Chapter II: Part 2

Fletcher’s task, meanwhile, was to see that the _Tangier_ reached her objective. The _Saratoga_, with VMF-221 embarked, was to launch the Marine fighters to fly into Wake while the seaplane tender was to moor offshore to begin the process of putting ashore reinforcements, ammunition, provisions, and equipment--including an important radar set. The _Tangier_ was then to embark approximately 650 civilians and all of the wounded men and return to Pearl Harbor. Kimmel and his staff had estimated that the process of unloading and debarkation would take at least two days; embarking all the people at Wake could be accomplished in less than one. Unfavorable weather, however, could lengthen the time considerably. At 1331 (at Pearl Harbor), on 15 December Kimmel informed the Chief of Naval Operations (Admiral Harold R. Stark) of the relief expedition he had just launched. He received Admiral Stark’s concurrence early the following morning.

Meanwhile, during the day on the 15th, Dan Godbold’s men observed the usual routine, starting the day at full alert and replacing the natural camouflage before reducing the alert status at 0700. His men completed the shelters near the guns during the day and began work on a shelter at the heightfinder position. They stopped work at 1700 to return to full alert. A half hour later, however, battery lookouts reported a plane lurking amongst the low clouds to the east, and Godbold reported the presence of the intruder to the island command post. At 1800, four flying boats came in at 1,000 feet and dropped bombs on what their crews thought was the “barracks area (Camp 1) on the northern part of the island.” They also strafed the area near Batteries D and B. The Japanese reported their bombing as having been “effective,” but it inflicted no material damage. One civilian workman was killed. From his vantage point, Marine Gunner McKinstry, in Battery E, thought all of the bombs landed in the ocean.

The next day, the 16th, 33 Nells raided Wake Island at 1340. The Marines, however, greeted the Japanese fliers with novel fire control methods. Kinney and Kliewer, aloft on patrol, spotted the incoming formations closing on the atoll at 18,000 feet, almost 10 minutes before they reached Wake’s airspace. The U.S. pilots radioed the enemy’s altitude to the gun batteries. The early warning permitted Lewis to enter the data into the M-4 director and pass the solution to Godbold. Battery D hurled 95 rounds skyward. Battery E’s first shots seemed to explode ahead of the formation, but Gunner McKinstry reported that the lead plane in one of the formations dropped, smoking, to the rear of the formation. He estimated that at least four other planes cleared the island trailing smoke. Godbold estimated that four planes had been damaged and one had crashed some distance from the island. Japanese accounts, however, provide no support for Godbold’s estimate, acknowledging neither losses nor damage to Japanese aircraft during the attack that day. Kliewer and Kinney each attacked the formations of planes, but with little effect, partly because only one of Kinney’s four machine guns functioned.

That day, as half of Wake’s submarine support--the _Tambor_--retired toward Oahu because of an irreparable leak in her forward torpedo room, Kinney returned to the task of keeping the planes ready to fight with field expedient repairs and borrowed gear. Kinney and his helpers fashioned gun cleaning rods from welding rods. The pervasive, intrusive coral sand threatened to cause severe mechanical damage to the planes. Kinney borrowed a compressor from PanAm (two previous compressors had been “strafed out of commission”) to try to keep the planes clean by blasting a mixture of air and kerosene to blow out the accumulations of grit.

National Archives Photo 80-G-266632

_Marines from the 4th Defense Battalion embark in_ Tangier _(AV-8) at Pearl Harbor, 15 December 1941, bound for Wake. Barely visible beyond the first Marine at the head of the gangway is a sobering reminder of the events of eight days before: the mainmast of the sunken_ Arizona _(BB-39). Tank farm spared by the Japanese on that day lies at right background._]

To help Kinney and Hamilton and their small but dedicated band of civilians, Aviation Machinist’s Mate Hesson, who had been wounded on the 14th, violated doctor’s orders and returned to duty. He resumed work on the planes, carrying on as effectively as ever in spite of his injures. Putnam later recalled Hesson’s service as being “the very foundation of the entire aerial defense of Wake Island.”

At Pearl Harbor, in the lengthening shadows of 15 December (16 December on Wake), the relief expedition made ready to sail. The _Tangier_, the oiler _Neches_ (AO-5) and four destroyers sailed at 1730 on the 15th (On Wake, 1400 on 16 December.). The _Saratoga_ and the remainder of the escort--delayed by the time it took to fuel the carrier--were to sail the following day. “The twilight sortie,” First Lieutenant Robert D. Heinl, Jr., as commander of Battery F, 3-Inch Antiaircraft Group, wrote of the _Tangier_’s sailing, “dramatized the adventure.” The ships steamed past somber reminders of 7 December--the beached battleship _Nevada_ and a Douglas SBD Dauntless from the _Enterprise_ that had been shot down by “friendly fire” off Fort Kamehameha. “The waters beyond sight of Oahu,” First Lieutenant Heinl noted, “seemed very lonely waters indeed.... Columbus’ men, sailing westward in hourly apprehension of toppling off the edge of a square earth, could not have felt the seas to be more inscrutable and less friendly.”

Wake’s dogged defense caused Vice Admiral Shigeyoshi Inoue, Commander, _South Seas Force_ (_Fourth Fleet_), to seek help. Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, the Commander in Chief of the _Combined Fleet_, responded by assigning a force under the command of Rear Admiral Hiroaki Abe, Commander, _8th Cruiser Division_, consisting of carriers _Hiryu_ and _Soryu_ and escorting ships, to reinforce Inoue. At 1630 on 16 December, the two carriers (with 118 aircraft), screened by the heavy cruisers _Tone_ and _Chikuma_ and the destroyers _Tanikaze_ and _Urakaze_, detached from their _Pearl Harbor Striking Force_, and headed toward Wake.

As Abe’s ships steamed toward Wake, U.S. Navy radio intelligence operators intercepted Japanese radio transmissions. The messages, when decoded, caused the intelligence analysts to suspect that connections existed among the Japanese _Fourth Fleet_ operations “CruDiv 8” (the _Tone_ and the _Chikuma_), “Cardiv 2” (the _Soryu_ and the _Hiryu_), and “Airon 24” (_24th Flotilla_). Aerial reconnaissance flights from the Marshalls followed.

The following afternoon Rear Admiral Bloch sent a message that must have seemed a trifle unrealistic to Cunningham, who was primarily concerned with defending the atoll and keeping his men alive. The message stated that it was “highly desirable” that the dredging of the channel across Wilkes continue and inquired about the feasibility “under present conditions” of finishing the work with equipment at hand. It requested an estimated date of completion.

On 17 December, something occurred at Pearl Harbor which harbored ill portents for the Wake Island relief operation. Admiral Kimmel was relieved of command. In a perfunctory ceremony at the Submarine Base, Kimmel relinquished command to Vice Admiral William S. Pye, who would serve as the acting commander until Admiral Chester W. Nimitz arrived to assume command. Pye inherited an operation about which he would soon harbor many reservations. The next day (18 December), CinCPac’s radio intelligence men noted again that ... “Cardiv and Crudiv 8 continued to be associated with the Fourth Fleet in communications.”

While the acting CinCPac digested that latest disquieting intelligence and sent it along to Fletcher and Brown, Wake’s defenders endured another air raid. On the 19th, 27 Nells came in from the northwest at 1135, and dropped bombs on the remainder of the PanAm facility on Peale and on Camp 1 on Wake. Battery D fired 70 rounds at the attacking planes, and both Godbold and Marine Gunner McKinstry reported seeing one plane leaving the sky over the atoll, trailing a plume of smoke behind it. An aviator, they said, drifted down in his parachute some distance from land. Wake’s gunners had actually done far better than they had thought. Of 27 planes engaged, 12 had been hit by antiaircraft fire.

Cunningham responded to Bloch’s message of the previous day that up to that point he had been concerned only with defending the island and preserving lives. He addressed the completion of the channel by listing the difficulties associated with the task. He pointed out that blackout conditions militated working at night, and that Japanese air raids, which came without warning, reduced the amount of work which could be accomplished during the day. But working during the day was hazardous, he said, because noisy equipment prevented workmen from being alerted to the incoming planes in time for them to take cover. Furthermore, the amount of contractor’s equipment was being continually reduced by the bombings. Additionally, continuing the projects would require the immediate replenishment of diesel oil and dynamite. With morale of the civilian workmen generally low, Cunningham could not predict, under the prevailing conditions, when the construction projects would be completed. He further declared that “relief from raids would improve [the] outlook.” After recording, in a second message the damage inflicted by the Japanese on the base on Peale, the atoll commander noted that, since the outbreak of war, the efforts involved in assisting in the defense and salvage operations had fully occupied all of the contractors’ men. Cunningham continued by noting the additional numbers of dead or missing civilians since his earlier dispatch on the subject, and described the civilians’ morale as “extremely low.” He reiterated his request to consider evacuating the civilians, since the large number of them who were not contributing to the defensive efforts required sustenance, which drew on the stores required by those actively engaged in the defensive operations.

In the meantime, Vice Admiral Pye had passed on to Brown information pointing toward Japan’s establishment of an air base in the Gilberts and the existence of a submarine force at Jaluit. Most disturbing of all was the news that CinCPac’s intelligence people knew of “no definite location of [the] force which attacked Oahu.” For all anyone knew, the Japanese carriers whose planes had bombed Pearl Harbor could be lurking almost anywhere!

Considering the newly established enemy air bases that he would have to pass en route to Jaluit, Brown could see that Japanese air searches from those places might spot Task Force 11 before it reached its objective. He began fueling his ships on the 18th--the same day that Rear Admiral William F. Halsey, Jr.’s Task Force 8 sailed from Pearl to support Task Forces 11 and 14--and informed the task force of its objective. Brown completed the fueling operations on the 19th. That done, he detached his oiler, the _Neosho_ (AO-23), to stand out of danger, and contemplated what lay ahead.

Fletcher’s Task Force 14, meanwhile, pressed westward. At noon on the 19th, the _Saratoga_ and her consorts were 1,020 miles east of Wake. D-Day had been set for the 24th.

[Sidebar (page 17)]

Admiral Frank Jack Fletcher, the commander of Task Force 14, is the subject of much historical “Monday morning quarterbacking.” All these commentators have the benefit of something neither Pye, the overall commander, nor Fletcher, on the scene, had--hindsight. As “Soc” McMorris (Admiral Kimmel’s war plans officer) put it, “We had no more idea’n a billygoat,” about what Japanese forces lay off Wake. The welter of message traffic linking CruDivs, CarDivs, and BatDivs with land-based air painted a formidable picture of what might be encountered by a _single_ U.S. Navy carrier task force. While the Navy pilots may have been well trained, _Saratoga_’s embarked fighter squadron was understrength, having only 13 operational Wildcats.

Nor could the Marines of VMF-221 (bound for Wake) have been counted on as an effective adjunct to _Saratoga_’s squadron, since they had not operated from a carrier. An even more compelling argument for how VMF-221 would have performed in the emergency is that Major General Ross Rowell, commanding the 2d Marine Aircraft Wing, knowing of 221’s manpower and operational deficiencies, lamented having to send “[Major Verne] McCaul’s half-baked outfit into that mess.” Rowell knew that maintaining the temperamental Brewster F2A-3 Buffalo fighters at a stateside air base with all the conveniences had been a chore--let alone having to operate the F2A-3 at an advance base (especially one that had been so badly cut-up as Wake had been) or at sea on a carrier (where the F2A’s performance--especially with landing gear failures--was nearly infamous).

And, too, the three carriers committed to the relief expedition were all there were in the Pacific. There were no reserves. Even though the Japanese harbored no ideas of conquest of Hawaii at that time--they were through with Oahu for the time being--Pye and his advisors had no way of knowing that. What intelligence existed pointed toward a potential disaster for an island where the issue was, as Cunningham correctly perceived, very much in doubt!

When asked in 1970 if the relief expedition’s arrival would have made any difference in the outcome at Wake, retired Brigadier General Devereux answered: “I rather doubt that that particular task force, with its size and composition, could have been very effective.... I think it was wise ... to pull back.” ]

‘_All Hands Have Behaved Splendidly_’

Shortly before 1600 on 20 December, scrutinized by Wake Island’s only serviceable F4F, a Consolidated PBY Catalina flying boat bearing mail landed in the lagoon. It arrived in the midst of a rain squall, but the defenders welcomed the precipitation because it worsened the flying weather and inhibited the Japanese bombing efforts. Commander Keene’s sailors moored the Catalina and fueled it for the next morning’s flight.

As “Barney” Barninger observed, the flying boat’s arrival “set the island on end with scuttlebutt.” Most men surmised that the civilians would be evacuated. The scuttlebutt was partially correct. From the secret orders carried on board the PBY, Cunningham learned that he was to prepare all but 350 civilians (those to be selected “by specific trades to continue the more important of the projects,” one of which was the completion of the ship channel between Wake and Wilkes) for evacuation. He was also notified that fire control, radar, and other equipment was being sent, along with reinforcements of both men and machinery.

That day, Commander Cunningham recounted the events which had occurred to date in a report to Rear Admiral Bloch. Although many air raids had occurred, he reported, that most had resulted in few casualties and little damage to installations. He attributed Wake’s escape from more serious damage to the effectiveness of the Marines’ antiaircraft fire--fire delivered despite the lack of fire control equipment. A former fighter pilot, he also lavished unstinting praise on VMF-211’s aviators, who had “never failed to push home attacks against heavy fire.” That none of the planes had been shot down, he marvelled, “is a miracle.”

The representative of the Bureau of the Budget, Herman P. Hevenor, who had arrived on Wake via the _Clipper_ on 7 December to check the progress of construction on the atoll and review the expenditures, wrote to the Bureau telling them of the siege to that point and praising those who led the defense. “The Commanding Officer [Cunningham] and his staff, including the Marine Officers, have done a big job and an efficient one. Their stand against the Japs has been marvelous and they deserve everything our Government can give them....”

Major Putnam dashed off a report of VMF-211’s operations to Lieutenant Colonel Claude A. Larkin, commanding officer of Marine Aircraft Group (MAG) 21. After recounting the losses of both planes and men suffered by his squadron, and the damage he felt his men had inflicted upon the enemy, Putnam wrote that a large share of the squadron’s records had been destroyed on the first day, and since then, “parts and assemblies have been traded back and forth so that no airplane can be identified. Engines have been traded from plane to plane, have been junked, stripped, rebuilt, and all but created.” Practically all of 211’s gear had been destroyed. Quartermaster property lay scattered about, wholly unaccounted for.

Nevertheless, he praised his men. “All hands have behaved splendidly and held up in a manner of which the Marine Corps may well tell.” He singled out the “indefatigable labor, the ingenuity, skill, and technical knowledge of Lieutenant Kinney and Technical Sergeant Hamilton,” since “it is solely due to their efforts that the squadron is still operating.”[A]

[A] In a marginal note to this report by Putnam upon his return
from a POW camp in Japan, in October 1945, he added AMM1c
Hesson’s name to those of Kinney and Hamilton.

The next morning the PBY crew and their only passenger, Major Walter L. J. Bayler, who had completed his temporary duty at Wake, clambered on board the Catalina. The PBY taxied into the lagoon and took off for Midway.

As the PBY departed, a Japanese task force steamed toward Wake Island, intent upon attacking on the 22d. The arrival and departure of that PBY, however, influenced the Japanese plans. On 20 December, Rear Admiral Abe received a report (based upon the radio messages the PBY sent as it approached Wake) that planes from Patrol Squadron 23 had advanced to Wake from Midway the previous day. Consequently, the commander of the _South Seas Force_, hoping to catch and destroy those planes, pressed Abe to advance the attack one day. The _Wake Island Reinforcement Force_ increased its speed to 30 knots.

In the meantime, on the morning of 21 December, Rear Admiral Kajioka set out from the Marshalls for a second attempt at Wake. The attacking naval forces included the same ships that had participated in the first attack, the destroyers _Asanagi_ and _Yunagi_ (which replaced the _Hayate_ and the _Kisaragi_, which had been sunk during the initial attack), and some reinforcements, four heavy cruisers (_Kako_, _Aoba_, _Furutaka_ and _Kinugasa_) that had recently taken part in the occupation of Guam, and the seaplane carrier _Kiyokawa Maru_. Instead of 225 troops in each converted destroyer, 250 (some of whom had taken part in the seizure of Guam) had been embarked. Landing exercises had been conducted at Kwajalein.

At 0700 on the 21st, beneath cloudy skies, _Hiryu_ and _Soryu_ turned into the northeasterly wind and began launching planes. The aircraft arrived over Wake at about 0900 to find a 200-meter ceiling and, seeing no U.S. patrol planes, circled at 50 to 200 meters and began attacking shore installations. Antiaircraft fire hardly seemed to hinder them as they “worked things over a bit” and gave embattled defenders their first taste of dive-bombing. _Soryu_’s and _Hiryu_’s aviators, having experienced the flak over Pearl Harbor, reported “very slight” resistance from antiaircraft fire. “The enemy,” Rear Admiral Abe reflected, “seemed to lose their fighting spirits.”

The blow had fallen without warning. It caught Second Lieutenant Kliewer eating breakfast with the crews of the two .50-caliber machine guns at the west end of the field. He admired them for the way in which they stuck to their guns amidst the bombing and strafing, continuing to fire “when other guns on the island [had been] silenced.”

The raid had caught Major Putnam returning from Camp 2 in a truck. He attempted to reach the only flyable F4F, but strafing Zeroes twice forced him away. Only after the Mitsubishis and Aichis left the vicinity, at about 1020, was he able to take off and attempt to follow them to their ships. Although he was not successful in that endeavor, his attempt typified the “highest order of courage and resolution” that he displayed throughout the siege. As Putnam searched for the Japanese fleet, Cunningham radioed word of the morning’s raid to CinCPac and the Commandant of the 14th Naval District.

Later that day, 33 Nells paid Wake a visit. The antiaircraft fire, however, apparently forced them to bomb from a higher altitude than before (18,000 feet _vice_ 13,000). Although Dan Godbold claimed to have seen one plane dropping from the skies over Wake, trailing smoke, all G3M2s returned safely to Roi. Their bombs, however, had fallen thickly about the battery, scoring a bullseye on the director emplacement, killing Platoon Sergeant Johnalson E. Wright, wounding three other men, and knocking unconscious the range officer, Second Lieutenant Robert W. Greeley. The M-4 director, although destroyed by the bomb, deflected the full force of the explosion from Greeley and saved his life.

Wright, the firing battery officer, had been known for his cheerfulness and boundless vitality. Although during previous raids he had been told to take cover, he had remained at his post, calmly giving orders and disregarding the bombs. His seemingly tireless efforts to improve the efficiency of the battery earned him a Bronze Star posthumously.

At Peacock Point, a bomb had fallen near the shelter belonging to Barninger’s no. 2 gun crew, causing the entrance to be blocked and blowing the sides in. Fortunately, no one was hurt. “The bomb hitting the shelter,” Barninger wrote later, “was the only one close to the guns.” He and his men spent the rest of the day repairing the damaged shelter. Most of the Marines, though, began feeling that foxholes were better. “Although we didn’t lose a man,” Barninger commented, “it was a close thing and with the heavy caliber bombs the shelter is too light. For that reason we are all back in the foxholes.”

On the previous day, Major Devereux had ordered Marine Gunner McKinstry to keep the two guns of Battery F firing to divert the enemy’s attention from the only complete battery on the island, Battery E. On the 22d, McKinstry’s gunners put on a fine performance, despite having neither director nor heightfinder to help them. Firing by the expedient of “lead ’em a mile,” the two guns of Battery F kept the enemy guessing as to which group of guns was the greater threat.

Marine Corps Historical Collection

_2dLt Carl R. Davidson (seen_ circa _September 1941), VMF-211’s assistant gunnery officer, was awarded a Navy Cross posthumously for courageously and unhesitatingly attacking an overwhelming number of Kates on 21 December._]

Nevertheless, all of the planes from _Hiryu_ and _Soryu_ returned undamaged to their decks. Then, Abe’s force steamed south to be in a position 200 miles from Wake the next day to provide an antisubmarine screen for Kajioka’s ships.

At Pearl Harbor, Vice Admiral Pye read with concern Cunningham’s dispatch reporting the raid by carrier planes. The Japanese had inserted a dangerous new factor into the equation. Pye deemed it essential “to insure [the] defense of the [Hawaiian] islands.” With the Army’s Hawaiian defense in shambles, and the battleship strength significantly reduced by the Japanese attack on 7 December, he believed that the Pacific Fleet’s three carriers constituted the best protection for Oahu. After he considered the evidence of increased Japanese air activity in the Marshalls, with one, or perhaps two, carrier groups in that vicinity, as well as “evidence of extensive offshore lookout and patrol,” he decided that a surprise raid on Jaluit could not be conducted successfully. Thus, Pye reluctantly abandoned the proposed carrier raid on the Marshalls.

While he allowed the efforts to relieve Wake to continue, Pye warned Fletcher not to get within 200 miles of the atoll, and directed Brown to move north with Task Force 11 to support Task Force 14. That decided, on the afternoon of 20 December, he radioed his decision to the Navy Department.

With efforts to relieve Wake progressing, CinCPac radioed Cunningham on the morning of the 22d (21st at Pearl Harbor) and asked him to report the condition of the aircraft runways. He also requested to be informed immediately of any significant developments.

At 0800 on 22 December, 39 planes from the _Soryu_ and the _Hiryu_ ascended and headed into the gray skies above the beleaguered atoll. Their pilots expected to meet American fighters.

Second Lieutenant Davidson took off from Wake at 1000, cranked up his landing gear, and set out on the regular midday patrol. Engine trouble prevented Captain Freuler from getting aloft until 1030.

Shortly before noon, Davidson, patrolling to the north of Wake, radioed Freuler, then flying to the south of the atoll, informing him of approaching enemy aircraft. In spite of the odds, both men gave battle.

Marine Corps Historical Collection

_Capt Herbert C. Freuler (seen_ circa _September 1941), was VMF-211’s gunnery and ordnance officer. Freuler was commissioned a second lieutenant in July 1931. He was awarded a Navy Cross and a Bronze Star for heroism at Wake._]

Freuler engaged six carrier attack planes and dropped one, trailing smoke, out of formation on his first pass. As the group of Nakajimas broke up, he made an opposite approach and fired, flaming one Kate, which exploded in an expanding ball of fire about 50 feet beneath him. As his controls responded sluggishly, and his badly scorched F4F’s manifold pressure dropped, he glanced back toward Wake and saw Davidson engaging several enemy planes. An instant later, a _Hiryu_ Zero got on Freuler’s tail and opened fire. Bullets penetrated Freuler’s fuselage, both sides of his vacuum tank, the bulkhead, seat, and parachute. After his plane was hit, Freuler threw his F4F into a steep dive--the Japanese pilot did not follow him--nursed it home, and landed with the canopy stuck in the closed position. Ground crews extricated him and took him to the hospital.

Carl Davidson, unfortunately, did not return. The pilot who had knocked Freuler out of the fight went to the rescue of his shipmates and shot down Davidson. Rear Admiral Abe later paid homage to the two Marine pilots who had challenged his carrier planes, lauding them as having resisted fiercely and bravely.

The _Soryu_ lost two planes and their three-man crews. Damage suffered in the aerial action compelled a third to ditch, but one of the screening ships recovered its crew.

That afternoon, at 1320, Cunningham radioed Pye that a “combined land- and carrier-based plane attack” had occurred and that his fighters had engaged the attackers. He reported Davidson’s loss and the wounding of Freuler, but noted that they had shot down “several” planes. The atoll had suffered “no further damage.” As “Barney” Barninger later recounted: “Dive bombers again--the carriers must still be in the vicinity.... Things are getting tense. Rumor continues to fly about relief, but the dive bombers [are] also present. Things go on in the same manner as before. All that can be done is being done, but there is so little to do [it] with.”

Heavy seas bedevilled Frank Jack Fletcher’s Task Force 14 as it pressed westward. Having been ordered to fuel to capacity before fighting, Fletcher began fueling his ships from _Neches_ in the turbulent seas. Rolling swells and gusty winds slowed that process considerably and permitted the fueling of only four of his destroyers. If Fletcher was expected to fight, his ships would require more fuel to be able to maneuver at high speed, if necessary. He resolved to top off the rest the following day (23 December).

National Archives Photo 80-G-413519
]

Meanwhile, at around 1900 on 21 December (1530, 22 December Wake), the PBY that had borne Major Bayler (the “last man off Wake Island”) from Wake to Midway arrived at Pearl Harbor. The plane’s commander dictated a report, which was transcribed by a CinCPac stenographer shortly after the pilot’s arrival, regarding Wake’s desperate plight. Pye, upon reading the report, was deeply moved. Members of Pye’s staff, many of whom had also faithfully served on Admiral Kimmel’s staff, pleaded with Pye’s Chief of Staff, Rear Admiral Milo F. Draemel, on behalf of the Wake relief efforts. Referring to the PBY commander’s report, Pye declared later, “the situation at Wake seemed to warrant taking a greater chance to effect its reinforcement even at the sacrifice of the _Tangier_ and possible damage to some major ships of Task Force 14.” The admiral therefore removed the restrictions on Task Force 14’s operations. The _Tangier_ was to be detached with two destroyers to run in to Wake to begin the evacuation of the civilians and to disembark the Marines.

Marine Corps Historical Collection

_The sound of the heavy surf surging ashore continuously in the defenders’ ears as it pounded the reef that ringed the atoll, militated against their hearing approaching enemy planes--a decided disadvantage in view of Wake’s lack of radar._]

Pye also rescinded the restrictions on the operating areas of Task Forces 8 and 11, allowing them to support Cunningham’s command more effectively. Those on the staff who had pleaded for the relief force to continue toward Wake felt vindicated by Pye’s decision that night.

Meanwhile, at Wake, with Commander Cunningham’s prior approval, Paul Putnam, with no flyable planes left, reported his men to Major Devereux for service as infantrymen. Devereux ordered Putnam to keep his squadron where it was and await further orders.

‘_This Is As Far As We Go_’

Shortly after midnight, First Lieutenant Barninger noted flashing lights “way off the windy side of the island.” Alerted to the odd display on the horizon in the darkness, Barninger telephoned Major Devereux, who replied that he also had seen it. Devereux directed Barninger to keep a watch out and cautioned the Peacock Point strongpoint commander to be mindful that the lee shore posed the most possibilities for danger. Lookouts continued to note irregular flashes of light in the black, gusty, rainy predawn of 23 December 1941. It may have been the _Tenryu_, the _Tatsuta_, and the _Yubari_ firing blindly at what their spotters thought was Wake Island but which was, instead, only empty ocean.

At 0145, however, a report came into the detachment commander’s command post, telling of an enemy landing in progress at Toki Point, at the tip of Peale. Devereux alerted the battalion. Kessler, in the meantime, dispatched a patrol up the lagoon beach toward the PanAm facility, which met a patrol from Battery D. Neither had anything to report. On Wilkes, Captain Platt directed Battery L to move the men of two 5-inch gun sections (equivalent to two rifle squads) to the shore of the lagoon, west of the area of the new channel being dredged across the island. The rest of the men of the battery--fire controlmen and headquarters men under McAlister, who had established his command post near the searchlight section of the battery--moved into positions they had readied along the south shore of Wilkes, between McKinstry’s Battery F and the new channel.

Kessler, whom Devereux had requested to confirm or deny the accuracy of the information regarding the landing, reported that there was no landing in progress, but that he had seen the lights offshore. Cunningham, at 0145, radioed the Commandant, 14th Naval District, reporting “gunfire between ships to northeast of island.”

Wake thus alerted, Second Lieutenant Arthur A. Poindexter, at Camp 1 with the mobile reserve (predominantly supply and administration Marines and 15 sailors under Boatswain’s Mate First Class James E. Barnes), believed Peale to be threatened. He exercised initiative and entrucked eight Marines and with four .30-caliber machine guns. Reporting his intention to the detachment commander, Poindexter and that portion of his mobile reserve sped past the airfield toward Peale. It was nearing Devereux’s command post when he ordered it intercepted. The major retained Poindexter’s little force where it was, pending clarification of the situation.

The bad weather that prevented the Marines from seeing their foes likewise hindered the Japanese. Shortly before 0200, _Special Naval Landing Force_ troops clambered down into the medium landing craft designated to land on Wilkes and Wake. Four landing craft were launched some 3,000 to 4,000 meters offshore, but in the squalls and long swells they experienced difficulty keeping up with _Patrol Boat No. 32_ and _Patrol Boat No. 33_ as they churned on a northeasterly course, headed for the beach. The landing craft designated to follow _No. 32_ lost sight of her in the murky, gusty darkness.

At about 0230, Marines on Peacock Point detected the two patrol boats, which appeared to them only as dark shapes as they made for the reef by the airstrip. Then, the two ships ground gently ashore on the coral. The Japanese naval infantrymen slipped over the side into the surf, struggled ashore, and sprinted across the coral for cover.

On Wilkes, Gunner McKinstry called to Captain Platt and informed him that he thought he heard the sound of engines over the boom of the surf, and at 0235 one of his .50-caliber guns (gun no. 10) opened fire in the darkness. Ten minutes later, McKinstry, having sought permission to use illumination, caused a searchlight to be turned on. Although the light was shut off as suddenly as it had been turned on, its momentary beam revealed a landing boat aground on Wilkes’ rocky shore and, beyond that, two destroyers, beached on Wake.

Poindexter File, Reference Section

_1stLt Arthur A. Poindexter (seen here in a post-war photograph), commander of the mobile reserve on Wake, provided such evidence of “exemplary conduct and ability to lead troops ... with utter disregard for his own safety” that he was ultimately awarded the Bronze Star._]

McAlister ordered Platoon Sergeant Henry A. Bedell to detail two men to hurl grenades into the enemy craft. The veteran non-commissioned officer, accompanied only by Private First Class William F. Buehler, gamely tackled the task, but Japanese gunfire killed Bedell and wounded Buehler before either had been able to work their way close enough to lob grenades into the boats.

McKinstry’s men, meanwhile, manned the 3-inchers of Battery F, but the guns could not be depressed enough to fire onto the beach. The Marines held their position until the men from the _Takano Unit_ of the _Special Naval Landing Force_ approached closely enough to begin lobbing grenades. Marines and Japanese grappled in the darkness, hand-to-hand, before McKinstry’s men, after removing the firing locks from the guns, pulled back to take up infantry positions. Their concentrated fires kept most of the Japanese at bay near the 3-inch gun position.

Other _Special Naval Landing Force_ troops, however, probed westward, toward the 5-inch guns that had so humbled Kajioka’s force on the 11th. They ran into heavy fire from gun no. 9, a well-camouflaged .50-caliber Browning, handled skillfully by 20-year old Private First Class Sanford K. Ray and situated some 75 yards west of where the _Takano Unit_ had first swarmed ashore. Ray’s fire prevented the enemy from advancing closer than 40 or 50 yards from his sand-bagged position, and his proximity to the beach allowed him not only to harass the enemy but also to report enemy movements. Although Japanese troops had severed most wire communication lines, Platt remained in touch with developments at the shoreline by reports from Ray.

Reports from observers along the beach soon began to deluge Devereux’s command post, where he and his executive officer, Major Potter, attempted to keep abreast of events. Gunner Hamas relayed the information to Cunningham, at his command post. On the basis of those reports, the island commander, at 0250, radioed the Commandant of the 14th Naval District: “Island under gunfire. Enemy apparently landing.”

At that point, Devereux directed Poindexter to move the mobile reserve into the area between Camp 1 and the west end of the airfield. Since the eight Marines had remained in the truck with the four machine guns, only 15 minutes elapsed before they set up both gun sections in a position commanding the road that ran along the south shore and also covering a critical section of beach. Within moments, Poindexter’s Brownings chattered and spat into the dim shape of the grounded _Patrol Boat No. 32_, most of the bullets striking the after part of the ship. _Special Naval Landing Force_ troops who disclosed their positions by igniting flares soon came under fire. At Camp 1, just up the coast, men from Battery I and the sailors who had been serving as lookouts manned the four .30-caliber machine guns set up there. From Poindexter’s vantage point, the enemy troops appeared confused and disoriented, shouting and discharging a number of flares, perhaps for “control and coordination.”

Having received a report of Japanese destroyers standing toward Wake’s south shore (and well inside the range of the 5-inch batteries that had so vexed the enemy on 11 December), Second Lieutenant Robert M. Hanna, who commanded the machine guns emplaced at the airstrip, clearly perceived the threat. Accompanied by Corporal Ralph J. Holewinski and three civilians, Paul Gay, Eric Lehtola, and Bob Bryan, Hanna set off at a dead run for the 3-inch gun that had been emplaced on the landward side of the beach road, on a slight rise between the beach road and the oiled tie-down area at the airstrip. Up to that point, Major Putnam’s grounded airmen, their ground support unit, and the volunteer civilians, had been awaiting further orders. As Hanna and his scratch 3-inch crew sprinted to the then-unmanned gun, Devereux ordered Putnam to support the lieutenant.

Putnam assigned Second Lieutenant Kliewer to a post on the west end of the airfield, along with Staff Sergeant John F. Blandy, Sergeant Robert E. Bourquin, Jr., and Corporal Carroll E. Trego. They were to set off the mines on the field if the enemy attempted to use it. Two .50-caliber guns situated just north of the airstrip covered Kliewer’s position. At the eastern end of the strip lay the guns manned by Corporal Winford J. McAnally, along with six Marines and three civilians and supported by a small group of riflemen. The gunners enjoyed a perfect, unobstructed field of fire--the airstrip itself.

About 0300, just at a time when events began to develop with startling rapidity as the Japanese pushed ashore on Wilkes and Wake, Major Devereux lost touch with Camp 1, Putnam’s platoon, Hanna’s command post near the airstrip, and Barninger’s Battery A. Advancing Japanese troops probably had found the communication lines--the exigencies of war had prevented them from being buried--and cut them. Devereux’s last situation reports from those units painted a bleak picture. If Cunningham received less-than-encouraging reports from the defense battalion commander, he received equally grim news from CinCPac when, at 0319 Wake time, Pearl Harbor radioed to Wake that the _Triton_ and _Tambor_ were returning to Hawaiian waters. “No friendly vessels should be in your vicinity today,” the message stated, “Keep me informed.”

Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 307142
]

Hanna and his men, meanwhile, reached the 3-inch gun and set to work. Anxious hands fumbled in the darkness for ammunition while Hanna--since the gun lacked sights--peered down the bore to draw a bead on the beached and stationary _Patrol Boat No. 33_ that lay less than 500 yards away. The first round tore into the ship’s bridge, seriously wounding both the captain and navigator, killing two seamen, and wounding five. Hanna’s gun hurled 14 more rounds on target. Some of his projectiles evidently touched off a magazine, and the beached warship began to burn. The illumination provided by the burning ship revealed her sistership, which Hanna and his hard-working gunners bombarded, as well. A short time later three _Special Naval Landing Force_ sailors attacked Hanna’s exposed position. In the ensuing fight, Hanna cooly shot and killed all three enemy sailors with his pistol and resumed the operation of his 3-incher.

SITUATION ON WAKE ISLAND

0400, 23 DECEMBER 1941]

Reinforcing Hanna’s cannoneers became the next order of business. Devereux felt compelled to keep Peale’s Battery B intact to deal with surface threats, and Battery E (which, by that point, had a full complement of guns and crews along with the only heightfinder and director) to deal with enemy planes. That left Godbold’s Battery D, which by that point possessed only two operational guns and no fire-control gear. Devereux directed Godbold to send one section (nine men) to the battalion command post to reinforce Hanna’s crew. Under Corporal Leon A. Graves, the squad clambered on board a contractor’s truck and reached the command post about 0315. They were to proceed along the road that paralleled the shoreline to a junction some 600 yards south of the airfield, where they were to leave the truck and proceed through the brush to Hanna’s position. Quickly, they set out into the night.

The flames from the wrecked _Patrol Boat No. 33_ disclosed Japanese troops advancing past the west end of the airstrip into the thick undergrowth in front of the mobile reserve’s positions. Poindexter, after ordering one machine gun section to keep up a fire into the brush to interdict that movement and protect his own flank, heard machine gun fire from Camp 1, behind him. Wanting to see for himself if more Japanese landing craft were coming ashore to his rear, the lieutenant, accompanied by his runner, left the front in charge of Sergeant “QT” Wade, and hurried back to the camp.

There, unable to see at what his neophyte sailor-gunners were expending their ammunition, Poindexter asked each to point out his target. Two could not--they’d opened fire only because the other two had done so--but a third pointed to the dim outline of what appeared to be a “large landing barge on the order of a self-propelled artillery lighter.” When another craft of the same type seemed to materialize out of the murk, Poindexter ordered firing resumed at what proved to be two large landing craft that were attempting to ground themselves 1,200 yards east of the entrance to Wilkes Channel.

The enemy coxswains, however, appeared to be having difficulty coaxing the unwieldy landing craft onto the beach, backing off and trying again and again to land the _Special Naval Landing Force_ men crouched behind the gunwales, which seemed to be deflecting the .30-caliber bullets peppering them. Seizing the moment, Poindexter called for volunteers to pick their way down the rocky beach to the water’s edge, there to lob grenades into the boats. Poindexter organized two teams--Mess Sergeant Gerald Carr and a civilian, Raymond R. “Cap” Rutledge (who had served in the Army in France in World War I), in one, Poindexter and Boatswain’s Mate First Class Barnes in the other. The grenadiers dashed to the water’s edge while the machine guns momentarily held their fire. Barnes, taking cover behind coral heads, remained hidden until the barges ground ashore again. Then, exposing himself to enemy fire, he hurled several grenades toward the Japanese craft, and managed to land at least one inside, killing or wounding many of the troops on board.

The valiant efforts of Poindexter and his men, however, stopped the Japanese just momentarily, for soon they began swarming ashore and moving inland. Shortly before the wire communications to Devereux’s command post failed, Poindexter reported the result of his foray.

Having seen flares streaking skyward in the murk, Captain Godbold on Peale, meanwhile, sent out two patrols, one to move westward toward the naval air base, and the other to go eastward along the lagoon’s shore. Neither patrol encountered any enemy troops. A half-hour later, Godbold established an outpost at the bridge connecting Peale and Wake.

JAPANESE LANDING ON WILKES

0300, 23 DECEMBER, 1941]

Meanwhile, after word of the enemy landing reached Pearl Harbor, Vice Admiral Pye convened a meeting of his staff. By 0700 (22 December, Hawaiian time), having received further word of developments at Wake, Pye estimated that a relief of the island looked impossible, given the prevailing situation, and directed that the _Tangier_ should be diverted toward the east. With the relief mission abandoned, should his forces attack the enemy forces in the vicinity of Wake? Or should American forces be withdrawn to the east? He feared that the timing of the Japanese carrier strikes and the landing then in progress indicated that the enemy had “estimated closely the time at which our relief expedition might arrive and may, if the general location of our carrier groups is estimated, be waiting in force.” American forces could inflict extensive damage upon Japanese, Pye believed, if the enemy did not know of the presence of the U.S. carrier task forces. They had not yet seen action, though, and no one could overestimate the danger of having ships damaged 2,000 miles from the nearest repair facilities--“a damaged ship is a lost ship,” Brown had commented in Task Force 11’s war diary. Damage to the carriers could leave the Hawaiian Islands open to a major enemy thrust. “We cannot,” Pye declared, “afford such losses at present.”

Two courses of action existed--to direct Task Force 14 to attack Japanese forces in the vicinity of Wake, with Task Forces 8 and 11 covering Task Force 14’s retirement, or to retire all forces without any attempt to attack the enemy. These choices weighed heavily on Pye’s mind. If American forces hit the Japanese ships at Wake and suffered the loss of a carrier air group in the process, Pye deemed the “offensive spirit” shown by the Navy as perhaps worth the sacrifice.

However, in the midst of his deliberations, shortly after 0736, Pye received a message from the CNO which noted that recent developments had emphasized that Wake was a “liability” and authorized Pye to “evacuate Wake with appropriate demolition.” With Japanese forces on the island, though, Pye felt that capitulation was only a matter of time. “The real question at issue,” Pye thought, “is, shall we take the chance of the loss of a carrier group to attempt to attack the enemy forces in the vicinity of Wake?” Radio intelligence from the previous day linked “CruDiv 8 ... CarDiv 2” and, erroneously, “BatDiv 3” (consisting of two battleships) with the forces off of Wake. A pair of _Kongo_-class fast battleships, supported by carriers and heavy cruisers would easily have overmatched Fletcher’s Task Force 14.

In the meantime, Japanese cruisers--probably the _Yubari_, _Tenryu_, and _Tatsuta_--had begun shelling Wake, further discomfitting the defenders. Despite Lewis’ Battery E firing “prearranged 3-inch air burst concentrations” over the Japanese beachhead, the enemy continued to press steadily toward VMF-211’s position around Hanna’s 3-inch gun. Major Putnam, already wounded in the jaw, with blood from his wound staining the backs of the snapshots of his little daughters, which he carried in his pocket, formed his final line. “This,” he said, “is as far as we go.”

Marine Corps Historical Collection

_Raymond R. “Cap” Rutledge, one of the contractors on Wake, (seen here as a POW at Shanghai in January 1942), had served in the U.S. Army during World War I and threw hand grenades into Japanese landing barges off Wake in the pre-dawn fighting of 23 December._]

Putnam had placed Captain Elrod in command of one flank of VMF-211’s defensive line, which was situated in dense undergrowth. In the impenetrable darkness, the squadron executive officer and his men--most of whom were unarmed civilians who acted as weapons and ammunition carriers (until weapons became available)--conducted a spirited defense which repeated attacks by _Special Naval Landing Force_ troops could not dislodge. Each time he heard Japanese troops mounting a probe of 211’s position, Elrod interposed himself between the enemy and his own men and provided covering fire to enable his detachment to keep supplied with guns and ammunition. Shortly before dawn, a Japanese sailor who had hidden himself among the heaps of casualties surrounding Hanna’s gun shot and killed the gallant Captain Elrod.

Captain Tharin, in charge of a group of Marines on the left flank of VMF-211’s line, delivered covering fire for the unarmed ammunition carriers attached to his unit, which repulsed several assaults on his position. At one point, Japanese sailors penetrated the defenses in Tharin’s sector, but in the counterattack, which drove the enemy from the position, Tharin captured an enemy automatic weapon and used it “successfully and effectively against its former owners.” The indomitable Aviation Machinist’s Mate First Class Hesson armed himself with a Thompson sub-machine gun and some grenades and although wounded by rifle fire and grenade fragments, single-handedly drove back two concerted attacks--killing several Japanese and preventing them from overrunning 211’s flank.

Despite the heroic efforts of Putnam’s “platoon,” the Japanese managed to move into the roughly triangular area which was bounded by Peacock Point, on one side, the beach and the south side of the airstrip on the others. Corporal Graves’ squad from Battery D, meanwhile, detrucked somewhat north of their intended destination (200 yards south of the airstrip rather than 600), began walking toward VMF-211’s position, and quickly encountered a Japanese patrol. In the ensuing fire-fight, enemy machine gun and rifle fire killed one Marine and pinned down the remainder for a time, until Graves and his men managed to extricate themselves and retire northward toward the battalion command post. Graves’ encounter indicated that the Japanese had penetrated the U.S. defenses. Despite their extraordinary efforts, neither Kliewer and the .50-caliber guns at the airfield, nor the Hanna-VMF-211 group at the 3-inch gun near the shore, had been able to stop them.

At the same time, Batteries A and E began to receive mortar, small arms, and machine gun fire, prompting Barninger to deploy his range section, armed with two .30-caliber Brownings, and deployed as infantrymen, facing northwest “across the high ground” to the rear of the 5-inchers at Peacock Point. Lewis, whose 3-inch fire had silenced an automatic weapons position in the thick undergrowth southwest of Battery E, dispatched a patrol to try to relieve the pressure on his position. That group, under Sergeant Raymond Gragg, progressed only 50 yards beyond the perimeter before it came under heavy fire. The Japanese, however, moved no further because of the resistance put up by Gragg’s squad.

U. S. COUNTERATTACK ON WILKES

DAYBREAK, 23 DECEMBER 1941]

Amidst the chaos, Devereux groped for information about the progress of the battle. At some point, he received word from one of the few positions which had retained wire contact with his command post, Corporal McAnally’s machine gun section, which was located at the eastern end of the airstrip. McAnally reported that the Japanese were advancing up the shore road, apparently intent upon launching a thrust up the other prong of Wake. With one unit besetting Putnam’s at the airstrip, another Japanese unit skirted Putnam and Hanna and was headed into the triangular end of Peacock Point.

McAnally, establishing contact with the .50-caliber machine guns on the east shore of Wake, some 400 yards south, carried on a “resolute, well-coordinated defense” which stymied the enemy in the area. Perhaps more important, McAnally served as Devereux’s eyes and ears on that portion of the battlefield.

On Wilkes, Private First Class Ray’s defense of his position equalled that of McAnally’s. Captain Platt, having lost communication with his own posts and also with the defense battalion command post, set out on a personal reconnaissance mission at about 0430. He crawled through the thick underbrush and picked his way across the rocky beach, until, at about 0500, he came to a place east of gun no. 10 where he could see _Special Naval Landing Force_ men massed in and about Battery F’s guns. Soon thereafter, while clambering back to the gun, Platt met Sergeant Raymond L. Coulson and ordered him to gather two .30-caliber machine gun crews and their guns at Kuku Point (where they had been sent during the false alarm earlier that morning), along with the searchlight crew and everyone else he could find, and to return to gun no. 10.

Devereux, still isolated from his units and literally in the dark about the actions on Wilkes and those in the vicinity of Camp 1, attempted as best he could to keep the island commander informed. Cunningham, consequently, also had scant comprehension of the way the fighting was progressing in those areas. At 0500, about the time Captain Platt was reconnoitering the Japanese position on Wilkes, Cunningham radioed Commandant 14th Naval District, “Enemy on island. Issue in doubt.”

Poindexter, meanwhile, satisfied that Camp 1 was being defended as well as possible, proceeded to the mobile reserve gun positions on the west side of the airfield. Japanese machine gun and mortar fire, accompanied by “much shouting” and “numerous pyrotechnic flares,” began to fall around those positions, partially disabling one U.S. gun section. As the sky over Wake began to lighten with the dawn, Poindexter became concerned about the enemy fire that had begun to land near his men, and also that the enemy troops infiltrating the woods might outflank the mobile reserve. He ordered a retirement toward Camp 1. The sections alternated in covering each other throughout the movement, maintaining a steady volume of fire. Reaching Camp 1 after daylight, Poindexter established a north-south line astride the shore road, east of a prominent water tank.

While Poindexter deliberated the situation facing his force, Japanese movement along the east shore road increasingly pressed Corporal McAnally’s group. McAnally communicated his difficult situation to Devereux’s command post. Japanese hand grenades and small arms fire made life difficult for McAnally’s band, which nevertheless held its ground and broke up several assaults.

Around 0530, Devereux told Major Potter to form a final defensive line astride the north-south road, which was being threatened from the south by the advancing Japanese. Calling Godbold’s Battery D into the action soon thereafter, Devereux committed his last reserve troops into the action on the east side of Wake. Aware of Corporal McAnally’s predicament, Devereux ordered the corporal’s combat group to withdraw northward, toward the command post, to join Major Potter’s detachment.