AP photo
Guadalcanal was first World War II victory in Pacific 75 years ago
On August 7, 1942, U.S. Marines landed on Guadalcanal and two other islands in the Solomons, in America's first Pacific offensive of World War II.
The epic, six-month struggle for Guadalcanal would prove to be a turning point in the war against Japan. Allied forces from that point on would be on the attack as their enemy steadily retreated.
Capturing Guadalcanal would deny the Japanese a base to attack supply routes between the U.S. and Australia, forestall an invasion of Australia, and provide a jumping-off point for future American offensives.
By Brian Albrecht
American GIs with fixed bayonets check for Japanese soldiers during the battle for Guadalcanal, 75 years ago, during a six-month campaign that led to the first American victory in the Pacific during World War II.
AP/U.S. Marine Corps photo
Henderson Field focus of battles on land, sea and air
The Japanese had already started to build an airfield on Guadalcanal, which was easily captured by the Marines and named Henderson Field, for a Marine pilot killed at the Battle of Midway.
The airfield would become a fiercely contested focus of three major land battles, five large naval engagements and nearly continuous action in the air.
Here, the Marines got their first grim taste of jungle fighting and the fury of mass banzai charges until the leathernecks were relieved by Army troops.
Naval losses on both sides were so steep that one area near Guadalcanal came to be known as "Ironbottom Sound" for its number of sunken ships.
Throughout the campaign, Northeast Ohioans suffered and endured.
Aircraft line up on Henderson Field, a key target for the Japanese who attacked it by land, sea and air during the battle for Guadalcanal in 1942.
Medal of Honor heroism
The nation's highest award for military valor, the Medal of Honor, was awarded to 20 combatants during the battle of Guadalcanal.
Every branch of the service was represented in these citations, including 11 Marines, five members of the Navy, and three from the Army. Recipients ranged from front-line combatants and officers to aviators and a rear admiral.
The Coast Guard also got its first and only Medal of Honor recipient in Canadian-born Signalman 1st Class Douglas Munro.
On Sept. 27, Munro was in charge of a group of 24 boats, tasked with the rescue of nearly 500 Marines trapped by Japanese forces at Point Cruz.
As Munro led five of his boats to the beach, they came under heavy Japanese machine-gun fire. Munro positioned his boat to shield the others as they loaded Marines, laying down cover fire but drawing the brunt of the enemy's bullets.
As the evacuation neared completion, Munro was hit and killed. Two wounded crewmen carried on until the last boat was loaded.
Munro reportedly remained conscious long enough to utter his final words: "Did they get off"?
A U.S. Coast Guard painting depicts the heroism of Signalman 1st Class Douglas Munro, who was awarded the Coast Guard's first and only Medal of Honor during the battle for Guadalcanal.
Ohio Marine lost in mystery
An early, notable loss among Marines on Guadalcanal was Frank Goettge, of Canton, a legend on the gridiron at Barberton and Kent high schools, semi-pro football teams and the Ohio University freshman squad in 1916-1917 before enlisting in the Corps during World War I.
He rose through the ranks, serving in several posts abroad. He also continued playing football in the service, reportedly once rejecting a contract with the New York Giants so he could stay in the Marines.
Five days after the Guadalcanal invasion, Goettge, 46, by then a colonel serving as a 1st Marine Division intelligence officer, organized a 25-man patrol to capture a group of Japanese that supposedly (according to a prisoner) were ready to surrender.
The patrol walked into an ambush. Goettge and two men had gone ahead to scout for the enemy, and he was quickly killed by a shot to the head. The remainder of the patrol was pinned down by Japanese fire and slowly picked off, one by one.
Only three Marines from what came to be known as the "lost patrol" survived to tell the story that was fictionalized in the 1943 movie "Guadalcanal Diary."
Subsequent patrols in the area where the unit was annihilated reported seeing human remains, but Goettge's body was never found.
Marine Col. Frank Goettge is shown second from right during the battle of Guadalcanal. The Northeast Ohioan led an ill-fated mission that led to his death early in the campaign.
Photo courtesy of Jay Tischendorf
Growing up with the lost patrol
Jay Tischendorf grew up in Kent and remembered hearing about Goettge and the lost patrol from his stepfather, a Navy vet who served in the Pacific during World War II.
"We grew up knowing about Frank and visiting his gravesite in Standing Rock Cemetery (in Kent) on Memorial Day when we'd be out for the parade," said Tischendorf, who now lives in Texas.
"He was quite well known for his athletic prowess, a man of many sports, football probably the primary one," he added. "He probably would've been a pro football player if World War II hadn't intervened."
Tischendorf said that prior to the war, Goettge served as a military aide to President Warren G. Harding, and arranged for the Ohio University football team to meet Harding at the White House.
He speculated that Goettge's decision to scout ahead of the lost patrol, a move that resulted in his death, may have been a reflection of the man's hard-charging attitude that once resulted in him being described as a "thunderbolt" on the gridiron.
"It may have been a foolish maneuver, but at the time he did what he thought he had to do," Tishcendorf said.
A memorial to Marine Col. Frank Goettge, killed during the battle of Guadalcanal, can be found at the Standing Rock Cemetery in Kent.
Courtesy Joe Kvoriak
Fighting on an empty stomach
When Clevelander Joe Kvoriak and his fellow Marines waded ashore at Guadalcanal, they wore vintage World War I helmets, carried bolt-action Springfield rifles from that era and even ate surplus doughboy rations, mostly beans and hash.
But even that fare looked good when at one point, U.S. naval forces, suffering heavy losses, temporarily withdrew from the island, taking most of the Marines' supplies with them.
In a 2009 Plain Dealer story, Kvoriak, living in Bainbridge Township, recalled, "The only food we had was what we were able to grab from the Japanese — canned snails, hardtack, moldy oatmeal and some sake.
"Not enough sake."
Joe Kvoriak is shown as a young Marine in a World War I-vintage helmet.
Plain Dealer file photo
Bombs, bullets and disease
Kvoriak was an engineer and demolition specialist assigned to a unit that completed Henderson Field and maintained it under periodic shelling and Japanese attacks.
Sometimes they would watch the fireworks of Navy battles offshore. "We'd see the flames going through the air, they'd land and explode and we'd cheer, but we really didn't know if it was us or them that got hit," Kvoriak said.
Kvoriak recalled that by the time the leathernecks were relieved by Army troops, "We were totally emaciated. At least 95 percent of our guys had malaria, dysentery or dengue fever. I had malaria so many times, I thought I was going to die.
"One thing I remember thinking was if I get killed in action, OK. But if I die on the battlefield of malaria, I felt my parents would be embarrassed," he added. "It worried me."
Joe Kvoriak recalled his experiences on Guadalcanal for a 2009 Plain Dealer story.
Life, death and the very occasional woman
Alex Kunevicius' Army unit was encamped near Henderson Field, a prime target of nearly daily bombardment by Japanese ships, planes and artillery.
In a 2009 Plain Dealer story, the Independence resident recalled that one of the first things that he and fellow company members did was to put all their wallets in one place, agreeing that whoever survived would send their belongings home.
There was no panic, just grim acceptance, according to Kunevicius. "A lot of people ask me about fear, but somehow that stuff just disappeared," he said.
Occasionally there were bright moments. "We were in our little camp, and somebody came over and said there was a woman on Henderson Field," Kunevicius recalled. "I never saw a woman on Guadalcanal. It was a nurse, and guys ran to see her.
"I know, it's silly. I didn't go."
Alex Kunevicius served with an Army unit encamped near Henderson Field, the biggest target on Guadalcanal.
Plain Dealer file photo
Kill or be killed in the air
Chester Novak served with the Army Air Corps' 68th Fighter Pursuit Squadron at Guadalcanal, and in a 1995 Plain Dealer story the Parma resident recalled that the prevailing attitude back then was "kill or be killed. You had to go up and do your job, and you'd better be good at it.
"Our first or second day there, our commanding officer was killed in combat because he didn't know how to fight a Zero (Japanese fighter)," he added. "Their planes were light and maneuverable, while ours were heavy and slow, so you had to learn how to hit and run, and not dogfight with them."
They learned the hard way, but they learned.
"We found out their planes were mostly magnesium, which burns, so instead of armor-piercing bullets we'd mix in some incendiaries," said Novak.
"There were a lot of things the early squadrons found out, and the later ones benefited from that experience."
Chester Novak is shown in a 1995 photo with his memorabilia from the service.
AP photo
Both sides just doing their job
In a 2008 Plain Dealer story, Charles Evans said when he was a Marine fighting in the Pacific, he never hated the Japanese, not even when they were killing his buddies.
He said he'd learned during his first of six island battles, at Guadalcanal, that the Japanese were "damn good soldiers. They were doing their job, and we were trying to do ours. Fortunately, we prevailed."
Looking back, the Lakewood resident also noted that "the exhilaration of combat is, in a perverse way, enjoyable.
"Combat is wonderful if you don't get hurt too bad or killed. It makes you realize that other things in life are relatively unimportant."
Japanese prisoners captured during the battle of Guadalcanal.
Plain Dealer file photo
War through a camera lens
Lawrence Cole arrived on Guadalcanal with other members of the Army's Americal Division in late 1942.
In a 2012 Plain Dealer story, the Mayfield Village resident said he soon learned that the prevailing sentiment on Guadalcanal was that "the only good Jap is a dead Jap. That was our language."
Cole worked in an intelligence unit, patrolling the front lines and taking photos used to pinpoint suspected enemy positions that could be attacked or bombarded.
His "darkroom" was a foxhole at night, using film developer and fixer mixed with rain water and poured into two helmets.
Given the nearly constant rainfall, soaring heat and oppressive humidity, Guadalcanal "had to be one of the worst places in the world to fight a war," Cole said.
In this 2012 photo, Lawrence Cole holds the Kodak camera he used as a U.S. Army combat photographer on Guadalcanal.
Photo courtesy of Lawrence Cole
A chronicle of combat
Lawrence Cole kept a diary of his days on Guadalcanal, and a few excerpts include:
Nov. 20: "We dug slit trenches and remained in them most of the time. Snipers and mortar shells were taking their toll."
Nov. 26 (Thanksgiving): "Today makes me think of one thing, and that is eating, but we were sadly disappointed. Our supper consisted of two spoonfuls of beans and two frankfurts."
Dec. 7: "A year ago today was the attack by the Japs of Pearl Harbor. So today the artillery batteries are going to make sure the Japs remember that date by firing 5,000 shells at their targets."
Dec. 25: "Two U.S. destroyers shelled Kokumbuna and shore positions. For two hours they poured salvo after salvo into the Japs — our Christmas present to them."
Looking back on his experience, Cole said, "We did what we had to do. My major concern wasn't whether I did something right or did something wrong. I was just glad to be alive."
The fight at sea
A critical concern for both sides during the battle for Guadalcanal was keeping troops on the island reinforced and resupplied.
Due to the daytime threat of American fighters and bombers at Henderson Field, the Japanese were forced to ship their troops and supplies at night.
Several of the major naval engagements at Guadalcanal were the result of these forays in an effort that became known as the "Tokyo Express" as Japanese ships tried to reinforce their forces or bombard Henderson Field.
These included the Battle of Savo Island, described as one of the worst U.S. Navy defeats, when one Australian and three U.S. cruisers were sunk.
Both sides were mauled in the August Battle of the Eastern Solomons, and the October battles of Cape Esperance and Santa Cruz Island.
By November, America had lost two aircraft carriers, the USS Wasp and the USS Hornet, and a third carrier, the USS Enterprise, had been heavily damaged twice.
But that month, in what became known as the Naval Battle of Guadalcanal, Nov. 12-15, the tide turned in favor of the U.S. The opening rounds of that conflict included a point-blank, night-time brawl between ships firing at distances of only 1,000 yards.
When the smoke cleared, the Japanese had lost two battleships, a cruiser, three destroyers and 11 transports carrying an estimated 5,000 troops. U.S. losses included two cruisers and seven destroyers.
Naval action would continue until the Japanese finally evacuated their remaining troops from Guadalcanal in February 1943.
In the final tally, each side had about two dozen fighting ships sunk. Included on the Japanese side were two battleships, one carrier, four cruisers, 11 destroyers and six submarines, to the Americans' two carriers, eight cruisers and 14 destroyers.
But these losses were particularly acute for Japan, which did not have the same capability as the U.S. to replace the lost ships for the remainder of the war.
The aircraft carrier USS Wasp (CV-7) burns after the impact of three torpedoes from a Japanese submarine during the battle of Guadalcanal. Damage was so severe that the carrier had to be abandoned and scuttled.
Guadalcanal campaign video revisit
AP photo
Beginning of the end
Guadalcanal would be the first step in a long and bloody march across the Pacific as the Japanese fell back on the defensive.
There would be many other islands to fall – Tarawa, Saipan, Iwo Jima and Okinawa, to name a few – and epic battles to be waged.
Lessons were learned on both sides from this initial face-off in terms of combat tactics and strategy.
The losses at Guadalcanal were a particularly sobering omen of battles to come.
Estimates vary widely. U.S. ground forces lost some 2,000 killed and 3,000-5,000 wounded, but the total death toll has been estimated to reach upwards of 7,000 if including naval forces, with nearly 8,000 wounded.
Of the estimated 37,000 Japanese forces assembled on Guadalcanal, some 23,000-28,000 died of combat or disease.
As one Japanese general later noted: "Guadalcanal is no longer merely a name of an island in Japanese military history. It is the name of the graveyard of the Japanese army."
Japanese dead lie half-buried in sand following an attack on American positions during the battle of Guadalcanal.
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