Fortress Rabaul (35 page)

Kenney also investigated the camp areas. “Throughout the Moresby area the camps are poorly laid out and the food situation is extremely bad,” he later wrote. “There is no mosquito control discipline and the malaria and dysentery rates are forcing relief of a unit at the end of about two months’ duty.”

Now Kenney knew why MacArthur was displeased. Nobody seemed to be doing anything about the appalling conditions at Port Moresby, though Kenney did find a few subordinates—none above the rank of major—who were actually attempting to improve things.

After a quick assessment of the overall situation, Kenney immediately began to make changes. First, he told Whitehead to remain at Port Moresby to “look after the fighters” and implement some new policies. He directed that an American staff officer attend every mission briefing; also, every bombing mission would have a specific primary target assigned along with at least two alternates. Finally, he instructed Whitehead to inform Legg that if he didn’t snap out of his lethargy, he’d be replaced.

Accompanied by Royce, Kenney returned to Townsville on August 31 and spent the day looking over the base—the most important in Australia. It was the center of operations for an increasing number of air groups at widely scattered locations, including a brand-new airfield at Mareeba, 180 miles to the northwest near Cairns. Kenney flew to Mareeba the following day and met with Dick Carmichael, recently promoted to lieutenant colonel, who had taken over the 19th Bomb Group. The move to Mareeba had been beneficial for the group. The base was 400 miles closer to Port Moresby, which shortened the missions considerably, and the wooded landscape surrounding the airfield was far more pleasant than the hot, fly-infested outback.

Despite the improvements, the airmen were exhausted and morale remained low. And, as Kenney soon discovered, an even bigger problem affected daily operations: the supply system was terribly inefficient. It astounded him to learn that eighteen of the B-17s at Mareeba were grounded for lack of engine parts and tail wheels, all because of bottlenecks
in the supply line. Orders for replacement parts were sent via Townsville to Charters Towers, which had limited stocks, so the paperwork had to be forwarded to the main supply depot at Tocumwal, twelve hundred miles away in New South Wales. A month would sometimes elapse before a reply came, which too often was negative: either the part was unavailable or the requisition form had not been filled out properly. The snafus galled Kenney, who realized that hidebound desk jockeys were responsible for the disruptions. Arming himself with a detailed requisition list, he told Carmichael to cancel all missions except essential patrols and get ready for a maximum effort scheduled for a few days hence.

Kenney flew back to Townsville on the morning of August 2 and relieved Royce, then continued to Brisbane and went right back to work. He telephoned Maj. Gen. Rush B. Lincoln, commander of air services in Australia, and gave him the list of desired spare parts, which were to be airlifted to Mareeba as soon as possible.

Next, as promised, Kenney debriefed MacArthur on his trip to the forward area.

I told him frankly what I thought was wrong with the Air Force set-up in both Australia and New Guinea and discussed the corrective action that I intended to take immediately. I asked him to give me authority to send home anyone that I thought was deadwood. He said, “Go ahead. You have my enthusiastic approval.” I then discussed the air situation and told him that I wanted to carry out one primary mission, which was to take out the Jap air strength until we owned the air over New Guinea. That there was no use talking about playing across the street until we got the Nips off our front lawn.

MacArthur gave Kenney unconditional approval to implement his plan. More importantly, he promised not to micromanage Kenney’s troops. He didn’t care what the men looked like or what they did as long as they “would fight, shoot down Japs, and put bombs on the targets.”

CHAPTER 19

Medal of Honor: Harl Pease Jr.

P
RIOR TO MIDWAY
, the staff at Imperial General Headquarters realized the importance of establishing an airfield in the eastern Solomon Islands. The capture of Tulagi in early May had given the Japanese a fine anchorage for warships and flying boats, and the addition of an airdrome would strengthen the defensive perimeter around Rabaul. It would also serve as a point for launching attacks against Allied bases in New Caledonia and the New Hebrides. But there were no suitable construction sites in the immediate vicinity of Tulagi for an airdrome large enough to accommodate land attack aircraft as well as fighters.

However, just twenty-three miles to the south lay the large island of Guadalcanal, which featured a broad plain near its northern coast. Home to thousands of Melanesian natives for untold generations, the island had been “discovered” by the Spanish in 1568, whereupon a member of the expedition named it in honor of his hometown. For hundreds of years the name appeared as
Guadalcanar
on most nautical charts, but the spelling was corrected after the island became part of the British Solomon Islands Protectorate. In the decades before World War II, segments of the coast had been developed for copra production. Lever Brothers, makers of popular English soaps, established plantations along the northern shore
and were joined by Australian interests such as Burns, Philp & Company. The latter also operated a rubber plantation, and an enterprising rancher grazed a herd of cattle on the grassy plain, thereby providing a supply of fresh beef to nearby islands.

The Japanese investigated the island’s potential almost immediately. Two weeks after settling in at Tulagi, the commanding officer of the Yokohama Air Group reported that Guadalcanal offered good attributes for an airfield. Engineers and staff from the 25th Air Flotilla and 8th Base Force departed from Rabaul in a flying boat on May 25 and visited Guadalcanal two days later to confirm the report. Slightly over a mile inland, just east of the Lunga River, they located a site for an airfield.

On June 1, Rear Admiral Yamada sent a letter to his immediate superior, Vice Adm. Nishizo Tsukahara (commander of the Eleventh Air Fleet, headquartered on Tinian), requesting the establishment of an airfield at Guadalcanal. Copies were also telegrammed to the staffs of the Combined Fleet and Imperial General Headquarters, resulting in two more inspection trips. Vice Admiral Inoue conducted the last trip in person on June 19, flying down from Rabaul to visit the site. At about the same time, small parties of naval troops from Tulagi set up tent encampments on Guadalcanal. They built a wharf and burned the kunai grasses off the plain; they also shot some of the cattle and ransacked plantations, which had been abandoned by their owners before Tulagi fell.

In late June the fast transport
Kinryu Maru
departed from Truk in company with several other cargo ships and an escort of five destroyers. Arriving off Guadalcanal on July 6, the transports offloaded the 11th and 13th Establishment Units along with tons of construction equipment: approximately one hundred trucks, four heavy tractors, six mechanized road rollers, two generators, an ice-making plant, and a pair of narrow-gauge locomotives with a dozen hopper cars. Construction of the airstrip began on July 16 and proceeded quickly with the help of Melanesian muscle. (The Japanese issued a declaration that all native men between the ages of fifteen and fifty must work for them. The islanders’ only compensation was a vague promise of “identification as a civilian” at some future time.)

Although most of the plantation owners had evacuated the island, a few courageous individuals stayed behind to spy on the Japanese. Recruited previously into Eric Feldt’s coastwatching organization, they observed the airfield construction from hilltop hideouts and sent trustworthy natives
to infiltrate Japanese work gangs. At great risk, the coastwatchers reported each new development by radio, providing Allied commanders with invaluable intelligence about the progress of the enemy airfield. Periodic reconnaissance missions supplemented the coastwatchers’ reports. Photo runs over Tulagi by the former 40th Reconnaissance Squadron (redesignated the 435th Bombardment Squadron in May) commenced on June 18. Three weeks later the “Kangaroo Squadron,” as it was nicknamed, began conducting daily photographic missions over the area. Two Marine Corps officers, Lt. Col. Merrill B. Twining and Maj. William McKean, accompanied the 435th’s mission on July 17. Observing the work on the Guadalcanal airfield, Twining remarked, “
I hope they build a good one
. We are going to use it.”

Twining knew what he was talking about. Even before the Japanese began work on the airfield, the U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff had decided on a bold plan to wrest control of the southern Solomons from the enemy. The recent naval battles had revealed that Japan’s vaunted forces could be defeated, and the Joint Chiefs capitalized on the opportunity for America’s first offensive. On July 2, less than seven months after Pearl Harbor, they produced an outline titled “Joint Directive for Offensive Operations in Southwest Pacific Area.” The two-page document named a single objective: the conquest of the Bismarcks and New Guinea.

The plan was ambitious, but the Joint Chiefs broke it down into three separate tasks. The first was the “seizure and occupation of [the] Santa Cruz Islands, Tulagi and adjacent positions”; the second called for the capture of the upper Solomons and the northeast coast of New Guinea; and the third was the occupation of Rabaul and other key positions in the Bismarcks and New Guinea. No timeline was given. The plan would obviously require years to accomplish.

The Joint Chiefs moved swiftly to initiate the first task, named Operation Watchtower. The amphibious assault on Tulagi, initially scheduled for August 1, was delayed six days when the airfield on Guadalcanal was discovered. MacArthur lobbied hard to oversee the operation—the eastern boundary of his area of command, longitude 160 degrees east, cut through Guadalcanal almost precisely at Lunga Point—but he was also dealing with the Japanese invasion of Buna in his own backyard.

As it turned out, the Joint Chiefs already had Admiral Nimitz in mind to command Operation Watchtower. Due to his recent victory at Midway
he was a bona fide superstar, not only within the navy but across the entire country. More importantly, he possessed the naval and amphibious forces needed for the offensive, including a division of marines currently being trained at Wellington, New Zealand. Determined to keep the operation a one-man show, the Joint Chiefs arbitrarily moved the boundary of the Southwest Pacific Area to longitude 159 degrees east, thereby placing Guadalcanal and Tulagi within the South Pacific Area (SOPAC), one of three subdivisions of the vast Pacific Ocean Areas under the supreme command of Nimitz.

MacArthur objected vigorously but was pacified when the Joint Chiefs promised to shift command to his jurisdiction for the second and third tasks outlined in the Joint Directive. With that reassurance, he pledged to assist with whatever support he could provide.

It was at this juncture that George Kenney arrived in Australia. After visiting Port Moresby, he discussed with MacArthur the possible roles the heavy bombers could play in the forthcoming operation. Tulagi and Guadalcanal were about nine hundred miles due east of Port Moresby—too far for B-17s with a load of bombs—so Kenney planned to hammer Rabaul instead. He informed MacArthur that he had called a temporary halt to all B-17 missions so that the 19th Bomb Group could make needed repairs and rest its airmen prior to a maximum effort. “
When I told [MacArthur]
that I planned to put between 16 and 18 B-17s on Vunakanau on 6 August,” Kenney later wrote, “he looked as though he was about to kiss me.”

At daybreak on August 4,
The Swoose
took off for the United States with General Brett aboard, and Kenney took over as the commander of Allied Air Forces, Southwest Pacific Area.
*
The following day he flew to Mareeba to impress upon Dick Carmichael the importance of the mission to Rabaul. In his journal, Kenney noted that a B-17 reconnaissance flight
over Rabaul that morning had found “100 bombers and fighters lined up on Vunakanau airdrome.”

Oddly, Kenney had recorded an even higher number the previous day: “Information shows Jap concentration of approximately 150 airplanes, most of them bombers, at Vunakanau airdrome.” The source of Kenney’s information is unknown, but the Japanese had nowhere near that many planes at Rabaul. Whether the figures were an honest mistake or one of Kenney’s grandiosities, he hoped to suppress the enemy’s ability to launch counterattacks against the Guadalcanal invasion fleet. Urging Carmichael to have nineteen or twenty B-17s available for the strike, Kenney informed him that he expected his group commanders to personally “lead their groups in action.”

Unbeknownst to Kenney, Carmichael had not complied with his instruction to halt all bombing missions, possibly because Kenney was not officially Carmichael’s boss when he issued the instruction. On August 2, the day after Kenney’s first visit to Mareeba, Carmichael sent five B-17s to attack shipping near Buna. The Fortresses were intercepted by nine Zeros of the Tainan Air Group and jettisoned their bombs prior to reaching the target, rendering the mission useless. That didn’t stop the aggressive Japanese from shooting down one B-17 and damaging another, costing the 19th a valuable Fortress and the lives of nine crewmen.