Invasion Rabaul (15 page)

In the middle of the night, a bright flare over Simpson Harbor encouraged Pearson. “We were also told that the Americans were coming to give
us support, and when a Catalina dropped a parachute flare in the early hours of the morning, we thought it was a light to guide them in.”

Only much later did the Australians realize that the expected help from the United States was a myth. In the meantime, the sound of gunfire and mortars reached the squad from the direction of Vulcan Crater, a few miles to the north. The moment of truth had arrived.

A
T
R
ALUANA
P
OINT
, C
APTAIN
S
ELBY AND HIS TIRED MILITIAMEN WAITED
tensely alongside Y Company. They had not reached the position until midnight, whereupon Captain Shiers directed them to place their single Vickers gun down on the beach. But only one small trench had been dug, and there were no wire defenses, so Selby detached five men armed with rifles to cover the machine gun, and moved the rest back to an old World War I emplacement behind the beach.

By this time, the Australians at Raluana Point were no longer deluded into believing they were on an exercise. Thanks to the faulty telephone service, Lieutenant Dawson had paid a personal visit during the night, and he’d informed Shelby and Shier about what they were up against.
“I told them about the Jap task force and told them that it was no exercise,” he later stated. “Thus I disobeyed the orders I had received from Scanlan.”

At about 0230, a star shell burst high above St. George’s Channel. There, gut-wrenchingly close to the shore, were the dark silhouettes of Japanese ships. Moments later the landing craft of Kuwada’s 8th Company approached the beach.

As Gunner Bloomfield later remembered, the battle commenced with a haunting sound:

An enemy bugler started to blow a call, which ended abruptly, followed by a short period of silence. Then all hell broke loose. Naval guns flashed, followed by shells bursting overhead and behind us. Star shells again lit the area and we could see landing craft approaching. They were going
to land at Raluana.

As they came within range our mortar crews went into action and as soon as the landing craft scraped on the sand and lowered their front platforms, the order
“open fire, open fire” was being shouted and every gun on Raluana opened up.

Bathed in the surreal glow of star shells, the Australians poured small-arms fire into the invaders, and the first wave got no farther than the beach before their advance faltered. Japanese soldiers could be heard moving about in the surf and exhorting their troops to prepare for another attack, but after a few bursts from the Vickers gun, the noises stopped.

The silence lasted only a few minutes before the Japanese charged again. Simultaneously, the 8th Company sent landing craft around the far side of Raluana Point, and a few boatloads of troops rushed the defenders from behind. The Australians lacked the personnel and weaponry to withstand encirclement, and soon expended their ammunition. Once that happened, their fortitude quickly faltered. Noncoms and officers could be heard shouting “fall back,” and “the beach is lost!”

Selby had just started toward the beach when he heard
“a crescendo of wild, savage yells.” The sounds, which came from the Japanese as they charged uphill, further unnerved the Australians. Selby met a sergeant from Y Company coming in the opposite direction and was told: “Shier’s orders are to retire to Three Ways. The beach is in enemy hands.”

In military terms, “retire” usually implies an orderly withdrawal. But as the 8th Company swarmed ashore, the Australians were soon routed. They dashed recklessly through the undergrowth to their parked trucks, and one vehicle stalled, its clutch stripped by a frantic driver. The rest of the trucks, filled to overflowing, crawled up the steep incline to the plateau. Gaining the top, one driver proved overzealous in his bid to get away from the Japanese and failed to negotiate a sharp curve. The truck overturned, spilling men into the ditch. No one was seriously hurt, but the soldiers had to walk or hitchhike several miles to Three Ways, and some did not arrive until nearly dawn.

W
HILE THE 2ND
C
OMPANY, 1ST
B
ATTALION SEARCHED IN VAIN FOR THE
phantom gun batteries, more Japanese troops landed on the north shore of Crater Peninsula. The 2nd Battalion, led by Colonel Masao Kusunose, went ashore near the village of Nordup, but at less than full strength. Missing were the 4th Company and the 55th Mountain Artillery, both of
which remained aboard the transport
China Maru
. The ship had become temporarily lost in the darkness, and Kusunose chose to proceed without it rather than upset the timetable. Not that it mattered. The troops that landed were never challenged as they advanced from
Nordup up Namanula Hill. They occupied Government House at 0500, then moved down into the dark, empty streets of Rabaul.

I
NITIALLY,
K
UWADA’S 7TH
C
OMPANY MET NO OPPOSITION WHEN IT LANDED
south of Vulcan Crater, but the going was slow. Hemmed in by the steep sides of the caldera, the troops could not locate a road that had been marked in aerial photographs. Teams of sappers turned to the arduous job of felling trees to clear a path for the heavy vehicles that would be landing at daybreak.

To the 7th’s right, the 9th Company began moving southward around the base of Mount Vulcan, having twice failed to penetrate the Australian defenses. Using deep ravines for cover, the Japanese concentrated most of their forces against the Australians’ right flank. However, the rough terrain temporarily held the Japanese in check, and the assault broke down into firefights that gradually intensified.

The telephone line linking A Company to headquarters was severed, leaving Major Owen and his men isolated below the rim of the caldera. Their situation continued to deteriorate as more Japanese landed south of Vulcan, beyond the range of the mortars, and gathered in the ravines. They used signal flags to mark rallying points, and continually probed against the Australian defenses. Private Edward P. Saligari, a machine-gunner from Cavendish, Victoria, suppressed many of the enemy’s signaling attempts and was credited with silencing a machine gun team. At times the fighting raged close to the Australian defenses. Five members of A Company were killed during the night, including Owen’s batman, cut down by a Japanese soldier who broke through the lines.

With the communications cut, no reserves or supplies came down from the plateau, and the mortar crews began to run low on ammunition. Captain Dudley F. “Fred” Field and Private James N. Olney made two trips up the escarpment in the darkness and returned with enough rounds for the crews to extend their barrage. The teams shifted targets every time they sighted a rallying flag or signal flare, but by dawn their
supply was exhausted. The mortar crews had fired some 300 shells, and still the Japanese poured onto the beaches.

C
ROUCHED IN HIS OBSERVATION POST ON THE PLATEAU ABOVE
V
ULCAN
Crater, Lieutenant Dawson was frustrated. Not only had he violated a direct order the previous night by informing Selby and Shier about the invasion fleet, he had spent the next several hours listening helplessly to the battle that raged below his position. He could not see what was happening down in the caldera, as he had lost contact with A Company and the other units
at Vulcan soon after the fighting began.

When daybreak finally came, Dawson hiked to a primitive native church overlooking the anchorage. He was stunned by the vista of enemy ships spread out before him. In the foreground, four destroyers steamed smartly into Simpson Harbor in line abreast, and a cargo ship approached the Government Wharf. Landing craft swarmed everywhere, some bringing reinforcements to the nearby beaches, others heading across the harbor toward Crater Peninsula. Out in the roadstead of Blanche Bay and St. George’s Channel, Dawson could see two aircraft carriers, a landing craft transporter, several more cruisers, troopships, and a host of support vessels. He counted thirty-one ships in all, and figured more were out there.

Near the little church, a rough track led down the steep side of the caldera toward Vulcan. Believing he could use the trail to guide Major Owen and his men up to the plateau, Dawson hastened back to headquarters to find help. After first giving Lieutenant Colonel Carr a quick situation report, he rounded up privates Leslie W. “Curly” Smith and Norris Kennedy, and they started off toward the church in a battalion car.

But as Dawson later explained, they did not get far.

On turning the last curve before the mission we saw there in the middle of the road a full platoon of Japs and several natives. With them was one of the local German missionaries shaking hands with an officer who appeared to be the platoon commander. I had seen the German earlier in the morning and he impressed me as being very pleased about something. It was now clear. The impression I got was that these natives had led the Japs up the
track, because it was utterly impossible to find from the lower end. That was the reason I was going down to lead A Company out.

The Japs opened fire at a range of about 50 yards. The car stopped and I got out. The two men ran around in front of the car and I think they must have been killed. I went round the back of the car and made off, running back along the road until I got around the corner.

Smith, a thirty-year-old fisherman from the Victoria coast, was indeed shot dead. Kennedy, known by his friends as “Norrie,” managed to escape into the jungle but was later found by the Japanese and taken prisoner.

Dawson, disoriented after running to safety, found a trustworthy Tolai native who agreed to guide him to the next road junction. As they approached the intersection, however, Dawson saw that some enemy soldiers had gotten there first. He ducked into the jungle and “broke bush” through the heavy undergrowth, struggling for hours while the sounds of battle intensified around him. At last he emerged onto the Kokopo road and met a platoon from D Company.

The Australians had been instructed to walk toward Malabunga Mission, so Dawson steered them down a track that led in the general direction. Near Vunakanau, a sudden burst of machine gun fire drove them back into the bushes, and they ran through fields of tall, razor-sharp kunai grass until Dawson called a halt. Stunned by the terrible turn of events, exhausted by the exertion of their retreat, they dropped to the ground and spent the rest of the day in hiding.

D
OWN AT
V
ULCAN, MEANWHILE
, B
ILL
O
WEN HAD DECIDED IT WAS FUTILE TO
continue resistance. With the coming of daybreak, he could see waves of enemy landing craft still approaching the beach, and Japanese troops hiding in the ravines were
“doing a lot of yelling.” Worse, artillery shells began to fall among his positions, some fired by warships in the harbor, others by pack howitzers in the streets of Rabaul. On the left, several landing craft began to disgorge more troops. Soon they would cut off the Australians’ main escape route, a steep road called the Big Dipper, which led up to the
plateau. Antitank guns fired almost point-blank into the landing craft, but the solid-steel practice rounds caused minimal damage.

Shortly before 0700, Owen ordered his men to withdraw to Four Ways and instructed them to make for Tobera plantation individually if the Japanese held the intersection. Leapfrogging one another, the platoons provided covering fire as they pulled back. The last moved out with
“the Japs very close” behind them, and men clawed their way up the slopes, dumping weapons and equipment as they struggled through the thick vegetation. Enemy aircraft suddenly appeared overhead and strafed the retreating troops, who were almost too weary to hide by the time they reached the top of the escarpment.

Owen was among the last to leave. He started up the Big Dipper, then noticed that the truck assigned to the aid post was sitting idle, its driver missing. Taking over the vehicle, he started up the hill just as Doc Silverman climbed aboard. Shells were
“bursting round the truck,” recalled Captain Field, as the two officers drove up the road and left the beachhead to the Japanese.

A
BOARD HIS FLAGSHIP,
R
EAR
A
DMIRAL
S
HIMA WATCHED AS 0400 CAME
and went. Seeing no flares to confirm the capture of the coastal guns, he reluctantly ordered all vessels to
“retreat to special anchorage positions.” Simultaneously, Major General Horii issued a signal for his troops to prepare for a second assault on Crater Peninsula. The orders had barely been communicated, however, when three white flares burst high above the South Daughter.

Shima ordered the fleet to hold its position. Later, it was determined that the company commander had been reluctant “to fire signal shots irresponsibly,” and risked his own neck to make absolutely certain the two wrecked emplacements were the only ones on the peninsula.

Now that his ships were safe, Shima ordered several ships to proceed directly into Simpson Harbor. At approximately 0530, the
Okinoshima
and another large minelayer, the
Tsugaru
, steamed to the waterfront and offloaded 170 members of the Maizuru 2nd Special Naval Landing Force. Shortly thereafter, the
Tenyo Maru
delivered another 130 SNLF troops which had previously completed a sweep of nearby Credner Island. The naval infantry “mopped up the city,” claimed an Imperial Navy summary, though the soldiers of the 2nd Battalion had actually gotten there first.

A
FTER BOARDING A LANDING CRAFT FROM THE
Y
OKOHAMA
M
ARU,
M
AJOR
General Horii went ashore on Matupi Island briefly to observe the overall situation. He ordered the 1st and 2nd Battalions to converge on Rabaul, then returned to the landing craft and headed toward Rabaul. During the ride across Simpson Harbor, he was inspired by the sight of 3rd Battalion troops as they landed “in the rain of shells which poured down from Vulcan.” He disembarked at the waterfront and proceeded to Chinatown, where Tsukamoto and Kusunose briefed him on the invasion’s progress. At about 0830 a message arrived from Kuwada: the 3rd Battalion was encountering resistance at Three Ways, and the capture of Vunakanau airdrome would be slightly delayed. In response, Horii directed Kusunose to shift his battalion toward the southern plateau to assist Kuwada.