timschochet
Footballguy
Guadalcanal Part 13
That night, Pistol Pete's big shells ripped up the Henderson airways and for the moment made flight impossible. Then he shifted sights to hammer the perimeter, swinging to Kukum to blow up naval stores- and finally falling on the men of the 164th with such rending red terror that a sergeant crawled about begging his men to shoot him. Red flares shot up from the jungle, Pistol Pete roared and roared, enemy aircraft circled overhead, eluding flak and dropping bombs, and Marines stumbled into foxholes, climbed out of them, ran back to them, bracing in expectation of they knew not what. At 1:30 in the morning, the Night of the Battleships began. Mighty Haruna and Kongo had steamed down from Rabaul. Cruisers and destroyers had come with them, some to join in the airfield bombardment, others to protect 7 transports loaded with General Maruyama's remaining troops.
The star shells rose, exploding like giant ferris wheels to shower the night with streamers of light. American troops had never before been exposed to such cannonading and would never be again. Henderson Field's bombers were blown to bits and set afire. Foxholes buried their occupants. Men were killed-41 of them- and many more were wounded. But the overall effect on the surviving Marines was devastating. In that cataclysm, when every shell seemed to explode with the pent up flame and fury of a full thunderstorm, men whimpered aloud. Others burst into sobs and ran from their pits rather than betray their weakness, if such it was, to their comrades. The bombardment lasted 80 minutes, and then the ships masked their guns and sailed north. The bombers remained until dawn. Pistol Pete did not stop even then.
The airfield was a shambles. The main strip was unusable. Of 38 bombers, only 4 survived the shelling. But these four went roaring skyward from Fighter Strip 1 to strike at the Japanese transports, which had put Maruyama's troops ashore during the night. They sank one, and flew back to an airfield where Marine engineers and Seabees were already hauling fill to the big strip. They patched together 10 bombers that day. They filled gas tanks by hand, hauled bomb trailers by hand, and did all this while Japanese bombers swept over Henderson Field again and again, for Cactus Air Force must be ready to go by the next day, when the remaining Japanese cargo ships would surely return to unload General Maruyama's supplies. And then they discovered they were running out of gasoline. In desperation, a search party was ordered to find a cache of 400 drums of gasoline which had been buried outside the airfield in the early days. Somehow, somehow, the engineers and mechanics kept the patchwork air force flying.
The Japanese could not believe it. It was incredible, the Americans had no right to be airborne. The departing warships had assured the transports that American air power at Guadalcanal was now defunct; no airfield could possibly survive that pounding. But here they were coming with the sun glinting off their wings- Wildcats, Dauntlesses, Avengers, Army-P-39s and P-400s, and later Flying Forts from Espiritu. Henderson mechanics had not slept in 3 days, but they had made good their vow to salvage all but bullet holes. 1,000 pound and 500 pound bombs fell among the Japanese ships and beached supplies, bullets flayed and scattered enemy shore parties.
One bit of individual heroics needs to be mentioned here before we finish with the ordeal of Pistol Pete. By the morning of October 16, Henderson had lost so many aircraft that they signalled New Hebrides in desperation for more. In came 19 Wildcats and 7 more Dauntlesses, let by Lt. Col. Joe Bauer. His Squadron 212 came in just as the Japanese launced a savage dive bombing attack on the field and American ships in the bay. Bauer's gas tanks were nearly empty, but there were 8 enemy Vals plummeting down on a wildly zigzagging destroyer. Bauer went after them alone, He pulled back on the stick and went slashing up through his own antiaircraft fire and then came roaring down again. He shot down 4 Vals before he landed, and he saved the destroyer, It was swift, as aerial combat goes, but it was then, and has remained, the most extraordinary feat of individual heroism among the Henderson airmen. Bauer got a Medal of Honor for it, and it increased his individual score of kills to an amazing 11.
That night, Pistol Pete's big shells ripped up the Henderson airways and for the moment made flight impossible. Then he shifted sights to hammer the perimeter, swinging to Kukum to blow up naval stores- and finally falling on the men of the 164th with such rending red terror that a sergeant crawled about begging his men to shoot him. Red flares shot up from the jungle, Pistol Pete roared and roared, enemy aircraft circled overhead, eluding flak and dropping bombs, and Marines stumbled into foxholes, climbed out of them, ran back to them, bracing in expectation of they knew not what. At 1:30 in the morning, the Night of the Battleships began. Mighty Haruna and Kongo had steamed down from Rabaul. Cruisers and destroyers had come with them, some to join in the airfield bombardment, others to protect 7 transports loaded with General Maruyama's remaining troops.
The star shells rose, exploding like giant ferris wheels to shower the night with streamers of light. American troops had never before been exposed to such cannonading and would never be again. Henderson Field's bombers were blown to bits and set afire. Foxholes buried their occupants. Men were killed-41 of them- and many more were wounded. But the overall effect on the surviving Marines was devastating. In that cataclysm, when every shell seemed to explode with the pent up flame and fury of a full thunderstorm, men whimpered aloud. Others burst into sobs and ran from their pits rather than betray their weakness, if such it was, to their comrades. The bombardment lasted 80 minutes, and then the ships masked their guns and sailed north. The bombers remained until dawn. Pistol Pete did not stop even then.
The airfield was a shambles. The main strip was unusable. Of 38 bombers, only 4 survived the shelling. But these four went roaring skyward from Fighter Strip 1 to strike at the Japanese transports, which had put Maruyama's troops ashore during the night. They sank one, and flew back to an airfield where Marine engineers and Seabees were already hauling fill to the big strip. They patched together 10 bombers that day. They filled gas tanks by hand, hauled bomb trailers by hand, and did all this while Japanese bombers swept over Henderson Field again and again, for Cactus Air Force must be ready to go by the next day, when the remaining Japanese cargo ships would surely return to unload General Maruyama's supplies. And then they discovered they were running out of gasoline. In desperation, a search party was ordered to find a cache of 400 drums of gasoline which had been buried outside the airfield in the early days. Somehow, somehow, the engineers and mechanics kept the patchwork air force flying.
The Japanese could not believe it. It was incredible, the Americans had no right to be airborne. The departing warships had assured the transports that American air power at Guadalcanal was now defunct; no airfield could possibly survive that pounding. But here they were coming with the sun glinting off their wings- Wildcats, Dauntlesses, Avengers, Army-P-39s and P-400s, and later Flying Forts from Espiritu. Henderson mechanics had not slept in 3 days, but they had made good their vow to salvage all but bullet holes. 1,000 pound and 500 pound bombs fell among the Japanese ships and beached supplies, bullets flayed and scattered enemy shore parties.
One bit of individual heroics needs to be mentioned here before we finish with the ordeal of Pistol Pete. By the morning of October 16, Henderson had lost so many aircraft that they signalled New Hebrides in desperation for more. In came 19 Wildcats and 7 more Dauntlesses, let by Lt. Col. Joe Bauer. His Squadron 212 came in just as the Japanese launced a savage dive bombing attack on the field and American ships in the bay. Bauer's gas tanks were nearly empty, but there were 8 enemy Vals plummeting down on a wildly zigzagging destroyer. Bauer went after them alone, He pulled back on the stick and went slashing up through his own antiaircraft fire and then came roaring down again. He shot down 4 Vals before he landed, and he saved the destroyer, It was swift, as aerial combat goes, but it was then, and has remained, the most extraordinary feat of individual heroism among the Henderson airmen. Bauer got a Medal of Honor for it, and it increased his individual score of kills to an amazing 11.