.Apparently, however, unknown influences had induced Cushman to reconsider his initial refusal, for the 2nd Raider Regiment’s after-action report shows that at 1445 Company "H" was receiving 81mm mortar support, and at 1526 the commanding officer of the 2nd Battalion, 9th Marines, reported that 40 rounds had been delivered as requested. Indubitably better late than never.

Also contributing to the defense of the road block that afternoon was a four-legged Raider named Jack, a Belgian shepherd messenger dog who carried an urgent request for reinforcements. Early in the attack, the company suffered several casualties, including Jack with a bullet wound in his back, and his handler, Private, first class, Gordon J Wortman, with a crippling leg wound. Then, to complicate matters, infiltrators cut the field telephone line to the battalion command post, isolating the Raider company. By this time, the need for help was critical, and Jack was their only hope. Although he was in considerable pain, Wortman thought he could make it, and soon the gallant dog was on the way with a request for help. Twenty minutes later, exhausted, muddy, and bloody, Jack "reported" to his other handler, Private, first class, Paul J Castracane.

As Jack was earned off for treatment at the battalion aid station, the relief force was already assembling and preparing to leave. First to depart was a platoon from Company "E" led by First Lieutenant Thomas F. Maitland, the company executive. officer. A few minutes later Captain Joe Griffith’s company "G’ followed in trace. Within 25 minutes Maitland’s platoon arrived at the road block, having double-timed from the bivouac area 1500 yards away. Barely 1O minutes later, Company "G," also moving on the double, arrived at the position to provide much needed backup for hard-pressed Company "H".

One of the greatest tactical advantages of a Raider unit was its extraordinary foot mobility—much greater than that of an ordinary rifle unit of equivalent size. Indeed, mobility was our trademark, but once a Raider battalion arrived in the front lines, it did not have the heavy fire support capability that the regular infantry battalion had in its 81mm mortars. On the other hand, the 81mm mortar, the heaviest crew-served weapon in the regular battalion, did more to hamper their mobility than any other weapon.

Throughout the remainder of the afternoon, enemy forces continued to make small-scale probing attacks against Companies "G" and ‘H," but were handily driven off. At 1740, a sizeable force attempted to envelop Company "H" and cut off the road block but ran head-on into the Company "G" position and was repulsed. During the night, the Japanese repeatedly, but unsuccessfully attacked both companies with infiltration groups supported by 90mm mortars and knee mortars. Displaying superb fire discipline, the Raiders permitted the infiltrators to come within pointblank range before opening up with devastating effect, driving the enemy back each time with great losses.

A major role in the defeat of the would-be infiltrators was played by Rex, a Doberman pinscher scout dog, who detected the approaching Japanese well before they reached their attack positions. Thanks to Rex’s advance warning, the Raiders were on full alert and awaiting each attack throughout the night. Unfortunately, in the mortar barrage that preceded the last enemy attack just before day-break one of Rex’s handlers, Private, first class, William N. Hendrickson, was killed in action—the first fatality in the 1st War Dog Platoon. Rex suffered a slight loss of hearing, but his other handler, Private Charles Foist, was uninjured.

Shortly alter daybreak, a patrol from Company "H" made contact about 300 yards beyond the road block with what apparently was the command group of the enemy force. Private, first class, James W Singley, the point man on the patrol, recalls that he "... got into the clearing and started the battle. I… saw all the dozens of Japs setting up camp that morning. If they hadn’t seen us, I could have wiped out ten of their head officers."

Another patrol also had gone out 300 yards but made no contact until on the way back, when it encountered small groups of enemy soldiers. Deducing from the information provided by these patrols that an attack was imminent, Major Washburn prudently decided to reinforce the road block and ordered Company "M" forward from the reserve area. Arriving at the position, Company "M" displaced "G" which then replaced "H" on the forward position. Because of the uncertainty of the enemy situation, however, Company "H" remained at the roadblock and continued to send out patrols.

At about l045, shortly after Cunningham’s company arrived, the road block was attacked by elements of what was later identified as the1st and 3rd Battalions,23rd Infantry, supported by mortars and automatic weapons. The mortar fire was first directed against the Company "G" position astride the Piva Trail, then as Japanese machine gun and automatic rifle fire reached a peak, shifted to the depths of the position. At that time the Japanese infantry assaulted the Company "G" line, only to be met at close range by a devastating hail of hand grenades and rifle and machine gun fire from the Raiders and a defensive barrage from the artillery of the 12th Marines. Several times the enemy infantry hurled itself against this impenetrable curtain of fire and steel, only to falter and fall back, leaving the battlefield strewn with dead and dying.

As. the enemy pressure on the road block increased, Washburn committed the remainder of Company "E" to the action .Arriving at 1135, Bob Neal’s Raiders took up positions along the right side of the trail, tying in with the right flank of Company "G" and refusing their own right. The combined front of the two companies was then about 400 yards. At 1200 Company "L" was ordered forward from the reserve area and on arrival deployed on the left side of the trail, tying in with the left of Company "G" and refusing its own left. At this point, the Raiders’ defensive position had the appearance of two more-or-less concentric arcs On the outer arc, from right to left, were Companies "E,"" G," and "L," on the inner arc, Company "H" was positioned to the right of the trail behind "G" and "E" and Company "M" was located astride the trail behind "L."

The flanks of the road block were securely anchored on swampy terrain and well protected from enemy assault. Indeed two flanking attempts, each by at least two platoons, turned out to be frontal attacks in which the swamp, by constraining maneuver, forced the enemy to expose his troops to the full firepower of a well dug-in Raider company. In each of these attacks, the first on the right at the boundary between Companies "E" and "G" and the second against Company "L" on. the left, the enemy was driven back with heavy losses.

At 1300 Company "E" began a counterattack against the enemy left flank, but after advancing only 50 yards through the swamp, ran head-on into a large enemy force. After inflicting heavy casualties on the enemy, Company "E" withdrew to its former position. In the meantime, Company "F" had been ordered forward from the reserve area to a position midway between the front lines of the 2nd Battalion, 9th Marines, and the roadblock. From this position it would be immediately available to reinforce the defense of the road block, if needed, or to carry ammunition, water, and rations to the front and, above all, to evacuate casualties to the rear.

At 1345, the enemy hit Companies "G" and "E" with an all-out assault that once again shattered itself against the Raider defenses. Particularly effective were the well-ernplaced automatic rifles and machine guns, one of which mowed down 25 or 30 Japanese infantrymen as they charged down the Piva trail. After this abortive effort, the enemy force withdrew, and for the time being, the pressure was off the road block.

Meanwhile, as the battle increased in intensity, the 9th Marines had sent the 4th Platoon of its Weapons Company, supported by two tanks, to support the Raiders, however, the tanks and half-tracks could not be employed in their tactical roles because of the swamps and thick jungle. Even on the trail, their mobility was greatly limited. It had rained every single day since D-day, and heavy traffic had churned the water-soaked trail into a soupy slosh, two to four feet deep all the way from the beach to the road block. Nevertheless, the tanks and half-tracks moved as close as possible to the battle line and were usefully employed to evacuate casualties. This was a blessing for the wounded as well as those who had to evacuate them on litters.

Although the walking wounded could evacuate and take care of themselves over short distances, the non-ambulatory were another story. Usually, it took one or two men to drag or carry a disabled man from the direct and immediate danger of small arms fire and flying hand grenade fragments to where the Raiders’ guardian angels—the Navy corpsman—could administer life and limb-saving first aid. Then it took at least four men to carry even a small man through the several hundred yards of slosh, potted with holes four to five feet deep in spots, to the battalion aid station.

If further evacuation were necessary, it took six men, four carrying and two for relief and security, to move a stretcher to the tanks for further evacuation. From the aid station back down the Piva Trail, the litter bearers and walking wounded made their tortuous way, always in knee-deep, and frequently waist-deep, mud, tripping over gnarled banyan roots, slipping, and sometimes dropping the wounded into the mud. At the loading point, the litter bearers would place their loaded stretcher on the tank and head back toward the front. The walking wounded, still carrying their weapons, would climb aboard and enroute to the hospital provide security and help to hold the stretchers on the lurching tank. With the tank dropping suddenly into pot holes, pitching first to the right and then to the left, this was no easy task.

Under normal circumstances, tracked and wheeled vehicles transport casualties from the company aid station to the battalion aid station, field ambulances take them from there to the field hospital, and the use of able-bodied men to evacuate casualties from the front lines is kept to a minimum. Under the conditions thus far encountered on Bougainville, however, with evacuation distances over 1000 yards and poor or non-existent roads, casualty evacuation not only soaked up manpower, but time as well. Since it took over two hours for a casualty to reach the field hospital, only a few stretcher cases could quickly create a serious shortage of riflemen where the fighting was heaviest and where the firepower was needed most.

In short order, the Raiders had taken a number of casualties, 12 of whom could not walk, and the drain on the frontline units was beginning to tell. Having anticipated such a situation when the fighting erupted at the road block, Colonel Shapley had ordered Beans and Washburn, his battalion commanders each to position an uncommitted company where they would be available to carry ammunition and rations to the front and evacuate casualties. Then, if the situation required it, these companies could be moved quickly to relieve or reinforce units on the road block as was Maitland’s platoon on the afternoon of the seventh and Dale’s Company on the afternoon of the eighth.

At 1600, as the lull in enemy activity continued, Washburn was ordered to begin withdrawing his Raiders through the road block. To cover the withdrawal, Company "F" was sent forward from its support position and deployed between the road block and the enemy. Then the battalion began moving back, first Company "G," then "E," "F," and "L." Company "M" would remain in position and assume responsibility for the defense of the road block.

When the withdrawal was almost complete, the Japanese made one last attempt to break through, but quickly were driven back by the combined efforts of Companies "F," "H," and "L." Finally, after more than 28 hours of almost continuous combat, Washburn’s weary Raiders slowly made their way down the Piva Trail, through the lines of the 2nd Battalion 9th Marines, and on to their bivouac area for a well-earned break.

The two-day battle for the road block had cost the Japanese 125 confirmed killed and an unknown, but undoubtedly large number of wounded. Raider losses were nine killed in action, one missing in action, and 27 wounded in action. The dead, all except Hendrickson from the 2nd Raider Battalion, were Private, first class, Richard F Ford of Headquarters Company, Private, first class, Robert E Hajic of Company "E," Private Frank B Walker of Company "F," Private, first class, James J Ward and Privates James W Darnell and Frank G. Watson of Company "G," and Sergeant Ignatius J Gorack and Private, first class, Stuart Campbell of Company "H." Private, first class, Robert J Ankele of Company "F" was missing in action and later declared dead.

At 1630, the 3rd Raider Battalion, which earlier had moved into a bivouac area behind that of the 2nd Raider Battalion, was assigned responsibility for the defense of the road block and regained control of Companies "L" and "M." Before dark, Company "I" was sent forward to the road block to reinforce "M."

That night, General Turnage directed that the Japanese be cleared out of the area of the road block and in front of the 9th Marines to permit the further expansion of the perimeter. Since the 2nd Raider Regiment was most familiar with the area, the mission was passed to us and subsequently to the 3rd Battalion for execution. The plan of attack called for Beans’s Raiders, supported by a section each of tanks and half-tracks, to attack at 0800 on the ninth following a 30-minute artillery preparation by the 12th Marines. To replace Company "K," which was still on Puruata Island. Company "F" of the 2nd Raiders, having been least involved in the battle for the road block, was attached to the 3rd Raiders for the attack.

At 0620 on the ninth, the 3rd Raiders moved out of their bivouac area and headed up the Piva Trail, with Company "L" in the lead, followed by Company "F," the battalion headquarters group, and the supporting tanks and half-tracks. Upon arriving at the road block, Beans deployed Company "L" to the left of the trail behind "M" and Company "F" to the right of the trail behind "I" to await the completion of the artillery preparation which began at 0730.

Just before 0800, However, the Japanese opened up with a heavy volume of fire on the Raiders’ right flank and made several moves as if to attack. As a result of this spoiling action, when the attack jumped off at 0800. one platoon of Company "F" was already engaged and soon lost contact with the rest of the company, never effectively to regain it. In the meantime, as Company "L" and the two interior platoons of "F" passed through Companies "M" and "I" to begin the attack, they almost immediately came under heavy, short-range rifle and machine-gun fire from concealed Japanese positions.

The artillery barrage, which was brought down to within 250 yards of the road block, was very effective against the enemy‘s rear area troops, however, during the night Japanese infantry units had crept to within 25 yards of the Raiders’ lines and lay hidden and safe from the effects of our artillery. Apparently the enemy had planned an attack himself, but our artillery barrage disrupted his support elements and cut them off from the assault troops. Thus when the barrage lifted and our attack began, the would-be attackers found themselves under attack. The heavy volume of surprise fire from the enemy position, however, stalled our attack before it really got going, and it was several minutes before the Raiders were able to suppress the enemy fire and continue the advance.

Beans described the final results of this surprise encounter in the tactical conclusions of his after-action report:

Being pinned down at the RB [road block] at the time of the "jump off" [l] had an excellent opportunity to watch our superior fire power gradually take effect on the enemy fire power They opened up with all they had in the way of small arms. We replied with all we had (each rifle squad had 3 BARs and 7 M-1s). After twenty minutes of this the enemy couldn’t stand up under it and they withdrew.

By 0930, the two companies, under continuous heavy fire from rifles, light machine guns, and some knee mortars, had managed to advance only 40 or 50 yards beyond the road block. Maneuver to the right or left was out of the question because of the swamps on either flank, and soon the battle resolved itself into a slugging match, with the opponents supplementing their rifle and machine-gun fire by shouting invectives at one another. Gradually, however the fire-power supremacy of the Raiders made itself felt, and the enemy grudgingly gave ground.

Shortly after 1000 came a lull in the fighting, and aside from an occasional burst of fire, the front was relatively quiet. During the lull the battalion staff was busier than usual trying to determine what was delaying the advance, evaluating the situation, reorganizing, tending to the wounded, and preparing to resume the attack. These actions take time, and those units hit hardest take longest to get ready.

Sensing the battle noises, Beans had already determined that the area of heaviest resistance was in front of Company "F," which still was having trouble maintaining contact between its platoons. As a result of the enemy spoiling attack on the right flank, First Lieutenant John .A Sabini’s platoon had become separated from the rest of the company and still had not caught up. Although it had taken several casualties, this platoon had given the enemy full measure in return, and most of the Japanese killed in this initial engagement were found in its sector. Hoping to speed up the advance, Beans decided to replace Company "F" with "I" to give Lieutenant Dale a chance to reorganize his company and prepare to push on.

Attack in the Jungle, at its best, is painfully slow, and just to move, even without enemy resistance, requires a maximum effort. Mixed in with dense, leafy vegetation of every variety known to man, are the omnipresent vines, most of them thorny and strong. The so-called "wait-a-bit" thorn bush grows up to eight feet high and sends out streamers considerably longer. The strong lawyer and kanda vines grow up to 40 feet long and always twine around trees, other vines, or scrub growth, making it impossible for a man alone to pull one down. The only way through is to select carefully the placement of each step and hack a way through with a heavy knife. Fortunately, most of the Raiders carried heavy-bladed, 12-inch knives that served quite well in clearing trails. Being well aware of the difficulty of jungle movement, Beans patiently waited for the proper moment to push his companies on again.

At sea and on land, in camp and in battle, Shapley was a masterful leader with a facility for going directly to the substance of an issue. His orders were always clear and concise but left his subordinates plenty of leeway to exercise initiative. In this case he had ordered Beans to attack beyond the roadblock until there was no longer any resistance, then to patrol to his front to make certain that there were no Japanese close enough to attack the road block again during the night. Now he would demonstrate another desirable leadership talent: the ability to supervise closely without constraining his subordinates.

At 0930, Shapley, I, and Hammer and Lopez, our runners, headed up the muddy trail in pouring rain to Beans’s forward command post. When we arrived, small arms fire by both sides was at a peak, and Japanese bullets were smacking into tree-trunks and limbs, whistling through the vines, and popping through the leafy vegetation. Walking wounded slowly limped through the command post, painfully making their way toward a small clearing alongside the trail where Doctor Joseph Humbert, the battalion surgeon, had his aid station set up. There, under conditions no civilian doctor or medical school would ever have approved, life saving surgery was being performed on the seriously wounded.

For the moment the rain had stopped, the sun was shining, and steam was slowly rising from the jungle. Everybody in the command post was busy, and Beans was talking with one of his company commanders on the field telephone. Shapley could sense the right time to visit his subordinates’ command posts and knew before he arrived exactly what he was going for. Upon arrival he would ask pertinent questions, listen to the answers, give his instructions, and quickly depart. Now, he waited patiently until Beans finished his immediate business and had a less busy moment. When the battalion executive officer, Captain Arthur Haake, started over to get Colonel Beans, Colonel Shapley told him not to bother.

Soon Beans finished his telephone conversation and gave Shapley a quick run-down on what had happened and what was planned. It was hot, and he was sweating profusely, continually mopping his brow and arms and frequently sipping water from a canteen taken from a dead Japanese officer. As he explained how he intended to continue the attack, it was difficult to hear him above the battle noises, nevertheless, it was clear that he intended to roll up a flank, although not yet certain which one.

"He has to be kidding," I thought, "He gave Shapley that old school solution of rolling up a flank because he hasn’t the least idea what he’s going to do."

With the confusion that reigned at the time, most of us thought he would be lucky if he even found a flank in the next three or four hours. But that notwithstanding, he exuded a confidence that was contagious and seemed to flow where it was needed most. When Beans concluded his briefing, Colonel Shapley nodded in approbation and added only "Keep pushing while there is still daylight; if the advance slows down, let me know, promptly."

With that, we departed and slipped and sloshed our stay back toward our command post, stopping once to light a cigarette and watch a tank retriever pull a tank from a six-feet-deep mud hole. When the tank was free, we helped reload it with its stretcher cases, and it continued on its way. Then, as he watched the tank lumber off down the muddy trail, Shapley observed that a man could drown in the hole it had left and we ought to do something about it. On that cue, Hammer and Lopez quickly cut several lengths of lawyer vines, which we strung around the area of the hole, and Hammer printed a warning notice on an empty ration box and tied it to the makeshift fence. At least this temporary fix might save someone from drowning until we could get the engineers to do something better. With that we continued on to our command post, arriving about 1130.

The rain had started again, and as we huddled under the dripping canvas that was intended to keep our "command center" dry, drinking coffee and discussing what we had seen and heard during our visit to the 3rd Raiders, we could still hear firing in the direction of the road block. Although not quite as intense as it had been, there was still a lot of it, and I sensed that this was causing Shapley some concern. Having informed Beans that he did not want the fighting to linger on into the late afternoon, he now wanted to take steps to help him forestall that. Looking up from the map he had been studying, he abruptly asked me what I thought of the situation.

Having by now become accustomed to his abrupt manner, I had anticipated such a question and did not have to fumble for a response. "The shooting is so intense," I opined, "the fire fight surely will be over in the next hour or so. And while Colonel Beans might not roll up a flank as he said, he surely will roll up everything else on both sides of Piva Trail, if the Japs don’t pour in more troops." But I considered reinforcement to be highly unlikely, because all morning our artillery had been pounding feasible approach routes, and I could not imagine the enemy pushing more troops into the area through that.

My allusion to the possibility of Japanese reinforcements, however, prompted Shapley to send for Captain Jake Jacobson, his intelligence officer, and query him as to the enemy situation. Jake explained that there had been no recent change in the enemy order of battle, and the previously identified elements of two battalions of the Japanese 23rd Infantry, the equivalent of about one battalion, were still in the fight. But if parts of two battalions were present, Shapley reasoned, the rest of the regiment probably was close by. In light of this, he decided to send Company "K" directly to Beans after it arrived from Puruata Island that afternoon, instead of holding it in regimental reserve as he had planned.

Meanwhile at the road block, shortly after 1030, First Lieutenant William J Barnatt, commander of Company "I," reported the start of a Japanese movement against his right flank, and Beans committed his Weapons and Demolitions Platoon to counter this threat. The enemy move was soon defeated, and the advance continued, albeit slowly under heavy fire. At 1130 a platoon from Company ‘‘M" was committed to fill a gap that had developed between Companies "I" and "L," and the slow advance continued. By 1200, however, firing had slackened considerably, and by 1230 Japanese resistance had dissipated leaving only isolated pockets.

The Raiders’ advance now gained momentum, and by 1400 there was no enemy firing at all. By 1515 the attack had reached the Junction of the Piva and Numa Numa Trails, where, having met no resistance for over an hour, Beans halted the advance and ordered his Raiders to dig in for the night. Patrols sent into Piva Number 2 and up the Numa Numa trail reported no enemy contact, but a large abandoned enemy bivouac area was discovered about 300 yards up the trail. At 1720 a patrol from Company "L" reported seeing several Japanese retreating along the Numa Numa trail, however there was no further contact with the enemy during the night.

Japanese losses in the day-long battle were 103 confirmed killed and undoubtedly a large number of wounded who were carried from the field. Raider losses were 14 killed in action, one dead of wounds, 29 wounded, and one war dog dead of wounds.

The dead from the 2nd Raider Battalion were Privates, first class, Hugh W. Kellerman and Homer R Goehri of Company "F, "Private, first class, Robert W. Marko, also of Company "F," died of his wounds on November 12.

Losses from the 3rd Raider Battalion were: Private, first class, Benjamin D Ferguson of Company "I," Sergeant James F Coupe, Private, first class, Thomas F Matthews , and Privates Willie A Bibaeff, Donald J Gurney, and John M Larson of Company "L," and Corporal Forest R Swank and Privates, first class, Stanley Dierker, Henry Gurke (posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor), Eugene W. M. Pace, Harold "C" Reynolds, and William E. Rice, Jr. of Company "M".

Kuno, a Doberman pinscher scout dog, was criticaIly wounded by concussion and fragments from a mortar shell and was euthanized the following day. He was the first of our war dogs to die as a result of enemy action.

Elsewhere on Bougainville that same day, while the battle had raged on the Piva Trail and totally unnoted by the combatants, Lieutenant General Vandegrift transferred command of IMAC and Allied forces on Bougainville and in the Treasury Islands into the capable hands of Major General Roy S Geiger, a pioneer Marine aviator. General Vandegrift returned to the United States where, on January 1, 1944, he would be sworn in as the eighteenth Commandant of the Marine Corps.

Although we now had a rough idea of the size and identification of the Japanese forces opposing us, we no longer were certain of their location since they had broken contact and withdrawn to the north around noon. Hence, before operations to expand the perimeter could continue, it was essential to relocate the enemy or failing that to determine where he was not.

Consequently, the 2nd Raider Regiment received orders from 3rd Division headquarters late in the afternoon to send a night patrol up the Numa Numa trail to Piva Village No 1 to look for the Japanese. The mission was assigned to the 3rd Raider Battalion and lieutenant Colonel Beans, in turn passed it to Captain Page’s Company "K" for execution.

Company "K" was an excellent choice to execute this patrol. It had conducted itself in an exemplary manner in its baptism of fire on Puruata Island and was now well rested. Although Captain Page had been painfully wounded on D-Day by grenade fragments in his left arm and chest and was still taped and patched up, he had never relinquished command of his company and was now fully ready to go. There were, of course, several other Raiders who had been wounded and remained on duty, but only Company "K" was commanded by one of these walking wounded---a leader who inspired his men with a determination to succeed against all odds.

As a rule, Shapley frowned on members of his staff interfering in the details of battalion operations, however, as events unfolded in the case of the Company "K" patrol, I felt duty -bound to offer my advice. Some time after assigning the patrol mission to the 3rd Battalion, we learned that on the following morning the 2nd Battalion, 9th Marines, would pass through the 3rd Raiders’ lines and attack up the Numa Numa Trail toward Piva Village No 1; that is, in the area of the K Company patrol. Knowing full well the confusion often attendant at a passage of lines and fearing for the safety of our patrol should it return before daylights I decided to risk Shapley’s anger and phone Captain Martin Levit, the 3rd Battalion operations officer, to suggest that the patrol’s departure be timed so as to ensure its return only after daylight.

When I called, the patrol already had been briefed for its mission and even then was assembling on the trail behind the 3rd Raider Battalion lines, preparing to move out. Before it departed, however, Captain Levit managed to get authority to hold it up until first light, evoking no doubt much grumbling about "hurry up and wait" among the troops. As it turned out the delay only postponed one potential danger while creating another in a classic example of "too many cooks spoil the broth.

Ordinarily the coordination of the fire of supporting arms with the movement of patrols was routinely accomplished by the unit having local operational responsibility --in this case, the 9th Marines to which we had been attached for the past few days. Orders for the patrol, however, had come to us directly from division headquarters and, as it turned out, the 9th Marines knew nothing about it. Furthermore, we were to revert to division control on the following day, and the 9th Marines, not knowing of the patrol, would have seen no need to coordinate with us anything other than the passage of lines, least of all their plan of supporting fires. Thus, the stage had been set for a potential killed-by -friendly -fire tragedy of major proportions.

Shortly before dawn on the tenth, Company "K" passed through the 3rd Raiders’ front lines and headed up the Numa Numa trail toward Piva Village No I. Three hours passed without one word from the patrol, and I began to worry about its safety—not from the Japanese but from our own operations. Finally at 0830, when there was still no word, I decided to call division headquarters to check on plans for that particular area. To my great surprise, I learned that a 15-minute artillery preparation and a five-minute air strike in the area of the patrol’s return route was scheduled to begin at 0900. The staff officer with whom I spoke was as surprised to hear about the patrol as I had been to hear about the fine mission, but he acted immediately to delay the preparatory fires until the patrol returned.

. A few minutes after 0900, the patrol returned to our lines to report that it had thoroughly reconnoitered both sides of the Numa Numa Trail as far as Piva Village without making contact with the enemy. First Sergeant Jerry Beau, appointed to command of the 3rd Platoon after Lieutenant O’Brien was wounded and evacuated. provides a first-hand description of the patrol.

… we passed through the front line and moved up the trail. It was almost a different world as we continued…. We were getting onto higher dry solid ground. The vegetation changed from swamp with its heavy underbrush and banyan trees to smaller scrub trees. As we progressed, the underbrush thinned and in some areas visibility opened to several hundred feet on each side of the trail.

[T]he 3rd Platoon…covered the company rear. We found a number of dead Japs along the trail and off some distance to either side of it. I had the men check each one and pick up their diaries, personal documents, anything else of.probable value to intelligence. We found small quantities of their …[field] equipment, a few hand grenades, knee mortar rounds, but no weapons. Also found were about 50 rounds of …ammo for their battalion 70mm howitzer. These were found in tied bundles of three rounds, scattered on and to the sides of the trail. After we had gathered several bundles, I would stack them and destroy them with TNT.

The patrol report notwithstanding, at 0930 the delayed artillery preparation began, and at 0945 12 bombers from Marine Torpedo Bomber Squadron 143 began their runs. As the last of the bombers finished its strafing run on the unresisting Jungle, the 2nd Battalion, 9th Marines, followed by the 1st Battalion (Lieutenant Colonel Jaime Sabater), moved through the 3rd Raiders’ lines and headed up the Numa Numa Trail. Not surprisingly, the "attack" turned out to be a bird walk, and shortly after 1100 the 2nd Battalion occupied Piva Village and dug in there. The 1st Battalion moved up the Numa Numa trail another 200 yards or so and dug in astride the trail, thus ending the four-day battle.