Red Mike’s Raiders embarked at 1800 on September 7 at Kukum on APDs McKean and Manley and two converted California tuna boats, YP 346 and YP 289 ("Yippies"). The Yippies performed utility work in and around the harbor and at Kukum landing, but this was the first time they had been called upon to participate in an amphibious operation. (On the following night, September 8, YP 346 commanded by Captain Joaquin S. Theodore, was anchored in Tulagi harbor when the Tokyo Express made an unexpected call. During the shelling, the Yippie was hit and set on fire; however, Captain Theodore ran his boat onto the nearby beach and later salvaged it.)

Major Nickerson’s Company "B," a reinforcing machine gun platoon from Company "E," and Colonel Edson and his command group embarked on the McKean. Aboard the two APD’s were Company "A," now commanded by Captain John W. Antonelli, a reinforcing machine gun platoon from Company "E," and Edson’s alternate command group under Lieutenant Colonel Sam Griffith. Griffith would accompany Company "A" during the operation. Company "C," under the temporary command of Captain Robert H. Thomas, the company executive officer, embarked aboard the Manly. Both APDs were carrying more than their normal load of troops because the objective area was only 18 miles east of the defensive perimeter, and the Raiders would be landing in just a few hours. Those few hours, however, were tense, and as the troops prepared themselves and their weapons and equipment for the raid, the memory of the loss of the Gregory and Little only three nights before was fresh in everyone’s mind.

After embarking the troops, the unlikely convoy crossed Sealark Channel in a tight formation and, holding close to the shore of Florida Island to avoid a possible encounter with the nightly run of the Tokyo Express, sailed to a position opposite Taivu Point turned, and made its approach to the transport unloading area about 1000 yards offshore. Every effort was made to preserve the element of surprise in the ship-to-shore movement, and the landing craft approached the beach at greatly reduced speed to lessen the noise from their exhaust. The scheme of maneuver was simple. Company "B", landing in two waves on the right flank, would turn right and attack along the beach toward Tasimboko village. Company "A," followed by Edson and his command group, would land on the left; and await the arrival of Company "C" in the second trip of boats, then, accompanied by Griffith and the alternate command group, would move inland on trails identified by native scouts, wheel right, and attack the village in a pincers movement together with Company "B." Company "C," was the battalion reserve.

The assault waves landed in hard dark at 0520 about one-half mile west of Taivu Point and found a surprise waiting for them on the beach. There, neatly lined up in three or four rows just above the high tide line, were hundreds of Japanese soldiers’ marching packs. Each pack had a field bedding roll attached and was filled with emergency rations, toilet articles, and the usual personal items that all soldiers carry with them. There was no sign of their owners, and the Raiders could only guess that they had arrived earlier in the night on the Tokyo Express and were somewhere in the vicinity, but where?

It has been suggested, and it seems plausible, that the coincidental passage of two transports and two destroyers in plain view of the Japanese while the landing was in progress and the simultaneous bombing and strafing of the objective area by planes from Henderson Field led the commander of the Japanese rear echelon to conclude that he was being attacked by a much larger force and, to avoid destruction, fled with most of his men into the jungle along the track taken by the main body, leaving behind only a small covering force. Whatever the explanation, it was indeed fortunate for the Raiders that there was not present a Japanese soldier for each pack found on the beach.

The Raiders landed without resistance and quickly moved across the narrow beach to the coastal trail; there Company "B" turned right and moved along the trail toward Tasimboko. The 1st Platoon, now commanded by Captain John B. Sweeney, was on the right with the squad led by Corporal Benjamin C. Howland, Jr., in the lead. Captain Rex Crockett’s 2d Platoon was echeloned to the left to provide flank security. Company "A" with Griffith and the alternate command group began its trek into the interior, after Company "C" landed in the turn-around trip of the landing craft.

As the Cactus air force dive-bombed and strafed Tasimboko, Company "B" continued its advance along the coastal trail. After negotiating an unmapped marshy area and crossing a small stream that flowed into the ocean, Sweeney’s platoon came to a partially cleared area where they captured a 77mm field gun with ammunition stacked nearby. Just as the platoon moved out of the clearing to continue its advance along the trail, it spotted a second 77mm field piece, this one with a crew, about 100 yards from the edge of the clearing on the windward side of the trail.

Three nearby Japanese soldiers dashed frantically to the gun, depressed its muzzle, aimed directly at the advancing Raiders, and commenced firing. The first two or three rounds screamed over the heads of the 1st platoon, whose members had taken such cover as was to be found, and burst with tremendous roars in the tree tops to the rear, in the vicinity of the Company "B" and battalion command posts. The next round burst in the jungle canopy directly over the 2d Platoon, spraying steel fragments that smashed the left arm of squad leader Corporal Maurice H. Pion, killed Corporal William D. Carney, and shattered a tree branch that fell on and seriously injured Private, first class, Kenneth E. Brubaker. Although the Raiders had immediately opened fire on the gun and its crew, there were no discernible results until Private Andrew J. Klejnot took careful aim and, squeezing off his shots as he had been trained, killed two of the crew and forced the third to flee into the jungle, thereby silencing the gun.

Once again, the Raiders had cause to be thankful for the presence of their Navy hospital corpsmen. Pharmacist’s Mate, second class, Karl B. Coleman and Pharmacist’s Mate, third class, Alfred W. Cleveland sprang into action to treat the casualties. It was immediately obvious that Corporal Carney was dead, but working together, the corpsmen amputated Pion’s shattered arm at the shoulder, pieced the stump together, applied a field dressing to the wound, and sent him off to the battalion aid station. They then turned to the injured Brubaker and saved him also.

In the meantime, at about 1100 the McKean and Manley returned from Kukum, bringing with them the rest of Company "E" and the 1st Parachute Battalion. The latter unit, its strength depleted to about 200 Marines, was deployed to provide flank and rear security as the Raiders continued the advance toward Tasimboko. With this additional help, Edson ordered both Companies "A" and "B" to press the attack. Red Mike was growing impatient.

With the field gun silenced, Sweeney signaled for the advance to continue. After covering only a few yards, however, the scouts from Howland’s squad were pinned down by surprise fire from a machine gun at the edge of the jungle nearly opposite the field piece. Sweeney crawled forward to Howland and signaled him to attack the machine gun position on its right (inland) flank then, using several banyan trees for cover, crawled farther along the inland edge of the trail and began shouting in Japanese, "Ba-ka! Ba-ka!’’, a taunt or expression of contempt (literally, "you fool"). Each time Sweenev shouted. the machine gun would fire a burst in the general direction of his voice.

As this shouting and shooting match continued, Major Robert S. Brown. the battalion operations officer, crawled up to the rear of Sweeney’s position and demanded to know "What the hell’s going on? Why aren’t you moving?"

Several more shouts of "Ba-ka!" answered by short bursts from the enemy machine gun quickly gave Brown the picture, and he crawled away, satisfied.

Meanwhile, as Sweeney held the attention of the gun crew, Corporal Howland, Private, first class, Harold W. Smith, and Private John S. Van Ness maneuvered through the jungle to out-flank the enemy position and killed the three Japanese manning the gun. This ended the opposition in its zone, and Company "B" quickly covered the few hundred yards to the village. Scouts from Sweeney’s platoon entered the village about noon as leading elements of Company "A" closed in from the jungle to the south. A few Japanese soldiers attempted to defend their positions and were quickly dispatched; others were seen fleeing along the trail leading to the west, probably to report to General Kawaguchi that his artillery had been lost and his supply base destroyed.

Besides the field guns, the Raiders captured a large radio set and significant amounts of equipment and supplies, including medicines, all stacked up ready to be moved to the Kawaguchi Brigade as needed. The captured guns were rolled to the beach and dragged out to deep water by the Higgins boats. Other supplies, except food, were burned, blown up, or otherwise spoiled. The rations were loaded aboard the transports and moved to the Lunga perimeter as welcome supplements to our own short stocks.

Contrary to popular belief, the Japanese soldier did not subsist on a daily ration of a handful of rice and a few dried fish. Although he could, and often did, get along on very little, as a rule his diet included good canned fish and beef, plenty of canned vegetables, and a chalky tasting hard candy that was supposed to be loaded with vitamins. In addition, the rations included Japanese beer and sake, not a few cases of which found their way aboard the transports, the Navy proscription on alcoholic beverages aboard its ships notwithstanding.

All told, the Tasimboko raid was one of the most successful ever conducted by Marines. At the cost of six wounded and two killed (Corporal Carney and Private Seraphine B. Smith, both of Company "B"), the Raiders had killed 27 Japanese and destroyed the supply base of a major enemy strike force. The Kawaguchi Brigade was now without supplies except such as the soldiers carried on their backs, and some were even without those. There was no way this large force could live off the land, and its survival depended on its capturing the airfield quickly. But time was now opposing Kawaguchi, and with but a single bolt for his bow, the balance of power had shifted ever so slightly from him toward the Americans. Given their success at Tasimboko, the morale of the 1st Raiders was soaring, and they could now sense the pendulum beginning to swing in their favor.

General Vandegrift and his staff knew that Kawaguchi would have to attack soon and with the very best he had in his bag of tricks if he were to have even the slightest chance of success. In anticipation of the Japanese attack, Vandegrift moved his command post to a position south of Henderson Field, nearer to where he anticipated the major action would be, and repositioned some of his interior units. To the east of but near his new command post, he positioned the 1st Engineer Battalion; to the west, the 1st Pioneer Battalion, still farther west across the Lunga River, the 1st Amphibian Tractor Battalion; and immediately south of his command post the 1st Raider Battalion with the 1st Parachute Battalion attached.

Although the Raiders and Parachutists were light infantry units, their staying power was increased significantly by the support of the Marine air now available on Henderson Field and of the artillery and other supporting arms of the 1st Marine Division. Beyond this, they would make up for their lack of armament with sheer guts and strong leadership. Fully aware of their capabilities, Vandegrift had assigned them to defend a key position in his line.

The Raiders broke camp in the coconut grove west of the Lunga River on September 10 and hiked to their new position south of the airfield, euphemistically called a "rest area" by Edson. Each Raider, officer and enlisted, carried his "home" and personal belongings on his back in the ever-handy marching pack; heavier equipment such as the field ranges for the galley, the equipment for the aid station, and the few tents necessary to shelter these facilities were transported on trucks. Departure was delayed because of the daily air raid at about 1100, but by mid-afternoon the companies had occupied their assigned bivouac areas and had begun to dig in to meet the attack which all anticipated, "rest area" notwithstanding.

The position occupied by Edson’s force was a low grassy ridge that began about a mile south of Henderson Field and extended to the southeast for about 1,500 yards. Looking not unlike a huge crocodile that had crawled out of the Lunga River and now crouched in the jungle, waiting for its prey, this nameless ridge was a direct avenue of approach into the very heart of the Marines’ defensive position and the key to Henderson Field. Here over the next few days would be fought the decisive land battle of the Guadalcanal campaign; a battle that would see the destruction of some of Japan’s finest soldiers by some of America’s finest; a battle that would see the now nameless ridge dubbed in honor of the victor; Edson’s Ridge.

The predominant feature of this saurian-like piece of real estate was a hillock (Hill #2) rising between the crocodile’s shoulders. Overlooking the airfield and Vandegrift’s newly occupied command post and dominating the rest of the ridge to the south as well as the surrounding jungle, this hill was the key terrain feature in the area and consequently the initial objective of Kawaguchi’s attack. About 500 yards to the southeast, in what would be the orbital area of a crocodile, rose a second hillock (Hill #1). From here, the ridge, still conforming to the crocodile analog, tapered to a point and sloped off sharply into the dense jungle on all sides. Jutting off from the sides of the main ridge, analogous to crocodile legs (or bulges of undigested prey), were several distinct noses or small ridges that tended to compartmentalize the local terrain in favor of the defenders.

Two other features of the area were to figure prominently in the coming battle:

First, the narrow dirt road that began near the airfield and ran along the crest of the ridge to the vicinity of Hill #2. From there, Raider patrols and local foot traffic extended it as a trail farther along the ridge to Hill #1. Being easily identifiable, this track served as the boundary between the Raiders and Parachutists and was to be a convenient marker for those who became disoriented and separated from their units in the heat of battle.

Second, to the west of and parallel to the ridge about 150 yards inside the tree line opposite Hill #1 was a deep lagoon or slough. This body of water, about 60 feet wide and several hundred feet long, broke the continuity of the Raiders’ defensive line, and would facilitate the enemy attack in that area.

From General Kawaguchi’s perspective this ridge must have seemed not so much a lurking crocodile as a super highway offering him easy access to Henderson Field, the grand prize he sought. First, however, it would be necessary to take care of a few minor details such as the handful of Americans who were even now preparing to defend this area. But that should be no great problem for the 4,000 "righteous bayonets" in his brigade, and soon the Imperial Army would have the pleasure of embarrassing the Navy by returning to its original owners the now completed airfield.

Edson disposed his forces with Company "C" on the extreme right of the Raider line, its right flank anchored on the Lunga River and its left at the edge of the lagoon. However, a swamp weakened the company position by splitting it into what amounted to platoon strong points, each of which had an exposed flank. Backing up Company "C." also with its right flank on the river, was Company "A," and Company "B" was positioned on the southernmost tip of the ridge with its right flank at the edge of the jungle and its left flank extending around Hill 100.

Occupying positions around Hill #2 near the battalion command post was the battalion reserve, made up of Headquarters Company, Company "E" (minus its machine gun platoons which were attached to the infantry companies), and the remnants of Company D)." Since coming to Guadalcanal, the personnel strength of Company "D" had dropped to only about 30 Raiders, the others having been reassigned to the other companies as replacements.

The 1st Parachute Battalion, now down to about 200 men, occupied the left third of the line, its position extending from the left flank of Raider Company "B" near Hill #1, northeast along a spur of the ridge, then several hundred yards on into the jungle. Edson screened his exposed left flank with patrols, and also sent several reconnaissance patrols into the jungle to the south and along the Lunga River—however, they made no contact that first day.

Among the supplies and equipment brought in by truck were several loads of barbed wire and concertina, and many of the men were put to work erecting protective wire barriers, while the others continued to prepare positions for themselves and their supporting machine guns. Under the scorching tropical sun, the Raiders dug in, most half-sick, a few half-well, all soaking wet from perspiration, and cursing the Japanese with every shovel of dirt.

As they toiled and sweated in the heat and humidity, there was the usual grumbling and complaining; after all, this was supposed to be a "rest area", wasn’t it? Red Mike was assailed, out of earshot of officers, for being a glory hound and for always hanging out at the division command post looking for tough jobs for his Raiders. Morbid humor, commonplace among troops in combat, was plentiful among the Raiders, and much of it was directed at their commander (behind his back), "Mad Merritt, the Morgue Master" being one of the more derisive epithets; others, albeit unprintable, were not so alliterative, but just as colorful and imaginative.

Soon two galleys were operating, one for Companies "A" and "C" and one for the other companies. Later in the afternoon, a most welcome hot meal gave a noticeable boost to the spirits of everyone, and as the several reconnaissance patrols that had been sent into the jungle to look for the enemy began returning without having made contact, some even began to hope that maybe this was to be a rest area after all. Well before sunset the listening posts were manned, the watch set all along line, and everyone settled down for the night. The only interruption, except for the usual jungle noises, came when the Tokyo Express arrived on its nightly visit and shelled the airfield and the beach defenses.

This relative calm ended abruptly around noon the following day when the air raid alarm sounded throughout the perimeter. Forewarned by the intrepid coastwatchers, our fighters, the stubby F4F Wildcats of the Cactus Air Force, began their grinding ascent to 30,000 feet to await the arrival of the attackers. This time, however, the enemy bombers ignored the airfield and dropped a string of bombs along the main axis of the ridge. There were hits in the bivouac areas and among Marines constructing defensive positions along the main ridge, and several bombs fell in and around Vandegrift’s newly occupied command post. The bombing killed two Marines, wounded seven, and stunned many of the Raiders and Parachutists. Now, everyone was painfully aware that their newly occupied area had the direct attention of the Rabaul-based Japanese command and was, indeed, no "rest area."

Later in the day our patrols brought back disturbing reports of considerable enemy activity, and Martin Clemens’s native scouts provided even more definitive information. These brave, loyal irregulars had gained considerable credibility after Tasimboko where their reports of Japanese strength and activity had proved to be generally accurate. Now they were reporting that large, organized groups of Japanese, estimated to total 3,000 to 4,000 men, were to the east and south of the perimeter, cutting trails through the rain forest safely hidden from aerial observation.

Early that morning, Edson led a small patrol down the ridge and into the jungle to the south. There they encountered Japanese patrols and observed signs of enough enemy activity to convince Red Mike that a sizeable enemy force was nearby. Now with the information provided by his patrols and that from the native scouts, he felt reasonably certain that his troops were about to renew their acquaintance with the Kawaguchi Brigade whose supply base they had destroyed in the Tasimboko raid. Edson decided to beat Kawaguchi to the punch and launch a preemptive attack early on the following day (September 12) to disorganize his force and throw him off balance.

In the meantime, all hands worked feverishly to improve their defensive positions, erecting double-apron barbed wire barriers in all open areas along the main ridge. In the jungle they strung and interlaced strands of barbed wire between trees and cut fields of fire for the machine guns in the undergrowth in front of the Company "C" position. Actively supervising the work in this area was Major Ken Bailey who only that morning had returned from New Caledonia where he had been hospitalized for wounds received on Tulagi. He looked pale and drawn, and later it was learned that he had absented himself from the hospital without leave, hitched a plane ride to Espiritu Santo, then another on to Guadalcanal.

Bailey’s return would have been occasion for rejoicing under any circumstances, but he was greeted with especial enthusiasm when it was learned that he had been thoughtful enough to round up the bags of mail that had piled up in Noumea since the Raiders left New Caledonia at the end of July. This first mail call since arriving in the Solomons was a great morale booster; however, its effect was soon dampened—first by an air raid and then by the sobering reports of enemy activity to the south coming from our patrols and the native scouts.

At 1100 on the twelfth, while most of Edson’s men were digging foxholes and stringing barbed wire, 42 Japanese planes attacked Henderson Field. Marine fighter aircraft, recently augmented by 24 F4Fs from the damaged Saratoga, shot down 12 bombers and three fighters; nevertheless, some bombers still managed to get through, and one stick of bombs fell along the north-south axis of the ridge. Several Raiders were wounded, but the bombs caused little material damage and may even have done some good by encouraging everyone to dig like hell for a few minutes. This adrenaline high. however, was soon followed by deep depression as the Raiders again began to wonder who really controlled the air. Without knowing that the raid had cost the enemy 15 planes and already on the verge of exhaustion from weeks of fighting and the debilitating effects of short rations, malaria, jungle rot, and gut-wrenching gastroenteritis, they resignedly resumed their digging. preparing for the attack they now knew would be coming soon.

Near the end of the day, Edson gathered his company commanders and staff in conference to discuss his plan for the preemptive attack the next day. Leaving only a skeleton force on the defensive position, he planned to move south parallel to the Lunga River with the rest of the battalion, Company "A" in the lead, and attack the enemy wherever he might be found. The conference broke up at about 2100, and as the company commanders were returning to their units, an enemy plane flew over and dropped a flare over the airfield, signaling the beginning of a bombardment by a Japanese cruiser and three destroyers. Although their target was the airfield, the cruiser illuminated the ridge with its searchlight, leading one Marine to remark, "It was so bright that I felt the ship’s skipper could see me moving on the ridge. I felt naked."

Several rounds went well beyond the airfield to land in the new division command post area, causing little damage but considerable concern among some guests of General Vandegrift. Late that afternoon Rear Admiral Turner, Commander of the Amphibious Force, South Pacific, and under the command relationships then existing, Vandegrift’s commander, had arrived from New Caledonia. He and several of his staff had come to see for themselves the situation in the precariously held perimeter. After spending much of the night in foxholes and bomb shelters, they left the following day with a new appreciation of the problems facing Vandegrift; one that could not be conveyed in the telegraphic format of messages and dispatches.

Shortly before 2200, Japanese troops to the south of the Raider line fired a flare to signal the ships to cease fire and their readiness to attack. As the last light from the flare flickered out, the Raiders began to hear the normal jungle noises replaced by sounds of human movement as the enemy soldiers began making their way through the undergrowth in front of Company "C." Later, those who were on the front lines said the Japanese scouts appeared to have blundered into the fire lanes cut by the Raiders and, taking them for trails, led their units into a deathtrap. As the enemy soldiers bunched up while cutting through the barbed wire, they offered the machine gunners a dream target, and their initial bursts piled the Japanese up in windrows along the barbed wire.

As enemy officers attempted to bring a semblance of order to the screaming, shouting mob of survivors, the Raiders followed up their early advantage by tossing hand grenades and opening fire from their foxholes. Soon, however, the enemy began to respond with their own grenades and an increasing volume of fire from their Nambu machine guns, and a vicious firefight soon ensued. Under the pressure of repeated banzai charges and the threat of encirclement by groups of enemy soldiers infiltrating through gaps in the line, Lieutenant Salmon’s platoon on the left flank of Company "C" fell back. Later, the right flank platoon was forced back from its position on the Lunga River by a frontal assault, and several Raiders were cut off. They made their way to safety, however, along the river bank under the overhanging rainforest canopy.

As the enemy pressed his attack, a machine gun section from Company "E" and several riflemen from Company "C" were also cut off; however, Platoon Sergeant Lawrence A. Harrison, the machine gun section leader, rallied the Raiders, and under his skillful leadership they held off the enemy attack until just before dawn. Then Harrison gathered his wounded and, constantly under heavy fire, led his group through a gap in the enemy line to the safety of the reserve defensive line farther to the rear. For his extraordinary heroism and exemplary leadership against overwhelming odds, Platoon Sergeant Harrison was awarded the Navy Cross.

Private John W. Mielke. another Company "F" machine gunner, kept his gun in action throughout the entire engagement, repeatedly driving off the enemy soldiers as they surrounded his position and providing covering fire for the withdrawal of the Raiders to the reserve line. For his heroism and devotion to duty. Private Mielke was awarded the Navy Cross.

Although the Japanese succeeded in forcing Company "C" to withdraw, they failed to exploit their success and, appearing to be confused and disorganized in the jungle, dug in to hold what they had gained. Throughout the night sporadic rifle and machine gun fire and grenade explosions marked the attempts of isolated Raiders to make their way through the enemy lines. Around midnight, Lieutenant Salmon managed to make his way out of the jungle and crawled to Sweeney’s foxhole on the Company "B" front line. Visibly shaken, discouraged, and concerned for his missing Raiders, he related what had happened in his sector of the line, then was sent on to the Company "B" command post.

During all of the action in the low-lying jungle between the ridge and the Lunga River, the Company "B" forward units, Sweeney’s 1st Platoon and Crockett’s 2d Platoon, held their positions. It was an eerie and exhausting experience to hear the battle raging in the darkness to the right and to expect at any moment to see hordes of Japanese come charging out of the jungle to the front and onto the position. Throughout the tense and sleepless night, Sweeney’s Raiders were alert and on edge, but they fired not a single shot. Nevertheless, at dawn they were thankful to have been spared the ordeal experienced by their buddies in Company "C."

At daybreak on the thirteenth, Colonel Edson launched a counterattack in an attempt to restore the Company "C" position. With Company "A" attacking along the Lunga River and the understrength Company "D" striking the shoulder of the Japanese salient, he hoped to drive back the enemy and eliminate the bulge in his line. However, he found the enemy to be too strongly emplaced to be dislodged and soon called off the attack. Having reassessed the situation, Edson decided to contract his lines and pull back to a stronger position just forward of Hill #2.

Early in the afternoon, he pulled his exhausted units back to the north, keeping Company "A" on the right with its right flank on the Lunga River: then newly assigned Company "D, 1st Engineer Battalion; then Raider Company "B," thinly stretched across the ridge between the Engineers and the 1^st Parachute Battalion on the exposed left flank. Company "C" was pulled back into a reserve position around the crest of Hill #2.

As these moves were in progress, Edson had a visitor from Vandegrift’s staff, Lieutenant Colonel Merrill Twining, Assistant D-3 (Division Operations). Twining had been sent to assess the situation which he later described as ". . . a bad scene. The officers and men were utterly fatigued, mentally as well as physically. Edson was obviously exhausted. ..." Reporting back to his boss, Colonel Gerald C. Thomas, the Division Operations Officer (D-3), Twining strongly recommended that the division reserve, the 2d Battalion, 5th Marines, be moved forward immediately to relieve the exhausted 1st Raiders. Thomas concurred, and the necessary orders were issued; however, because of delay resulting from heavy air attacks on Henderson Field and the surrounding area, the reserve battalion did not arrive at the ridge until near dusk, and it was decided to postpone the relief until the next day.

As Edson continued with the repositioning of his companies, he also had to replace one of his company commanders and named Captain Sweeney as the new Company "B" commander "as of now." Both the former commander, Major Nickerson, and the executive officer, Captain Monville, had been evacuated that morning, the former suffering from bleeding ulcers and the latter from sunstroke. Moreover, the commander of the 2d Platoon, Captain Crockett, had been hospitalized with severe dysentery, and his platoon was taken over by Gunnery Sergeant Clinton F. Haines.

Edson’s orders to Sweeney were brief and to the point: to occupy and hold a position between the Engineers on the right and a small ridge about 150 yards forward of Hill #2 on the left. Between Company "B" and Hill #2 lay a deep grassy ravine that sloped off to the west into the jungle where the Raiders had bivouacked a few days before. To save time Major Brown, the battalion operations officer. led Haines’s 2d Platoon to its position on the extreme right flank adjacent to the Engineers. Sweeney positioned the understrength 3d Platoon (fewer than 20 men) and a section of machine guns on the small ridge on the left of his position and the 1st Platoon and a section of machine guns about 200 yards west of the ridge near the northern tip of the lagoon and astride a trail running generally parallel to the ridge.

Command of the 1st Platoon had passed to Platoon Sergeant Robert Aneilski when Captain Sweeney took over the company, and now, as he positioned his former unit, Sweeney felt depressed because he realized, as did they, the precarious situation these Raiders were in: no protective wire, little time in which to prepare adequate fortifications, and no telephone communications with the company command post; only the unreliable walkie-talkie radio. Each man on the line had sufficient ammunition for his rifle or BAR, but only one or two hand grenades —the Marine’s personal artillery— indispensable and usually very effective in the closeness of jungle combat. Furthermore, since all three platoons were deployed on the line, there was no company reserve to reinforce a threatened sector.

To the immediate left of Company "B," with the footpath marking the boundary between the two units, was a rifle platoon from Company "B," 1st Parachute Battalion, commanded by Marine Gunner Manning. Later that night as unit leaders tried to reassemble and reorganize their men, the identical company designations would cause no little confusion.

After positioning the 1st Platoon, Sweeney returned to where the 3d Platoon (three squads totaling about 21 Raiders) was digging in on the forward slope of a spur leading off the main ridge and set up his own command post, such as it was. His "command group" included First Sergeant Brice Maddox, Corporal John H. Gann, Jr., and a messenger, a young private who had recently joined the company as a replacement.

Field telephone lines still had not been laid from the battalion command post, and the only communication was by walkie-talkie. As it turned out, the telephone lines were never laid, but fortunately the small portable radio worked fairly well in the open terrain, especially when Edson was operating from Hill #2, as he and his communication team were to do during most of the coming night. This was most fortuitous when the ability to call for artillery fire was all that stood between the Raiders and almost certain destruction.

The width of the front occupied by Edson’s combined force was extensive

—well over 1,000 yards with most of it in thick jungle—and there were gaps between company positions as well as gaps between platoon positions. A linear defense being out of the question, the defenders established what were, in effect, platoon strong points reinforced with attached machine guns. There was no barbed wire available for building protective barriers around these strong points, it all having been used in the previous position, but even if there had been truck loads, there would have been no time to string it. When the battle finally was joined, it would be essentially a man-to-man, hand-to-hand engagement in which only the most resolute would prevail.

At about 1730 Colonel Edson and Corporal Walter J. Burak, his ever-present runner, again arrived on Sweeney’s position. Red Mike’s face was grim, and after silently scanning the ridge and jungle to the south through his binoculars he turned to Captain Sweeney and quietly and simply said, "John, this is it. We are the only ones between the Japs and the airfield. You must hold this ground." Then he and Burak departed.

As Edson and Burak headed for the reserve position on Hill #2, two Japanese float-planes, probably from nearby cruisers, flew over the airfield at low altitude and shot down a Dauntless dive bomber that was preparing to land. This was the last of three enemy air attacks during the day, the others having come at 0950 and 1300. Enemy losses in these actions were 11 planes: however. they shot down five of ours, killing five crewmen and wounding two. Again, the most notable effect of these raids was to motivate the Raiders to dig deeper.

The anticipated Japanese attack came shortly after dark in the flat jungle area between the ridge and the river. In a sudden and mass rush, Kawaguchi’s soldiers drove through the gap between the Engineers and Company "B," hitting Gunnery Sergeant Haines’s 2d Platoon hard and driving it back to Hill #2. That the enemy was unable to capitalize on this penetration was due in no small measure to the determination, resourcefulness, and courage displayed by individual Raiders as they fought their way through the enemy encirclement. Typical of these individual experiences was that of Corporal Joseph J. Sweeda, leader of the 1st Squad in Gunnery Sergeant Haines’ 2nd Platoon.

After arriving on their position late in the afternoon, Sweeda and his squad, Privates Walter J. Grudzinkas, John B. Holmes, Irwin H. Reynolds (reassigned from Company "D" two days before Tasimboko), Walter I. Romanini, Henry J. Santosuosso, and Robert G. Schneider, were digging their foxholes when they were startled by movement in the underbrush to their front. Quickly exchanging their entrenching tools for weapons, they waited to see what would emerge from the jungle, and as Sweeda later described it, "Of all people—it was Colonel Edson returning from a reconnaissance to the south." He was followed by Corporal Burak. Lingering only long enough to take a quick look at the position and to tell Gunnery Sergeant Haines to hold, Edson continued on toward the Company "B" command post on the ridge.

As the tropical night fell with the finality of a stage curtain and darkness enveloped his position, Sweeda recalls that "the jungle seemed to come alive in front of us. We could hear the jabbering of Japs and movements in the brush." Suddenly the enemy threw hand grenades into their position from the right flank; Schneider was hit and began to bleed badly. After exchanging rifle and machine gun fire with the enemy and exhausting their meager supply of hand grenades. Sweeda pulled in his squad and led them to a trail to their rear. (It had been cut earlier when the Raiders had first occupied the "rest area" to connect Hill #2 with Company "A" on the river.)

As Sweeda was trying to orient himself and determine the direction to Hill #2, he was joined by Corporal Alfred V. Camlin and his 2d Squad, and they all moved out together. As the group moved cautiously along the trail, they suddenly ran into more Japanese, and after a brief fire fight, Sweeda led the group of Raiders through the jungle in what he thought was the direction of Hill #2. He was correct, and they soon came to the edge of the jungle where they were challenged by Company "C" Raiders in the reserve position on the forward slope of the hill. They responded with the password and were directed on up the hill to the company command post where Major Bailey ordered both squad leaders to place their men along the forward slope.

As the rest of Sweeda’s squad took positions alongside the Company "C" Raiders, Private Schneider made his way to the aid station to get his wounds treated. Although the Japanese grenade had peppered him with tiny fragments, none of the punctures was life threatening or disabling, and after a thorough swabbing with Merthiolate and the application of a few Band-Aids he was pronounced fit for duty and sent on his way.

As he headed back to the line, he could hear repeated shouts from the machine gun and mortar positions for more ammunition and there on the spot took action to provide it. On his own initiative, he organized a party of ammunition carriers and for the remainder of the night led them in carrying ammunition to the machine guns and mortars. Constantly under enemy fire, Schneider kept our weapons supplied with ammunition during the height of the attack and thereby contributed immeasurably to the repulse of repeated enemy assaults. For his "indomitable fighting spirit and fearless devotion to duty," Schneider was awarded the Navy Cross.

Sweeda and Camlin and their men occupied this position during the remainder of the night, firing their weapons and throwing hand grenades when the Japanese assembled at the edge of the jungle before attacking. They, the Raiders from Company "C," and the machine gunners from Company "E" helped to repel three "banzai" charges against their position, while the 105mm howitzers and 75mm pack howitzers of the 11th Marines fired their devastating barrages and inflicted heavy casualties on the Japanese in the low jungle areas only 200 or 300 yards to their front.

During one particularly heavy fire fight, Sweeda’s squad was ordered to shift to an alternate position. As Private Reynolds left his foxhole to make the move, he slipped and fell head over heels down the steep incline. Ending up at the foot of the hill unhurt, but with his BAR sling broken and the weapon plugged with dirt, he soon discovered that he and some other Raiders had ". . . mingled with the Japs. It was so dark you could only make out forms but you could smell the Japs. We were so close that we bumped into each other. . . [and] to this day I believe the Japs knew we were among them but they were as disorganized as we were and didn’t want to start anything." He and the other Marines made their way back to the ridge "in time to hear Edson say that this was where we were going to make our stand."

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