seconds, then the engine would roar to life again and we knew the bomb was on the way. The next sound was the crashing of the bomb through the trees and branches above, then the huge blast and bright yellow red flame lit up the area. Then we could relax our a** h**e sphincter muscle again and be glad the bomb had burst somewhere else. Otherwise the time spent there before the battle was boring, burying rotten Jap bodies, going upriver for fresh water, countless patrols to keep tabs on the Jap movements. All the while the Japs were building up a very strong fortification for us to throw ourselves against with nothing for a shield but our cotton dungaree jackets while they could machine gun us from behind a few feet of coral and coconut logs.

We went in column formation to Biaroko and as we approached the enemy, the column split out as skirmish lines. My Platoon swept to the left, (east) through sharp grass and thick scrub trees very difficult to work through. When we all got in line and ready, we hollered out a series of wild Indian war cries. We screamed and cussed and ran toward the enemy in what was probably the last brave charge made by the Raiders. We ran for several minutes hollering as we went and soon a lot of small arms fire sounded. It got quiet again while we got behind shelter on our bellies. There was another trail ahead of us parallel to our line which meant the Japs were on the other side. Leroy Heim and I got a little behind when he thought he was shot through the leg, but it was only a close one that ripped his leggings and made a long pencil wound on his calf. I moved up following the platoon and ran into Capt. Walker. He was concerned that Leroy and I were behind, but it didn’t take long to catch up again.

 Jack Hancock of our 1st Squad was killed instantly and our skirmish line was getting ragged, just milling around looking for Japs who they could hear but not see. Thornton of the 2nd platoon was out in front of us standing under a spreading tree waiting to move further on up when a grenade burst at his feet. I figured the grenade must have dropped from the tree above, so I emptied one clip of .45’s from my Tommy gun into the thick mass of leaves above. As I watched afterward, a small dripping of water fell from the tree, either from a canteen or wet vines. But it was easy to get Thornton out of there with no trouble.

 We advanced another 60 yards and were then clearly in the Japs field of fire. I saw where most of the tree and bush cover had been chopped down and knew the brush on out ahead covered their bunkers and pillboxes. We received heavy fire from the brush but stood our ground. A message was received to hold this line while another platoon swept across in front of us. Beyond the brush off to one side I saw a blasted out shed where the tin roofing had collapsed into what may have been a basement. I worked closer and saw movement. I threw a grenade. When it exploded, the movements stopped.

 We stayed on this line for awhile, always bettering our position, digging in or working for better concealment. The far edge of the line took some mortar fire which wounded Bill Carr with a chunk in his back. Jap mortars blew up in the trees and showered the ground below, which gave them a greater area of killing compared to if they had exploded on the ground.

 Later in the afternoon the Japs counterattacked. I never knew what happened to the Raider Co. that went across our lines earlier, but intense fire from just ahead indicated they were not in front at least. All we heard was incoming fire and soon Ivan Shurts was pinned down by a Nambu that had his range. I watched as Ivan pointed his Johnson up out of the small hole he laid in and fired burst after burst toward his tormenter. Tracer shells were moving across in both directions. I hollered and asked Ivan where he got all those blue tracers and he hollered back they were Jap tracers, not his. I followed the blue streaks more closely and reckoned the trajectory and shot off 3 magazines of bullets to the source as I saw it. The gun on Ivan was silent and I recall trying to dig my hole deeper. I had no trench tool, but used my gun to scratch deeper as the day wore out. Luckily we were ordered to withdraw and I trotted along until I was back at the large tree where Thornton was grenaded. I forget which officer told me to go to Wes Phillips machine gun and help him as he was the only Raider left in his squad, but before I could, Homer Huffstutter cancelled the order and told me to stay right there with him.

 The night was terrible. A lot of firing -- Japs probing, cries from our wounded, but the Japs did not attack as we sort of expected them to do. 

The next morning we were ordered to retreat back to Enogai because we just barely had enough men still standing to carry out the wounded and protect ourselves while we did so. Further attacks were impossible. On the way out, the riflemen walked the flanks protecting the column of stretchers that dripped blood all the way back to Enogai. Capt. Walker came along the lines and was handing out energy giving chocolate bars. He had been hit in his rear pocket where the shell had shattered a clip of carbine ammunition and a metal spring was lodged in one of his cheeks.

 The next day volunteers went back to the battle scene to recover the dead and any 782 gear we could that was still useful. I didn’t volunteer. I came out with one magazine of bullets and one round in my mouth which would keep me from being captured alive. All of the dead were recovered and properly identified in a hastily dug gravesite. For the next few weeks we supported an Army roadblock farther to the south and tried to rest and recuperate, but this was impossible in that stinking place. On one run to the roadblock, we found two native canoes which we used to carry the load along the river, but the time it took was longer than usual and we got back after dark. That night I ended up sacked out next to Col. Liversedges tent where I recall listening to the Navajo Indian Code talkers inside doing their job.

While at Enogai those weeks, the PT boats tied up under the mangrove trees as they patrolled down past Kolombangara. One morning when they returned they said one of the boats was missing. It must have been PT 109, the boat Pres. Kennedy was commanding in those waters.

 IN JAPAN

 Yes, I do have memories of our time In Yokosuka Japan. The first night I sacked in next to a Jap communication nerve center. There were Japs coming and going all night long. They all had low green leggings and my squad kept watch over them at 2 hour shifts -- no orders, just let the Japs radio to their fleet as they wanted to. The next day, our Platoon leader, Lt. Markusen ordered us to “police-up the area”. Talk about gum beating. There were tons of spent cigarette butts, papers, trash and debris the Japs had wallowed in throughout the war and we combat marines had to police up their crap. You know how dirty they kept their sites, relieved themselves without any slit trenches or out houses, just plain filthy. Monkeys keep their areas cleaner than Japs. I remember having to crawl through their crap when we approached their areas we would attack while on our bellies moving in.

 We got liberty to go into the Jap town at Yokosuka for a couple of hours. Remember Stanley McLain from Alaska? He was demolition man after Jake Jacobson got blown up with his own charge on Okinawa. His name was Eskimo and he blew up the cave that had the Jap payroll in it. He gave me 10,000 yen notes and when I went to town I went to a Jap store that had Buddha’s and urns for sale, but the door was locked. I saw the proprietor inside and knocked on the window making sure he saw the .45 pistol on my hip. He politely opened the store and let me select a 10 inch high Buddha and I peeled off some yen notes, but he would not take them. The statue has been in my home for 45 plus years so far.

 Through the point system we were ordered home from Japan. But before that we had a big celebration dinner with the American P.O.W’s. There was turkey, cranberry pumpkin pie and the works. I talked a lot with one of the P.O.W’s and when he talked to me he squatted like a Jap. I’ve never seen a skinnier man than he was. Just his skin held him together. While a prisoner he had worked in a deep coal mine. Later that day a P.O.W. named Green met his younger brother, who he didn’t even know he was a marine from the First Raiders and when they hugged each other I couldn’t help crying. The P.O.W. wore new dungarees and they hung pitifully from his starved frame.

 While in Yokosuka we were ordered to go with 2 Japs one day to remove weapons from places all around Tokyo bay. We picked up machine guns, knee mortars, rifles and ammunition wherever we went. But we also went through a lot of ordinary Japanese villages and public places. It was there that I lost a lot of the hatred I had for the Japs. Their old folks, their homes and schools, their beautiful little children and all the politeness and neatness of the people really impressed me, favorably for a change.

 EASTWARD  HOMEWARD BOUND

 From Japan we stopped at Guam for two weeks waiting for a ship home. It was another terrible time where we were put to digging latrines and other labor just to keep us busy and out of trouble I guess. The mustering out process really galled me. I was escorted to the trains by Military Police and released when the train started just because I might cause trouble. If they had looked at my papers they would have known I was not that sort of Marine. The long ride home alone on the train. It was not easy to have this sort of memories as the last from my days with the Corps.

 Roger Spaulding-4CP