Our planes were usually P-47s loaded with either two
five-hundred-pounders, or two belly tanks of incendiary fuel. A
two-hundred-gallon tank of that stuff bursting in the undergrowth of a
ravine, flushes out the rodents in it most efficiently.
The infantryman often finds men of other branches
standing in awe of his stories of personal contact with the enemy. Some
of the bold and adventurous will occasionally ask to go on a patrol or
visit the troops in contact in order to get a personal taste of it. Our
Air Forces forward observer had the time of his life one day.
Company L of the 34th Infantry was scheduled for an
attack up a large ravine past the north entrance to Malinta Tunnel. In
preparation for it we were running an incendiary strike to burn out the
heavy undergrowth and silence a Jap 20mm. in the area. The battalion
executive officer and the air observer had a beautiful OP in a small
trench overlooking the target area. When the planes passed over on the
trial run, a six-foot Jap jumped out of the bushes, ran like mad up the
narrow road about fifty yards and popped back into the bushes. The Air
Forces lieutenant’s eyes bulged. “Hey, I could have got that bastard if
I’d had an M1!”
The executive officer smiled, got an M1 from the
near-by platoon sergeant and laid it over the parapet. “OK, there you
are. Now, when the first bomb drops, keep your eyes open. He’ll probably
flush again.”
The bomb dropped near the road. Out came the big Jap
like a bat out of you know where. The lieutenant dropped him neatly. The
other riflemen, having given the Air Forces officer a visitor’s
courtesy, made sure that the Jap stayed down. The next plan was coming
in, the phone rang madly. The excited lieutenant unconsciously answered
it. The voice in his ear was angry. “What the hell are you doing up
there? I’ve been ringing my head off! The pilots want to know if the
bombs are going in OK!”
“Bombs? Oh, bombs! Yeah, they’re all right. Say, I
just shot a Jap!”
Frequently and fortunately there were more planes
available than we could use on close support targets. Normally, there
were requests for about two strikes a day. The air base often sent
enough planes for four or five strikes if we happened to need them. The
liaison officer would say, “I’ve got fifteen planes overhead. Any
targets?”
“Nothing right now.”
“OK, they’ve got about two hours of gas. I’ll keep
them standing by and check again when they have about fifteen minutes
left.”
If at the end of the two-hour period, no close-in
targets moved up, the bombs were used “strategically” on the east end of
the island, on likely storage areas and hideouts in ravines where naval
gunfire couldn’t reach. After the bombs were dropped, the planes would
rat race around and strafe for any Japs flushed by the bombing. One day,
the liaison officer was sending a squadron on a “strategic” mission. The
squadron commander asked, ”Is it OK to strafe in there?”
“OK to strafe. Go ahead.”
”Roger.”
Then a strange voice came in. “This is so-and-so
right over you. I’m coming home from reconnaissance. I haven’t and
bombs, but may I join in the strafing?”
”Sure, come along?”
”Roger, Wilco, and thank you.”
Cooperation and coordination are wonderful things
once everybody gets the idea.