|
|
|---|
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Henry P. Crowe
Henry Crowe had a Long and Illustrious Career in the United States Marine Corp. There are few outside of the Corps who know about him and those that do, even those in the Marines, equate him with his colorful quotations such as "Goddam it, you'll never get the Purple Heart hiding in a foxhole! Follow me!" - Major "Jim" Crowe (1899-1991).
It is necessary to give some information about other American heroes and events in describing the actions of the man who many Marines describe as the toughest.
*****
One of the most famous members of the 8th Marines in WWII was Henry Pierson "Jim" Crowe. He was born at Boston, Kentucky in 1899.
Henry Crowe enlisted in the Marine Corps after WW1. He saw service in Nicaragua and China. He was commissioned as a Gunnery Warrant Officer in 1934. Henry Crowe attained his Captain's bars after Pearl Harbor.
Guadalcanal Campaign
Captain Crowe landed with the 8th Marines at Guadalcanal in November 1942, commanding a Weapons Company. On January 13, 1943 while leading an attack on Japanese positions Captain Crowe issued his famous "Follow Me" command.
On January 31, the 2nd Marines and the 1st Battalion, 8th Marines, boarded ship to leave Guadalcanal. Some of these men were so debilitated by malaria they had to be carried on board. They were like young men grown old "with their skins cracked and furrowed and wrinkled."
On February 9, the rest of the 8th Marines and a good part of the division supporting units boarded transports. The 6th Marines, thankfully only six weeks on the island, left on the 19th. All were headed for Wellington, New Zealand, the 2nd Marines for the first time. Left behind, on the island as a legacy of the 2nd Marine Division, were 263 dead marines.
The total cost of the Guadalcanal campaign to the American ground combat forces was 1,598 officers and men killed, 1,152 of them Marines.
Captain Henry P. Crowe received the Silver Star for his actions on Guadalcanal.
The wounded totaled 4,709, and 2,799 of these were Marines. Marine aviation casualties were 147 killed and 127 wounded. The Japanese in their turn lost close to 25,000 men on Guadalcanal, about half of whom were killed in action. The rest succumbed to illness, wounds, and starvation.
At sea, the comparative losses were about equal, with each side losing about the same number of fighting ships. The enemy loss of 2 battleships, 3 carriers, 12 cruisers, and 25 destroyers, was irreplaceable. The Allied ships losses, though costly, were not fatal; in essence, all ships lost were replaced. In the air, at least 600 Japanese planes were shot down; even more costly was the death of 2,300 experienced pilots and air crewmen. The Allied plane losses were less than half the enemy's number and the pilot and aircrew losses substantially lower.
President Roosevelt, reflecting the thanks of a grateful nation, awarded General Vandegrift the Medal of Honor for "outstanding and heroic accomplishment" in his leadership of American forces on Guadalcanal from 7 August to 9 December 1942. And for the same period, he awarded the Presidential Unit Citation to the 1st Marine Division (Reinforced) for "outstanding gallantry" reflecting "courage and determination ... of an inspiring order." Included in the division's citation and award, besides the organic units of the 1st Division, were the 2d and 8th Marines and attached units of the 2d Marine Division, all of the Americal Division, the 1st Parachute and 1st and 2d Raider Battalions, elements of the 3d, 5th, and 14th Defense Battalions, the 1st Aviation Engineer Battalion, the 6th Naval Construction Battalion, and two motor torpedo boat squadrons. The indispensable Cactus Air Force was included, also represented by 7 Marine headquarters and service squadrons, 16 Marine flying squadrons, 16 Navy flying squadrons, and 5 Army flying squadrons.
Tarawa Campaign
Religious services on board ship before the landing at Tarawa.
Henry P. Crowe was promoted to major and appointed the battalion commander of the 2/8th Marines, Major Crowe led them onto Red Beach 3 at Tarawa in November 1943.
The only assault unit to get ashore without significant casualties was Major "Jim" Crowe's LT 2/8 on Red Beach Three to the left of the pier. Many historians have attributed this good fortune to the continued direct fire support 2/8 received throughout its run to the beach from the destroyers Ringgold and Dashiell in the lagoon. The two ships indeed provided outstanding fire support to the landing force, but their logbooks indicate both ships honored Admiral Hill's 0855 ceasefire; thereafter, neither ship fired in support of LT 2/8 until at least 0925. It seems, the preliminary fire from such short range served to keep the Japanese defenders on the eastern end of the island buttoned up long after the ships ceased fireing.
Major Crowe's LT 2/8 was up against some of the most sophisticated defensive positions on the island; three fortifications to their left (eastern) flank would effectively keep these Marines boxed in for the next 48 hours.
Major Henry "Jim" Crowe was a tower of strength throughout the battle. His trademark red mustache bristling, a combat shotgun cradled in his arm, his exuded confidence and professionalism, were needed on Betio that long day.
Major Crowe ordered the coxswain of his LCVP "put this goddamned boat in!" The boat hit the reef at high speed, sending the Marines sprawling. Quickly recovering, Major Crowe ordered his men over the sides, then led them through several hundred yards of shallow water, reaching the shore intact only four minutes behind his last wave of LVTs.
Accompanying Major Crowe during this hazardous effort was Staff Sergeant Hatch, the marine combat photographer.
Sergeant Hatch remembers being inspired by Crowe, clenching a cigar in his teeth and standing upright, growling at his men, "Look, the sons of bitches can't hit me. Why do you think they can hit you? Get moving. Go!"
The situation on Betio by 0945 was: Major Crowe, well established on the left with modest penetration to the airfield; a distinct gap between LT 2/8 and the survivors of LT 2/2 in small clusters along Red Beach Two under the tentative command of Colonel Walter Jordan;
A dangerous gap due to the Japanese fortifications at the re-entrant between beaches Two and One, with a few members of 3/2 on the left flank and the growing collection of odds and ends under Major Michael P. Ryan past the "bird's beak" on Green Beach; Major Schoettel still afloat, hovering beyond the reef;
Colonel Shoup likewise in an LCVP, but beginning his move towards the beach; residual members of the boated waves of the assault teams still wading ashore under increasing enemy fire; the tanks being forced to unload from their LCMs at the reef's edge, trying to organize recon teams to lead them ashore.
Communications were ragged. The balky TBX radios of Colonel Shoup, Major Crowe, and Major Schoettel were still operational. Otherwise, there was either dead silence or complete havoc on the command nets.
Major Michael Patrick Ryan
No one on the flagship knew of Major Ryan's relative success on the western end, or of Amey's death and Colonel Jordan's assumption of command. Several echelons heard this ominous early report from an unknown source: "Have landed. Unusually heavy opposition. Casualties 70 percent. Can't hold."
Colonel Shoup ordered Major Wood B Kyle's LT 1/2, the regimental reserve, to land on Red Beach Two and work west.
This would take time. Major Kyle's men were awaiting orders at the line of departure, but all were embarked in boats. Colonel Shoup and others managed to assemble enough LVTs to transport Major Kyle's companies A and B, but the third infantry company and the weapons company would have to wade ashore. The ensuing assault was chaotic.
Tarawa beach after the fighting for the beach.
Many of the LVTs were destroyed enroute by antiboat guns which increasingly had the range down pat. At least five vehicles were driven away by the intense fire and landed west at Major Ryan's position, adding another 113 troops to Green Beach. What was left of Companies A and B stormed ashore and penetrated several hundred feet, expanding the "perimeter". Other troops sought refuge along the pier or tried to commandeer a passing LVT. Major Kyle got ashore in this fashion, but many of his troops did not complete the landing until the following morning.
The experience of Lieutenant George D. Lillibridge of Company A, 1st Battalion, 2d Marines, was typical. His LVT driver and gunners were shot down by machine gun fire. The surviving crewman got the stranded vehicle started again, but only in reverse. The stricken vehicle then backed wildly though the entire impact zone before breaking down again. Lieutenant Lillibridge and his men did not get ashore until sunset.
Colonel Shoup at this time was in the middle of a long odyssey trying to get ashore. He paused briefly for this memorable exchange of radio messages with Major Schoettel.
0959: (Schoettel to Shoup) "Receiving heavy fire all along beach. Unable to land all. Issue in doubt."
1007: (Schoettel to Shoup) "Boats held up on reef of right flank Red 1. Troops receiving heavy fire in water."
1012: (Shoup to Schoettel) "Land Beach Red 2 and work west."
1018: (Schoettel to Shoup) "We have nothing left to land."
Colonel David Monroe Shoup
When Colonel David Shoup's LCVP was stopped by the reef, he transferred to a passing LVT. His party included Lieutenant Colonel Evans F. Carlson, already a media legend for his earlier exploits at Makin and Guadalcanal, now serving as an observer, and Lieutenant Colonel Presley M. Rixey, commanding 1st Battalion, 10th Marines,
Colonel Shoup's artillery detachment. The LVT made three attempts to land; each time the enemy fire was too intense. On the third try, the LVT was hit and disabled by Japanese fire. Colonel Shoup sustained a painful shell fragment wound in his leg, but was able to llead his small party out of the stricken vehicle and into the shelter of the pier. From this position, while standing waist-deep in water, and surrounded by thousands of dead fish and dozens of floating bodies, Colonel Shoup manned his radio, trying desperately to get organized combat units ashore.
Marine Corps Sherman flame thower tank on Tarawa.
For awhile, Colonel Shoup had hopes that the new Sherman tanks would serve to break the gridlock. The combat debut of the Marine medium tanks, however, was inauspicious on D-Day. The tankers were valorous, but the 2d Marine Division had no concept of how to employ tanks against fortified positions. When four Shermans reached Red Beach Three late in the morning of D-Day, Major Crowe simply waved them forward with orders to "knock out all enemy positions encountered." The tank crews, buttoned up under fire, were virtually blind. Without accompanying infantry they were lost piecemeal, some knocked out by Japanese 75mm guns, others damaged by American dive bombers.
In another incident, Sergeant Roy W. Johnson attacked a Japanese tank single-handedly, scrambling to the turret, dropping a grenade inside, then sitting on the hatch until the detonation. Johnson survived this incident, but he was killed in subsequent fighting on Betio, one of 217 Marine Corps sergeants to be killed or wounded in the 76-hour battle.
On Red Beach Three, a captain, shot through both arms and legs, sent a message to Major "Jim" Crowe, apologizing for "letting you down. ." Major Ryan recalled "a wounded sergeant I had never seen before limping up to ask me where he was needed most." PFC Moore, wounded and disarmed from his experiences trying to drive "My Deloris" over the seawall, carried fresh ammunition up to machine gun crews the rest of the day until having to be evacuated to one of the transports.
Other brave individuals retrieved a pair of 37mm antitank guns from a sunken landing craft, manhandled them several hundred yards ashore under nightmarish enemy fire, and hustled them across the beach to the seawall. The timing was critical.
Two Japanese tanks were approaching the beachhead. The Marine guns were too low to fire over the wall. "Lift them over," came the cry from a hundred throats, "LIFT THEM OVER!" Willing hands hoisted the 900-pound guns atop the wall. The gunners coolly loaded, aimed, and fired, knocking out one tank at close range, chasing off the other. There were hoarse cheers.
Major Henry P. "Jim" Crowe (standing, using radio handset) rallies Landing Team 2/8 behind a disabled LVT on Red Beach Three on D-Day. Carrying a shotgun, he went from foxhole to foxhole urging his troops forward against heavy enemy fire.
Conditions were congested on Red Beach One, as well, but there was a difference. Major Crowe was everywhere, "as cool as ice box lettuce." There were no stragglers. Major "Jim" Crowe constantly fed small groups of Marines into the lines to reinforce his precarious hold on the left flank. Captain Hoffman of 3/8 was not displeased to find his unit suddenly integrated within Major Crowe's 2/8. Major Crowe certainly needed help as darkness began to fall. "There we were," Captain Hoffman recalled, "toes in the water, casualties everywhere, dead and wounded all around us. But finally a few Marines started inching forward, a yard here, a yard there." It was enough. Captain Hoffman was soon able to see well enough to call in naval gunfire support 50 yards ahead. His Marines dug in for the night.
Col David Monroe Shoup.
West of Major Crowe's lines, and just inland from Colonel Shoup's command post, Captain William T. Bray's Company B, 1/2, settled in for the expected counterattacks. The company had been scattered in Major Kyle's bloody landing at mid-day. Captain Bray reported to Major Kyle that he had men from 12 to 14 different units in his company, including several sailors who swam ashore from sinking boats. The men were well armed and no longer strangers to each other, and Major Kyle was reassured.
Altogether, some 5,000 Marines had stormed the beaches of Betio on D-Day. Fifteen hundred of these were dead, wounded, or missing by nightfall. The survivors held less than a quarter of a square mile of sand and coral. Colonel Shoup later described the location of his beachhead lines the night of D-Day as "a stock market graph." His Marines went to ground in the best fighting positions they could secure, whether in shellholes inland or along the splintered seawall. Despite the crazy-quilt defensive positions and scrambled units, the Marines' fire discipline was superb. The troops seemed to share a certain grim confidence; they had faced the worst in getting ashore. They were quietly ready for any sudden banzai charges in the dark.
United States Marine Corps Brigadier General Julian C Smith.
Offshore, the level of confidence diminished. General Julian Smith on Maryland was gravely concerned. "This was the crisis of the battle," he recalled. "Three-fourths of the island was in the enemy's hands, and even allowing for his losses he should have had as many troops left as we had ashore." A concerted Japanese counterattack, General Smith believed, would have driven most of his forces into the sea.
Major Geneneral Julian Smith (left) confers with Lt General A. A. Vandegrif.
General Smith and Admiral Hill reported up the chain of command to Turner, Spruance, and Nimitz: "Issue remains in doubt." Spruance's staff began drafting plans for emergency evacuation of the landing force. The expected Japanese counterattack did not materialize. The principal dividend of all the bombardment turned out to be the destruction of Admiral Shibasaki's wire communications.
The Japanese commander could not muster his men to take the offensive. A few individuals infiltrated through the Marine lines to swim out to disabled tanks and LVTs in the lagoon, where they waited for the morning. Otherwise, all was quiet.
The main struggle throughout the night of D-Day was the attempt by Colonel Shoup and Hermle to advise General Julian Smith of the best place to land the reserves on D+1. General Smith was amazed to learn at 0200 that Hall and Hays were in fact not ashore but still afloat at the line of departure, awaiting orders. Again, he ordered Combat Team Eight (-) to land on the eastern tip of the island, this time at 0900 on D+1. Hermle finally caught a boat to one of the destroyers in the lagoon to relay Colonel Shoup's request to the commanding general to land reinforcements on Red Beach Two.
General Smith altered Hall's orders accordingly, but he ordered Hermle back to the flagship, miffed at his assistant for not getting ashore and taking command. But Hermle had done General Smith a good service in relaying the advice from Colonel Shoup.
As much as the 8th Marines were going to bleed in the morning's assault, a landing on the eastern end of the island would have been an unmitigated catastrophe. Reconnaissance after the battle discovered those beaches to be the most intensely mined on the island.
The backpack flamethrower won universal acclaim from the Marines on Betio. Each battalion commander recommended increases in quantity, range, and mobility for these assault weapons. Some suggested that larger versions be mounted on tanks and LVTs, presaging the appearance of "Zippo Tanks" in later campaigns in the Pacific.
Major Henry Crowe's inspiring leadership and disregard for his personal safety was a key determinate in holding the beachhead during the traumatic first day of battle. He was awarded the Navy Cross for his bravery on Tarawa.
The costs of the Battle of Tarawa were two-fold: the loss of Marines in the assault itself, followed by the shock and despair of the American nation upon hearing the reports of the battle. The gains at first seemed small in return, the "stinking little island" of Betio, 8,000 miles from Tokyo. In time, the practical lessons learned in the complex art of amphibious assault began to outweigh the initial adverse publicity.
The final casualty figures for the 2d Marine Division in Operation Galvanic were 997 Marines and 30 sailors (organic medical personnel) dead; 88 Marines missing and presumed dead; and 2,233 Marines and 59 sailors wounded. Total casualties: 3,407.
The Guadalcanal campaign had cost a comparable amount of Marine casualties over six months; Tarawa's losses occurred in a period of 76 hours. Moreover, the ratio of killed to wounded at Tarawa was significantly high, reflecting the savagery of the fighting. The overall proportion of casualties among those Marines engaged in the assault was about 19 percent, a steep but "acceptable" price. But some battalions suffered much higher losses. The 2d Amphibian Tractor Battalion lost over half of the command. The battalion also lost all but 35 of the 125 LVT's employed at Betio.
A Marine combat correspondent assigned to the Tarawa operation interviews a Marine from the 18th Engineers, 2d Marine Division, during the course of the fighting.
Gut wrenching headlines by publishers like William Randolph Hearst ( "The Bloody Beaches of Tarawa" ) alarmed American newspaper readers.Part of the responsibility for this was the Marines' own doing. Many of the combat correspondents invited along for Operation Galvanic had shared the very worst of the hell of Betio the first 36 hours, and they simply reported what they observed. Such was the case of Marine Corps Master Technical Sergeant James C. Lucas, whose accounts of the fighting received front-page coverage in both The Washington Post and The New York Times on December 4; 1943.
Colonel Shoup was furious with James Lucas for years thereafter, but it was the headline writers for both papers who did the most damage (The Times: "Grim Tarawa Defense a Surprise, Eyewitness of Battle Reveals; Marines Went in Chuckling, To Find Swift Death Instead of Easy Conquest.").
General Holland Smith.
Nor did extemporaneous remarks to the media by some of the senior Marines involved in Operation Galvanic help soothe public concerns. General Holland Smith likened the D-Day assault to Pickett's Charge at Gettysburg. "Red Mike" Edson said the assault force "paid the stiffest price in human life per square yard" at Tarawa than any other engagement in Marine Corps history.
Evans Carlson talked graphically of seeing 100 of Hays men gunned down in the water in five minutes on D+1, which was a considerable exaggeration. It did not help matters when Headquarters of Marine Corps waited until 10 days after the battle to release casualty lists.
Staff Sgt Norman Hatch's movie film was helpful for the marines in the dispute.
The atmosphere in both Washington and Pearl Harbor was very tense during this period. General MacArthur, still bitter that the 2d Marine Division had been taken from his Southwest Pacific Command, wrote the Secretary of War complaining that "these frontal attacks by the Navy, as at Tarawa, are a tragic and unnecessary massacre of American lives."
The controversy was stirred again after the war when General Holland Smith claimed publicly that "Tarawa was a mistake!" Significantly, Admiral Nimitz, Admiral Spruance, Admiral Turner, Admiral Hill, General Julian Smith, and Colonel David Shoup disagreed with that assessment.
Admiral Nimitz did not waver. "The capture of Tarawa," he stated, "knocked down the front door to the Japanese defenses in the Central Pacific." Nimitz launched the Marshalls campaign only 10 weeks after the seizure of Tarawa. Photo-reconnaissance and attack aircraft from the captured airfields at Betio and Apamama provided invaluable support. Of greater significance to the success in the Marshalls were the lessons learned and the confidence gleaned from the Tarawa experience.
Henry I. Shaw, Jr., for many years the Chief Historian of the Marine Corps, observed that Tarawa was the textbook on amphibious assault that guided and influenced all subsequent landings in the Central Pacific. Henry Shaw believed that the prompt and selfless analyses which immediately followed Tarawa were of great value: "From analytical reports of the commanders and from their critical evaluations of what went wrong, of what needed improvement, and of what techniques and equipment proved out in combat, came a tremendous outpouring of lessons learned."
All participants agreed that the conversion of logistical LVTs to assault craft made the difference between victory and defeat at Betio. There was further consensus that the LVT-1s and LVT-2s employed in the operation were marginal against heavy defensive fires. The Alligators needed more armor, heavier armament, more powerful engines, auxiliary bilge pumps, self-sealing gas tanks—and wooden plugs the size of 13mm bullets to keep from being sunk by the Japanese M93 heavy machine guns. Most of all, there needed to be many more LVTs, at least 300 per division. Shoup wanted to keep the use of LVTs as reef crossing assault vehicles a secret, but there had been too many reporters on the scene. Hanson W. Baldwin broke the story in The New York Times as early as 3 December.
A woman wrote Admiral Nimitz accusing him of "murdering my son." Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox called a press conference in which he blamed "a sudden shift in the wind" for exposing the reef and preventing reinforcements from landing. Congress proposed a special investigation.
General Alexander A. Vandegrift in Washington DC, was the newly appointed 18th Commandant of the Marine Corps. General Vandegrift was a highly respected and well decorated veteran of Guadalcanal. He reassured Congress, pointing out that "Tarawa was an assault from beginning to end." The final casualty reports proved to be less dramatic than were expected. A thoughtful editorial in the December 27, 1943 issue of The New York Times, complimented the Marine Corps for overcoming Tarawa's sophisticated defenses and fanatical garrison, warning that future assaults in the Marshalls might result in heavier losses. "We must steel ourselves now to pay that price."
Military historians Jeter A. Isely and Philip A. Crowl's assessment - "The capture of Tarawa, in spite of defects in execution, conclusively demonstrated that American amphibious doctrine was valid, that even the strongest island fortress could be seized."
*****
On July 12, 1949, while he was stationed in Camp Pendleton, California, he and his wife Mona had a son that they named Jim Crowe. Their son would become a billionaire businessman in the broadband industry.
Henry Crowe stayed in the Marine Corps after the war and along with Colonel David Shoup - a Medal of Honor recipient, Distinguished Pistol Shot, and future Commandant of the Marines - made a cameo appearance in the 1949 John Wayne movie "Sands of Iwo Jima".
When the Korean War broke out in 1950 Henry Crowe again saw combat again as the commander of the 1st Shore Party Battalion at Inchon.
Henry P. Crowe retired from the United States Marine Corps in the late 1950s and later served as Chief of Police of the Portsmouth, Virginia , Police Dept from 1960 to 1969. He retired in 1969 to live in Portsmouth. he passed on in 1991.
Major Henry P. Crowe’s Navy Cross
Citation:
"The Navy Cross is presented to Henry P. Crowe, Major, U.S. Marine Corps, for extraordinary heroism as Commanding Officer of the Second Battalion, Eighth Marines, Second Marine Division, in action against enemy Japanese forces on Tarawa Atoll, Gilbert Islands, on 20, 21 and 22 November 1943. Courageously leading his Battalion ashore in the face of savage enemy resistance, Major Crowe maintained continuous aggressive pressure for three days from the limited beachhead established by his command in the midst of Japanese emplacements and strongholds. Constantly exposing himself to hostile fire and working without rest, he effectively coordinated the efforts of his own hard-pressed Battalion, attached units and subsequent reinforcement, directing their combined attacks skillfully and with unwavering determination, and succeeded in overcoming one of the most heavily defended Japanese centers of resistance on Tarawa Atoll.
Major Crowe's inspiring leadership, brilliant tactical ability and indomitable fighting spirit under extremely perilous conditions reflect great credit upon himself, his valiant command and the United States Naval Service."
Distinguished Marksman 1927 - Henry P Crowe USMC
Disginguished Pistol Shot 1940 - Henry P. Crowe USMC
0 Comments:
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
