Jap in a cave
WITH XXIV CORPS, Okinawa Island – One American patrol found their first Okinawa civilian today – behind a cedar chest in a cave. The civilian was not over four feet tall, barefooted and dressed only in a dark blue kimono.
WITH XXIV CORPS, Okinawa Island – One American patrol found their first Okinawa civilian today – behind a cedar chest in a cave. The civilian was not over four feet tall, barefooted and dressed only in a dark blue kimono.
Fanatical Hitlerite then flees city
By Eleanor Packard, United Press staff writer
…
Surprise attack hits Shanghai airdrome
…
…
Almost every time there is a battle, the public is told it is the most important yet. So, the public by this time is beginning to discount such reports as something it has heard too often before. Hence the rather take-it-for-granted attitude toward the Okinawa landing.
Actually, this island with the strange name is the key to our entire offensive against Japan. the Marianas and the Philippines are essential waystations, but they are too far away from Japan to serve as advance bases. Iwo is important, though too small for major air, naval and supply bases. But Okinawa is the works.
All the experts agree on this - including the Japs. According to Tokyo, “The entire strategy of the Pacific hangs on this island… The loss of Okinawa would mean the collapse of the vanguards of Japan proper, and then there could be no hope of turning the course of the war.” Our Army commander there, Lt. Gen. Simon Buckner, says:
It is difficult to overemphasize the importance of this operation, from the standpoint of our offensive, this is the most valuable island yet invaded.
Okinawa is large enough for adequate bases. It can provide harbors for surface fleets, submarines, supply and troopships. It has several airfields and facilities for more.
It is the most perfect location for our offensive purposes. It dominates the East China Sea and is within striking distance of all four of our eventual objectives – Formosa, the China coast, Korea and Japan proper. The China coast is only 400 miles away, Formosa 350, and the Jap home island of Kyushu 325.
From this position our Navy will be able to cut the main enemy supply lines across the East China Sea, and its submarines can roam the Yellow Sea and the Sea of Japan, hitherto private Jap waterways. That will further reduce enemy shipping. It will seriously interfere with the two-way war traffic of raw materials and food to Japan and of military supplies from Japan to troops in China.
And Okinawa is close enough to launch our invasions of China and Japan. Our Easter landings in great force and with infinitesimal loss have shortened the war.
Problem is acute as European refugees roam the world in search of haven
By William Philip Simms, Scripps-Howard foreign editor
…
By Henry J. Taylor, Scripps-Howard writer
…
Bureau heads argue eloquently for continuing operation – Some points are sound
By Charles T. Lucey, Scripps-Howard staff writer
…
Oleander fearsome sight, thanks to ingenuity of property man
By Maxine Garrison
…
But there’s a joker in the deal – Cast is too weary to enjoy it
By Hazel Hartzog
…
HOLLYWOOD – Lucille Ball arrived at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer the other day to start her role in Early to Wed, halting all her friends to show them a huge German flag, bearing the Nazi swastika.
The red-haired star had just received it from her brother-in-law, Lt. Kenneth Morgan, along with cheering word of his safety. In a mortar division with the Seventh Army, he had moved into Strasbourg the night of its capture, and had awakened the next morning to find the flag flying outside his room.
By Ernie Pyle
OFF THE OKINAWA BEACHHEAD (by Navy radio) – This is the last column before the invasion. It is written aboard a troop transport the evening before we storm onto Okinawa.
We are nervous. Anybody with any sense is nervous on the right before D-Day. You feel weak and you try to think of things, but your mind stubbornly drifts back to the awful image of tomorrow. It drags on your soul and you have nightmares.
But those fears do not mean any lack of confidence. We will take Okinawa. Nobody has any doubt about that. But we know we will have to pay for it. some on this ship will not be alive 24 hours from now.
We are in convoy. Many, many big ships are lined up in columns with our warships escort on the outsides. We are an impressive escort on the outsides. We are an impressive sight – yet we are only one of many similar convoys.
We left from different places. We have been on our way many days. We are the biggest, strongest force ever to sail in the Pacific. We are going into what we expect to be the biggest battle so far in the Pacific.
Our ship is an APA, or assault transport. The ship itself is a war veteran. She wears five stars on her service ribbon – Africa, Sicily, Italy, Normandy and Southern France. She wears the Purple Heart, Bronze Star and Legion of Merit Silver Star. She has fared well on the other side. We hope her luck holds out in the Pacific.
We are carrying Marines. Some of them are going into combat for the first time. Others are veterans from as far back as Guadalcanal. They are a rough, unshaven, competent bunch of Americans. I am landing with them. I feel I am in good hands.
Two of a stripe
I’ve shared a cabin with Marine Maj. Reed Taylor of Kensington, Maryland. He is a Guadal vet and he jokingly belittles newcomers who weren’t through “green hell.” The major and I are sort of two of a stripe and we get along fine.
We have the nicest cabin either of us ever had at sea. And we’ve take advantage of it by sleeping away almost the whole trip. We’ve slept day and night. So have many others.
There is a daily argument on ship whether or not you can store up sleep and energy for the ordeal ahead. The doctor says it’s nonsense – that you can’t store up sleep.
Between naps I’ve read two books. They are Bob Hope’s I Never Left Home (how I wish I never had) and Bob Casey’s Such Interesting People only I wish I could hear Bob Casey tell all those stories in person, lying on his cot in France and roaring and shaking with his own laughter. Bob’s laughter would be good for us now. A Marione officer said, “I haven’t laughed for three days.”
Nobody complains
Our trip has been fairly smooth and not many of the troops were seasick. Down in the holds the Marines sleep on racks four tiers high. It isn’t a nice way to travel. But I’ve never heard anybody complain. They come up on the deck on nice days to sun and to rest and to wash clothes, or lie and read or play cards.
We don’t have movies. The ship is darkened at subset and after that there are only dim lights. The food is good. We get news every morning in a mimeographed paper and once or twice a day the ship’s officers broadcast the latest news over the loudspeaker.
They’ve kept us informed daily of the progress of the Okinawa bombardment that preceded our landing. Every little bit of good news cheers us. The ship, of course, is full of rumors, good and bads, but nobody believes any of them.
Daily briefings
Meetings are held daily among the officers to iron out last-minute details of the landing. Day by day, the Marine troop are fully briefed on what they are to do.
Everything we read about Okinawa stresses that the place is lousy with snakes. It’s amazing the number of people who are afraid of snakes. Okinawa “snake-talk” crops into every conversation.
On the last day we changed our money into newly manufactured “Invasion Yen,” drew two days K rations, took a last bath, and packed our kits before supper. We had a huge turkey dinner and, say, we have steak and eggs for breakfast.
“Fattening us up for the kill,” the boys laughingly say.
At 3 o’clock on the last afternoon there was a celebration of the Lord’s Supper. It was the afternoon before Easter Sunday. A lot of us could not help but feel the tragic irony of it, knowing about tomorrow’s battle.