Stories by Sixth Division Marines
A Cloud of Dust on Flat Top Hill
by Jim White (29th Mar-3-G)
Memories of long ago happenings are often stronger than things that took place last week. Some incidents of June 7, 1945 are tattooed into my memory. On that date, the Third Platoon of G-3-29 (a Marine rifle company) took a hill on Oroku Peninsula, located south of the city of Naha on the island of Okinawa. The platoon encountered machine gun fire from some distance away but dug in on the hill with no one being hit.
G-3-29 had landed on Okinawa on April 1, 1945. On that date, the Third Platoon of G Company had 43 Marines and (possibly as many as) two Navy Medical Corpsmen. By June 7, after receiving replacements the day before, the platoon had just 15 Marines and one Navy Corpsman.
The platoon leader on June 7, 1945 was Gunnery Sergeant John Quattrone. (Gunnery sergeants are known as “Gunny” in the Marine Corps.) Gunny Quattrone was the seventh platoon leader of the Third Platoon since April 1 and the fourth in the three days since the platoon landed behind the Japanese lines on Oroku Peninsula on June 4. On June 9, Gunny Quattrone was wounded within a minute after I was hit by a rifle bullet, most likely by the same Japanese rifleman.
Also with the platoon was a lieutenant from the 15th Marines, which was the artillery regiment for the Sixth Marine Division. The lieutenant was a Forward Observer, usually called an “FO.” His function was to spot for possible artillery targets and call in corrections to put the shells on target. He was equipped with a “walky-talky” radio to communicate with the Marines firing the artillery.
Using his binoculars, the FO scanned the area surrounding our hill. Off to our left, on the Japanese side of the front lines, the FO spotted three Japanese soldiers lying almost side by side on a flat-topped hill about the same height as the hill we had taken. The flat-topped hill became known to us as “Flat Top.” According to the FO’s map, the Japanese were about 600 yards from our hill. They might have been the Japanese equivalent of Forward Observers, or they might have been officers. Regardless, eliminating them would undoubtedly save Marine lives.
We knew that if the FO called for a fire mission and the first artillery shells missed, the three Japanese would be long gone from Flat Top.
We had no machine guns, but we did have Browning Automatic Rifles. Those weapons, familiarly called BARs, weighed about 20 pounds and were able to shoot full power .30 Caliber ammunition at a slow rate of automatic fire, like a slow machine gun.
The gunny was armed with a carbine, as was I. My normal weapon was an M1 rifle. Two days before, I had been hit in the first joint of my right thumb by a shell fragment from a Japanese 47 MM gun. A Corpsman bandaged my thumb. Also wounded were the platoon leader, Lieutenant McNulty, and the three Marines behind me. McNulty had been hit in the left forearm, and his left hand was partially paralyzed. Before he was evacuated, I bummed his carbine off of him.
One of my functions in the platoon was as a platoon runner. Walky-talky radios were delicate, if not fragile. They used vacuum tube technology and were easily damaged by strong knocks and by becoming wet, occurrences which were common in front line platoons. They also ate batteries. So instead, Sound Power telephones were used for communication with front line units, and they provided good service. However, before phone wires could be strung to recently taken positions, runners were used for carrying messages.
The platoon would take an objective, usually a hill. Then, if needed or if possible, a runner — usually me — was sent back. I normally carried my rifle with my right hand at the balance point. With my injured right thumb, it was easier to handle a carbine, which was a light rifle that fired a pistol cartridge.
The Gunny and I borrowed BARs. One reason why the men armed with the BARs did not use them was that they were replacements who had not been with the platoon very long. Also, the Gunny was the best rifle shot in G Company. Modesty deters me from discussing my own ability to shoot rifles.
The rear sights of the BARs were set for about 200 yards. The Gunny and I zeroed the BARs for the 600-yard distance to the three Japanese. The BARs had no bipods. The Gunny and I each used a prone position with a loop sling, like on a rifle range. We fired at objects on the front of the flat-topped hill, out of sight of the three Japanese but at about the same distance away. At what we were shooting, I don’t recall — rocks, clods, brown spots.
The FO spotted for us with his binoculars. I made two sight adjustments. My second burst was dead on point of aim. I was zeroed, and I was sure that the Gunny was also. At that point in time, I believed that Marine gunnery sergeants could walk on water. The three Japanese were too far away for us to see them, but there were still some bushes on the top of Flat Top. The FO told us how to aim with respect to one of the bushes.
We got in position. The FO made sure we were ready, then said something like, “Shoot.” I remember firing three bursts. We raised a cloud of dust on top of Flat Top. The FO said to stop firing. He could see the body of one Japanese still laying there.
Fifty years later, almost to the day, I was with Don Honis at a Sixth Marine Division reunion in Orlando, Florida. Don and I had been in Tsingtao, China after the war and had walked guard posts together several times. We had come back to the United States from China on the same ship around the first of August in 1946. We pitched a liberty together in San Diego.
While sitting at a table with Don at the reunion, he mentioned Flat Top. My ears perked up. I thought that only members of my Third Platoon had known the hill by that name. I asked Don if he had been on Flat Top, and he said his Company, I-3-29, had taken that hill. I asked him if he had seen a dead Japanese on top of the hill. Don said there were three dead Japanese on the top of Flat Top.
The Gunny and I had killed all three — from a distance of about 600 yards.
Don had retrieved a canteen from one of the dead Japanese, and he still had it. I was able to see and hold that canteen in September 2008 at the Sixth Marine Division reunion in Oklahoma City.
Don had been wounded in the left leg by a bullet from a Nambu machine gun on May, 16, 1945. He must have been back with I Company as early as June 8. His bullet wound was still bandaged and not completely healed. The Marine Corps was a tough outfit in those days.
I think it still is.
G-3-29 had landed on Okinawa on April 1, 1945. On that date, the Third Platoon of G Company had 43 Marines and (possibly as many as) two Navy Medical Corpsmen. By June 7, after receiving replacements the day before, the platoon had just 15 Marines and one Navy Corpsman.
The platoon leader on June 7, 1945 was Gunnery Sergeant John Quattrone. (Gunnery sergeants are known as “Gunny” in the Marine Corps.) Gunny Quattrone was the seventh platoon leader of the Third Platoon since April 1 and the fourth in the three days since the platoon landed behind the Japanese lines on Oroku Peninsula on June 4. On June 9, Gunny Quattrone was wounded within a minute after I was hit by a rifle bullet, most likely by the same Japanese rifleman.
Also with the platoon was a lieutenant from the 15th Marines, which was the artillery regiment for the Sixth Marine Division. The lieutenant was a Forward Observer, usually called an “FO.” His function was to spot for possible artillery targets and call in corrections to put the shells on target. He was equipped with a “walky-talky” radio to communicate with the Marines firing the artillery.
Using his binoculars, the FO scanned the area surrounding our hill. Off to our left, on the Japanese side of the front lines, the FO spotted three Japanese soldiers lying almost side by side on a flat-topped hill about the same height as the hill we had taken. The flat-topped hill became known to us as “Flat Top.” According to the FO’s map, the Japanese were about 600 yards from our hill. They might have been the Japanese equivalent of Forward Observers, or they might have been officers. Regardless, eliminating them would undoubtedly save Marine lives.
We knew that if the FO called for a fire mission and the first artillery shells missed, the three Japanese would be long gone from Flat Top.
We had no machine guns, but we did have Browning Automatic Rifles. Those weapons, familiarly called BARs, weighed about 20 pounds and were able to shoot full power .30 Caliber ammunition at a slow rate of automatic fire, like a slow machine gun.
The gunny was armed with a carbine, as was I. My normal weapon was an M1 rifle. Two days before, I had been hit in the first joint of my right thumb by a shell fragment from a Japanese 47 MM gun. A Corpsman bandaged my thumb. Also wounded were the platoon leader, Lieutenant McNulty, and the three Marines behind me. McNulty had been hit in the left forearm, and his left hand was partially paralyzed. Before he was evacuated, I bummed his carbine off of him.
One of my functions in the platoon was as a platoon runner. Walky-talky radios were delicate, if not fragile. They used vacuum tube technology and were easily damaged by strong knocks and by becoming wet, occurrences which were common in front line platoons. They also ate batteries. So instead, Sound Power telephones were used for communication with front line units, and they provided good service. However, before phone wires could be strung to recently taken positions, runners were used for carrying messages.
The platoon would take an objective, usually a hill. Then, if needed or if possible, a runner — usually me — was sent back. I normally carried my rifle with my right hand at the balance point. With my injured right thumb, it was easier to handle a carbine, which was a light rifle that fired a pistol cartridge.
The Gunny and I borrowed BARs. One reason why the men armed with the BARs did not use them was that they were replacements who had not been with the platoon very long. Also, the Gunny was the best rifle shot in G Company. Modesty deters me from discussing my own ability to shoot rifles.
The rear sights of the BARs were set for about 200 yards. The Gunny and I zeroed the BARs for the 600-yard distance to the three Japanese. The BARs had no bipods. The Gunny and I each used a prone position with a loop sling, like on a rifle range. We fired at objects on the front of the flat-topped hill, out of sight of the three Japanese but at about the same distance away. At what we were shooting, I don’t recall — rocks, clods, brown spots.
The FO spotted for us with his binoculars. I made two sight adjustments. My second burst was dead on point of aim. I was zeroed, and I was sure that the Gunny was also. At that point in time, I believed that Marine gunnery sergeants could walk on water. The three Japanese were too far away for us to see them, but there were still some bushes on the top of Flat Top. The FO told us how to aim with respect to one of the bushes.
We got in position. The FO made sure we were ready, then said something like, “Shoot.” I remember firing three bursts. We raised a cloud of dust on top of Flat Top. The FO said to stop firing. He could see the body of one Japanese still laying there.
Fifty years later, almost to the day, I was with Don Honis at a Sixth Marine Division reunion in Orlando, Florida. Don and I had been in Tsingtao, China after the war and had walked guard posts together several times. We had come back to the United States from China on the same ship around the first of August in 1946. We pitched a liberty together in San Diego.
While sitting at a table with Don at the reunion, he mentioned Flat Top. My ears perked up. I thought that only members of my Third Platoon had known the hill by that name. I asked Don if he had been on Flat Top, and he said his Company, I-3-29, had taken that hill. I asked him if he had seen a dead Japanese on top of the hill. Don said there were three dead Japanese on the top of Flat Top.
The Gunny and I had killed all three — from a distance of about 600 yards.
Don had retrieved a canteen from one of the dead Japanese, and he still had it. I was able to see and hold that canteen in September 2008 at the Sixth Marine Division reunion in Oklahoma City.
Don had been wounded in the left leg by a bullet from a Nambu machine gun on May, 16, 1945. He must have been back with I Company as early as June 8. His bullet wound was still bandaged and not completely healed. The Marine Corps was a tough outfit in those days.
I think it still is.
