History That Doesn't Suck - 209: Pacific War 1943: Operation Cartwheel, Tarawa, & Eleanor Roosevelt's Pacific Tour

Episode Date: July 27, 2026

“The ultimate defeat of Japan [will] be accomplished by blockade, bombing, and assault.”This is the story of American island hopping—or should we say leapfrogging?—through Pacific waters. By 1943, the Japanese are settled in for the long haul, no matter what it may cost. America sees some successes like new skip bombing techniques at the Battle of the Bismarck sea, but a change of strategy is needed for real gains. American leaders General Douglas MacArthur and Admiral William "Bull" Halsey launch Operation Cartwheel, a strategic campaign of amphibious landings designed to neutralize Japanese strongholds like Rabaul, Papua New Guinea without attacking head-on. Meanwhile, even though the Solomon Islands are still an active war zone, First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt undertakes a morale-boosting tour, visiting every wounded soldier she possibly can. Just a few short months later, Americans win the brutal Battle of Tarawa at great cost, a decisive victory that exposes the devastating realities of island warfare to those back home. Is each tiny island in the Pacific worth this much death? Or can another path be found? ____Connect with us on HTDSpodcast.com andgo deep into episode bibliographies and book recommendationsjoin discussions in our Facebook communityget news and discounts from The HTDS Gazette come see a live showget HTDS merchor become an HTDS premium member for bonus episodes and other perks.HTDS is part of Audacy media network. IInterested in advertising on the History That Doesn't Suck? Contact Audacyinc.com.

It's 11 p.m. on a moonless night, August 1st, 1943. We're among the South Pacific Solomon Islands, where 15 of the U.S. Navy's patrol torpedo boats are monitoring black and strained. This four-group combined a task force is here to intercept and disrupt the Japanese destroyers, reinforcing the Rising Sun Empire's troops on Koloong Bangara Island. And yes, though not the same island, this is the same midnight sun. supply chain we learned about in the last episode, the Tokyo Express. At this moment, the 13-man crew of Patrol T-Tatopito-109, or just PT-109, as these torpedo-carrying swift yet vulnerable boats are often abbreviated, is doing its part along Koloongara's southern coast.

They're monitoring as quietly as they can by using one engine for the very same reason the whole task force is maintaining radio silence, to avoid detection by their foe. Suddenly, a searchlight flashes on. It falls directly on PT-109. The small vessels commander, Lieutenant John Kennedy, or just Jack, as his friends know him, doesn't waste a second. He pushes the PT to flank speed, zinging and zagging until the light loses them. Then, think, it snaps on.

The handsome, 26-year-old Bostonian commander and his crew breathe the sigh of relief. But only for a moment. this mission's horrors are just beginning. An hour later, around midnight, four Japanese destroyers come into contact with various elements of the PT task force. Japanese heavy guns crack as U.S. torpedo tubes flash in the pitch black. It's useless. The eight PTs that fire a collective 30 torpedoes do no damage at all.

But the communication errors are arguably worse. Having discharged all their torpedoes, some PTs, including the 10, task force's few radar-equipped leaders head back to base without informing the others. This is how Jack Kennedy and the crew of PT-109 find themselves still patrolling in the dark after their group leader has left. It's now 2.30 a.m. moving in a picket line with PT's 162 and 169, Jack's 109 is motoring through the straits in darkness when, all at once, a mere 200 or 300 yards out, He and his men see a mass of some sort directly ahead.

Is it another PT? No, it's a Japanese destroyer. And it's heading straight toward them. Just starting to turn starboard to fire a torpedo. PT 109 is no match for the destroyer Amagiri. The ship barrels forward at 40 knots at night and tears through the little boat, cutting it in two like a knife through butter. Gasoline-fueled planes dance across the water

as Jack and five of his men clean to their bifurcated boats still floating cold. Shouts in the distance tell them others are still alive. Jack swims 100 yards out to save three of his men, including burned, Patrick, Pappy McMahon. He can barely learn. Jack won't leave him, though. Using a life jacket strap, the former Harvard swimmer turned Navy officer toes Pappy back. The straits current makes Jack's encumbered swim miserable. But after an hour, they reached the floating wreckage.

By 5.30 that morning, August 2nd, 11 of PT109's 13 sailors are gathered on the remnants of their boat. But not Andrew Kirksey or Harold Marny. They'll never be seen nor heard from again. Morning gives way to afternoon. Jack knows that no one is coming. Or still, they're on borrowed time. This wreckage won't float forever. So, he comes up with a plan. Around 2 o'clock that afternoon, Jack jumps in the water. He organizes his sailors into a support team. The two who can't swim are on a floating rig, which the better swimmers push and pull.

The weaker ones swim alongside. As for Jack, he's once again towing burned and barely breathing pattern. In this condition, they swim for hours, traversing three and a half miles of choppy waters to reach a small speck of land known as plum-putting island, though they give it another name, bird-eye. Jack Kennedy returns to the sea. Fighting the currents of Ferguson Passage, he swims from one islet to another, hoping to flag down a PT.

Amid Jack's exhaustion, St. George Ross takes a crack too. But no dice, and by August 4th, the coconut subsisting survivors are forced to swim to yet another small island, to Olasana Island, in search of more substance. Nor will their search end there. It's now August 5th. Jack and George are on the potentially Japanese-occupied Nauru Island. Hiding in the brush, they notice a box with Japanese riding on it. It's washed up on shore from a Japanese wreck on the reef.

They grabbed the box and returned to their secluded spot. Opening it, the duo are elated. It contains 40 bags of crackers as well as candies. Better yet, they spot a one-man canoe and a tin of fresh water. And look! two indigenous Solomon Islanders and a canoe out by the Japanese wreckage. Jack and George tried to wave them down, but the men pull fast and disappear in the distance. No matter. This is a win. Jack loads the crackers, candy, and water, leaves George to rest,

and begins Roingback Olasana to feed his men. Jack has succeeded more than he could have ever imagined. He did scare off the two Solomon Islanders, true enough. But in hastily leaving their supplies, these two men also go to Olasana to load up on coconuts. When they do, they find Jack's beleaguered men who, in turn, learn these islanders, Buugusa and Aroni Kumana, are scouts for the Allies. Now that everyone knows they're on the same side, these two are happy to help. Jack scratches a note into the husk of a coconut, which the two locals, his new friends, gladly take to Australian Coast Watcher, Lieutenant Arthur, Greg Evans. Yes, health is on the way.

After a week of hell and constantly risking his life, Jack has done it. He's saved his men. Welcome to History That Doesn't Suck. I'm your professor, Greg Jackson, and I'd like to tell you a story. If not for poor communication, PT109 never would have gotten into the trouble it did. And beyond that, there's room to criticize. Lieutenant Jack Kennedy's decisions that same boat splitting early dark morning.

No matter. As Americans read about this crew's harrowing week in the New Yorker and Reader's Digest, all they see is a young Navy officer who, day after day, risked his life for his men. And you know, there's something to be said for seeing an elite like Jack, a Harvard-educated Bostonian

who figuratively swims in cash every bit as much as he just swam in the South Pacific, selflessly risking his life day after day to save these average American boys. But of course, they weren't average boys to him. They were his men, his sailors, and clearly he was ready to die for them. As such, he's awarded the Navy and Marine Corps Medal. Hoo, that is quite a story. The kind of story that transforms an elite into an accessible American hero. One might even call that a presidential transformation, but that's a story for a much later day. We now continue with the largest story of the Pacific Theater in 1943, which, after the last episode and today's opening, now moves from the South Pacific Solomon Islands to the sprawling archipelago's

nearby neighbor. No, not to Australia, which is to its southwest. We're going directly west, to the Maine-New Guinea landmass. Allow me to set the geographical stage in greater detail. The Australian territory of New Guinea includes the north-eastern quadrant of the main New Guinea landmass, plus several nearby islands, most notably to the east, the large crescent-shaped island of New Britain. Right now, in 1943, New Britain is largely under Japanese control, and its port city of Rabal serves as the Rising Sun Empire's stronghold in the region.

As for the waters that lie between New Britain and just to its west, the massive island that is New Guinea, this is the Bismarck Sea. And all of this falls under General Douglas MacArthur's southwest Pacific area. Now that you've got that mental map, again, generally all just north of Australia, and that's fine if that's how you think of it. Let me add one more region outside of the southwest Pacific. This is the area that the U.S. brass think of as Admiral Chester Nimitz, Central Pacific. We'll get to this much later in the episode, but this will take us hundreds of miles northeast of everything we just described to the Gilbert Islands. These two regions in that order.

This is where we'll see the fighting today as we move from Operation Cartwheel to the horrendous loss of life on the small islet of Baccio, better known as the Battle of Tarawa. Once again, we'll see heroes made as young men make the ultimate sacrifice on beaches thousands of miles from home. But it won't be all bloodbath. First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt's visit to the Solomon Islands will give us a welcome to reprieve. We'll also encounter something surprising. The United States policy of unrestricted submarine warfare. Yes, you heard that right.

The United States, while we again are faced with Japan's unyielding defensive doctrine. And are we island hopping or leapfrogging? Is there a difference? Well, Douglas MacArthur says there is. I can't emphasize how large the Pacific Ocean is, so that means we've got a lot of ground, well, water, to cover today. So let's back up to the start of the year and get to it. Rewind.

The Solomon Islands, Guadal Canal, is firmly in American hands by February, 1943. We know this, of course, from episode 208, and with it, the United States has serious momentum in the Pacific. And the U.S. Navy is determined to keep it that way, as it continues with unrestricted submarine warfare. That might be surprising to hear for anyone who remembers episode 132, in which a German subs, or rather U-boats, sinking of the Lusitania, became a serious part of America's path to entering World War I almost two years later. But now, the American brass are justifying this policy because, as historian Joel Holwood puts it, quote, if Japan could operate freely in the Pacific, unconstrained by economic worries, the United States would have no choice but to concentrate its forces and material in the Pacific Ocean,

instead of focusing on Europe first, close quote. Yes, we know this Europe or Germany first policy from a number of past episodes. It's an immovable principle for the British, and the Americans are standing by their ally, even if that means violating international law by unleashing American subs on a level some would call flat-out piracy. Yet, even with this no-holds barred under the sea decision, made pretty much immediately after the attack on Pearl Harbor back in December 1941, results have been underwhelming. Of the 61 war patrols sent from Pearl Harbor by late 1940,

27 returned with no ship sunk. One of the primary reasons is faulty torpedoes. Sometimes they shoot low. The magnetic detonators don't explode. Or they explode too early. It's so bad that many skippers elect to modify torpedoes on their own. The other issue is that captains came up through the trained cautiousness of the pre-war era. The tide turns as these wary captains are replaced with superstars like the caution-to-the-wind commander,

on the submarine USS Wahoo, Dudley Morton, better known as mushmouth, or just mush by friends and enemies alike. This broad-shouldered and chisel-chin, Kentucky, described by one shipmate as, quote, built like a bear and playful as a cub, close quote, is known for carrying a constant smile, starting fights for fun, and wearing his red bathrobe around the ship. Well, perhaps this feels playful in the eyes of his men, I don't think the Japanese would see him that way. On January 26, 1943, the Wahoo spots the Bu Yomaru, a Japanese transportation ship, quickly heading their way. Mush orders his men to fire down the throat, that is, head on toward the charging ship. The Wahoo successfully cripples its foe. Okay, solid victory, but Mush isn't done. He then orders

his men to fire on the lifeboats Japanese sailors used to abandon the Buyomaru. Yikes. He argues that every man that escapes will go on to continue the fight for Japan. And alas, there's no way he can know that some of these men

are allied POWs from India. Much is never charged with a war crime, yet the order will remain controversial into the 21st century. By taking a step back to look at the big picture, one of the most troubling issues for Americans, his Japanese strategy. As historian Craig Simons puts it, quote, the Japanese had known from the day

of Pearl Harbor that the Americans would eventually launch a counteroffensive, and their plan to defeat it was to wear out the attackers by forcing them to assault numerous strong points within their network of island bases all across the South Pacific. Close quote. Ah, that explains why Japan hasn't gone on the offensive since losing Guadalcanal, but rather has turned to reinforcing their positions. The goal is to cost the Allies blood and treasure, ideally even enough to force a discussion of terms of surrender. This is a legitimate strategy, but at the same time, the very code-breaking that we saw enable the Americans to start turning the Pacific around by the summer of 1942, at least since the Battle of Midway, is now helping the yanks to catch and cut off some

Japanese transport ships before they can reinforce the next location. At least, that's the opportunity created around late February and early March, 1943, when American codebreakers put together that the Japanese are likely trying to reinforce their position on New Guinea's coast. In fact, the opportunity is more than that. It's a chance to try a new bombing technique. It's a little before 10 on a misty morning, March 3, 1943. Abord the destroyer Tokisukasa on the Bismarck Sea, Lieutenant General Yoshihara Kane is walking along the deck.

wearily peering at the sky. A little earlier, he thought he saw a plane in the distance, and not a friendly one. That can mean trouble for the massive convoy he's currently a part of, the 16 Japanese ships, eight destroyers and eight transports, carrying 7,000 troops heading to Leigh, located on the coast of the rising sun-occupied part of the Australian territory of New Guinea. After all, some B-17s have previously followed and harassed them in recent days. So now, with the sky clearing, the general is heading back to his cabin to consult with his officers on what they might do if trouble does indeed come.

But unfortunately for him, trouble is, in fact, already here. Only minutes later, sirens blair, calling the Toki Sukhasa's crew to battle stations. Among the Allied aircraft, P-38 lightnings descend, unleashing strafing fire on the destroyer, as B-17 flying forthwithes to be 14, flying forth. drop bombs. But even as zeros take to the sky and engage the Americans and Australians, this is far from the worst of the Japanese. American B-25 Mitchell bombers in A-20s comes zooming down toward the water. They drop their bombs, but not on the Japanese worship. Rather, they drop their bombs into water, but in a way that caused them to skip across like a kid tossing a stone. And this skipbombing works. The Toki Sukhasa shudders.

as the skip bomb slammed into it. The Battle of Bismarck Sea, as this March 2nd through 4th, 1943 attack on Japan's Operation 81 convoy comes to be known, is a decisive American victory. Between the lag up with Intel and skip bombing, the Americans and Australians take out all eight transports,

four of the destroyers, and kill a minimum of 3,000 Japanese men. According to Douglas MacArthur, the Battle of Bismarck's Sea is, quote, complete and annihilating combats of all time. Close quote. Yet, even with this most complete victory,

the core problem of Japanese entrenchment in the Pacific still present. From the perspective of the U.S. Navy's nearly all-powerful commander-in-chief of the U.S. fleet and chief of naval operations, Comanche slash C&O Ernie King, the only way America can succeed against the Japanese is to break free from Britain's Europe-first policy and really bring itself to bear in the Pacific. As we know from episode 201,

President Franklin Roosevelt and British Prime Minister Winston Churchill meet in Washington, D.C., in May of 1943, for their third conference, codenamed Trident Conference. Here, they agree that the questions of where to go after the invasion of Sicily are simply questions of emphasis and priority. Well, in the days to come, the 20 chiefs of staff, including Admiral Ernie King and General George Marshall, are at each other's throats trying to figure out where their combined

emphasis and priorities lie. And these men are all tired, tired of meetings, tired of this conference, even tired of each other. British Army Chief of Staff, Field Marshal, Sir Alan Brooke, sums it up quite nicely in his May 17th diary entry, which reads, Another very disappointing day. Again, discussion of global strategy, let us nowhere.

And of course it did. Winston and his boys still want their Germany-first policy, viewing Japan as an afterthought, to be dealt with after the fascist duo of Germany and Italy are handled, while Americans like Comich slash C&O Ernie King are tired of treating the imperial threat at Uncle Sam's Pacific door that silently struck them at Pearl Harbor like a second-tier concern. He wants to strike hard in the Pacific. Now. Fed up with the indecision on May 21st.

64-year-old Ernie makes his position clear to the other mostly balding and white-haired men. Since the decrease in the scale of activity in the Solomon's area, Japan has not given any definite indication of where she will strike next. Her reserve potentialities are certainly great enough to permit offensive action. It is, therefore, necessary to maintain and extend unremitting pressure against Japan, particularly by intensifying action to cut her lines of communication and to attain positions of readiness from which a full-scale offensive

can be launched as soon as the full resources of the United Nations can be made available. Okay, Ernie, strong words. And just what are those positions of readiness? Well, Ernie has identified the Mariana Islands because of their geographical proximity to Japan. An allied position there could eventually be the launching point for a devastating air, sea, or land attack

against the island nation, effectively ending the war. To quote him again, the ultimate defeat of Japan will be accomplished by blockade, bombing, and assault, close quote. But before this final objective, the Allies have a few key steps along the way. One is bolstering their support of China.

We'll talk more about China in the next episode, but for now, just know that the Americans are as anxious to see a second front against the Japanese as the British are to have a second front against the Germans. and the British are as cagey about putting more resources into that second front as the Americans are into opening the second front in Italy. Another is controlling those crucial territories of the South Pacific, the Marshall, Caroline, and Solomon Islands, as well as New Guinea.

It's a big ask. It's almost certain to pull troops away from Europe, and the way Ernie King's written up his plan, it seems like a request for a blank check to the Pacific. By the end of the Trident Conference, the combined chiefs agree to the Comich slash C&O's plan, so long as they get final say on the battle plans. Ernie is delighted.

The British? Less so. They grumble afterwards, complaining that the conference elevated the Japanese access to a place of prominence in the overall strategic picture. Well, yes, that's exactly the point. Finally, American priorities are being given the same focus as Britain's.

And this colossal win, This is exactly why the U.S. Navy puts up with Ernie King and his drinking, womanizing, and gruff demeanor. But now, words have to be put into action. And no one loves action as much as General Douglas MacArthur. Ah, Supreme Commander of Allied Forces in the Southwest Pacific Area, Douglas MacArthur. Let's catch up with the pipe-loving Army commander. Following the victory at Guadalcanal in February, 1943, Doug has been working on a plan to move north of New Guinea, eventually to recapture the Philippines.

No surprise there. His impassioned promise to return and avenge the battling bastards of Baton in episode 197 is still very much at the forefront of his mind. To that end, as Doug and Admiral William Bull Halsey bonded and became best buds at a three-day conference back in mid-April, they also drafted Operation Cartwheel. This plan calls for 13 amphibious landings over six months, focused on Doug's theater of the Southwest Pacific, which, as established earlier, is separated from Admiral Chester Nimitz's Central Pacific. The thinking is that,

if the Allies can establish strong points along New Guinea's surrounding islands and cities, they can then launch a devastating attack on the Japanese stronghold at Rabal. Oh, and it's on. The first attack in Operation. cartwheel happens between the night of June 29th and 30th, 1943. With Admiral William Bull Halsey at the top of the command chain, the Americans hit Munda Point Airfield on New Georgia and the Solomon Islands. Moving out from Guadalcanal, 6,000 Marines strike under the

cover of darkness to catch Japanese troops by surprise at sunrise, and other cities on New Georgia fall quickly to the American-led forces. But the Yank's good fortune stops there. Entrenched Japanese troops take a pound of flesh for every inch gained in the movement toward the island's airbase. The Americans won't secure Munda Point until August, 1943. Time simultaneously with Boles Munda action, Doug turns his attention to the two Japanese-held ports on the Huong Gulf coast of New Guinea, Lai and Salamawa. They employ a clever ruse. Rather than attack Laii directly, they push toward Salamawa first, tricking the Japanese into Russian reinforcements there. thus weakening Laii, the very port where the Japanese lost so many men to skip bombing just months ago.

And it's with the Rising Sun Empire's defenders spread thin, that the American-led forces springed their trap. On September 4th, Australian troops land east of Laii. The next day, September 5th, Doug MacArthur watches from a B-17 as the 5003rd parachute infantry regiment drops from the sky to seize the airstrip at nearby Nadsab. He later reports that, Everything went like clockwork. Australian forces then fly in, using the airstrip, and pressed toward Lai from the interior. Caught in a pincere between the coast and the mountains, the Japanese withdraw. Salamawa falls on September 11th.

Leighi follows on September 16th. The Americans now have a solid new base on New Guinea itself. It's then on to the next. More cities, more islands, and more casualties, all in the lead-up to the ultimate goal. capturing the city of Rabal. But the joint chiefs of staff have an idea. Maybe the base can be neutralized instead of captured. See, the number of troops necessary to capture the city would be astronomical.

So why not isolate it instead, thus making it effectively worthless to the Japanese at a fraction of the cost of blood and treasure? Doug disagrees. He feels that the base at Rabal needs to be taken out. Otherwise, it can continue to cause trouble as he tries to push northward to the Philippines. and eventually to Japan itself. Nonetheless, at the Quadrant Conference, the higher-ups make the word official. They want Rabal neutralized, not taken. Doug originally doesn't like this neutralizing strategy made official by his superiors,

alternatively known as bypassing, or as he puts it, leapfrogging. But he comes around. In fact, he later takes credit for the idea, writing in his memoir, reminiscences, Quote, it was the practical application of this system of warfare to avoid the frontal attack with its terrible loss of life, to bypass the Japanese strong points, to thus isolate their armies and starve them on the battlefield, close quote. He then describes his new battle style with a quote often attributed to the famously short, turn of the century, Baltimore Orioles right fielder, Wee Willie Keeler, hit him where they ain't.

Now, might we alternatively call this approach, island hopping? The two terms will get used interchangeably down the road, but Doug considers leapfrogging distinctly different in 1943. He tells the press that, my strategic conception for the Pacific Theater, which I outlined after the Papuan campaign and have since consistently advocated, contemplates massive strokes against only main strategic objectives, utilizing surprise and airground striking power supported and assisted by the fleet. This is the very opposite of what is termed island hopping, which is the gradual pushing back of the enemy by direct frontal pressure with the consequent heavy casualties, which will certainly be involved. The key points must,

of course, be taken, but a wise choice of such will obviate the need for storming the mass of islands now in enemy possession. Island hopping, with extravagant losses and slow progress, is not my idea of how to end the war as soon and as cheaply as possible. Hmm. Now, here's the real question. Is Doug, the pipe-loving general, whom we just caught stretching the truth to take credit for the idea of leapfrogging? Now, leaping to overstate his genius in the Southwest Pacific, perhaps to contrast himself against Admiral Chester Nimitz in the Central Pacific? Is he casting Chester as the backward, quote-unquote, island hopper? We're going to let this question sit for the moment, because right now, We need to hit pause on the American military advance to take note of yet another trick the allies have up their sleeve. Well, perhaps not so much a trick for the enemy as a morale-boosting treat for the troops. Rumor has it that the First Lady of the United States is coming to tour the South Pacific.

On August 17, 1944, Eleanor Roosevelt sets out on her second wartime Goodwill Tour. Back in 1942, she had an incredibly successful trip to Great Britain, but now she's upping the ante. Flotus is heading to the South Pacific. This includes Australia, New Zealand, and a place we've come to know well in recent episodes, the Solomon Islands. Admittedly, FDR has some nerves about his wife going to the Solomon Islands, particularly to Guadal Canal, which is still being bombed in the summer of 1943. But ultimately, he concedes to her tour, if it did not interfere,

with the conduct of the war. She'll serve as a representative for both the White House and the Red Cross. Official business kicks off in Australia on September 3rd with a speech in Canberra. The First Lady declares her intentions, letting listeners know that she's here, quote, not in any sense as an official ambassador dress, close quote, but rather for two purposes, as she goes on, to see our boys who are in this theater and to learn as much as I can of the work which your women have been and are doing in the war effort so that I may take home that

knowledge to our women in America. While she's traveling, she'll keep up her daily column, My Day, for the newspapers back stateside, with a slight delay, of course. She doesn't want to publish her real-time locations, perhaps especially since she's managed to convince Admiral William Bull Halsey to allow her a trip to Guadalcanal. Oh, don't get me wrong. Bull's nervous, particularly given that the island was bombed just the day before she arrives. But then again, there's no stopping Eleanor. It's just after 6 a.m. on a mid-September morning, 1943. Having just landed, Eleanor Roosevelt is still at Guadalcanal's airfield,

enjoying breakfast with two others. Her travel companion, the region's American Red Cross supervisor Marie Coletta Ryan, who goes by Colletta, and the airfield's commanding officer. As the three finish up, other senior officers come to take the two women on a tour of the newly established American base. American soldiers, sailors, and Marines are quite surprised to see Eleanor on their far-off island in the Pacific. That's understandable. One says in a stentorian tone, gosh, there's Eleanor! Over hearing and laughing, the First Lady and Coletta waved back and now delighted men.

As they travel around this morning, Eleanor is delighted to, to see, quote, all the improvements which have been made since this part of the island came into our possession, close quote. But she'll never forget the stop at Guadalcanal Cemetery. As she'll later write, it was very moving to walk among the graves and realized how united these boys had been in spite of differences in religion and background. The boy's mess kit, or sometimes his helmet, hung on the cross which some friend would have carved with the appropriate symbol of the Jewish or Catholic or Protestant faith. Words that came from the heart were carved on the base, such as,

he was a grand guy, best buddy ever. The cemeteries carefully tended, and flags wave over the graves. Deeply touched, Eleanor says a prayer for the growth of the human spirit, so that we may do away with force in settling disputes in the future. It's now later that evening. After a quick visit with a dear friend stationed on the island, a young Army weather observer named Joe Lash, and in early dinner, Eleanor is driving off to visit yet another hospital.

She intends to make it to every single one here on Guadalcanal. But war doesn't always allow for neatly followed plans. Suddenly, the air raid alert goes off. A military policeman on a motorcycle zooms by Flotus' vehicle, further announcing the raid. Heading into a shelter, the First Lady is accompanied by some patients on crutches. Others, however, aren't even phased. They see the alarm as a mere routine. They don't even seek shelter. But for

Eleanor, this is not an everyday activity. She'll later write in her diary. For a short time, there was a rather tense atmosphere, but somebody started to sing and we all joined in. When the all clear sounded, I went through the wards I had not covered before. I was much interested to see what the effects of the alert would be on those who could not leave their beds and go to the shelter. I saw only two men who were badly affected. One, a colored boy who lay turning his head from side to side and moaning, seemingly completely unconscious. A sweet little nurse sat beside him, trying to quiet him. The other was a white boy who paced the floor in a little room.

I tried to talk to him to change the current of his thoughts, but it was impossible and I finally had to give up. After finishing her rounds, Eleanor takes a bath in the guest cabin and collapses into bed, only to wake up at 4 a.m. the next morning and head back to his spiritu Santo. Hoof, an exhausting trip, but worth it. Eleanor Roosevelt leaves a lasting impact on the soldiers, sailors, and Marines. She meets in the Pacific Theater. As a proxy or personification of the nation,

Eleanor's presence makes the men feel seen, valued. And that valued feeling radiates from them to still others. That said, neither Admiral William Bull Halsey nor his buddy, General Doug MacArthur, are excited to have Eleanor in their theater. In fact, Bull says he dreaded it. On some visits, Doug assigns an aide, Robert White, to escort her. But Robert doesn't mind. He's quickly impressed by the First Lady, saying that, quote,

she wanted to see the things a mother would see. When she chatted with the men, she said things mothers say. Little things men never think of and couldn't put into words if they did, close quote. Now, Doug's never going to change his mind. Let's just say that he's not a Roosevelt fan in general. But Bull Halsey sure comes around. By the end of her trip, he's a complete convert and Eleanor ally. Praising her time, Bull writes,

When I say she inspected those hospitals, I don't mean that she shook hands with the chief medical officer glanced into a sun parlor and left. I mean that she went into every ward, stopped at every bed, and spoke to every patient. What was his name? How did he feel?

Was there anything he needed? Could she take a message home for him? I marveled at her heartyhood, both physical and mental. She walked for miles and saw patients who were grievously wounded. But I marveled most at their expressions as she leaned over them. It was a sight I will never forget. As Eleanor wraps up her morale-boosting tour in the Pacific in the early fall of 1943,

Emperor Hirohito is deeply displeased at the current state of the war. Fair enough. Japan evacuated Guadalcanal in February, lost the beloved Admiral, commander of the combined fleet, Yamamoto Isoroku in April, were wiped out on the Aitu Island in May and abandoned the last of Alaska's Aleutian Islands thereafter, leaving the Americans to find themselves in full possession of the island chain in August. The desperate for a decisive win emperor has only gotten Pyrrhic victories over the summer. He's also frustrated to learn his Italian ally has crumbled in the wake of the invasion of Sicily.

I mean, one might argue that losing Ilducci's Italian forces as allies is almost a win, given their track record, but I digress. The point is that the emperor is frustrated and expects his brass to get that sun rising again. Heading into a meeting with his military minds, Hirohito remarks to General Sugiyama Hajima, when and where on earth are you people ever going to put up a fight? After suffering all these defeats, why don't you study how not to let the Americans keep saying, we won, we won. Yikes, sounds like the emperor is downright livid.

But their sake, his advisors better come up with something good. Fast. It's September 30, 1943. Inside the Japanese imperial palaces, elegantly decorated headquarters, Prime Minister Tojo Hideki and military and government leaders take their seats along two silk covered tables placed below a sparkling chandelier. At the front of the room, framed by a gold screen, is the Shoah Emperor himself, Chirohito. The men have assembled for a Gyoza Naiigi,

or formal imperial conference. All right, time out. If this room sounds familiar to you, then you've really been paying attention. We've been here before, back on December 1st, 1941, in episode 1,93, where we saw many of these same men give their reasons for the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor. But the nearly two years that have passed since then have been hard. Everyone has felt the passage of that time and the growing stress of this war that's turning against them. Even the dark-haired to be spectacled and thinly mustachioed emperor in his military uniform.

Okay, that noted, back to our story. Privy Council President Haray Yoshimichi speaks on Hirohito's behalf, asking the PM a series of questions. Tojo was forced to admit that, of the 40,000 aircraft planned for next year, 1944, the present output is more likely 17 to 18,000. Huh, not a great opener. The darkly moustachioed Privy Council President turns to the jowled and bald Navy Chief of Staff, Admiral Nagano Osami, and asks if he is, quote, confident of securing the absolute defense perimeter, close quote. Badd. Admirals admits, I cannot assure the future of the war situation. This does not help the mood of the room. The Prime Minister interjects, reminding everyone

that, as the Imperial Rescript stated, this war is essentially for our self-defense and very self-existence. So whether Germany wins or is beaten, we have to fight on to the end, regardless of how the war situation may develop hereafter. Nothing has changed in our result to fight until we achieve our aims. It's a great pep talk. But what's the actual plan? That's where another bald Japanese Army General, Sugiyama Hygini, jumps in. The 63-year-old with a white mustache wants to define the vital territories that must be held,

basically meaning the territories Japan can't afford to lose. Whether speaking through an intermediary or breaking tradition in doing so directly, sources conflict. Emperor Hirohito does make his will known. He wants action. We should defend with aggressive airstrikes. That is what we want. More than a week ago, the military reported we are observing with vigilance. Observing with vigilance is useless.

We've got to attack. directly or indirectly, the emperor has spoken. And so, after the meeting, members of the Imperial Conference draft a formal policy, we shall establish a strategic posture to cope with the American-British offensive. Whenever the occasion presents, we shall capture and destroy the enemy's offensive forces. Huh, cope. And whenever the occasion presents are hardly the words of a confident military. All the same, Prime Minister,

Tojo's words mark the backbone of Japanese strategy. We have to fight on to the end, regardless of how the war situation may develop hereafter. To the end, it is then, on every small strip or speck of land. And right now, that means a particular speck within the Tarawa atoll of the Japanese-occupied British Gilbert Islands, the island of Baychio. In the fall of 1943, the Allies' focus shifts from General Douglas MacArthur's attack in New Guinea to Admiral Chester Nimitz's advance in the Central Pacific. While Doug is leapfrogging northward, again, a tale for another episode, more eyes are on Chester as he drives westward from the Gilbert Islands. The thinking here is twofold. One, carried out simultaneously to Doug's advance in the South Pacific, Chester's Central Pacific operations will

force Japan to spread itself thin. And two, the Gilbert Islands, a chain of 16 atolls just to the northeast of the Solomon Islands, will also provide airfields, bases, and supply lines for future allied launches toward the next target, the Mariana Islands. And that's significant, because the archipelago, that is the Marianas, lies farther north, or a touch northwest, even putting them just south of Japan itself. Thus, the Gilbert Islands are a crucial step, or might we say, leap, or hop, toward an ultimate victory in the taking of Tokyo. And that long chain of hopeful action brings us to America's current mark among the Gilbert Islands, the Tarawa Atoll's small, bird-shaped island, or is islet, rather, that makes for quite a prize because it already

has an airstrip. This is Baccio. It's a scary problem. It's a scary problem. There's no way to get on Baccio except through an amphibious assault, an assault getting planned with 19th century and even 18th century maps. Now we saw the Americans do exactly this on Guadal Canal in the last episode, true, but Japanese defense mechanisms are different here. Rather than fall back from the beaches, they've crafted an island fortress. The water's reefy edge is protected by mines, and the shores are defended by walls of palm logs. all the while sandbag-covered machine guns and concrete pillboxes filled with guns away anyone brave enough, or lucky enough, to get to shore.

And little do the Americans know. The Japanese are using the upcoming battle of Tarawa, as this engagement will be called, to try and hold off the Allied advance while still strengthening other defenses deeper in. They're under orders to, quote, withstand assault by a million men for a hundred years. close quote. And so, with the Japanese every bit as determined to hold, as the Americans are to take, the Marines of the 5th Amphibious Corps move out. It's about 10 in the sweltering hot morning, November 20, 1943. The dark and curly-haired, 34-year-old war correspondent for Time magazine, Robert Bob Chirot,

climbs aboard what he calls in Amptrath, along with some 15 Marines on the waters north of Vatio Island. The official name of this tank-like transport meant for carting men and equipment across beaches is an LVT, landing vehicle, tract. Notably, it was invented by the grandson of Washington and Emily Rowling. The husband and wife made the dream of a Brooklyn Bridge reality, as we know from episode 92. But Bob doesn't have the luxury of thinking of that iconic East River traversing work of art for the time being. Right now, he needs to pay attention to laughing waves. gunfire. Bob quivers as he takes his seat by a telephone operator. The young Marine can't help himself as he confesses to the war corps spawning. Oh God, I'm scared. Bob can only grit his teeth,

force a smile, and respond honestly. I'm scared too. Looking over the left side of his own anthraith track, Bob sees another LBT loaded with Marines about 300 yards away. Suddenly, a mortar shell hits the boat. Bob can see its resulting damage. The wide-eyed captain of his own Amtrak remarks to the shocked rider, it's hell in there. Bob, the telephone operator, and the other Marines in the LBT, are dropped off at an old rusty ship, stuck in the water, roughly 700 yards from shore. It's the best this captain can do. The Amtraks are essentially marine shuttles. They can't climb the seawall. Bob and the Marines climb over the side, jumping into the neck deep wall. water. Japanese machine guns immediately turn on small group, waiting through the high waters.

There's nothing to do but keep pushing along the submerged sand, slowly crossing the exhausting distance between them and cover. As Bob later recalled, Iowa was scared as I had never been scared before. I could have reached out and touched a hundred bullets. As to get closer to the beach, men split into groups of seven, going to the left and right. Bob follows the group, heading to a long pierced on coral rocks that provides some cover. But only four of the men make it there. After swimming, waiting, dodging bullets, and ducking behind a bulldozer for cover, Bob will never forget what he sees as he glances out from the pier.

As he'll put it in his soon-to-be published with telling, several hundred Marines had gotten over that seawall to try to kill the Japs, who were killing our men as they waited ashore. They went over, though they knew very well that their chances of becoming a casualty within an hour, or something like 50%. To say this is a hard day of sacrifice for the Marines is an understatement. With a slightly receded shoreline

due to the moderate neap tides, the often submerged but now exposed coral forces every wave of Marines to wade past the bodies of their comrades. Tanks, artillery, and supplies can't even make it over the reefs to help take out the Japanese embankments. A third of the first wave of Marines survives,

less than that of the second. and somehow even less still of the third. The water is literally red with blood. Captain Carl Hoffman later summarizes the day. There we were, 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. And Carl is right.

Through sheer force of will, bravery and indomitable spirit, 5,000 Marines are holding their designated landing spots on Basio by the end of the day. They wait quietly through the first night. As they do, the evening tide pulls the bodies of dead Marines to the shore. When the sunrises on November 21st, the stench of death wafts over the beach. Some Marines are only entering the battle this morning. Among these are Major Lawrence Hayes First Battalion. They drop near Red Beach, too, on the central north of Basio Island.

the breast of the bird, if you will. But as Guadalcanal Hero, Red Mike Edson puts it, it was the worst possible place they could have picked. No kidding. Watching from yesterday's precariously captured shores, Bob Sherrod will later describe the slaughter as transport boats bring more Marines to the blood-soaked beach. One boat blows up, then another.

The survivors start swimming for shore, but machine gun bullets dot the water all around them. This is worse, far worse than it was yesterday. To remedy this situation will require a special group, a scout sniper platoon of the second Marines, led by a young, dark-haired lieutenant with a thin mustache named William Dean Hawkins, or Hawk, as his Marines call him. This specially trained crew has already made a name for themselves on the island. Yesterday, Hawk and his crack team of Shockman landed 15 minutes before anyone else to clear out

the machine guns on that pier that we saw Bob Sherrod take cover under. Hawk was rewarded with shrapnel and his shoulder. The doctor couldn't remove it, so the lieutenant told him to, forget it, and picked up his rifle to resume the fight. Well, speaking of resuming, it's time to get back to the battle. It's still early morning, November 21st, 1943, and a rough morning at that, the Second Marine's first lieutenant, William Dean Hawkins, or Hawke. The mustachioed officer and his men are attempting to take out Japanese strongpoints, firing on Major Lawrence Hayes' first battalion of the 8th Marines. Hawk leads his men along the beaches,

charging toward a series of pillboxes where the Japanese are firing upon the struggling, thinning the first battalion. Ignoring the shrapnel still in his shoulder, Hawk attacks the first pillbox. He runs up close, then drops to the ground and crawls right alongside the concrete guard coast. Seeing an opening, he takes his rifle and fires directly at the assuredly surprised Japanese soldiers

before chucking grenades in to finish the job. With one down, Hawk moves to the next pillbox. Same idea. Grenades right down the throat. He takes out at least three pillboxes this way. Running to the next, Hawk is suddenly struck through the chest. Machine gun fire has finally caught his brazen Texan. But was a gunshot through the chest

for the already shrapnel filled first lieutenant? Hawk continues on, destroying three more pillboxes. But even the bravest Marines remain mortal. As the fighting continues, an explosive shell catches Hawk in the shoulder. It severs an artery. Despite the best efforts of the medical corps, the courageous lieutenant has fought his last battle.

Hawk doesn't survive the night. The death of William Dean Hawkins is felt by many. Colonel David Shoup will later write, it's not often that you can credit a first lieutenant with winning a battle. But Hawkins came as near as any man could. The fallen Marine's mother will accept his posthumous Medal of Honor from President Roosevelt. After the ceremony, Sergeant Jack Gordon tells newspapers, about all you can say is that Mrs. Hawkins lost a son, the nation lost a hero,

and the Marine Corps lost a Marine. But Hawk's sacrifice is not in vain. Back on the Tarawa atoll, this bloody, deadly battle concludes two days later in an American victory. Yet even with complete control of the beach, a deadly task remains for the yanks, clearing out the remaining Japanese troops who refuse to surrender. Yes, these troops have the same fight-to-the-death thinking that fueled the bonsai attacks we saw in episode 208, and the result is another horrific loss of life. Of the 4,800 Japanese defenders on the island at this battle start, only 17 are taken alive. And American losses are also horrific.

297 Marines and 30 sailors are dead. 88 Marines are missing. 2,292 Marines and sailors are wounded. It's as many casualties in 76 hours as Guadalcanal counted in six months. With war correspondents like Bob Sherrod on the ground, detailed descriptions flood the media. President Franklin Roosevelt personally authorizes the release of With the Marines at Tarawa, a Warner Brothers edited short documentary with striking images of

American dead on the beach. It's so graphic that even the military was planning to withhold it from the public. With the Marines of Tarawa is striking. It will win an Academy Award in 1945. But unlike the films of Frank Capra that we caught in episode 206, it doesn't stir the nation's sense of patriotism and steal American resolve. Rather, it leaves the public greeting. Angry. Americans question, what exactly was so strategically important about that island. Why let so many young American boys die for a small speck of dirt in the Pacific? One mother even goes so far as to write to Admiral Chester Nimitz, blaming him for the seemingly avoidable loss of life, saying,

You killed my son on Tarawa. Ah, right. Whether it's fair to Chester or not, this is the devastating loss. America is suffering in the Pacific that Douglas MacArthur sought to distance himself from through his delineation. between leapfrogging and island hopping. Upon later reflection, many will conclude that, yes, the Tarawa atoll and its blood-soaked islet of Basio could have been leaped over. But that is 2020 hindsight, viewed without the pressure of real-time decisions or of the Comich slash C&O Ernie King demanding action. The other side of the costly coin, that is the Battle of Tarawa, is the realization that, whether leaping or hopping, every Pacific island taken from Japan will

require paying the price of many pounds of flesh. As General Alexander Vandigriff puts it, of course it was costly. We all knew it would be, for war is costly. Meanwhile, the American public is slowly coming to terms with the realities of war. As the New York Times editorial argues on December 27th in 1943, Japanese resistance on Tarwa Atoll was a painful surprise. No matter how carefully we plan the operation, we must steal ourselves now to pay that price. Yet, the Battle of Tarawa is a clear victory, one that indicates the Japanese can be beaten back from even the most entrenched islands. This macabre scene also teaches the U.S. invaluable lessons about how to best carry out amphibious landings. You know, I think that one day soon, that knowledge

might even come in handy outside the Pacific Theater. But we aren't leaving the Pacific Theater at this point. Not just yet. Next time, we'll pick up with Doug MacArthur's story and leap closer still to Japan. And will his leaping mean if you're dead? I expect you already know the answer. Nonetheless, we'll find out next time. History That Doesn't Suck is created and hosted by Greg Jackson.

Episode researched and written by Greg Jackson and William King. Executive editor, Riley Newmower. Special thanks to Dr. Gail King for her Japanese primary source translation. Production by Airship. Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzai. Sound design by Molly Bach. Theme music composed by Greg Jackson. Arrangement and additional composition by Lindsay Grant of Ayrshire.

For a bibliography of all primary and secondary sources consulted in writing this episode, visit hdDSpodcast.com. H.DDS is supported by fans at HGDSPodcast.com slash membership. My gratitude to you kind souls providing funding helps keep going. Thank you. And special thanks to our patrons, whose monthly gift puts them at producer status. Adam Goering. Authenton.

Anthony Henson. Andrew Sherwin. Anna M. Huttah, Bart Lane, Bob Stinton, Bonnie Brooks, Brian Gattigan, Brian Goodson, Bruce Hibbert, Hayden, Hades, Charles Clandinan, Charles Starkey, Charlie Magus. Christopher Merchant. Christopher Leasel. Christopher Pullman. Cindy Rosen. Colleen-Farren Fares Pennington. Conorne. Conn. Craig Burrhoast. Dan G. Daniel Beecham. Daniel O'Connie. Darren Chamborne. David Rifkin. Dean Heiser. Grante Spencer. Donald Moore. Ely Edwards. Elizabeth Christ J. J. J. J. J. J. J. J. Jorway. G. G. G. GERriffin. G. G. G. Gawood. G. G. Gawood.

Henry Brunges, Holly Hamilton, Jake Gilbert, James Bledsoe, James Blue, James Schlender, Jarrett Zongora, Jeffrey Moots, Jennifer Mingeone, Jennifer Roof, Jeremy Wells, Jessica Poppet, Joe Dobis, John Fugel Doogle, John Huber, John Meshmer, John Ruebvre, John Rolavich, John Schaefer, Jonathan Schaff, Jordan Corbett, Joseph Curry, Joshua Steiner, Julian Wright, Justin May, Carl and Elizabeth Salie, Carl Friedman, Carl Hindle, Carl Romer, Ken Culver, Kim R, Kristen Pratt, Kyle Decker, L. Paul Goreger, Laura Norman, Lawrence Newbauer, Linda Cunningham, Mark Ellis, Marsha Smith, Mason Glenn, Matt Siegel, Michael Sullivan, Mick Capprell, O'NW Sedlock, Peter Hugonoff, Philip May, Randy Keane, Rich Ruckel, Rick Brown, Robert Drazovic, Rock Day, Sam Holtzman, Sarah Traywick, Scott Hurst, Shannon Hoagland, Sharon Theson, Sean Baines, Sean Collins, Stacey

Steve Williams Creepy Girl Thomas Churchill Thomas Matthew Edwards Thomas Sabbath Tim and Sarah Turner Todd Curran Tom Bostofka

Walter M. Ames Wesley McHage and Zach Jackson Join me in two weeks where I'd like to tell you a story