The Old Breed

Chapter 5

Yellow Beach 1, Cape Gloucester

December 26th, 1943

H-hour was, for us, at 1300. The 7th Marines had landed on Cape Gloucester earlier in the morning, and we had all been awakened by the naval barrage that the Navy provided for them, which went on for an hour and a half, starting before dawn. From our vantage point, it hadn't looked like the 7th was taking anything heavy, but we were preparing for a hell of a fight if it was going to turn out that way.

"Let's load up, boys!" Lieutenant Armstrong yelled, waving his arm in a circular motion, as we began climbing down the netting on the side of our transport to the LCVP (Landing Craft Vehicle Personnel) bobbing below. The LCVPs, or more commonly known as Higgins boats, could fit nearly an entire platoon in them, and aside from one mortar team, who were transferred over to a weapons company LCVP, 1st Platoon, my platoon, was all in one boat.

As part of 1st squad, I was going down the rope netting first. The netting could take four guys side-to-side, and I was up with Lanky, Rocky, and Hammer. When I looked over the side of the ship, I found that the distance to the water seemed a lot farther away than it used to look.

"Remember what I told you, kid! Leave it all behind! All of it!" Hammer said, putting a hand down on my shoulder. I wanted to check over my gear again, make sure I wasn't forgetting anything. Blankets, socks, shaving kit, bayonet, battle dressings, canteen with its cup and cover, shelter half and tent poles, entrenching tool, weapon cleaning kit, Ka-Bar, extra pair of dungarees, more skivvies and socks, K-rations and D-rations... I could have forgotten any of those things, and any of those might be needed, but as Armstrong kept yelling, I realized there was no time. I looked down at my body too. I had my boots on, I was wearing my dungarees, my combat pack was on my back, I had my cartridge belt around my waist, canteen and first aid kit hanging from the belt, my rifle strapped around my back, and my helmet, fastened, on my head. I was as ready as I could be.

"Let's go, Marines!" Armstrong shouted.

I swung around over the railing, fastening my feet into the thick ropes so I wouldn't fall. At this height, the water would break your bones if you were lucky, kill you if you weren't. With the amount of gear we had, we'd probably just sink like a weight to the bottom of the sea. Equally as pleasant a thought, you could fall right into the LCVP, which would be a hell of an impact, or if you fell between the LCVP and our transport ship...

"Leave it all behind!" Hammer yelled one more time, and we began climbing down. The ropes were wet with sea spray, and I had to pause multiple times to readjust my grip. One time I paused for too long and a boot from the guy above me came down on my helmet.

"Move it, Marine!" I heard Nelson yell. I was careful not to stop for too long after that. Although it felt like a long time, I soon found my boots hitting the metal deck of our landing craft. We pushed up to the front, making more space for the guys behind us, and the boat kept filling up as a trail of men came down the ropes.

Armstrong was the last one to enter our Higgins boat, and the thud of our boots on the wooden floor was all that could be heard for a moment. Besides the waves hitting the sides of our boat and the transport ship alongside us. A few men were breathing heavy, some whispering prayers, a lot just silently thinking to themselves. The lack of resistance the 7th Marines had found going in made things a little calmer, but it still seemed scary in a way.

The skipper of the LCVP tapped on the shoulder of one of the gunners, said something, and then started pulling away from the ship. Lieutenant Armstrong pushed his way to the front of the Higgins boat. Waves were rocking the small boat, and the lieutenant almost tripped, a Marine catching him, Armstrong being careful to keep a hand against the wall to steady himself after that.