Marines and sailors traveling on board a troop transport receive their initial briefing on the landing plan for Betio.
Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 101807
The second and third waves of LVT-2s, protected only by 3/8-inch boiler plate hurriedly installed in Samoa, suffered even more intense fire. Several were destroyed spectacularly by large-caliber antiboat guns. Private First Class Newman M. Baird, a machine gunner aboard one embattled vehicle, recounted his ordeal: “We were 100 yards in now and the enemy fire was awful damn intense and getting worse. They were knocking [LVTs] out left and right. A tractor’d get hit, stop, and burst into flames, with men jumping out like torches.” Baird’s own vehicle was then hit by a shell, killing the crew and many of the troops. “I grabbed my carbine and an ammunition box and stepped over a couple of fellas lying there and put my hand on the side so’s to roll over into the water. I didn’t want to put my head up. The bullets were pouring at us like a sheet of rain.”
U.S. Navy Combat Art Collection
“Down the Net,” a sketch by Kerr Eby.
On balance, the LVTs performed their assault mission fully within Julian Smith’s expectations. Only eight of the 87 vehicles in the first three waves were lost in the assault (although 15 more were so riddled with holes that they sank upon reaching deep water while seeking to shuttle more troops ashore). Within a span of 10 minutes, the LVTs landed more than 1,500 Marines on Betio’s north shore, a great start to the operation. The critical problem lay in sustaining the momentum of the assault. Major Holland’s dire predictions about the neap tide had proven accurate. No landing craft would cross the reef throughout D-Day.
Shoup hoped enough LVTs would survive to permit wholesale transfer-line operations with the boats along the edge of the reef. It rarely worked. The LVTs suffered increasing casualties. Many vehicles, afloat for five hours already, simply ran of gas. Others had to be used immediately for emergency evacuation of wounded Marines. Communications, never good, deteriorated as more and more radio sets suffered water damage or enemy fire. The surviving LVTs continued to serve, but after about 1000 on D-Day, most troops had no other option but to wade ashore from the reef, covering distances from 500 to 1,000 yards under well-aimed fire.
Marines of Major Schoettel’s LT 3/2 were particularly hard hit on Red Beach One. Company K suffered heavy casualties from the re-entrant strongpoint on the left. Company I made progress over the seawall along the “bird’s beak,” but paid a high price, including the loss of the company commander, Captain William E. Tatom, killed before he could even debark from his LVT. Both units lost half their men in the first two hours. Major Michael P. “Mike” Ryan’s Company L, forced to wade ashore when their boats grounded on the reef, sustained 35 percent casualties. Ryan recalled the murderous enfilading fire and the confusion. Suddenly, “one lone trooper was spotted through the fire and smoke scrambling over a parapet on the beach to the right,” marking a new landing point. As Ryan finally reached the beach, he looked back over his shoulder. “All [I] could see was heads with rifles held over them,” as his wading men tried to make as small a target as possible. Ryan began assembling the stragglers of various waves in a relatively sheltered area along Green Beach.