Communications on board Maryland were gradually restored to working order in the hours following the battleship’s early morning duel with Betio’s coast defense batteries. On board the flagship, General Julian Smith tried to make sense out of the intermittent and frequently conflicting messages coming in over the command net. At 1018 he ordered Colonel Hall to “chop” Major Robert H. Ruud’s LT 3/8 to Shoup’s CT Two. Smith further directed Hall to begin boating his regimental command group and LT 1/8 (Major Lawrence C. Hays, Jr.), the division reserve. At 1036, Smith reported to V Amphibious Corps: “Successful landing on Beaches Red Two and Three. Toehold on Red One. Am committing one LT from Division reserve. Still encountering strong resistance throughout.”
LtGen Julian C. Smith Collection
LVT-1 49 (“My Deloris”), the first vehicle to reach Betio’s shore, lies in her final resting place amid death and destruction, including a disabled LVT-2 from a follow-on assault wave. This photo was taken after D-Day. Maintenance crews attempted to salvage “My Deloris” during the battle, moving her somewhat eastward from the original landing point on “the bird’s beak,” but she was too riddled with shell holes to operate. After the battle, “My Deloris” was sent to the United States as an exhibit for War Bond drives. The historic vehicle is now at the Tracked Vehicle Museum at Camp DelMar, California.
Colonel Shoup at this time was in the middle of a long odyssey trying to get ashore. He paused briefly for this memorable exchange of radio messages with Major Schoettel.
0959: (Schoettel to Shoup) “Receiving heavy fire all along beach. Unable to land all. Issue in doubt.”
1007: (Schoettel to Shoup) “Boats held up on reef of right flank Red 1. Troops receiving heavy fire in water.”
1012: (Shoup to Schoettel) “Land Beach Red 2 and work west.”
1018: (Schoettel to Shoup) “We have nothing left to land.”
When Shoup’s LCVP was stopped by the reef, he transferred to a passing LVT. His party included Lieutenant Colonel Evans F. Carlson, already a media legend for his earlier exploits at Makin and Guadalcanal, now serving as an observer, and Lieutenant Colonel Presley M. Rixey, commanding 1st Battalion, 10th Marines, Shoup’s artillery detachment. The LVT made three attempts to land; each time the enemy fire was too intense. On the third try, the vehicle was hit and disabled by plunging fire. Shoup sustained a painful shell fragment wound in his leg, but led his small party out of the stricken vehicle and into the dubious shelter of the pier. From this position, standing waist-deep in water, surrounded by thousands of dead fish and dozens of floating bodies, Shoup manned his radio, trying desperately to get organized combat units ashore to sway the balance.
For awhile, Shoup had hopes that the new Sherman tanks would serve to break the gridlock. The combat debut of the Marine medium tanks, however, was inauspicious on D-Day. The tankers were valorous, but the 2d Marine Division had no concept of how to employ tanks against fortified positions. When four Shermans reached Red Beach Three late in the morning of D-Day, Major Crowe simply waved them forward with orders to “knock out all enemy positions encountered.” The tank crews, buttoned up under fire, were virtually blind. Without accompanying infantry they were lost piecemeal, some knocked out by Japanese 75mm guns, others damaged by American dive bombers.
Six Shermans tried to land on Red Beach One, each preceded by a dismounted guide to warn of underwater shell craters. The guides were shot down every few minutes by Japanese marksmen; each time another volunteer would step forward to continue the movement. Combat engineers had blown a hole in the seawall for the tanks to pass inland, but the way was now blocked with dead and wounded Marines. Rather than run over his fellow Marines, the commander reversed his column and proceeded around the “bird’s beak” towards a second opening blasted in the seawall. Operating in the turbid waters now without guides, four tanks foundered in shell holes in the detour. Inland from the beach, one of the surviving Shermans engaged a plucky Japanese light tank. The Marine tank demolished its smaller opponent, but not before the doomed Japanese crew released one final 37mm round, a phenomenal shot, right down the barrel of the Sherman.