Nor could the Marines of VMF-221 (bound for Wake) have been counted on as an effective adjunct to Saratoga’s squadron, since they had not operated from a carrier. An even more compelling argument for how VMF-221 would have performed in the emergency is that Major General Ross Rowell, commanding the 2d Marine Aircraft Wing, knowing of 221’s manpower and operational deficiencies, lamented having to send “[Major Verne] McCaul’s half-baked outfit into that mess.” Rowell knew that maintaining the temperamental Brewster F2A-3 Buffalo fighters at a stateside air base with all the conveniences had been a chore—let alone having to operate the F2A-3 at an advance base (especially one that had been so badly cut-up as Wake had been) or at sea on a carrier (where the F2A’s performance—especially with landing gear failures—was nearly infamous).
And, too, the three carriers committed to the relief expedition were all there were in the Pacific. There were no reserves. Even though the Japanese harbored no ideas of conquest of Hawaii at that time—they were through with Oahu for the time being—Pye and his advisors had no way of knowing that. What intelligence existed pointed toward a potential disaster for an island where the issue was, as Cunningham correctly perceived, very much in doubt!
When asked in 1970 if the relief expedition’s arrival would have made any difference in the outcome at Wake, retired Brigadier General Devereux answered: “I rather doubt that that particular task force, with its size and composition, could have been very effective.... I think it was wise ... to pull back.”
‘All Hands Have Behaved Splendidly’
Shortly before 1600 on 20 December, scrutinized by Wake Island’s only serviceable F4F, a Consolidated PBY Catalina flying boat bearing mail landed in the lagoon. It arrived in the midst of a rain squall, but the defenders welcomed the precipitation because it worsened the flying weather and inhibited the Japanese bombing efforts. Commander Keene’s sailors moored the Catalina and fueled it for the next morning’s flight.
As “Barney” Barninger observed, the flying boat’s arrival “set the island on end with scuttlebutt.” Most men surmised that the civilians would be evacuated. The scuttlebutt was partially correct. From the secret orders carried on board the PBY, Cunningham learned that he was to prepare all but 350 civilians (those to be selected “by specific trades to continue the more important of the projects,” one of which was the completion of the ship channel between Wake and Wilkes) for evacuation. He was also notified that fire control, radar, and other equipment was being sent, along with reinforcements of both men and machinery.
That day, Commander Cunningham recounted the events which had occurred to date in a report to Rear Admiral Bloch. Although many air raids had occurred, he reported, that most had resulted in few casualties and little damage to installations. He attributed Wake’s escape from more serious damage to the effectiveness of the Marines’ antiaircraft fire—fire delivered despite the lack of fire control equipment. A former fighter pilot, he also lavished unstinting praise on VMF-211’s aviators, who had “never failed to push home attacks against heavy fire.” That none of the planes had been shot down, he marvelled, “is a miracle.”
The representative of the Bureau of the Budget, Herman P. Hevenor, who had arrived on Wake via the Clipper on 7 December to check the progress of construction on the atoll and review the expenditures, wrote to the Bureau telling them of the siege to that point and praising those who led the defense. “The Commanding Officer [Cunningham] and his staff, including the Marine Officers, have done a big job and an efficient one. Their stand against the Japs has been marvelous and they deserve everything our Government can give them....”
Major Putnam dashed off a report of VMF-211’s operations to Lieutenant Colonel Claude A. Larkin, commanding officer of Marine Aircraft Group (MAG) 21. After recounting the losses of both planes and men suffered by his squadron, and the damage he felt his men had inflicted upon the enemy, Putnam wrote that a large share of the squadron’s records had been destroyed on the first day, and since then, “parts and assemblies have been traded back and forth so that no airplane can be identified. Engines have been traded from plane to plane, have been junked, stripped, rebuilt, and all but created.” Practically all of 211’s gear had been destroyed. Quartermaster property lay scattered about, wholly unaccounted for.