The night of August 17, when the Marines landed on Makin Island, was dark and rainy. The surf was high. Captain James N. M. Davis of Evanston, Ill. lost his pants in the waves. Major James Roosevelt of Washington, second in command to Lieut. Colonel Evans F. Carlson, cut his left index finger on a piece of coral. But the Marines, their faces and hands daubed green to blend with the foliage, all got ashore.
First on the beach was Lieut. Wilfred S. Le-François of Watertown, N.Y., with his assault detachment. He and his men had 20 quiet minutes on the island, while rain beat their faces and they edged through the tall palms. Then the Japs discovered them and let loose with a machine gun. Five bullets bore into Lieut. Le-François' left shoulder. He and his men returned the fire and went on.
In the meantime Colonel Carlson had led the main group of Marines toward the heart of the island. They crept into several shacks, found them empty except for such things as a piano and a roll of sacred music (the Marines found no trace of several Catholic nuns who had been on the islands). The clatter of the Jap machine gun, firing at Lieut. Le-François, first told Colonel Carlson that his landing had been detected. Then the Marines heard the hard chatter of truck and motorcycle engines, the flat crack of snipers' bullets from the palms. One by one the snipers were killed, but they did not fall from the trees. For many days, so the handsome and friendly Polynesians on the island told Colonel Carlson, the Japs had been strapped into the trees, occasionally receiving food and water from the unwilling natives.
Through the night and into the next morning the Japs met Carlson's men with rifles, machine guns and automatic grenade-throwers. Each machine gun and grenade nest had to be exterminated, to the last Jap. Corporal Edward R. Wygel of Milner, Idaho killed all but two Japs at a machine gun with a hand grenade. He then killed one of the two with a pistol, the other with his knife.
Lieut. Oscar Peatross of Raleigh, N.C. found his detachment in the Japs' rear. Three of his men were killed. Lieut. Peatross and the rest burned trucks, killed Jap couriers, destroyed a radio station, finally fought their way back to the beach and returned to their ship, wondering what had happened to Carlson and the main detachment.
Sergeant Jim Faulkner of Red Oak, Tex. got shot through the hand.
"Goddamit, they got me," Sergeant Faulkner cried, and went on fighting.
He was hit in the head.
"Goddamit, they got me again," Sergeant Faulkner yelped.
He was hit in the side. His howl rang through the palms.
"Goddamit, they got me!"
He was hit in the leg.
"Goddamit," Sergeant Faulkner announced, "they got me!"
Finally persuaded to return to the beach and his ship, he awoke after an hour and a half on the operating table and turned to the surgeon.
"Goddamit," said Sergeant Faulkner, "you are trying to starve me!"
He then sat up and had a bowl of soup.