Centipede Height
By David H. Lippman
November 2012

In mid-October 1942, two months after the initial American landings on Guadalcanal, a new Japanese offensive begins taking shape. The various convoys have brought the 38th Infantry Division's 228th Regiment to Guadalcanal. The Japanese have underestimated the American defenses. They believe the Americans have 10,000 men on Guadalcanal. Actually, it's more than 27,000. The Japanese believe the Americans' southern area is weakly held.

The new 17th Army plan is complex, as usual. It calls for the 2nd Division to march to attack up the east bank of the Lunga to Henderson Field. Second (Sendai) Division will attack on three axes of advance. Secrecy is vital: Cooking fires must not issue smoke, and soldiers should eat only crackers after crossing the Lunga River. Japanese engineers hack out a trail, the Maruyama Road, 20 to 24 inches wide, through the jungle, to lead up to the assault. Gen. Harukichi Hyakutake's men are on the move, using compasses to navigate through the jungles. Each man staggers under the weight of ammunition, an artillery shell, and 12 days' rations. Gunners disassemble their pieces and carry them by hand.

	Second Division's fate. Japanese dead on Guadalcanal.

On October 19th the 2nd Division reaches the Lunga River and struggles across the water after sunset, avoiding American airmen. The move has been slow; the attack is delayed to October 22nd. Lt. Gen. Masao Maruyama urges his troops up the Maruyama Road, pushing himself forward with his white cane. Maj. Gen. Yumio Nasu, commanding Maruyama's left flank, tries to keep pace, battling malaria. Everyone is living off half rations of rice. The task of man-hauling guns is too hard on the weary troops, and they leave components of their guns by the trail.

While this advance goes on, the Japanese launch a diversionary attack on their extreme let flank, sending the 4th Infantry Regiment and three tanks under Col. Nakaguma against the 5th Marines. The Japanese attack is greeted with heavy American artillery fire. "One shot from us brings down hundreds in retaliation," says Nakaguma.

Rusting Blades

The Americans react to these moves with some confusion. They have no concrete information, except a captured map suggesting a three-pronged attack from south, east, and west. But air searches see no sign of the eastern prongs.

The 164th Infantry Regiment, being new, is assigned the east, the least likely area to be attacked. Next is the 7th Marines, all the way to Lunga, then the 1st, and finally the 5th. The extreme left is "McKelvy Group," a horseshoe-shaped area held by 3rd Battalion, 7th Marines, and 3rd Battalion 1st Marines. Truck-mounted 3rd Battalion, 2nd Marines, is the reserve, along with the M3 Stuart light tanks of 1st Tank Battalion. The 1st Marine Division is exhausted from two months of hard fighting and living. Supplies are short.

American troops take five in the Guadalcanal jungle, 1942.

By October 22nd Maruyama still has not reached his line of departure, and the big attack is postponed until October 23rd. Sendai Division struggles on through Guadalcanal's jungles, trailing around Mount Austen and splitting in two. Nasu's left flank heads towards Henderson Field. Maj. Gen. Kiyoke Kawaguchi's right flank heads off to the southeast.

During the day, the Japanese open up with artillery at the Matanikau, shelling, among others, Gen. Thomas Holcomb, Commandant of the Marine Corps. He calmly walks through front-line positions as shells rain down.

At 1 p.m., Japanese Val dive-bombers add to the din and Holcomb's impressions, pursuing the destroyer USS Nicholas. Twenty-nine fighters down two Vals. Nicholas goes unhurt. The 11th Air Fleet's liaison officer on Guadalcanal tells his bosses that American airpower has been "generally suppressed."

In the evening, Maruyama's men reach the deployment line and begin forming into their assembly areas. Col. Masanobu Tsuji, on hand to help plan the assault, chats with Kawaguchi as the men get into line.

Kawaguchi doesn't like Tsuji's plan. Kawaguchi wants to go around to the right, and avoid a repetition of the Bloody Ridge battle. Tsuji ignores Kawaguchi, regarding him as a complainer who is reluctant to execute captured enemy soldiers. Tsuji promises to take up the point with Maruyama, but does not do so, confining himself to wishing Kawaguchi success.

At dawn Maruyama's men are still not in position. He postpones the attack a third time. The Japanese troops fan out into their positions for the line of departure, amid stinking jungle. Bayonets fixed on the 19th are now rusty, and men are hungry and exhausted. Capt. Jiro Katsumata writes, "I cannot any longer think of anything, the enemy, food, home or even myself . . . (I am) only a spirit drifting toward an undefined, unknowable world."

First Tanks Forward

Kawaguchi doesn't get the word until mid-afternoon, when he's still a day and a half from his departure line. He phones Maruyama to say so, and discovers that Tsuji has lied.

The two officers shout at each other, and Maruyama orders his subordinate to follow orders to the letter. "I cannot take responsibility for a frontal attack as a unit commander," Kawaguchi shouts. That's fine with Maruyama. He rings Kawaguchi again, and summons him to division headquarters, relieved of his duties.

Col. Toshinari Shoji is given command of the right flank. Shoji, shivering with malaria, protests that relieving officers on the eve of battle is not the way of the samurai. He is told, "Follow orders."

While the officers bicker, Maruyama and Hyakutake quite forget to tell Maj. Gen. Tadashi Sumiyoshi that the attack is delayed again. His diversionary assault thus goes in a day ahead of time.

Sumiyoshi hurls his men into attack at 3 p.m., with the 1st Tank Company's T-97 and T-95 tanks in the lead. They rumble forward, covered by artillery. As the sun sets, Sumiyoshi finally gets word the attack is postponed. It's too late to call it off. First and 2nd Battalion of the 4th Infantry are marching on the Matanikau River, covered by artillery.

At dusk, a heavy barrage hits the Matanikau horseshoe and the Marines defending it. The Americans are surprised to see T-97 tanks driving up the coastal track, but are ready with 37mm anti-tank guns. One gun blasts a hole in the first tank. The second tank stops near the foxhole of Marine Pvt. Joseph D.R. Champagne, who hops out and places a grenade on the tank's track, which stops it dead. A Marine 75mm gun destroys the machine. Marines fire flares to light up the night and enable anti-tank guns to disable the Japanese. Of the 44 men of 1st Independent Tank Company, only 17 survive.

The Marines open up on pre-planned range ladders with the firepower of 40 howitzers. SBD dive-bombers add more high explosive to the din, but the Marines can still hear Japanese troops groaning and screaming under the bombardment. Six thousand Marine rounds stop the attack before it can get started, and rain at 9 p.m. puts out the fires. Japanese losses are uncounted but heavy. American losses are two dead and 11 wounded.

As dawn breaks on the 24th, Marines on the Matanikau see a long column advancing on a bare ridge, menacing the horseshoe from the American left side. If the Japanese press their advance, three battalions of Marines will be cut off and surrounded. The Americans move with alacrity, sending the 2nd Battalion, 7th Marines, to defend this area.

	A defender of Henderson Field.

This move leaves only Lt. Col. Chesty Puller's 1st Battalion, 7th Marines, to hold the 2,500-yard line in front of Henderson Field, from Bloody Ridge to the east. Puller stretches his men to hold Edson's Ridge as well, with a 46-man platoon on the left flank under Platoon Sgt. Ralph Briggs. Companies A, C, and B defend the line. Puller himself walks the entire front line to check his defenses, exemplifying Marine leadership traditions. He orders his men to plant more sandbags and pieces of metal to act as tripwires.

Late that afternoon, Marine Scout-Snipers spot Japanese "rice fires" and enemy officers eyeing their positions with binoculars. Clearly the Japanese are about to attack.

Banzai

Sendai Division finally reaches their start lines at 2 p.m., and Maruyama sets attack time at 7 p.m. But at 4 p.m., rain pours down on the battlefield, turning the jungle into bogs of mud. Clouds obscure the moon and units lose cohesion during the night. At 7 p.m., the Japanese still can't attack. An exasperated Maruyama holds off until 9 p.m., when the rain stops and a full moon illuminates the assault. By now Sendai Division's men are fatigued , hungry, and soaked. Maruyama orders them forward.

On the right flank, Shoji's men get lost in the jungle, actually going through Briggs's positions without a fight. Briggs and his men spend the next few days working through enemy lines back to their area, losing six dead and 10 wounded. Some of Shoji's troops stumble into Puller's lines at 10 p.m., and Puller has his men hold their fire, figuring the Japanese are merely lost. He’s right. The Japanese wander off and never make contact with the defenders.

The left wing, however, under Nasu, sends three battalions in column against Puller, with 1st Battalion, 29th Infantry, leading. The Japanese move through the jungle, through the dark, as the clock ticks to midnight. The right flank flounders on through jungle, but Col. Hiroshi Matsumoto, the operations officer of the 2nd Division, suffering from malaria, signals 17th Army: "2300 Banzai — a little before 2300 the Right Wing captured the airfield." The 17th Army is jubilant, but the right wing is actually nowhere near Henderson Field.

General Nasu's left wing, however, does struggle into battle, hitting the American defenses east of Edson's Ridge at 12:30 a.m. The Japanese advance and come under machine gun fire. Japanese engineers break out cutters and snip passages in barbed wire. Japanese troops of Capt. Jiro Katsumata's 11th Company (3rd Battalion, 29th Infantry) crawl through foot-tall grass. But the Japanese are exhausted from the endless marching, heavy rain, and lack of sleep. Katsumata's men stand up and walk towards the enemy, shouting battle cries. The noise draws down American machine guns and mortars, which destroy Katsumata's company by 1 a.m.

A few minutes later, at 1:15, the 9th Company attacks with banzai yells and ferocity into Puller's Company C. Sgt. John Basilone of Newark, N.J., opens up with his machine gun and begins a night of valor that earns him the Medal of Honor. By 1:25, the 9th Company is torn to pieces by American artillery.

Nonetheless, Puller realizes a major attack is underway. He sends in three platoons of Lt. Col. Robert Hall's 3rd Battalion, 164th Infantry into the line, and asks for the rest of the regiment. The National Guardsmen face their first battle — a night march along a muddy jungle trail under a huge downpour. At 3:45, Hall's men arrive at the front, and are distributed piecemeal into the Marines by squad and platoon.

As the battle continues, Gen. Kawaguchi, in overall command, walks through the jungle to Maruyama's headquarters. He hears the rumble of American gunfire, which combines with the rain to exhaust and depress the general. He slumps against a tree in the rain, filled with despair and self-pity. Seeing his career over, he curls up in some tree roots and falls asleep in the rain, wondering if it will wash him away.

'Blood for Eleanor!'

Meanwhile the rest of the 29th Infantry struggles through the muck. Col. Furumiya reaches the front line just before dawn, and orders two companies to charge. The Japanese mass and move forward, bayonets fixed, against American machine guns. Furumiya himself leads the 7th "Color Escort" Company against the heaviest defenses on the right flank. American firepower cuts most of the Japanese down, but with banzai spirit 100 Japanese are stopped only at American lines. Marines and Guardsmen counterattack and seize three Japanese machine guns from a pile of 37 Japanese bodies.

Nasu's attack has failed. He reports to division. Maruyama tells Nasu, "Soka. (That's it.)" Maruyama also tells Nasu all divisional reserves will be sent up for one more attack the following night.

"Let me attack tonight," says Nasu, racked by fever. Maruyama accedes, figuring his subordinate, being on the scene, knows best. Nasu then asks his surgeon for a shot to control his temperature — 104 degrees — and prays he'll be alive that evening to lead the assault.

As dawn breaks, the rain stops, and the Americans battle small groups of Japanese infiltrators, killing 67. At least 300 Japanese lie dead on the perimeter, and more beyond the American lines, victims of American mortars and artillery.

That afternoon, Nasu makes one more try, with his own reserve regiment, the 16th, and all that's left of the 29th. The Sendai Division's reserve will attack on the right.

Radio intelligence has warned the Americans that another attack is brewing. Lt. Merillat diaries, "Attempted landing tonight? Looks like this is the night." Waiting for the Japanese are the 1st Battalion, 7th Marines, under Chesty Puller, and the 3rd and 2nd Battalions of the 164th Infantry.

At 8 p.m., Sendai Division's guns open up. There aren't many of them, and ammunition is short. Nasu himself leads the first attack on the 3rd/164th. He hobbles into battle, using his sword as a cane. American machine guns open up and rip open his chest. The Japanese continue to charge, but the Americans continue to hold. Once again, Sendai Division's right flank drifts out of the battle, lost in the jungle.

American and Japanese troops, fighting at point-blank range, shout insults at each other. "Blood for the Emperor!" roars a Japanese soldier. "Blood for Eleanor!" retorts a Marine.

The gravely wounded Nasu is carried back to division headquarters. He holds out a feeble hand to Maruyama there, and dies.

Lessons Ignored

While Nasu expends himself against Puller, Oka attacks on the Matanikau with his 124th Infantry, against the 2nd Battalion, 7th Marines. The Japanese hold the high ground and pour heavy rifle fire down on the Americans. Platoon Sergeant Mitchell Paige leads his machine gun section in defense of the position, but Japanese fire cuts the defense down to Paige himself. He maintains fire, dashing through shot and shell to bring up reserve machine guns, earning a Medal of Honor.

But at 5 a.m., the Japanese scale the hill and eject the Americans. Maj. Odell M. Conoley, the 2nd/7th's exec, assembles a 17-man counterattack force, which includes his radiomen, messmen, bandsmen, a cook, and some riflemen. This ad hoc force charges at 5:40 a.m., joined by Paige and two platoons from Company C, 5th Marines.

The motley group of Marines does its job in movie fashion, catching the Japanese by surprise. The Marines hurl grenades onto the ridgetop, disrupting the defense. Conoley's men recapture three machine guns and five Japanese weapons, and hold the ridge.

By 6 a.m., the battle is over. The Americans count 98 Japanese bodies on the ridge, and 200 more lie dead in the ravine and the trails leading to the ravine.

Japanese prisoners on Guadalcanal.

The grand attack has failed. Maruyama has no more reserves. Indeed, he has practically no Sendai Division. The 29th Infantry Regiment has lost 553 killed or missing and 479 wounded among its 2,554 men. The 16th Regiment's losses are uncounted, but the 164th's burial parties handle 975 Japanese bodies. At least 300 Japanese lie dead in Oka's attack. The American estimate of 2,200 Japanese dead is probably too low. The American battle toll is estimated at just under 90.

At 17th Army HQ, exhausted staff officers face the hammer blow of defeat. They are already physically exhausted from endless rain, soaked clothes, and scanty rations of rice, soybean paste, and crackers. Many officers hobble around with canes. Like all defeated officers, they blame everyone else — the Navy for failing to provide supplies, the lack of air cover, the shortage of troops and supplies.

Navy Commander Ohmae, however, blames the 17th Army. He notes that the 17th Army has underestimated the terrain difficulties, which has caused severe food and medicine shortages at the front, and exhausted the troops. 17th Army has made faulty assessments of American positions despite the existence of aerial photographs. And 17th Army is rife with dissension — Maruyama's headaches and neuralgia, Oka's indifference to orders, and Nasu's incompetence. "Nasu knew nothing but charging," Ohmae writes.

Another factor in the Japanese defeat is the American defense. Vandegrift skillfully "dangled" his men at the front, presenting a trap. When the Japanese attacked, the trap sprang shut with the steel vice of firepower and artillery. Vandegrift has won this battle by ignoring staff college teachings.

Meanwhile, the devastated 2nd Sendai Division retreats from "Centipede Height" — their name for Edson's Ridge — in ruins. The medical teams are overwhelmed, so each unit must care for its own sick and wounded. Japanese soldiers struggle through jungle trails amid pouring rain with no food. Col. Masanobu Tsuji goes up the Maruyama Trail to find out what's going on. He runs into Col. Yoshitsune Minamoto, whose battalion has been annihilated. Minamoto lies at the side of the trail, the lower half of his body covered in blood.

"Hold on," says Tsuji. "We'll have someone come back for you."

"I haven't eaten since day before yesterday," Minamoto replies.

Tsuji takes two chopstick full of rice from his bag and puts them in Minamoto's mouth. Minamoto points to a group of men lying nearby. They open their mouths, and Tusji feeds them like a mother robin feeding her babies, putting clumps of rice in the dying men's mouths.

Centipede Height — Edson's Ridge — is yours for the taking
in Panzer Grenadier: Guadalcanal and Jungle Fighting.

David H. Lippman, an award-winning journalist and graduate of the new School for Social Research, has written many magazine articles about World War II. He maintains the World War II Plus 55 website and currently works as a public information officer for the city of Newark, N.J. We're pleased to add his work to our Daily Content.