|
Robert "Bob" Crowton 2nd Lt, United States Marine Corps |
During most of the time I was in G-2-5, I was a platoon leader of the ls` platoon. Prior to my overseas assignment, I entered the Marine Corps through the V-12 program on 1 July, 1943, with the understanding that we would finish our college education then enter the Officer Candidate School at Quantico Virginia. After seven months as a student at the University of Colorado, in Boulder, we were notified that due to the needs of the Corps, the program was modified and we were to be sent to Boot Camp. After the early Pacific battles it became obvious that a large number of platoon leaders would be needed in the pipe line in a hurry. As a result, on a dark February morning in 1944, we boarded a troop train and headed east, eventually arriving in Parris Island, South Carolina. After completing boot camp in May, 1944, we were shipped to Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, with the intent of staying there until there was room at Quantico for our class.
A short time after our arrival at Camp Lejuene, we were advised we would not be able to wait for space at Quantico, and that a Special Officer Candidate School would be formed at our current location immediately. The School was totally related to field operations. There was no training in the social graces of how to become an "Officer, AND A GENTLEMAN." After four months of continual field training, we graduated on 30 September 1944, and the next morning half of our class was on a troop train that headed generally west.
After about 10 days on the train, we eventually arrived at Camp Pendleton in Southern California. After about four weeks of more field exercises, we were separated into replacement drafts, with half of us being sent to divisions preparing for landings at Iwo Jima and half to divisions slated for Okinawa.
My first assignment was that of Brig Officer, and I was charged with getting aboard 30 reluctant people who had previously "jumped ship" and were being held so there would be no chance of their missing their next scheduled sailing.
On 11 November, 1944, which was 3 days after my 21St birthday, we sailed from the BStreet Pier in San Diego aboard a converted cruise ship, the USS Wharton.
The next 30 days aboard ship was, in retrospect, probably was the most pleasant duty I had in the Corps. After almost 7 months of field training and eating out of mess gear, it was great to sit at a table for meals, and have time to read.
The 13t" Replacement Draft of which I was a member, was relatively small with 9 officers and 1300 enlisted in the group.
Early in December, we arrived at Pavuvu, in the Russell Islands, about 65 miles north of Guadalcanal. It was one of the few places where we were welcomed upon our arrival. We were to replace some of the Marines who had been overseas for almost two years. I remember seeing a sign by the road that said "DRIVE CAREFULLY, the Marine you hit may be your replacement." My assignment was to George Company, 2°d Bn., St" Regiment. Is' Lt. Dick Breen, a 24 year old, and survivor of the battles of New Britain and Peleliu, was the Company Commander.
After practice landings at Guadalcanal, the Division began loading all the ships required for a landing under combat conditions. For a novice it was most impressive. Before going to bed at night, I remember seeing a long line of trucks and equipment headed down the road toward the pier. The line moved all night long and was still moving down the road the next morning. When our turn came to load, we marched down to the beach and boarded our LST, complete with the Amphibious tractors in the hold, and an LCT (Landing Craft Tank) lashed to the middle of the deck. In March the division headed north to land -- we knew not where. Some of us guessed it would be Taiwan, but some time later we were told of our target - - Okinawa, a name most of us had never before heard o£ After plugging along for almost a month at 12 knots, we landed on 1 April, 1945, between the Yontan and Kadena Airfields.
The landing was somewhat uneventful compared to what was encountered by those in the Company who were at Peleliu. April was spent by us patrolling the center of the island cleaning out caves, chasing down isolated groups of Japanese, and relocating Okinawan civilians to safe locations.
On May 1 st, we received word to pack our gear and get ready to board the trucks and head toward the southern part of the island to relieve some of the Army units who had been engaged in heavy fighting during the past month.Later in the day, we began to replace units of the Army 27`" Division. My introduction to action in the Island's southern section occurred when I came around a farmhouse and saw one of the soldiers with a huge jagged shrapnel hole in his leg being treated by a couple of Medics. My first reaction was "God, is that what we're going to be facing?" Unfortunately, the future proved every bit as bad as what I expected.
We should have known the future was going to be tough when we found that our Company was able to take over a portion of the Line that had previously been held by what was left of a Army Battalion.
On the morning of May 2nd, we received our Plan of the Day, and were to head out at 0800. As soon as we left our positions, we came under heavy fire but were unable to see who was shooting at us. It was obvious the fire was coming from the caves that dotted the hillsides. The day was long, and by 1600 we had advanced but a few hundred yards and were in positions we would not be able to hold after dark, so we were ordered to withdraw to our locations we had held that morning. Our casualties were heavy, and at that time we were able to appreciate what the Army troops had been facing the previous month.
On May 3rd, with better preparation and artillery support, we were able to make a little more progress and nightfall found most our group sheltered in burial vaults that were used by the Okinawans to store the remains of their dead (mostly bones stored in tall vase-like containers).
If I remember correctly, it rained that night but we kept fairly dry and somewhat comfortable.
The morning of 4 May brought more of what we encountered the last three days - - up the hills, attack the caves, throw in satchel charges or hand grenades or call for the flame throwers. It was a long hard day but by late afternoon, we had taken a prominent hill. A machine gun emplacement had been on the top, so we removed the firing mechanism and threw it away. The hill was a little ahead of the Line, but because of its height, it was decided that the First Platoon would dig in and hold it for the night. At that time we were a little north of a village named Dakishi, and as we began to dig in for the night, enemy fire was so heavy, we had to use smoke grenades cover the area while we evacuated our casualties.
As evening approached, we began preparing for the night with most of the platoon on the south brow of the hill. The platoon command post was just below the brow on the north side.
Because we were a little south of the company lines and we were tied in with the 307th Army Regiment, to our left, on the east, they agreed to place a 375 Pack Howitzer at the bottom of the hill to the east of us to protect our flank.
As the sun went down, the Japanese began a horrendous artillery barrage that tore down what little forest that was left after a month of fighting in that area, and filled the air not only with shrapnel, but with pieces of shredded tree trunks and limbs.
Needless to say we got very little rest as the shells came down and the sky was alive with star shells fired by our artillery and the naval support ships.
About 0200 we saw motion at the bottom of the hill, and saw troops hunched over and coming up toward us. They were not making any noise, just moving up the hill straight at us. Our reaction was to throw all the grenades we had because they were deadly, and did not give away our positions. Despite all our efforts, they continued to advance. We finally had no
As soon as the stretcher was put down, the medical staff cut off all my clothes. At the time it seemed strange as I only had a head wound, but later decided their procedure made sense because when casualties arrived, the doctors couldn't tell where all the wounds were until the patient had been thoroughly examined. When they removed my boots, one of the staff asked his associates "Can anybody wear 10 1/2 B boots?" It was then I knew I wasn't going anywhere for awhile.
At that time I recall two procedures that remain in my memory to this day. The first was having my arm strapped to a board for several hours while receiving plasma. I couldn't talk, and didn't have pencil or paper, so I just wiggled around and agonized until someone changed the needle to the other arm. The other traumatizing event occurred when the surgeon told me my tongue was badly lacerated and would have to be stitched together, but he would be unable to use a local anesthetic for fear my tongue would swell and stop my breathing. The only alternative would be to get a firm grip on the stretcher with both hands while they tied me together. It was a long two hours.
The next day I was loaded into an amphibious vehicle that looked like a large bathtub on wheels and was called a DUKW and ferried out and hoisted aboard an APA (troop carrier) that had been converted to a hospital ship, and sent to Saipan and an army hospital. There a surgeon who was able to tell me that my wound occurred when a bullet entered my face about an inch in front of my right ear and exited just under the left side of my nose. He also said most of my top teeth, the roof of my mouth, and the left portion of my upper lip had been destroyed and the future treatment would include extensive oral, dental and facial plastic surgery. I was not a happy camper.
I was in an Army hospital on Siapan about three weeks while metal and bone fragments were removed then was placed on a navy medi-evac plane and flown to Hawaii. The plane was a two engine R4D and loaded with stretcher cases.
An interesting personal sidelight for me was the fact that my brother was in the Corps and was stationed in Guam when he received word I had been wounded. He was able to catch a flight to Saipan to see me but his plane landed moments after our plane left the island.
Because the planes traveled about 200 miles per hour those days, the flight took 20 hours including a refueling stop at Johnson Island. We eventually landed at Hickam Air Base and we were taken to navy hospital #10 as it was identified then, located at Aiea Heights overlooking Pearl Harbor. After two weeks of more treatment, we were placed on a hospital ship and sent to Oakland. From there I was assigned to the hospital at the Farragut Naval Training Station in the Northern part of the Idaho panhandle. Evidently someone noted my home state was listed as Idaho and decided to send me to a hospital close to home - - not knowing I was from the southern part of the state, almost five hundred miles from the hospital.
The dentist did what they could but recommended that I should be sent to a facility having oral and plastic specialists, so my next move was to naval hospital at Balboa Park in San Diego.
I stayed there for just 2 months less than 2 years and was released in June 1947. EVANS: How many men were in your platoon?
CROWTON: About 50 counting the machine gun section assigned to us.
EVANS: And how many men had you lost before you ....
CROWTON: I don't know, but guess 10 or 15 casualties. The next morning in the small area on the hillside there were 75 bodies of Japanese. We don't know how many were wounded and evacuated by their troops.
EVANS: Let's talk about when you got the Navy Cross - what activity were you doing at that time?
CROWTON: I think what happened was that since we were able to hold the hill and only because we had a successful result - ah - I was originally told that when we got back to San Diego that I had been recommended for the Silver Star. The story went along I guess they looked at it and decided to change their mind and in October of 1945, (Navy Day).