"Attack, Attack, Attack "

"Attack, Attack, Attack. . . ."

By midafternoon of June 29, nearly everything was ready--at the American bases in the Solomons, and at the bases along the northeastern shore of Papua. Said one commanding general to his men: "You've got what it takes. The path won't be easy, but your guts will make you carry on."

Toward Salamaua. At one minute past midnight, through high waves buffeting them across treacherous reefs, assault boats slid onto the sand along Nassau Bay, twelve miles below Salamaua. Hovering offshore in a choppy sea were the slim, nervous shapes of Navy PT boats. Whispering troops swarmed ashore. No Japs opposed them. Patrols fanned out to the north and south, feeling for the enemy.

They soon found him. In the rainy darkness isolated machine guns began to stutter. Six or eight miles away in the inland Mubo area, Australian jungle fighters had begun to deploy their patrols toward the shore. Two days later they joined forces with the Americans at Nassau Bay.

Then followed days of fighting to take up the slack in an eight-mile line which, as it tightened, threatened to be a tourniquet for Salamaua.

To the Islands. On the same night a little fleet of landing boats moved out from Papua, toward the Trobriand and Woodlark Islands. Lieut. Commander John D. Bulkeley, the famed "expendable" who brought General MacArthur out of Corregidor, commanded an escorting section of PT boats. Overhead low-flying P-38s also guarded the convoy.

On Woodlark and on tiny Kiriwina Island in the Trobriand group, the Americans found no Japs. Ahead was hard work to establish camps and airplane landing strips, but the soldiers also had time to meet the friendly natives. Soon each soldier had an island price list, computed in terms of the stinking twist tobacco which serves for currency (one grass skirt, two or three sticks; one turtle, two sticks).

Marching Through Georgia. Largest and most complicated of the combined operations were the attacks on Rendova and New Georgia. Advance units of marines, had already landed on New Georgia and scouted Jap positions. On the night of attack, Navy task forces probed deep into Jap waters, shelling Jap airdromes and coastal positions on the southern tip of Bougainville and at Vila on the island of Kolombangara. A small party also landed on one of the palmy little islands guarding Rendova Harbor.

Then destroyers and transports slid into Blanche Channel (between Rendova and New Georgia). Just before a stormy dawn, the transports hove to off Rendova. Landing barges snaked their way swiftly through a reef-jagged channel and ashore. Above loomed the jungle-robed, broken crater of Rendova Peak.

The surprise was complete. In six hours, U.S. soldiers, sailors and marines routed the small Jap garrisons and drove a few last stragglers to the hills.

Artillerymen chose positions. Within two hours of landing they were shelling Jap positions at the attack's main objective -- Munda airfield on New Georgia, six miles away across a tortuous, coral-pocked channel.

On New Georgia itself, a party joined the Marine scouts at Viru, a Jap barge base 30 miles south of Munda. From this point, from Rendova and from the island of Vangunu, twelve miles south of Viru, Army and Marine forces were finally in position to move on Munda. Of that move, the communiques told almost nothing in the first days, except that Jap troops were opposing it. Fighting their way over land, the Americans sang Marching Through Georgia.

Counter-Attack. Not until 3 p.m. of the first day on Rendova did the Japs muster their defensive strength. Then the planes came.

Down the dark slope of Rendova peak swept 25 torpedo bombers. Some burst through American fighters and ack-ack, launched their torpedoes. One torpedo crashed into a destroyer; it was a dud. But at least one hit was effective. The Navy transport McCawley (formerly the Grace Line's Santa Barbara, lately called "Wacky Mack") dodged two torpedoes, finally took one in the engine room. The staff directing the Rendova operation was aboard. They wisely abandoned ship in small boats; a destroyer took 250 others off; a cargo vessel took the McCawley in tow. A Jap submarine finally torpedoed and sank the Wacky Mack, 20 minutes after the last officers had left the ship.

Three Japanese light cruisers and four destroyers approached American positions on Rendova, were driven off by U.S. warships. Early this week U.S. warships shelled Jap shore positions on northern New Georgia. Later the Navy Department reported that Jap warships engaged a U.S. naval force in the same area.

According to MacArthur headquarters, the Japs lost 101 planes in their first battle, 155 in five days. In the same time the U.S. lost 31. This was Guadalcanal in reverse: now it was the Americans who had air superiority. Each side had the advantage of land bases within fighter reach, but the Americans made the most of it. The Japs, visibly weakened, threw in 20 obsolete float planes--and lost half. This week stronger forces of Zeros appeared (U.S. planes battled 40, downed two in one engagement).

U.S. dive and heavy bombers hounded the Japs at Vila, Buin and Munda itself. The Americans probably did not expect this bombing to be decisive; Munda had been bombed some 150 times before the landings. But air attack was now being carried to the Japs with a weight and ferocity greater than any the Japs had been able to bring against Guadalcanal. It was sweet revenge, and it was the beginning of that offensive attrition which the Japs must dread.

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