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AMERICUS in HONSHU
From the diary of E. Max Cole:
Japan sprawled before us that morning almost in a virginal
state, so far as Occidental
prowlers were concerned, & in the cold morning light
came a sentence heard time & again
on less happy occasions than this - at Guadalcanal,
Bougainville, Saipan, Leyte & others.
Here it was again: "Looks just like any other
island." The Ensign who said it squinted
through his Navy binoculars at a white puff of smoke
slowly stretching itself behind
& across the waterfront of Acmori, Honshu. "The
Nippies got a railway up here," he added,
with some wonder in his voice. Carrier planes were
overhead, weaving through the dim
overcast; they turned south, lost altitude & roared
over the dock area where bright
pinpoints of light
cut here & there through the haze of distance. I straightened myself
& shivered a little. The wind was whipping across my
face; I turned out of it, looking
around the bay. Acmori Wan (Wan is the Jap word
for bay) is shaped like the inside of
any Occidental horseshoe, with the end part opening North
toward Hokkaide - which like
Catalina can be seen
on a clear day. All around, back from the shore of the bay, slopes
of the hills, generously covered with scrubby timber. On
the bottom of the curve is the
city of Aomori, or what Admiral Halsey s boys left
of it. Looking astern, I saw several
other attack transport ships., finding their anchorages.
Our ship, the U.S.S. Lowndes,
carried the 321st regiment, 1st & 3rd battalions of
the 81st Infantry Division, which
with parts of the IX Army Corps were now standing into
Northern Japan embarked on sane
twenty-odd ships, preparing to land for the occupation.
The date: 25, August, 1945. Ship s
routine wasn t very different frcm Combat D-Days. We
called this one O-Day, & were up
at 0430 drinking hot
joe, talking about the Navy point discharge system & munching the
flat brown steaks. I wondered once again why the Navy
always served steak for breakfast
on the morning hours of an invasion. H-Hour was 0900 for
the troops to land. Full combat
dress for troops was prescribed. A skeleton force of
Seabees and Army specialists had
been dispatched ahead of us to scout the beaches &
direct the Japanese army & civilians
as to what was expected of them. No organized resistance
was anticipated, but the Army
was prepared for the unpredictables, while the Navy had
sent up a sent a silent show
of force - just in case. At 0730 a monotonous voice
droned through the ship's speakers:
"Set condition A-1. Hatch crews man your hatches.
Boat crews man your boats. Debarkation
Officers man your stations." I made sure that I had
my cigarettes & made my way to my
station. For once I got the earphones placed without
getting a half-hitch around my neck
with the wire. No helmet to worry about. No strain this
morning. Tested my phone to the
bridge.
"Control, this is No. 8." "No. 8, control."
"Checking in." "Roger. Glad to see
you're out of the sack. "The winches began their
groan to lift the heavy landing crafts
from their cradles. The Army stood clear, watching with a
good amount of awe &
uncertainty as the boats swung up out & down to the
rail where the 3 man crew hopped
in. The boat hit with a flat splash. "How much do
they weigh, mate?" I turned to see
an Army Lt. at my elbow chewing gum & watching the
boat shake loose from its cradle.
"About 8 tons," I answered. He thought that
over for a minute. "That's 10,000 pounds.
Wouldn't think that cable could hold it. They ever
snap?" "None on this ship," "Just
the same I wouldn't walk under the bastard, have some
gum?" I watched him climb down
the debarkation net, when he reached the boat riding the
swells alongside, he looked
up at me, holding on to his helmet with one hand &
called out, "See you in Honshu, Lt.
as he grabbed the gunwale to steady himself. "See
you in Honshu." That started me
thinking. I knew some of the crew weren't exactly
thinking of the Wabash, & I wondered
if the Navy had thought about it. The Navy had, because
about noon I saw the Task Force
commander's order expressing his desire that each officer
& man get a chance to set foot
on Japanese soil & provided a way to do it.
Meaning we must keep our nose clean; nothing
was to be purchased, pilfered or raped. Early the that
afternoon we were splashing ashore
in a landing craft. As we rounded the breakwater to get
into the smaller inner harbor,
a sign freshly painted on an ancient piling greeted: "Joe
Selinski, Brooklyn, Seabee.
Welcome to Acmori, U.S.A." We pulled up to a
worn concrete dock & climbed ashore. The
Japs were happily unloading the boats. One of our
officers shot me a glance that looked
like "Who's kiddin' who?" It was incongruous. Acmori s
waterfront smelled of dead fish
in the North Pacific. Flies were having a feast,
moving over likely looking morsels of
offal that were no doubt the major source of local
fragrance. Our party started off at
a brisk walk, skirted a blocky warehouse with faded Jap
characters painted on it, & headed
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