Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 26 March 1942 — Page 5

THURSDAY, MARCH 26, 1049

(Continued from Page One)

tion roll over into a churning lagoon. The shells scream past and Stukas dive and four-engined bombers plaster you with dynamite from somewhere up ir the stratosphere, but the fleet comes in, destroys everything in sight and goes away againfad lib. One suspects that the ad lib part of the program is what, really concerns Japan. Military establishments can be repaired with time and energy and patriotic fervor. But there is little use in repairing them if the United States ghost fleet, which ought to be keeping quiet on the bottom of Pearl Harbor, can steam up as it pleases over the subs ard under air patrols, make ashes of all the fine projects and kill off the current population 2 sn 5

Not Much Left Now

SO IT WAS with the Marshalls and Gilberts, and so today, with Wake. And if you ever hear the Japanese radio, you will know that the Son of Heaven's enterprising colonists, who took over the premises under the new name of Otori island, consider the matter serious indeed. It is perfectly feasibie to repeat yesterday's performance until nothing is left of the island save its original dust and all the Jap tenants are one with the hard-working coral who built it The Japanese had gone to some trouble to take this little atoil a= one of the first acts of then peculiar war policy Any time the clouds part, you can see the wrecks of a eruiser and a couple of destroyers on the beach where the marine artillerymen dissected them. The Japanese worked from Monday, Dec. 8 (Dec. 7, Ameri-

smoke

can time), until 5 pv. m., Dec. 22.

with a considerable naval force, shock troops and some 200 airplanes, to reduce a defense garrison of 378 marines and seven sailors, and a civil population of 1000. They made the attack an important issue in their Pacific campaign and, so doing, made it important in the eyes of all America. n 2 2 IT WAS NOT sentiment, however, that brought the fleet here, any more than it was the lure of the Japs when they swarmed over it. Wake, equipped, supplied and manned in Jap hands, ccontinued as a threat to the zones of United States defense eastward. So. in line with the policy of eliminating these nuisances up to, and including. Japanese waters. the fleet arrived off shore one morning and. as has been indicated. took the place apart Here is the log: A couple of hours before zunrise, somewhere not far from Wake, we got up and went to the wardroom for breakfast, Before getting into the war paint I took a look outside. There was a dark sky scattered with lumps of clouds. But it was nct going to be any gray day. You could see that. I went below, gathered a lifejacket, a tin hat. an ear-cotton gas mask, binoculars and a flashlight, and crawled up to the platform of the ioremast above the sky control. The other units were not visible. In the shadowy corners of our decks. nothing was moving. ”

”n ”n It Starts at 6:30 I HEARD ONE of the gunner officers mumbling ahout lights ahead that turned out to be meteors masked by clouds and the plaint of somebody on the bridge that he was learning to navigate by Braille. At 6:30 the sky began to lighten and we turned east. There was a

terrific wind and the sea promised to be the roughest we had met since leaving port—and the question was when that would be. 7 A. M.—A salmon-pink glow was spreading out slowly ahead, but it was not a magnificent sunrise. There were banks of clouds on the horizon and ribbons of mist overhead—enough for divebombers, if any. 7:03—Our planes began to warm up and you could hear the motor crescendo even over the screaming bedlam in the rigging. 7:10—It was broad day now. though the sun, if any, was still behind a cloud bank on the horizon. You did not need to be a prophet to guess that the cloud bank would cause us trouble if the grand sons of heaven could get airplanes loose in it. 2 ” ”

A Necklace of Pompoms

7:13—One of our planes went off as the ship rocks back in a jarring farewell. The catapult rolled back ’ into place with a nostalgic imitation of the sound of a lawn mower, 7:18—More planes began coming from our half-seen ships to the rendezvous overhead. We turned loose another one and sent a gaudy necklace of pompom trackers after it. The planes, answering a singal, turned north and upward, disappearing into the straggly mists. The ships were coming into formation now. We could not yet see the objective. 7:28—There was a flash of ackack in front of us. High up in the whitening sky you could see the bright cross of a plane—it looked like a single-seater flying bhoal— streaking across our bows fe the ship immediately ahead in the column, We joined the hunt. Qur heavy flack—with a detonation that shook the decks in vour diaphragm, clutched at your throat and jarred your teeth— was weaving a dynamite fence across the sky, but nothing much came of it.

But the diver had dropped his bomb near one of our leading cans and slid out of sight in a low-hanging cloud cluster. We straightened into the column again —a thoughtfully wavering column. 7:31—The Jap bomber, or another just like it, popped out of the sun, high in the sky off starboard, and squarely above a group of our scout planes. The ack-ack went wild over him and the sky was muddled with cockeyved patterns of tracers.

Jap Staggers Out of Mist

THE BOMRER DIVED vertically toward our planes, so abruptly that it lopked for a moment as if it might have been hit. But suddenly it straightened out, threatening us or the ship next to us. The ean on the outside of the formation threw up a string of flack and the Jap. incredibly changing his direction a third time since his dive began. let go a bomb at the can. The can miraculously proceeded on its way through the descending glitter of the blast; why, none can say. The mass of black muck from the ack-ack guns thickened overhead and a Jap came staggering out of the mists. Like the other one, he may have been hit but apparently he didn’t know it. A 50-foot geyser of green water, with white pearl trimmings, went up alongside the column leader— a close one. 7:38—Sickly yellow flashes began darting from the ships ahead of us. Our lookout picked up a plane from starboard and we went back to our mayhem while another rolled out of the sky, directly above A bomb missed us and blew up like 2 spouting whale off port of the leader.

We See Historic Wake

THE SHIPS HAD already swung at right angles—piling up

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

Wake Island Left Barren, Desolate by U. S. Raiders:

white water in front and flattening peacock’s tails of green behind. 7:45~—The planes apparently had gone away in perfect timing, like the curtain raiser act in a variety show, because now, as we looked out to starboard, we got a glimpse of historic Wake, a grim, white coral graveyard, clinging to the horizon. At the same moment, the ships rocked back with a blast of the main batteries and wreaths of yellow fumes wrapped us up. 7:47—This business looked as if it were going to be a repetition of the episode in the Gilberts and Marshalls. In the background fires were picking out a thin white line on this desolate reef. Two land batteries were working on us—five-inch maybe six; we were not anxious to make certain. The range was pretty fair and the deflection somewhat off. un # »

Marines Impatient

7:50—Smoke puffs rolled and coalesced on Wake, We seemed to have landed a shell squarely in the lap of one of the batteries. The marines manning the pompom batteries, which had not been firing since the planes went away, looked out upon this scene with eagerness and impatience. You sympathized with them even as the long guns knocked new chunks out of the Jap squatters’ shacks and seemed likely to sink the whole island into the unseen lagoon. 7:55—A series of shots landed between us and were tumbling the destroyer off starboard. Most of the bursts were short, but not enough. # ® ”n

Battered Desolation

THROUGH THIS dense veil no wand then, you would get an idea of the layout of the place There were no trees on this battered desolation, no color, no greenery of ‘any sort; no cover

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from shells, and after a while, no sign of human habitation.

» » 2

Like Dewey at Manila

7:58—Whoever counts those things reported that five batteries were still working on us—the sea was chopped up with gushes and spatters.

The scene, with flaming cannon, bursting shell and upflung geysters all over the blue sea, looked like nothing on earth except the wildly thrilling cyclorama once exhibited in Chicago, entitled: “Dewey at the Battle of Manila.” 8:05—Continuou$ noise. If you took your attention away from the clunks falling about the ship, you could count 15 fires along the white line of reef. You could count the shells as they fell on the material sheds and wooden barracks easily visible through the glasses. You were glad of the unreality of the scene as the buildings disintegrated with whatever was in them.

8:13—A direct hit landed on the Wake oil storage. An orange ball unfolded, merging into a mass of black.

» # 2

Then Came the Goonies

8:18—Another hot orange puff on the island. All the guns on all the ships were firing and there was some contribution to the general turmoil from the Jap bate teries still in action. In the midst of all this came the goonies, young albatrosses looking about for dynamited fish or riding the slicks left in the turbulent water by the shells,

The fires multiplied; it seemed that we were picking them off in bunches, with a blaze from central points reaching out for any we had missed. 8:21—A battery at the went end of the island fired one gun. A geyser rose short and far astern of us. At least one of the batteries seemed finished.

Ld # 2

We're Pulling Out THE FIRE ON the islands was settling down to the routine of red and black gughes, almost in rhythm. Shore guns at the west end kept diligently at it and should be given points for perseverance. But shells were falling about us in a wider pattern, and wilder. A battery commander over there probably noticed before we did, that we were pulling out. Our stern turrets rumbled and shook the fantail for our last shots at the burning island. Then, save for the screaming wind that you had just about for2otten, there was silence.

”® x ”®

Worth Worrying About?

YOU PAUSED TO wonder what would become of the hydroponics plant that raised fresh vegetables in a water trough for Pan American passengers,

At the moment, there seemed only wonder if Wake was worth worrying about. 8:30—We were well away, looking back at the familiar smear of oil smoke on the horizon. Wake appeared to be another Wotje, another Jaluit, Moelelap or Kwajelein,

A “Jap four-motored bomber,” the lookout on the range-finder called out. It was gone in a matter of seconds after it burst from the clouds, its grave marked by a tall, wavering cloud.

sunnier, but no more satisfying, horizons. : It was some tine afterward that the Jap radio mentioned our visit. We had been driven off, the announcer said, and somebody mentioned this to one of the officers who had been sweating over the guns. “Driven off,” he said. “Sure, we were driven off. And so was the Long Island hurricane. It didn’ stay there, did it?” .

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