It was lunchtime with the Admiral, at his winter home in Hilo. My mother made macaroni and cheese, his favorite meal. She had a not-so-secret recipe; she added milk to the noodles, put a heavy layer of cheddar over everything, then baked it. I took my portion first, the rest was his. There would be no leftovers.
Later, “where were we”, he asked. I checked my notes: Renshaw, I said. 1942, I collected the new destroyer from the Federal shipyard in New Jersey, and after sea trials, took her through the Panama Canal and then out to Pearl. We escorted transports to the Solomon Islands, and while there did some ground bombardment. While that was going on, I got word that I would be promoted. Admiral Spruance was putting together a large task force for operations in the western Pacific.” “Is that this cryptic coded material on your war record following Renshaw?” I asked. “ Right, he said, Destroyer Squadron 50, made up of nine new very fast ships. We provided escort for the Enterprise, and other carriers. I commanded the group, first from the Cogswell, then, in May of 1944, I moved to the Bronson. By then we were returning from providing air support for General Eichelberger’s Hollandia invasion in New Guinea.
Before we could get there, though, we had to take the Marshall islands. We left Hawaii in mid January. Majuro came first, and it turned out to be a huge gift from the enemy. The enormous lagoon and all the civilian and military infrastructure we collected intact. Before the bombardment was scheduled to begin, we put a scouting party ashore. They found natives who reported that the enemy had all left for Eniwetok, leaving a single officer in charge, who was soon captured. The report came back from the scouts: “stop the bombardment, we’ve taken Majuro”.
We moved in and immediately began refueling and rearming operations. Majuro soon became the Pearl Harbor of the central Pacific. Just in time; two days after we took over, the Indiana struck the stern of the Washington in a 4am collision. Washington had crossed in front of Indiana, which almost managed to steer clear. Washington had its stern sheared off by Indiana’s bow, which was crushed. One of them was zigging when it should have been zagging. Both battleships later made it to Majuro. We did search and rescue for crew members. With so many ships, it was a wonder there weren’t more of those collisions.
From Majuro we next attacked Truk Lagoon in mid-february. Truk was heavily fortified and I suppose they figured we would look for less dangerous targets. We caught them with their assets exposed. Two hundred fifty planes destroyed, forty ships sunk. It was a big win for us. Revenge for Pearl Harbor. Very good for morale, because the work was incredibly stressful. Continuous calls to battle stations (GQ), night and day. Never enough sleep. Watch for aircraft, stay in proper formation, zig zag followed by straight line followed by zig zag, watch for periscopes and torpedo wakes, we couldn’t let our guard down for a minute out there.
I forgot to mention one more thing about Hollandia. Your father and I almost crossed paths there, he was an infantry captain with General Eichelberger’s outfit. They were fortunate with that landing, very little resistance. Earlier, however, just down the coast at Buna, they had not been so lucky. Eight thousand American and Australian troops slaughtered. The cemetery where they all were buried was called Eichelberger square. I don’t know how your father survived that one.
MacArthur learned some lessons, though. No more futile frontal assaults against dug in enemy machine guns. Find places on the coast where the enemy had not set up. Land troops and build forward airfields. Bomb enemy positions. Then keep leap-frogging toward Manila. Leave the enemy remnants to die of the two m’s, malnutrition and malaria.
MacArthur was in a big hurry to get back to Manila. Guilty conscience. Vanity. Bad combination. Just before the enemy overran Corregidor and started the Bataan death march, he and his family and staff (and no one else) were evacuated from Manila Bay in the middle of the night through enemy-controlled ocean six hundred nautical miles south to Mindanao by a very resourceful U.S. Navy PT boat commander named John Bulkely. Despite long odds, Bulkely and his passengers made it safely to their destination, where an Army B-17 waited to evacuate the MacArthur party, first to Darwin, then Brisbane where he set up his headquarters. Bulkely, meanwhile, returned to duty. For that improbable passenger delivery he received heartfelt thanks from MacArthur and the Medal of Honor from a grateful Franklin Roosevelt. “
The Ruler of the Heavens 