From Boot to Black Hell

[Thurman]

Before the first light of the day on the morning of February 19, 1945, men of the 133rd NCB were gathered in small groups on the decks of the A.P.A.'s. The pre-dawn gloom was alive with the roar of gunfire, and the fiery streaks of tracers, rockets, and shells. Eyes were straining to penetrate the darkness, trying to see the outline of the island fortress of Iwo-Jima. Breakfast was hurried, and there was an orderly confusion of preparation. Packs were assembled, weapons checked, combat rations issued, and final orders passed. Then began the wait until the loud speakers should blare "Boat Group Easy" one report to debarkation station ten. That would be part of the battalion. The first assault waves left, and anxious eyes followed the frothing wakes of landing boats spearing toward the dark gray beach, nearly five miles away. As many as could crowded around the radios in jeep command cars, listening to the men who were already coming into contact with the enemy on the shore which was alive with exlposions and gouts of flame from flame throwers. Reports were encouraging "We're in fifty yards" Tanks are up a hundred yards, lets have some Naval gunfire support in Target area so and so. Then the radio jeeps were over the side and gone. Men of the battalion could only look shoreward, pray a little, and wonder how the Marines were making out. Part of the battalion was sent in hard on the heels of the first assault wave, the rest following until the entire outfit was ashore by four in the afternoon of D-Day. They found the shore line already littered and choked with wrecked amtracks,dukws, tanks, and L.C.V.P's. The few available landing places still open were under heavy concentrated mortar and shell fire. Coming onto the beach was like running through a curtain of red hot, biting fragments of steel. It was discovered that the situation had changed since the first early reports. After the assault waves had passed the first two terraces of the beach, the enemy had shown his strength. Every inch of the deep sand was under the guns high on Suribachi and on the two airfields, and every inch was being searched with mortar, artillery, and machine gun fire. Men, equipment, and material were perishing almost faster than they could be landed. And the 133rd NCB was in a more precarious position than the Marines in the front lines, some hundred yards in from the water front. The battalion's job was to remain on the beach, take what the enemy had to dish out, and unload and forward the ammunition and supplies needed to blast the Iwo defense back. No reminder was necessary to persuade men of the battalion to dig in. Foxholes were scooped in the volcanic sand with shovels, helmets, mess kits, hands, and shoulders. But such foxholes were only protection against small arms fire and near misses with heavy caliber shells. A large number of men suffered casualties when heavy mortar shells landed in, or too close to, their shallow holes. Then too, the shelters were onlt to be sought during the heavier bombardments. Work went on during the comparative lulls when the shelling became scattered and desultory. The men became almost injured to the noise, heat, stench, and dust, and unless a mortar burst was within a hundred feet, kept on manhandling howitzer and machine gun ammunition, oblivious to the whine of shrapnel. And always there was the unreality and hurt of seeing shipmates unlucky enough to be caught in the open by the first shell of a barrage. D-Day night was one of tense and nervous alertness. Unloading went on in the dark, and men on security stared hard into a darkness only partially relieved by star shells, one succeeding the next. The front lines were a matter of yards inland, the Japanese still held their first line of defense, already marked by wrecked American equipment that had battered against it earlier in the day. Howitzer batteries on the second terrace broke up well organized enemy counter-attacks in the darkness, and the night finally passed. D-Pus-1 was a repitition of the first day, and a pattern for the long days to follow. Demolition men blasted beach obstructions, opening up unloading points. Bulldozers cleared debris on the beach, and smoothed access roads for amtracks and dukws. Men from the 133rd carried supplies by hand or loaded them into vehicles going inland. Another detail established and operated dumps of ammo, food, water, fuel, and other supplies. The Corpsmen worked with the evacuation station personnel, and their casualty rate evidenced their disregard for personal danger in the monumental job of caring for the wounded. The surveyors and draftsmen were assigned to intelligence work, and kept up to the minute maps and reports for higher echelons. Some of the battalion members assigned security duty went up to the front lines and fought beside the Marines until their specialties were required for the beach operation. For twenty-six days the battalion lived under conditions of intense discomfort, violence, and destruction. The men learned how to identify the sounds of battle, when to duck, and when to ignore them. They learned by bitter experience how to avoid mines, and to spot booby-traps. There were highlights, When the flag was raised on the top of Mount Suribachi, when an occasional LST offered the use of its showers, when the commissary department made fresh doughnuts and everybody had a couple. Unpleasant memories include air raids from the receiving end, and rockets and rocket mortars as large as the average water heating tank. Dust hung in a thick pall over everything, and everywhere the overpowering odor of death. When the island was declared secure on March 16, work had already begun on the battalion camp. Details of men were erecting tents, constructing a galley, putting up a water plant, installing generators and building the many facilities necessary to make a camp. Finally all was ready, and it was the immeasurable relief that the men came out of their foxhole homes to the comparative luxury of tents, cots and hot meal served in a messhall.
The 133rd NCB joined the Fifth Marine Amphibious Corps and the Fourth Marine Division for the amphibiou assault on Iwo-Jima. The entire outfit landed on Iwo-Jima on D-Day with the first assault waves of the Fourth Marine Division. The 133rd suffered severe casualties during the bitter fighting for Iwo where it distinguished itself in both front line combat and construction. The 133rd had (370) casualties over 40% of the 875 men that landed. The highest in Seabee History