As dawn broke on the western side of Viru Harbor, Currin’s Raiders also were back on the trail but now with a purposefulness not seen since they departed Regi—only three chronological days, but a seeming infinity of misery, before. Gone was the I,000-yard stare that only yesterday had seemed to be a permanent part of each man’s facial features; now there was fire in their eyes and spring in their step. Although tired, sick, and hungry, they hiked up their loads and went forward to meet the enemy, whom they blamed for their misery.

Shortly before 0900, when the leading elements of Ray Luckel’s Company “0” were still two and one-half miles from Tetemara, they suddenly heard, far to the east, the distinctive chatter of .30-caliber machine guns accompanied by the slower beat of Browning automatic rifles. Tony Walker’s Raiders had begun their attack on Tombe. After 15 or 20 minutes, the distant firing ceased, but was replaced almost immediately by the sound of approaching aircraft. Knowing that no air strikes had been planned for the Viru operation, Currin assumed that the planes were Japanese and quickly signaled the column to take cover.

Fortunately the planes turned out to be six divebombers from VMSB-l32 and VSB-l1 led by Major Ben Robertshaw, commander of VMSB-l32. The unplanned and uncontrolled, hence risky, strike had been ordered in the hope that it would help the Raiders, which it surely did—both directly and indirectly. Commenting on the immediate results of the 20-minute bombing in a July 1949 Marine Corps Gazette article, Major Roy D. Batterton, the 4th Raiders’ engineer officer, noted.

The timing could not have been more perfect even if planned….

Walker’s firing at Tombe drew the Japs out of Tetemara, out into the open and then our bombers started on Tetemara, driving the Japs out of their prepared positions and into the jungle toward us…..

Our point Raider made contact with the Japs 15 minutes after the bombing ceased.

While the planes were bombing and strafing the enemy positions at Tetemara, three LCTs (landing craft, tank) entered Viru Harbor, loaded with gasoline, oil, and ammunition for the torpedo boat base that was to be built there later. These vessels were scheduled to land only after the harbor was secure; however, their serendipitous arrival during the air attack undoubtedly led the enemy commander to conclude that a coordinated amphibious assault was underway and thereby partially diverted his attention from the genuine threat to his rear.

After determining that the dive-bombers posed no threat to his force, Currin urged his Raiders on toward Tetemara. Advancing at a half-trot and trying to ignore the steady downpour of cold rain, the column moved on up the trail. Suddenly, about 15 minutes after the bombs had stopped falling, Japanese riflemen opened fire on Ray Luckel’s point, hitting two men. As the sharp, distinctive crack of the .25-caliber rifles echoed through the jungle, Luckel’s Raiders reacted instinctively, deploying into the bush on either side of the trail. Now the long weeks of intensive tactical training began to pay dividends.

As Japanese heavy machine guns added their fire to that of the rifles, the Raiders quickly, almost mechanically, and with a minimum of commands established a base of fire to pin down the enemy while demolition teams moved around the flanks to knock out the machine guns. Over the next four or five hours, as the Raiders shouldered their way through the enemy positions, the same movements were repeated over and over with the precision of a carefully choreographed ballet; advance to contact, establish a base of fire, maneuver to destroy or drive out the enemy, resume the advance.

By 1300, the Raiders had reached high ground on the southwest side of Tetemara and confronted what appeared to be the enemy’s final defensive line. Once again they established a base of fire to fix the enemy while demolition teams maneuvered to dispose of the machine guns on either flank. As the line waited for the signal to continue the advance, however, the Japanese introduced a variant into the battle scenario. Suddenly, from about 75 yards ahead, the waiting Raiders heard a muffled howling that gradually built up in volume and intensity. Having been told of the pep rallies that preceded banzai attacks, the Marines knew what to expect and braced themselves for the coming storm.

For several minutes, the shouting and shrieking continued, building to a climax; then the Japanese charged. Thirty or so green-clad infantrymen burst out of the jungle and, firing on the go, ran full tilt at the Raider line, only to smash into a solid wall of fire and steel. First, a machine gun on the right flank of Luckel’s line opened up, then one on the left, and then everyone was firing. For about half a minute, every weapon along the line blazed away at anything that moved, then fell silent. Now the only sounds from the killing ground were the screams and groans of dying enemy soldiers, and they too soon faded away. Only a handful of survivors escaped into the jungle.

At around 1500, the Raiders resumed their advance and an hour later were in position for the final assault on the enemy defense. With all of Luckel’s Company “0” and the battalion headquarters elements providing a base of fire, Currin sent Lieutenant Mal McCarthy and his 2nd Platoon of Company “P” around his own right flank to strike the enemy left. Yelling wildly, McCarthy and his Raiders charged with fixed bayonets and carried the position, driving the surviving Japanese back toward Tetemara and the high coral cliffs that overlooked the harbor.

For the next hour or so, Currin’s men were busy mopping up the Japanese who had not hurled themselves to certain death from the high cliffs or escaped across the Mango River. When the last enemy soldier had been killed and the area was organized for defense against a possible counterattack, the Raiders turned their attention to the enemy camp, which had been smashed and cratered by the air attack. Among the ruins, however, they found what they wanted most of all; food and water. Now still another Raider battalion discovered that Japanese rations were not bad at all, and for the first time in four days the 4th Raiders enjoyed real food and clear water—from captured stores.

In addition to the rations, the Raiders’ war booty included a 3-inch gun, four 80mm guns, eight dual-purpose guns, 16 machine guns, and stocks of ammunition, clothing, and small-boat supplies. Forty-eight Japanese bodies were counted on the battlefield. Total enemy losses in the raid were 83 known killed and more than 100 estimated to have been wounded. Undoubtedly many of the enemy who tried to escape across the Mango River, wounded and unwounded alike, drowned. On July 18, Major Hara and about 170 survivors of the Viru garrison, many of them wounded and all terribly wasted by their ordeal in the jungle, stumbled into the Japanese lines at Munda airfield, just in time to be destroyed there.

But no matter how complete the victory, how satisfying the spoils, there always comes that somber moment when a commander must reckon his costs and associate names with the heretofore impersonal count of his dead. Currin’s losses at Tetemara were eight Raiders killed in action and one dead of wounds, all of Company “0.” Killed were First Sergeant Peter P. Kosovich, Platoon Sergeant Fred J. Zwick, Corporal Walter K. Thomack; Privates, first class, John W. Hill and Samuel P. Thornsberry; and Privates Thomas F. Buckley, Elwood B Houser, and Eugene Snyder. Private, first class, John J. Chatfield died of wounds on July 4.

Before dark on July 1, the bodies of the five Company “P” Raiders killed on the twenty-ninth were brought to Viru where they and their Company “0” comrades were buried in a small clearing on the bluff overlooking Viru Harbor. Father Paul J. Redmond, the beloved chaplain of the 4th Raiders, read the funeral service, concluding with the words: “You men who have given your lives here in the jungles of Viru were of all races and religions. But you were comrades in life, and here in this spot you shall remain comrades. May you rest in peace, you have served your country well, God bless you.”

Meanwhile back at Guadalcanal, preparations had continued for the occupation of Vangunu which lies off the southeast coast of New Georgia, separated from Segi Point by the very narrow Njai Passage. In the preliminary planning for Operation TOENAILS, Vangunu had been considered as a possible location for an airfield, however, Lieutenant George Schrier’s reconnaissance team had determined that on the island there were no areas suitable for airfield construction. Nevertheless, Wickham Anchorage, on the south-eastern shore, would provide a sheltered harbor along the supply route from the Southern Solomons to the Rendova-Munda area, hence Admiral Turner had decided to continue planning to occupy the island.

It was this decision that had resulted in George Schrier and his reconnaissance team (augmented by Second Lieutenant Lamb, the intelligence officer of the 2d Battalion, 103rd lnfantry) being sent back to the island in mid-June for a last minute survey. On June 20, George had reported that the enemy was not present in strength and that beaches in Oloana Bay could accommodate a reinforced battalion. On the following day, Admiral Turner directed Admiral Fort to proceed with the plans to occupy the island on June 30.

Forces allocated for the landing included the 2nd Battalion, 103rd lnfantry (Lieutenant Colonel Lester E. Brown, USA, the designated landing force commander), half of the 4th Raider Battalion (Major James R. Clark, battalion executive office), Battery “B,” 70th Coast Artillery, and half of the 20th Naval Construction Battalion. Colonel Brown’s landing plan called for Clark’s Raiders to land before dawn in Oloana bay, contact the reconnaissance team, and establish a beachhead. The Army battalion would land in two waves: the first. in seven LCIs, would land 30 minutes after the Raiders, and the second, in seven LCTs, would land at 1000.

Once the landing force was established ashore, Brown planned to send Company “E,” 103rd Infantry (Captain Edward I. Chappell), reinforced with 81mm mortars, to occupy the west bank of the Vura River at Vura village to prevent the escape of the 100 or so Japanese reported to be there. The rest of the force would advance well inland to establish a force beachhead line behind which the Seabees and artillerymen could begin their work.

On June 27, Clarks Raiders— Company “N” (Captain Earl 0. Snell, Jr.), Company “Q” (Captain William Flake), the Demolitions Platoon (Lieutenant Robert P. Smith), and a detachment of Headquarters Company— embarked on APDs McKean and .Schley at Tetere. On June 28, the two ships sailed to Purvis Bay, Florida Island, to rendezvous with the rest of the task force and proceed onward to the objective area.

At 0335 on June 30, in hard dark, the amphibious task force hove to in Oloana Bay, about two miles offshore from the landing beach. Darkness and driving rain made it impossible to see the markers that Schrier and his reconnaissance team had positioned several days before or the bonfires they had lit that night to mark the flanks of the landing beach. Strong winds and choppy seas further complicated matters, and Admiral Fort, prudently having decided to postpone the landing until dawn, signaled the APDs not to unload their troops.

The Schley and McKean, however, either did not receive the message or misunderstood it and continued to debark the Raiders in compliance with the original order. After debarkation had been underway for several minutes, the commanders of the APDs decided that they were out of position and moved their ships about 1,000 yards eastward. When the debarkation resumed a royal screwup soon developed.

As the landing craft milled about, trying to get into formation to head for the beach, they became mixed in with the LCIs transporting the Army troops, and the tenuous contact that had existed between them was lost. Unable to see and despairing of ever getting into formation, the coxswains headed their boats toward where they thought the beach to be and proceeded individually, occasionally in pairs. As a result of this confusion, the Raiders were landed at widely separated points along the coast.

Two boats carrying Company “Q” Raiders grounded on a reef seven miles west of Oloana Bay. One of them, with Lieutenant Eric S. “Scotty” Holmgrain’s 1st Platoon embarked, broached in the surf. The Raiders, abandoning the boat, swam, floated, and waded the two or so miles to shore. The other, carrying Lieutenant James “Jim” Brown’s 2nd Platoon, hit a reef and lost its rudder but remained afloat. With coaching from the coxswain, Brown’s Raiders managed some simple steering by tying buckets to lines and, trailing them in the wake, first on one side of the boat and then the other, managed to maintain a position just off the beach until morning.

When dawn came, the two platoons headed eastward toward Oloana Bay. Holmgrain’s Raiders on shanks’ mare and Brown’s in the crippled landing craft. About an hour later the McKean sighted Brown’s boat and replaced it with another in which they continued on to Oloana Bay. Holmgrain and his men, however, continued onward along the coast on foot to rejoin the main body.

Elsewhere another six boats were lost in the landing, and the Raiders, swimming, wading, and floating ashore, were scattered widely along the landing beach, some as far as four miles from their designated landing point. Fortunately, there was no resistance and, quickly orienting themselves, they pushed inland and began making their way toward Oloana Bay. At around 0700, when Brown and his infantrymen, enjoying the benefits of daylight and calming seas, landed in good order, there were fewer than 100 Raiders holding the beachhead; however, they were confident that their missing units would arrive momentarily, as most of them did.

In a hurried conference with Lieutenants Schrier and Lamb, who met him on the beach, Lieutenant Colonel Brown learned that the bulk of the enemy force was concentrated at Kaeruka instead of Vura and quickly changed his operations plan to make Kaeruka his objective. Company “E” would carry out its originally assigned mission at Vura and be prepared to support the main body with mortar fire. The rest of the force would proceed overland about seven miles on the Coastwatcher Trail into attack positions on the high ground overlooking the Japanese camp at Kaeruka. Artillerymen and Seabees would protect the beachhead.

At 0745 the main body set out from the beachhead and almost immediately began to encounter obstacles such as those with which Currin and his Raiders were even then struggling only a few miles to the northwest. The driving rain had turned the trail into a quagmire, and the dense jungle growth further retarded progress. Then, at around l000, by which time the column had advanced less than three miles, they came to the first of the two rivers described by the natives as “easily fordable.”  Obviously, they meant “during the dry season,” for now, after several days of torrential rain, the streams had become shoulder-deep millraces that could sweep unsupported men off their feet. Strong swimmers were quickly sent across to string ropes from bank to bank, and the men made their way across hand-over-hand along the ropes.

In spite of all obstacles, the column closed up into its attack position at about 1330, at which time Brown learned—to his immense gratification and no little surprise—that all of the Raiders, including Scotty Holmgrain’s, had caught up with their parent units This was no mean feat, for these men, heavily laden with arms and ammunition, had to travel at almost twice the rate of the main body, and some twice the distance, to catch up. But thanks to the delays the main body encountered at the river crossings, superb individual physical conditioning, and Raider esprit, the stragglers arrived in plenty of time to participate in the battle.

After a hasty visual reconnaissance of the objective area, Lieutenant Colonel Brown formulated his plan of attack and issued his orders. The general direction of attack would be to the south, with three companies on line and one in reserve. Bill Flake’s Company “Q” would attack on the right, guiding on the left bank of the Kaeruka River to its bend to the east, then cross and attack the enemy camp near the mouth of the river. Earle Snell’s Company “N” would attack straight ahead in the center, Captain Ray Brown’s Company “F,” 103rd Infantry, would attack straight ahead on the left, and Captain Ollie A. Hood’s Company’ “G,” lO3d Infantry, would be in reserve. There would be no mortar or artillery support for the attack because of a lack of communications, the rain by this time having soaked into all the radios and rendered them useless.

At 1405, all units crossed the line of departure and for the first 15 minutes advanced without resistance. Then as Company “Q” approached the bend in the river, it began to receive fire from enemy riflemen concealed in trees and “spider-trap” foxholes. As the Raiders deployed to dispose of this resistance, they began to receive heavier fire from across the river. By 1445, the flanking fire from the opposite bank had become so heavy that the Raiders could no longer advance, so Clark ordered both companies to cross, clean out this pocket of resistance, and continue the attack toward Kaeruka.

Under heavy rifle and machine-gun fire, Flake’s Raiders quickly tobogganed down the slippery river bank, splashed across the stream, and clambered up the far bank. By 1530, all of Company “Q” was across, but only part of one squad of Company “N.” Enemy fire had become so intense that Clark decided to halt the maneuver. By this time, the Raiders had lost contact with the Army company to their left, and Major Clark was out of communication with Lieutenant Colonel Brown. For all practical purposes, the Raiders were now on their own.

When Company “N” had attempted to cross the river, it immediately had come under fire from three machine guns, well positioned on the opposite bank. The leader of the point squad and two men of his point fire team were killed instantly, but the third member of the fire team, Private, first class, Ray F. Costello, managed to make it across the river and find cover behind the river bank. The remainder of the squad returned to the near bank and took cover as the rest of the company engaged the machine guns by fire. The enemy guns were well dug in, and it was obvious that the only possible way to knock them out would be with rifle grenades.

Costello soon realized that the Raiders across the river could not see the gun position and, in spite of his severe wounds, dragged himself to a position from which he could observe and adjust the fire of the grenadiers. In constant danger of being hit by enemy fire, as well as any of our grenades that fell short, Costello remained at his position, directing the fire until the machine gun was destroyed. Later, while being carried back to the aid station on a litter, he was hit again and died of his wounds on the following day. For his extraordinary heroism in this action, Private, first class, Costello was posthumously awarded the Army Distinguished Service Cross.

Meanwhile, Company “F” had encountered strong resistance in its zone, and in moving left to outflank the enemy position, opened up a large gap between its right and the left of Company “M”. Brown quickly committed Company “G,” his reserve, to fill the gap, and soon Captain Hood’s infantryman had advanced all the way to the beach against only scattered resistance. As a result of this maneuver, the enemy defense was split in two, and Company’ “G” was positioned squarely in the enemy’s rear, creating disorder in the ranks opposing the Raiders and Company “F.”

After three hours of hard fighting, the last of which had yielded very little progress, enemy resistance suddenly faded away before Bill Flake’s Company “Q,” and his Raiders quickly pushed through the Japanese defenses. Earle Snell simultaneously moved his Company “N” up through the jungle to exploit the confusion in the enemy ranks, and side by side the two Raider Companies drove to the sea. On the left, Company “P” also exploited the collapse of the enemy line and soon joined the other companies on the beach. The afternoon’s action had cost the Raiders 11 dead and 21 wounded, and the Army units 10 dead and 22 wounded. Japanese losses were 120 confirmed dead.

The dead Raiders were Privates, first class, Ray F. Costello and Franklin T Kelley and Privates Anthony B –Courtway, Jr., and William P. Haggerty of Company “N;” Privates, first class, Ray C Holford and Frederick 0. Schoeppel and Privates Melville M. Burkholder, Fredrick H. Jurgens, and Theodore Meyer of Company “Q;” and Staff Sergeant Robert J. Huff and Private, first class, Robert W. Fenton of Headquarters Company.

After the battle, there was no time for rest and recreation on the beach. Doctor (Lieutenant, junior grade) Charles W.Marsh, the 4th Raiders’ assistant battalion medical officer, and his corpsman were busy tending to the wounded, and everyone also was occupied in consolidating the position. While lieutenant Colonel brown was displacing his command post from the line, of departure to the beach, Major Clark busied himself setting up a perimeter defense before night overtook them. Assuming that the Japanese had some good reason for having a base at this particular point, Clark was very careful to see that the beach east of the river was strongly defended.

Company “G,” the Demolition Platoon, and Company “Q’ were positioned in line along the beach, facing seaward. Company “N” tied in with the right flank of “Q” and extended the line inland along the Kaeruka River. Company “F” closed the perimeter, digging in facing inland with its flanks tied in with companies “N” and “G.” As soon as the units were assigned to their defensive sectors, patrols were sent out to mop up bypassed points of resistance however, darkness forced them to return to the perimeter before contact was made.

Intermittently throughout the early part of the night enemy mortar shells fell on the beach within the perimeter, and well-concealed machine guns harassed the inland side, but the enemy sent no troops to probe the position, and there were no friendly casualties from the hostile fire. Infantrymen and Raiders alike were at first very spooky and fired at every shadow, but as the night wore on their senses adjusted to the environment, and over the position gradually settled an uneasy quiet, broken only by the wash of the surf, the rustle of wind-shaken palm fronds, and the occasional softly muttered expletives of some sleeping warrior vocalizing his nightmares.

About two hours past midnight, however, the subliminal background of now familiar, identifiable noises was rent by a dissonance, as the distant, but unmistakable, “chug, chug, chug” of marine diesels suddenly impinged on the awareness of the sharp-eared sentinels. Quickly the word was passed along the line, and all hands prepared for they knew not what. Major Clark ordered all of his machine-guns to reposition and relay to cover the beach and everyone to stand by to repel a landing. Soon the sounds of three engines could be distinguished clearly, and there was no doubt in anyone’s mind as to their identity—Japanese. But what was contained in the barges propelled by these engines was anyone’s guess. Nevertheless, the Americans prepared for the worst-case scenario—an attack—and, as the Japanese barges came ever closer to the beach, aimed their weapons at the sounds of the engines.

At a few minutes past 0200, three Japanese barges loomed out of the darkness opposite the junction of Company “G” and the Demolitions Platoon, and everybody commenced firing. Machine guns, automatic rifles, rifles, submachine guns, pistols, and hand grenades were brought to bear on the three barges by the units positioned on the beach, while Company “Q” fired rifle grenades from its position along the Kaeruka River.

At first, the Japanese seem to have believed they were being fired on by “friendly” forces and responded only with anguished shouts. When they finally realized the true nature of the situation and began to return fire, the barges were out of control, their exposed coxswains apparently having been killed almost immediately, and the counterfire was largely ineffective. A few enemy soldiers jumped overboard and splashed ashore but were quickly dispatched by a barrage of hand grenades and demolition bombs from Bob Smith’s Demolitions Platoon.

As the barges floated around aimlessly, the Raiders and infantrymen continued to pour a stream of fire and steel into them until one sank a few yards off the beach and the others broached in the surf. When the firing finally stopped and the smoke cleared from the battlefield, a head count revealed that one soldier and one Raider had been killed in the engagement. The dead Raider was Private, first class, William C. Lally, of the Demolitions Platoon. Of the 120 Japanese aboard the barges, 109 were killed that morning on the beach and in the surf. Eleven managed to escape into the jungle, but five of these were killed a few day’s later. The six survivors were to meet their fate one month later in one of those strange coincidences of time and space that convince us that truth, indeed, is stranger than fiction.

On August 2, on a beach in Rice Anchorage, New Georgia, at the mouth of the Pundakona River, 80 air miles from the Kaeruka beach, the same Demolition Platoon killed five of six Japanese attempting to land there. The sixth was captured, and Captain Nicholas Radford, the Japanese language officer, interrogated him. In the course of the interrogation, Radford learned that these six men were the only survivors of the battle of Kaeruka Beach. They had jumped overboard from their barges and swam to safety - After obtaining a native’s canoe, they set out for friendly territory. Thirty-one days later they arrived at Rice Anchorage (no longer friendly) and the end of the road, at least for five of them.

When day light came, the Raiders and soldiers went over the battlefield, retrieving enemy equipment and documents and inspecting the barges. It had been obvious that the Japanese had not been expecting the reception they got, and subsequent translations of the captured documents and interrogation of prisoner revealed that the barges were on a routine run to reinforce and resupply the Vangunu garrison. As the troops quickly discovered, the barges carried sizable cargoes of provisions, including fresh vegetables and live chickens. Rumor has it that the chickens were all killed in action and on the following day, accompanied by appropriate vegetables, were ingested with full culinary honors by the Raiders.

While work details were policing up the battlefield, combat patrols fanned out into the surrounding jungle to locate the survivors of the Kaeruka garrison and learned that the bulk of them were digging in on Cheke Point, a small promontory about 500 yards east of the Kaeruka River. Upon hearing this, Lieutenant Colonel Brown decided to move his force to Vura village, which he considered to be more defensible and easier supplied. Furthermore, Cheke Point was easily identifiable from the air and within range of the artillery at Oloana Bay, which Brown felt could bc used to neutralize the position at considerable savings in lives. Enroute to Vura on the afternoon of July I, the column was fired on from long range by machine-guns and a 37mm gun and suffered some casualties, but no ground attack developed.

From the new perimeter at Vura, Brown organized a coordinated, combined-arms attack on Cheke Point. On the second, after registering on the Point, an Army 105mm howitzer battalion that had arrived on the preceding day, fired all day long, and in the afternoon Admiral Fort’s flagship, the destroyer-mine -sweeper (DMS) Trever joined in the bombardment. On the third, as 18 SBDs conducted a strike on Cheke Point, Brown’s troops advanced and quickly reoccupied Kaeruka without firing a shot. Cheke Point was then taken with only minimal resistance, the bulk of the enemy having been evacuated to save them from the artillery and air bombardment In the attack, Brown’s force killed seven Japanese and destroyed several munitions and supply dumps they had missed on the first.

On July 4, Clark’s Raiders were detached from Lieutenant Colonel Brown’s force and transported on LCIs to Oloana Bay to rest and prepare for further action. The wounded were evacuated by PBYs, and the able-bodied cleaned their weapons, equipment, and bodies, and in general spruced up to move again. On the eighth the Raiders shoe-horned themselves into a single LCT for the 12-mile trip to Gatukai to search for the 50 to 100 Japanese troops reported by natives to be there. After patrolling the island for two rugged day’s and finding no Japanese, although there was much evidence of their recent presence, the Raiders returned to Oloana Bay to prepare for the return trip to Guadalcanal.

Meanwhile at Segi Point, those wonderful Seabees, civilians in Navy dungarees, who did not know one rank from the other and couldn’t have cared less, nominally sailors but often having to fight like Marines, had followed Currin’s Raiders ashore and launched their own assault on the swamps, rugged, jungle terrain. Running their heavy equipment—power shovels, bulldozers, graders, and rollers—around the clock, working under powerful floodlights at night, they drove steadily ahead with the construction of the badly’ needed airstrip. No talk here of union pay scales, or time and a half, or grievance committees. The only thing that mattered to this construction crew was that they had a job to do and a self-imposed deadline to meet.

On July 10, 10 days after the originally scheduled landing day, the field began limited operations as a fighter strip, just as Commander Painter had boasted in an earlier planning session. By the end of September, the field would handle 60 light bombers as well as the fighters. Painter’s permanent aircraft carrier, anchored to the bedrock at Segi Point, would be a lifesaver, adding to the staying power of the fleet in the nearby waters and the troops on the ground.

Long before the strip became operational, however, the continual growl of the construction equipment, the coming and going of masses of people by air and sea, and all the hurly-burly associated with the development of the air base had completely destroyed Coastwatcher Kennedy’s tranquility and upset his scouting routine. Although he fully appreciated the extra effort that had been put forth to rescue him, Kennedy’s pioneer spirit urged him to remove himself “far from the madding crowd” to a place where he could find peace and quiet. Accordingly, the long-time, and still most valued operator in the Southwest Pacific, moved his headquarters and operational base to the relative peace and quiet of Vangunu Island for the few weeks remaining before his career as a coastwatcher would be overcome by events.

Also on July 10, the same day the airfield became operational, and only a few miles away at Viru Harbor, the men who had rescued Kennedy and seized the real estate on which the base was constructed—Currin’s Raiders—embarked without fanfare for the return trip to Guadalcanal, arriving and debarking at Tetere on the eleventh. On the same day, Clark’s Raiders embarked at Oloana Bay and sailed for Guadalcanal, arriving at Tetere and debarking on the twelfth to rejoin the rest of the battalion.

The two operations in the eastern New Georgias had cost the 4th Raiders 26 dead and 42 wounded. On the other side of thc balance sheet were more than 300 dead Japanese and probably half that many wounded, the rescue of Kennedy and his coastwatcher operation, the securing of real estate for the Segi Point airstrip, and the seizure of Viru Harbor and Wickam Anchorage. In the days and weeks to come, these assets would greatly profit the Allies by facilitating ground, air, and naval operations in the New Georgias and the movement of stronger forces deeper and deeper into Japanese-held territory - Not a bad score for a previously untested organization.

For six day’s after returning to Guadalcanal, the 4th Raiders busied themselves with the myriad of administrative details that had gone begging while they were away and with reequipping and reorganizing. In addition to its combat casualties, the battalion had lost another 150 or so men to the ravages of malaria and other tropical diseases and was now more than 200 men understrength, hence considerable reorganization would be necessary. Nevertheless, the battalion managed to get cleaned up, patch its battered units together, and even find time to relax and unwind a bit before embarking for the move north and its part in the main battle which was under way on western New Georgia.

Copyright:  ReView Publications