A HERO like no other!
It Came Downto One Marine
by Vin Suprynowicz
On Nov. 15,2003, an 85-year-old retired Marine Corps Colonel died of
congestive heart failure at his home in La Quinta, Calif., southeast of Palm
Springs.
He was a combat veteran of World War II. Reason enough to honor him. But
this Marine was a little different. This Marine was Mitchell Paige.
On Guadalcanal the Marines struggled to complete an airfield. Yamamoto knew
what that meant. No effort would be spared to dislodge these upstart Yanks
from a position that could endanger his ships. Before long, relentless
Japanese counter attacks had driven supporting U.S. Navy from inshore waters.
The Marines were on their own.
As Platoon Sgt. Mitchell Paige and his 33 riflemen set about carefully
emplacing their four water-cooled 30-caliber Brownings, manning their
section of the thin khaki line which was expected to defend Henderson Field
against the assault of the night of Oct. 25, 1942, it's unlikely anyone
thought they were about to provide the definitive answer to that most
desperate of questions: How many able-bodied U.S. Marines does it take to
hold a hill against 2,000 desperate and motivated attackers?
But by the time the night was over, "The 29th (Japanese) Infantry Regiment
has lost 553 killed or missing and 479 wounded among its 2,554 men,"
historian Lippman reports. "The 16th (Japanese) Regiment's losses are
uncounted, but the 164th's burial parties handled 975 Japanese bodies....
The American estimate of 2,200 Japanese dead is probably too low."
You've already figured out where the Japanese focused their attack,haven't
you? Among the 90 American dead and seriously wounded that night were all
the men inMitchell Paige's platoon. Every one. As the night of endless
attacks wore on, Paige moved up and down his line, pulling his dead and
wounded comrades back into their foxholes and firing a few bursts from each
of the four Brownings in turn, convincing the Japanese forces down the hill
that the positions were still manned.
The citation for Paige's Medal of Honor picks up the tale: When the enemy
broke through the line directly in front of his position, Platoon Sgt.
Paige, commanding a machinegun section with fearless determination,
continued to direct the fire of his gunners until all his men were either
killed or wounded. Alone, against the deadly hail of Japanese shells, he
fought with his gun and when it was destroyed, took over another, moving
from gun to gun, never ceasing his withering fire."
In the end, Sgt. Paige picked up the last of the 40-pound, belt-fed
Brownings --the same design which John Moses Browning famously fired for a
continuous 25 minutes until it ran out of ammunition, glowing cherry red, at
its first U.S. Army trial -- and did something for which the weapon was
never designed. Sgt. Paige walked down the hill toward the place where he
could hear the last Japanese survivors rallying to move around his flank,
the belt-fed gun cradled under his arm, firing as he went.
And the weapon did not fail.
Coming up at dawn, battalion executive officer Major Odell M. Conoley was
first to discover the answer to our question: How many able-bodied Marines
does it take to hold a hill against two regiments of motivated,
combat-hardened infantrymen who have never known defeat?
On a hill where the bodies were piled like cordwood, Mitchell Paige alone
sat upright behind his 30-caliber Browning, waiting to see what the dawn
would bring.
One hill one Marine.
But "In the early morning light, the enemy could be seen a few yards off,
and vapor from the barrels of their machine guns was clearly
visible,"reports historian Lippman. "It was decided to try to rush the
position."
For the task, Major Conoley gathered together "three enlisted communication
personnel,several riflemen, a few company runners who were at the point,
together with a cook and a few messmen who had brought food to the position
the evening before."
Joined by Paige, this ad hoc force of 17 Marines counterattacked at 5:40 a.m.,
discovering that "the extremely short range allowed the optimum use of
grenades."They cleared the ridge.
And that's where the unstoppable wave of Japanese conquest finally crested,
broke, and began to recede. On an unnamed jungle ridge on an insignificant
island no one had ever heard of, called Guadalcanal.
But who remembers, today, how close-run a thing it was -- the ridge held by
a single Marine, in the autumn of 1942?
When the Hasbro Toy Co. called some years back, asking permission to put the
retired colonel's face on some kid's doll, Mitchell Paige thought they must
be joking.
But they weren't. That's his mug, on the little Marine they call "G.I. Joe."
And now you know........
GOD BLESS THE USA!
It Came Downto One Marine
by Vin Suprynowicz
On Nov. 15,2003, an 85-year-old retired Marine Corps Colonel died of
congestive heart failure at his home in La Quinta, Calif., southeast of Palm
Springs.
He was a combat veteran of World War II. Reason enough to honor him. But
this Marine was a little different. This Marine was Mitchell Paige.
On Guadalcanal the Marines struggled to complete an airfield. Yamamoto knew
what that meant. No effort would be spared to dislodge these upstart Yanks
from a position that could endanger his ships. Before long, relentless
Japanese counter attacks had driven supporting U.S. Navy from inshore waters.
The Marines were on their own.
As Platoon Sgt. Mitchell Paige and his 33 riflemen set about carefully
emplacing their four water-cooled 30-caliber Brownings, manning their
section of the thin khaki line which was expected to defend Henderson Field
against the assault of the night of Oct. 25, 1942, it's unlikely anyone
thought they were about to provide the definitive answer to that most
desperate of questions: How many able-bodied U.S. Marines does it take to
hold a hill against 2,000 desperate and motivated attackers?
But by the time the night was over, "The 29th (Japanese) Infantry Regiment
has lost 553 killed or missing and 479 wounded among its 2,554 men,"
historian Lippman reports. "The 16th (Japanese) Regiment's losses are
uncounted, but the 164th's burial parties handled 975 Japanese bodies....
The American estimate of 2,200 Japanese dead is probably too low."
You've already figured out where the Japanese focused their attack,haven't
you? Among the 90 American dead and seriously wounded that night were all
the men inMitchell Paige's platoon. Every one. As the night of endless
attacks wore on, Paige moved up and down his line, pulling his dead and
wounded comrades back into their foxholes and firing a few bursts from each
of the four Brownings in turn, convincing the Japanese forces down the hill
that the positions were still manned.
The citation for Paige's Medal of Honor picks up the tale: When the enemy
broke through the line directly in front of his position, Platoon Sgt.
Paige, commanding a machinegun section with fearless determination,
continued to direct the fire of his gunners until all his men were either
killed or wounded. Alone, against the deadly hail of Japanese shells, he
fought with his gun and when it was destroyed, took over another, moving
from gun to gun, never ceasing his withering fire."
In the end, Sgt. Paige picked up the last of the 40-pound, belt-fed
Brownings --the same design which John Moses Browning famously fired for a
continuous 25 minutes until it ran out of ammunition, glowing cherry red, at
its first U.S. Army trial -- and did something for which the weapon was
never designed. Sgt. Paige walked down the hill toward the place where he
could hear the last Japanese survivors rallying to move around his flank,
the belt-fed gun cradled under his arm, firing as he went.
And the weapon did not fail.
Coming up at dawn, battalion executive officer Major Odell M. Conoley was
first to discover the answer to our question: How many able-bodied Marines
does it take to hold a hill against two regiments of motivated,
combat-hardened infantrymen who have never known defeat?
On a hill where the bodies were piled like cordwood, Mitchell Paige alone
sat upright behind his 30-caliber Browning, waiting to see what the dawn
would bring.
One hill one Marine.
But "In the early morning light, the enemy could be seen a few yards off,
and vapor from the barrels of their machine guns was clearly
visible,"reports historian Lippman. "It was decided to try to rush the
position."
For the task, Major Conoley gathered together "three enlisted communication
personnel,several riflemen, a few company runners who were at the point,
together with a cook and a few messmen who had brought food to the position
the evening before."
Joined by Paige, this ad hoc force of 17 Marines counterattacked at 5:40 a.m.,
discovering that "the extremely short range allowed the optimum use of
grenades."They cleared the ridge.
And that's where the unstoppable wave of Japanese conquest finally crested,
broke, and began to recede. On an unnamed jungle ridge on an insignificant
island no one had ever heard of, called Guadalcanal.
But who remembers, today, how close-run a thing it was -- the ridge held by
a single Marine, in the autumn of 1942?
When the Hasbro Toy Co. called some years back, asking permission to put the
retired colonel's face on some kid's doll, Mitchell Paige thought they must
be joking.
But they weren't. That's his mug, on the little Marine they call "G.I. Joe."
And now you know........
GOD BLESS THE USA!
