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Tarawa: The Story of a Battle

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Robert Sherrod was a war correspondent for Time when he waded ashore Tarawa on the afternoon of D-Day, 11/20/43. Aboard his transport ship Sherrod heard fascinating tales of the Gilbert Islands before the war, tales told to him by his shipmates, Karl Tschaun and James Forbes. Both of these men had lived and worked among these island paradises and now returned to share their knowledge of the waters with the allies.

One does not get the big picture from such first hand accounts. Indeed, for the first three days Sherrod's movements were confined to an area 400 yards along the beach and no further inland than 100 yards. Instead, the reader hears the authentic voice of one who has been there, one who heard first hand the anticipation that the island would be a cake walk and then saw men horribly chopped to pieces as they went ashore. But for Sherrod to get to Tarawa he too had to wade 700 yards across the reef which surrounded and protected the island. During this march no fewer than five machine guns were firing upon him and the few Marines with him.

Reaching the beachhead, he sat for hours with his back to the coconut log seawall. A Marine walks by, a sniper hits his helmet and amazingly he is unharmed. The next one a moment later takes a bullet through the heart just inches from where Sherrod sat. Looking out over those coral flats the next morning "...a half dozen Marines lie exposed... They are hunched over, rifles in hand, just as they fell. Further out on the flats I can see at least fifty other bodies...The smell of death, that sweetly sick odor of decaying human flesh, is already oppressive. Now that it is light, the wounded go walking by... Some have bloodless faces, some have bloody faces, others only pieces of faces."

The second day was worse for the waves of men and machines coming ashore. Japanese reinforcements had moved across the island and waited for the assault craft and the men who trudged through the water. Through the trained eye of a seasoned reporter, Sherrod tells of the horror, the cacophony of large cannon fire, machine weapons, the crack of rifles and the unending shaking of the earth from multiple explosions. Across this half-mile square of hell and mangled bodies the Marines, the men of the 2nd Division, inched forward, dying by the hundreds but always moving towards the enemy.

Sherrod tells of their ultimate victory in a manner befitting their valor.

Robert Sherrod takes you on a voyage into the vast Pacific Ocean to the bloody beaches of Betio with the second marine Div. One of a handful of reporters with the invasion he makes use of notebooks kept while the battle was raging around him, and afterwards while the mopping up was going on, the bodies were being unceremoniously buried by bulldozer and the top brass were reviewing the carnage which cost around a thousand American lives. Full of imagery and horror, brought alive with details of overheard conversations and on the spot interviews with marines of all ranks and backgrounds. He details the formidable Japanese emplacements encountered and puts across his view of the reasons behind their stubborn resistance. He concludes with extensive American casualty lists. A very readable and personal account. Well worth while.

The definitive book of the Pacific War along with "Goodbye Darkness" by William Manchester. Sherrod's "Tarawa" is to books what "Saving Private Ryan" is to the movies. Except Tarawa is real while many of the scenes in Saving Private Ryan are recreations of anecdotal incidents which took place on the beaches of Normandy. Sherrod's Tarawa is an actural account of the grisly battle for Betio, which cost the lives of almost 1,000 Americans and thousands of Japanese Marines. Sherrod's "stream of conciousness" is much more vivid andeasier to read than than most technical descriptions of the battle. Tarawa and the opening battle scene of Private Ryan almost compliment each other, especially with Sherrod's description of almost being able to "reach out and touch a thousand bullets."

Robert Sherrod was a war correspondent for Time when he waded ashore Tarawa on the afternoon of D-Day, 11/20/43. Aboard his transport ship Sherrod heard fascinating tales of the Gilbert Islands before the war, tales told to him by his shipmates, Karl Tschaun and James Forbes. Both of these men had lived and worked among these island paradises and now returned to share their knowledge of the waters with the allies. He wrote much of his account on the flight back to the states and the book came out almost as a current event.

One does not get the big picture from such first hand accounts. Indeed, for the first three days Sherrod's movements were confined to an area 400 yards along the beach and no further inland than 100 yards. Instead, the reader hears the authentic voice of one who has been there, one who heard first hand the anticipation that the island would be a cake walk and then saw men horribly chopped to pieces as they went ashore. But for Sherrod to get to Tarawa he too had to wade 700 yards across the reef which surrounded and protected the island. During this march no fewer than five machine guns were firing upon him and the few Marines with him.

Reaching the beachhead, he sat for hours with his back to the coconut log seawall. A Marine walks by, a sniper hits his helmet and amazingly he is unharmed. The next one a moment later takes a bullet through the heart just inches from where Sherrod sat. Looking out over those coral flats the next morning "...a half dozen Marines lie exposed... They are hunched over, rifles in hand, just as they fell. Further out on the flats I can see at least fifty other bodies...The smell of death, that sweetly sick odor of decaying human flesh, is already oppressive. Now that it is light, the wounded go walking by... Some have bloodless faces, some have bloody faces, others only pieces of faces."

The second day was worse for the waves of men and machines coming ashore. Japanese reinforcements had moved across the island and waited for the assault craft and the men who trudged through the water. Through the trained eye of a seasoned reporter, Sherrod tells of the horror, the cacophony of large cannon fire, machine weapons, the crack of rifles and the unending shaking of the earth from multiple explosions. Across this half-mile square of hell and mangled bodies the Marines, the men of the 2nd Division, inched forward, dying by the hundreds but always moving towards the enemy.

Sherrod didn't sugar coat anything but when he told of their horrible deaths he also spoke of their valor, heroism and courage. What he did not do was wring his hands and moan about a quagmire, a foolish plan, and the needless deaths or ask what we had done to make the Japanese despise us so.

I am a WWII history buff and this is a "must have" book. Robert Sherrod was one the best war correspondence there was and this is a great book.

Jack Thompson

A great book on Tarawa. Second only to One Square Mile in Hell in my opinion. You can get the book cheaper at the Nimitz Museum / Museum of the Pacific War bookstore in Fredericksburg TX.

Robert Sherrod's on-sight narrative of this battle is one of the most powerful accounts of Americans at war that I have ever read.