October 11th, 1942...11,000 Jews are deported from Ostrowiec in Poland, to Treblinka, and their deaths.

Off Guadalcanal, the Japanese are preparing yet another naval attack. This time, Rear Adm. Aritomo Goto's Cruiser Division 6 is assigned the job. Goto's three heavy cruisers are to rain special 8-inch shells on Henderson Field. This ordnance is fitted with antiaircraft time fuses that burst the projectiles above ground to assure a wider scattering of fragments. Five of the six escorting destroyers will bring down troops, along with the seaplane tenders Nisshin and Chitose, carrying 150-mm howitzers, and field and flak guns.

The Japanese send in the entire 11th Air Fleet to support this mission with a clever plan...an initial fighter sweep will bring up the American defenders. After this battle, while the Americans refuel and re-arm, a second wave of Japanese planes will pound the airfield and knock out the defending aircraft.

At 1220 American radar picks off 17 incoming Zeros and the Cactus Air Force launches 31 Marine F4F Wildcats and a dozen P-400s and P-39s. The fighters brush lightly amid cloudy skies. The weather also breaks up the second Japanese wave, which arrives piecemeal only 45 minutes after the first wave. The Americans are still in the air, disrupting the Japanese plan. American fighters pounce on the incoming Betty bombers, and splash one Betty. The Americans lose on F4F and one P-39. The airfield is undamaged.

That afternoon, American search planes spot the incoming seaplane tenders, but not Goto. Scott turns his ships into Ironbottom Sound to intercept, for the first surface engagement since Savo Island.

The Japanese are racing into battle with three cruisers present at Savo: Aoba, Kinugasa, and Furutaka. Scott flies his flag in USS San Francisco, backed by the heavy cruiser USS Salt Lake City, and light cruisers Boise and Helena. The latter have five triple turrets of 6-inch shells and each turret can fire 30 rounds a minute. The Americans have more weight of shell. The Japanese have more and better torpedoes.

At 10 p.m., the Americans shoot off their seaplanes and cut speed to 20 knots, reducing their bow waves. The night sky is clear except for occasional heat lightning to the northwest of Ironbottom Sound. Scott shuffles his ships into battle formation, destroyers Farenholt, Duncan, and Laffey leading cruisers San Francisco, Boise, Salt Lake City, and Helena. Behind are destroyers Buchanan and McCalla. Scott plans to place his ships across the approaching enemy as he steams north, "Crossing the T" in Napoleonic fashion.

As Scott's ships deploy, the seaplane tender Nisshin, barrelling down the Slot, reports all clear to Goto.

At 10:50 p.m., San Francisco's search plane reports "one large, two small vessels, one six miles from Savo off northern beach, Guadalcanal. Will investigate closer." 40 minutes later, the plane amplifies the report to show the enemy 16 miles east of Savo, one mile off the beach.

At 11:33, Scott turns to heading 230 degrees column-wise by Talk Between Ships (TBS). Incredibly, the bridge crew on Scott's flagship is to get the order wrong. San Francisco's conn officers interpret the message as a simultaneous turn. San Francisco swings out of line, baffling Boise behind. Boise's captain follows naval tradition and follows San Francisco. So do the other ships. The three lead destroyers and the rest of the force are now in two separate columns. At that moment, Goto's ships emerge at 30 knots from under a tunnel of rainsqualls, flagship Aoba in the lead. SG radar on Helena picks off and plots the Japanese at 27,700 yards distant, course 120 degrees. The other ships, with less efficient SC radar, don't spot the Japanese.

But at 11:42, Helena's radar picks off the Japanese. Two minutes later, Boise announces on TBS that she has five "bogies" at 65 degrees. "Bogie" is code for an air contact, so now everyone is looking into the sky at 65 degrees for aircraft. Scott's carefully laid trap is falling apart.

The admiral sees his three loose destroyers, and asks Farenholt's Capt. Robert G. Tobin, "Are you taking station ahead?" Tobin answers, "Affirmative, coming up on your starboard side," and Farenholt and Laffey come alongside their flagship. But Duncan launches a lonely charge at the Japanese formation, having spotted them on radar. Duncan jumps to 30 knots at the Japanese from their port side. Laffey follows Farenholt.

At 11:45, San Francisco's fire control radar finally picks off the Japanese only 5,000 yards away. So do the ship's lookouts. A baffled San Francisco ensign says, "What are we going to do, board them?"

Helena's Capt. Ike Hoover TBS's to Scott, "Interrogatory Roger," the request for permission to open fire. Scott signals back, "Roger" three times, and at 11:46, Helena's 15 6-inch guns split open the night.

The barrage of armor-piercing ordnance and flame catches the Japanese by surprise. Their lookouts have already picked off the American ships, but believe they are the Japanese seaplane tenders. Goto orders his Aoba to flash the recognition signal and rudder left to 10 degrees. As Aoba makes the turn, Boise's shells arrive and demolish two 8-inch gun turrets and the main battery director. Fragments perforate the Flag Bridge, killing many men and mortally wounding Goto.

Salt Lake City and San Francisco join Boise in the barrage, and their shells straddle the American destroyer Laffey. Her skipper goes full astern emergency and out of trouble. At the same time, Duncan squares off to hurl torpedoes at Furutaka and instead takes a hit in her number one fireroom.

At 11:47, Scott begins to wonder where his three missing destroyers are, and orders, "Cease firing our ships." Scott climbs down from his flag bridge to San Francisco's bridge to ensure his ship complies, but others do not. Scott TBS's Tobin: "How are you?"

"I'm all right," Tobin answers.
"Are we shooting at you?"
"I do not know who you are firing at."
"Flash your recognition lights," Scott orders, and the American destroyers illuminate themselves. At 11:51, Scott resumes shelling the Japanese ships.

During this break, the Japanese realize they have been ambushed. Aoba's foremast has been toppled and only one turret is able to fire. At 11:50, she belches smoke and turns to flee, revealing her sister Furutaka behind. Her captain, Arake Tsutau, heels over to port, to avoid gunfire and aid Aoba.

The Americans hurl an impressive spray of radar-directed armor-piercing shells into Furutaka's hide, and one hit ignites the torpedo tubes, providing American gunners with a fine beacon.

Meanwhile, San Francisco's radar picks up the destroyer Fubuki 1,400 yards away. The cruiser snaps a searchlight beam on the destroyer to reveal her forward stack's two white Japanese identification bands. Boise and San Francisco open fire on her. Fubuki bursts into flames and starts to sink.

Both sides menace the three American destroyers amid the battle. A 6-inch shell hits Farenholt above her waterline and spews out a gusher of oil and water. Farenholt lists five degrees to port and withdraws from the battle.

The Japanese continue to shell Duncan. One Japanese shell blasts the gun director and wounds the torpedo officer. Chief Torpedoman's Mate D.H. Boyd fires the second torpedo in local control. More Japanese and four American shells slam into the destroyer, and the tincan, her rudder jammed hard left, stumbles away from the battle area.

Now the Americans have four targets in view - three Japanese and one American. The destroyer Buchanan fires three torpedoes at Furutaka, which hit the Japanese cruiser's engine room. Furutaka takes more than 90 hits, yet remains in action.

As the clocks on all ships creep up to midnight, quartermasters on both sides flip over huge pages in logbooks to the new date.

October 12th, 1942...USS Washington, escorted by cruiser USS Atlanta and destroyers Benham and Walke, steams north at 15 knots, her crew standing four hours on and off watches, all ships blacked out. The 15-inch guns are manned with reduced crews, the rest all manned and ready. The task force is escorting the 164th Infantry Regiment to Guadalcanal. At dawn, the ships go to General Quarters and rev up to 18 knots, shuffling into antisubmarine formation. By mid-afternoon, the force spots the islet of Ufawa.

Off Guadalcanal, the Battle of Cape Esperance continues. As ships strike eight bells, Scott decides to regroup his formation. He orders all ships to change course to 280 degrees to pursue the enemy.

At 12:06 a.m., Helena and Boise spot torpedo wakes from the Japanese cruiser Kinugasa. Boise heels hard to starboard and misses two fish by about 30 yards.

At 12:09, Kinugasa shows the expertise of Japanese lookouts and night optics as its gunners track on Boise's searchlights and gunflashes. Kinugasa hurls a tight pattern of shells at San Francisco and Boise, straddling the former and hitting the latter. Kinugasa also shows the expertise of Japanese ordnance designers with her shells, which are Type 91 AP Shells.

In 1924, Japanese officers noted that shells that landed just short of the target and continued their trajectory underwater to hit the target hull did more damage, causing extensive flooding. Repeated trial showed that blunt-nosed projectiles gave best performance in that situation, and a family of "Diving Shells" was manufactured for all calibers from 8-inches and up. Now, for the only time in the war, a Type 91 shell works as intended.

Kinugasa's Type 91 shell impacts on Boise' number one barbette, jamming it and starting a smoky fire. The turret officer orders the zone abandoned. 11 men reach the main deck before a second 8-inch shell penetrates the hull and explodes in the main magazine between turrets one and two. The cruiser's shells and exposed powder explode, sending a massive fire raging into the forward magazines, handling rooms, and two forward turrets. More than 100 bluejackets are instantly seared to death. Gas and smoke sets the forecastle afire. Smoke, debris, hot water and sparks fly against the forward directors and knock Capt. Edward J. Moran against the bulkhead. He orders the forward magazines flooded, but the very men supposed to do that are already dead.

But Boise's crew is well trained. The dead men have already saved their ship by leaving only a minimum of powder exposed and properly sealing other compartments. And as the explosion rips holes in the ship's hull, seawater gushes in, dousing the blaze.

Moran sheers Boise out of column to port, and cranks up to 30 knots, avoiding another shell that hits the water 50 yards away.

Behind Boise, USS Salt Lake City fires at Kinugasa to protect her wounded sister. Kinugasa hits Salt Lake City twice, killing one man in the engine room and reducing the cruiser's speed to 22 knots.

At 12:16, Scott changes course to 330 to press the enemy, but after a few more minutes of pointless firing, the enemy is silenced and retreating. Scott orders retirement at 12:20 a.m.

On Boise, the fire is out on the forecastle, but two turrets remain ablaze. Crewmen open hatches to aim their hoses, but bodies block the hatches. By 2:40 a.m., fires are out, holes plugged. At 3:05 a.m., Boise rejoins the formation at 20 knots.

On the northern side of the water, Goto lies dying on the bridge of Aoba. He orders his chief of staff, Capt. Kikunori Kijima, to take over. Kijima says to Goto, "You can die with an easy mind. Two American heavy cruisers have been sunk."

Meanwhile, the blasted Furutaka loses power. She sinks at 2:28 a.m.

Last to leave is USS Duncan, which is blazing. Her skipper, Lt. Cdr. Edmund B. Taylor, trapped on the bridge with fires above and below, orders abandon ship. As 20 mm ammunition goes off, Taylor and his bridge crew jump over the side at 1:30 a.m.

At dawn, Scott's task force heads south under air cover. The Japanese send 41 Betty bombers to avenge the loss of Furutaka, but fail to find the Americans. USS McCalla searches the battlefield to find the blazing wreck of USS Duncan. McCalla crewmen quench the fires and find that everything but the hull structure itself has melted. The McCalla Sailors plug holes and quench fires until 11 a.m., when they take a break. While eating C-rations, the Sailors hear a rumbling sound - a bulkhead is collapsing. The Sailors abandon her, and Duncan sinks shortly after noon.

Aircraft and boats from Guadalcanal save 195 Duncan Sailors. Meanwhile, McCalla encounters survivors from Fubuki. The Japanese refuse thrown lines. McCalla forcibly hauls aboard three swimmers.

The Japanese plod north, under American air attack. 11 Marine SBDs bounce the destroyers Shirayuki and Murakomo at 8:20 a.m. A second group of Navy TBFs torpedo Murakomo and destroy her engine room. Murakomo wallows in the water, and the cans Asagumo and Natsugomo come to her relief.

The Americans hit back with 11 SBDs and one TBF covered by eight F4Fs and four P-39s. They find the sick destroyer and her three healthy sisters at 3:45 p.m. Lt. Cdr. John Eldridge delivers a near miss that floods Natsugomo. After Asagumo takes off survivors, Natsugomo and her captain go to the bottom. Other bombs ignite fires on Murakomo, and she is scuttled with a torpedo.

Japanese losses total one heavy cruiser, three destroyers, and at least 565 men: 258 on Furutaka, 79 on Aoba, 78 on Fubuki, 22 on Murakomo, and 17 on Natsugomo. Also lost are 111 Fubuki Sailors who become POWs, and Goto himself.

Also lost is Japanese pride. It is their first defeat in a surface action since the Russo-Japanese War. As Goto has died a samurai's death, Kijima is left to explain things to the Combined Fleet staff. Kijima blames faulty air reconnaissance and the ignoring of a report from the submarine I-26 of approaching enemy ships. Indeed, the Japanese performance at Esperance is a mirror image of American performance at Savo Island two months before.

Goto was lethargic, and did not have his ships ready for action. Admiral Matome Ugaki, Chief of Staff for the Combined Fleet, sums the battle up neatly for his boss, Isoroku Yamamoto, saying a Japanese proverb, "Treat a stranger as a thief."

American losses are one destroyer, Duncan, and 163 dead: 107 on Boise, 48 on Duncan, three on Farenholt, five on Salt Lake City. 125 Americans are wounded.

American morale soars. Scott's report pays tribute to his captains for ship handling, surprise, and planning. However, American officers study Scott's report and draw the wrong conclusions. They are fascinated with Scott's single long, tight, densely packed formation, and believe American radar-directed gunnery will be superior to Japanese torpedoes. Scott will pay for this faulty reasoning with his life.

Boise's crew draws high praise for their brilliant damage control efforts and courage. When the ship goes home, a Navy publicist christens her "the one-ship fleet," which only succeeds in irritating the other ships' crews in the battle.

A junior officer on Helena, Charles Cook, has the best analysis of the fight, "Cape Esperance was a three-sided battle in which chance was the major winner." Luck favored Scott's bravery and his preparation.

However, Scott's efforts do not impede the Japanese objective - unloading reinforcements. Guadalcanal remains besieged.

SC 104, a British convoy of 44 merchant ships, en route to England, runs into 13 German U-Boats amid the "black gap," where no air escort can be provided. The U-boats pounce. Lt. Cdr. Trojer in U-221 sinks three ships in short order. The small escorts are tossed about the Atlantic swell and cannot operate their asdics.

The Nazi rulers of occupied Trondheim, in Norway, lift harsh restrictions after a series of reprisals for a RAF raid on Gestapo headquarters in Oslo.

At Stalingrad, Col. Gen. Andrei Yeremenko counterattacks at the Tractor Factory. The 37th Guards gets the job, and Soviet troops charge into the ruined housing settlements, gaining about 300 yards.

October 13th, 1942...At daybreak, the USS Washington's transports land the 164th Infantry at Guadalcanal's Lunga Point. The battleship and her escorts maneuver east of San Cristobal and Malaita, but no enemy forces attack.

At 5 a.m., the submarine USS Grampus lies submerged off the southwest coast of the island of Vella Lavella, in the Solomons. Her captain, Cdr. J.R. Craig, uses 19th-century German guesswork and 18th-century charts to figure out the coastline. They don't match. He summons the two Australian Coastwatchers aboard, Henry Josselyn and John Keenan, to help, but they've never been to their new post either.

Craig spends the day looking for a break in the reef, avoiding a Japanese submarine, to no avail.

Off Guadalcanal, two US minesweepers forcibly haul in 111 survivors of Fubuki, much to both sides' displeasure.

That same morning, two American transports reach Lunga Roads and commence unloading. Going ashore are 210 men of First Marine Air Wing, 85 Marine replacements, and, most importantly, 2,850 men of the 164th Infantry Regiment of the North Dakota National Guard. This regiment is part of the Americal Division, formed in Noumea, New Caledonia, from homeless National Guard regiments left without a division (when American divisions switched from square four-regiment formations to three). The 164th is well led by Lt. Col. Bryant E. Moore, a West Pointer. On one occasion, Moore once swooped down on a company commander and first sergeant, and ordered them to exchange jobs and ranks. The Guardsmen come ashore to find exhausted and malarial Marines, and are greeted by an attack of 27 Bettys and 18 Zeros. The Americans only splash one Zero and one Betty.

The Japanese, however, hammer the runway, igniting 5,000 gallons of gasoline, and destroy 12 planes, including a B-17.

That afternoon, 12 Marine F4Fs with Capt. Joseph Foss greet the 61st Japanese air raid of the Guadalcanal Campaign. Foss forgets to turn on his radio, so he doesn't know why his wingman dives away. Tracers in his canopy give Foss the answer. He claims a kill, but Japanese records show all Zeros return. Foss is forced to return to base with a windmilling propeller.

The Americans also unload 12 37mm AA guns, ammunition, provisions, and 16 British Bren gun carriers, familiar sights to Commonwealth forces, but something new to Americans. The little tracked carriers, however, are useful for hauling supplies and men through the jungles.

Vandegrift now has 23,088 men to defend his perimeter. That afternoon, his planes seek out a Japanese "high-speed convoy" of six fast transports, loaded with the 16th Infantry Regiment, two battalions of 230th Infantry Regiment, and 824 men of 4th Maizuru Special Naval Landing Force. Also aboard these ships are one battery each of 100-mm guns and 150-mm howitzers, one battalion of AA guns, the 1st Independent Tank Company's T97 tanks, ammo and provisions. Eight destroyers screen this group.

At 6:30 p.m., the Japanese ground forces open fire with 150-mm howitzers on Henderson Field. These two pieces of 1st Battery, 4th Field Heavy Artillery Regiment are well out of range from American guns. They hurl shells onto Henderson Field, forcing a temporary closure. The Americans nickname the heavy Japanese gun "Pistol Pete."

Vandegrift has not reached the rank of major general by seniority alone. He knows that the combination of air strike and artillery bombardment heralds bad news. Sunset leads to a menacing darkness. Vandegrift orders his men to stand to.

Vandegrift is right. Steaming undetected through the gathering tropical gloom are the battlecruisers Kongo and Haruna under Rear Adm. Takeo Kurita. These are two of Japan's oldest and most powerful dreadnoughts. The former was built in England, lead ship of her four-vessel class. The latter has been mistakenly reported sunk by American propaganda through the war, most famously off Lingayen in 1941 by Lt. Colin Kelly.

Despite the propaganda, however, Haruna is alive, and her ammo hoists are loaded with Type 3 14-inch shells. These shells contain a modest bursting charge designed to scatter 470 individual incendiary sub-munitions over a wide area. The shell is for anti-aircraft work, but is also a fine anti-personnel weapon. A gunnery officer from the battleship Yamato sits atop Mount Austen to handle fall of shot tracking. The Japanese battlewagons are to hurl shells in a barrage pattern into a 2,200-meter square area overlapping Henderson Field and the backup fighter strip.

The Royal Air Force dispatches 288 aircraft, including 82 Lancasters, to attack the German port of Kiel. The RAF finds a decoy fire site operating and at least half the attackers pound the decoy fire, incinerating empty fields. The rest ignore the fire and hit the city's southeastern suburbs. The Germans report the destruction of 17 city buses, 150,000 square meters of roof tiling and 150,000 square meters of glass. German casualties are 41 killed and 101 injured. The Luftwaffe's Flak gunners hold their fire until the bombers are over the town, a ploy to hinder British target identification. The citizens, however, are annoyed that the Flak is not banging away. The RAF loses eight aircraft.

The disguised German merchant raider Komet puts to sea from Dunkirk, trying to race down the English Channel to the Atlantic Ocean. Escorted by four E-Boats, it runs into a Fleet Air Arm Swordfish at 9 p.m., which drops flares. The Komet sails on.

Lt. Cdr. Trojer, in U-221 back amid SC 104, sinks four more ships. He sinks seven ships all told for 40,000 tons. His colleagues don't do as well, sinking one other ship.

At Stalingrad, German and Russian troops are battling for yards. Gen. Friedrich Paulus counters yesterday's Soviet counterattack with his own moves, and vicious fighting ensues. Back in Germany, the official Wehrmacht accounts of the battle give rise to mock communiqués like this one: "Our troops captured a two-roomed flat with kitchen, toilet and bathroom, and managed to retain two-thirds of it despite hard-fought counterattacks by the enemy."

Meanwhile, Paulus asks Berlin for help, seeking the replenished 14th Panzer Division and 29th Motorized Division be sent in. No, they're the only reserves in the southern front. Instead he gets the 305th Infantry Division under Maj. Gen. Steinmetz and part of the 14th Panzers. Paulus orders the 305th, backed by 14th and 24th Panzer Division, to attack into the Tractor Factory. The 94th and 389th will clear the city's valleys. Assault guns and assault engineers will assist, along with all the 51st Corps' artillery.

Soviet partisans blow 178 gaps in the Bryansk-Lgov railway. Specially trained demolition experts who have been parachuted into the area accomplish this.

October 14th, 1942...USS Washington sounds General Quarters at dawn, and the battleship and her escorts head south from San Cristobal, bound for Espiritu Santo. Washington zigzags to avoid submarines.

At 1:29 a.m., USS Grampus surfaces off Vella Lavella's Mundi Mundi plantation, amid an oily calm sea. The crew undoes the after hatch, hauls up the rubber boats, and inflates them. Then the crew forms a bucket brigade to load the Coastwatchers' gear into the boats. Josselyn hops into the collapsible canoe, and ties a line around his waist, attaching it to the rubber boats. He rows the convoy ashore while Keenan holds his thumb on a torn hole in the second rubber boat.

It takes Josselyn three hours of paddling to reach the coral reef. There he leaves Keenan with the boats, while paddling around to find an opening. No luck. He decides to shoot the breakers and go straight for the reef and into the lagoon.

Josselyn and Keenan transfer to the first rubber boat and tow their convoy across, paddling with all their strength. They catch a wave just right, surge over the reef, and land in the lagoon. The second boat, now hopelessly waterlogged, spins sideways, and capsizes, hurling crates and food packs into the surf.

Josselyn and Keenan scramble to save their gear. They lose only three food packs and one case containing money, tobacco, binoculars and two bottles of whiskey. The teleradio is safe in the first boat.

By 5 a.m., they are across the lagoon, and haul their gear ashore. They store their gear amid a clump of mangrove trees, just as a Kawanishi flying boat rumbles by on patrol.

The two eat breakfast (from Grampus's galley), pitch a small tent and fall asleep, soaking wet.

Grampus heads off to Choiseul to drop off Nick Waddell and Carden Seton. They're all set to unload the Coastwatchers, when Southwest Pacific HQ orders the sub to take station immediately off Visu Visu Point off New Georgia's northern coast. Grampus heads off to face the enemy, and runs into Raizo Tanaka's convoy heading south. Grampus attacks, but scores no hits.

At 1:30 a.m., "Louie The Louse" chugs his way over Guadalcanal, setting off American air raid sirens and hurling Marines and Navy men from their bunks and into dugouts.

One minute later the Japanese battleships Kongo and Haruna cut speed to 18 knots, course 77 degrees. Their gunnery officers align range finders on three reference lights on the Japanese-held coast. "Louie" brackets Henderson Field with flares.

At 1:33:30, Kongo opens fire. A minute later, Haruna joins the barrage. The 14-inch shells hit west of the runway, but the Japanese walk their fire across the airfield, setting off aircraft, ammo dumps, gasoline tanks, turning night into day. The battlewagons sail in parade formation past American 5-inch batteries, which answer back uselessly. Japanese Sailors on weather decks of Kongo and Haruna watch the explosions and cheer.

Ashore the Americans endure one of the most concentrated shellings in history. To Coastwatcher Martin Clemens, "the ground shook with the most awful convulsions." Joe Foss admits later that he shook uncontrollably, and says, "It seemed as if all the props had been kicked from under the sky and we were crushed beneath."

In his command dugout, Vandegrift and his aides watch the fireworks. "I don't know how you feel," says the operations officer, "But I prefer a good bombing or artillery shelling."

"I think I do," says Vandegrift, who is cut off by a shell that knocks everyone around like ninepins. "A man comes close to himself at such times," Vandegrift says later. "And until someone has experienced naval or artillery shelling or aerial bombardment, he cannot easily grasp a sensation compounded of frustration, helplessness, fear, and in the case of close hits, shock..."

The Japanese check fire and turn about at 2:13 a.m. During the lull, Navy Lt. Frederick Mears, an aviator, joins about 70 men who pile into a truck to drive to the beach to escape the main impact area. "Men were yelling, even crying and trying to hide behind one another or force their way to the bottom of the truck," Mears says later.

When the Japanese resume fire, smoke and flame obscures their reference points, so they rely on a mechanical "shelling disk" to plot fire. However, the Type 3 shells are all used up, and Kongo and Haruna have to fall back on their armor-piercing ordnance, not much use against soft targets. In fact, one shell hits the HQ of 11th Marines, and kills nobody.

American PT Boats take their shot at Kongo and Haruna, as Lt. Cdr. Allen Montgomery's MTB Squadron 3 races out. The Americans hurl torpedoes at the Japanese for no hits, but their attack frightens Kurita (whose career shows a remarkable lack of Samurai spirit and aggressiveness). He cuts bombardment five minutes early. At 2:56 a.m., his ships cease-fire and crank up to 29 knots for the trip home.

The Japanese have fired 973 shells in "The Bombardment," but the Americans get no letup - more Japanese planes and "Pistol Pete" add more shellfire to the night.

At dawn, exhausted Marines find Henderson Field unusable, all avgas burned, wreckage everywhere. Only seven of 39 SBDs can fly, and none of the TBFs. But 24 of 42 F4Fs, four P-400s and two P-39s are ready to defend Guadalcanal.

Despite the rain of steel, only 41 of 20,000 Americans lie dead. Among the dead is Major G.A. Bell, CO of VMSB-141.

"The Bombardment" impresses the 164th Infantry, which sustains only three fatalities.

Adm. Isoroku Yamamoto, commander of the Combined Fleet, signals Tokyo that Guadalcanal is "suppressed" and orders his ships south to find, fix, and strike the US fleet. He also orders six transports and eight destroyers to resupply Guadalcanal.

Vandegrift signals his boss, Vice Adm. Robert Ghormley, "Urgently necessary this force receive maximum support of air and surface units. Absolutely essential aviation gas be flown here continuously."

Ghormley has nothing to send. Scott's battered task force is replenishing. Ghormley's only carrier, Hornet, is replenishing. Ghormley himself, battered by exhaustion and an abscessed tooth, is indecisive.

Not so is Adm. Aubrey Fitch, commanding naval aviation in the South Pacific. A carrier commander at Coral Sea, Fitch sends all available SBDs (17, including eight from USS Enterprise) to Guadalcanal immediately and 20 F4Fs from VMF-212.

That's nice, Guadalcanal signals back, but we can't fuel them.

Fitch organizes an airlift of Army and Marine DC-3 transports to bring in 10 drums a flight. Each 55-gallon drum can keep an F4F in the air for one hour. Gen. Alexander Patch, commanding the US Army forces in New Caledonia, also helps, donating all his spare shoes and clothing to the ragged Marines.

At 12:13, 26 Betty bombers streak over Henderson and rain bombs on the island. The Americans are caught unawares - due to an earlier false alarm - and are busy draining fuel from wrecked planes to get something in the air. The Japanese rake the base.

At 1 p.m., the 22nd Air Flotilla is back with 12 Bettys, but every American plane that can fly is waiting. The Japanese lose four Bettys. The Americans lose a Wildcat and an Airacobra.

That afternoon, Lt. Col. J.C. "Toby" Munn, a Marine air staff officer, tells 67th Fighter Squadron's pilots: "I want you to pass the word along that the situation is serous. We don't know whether we'll be able to hold the field or not. There's a Japanese task force of destroyers; cruisers and troop transports headed this way. We have enough gasoline left for one mission against them. Load your airplanes with bombs and go out with the dive-bombers and hit them. After the gas is gone we'll have to let the ground troops take over. Then your officers and men will attach themselves to some infantry outfit. Good luck and goodbye."

Using fuel drained from a damaged B-17, the Americans hurl seven P-39s and nine Navy SBDs against the incoming Japanese convoy, but are only able to lightly damage the destroyer Samidare.

All across the perimeter, the Americans await the next Japanese attack, with a feeling of doom.

At Rabaul, General Miyazaki, 17th Army's chief of staff, notes that his convoy is heading south without harassment. "The arrow has already left the bow," he writes. By dawn tomorrow, the outcome of the campaign will be decided, he believes.

Australian troops advance through New Guinea's muck along the Kokoda Trail. Each Australian soldier carries up to five days rations, half a blanket, a groundsheet, soap, a toothbrush, half a towel, half a Dixie, a water-bottle, his weapon, and ammunition. Three men share one shaving kit. Each rifleman carries his own Lee-Enfield and 100-150 rounds of .303 caliber ammunition. Native bearers carry mortar bombs when the carriers are available. Otherwise company HQ men haul mortars, bombs, and Vickers machine guns. The infantrymen carry Bren guns in turn. Each battalion has five carrier loads of medical gear; cooking gear; two picks, two axes; one machete and one spade per section; six telephones and six wireless sets. The Japanese carry far less equipment. But as the Australians advance, they find that the Japanese have been eating flesh cut from dead Australians.

Lt. Gen. Joseph Stilwell has dinner with his boss, Chiang Kai-Shek. Chiang gives Stilwell full authority to train Chinese troops to American standard and equipment in Ramgarh, India, and then lead them in the liberation of Burma.

At 2 a.m., the Komet finds itself surrounded by British MTBs, which pour ordnance and torpedoes into the German ship. At 2:15 a.m., MTB 236, under Lt. R.Q. Drayson, RNVR, bears in with throttles open. Drayson fires a torpedo that sets off a towering ball of fire hundreds of yards into the sky. Komet's back is broken, and the ship disintegrates, pieces whirling through the air. Her captain and all 350 crewmen are killed in the blaze, which is presumed to have ignited the ship's aviation gas and forward magazines.

In Stalingrad, a moderate rain does not disrupt Paulus' timetable. Instead, a Soviet spoiling raid catches some attacking Germans just after midnight.

But just before dawn, German artillery opens up on the Tractor Factory. The Germans have air superiority, so they can spot targets, but their supply chain has exhausted the original allotment of shells. A single railroad, trucks, and horse-drawn wagons supply Stalingrad. German gunners joke that "hundreds of batteries are in position before the city, but each has only one round of ammunition."

Nonetheless, the attack goes in. Artillery pounds the Tractor Factory. German infantry move forward under heavy machine gun fire. Many German troops have swapped their KAR rifles for captured Soviet PPsh M1941 submachine guns. The Luftwaffe moves in, adding to the destruction and the din. Fighting rages all day, in every cellar and ruin. Soviet artillery shells the Germans from the east bank. The Nazis line up 300 tanks to attack the Tractor Factory. By dusk, the Tractor Factory's immense buildings are surrounded on three sides, but the streets are littered with 3,000 dead, mostly East Prussians of 24th Panzer and Hessians of 389th Infantry. Volga ferries evacuate 3,500 Russian wounded, the largest total for any single day of battle.

In the Polish city of Piotkrow, the Germans begin the deportation of 22,000 Jews to Treblinka. Lusia Miller, a young girl among the deportees, writes, "It is true that it is terrible; terribly sad that young people die, because everything, everything wants to live in me. And yet, at such a young age, at thirteen, one is only beginning to discover life. And perhaps it is just as well that it is so early. I don't know. But I really do not want to die."
Miller is gassed at Treblinka three days later.

October 15th, 1942...USS Washington anchors at Espiritu Santo at 3:37 p.m. and starts fuelling destroyers USS Benham and USS Walke. After that, the oiler Kankakee refuels Washington and the cruiser USS Atlanta. To make life interesting, enemy planes are reported at 7:30 p.m. The Washington's crew scrambles to GQ, and the battleship steams out of port in 15 minutes. The enemy planes turn out to be phantoms.

The day begins at Guadalcanal with the Japanese "High-Speed Convoy" unloading at Tassafaronga, without American interference. Another Japanese "Tokyo Express" convoy unloads 1,100 soldiers and ammunition at Kamimbo, along with equipment to set up a base for a favorite Japanese weapon: two-man midget submarines.

The Japanese use a more familiar weapon against the Americans in the dark: the 8-inch shells of cruisers Chokai and Kinugasa, which hurl 752 shells at the American perimeter.

At dawn, the American defenders gaze with awe and disgust at the superstructures of Japanese transports off the Guadalcanal coastline. The ships are protected by Zero fighters from the carriers Hiyo and Junyo standing further offshore.

At 6 a.m., a flight of six F4Fs of VMF-121 strafes the Japanese. One pilot collides with a Japanese floatplane. The pilot, Lt. E.T. Stover, returns with a section of Japanese wing fabric on his plane.

The Americans have only three SBDs ready to fly, and one ground loops in a crater while taking off, while another falls into another crater. The US is down to its last dive-bomber, which manages to hit a transport, despite having hydraulics trouble.

The Americans repair planes one by one and launch them to face the invaders, but are short of fuel, taking avgas from damaged planes. When this source runs dry, someone remembers that Col. Louis Woods has cached an emergency reserve. The top brass would have known about this had they read Woods' memo on that subject. Woods has built up this reserve by padding expenditure reports to accelerate the forwarding of more fuel supplies, a fascinating comment on military bureaucracy. Marines search round the perimeter and find 465 barrels, enough for two days of operations.

The Americans scrape up a dozen SBDs, three P-39s, a P-400, eight F4Fs, and General Geiger's personal transport, a PBY-5A Catalina, with torpedoes slung beneath. The PBY's pilot, Major Jack Cram, gets briefed on his new role by Lt. Cdr. Simpler, whose expertise is as follows: Simpler's brother-in-law is a torpedo bomber pilot.

This motley crew attacks the Japanese at 10:30 a.m. and puts a bomb in the Sasago Maru, which sends the Japanese transport to the bottom.

At 11 a.m., Japanese bombers pound Henderson Field to no opposition, while the transports unload their men and troops. At 11:45, B-17 Flying Fortresses from Espiritu Santo attack the retreating convoy, and the bombers sink the Azumasan Maru. They also torch the Kyushu Maru, which beaches itself, a total loss. Clearly, the Japanese cannot move ships off Guadalcanal by day.

At 5 p.m., the Japanese head home, without fully unloading, a third of their supplies still aboard.

While this is going on, the US destroyers Nicholas and Meredith are shepherding three gasoline barges under tow to Guadalcanal.

Vice Adm. Robert Ghormley, commander of the Southwest Pacific, messages Adm. Chester Nimitz, the Commander-in-Chief of the Pacific Fleet, "My forces are totally inadequate to meet the situation." Nimitz has nothing material to send Ghormley - three of the four carriers are in the repair shop, so is one of the two fast battleships, and nothing coming until 1943. But Nimitz is concerned about the level of leadership.

Ghormley is a well-liked man with a keen brain - he served as an observer in England in 1940, determining what Britain needed in the way of Lend-Lease help - but he lacks aggressiveness. His manner radiates defeatism, which is rampant at his headquarters, the USS Argonne. Ghormley's strong sense of duty has confined the admiral to his sweatbox flagship office for months on end, without recreation or exercise. There, he sweats endless detail, losing sight of a Nimitz memo, "Remember, the enemy is hurt, too." Ghormley also suffers from painfully abscessed teeth.

Nimitz summons his staff in Pearl Harbor to discuss Ghormley. Nimitz's blue eyes flash gray as he points up America's biggest weakness in the South Pacific: the lack of aggressive leadership. Nimitz tells his staff that Ghormley is an intelligent and dedicated officer. The question: is he tough enough to face the coming crisis, and can he inspire men to feats beyond their known capabilities? The staff has a unanimous answer. No.

So who will replace him, Nimitz asks.

The answer comes from a name just off the sick list. Vice Adm. William F. Halsey has finally recovered from his skin infection (brought on by fatigue in the first months of the war) and is well regarded for his talents as a leader, fighter, and inspirer of men. His rugged good looks and aggressive personality have brought him success as a task force commander and renown in the press as a salty character.

Nimitz sends a request to Adm. Ernest King, Navy Commander-in-Chief, to approve the decision to replace Ghormley with Halsey. King's reply is brutal and short: "Affirmative."

US forces bomb and shell the island of Tarawa in the central Pacific. The Japanese have POWs there, seven New Zealand Coastwatchers (all civilians seconded from the Post and Telegraph Department) and 10 soldiers, captured in 1941. During the raid, one prisoner escapes, and waves to American planes. Armed Korean laborers search for the prisoner, find him, and shoot him in the open. The Japanese then hustle the native population away from the POW cage, and the senior Japanese official beheads the prisoners with a sword. All 17 are killed. The New Zealand government posthumously mentions them in dispatches and gives the civilians military rank, so that their dependents can gain pension rights and privileges.

The SC 104 convoy battle rages on. HMS Viscount sinks the German U-619 by ramming it at high speed. HMS Fame depth charges U-353, which surfaces. Before the U-boat sinks, British Sailors board the submarine and seize its papers, including valuable codebooks.

Fierce fighting rages on at Stalingrad. The 305th Infantry attacks the Tractor Factory, and splits the 62nd Army. 24th Panzers' tanks reach the bank of the Volga River at the factory's north end. Shelling burns down Soviet Gen. Vassily Chuikov's telephone lines, so 62nd Army's commander doesn't know what's going on. Chuikov asks permission to withdraw his headquarters across the river. Yeremenko refuses. It would be bad for morale.

German troops attack Soviet positions from the rear, surrounding 112th Division, battling through wooden housing quarters, which become infernos in the fighting. 2nd Battalion, 103rd Panzergrenadiers, finds an open street to the river, and 24th Panzers reaches the Volga. The battalion's CO, Hauptmann Domaschk, receives the Knight's Cross. 51st Corps reports the destruction of 20 enemy tanks, the capture of 1,028 POWs, four locomotives, 60 freight cars, three disabled railway guns (including an armored train), plus scores of machine guns, mortars, and light artillery pieces. 37th Guards and 95th Rifle Divisions have lost 75 percent of their men and most of their heavy weapons. 84th Armored Brigade is down to a company of tanks. Chuikov sends in his service troops and lightly wounded to hold the line.

The fighting continues in the northern towns of Rynok and Spartanovka, where the German 16th Panzer Division fights its way towards the "Mushrooms," two huge bunkers bristling with machine guns and light artillery, surrounded by zig-zagging trenches. The Germans seize the smaller fort, and line up assault guns for the "Big Mushroom." German troops battle from room to room. Assault engineers set their charges so close they are wounded by their debris. As night falls, cooks and mechanics from 16th Panzer mount guard for the exhausted combat soldiers.

The German 94th Division, weakened by casualties and dysentery, fights to clear the Orlovka Creek. Rocket launchers are teamed with the understrength rifle companies. The Germans run into heavy fire and minefields, which cost the 274th Infantry Regiment nearly every company and battalion officer.

In the factories, German troops battle through workhalls and narrow streets. Armored vehicles are trapped and disabled by Soviet anti-tank guns that fire at point-blank range from the rubble. The 6th Army is rapidly becoming exhausted.

Bomber Command sends 289 aircraft to Cologne, and run into wind trouble. The Pathfinders have trouble marking the target sufficiently to attract the Main Force from another decoy fire site, which receives most of the bombs. Out of 71 4,000-lb. "cookies" (known to the press as "blockbusters") carried to Cologne, only one hits the city. Three out of 231 high-explosive bombs hit Cologne, and 210 incendiaries out of 68,590. 226 houses are damaged, but only two seriously, four injured. The RAF loses 18 aircraft, 6.2 percent of the force.

The Soviet government issues a note warning that any leaders of Nazi Germany who are captured will face trial by a special "People's Court." The Soviets demand that Rudolf Hess be tried as a war criminal, and complain about "Dame Myra Hess" playing the piano in a lunchtime recital at London's Royal Exchange. The Soviets are convinced that the famed British piano virtuoso is actually the Nazi leader's wife.

Nazi troops massacre 25,000 Jews in Brest-Litovsk, Poland.

October 16th, 1942...the British Army is arranging one of the great deceptions of history in the Egyptian desert. To fool German reconnaissance aircraft, massive dummy camps are being built, with dummy pipelines, dummy trucks, and dummy tanks. Old petrol cans are turned into water pipelines. Wooden fake tanks cast impressive shadows on the ground. Vehicles create fake tracks, radiomen send fake signals. Running one of these operations is the famous British stage magician, Jasper Maskelyne. He creates dummy railheads, fake water pipelines, and decoy fire sites. More professional deception is done by the signal team from the disbanded 8th Armoured Division, which poses as the 2nd New Zealand Division, while that outfit trains for battle.

During the day, the 8th Army lies in its shelters, doing as little as possible amid heat and sandstorms. By night, however, the troops move up supplies and equipment for the attack Lt. Gen. Bernard Montgomery has planned.

At the front, the war has become tedious - nightly patrols, occasional bombings or mortarings, "Gyppo tummy," and clouds of flies. To relieve the monotony, 2nd New Zealand Division sends men back on six-day leave to Cairo, where the men enjoy the vast Pole Nord bar, the lounge at Shepheard's, or cakes and ice cream at Groppi's.

Another British offensive is bogging down, this time the one in Burma. The British are driving down the Mayu Peninsula to seize Akyab Island, and its airfields. However, the British forces are struggling down a 10-mile metalled road that in turn dwindles to a 4-foot-wide earth track. Royal Engineers struggle to build roads in the Burmese jungle.

Henry Josselyn and John Keenan, the two Coastwatchers on Vella Lavella, reach Mundi Muni plantation, a mile down the beach from their landing point. They find it deserted. The two move into the empty plantation house and move their gear up from a beach to a hiding place. Half a mile in from the Mundi Mundi River they find a 300-foot hill, perfect for their teleradio. They build a camouflaged lean-to, covering it with sheets of galvanized iron from a plantation shed. Then they haul up the massive teleradio, a task that normally takes a dozen native carriers. They do it themselves.

The Nazis hang in public 50 Polish Communists, members of an underground group, as a warning to others who might rebel.

Early in the morning, the Japanese heavy cruisers Myoko and Maya and several destroyers under Rear Admiral Raizo Tanaka shell Guadalcanal's fighter strip with 926 8-inch shells and 253 5-inch shells from the destroyers.

At dawn the Americans find six wrecked F4Fs, 13 blasted SBDs, five TBFs charged, four P-39s and two B-17s, all wrecked. But the "Cactus Air Force" is still in business.

The last crewmen of VMF-224 and VMSB-231 are evacuated that morning, and MAG-14 replaces them. Also leaving are the last Navy aviators of VF-5. The old crews turn over their battered planes to new pilots.

The Japanese 11th Air Fleet sorties aircraft to find the last American carrier in the South Pacific, USS Hornet, and instead settles for the destroyer-seaplane tender USS McFarland, a four-piper converted to providing a floating home for PBY Catalinas.

The Japanese find her unloading 40,000 gallons of avgas and a dozen torpedoes, and taking aboard 160 Navy and Marine evacuees.

The Japanese swoop down at 5:50 p.m. and a bomb hits McFarland's depth charges astern, creating an impressive explosion. While the ship's crew and many evacuees try to handle the blaze, some evacuees panic and try to strip crewmen of lifejackets. The ship's crew quells the riot, and the McFarland staggers off to Tulagi with 27 dead and 28 wounded.

While the Japanese attack, 19 F4Fs from VMF-212 arrive at Henderson Field, along with seven SBDs, under Lt. Col. Harold F. Bauer. Bauer takes off, despite his shortage of fuel, and downs three Vals in a few seconds. He then lands and gives his aviators a rousing talk that boosts morale. For this feat, Bauer receives the Medal of Honor.

Vandegrift reports to his superiors that the Japanese have 15,000 men on the island to his 22,000. Half of the Americans are sick and wounded, yellowed by malaria and jungle fevers, unable to fight. He says the US Navy must secure the seas off the island and another division shipped in to take the offensive.

Vandegrift's pleas are finally heard by an America that is beginning to take note of the Marines' incredible stand. Gen. George C. Marshall orders 50 Army Air Force fighters sent to the South Pacific and the 25th Infantry (Tropic Lightning) Division readied for shipment from Hawaii to the South Pacific.

In Washington, the importance of Guadalcanal is made public when Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox takes questions from reporters on the battle. "Do you think we can hold Guadalcanal?" a reporter asks.

"I certainly hope so and expect so...I will not make any predictions, but every man will give a good account of himself. What I am trying to say is that there is a good stiff fight going on. Everybody hopes we can hold on."

That day, the New York Times editorializes: "...Guadalcanal. The name will not die out of the memories of this generation. It will endure in honor." The editorial goes unread by exhausted Marines on the island, but stateside readers see it as an obituary.

US Vice Admiral Robert Ghormley, the lackluster commander of the Southwest Pacific, orders two of his three avgas barges bound for Guadalcanal to return home, fearing Japanese attack. The destroyer Meredith and tug Vireo, the latter towing a barge, plod on. When Cdr. Harry Hubbard, leading this group, gets word that the Japanese are nearby, he orders Vireo scuttled. Distant staff officers at Pearl Harbor call this action "disgraceful."
But at 11:57 a.m., they run smack into 38 Japanese planes, who need only 10 minutes to dispose of Meredith. The Japanese also find the other retreating group, and damage Nicholas. The survivors of Meredith and Vireo endure the usual horrors of sinking, and yet another one of World War II's special horrors, being strafed in the water by Japanese aircraft. Most survivors lie around in shocked groups on rafts, suffering sun blisters and salt water in their burns. Lt. Cdr. Hubbard stoically endures burns and blindness before dying. Next come sharks, which attack the able-bodied clinging to the sides of rafts. Boatswain's Mate Wesley S. Singletary sets a personal example by going over the sides and pushing sharks away with his feet. Japanese reconnaissance planes spot the battleship USS Washington, and the Japanese cancel plans to send three seaplane tenders to Guadalcanal. But three light cruisers and 15 destroyers unload 2,159 soldiers, six field and 12 anti-tank guns, and ammunition and supplies.

October 17th, 1942...USS Washington puts to sea as flagship of Task Force 64 with cruisers San Francisco, Chester, Helena, and Atlanta.

In London, Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower gets word that the Vichy French Admiral Jean Darlan, boss of the French Navy, may be willing to bring the French fleet and French North Africa over to the allies, if he is put in command of the French forces. Darlan has a shady record as a collaborator. The American diplomat, Robert Murphy, urges backing Darlan. But General Charles Mast, a senior French officer in Algiers, urges that the Americans deal with another top French general, Henri Giraud. Mast wants a secret rendezvous of American officers from Ike's staff west of Algiers to parley and provide information. This will set off a series of schoolboy adventures for a US two-star general. Left out of this is the unpopular Charles De Gaulle, who is hated by the Vichy French, disliked by the British, and distrusted by the Americans.

The Allied convoys for the invasion of North Africa assemble in Scotland and Hampton Roads, Virginia. This is the only invasion of the war that will be loaded directly from the United States.

The RAF attacks the Schneider factory at Le Creusot, 300 miles inside France. This factory is considered the French equivalent to the mighty Krupps plant in Essen, and is pouring out heavy guns and railway engines. It is also attaching German ordnance to captured French tanks. 94 Lancasters are sent in this rare day attack, under Wing Command L.C. Slee of 49 Squadron. The bombers fly across France without fighter escort at treetop height. No German fighters attack - the only menace are from birds: four aircraft are damaged and two injured from bird strikes.

The strike force hits the target on time and finds no flak. 140 tons of bombs are delivered. The only casualty is a single Lancaster that bombs the nearby transformer power station from such a low level, it crashes into a building. Bomber Command claims victory. The photographs show that much of the bombing fell short and whacked the workers' housing areas, and factory damage is not extensive.

The Japanese carriers Junyo and Hiyo move in with 18 Zeros and 18 Kates on Guadalcanal, but American cryptanalysts read the orders to the carriers, and the Japanese are intercepted by eight F4Fs. The Americans lose one Wildcat, but the Japanese lose seven Kates.

Later that morning, two US destroyers, Aaron Ward and Lardner, shell the Japanese with 1,925 5-inch shells. The Japanese supply efforts are failing.

USS Grampus, one of the American submarines in the area, spots the Japanese light cruiser Yura, and fires a spread of torpedoes at her. One dents the cruiser's portside plates and fails to explode. Still aboard Grampus are Nick Waddell and Carden Seton, awaiting their chance to set up their Coastwatching station. Waddell is teaching the crew backgammon - a lucrative business - and the Japanese 16 depth charges throw him off his game.

The Americans have five aging S-boats and 12 fleet submarines against the Tokyo Express, but the Grampus' success impresses Adm. Chester Nimitz, who sends 12 more submarines to the South Pacific, along with the sub tender USS Holland.

The 3rd Australian Militia Battalion fights its way up the Kokoda Trail into a Japanese position and captures Japanese equipment. An Australian officer describes an action: "When Richardson was shot, Downes, a country lad, with his pipe in his mouth, tried to spot the sniper. I went down to bandage Richardson (who was breathing through a hole in his chest). A bullet went between my pack and my back and hit my Dixie. Downes saw the muzzle blast, moved out into the open to see better, and shot the sniper. Then he calmly went back behind a tree, took his pipe from his mouth, turned round to the boys and said, 'Well, I got the bastard!' We had one stretcher bearer, Dwight, and he used to go out whenever anyone was hit and would go where others wouldn't go. He got one man out of a forward pit, going under fire for some yards, lifting him, putting him on his back, and then running 150 yards under fire."

Later that day, the Australians send in the 16th Brigade of the 6th Division. This outfit is quite literally Australia's first team - the 16th's battalions were the very first Australians to enter battle, at Bardia, in December, 1940. They have fought Italians, Germans, and Vichy French. Now they will face the Japanese.

As the brigade moves into battle, the unit's diary notes, "Along the route were skeletons picked clean by ants and other insects, and in the dark recesses of the forest came to our nostrils the stench of the dead, hastily buried, or perhaps not buried at all."

16th Brigade attacks at Eora Creek, the valley below the climb up to the Kokoda Plateau. The Japanese rely on snipers who open fire at close range, while the Australians rely on their powerful machine guns. 16th Brigade's cohesion enables it to advance under heavy fire and thick bush. That evening, the dead from both sides lie scattered about, amid pouring rain.