Forrest F. Gesswein, Jr., 32°
9514 Powderhorn Lane, Baltimore, Maryland 21234-1030

Landing craft and barges bring fresh supplies to a Guadalcanal beach, probably in December 1942 or January 1943. The LCP in the center, just beyond the barge full of piled boxes, is from USS American Legion (AP-35). In the background, one of the LCVs is from USS Hunter Liggett (AP-27), mentioned in the article. Photo: Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives

My first awareness of the famous island was early in the morning of August 7, 1942. We could see the wide expanse of sand designated as Red Beach, and, if reveille had not already roused us, the bombardment sure did. I was on the deck of the USS Hunter Liggett waiting our turn to go over the side and hit the beach at Guadalcanal, a place we had never heard of until the day before.

Before I go on, I want to explain that this story was not researched. It is my recollection of my involvement with Guadalcanal sand in America's first land offensive in the Pacific during World War II. All your comments to the above address are welcome.

Naturally the infantry had gone over the side earlier, and after our guns were hoisted into the Higgins boats, we climbed down the cargo nets into the boats for our trip to the beach that I estimate was 100 yards wide. It is my recollection that the landing was not vigorously defended because the Japanese presence on the island consisted mostly of slave labor and a few troops to build an airfield, which we intended to take over. I understand they were taken by surprise and grabbed what they could before retreating into the jungle to harass us and wait for reinforcements.

When we reached the beach, the plan was for amphibious tractors to pull our 105mm guns across the sand to the tree line. Evidently, these tractors had never been tested in sand, at least not deep Guadalcanal sand. They could navigate by themselves, but the sand clogged their tracks when pulling a load. Finally, our four-wheel drive trucks, which were no better for pulling the guns in the sand, were utilized. We backed the truck up the beach and hooked its wench cable to the gun. When the cable was taut, the truck was put in reverse gear, and the wheels dug deep holes in the sand. This maneuver provided an anchor for the truck. Then the wench was engaged, the gun was pulled up to the truck. Then the wench was disengaged, the truck was backed up the beach again. After all day by this method, our guns were finally on firm ground. It was the end of an 18-hour day, we were dead tired, and a tropical storm began. We covered ourselves as best we could with our ponchos and shelter-halves and had no trouble falling asleep.

Marines raise the flag on Guadalcanal after the first landings, circa August 7, 1942. Photo: U.S. Naval Historical Center Photograph

A couple days later, I was back on the beach in charge of one of the many working parties sent to unload the Higgins boats. The Japanese Navy was headed our way. The transports had to be unloaded in order for them to retreat from the impending naval battle. We worked around the clock and at night worked in water up to our neck because the tide had risen and the beach was stacked solid with the gear we had unloaded. Everything we had unloaded was under water. The next day, we used long timbers side by side to roll bombs up the beach to get them out of the water. My group was never relieved, and we were the last to leave the beach.

Finally, our transports got under way, and that night our Navy engaged the Japanese in the first of the naval battles that earned the waters off Guadalcanal the title of "Iron Bottom Bay." It was dark, and we could not see the action, but with the roar of the guns, the flashes of gunfire, and shells exploding, we had ringside seats to what appeared to be the most gigantic electrical storm you can imagine.

My next encounter with Guadalcanal's sand was during a lull in the action. I had gone to the beach that was still littered with gear and picked up a brand-new pair of shoes just my size. All of a sudden, gunfire began, and a round landed close enough to make me think I was the target. A double apron of barbed wire had been laid along the beach to deter any Japanese attack, and when I ran and jumped to clear the apron, I cut my knee on one of the barbs. I went to the corpsman who painted my knee with disinfectant.

Sixty years later on July 30, 2002, at Arlington National Cemetery, one of my war buddies and I attended the internment of George Toth who was awarded the Silver Star for conspicuous gallantry. Because of the numerous requests and lack of space, there is over a month's wait for a burial date. Therefore, most internments are cremations, and there are rows of walls containing crypts. We delivered some Guadalcanal sand, which was supplied by Col. Stanley N. McLeod, to be sprinkled on George's remains. The Colonel had gathered the sand from the beach on a return visit to the island in June 1994.

Forrest F. Gesswein, Jr. was initiated in Mt. Mariah Lodge No. 116, Towson, Maryland, in May 1942 and received the rest of his Blue Lodge Degrees in 1943 while convalescing in the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda. Bro. Gesswein is a member of Boumi Shrine Temple, Baltimore, Maryland, and the Scottish Rite Bodies of Baltimore.