Donald Trump has a thing. He has lots of things, being a creature made of personality defects, narcissism and high-tensile racism, and who looks like a semi-sentient block of cheese that has somehow gained a rudimentary understanding of fascism, but in this case I’m talking about his thing is to attack the US military of today by valourising two of its past leaders: Douglas MacArthur and George Patton.
"Remember the old days of General MacArthur and General Patton, and these great generals," Trump told CPAC in 2015. "General MacArthur is spinning in his grave when he sees what we do."
He’s also used them to attack his opponents: “[Hillary Clinton] tells you how to fight ISIS on her website… I don't think Gen. Douglas MacArthur would like that very much."
These are two examples among many of something as close to admiration a man like Trump can ever display and it’s easy to see why he picks these men to elevate. Trump is a man given over to the projection of an image, a man who, like many authoritarians, impersonates the man he says he is, not unlike those fraudsters you see in the news from time to time. Tricksters convicted of conning millions out of dumb rich people while pretending to be German nobility. Impression and publicity are the thing, so naturally, not being a well-read man, or one prone to anything but superficiality, Trump would gravitate to the most self-aggrandising, most flawed of America’s military leaders.
Some of Patton’s tough talking character was bluster. Delivered in a characteristically high-pitched voice, his bloodthirsty quotes were often intended to inspire in his men confidence in his leadership and in themselves. But sometimes it was not. In Sicily, he was fired when he slapped men suffering from PTSD, and then again soon after the end of the war in Europe, because he wanted to go to war with the USSR and his absence of political nous meant his superiors had little use for him in peacetime. He never rose to the highest rank. Eisenhower, the great coalition builder and politician, favoured Omar Bradley.
Like many of their ilk, image was key to both – Patton’s cavalry boots and trousers were topped with a ridiculous shiny, polished helmet; MacArthur habitually wore aviator glasses, pipe and leather jacket.
A man of gargantuan ego, MacArthur was obsessed with liberating the Philippines from the Japanese after being defeated there in the early part of the war. He threatened to run against Roosevelt for President in order to get his way and ensure he was given command of vast forces for the task, his famous 1942 declaration of “…I shall return” was followed up with “…I have returned” after landings on Leyte in October 1944 (Never a man who used ‘we’ where ‘I’ could fit, he earned the enmity of men under his command in the first Philippine campaign who nicknamed him Dugout Doug, noting in disgust his insistence in lauding himself in dispatches to the USA and the exclusion of their own sacrifices).
It’s not hard to see why Trump, a man who has a child’s understanding of strength and a perpetual, diseased need to take credit would be attracted to a man who took backhanders from the Philippine government and had a friendly press baron amplifying his voice at home.
(There’s also the less well-known pre-war part of MacArthur’s biography where he, a man in his fifties, took a sixteen-year-old Filipina as his mistress, which Trump, a rapist, would surely see as unproblematic if he ever learned of it).
To be clear, both Patton and MacArthur were highly competent, knowledgeable and precise, and responsible for extraordinary victories in Europe and Pacific, but both were massively flawed characters, and neither were in the top tier of American commanders. It’s emblematic of Trump’s character that he would gravitate to the egotistic, meddling MacArthur ahead of Chester Nimitz, architect of the Navy’s drive through the Central Pacific, which got underway in earnest on the 20th of November 1943 with landings on Betio and Makin Atolls, Tarawa.
The land campaigns of the Pacific all have their own unique, awful characteristics. There are the battles over the Kokoda Trail, fought in the mountain forests of New Guinea. The jungles and rain of the Solomons campaign. The heat of Peleliu, where bad Marine leadership threw men uselessly against Japanese fortifications dug into the rock caves in the centre of the island. The massive numbers of civilian dead of Saipan and Okinawa, often victims of murder-suicides – Japanese, taught to fear the American and to never be taken captive killed themselves and/or their families in terrible numbers. (There is colour film of people throwing themselves to their deaths from the cliffs of northern Saipan.) And the sulphuric rock of the volcanic Iwo Jima, the only battle where US casualties outnumbered Japanese.
On Tarawa, a stereotypical Pacific Island of sand and palm trees, there was a beautiful tropical lagoon.
Betio Atoll, lying 2,400 miles southwest of Hawai’i is a tiny island that today is part of Kiribati, but it was not quite small enough for war to pass it by, for it was the right shape and just big enough for the Japanese to build an airfield on it. And so, to protect their supply lines from interdiction during the campaign westward, the Americans decided it must be seized and assembled a fleet of 191 ships to transport and support a force of 35,000 troops to attack it.
GALVANIC, as the operation was designated, was unknown territory. Amphibious landings had been done at Guadalcanal and throughout the Solomons, for Operation TORCH in North Africa, and recently HUSKY, BAYTOWN and AVALANCHE in Sicily and Italy. But none of these had been against heavily fortified defences of the type the Japanese, well aware of their vulnerability, had built. Tarawa had a garrison of about 5,000 men, half of whom were Rikusentai – the Special Naval Landing Forces that were the Imperial Japanese Navy’s equivalent of Marines. The rest were construction crews and engineers, and they made a complex of bunkers, pillboxes and trenches, reinforced with concrete, timber and coral that proved enormously difficult to reduce.
While the Americans had studied and planned for the kind of opposed landings they would now attempt, there was no proof of concept and, worse, they were short of vital resources.
A year previously, the US Navy had contested control of the Pacific with two operational aircraft carriers. Now, in the autumn of 1943, its industry had built a fleet of Essex- and Independence-class carriers that came to dominate the rest of the war. One day, during the two-week voyage from New Zealand to Tarawa, a crewman on the USS Saratoga counted 13 different carriers among the fleet. But they were sorely lacking in landing craft.
The landings in Italy had already suffered from this shortage – both BAYTOWN and AVALANCHE had been allocated far fewer landing craft than they needed and now GALVANIC would. They were desperately short of the LVTs – amphibious tractors – which would carry the first wave of Marines onto the invasion beaches. They had cannibalised older vehicles that had been used on Guadalcanal and welded makeshift armour to others they acquired. But the following waves rode in Higgins boats – the classic, familiar-looking assault craft from movies like Saving Private Ryan. These craft would never reach shore.
The invasion coincided with Tarawa’s neap tide and while many of the people the Navy consulted about the depth of water in the lagoon opposite the invasion beaches were confident about the depth of water they would find, there was no consensus. One man, a New Zealander named Major F L G Holland warned that there would be less than 3 feet of water over the coral reef that bordered the lagoon. He was right. The tracked amtracs of the first wave could grind their way over the reef and into the lagoon, but the Higgins boats following hit it and the invasion stalled.
Men were disgorged into the water at the reef and had to wade through chest and neck-deep water to get to shore. Some transferred to amtracs that took them halfway before being told that it was too dangerous for the amtrac to go further, that the diminshing number of amtracs were too valuable to risk and that they would have to trek through the maelstrom of fire that the lagoon had become. Men struggled past the dismembered and mutilated bodies of their comrades, the burning disabled wrecks of craft that had made it into the lagoon, through water turned crimson with blood, alongside the floating corpses of thousands of tropical fish killed by the concussion of hundreds of explosions to reach a beach where the tempest of the lagoon was replaced by a world of sand, blood and slaughter.
On land, the marines found themselves against a sea wall made of timber and beneath this were able to regroup. Communications were difficult. The few senior officers on the scene found that many radios were lost, or so waterlogged as to be ineffective. The battle had little direction, devolving into small groups of marines led by lieutenants, NCOs and privates slowing creeping inland, clearing bunkers as they went. Sometimes they were forced back, sometimes they held on to the territory they took. Always they took grievous losses.
Things were no better on the Japanese side, for early on the first day, the garrison commander, Rear Admiral Shibasaki Keiji was killed.
Artillery fire is a terrible thing to be under, naval gunfire orders of magnitude worse. The standard 105mm M2 howitzer used by the US army fired a 40lb shell. The battleships USS Maryland and Colorado which bombarded Betio fired 16-inch shells that weighed 2,100lbs. A broadside from either sent more than seven and a half tons of high explosive at a target up to 14 miles away. Combined with fire from cruisers and destroyers the pre-invasion bombardment killed perhaps 40% of the island’s defenders, wrecked much of its defences, and - because wires could not be buried deeply enough in the sand of Betio - destroyed its telephone network. Shibasaki, frustrated at his inability to communicate with his men decided to move his command post and, out in the open, was killed along with his entire staff when a 5-inch shell from an American destroyer landed in the middle of them. Whatever was left of his body was never recovered.
In this, the Americans were lucky. Their position on the first day was precarious and Shibasaki’s death meant the Japanese defence became uncoordinated and prevented them from mounting a counterattack on the first night. They did sneak men onto the wreck of a freighter in the lagoon, from where they continued to rake it with fire. Strikes by aircraft on the freighter were inaccurate and often hit US troops. Friendly fire from both air and sea would be a problem throughout the battle for American forces.
The Marines, with few of the flamethrowers and bazookas they would have in later battles, reduced the island pillbox by pillbox, often having to silence them multiple times as Rikusentai reoccupied firing positions thought eliminated by means of hidden trenches. The long wooden pier leading out into the lagoon would be the source of constant fire throughout the battle.
It took 76 hours to take Tarawa. Slightly over three days of small unit fighting, men rushing firing positions and pouring grenades and bullets through openings. Frontal attacks against pillboxes, or flanking attacks that exposed men to fire from another position in overlapping network of defence. Tanks, immobilised by mine or Japanese fire would provide support, but mostly this was a battle fought by the infantry at short range with rifle, sub-machine gun and grenade. At the end of it, 1,009 Marines of the 2nd Division had been killed and another 2,101 wounded - roughly 25% of the men landed on the island.
687 more men were killed when the relatively small escort carrier USS Liscome Bay was torpedoed by a Japanese submarine off Makin. The torpedo detonated her magazine, and the resulting explosion blew her in half. The fireball rose a thousand feet in the air and debris fell on ships miles away.
Of the Japanese garrison of nearly 5,000, 146 survived, 129 of whom were Korean construction labourers. The rest fought to the death, or were simply denied the opportunity to surrender, the Americans having learned on Guadalcanal that Japanese would often feign surrender in order to lull their enemies and kill them with bayonet or grenade.
Life Magazine published photos of American dead floating in the surf of Tarawa, washed up on the beaches of Betio. The journalist Robert Sherrod, who had been on a Higgins boat and waded through the lagoon on the first morning wrote detailed dispatches for Time. The American public were shocked by the bloodbath on the atolls of Tarawa. One New York paper declared that the US should have used poison gas. Nimitz received letters from bereaved families. “You killed my son on Tarawa,” a mother wrote. Nimitz read each of them and answered them personally, considering it his responsibility. The burden of command.
The Japanese were told the defenders had been overwhelmed, but at such a cost to the Americans that it was to all intents a victory for the Japanese Empire, a lie habitually told after defeats. Midway had been a great victory in their press.
Lessons were learned. Coordination between US land, sea and air forces improved. Invasion troops carried less unessential equipment and more ammunition and explosives. They learned to rely on supply from the sea. Future invasions had more amtracs available, of improved design, with more armour and more firepower. Napalm was introduced and used in staggering amounts, dropped from plane and shot from tanks to incinerate bunker and cave and kill the defenders within.
Japanese strategy leaned on the assumption that the Americans would not have the stomach for the fight. That the American public would not support the casualties needed to defeat them. They were wrong. Before long, papers in the US were warning of the need for America to steel itself, for Tarawa was a foreshadowing of future battles, on larger islands closer to the Japanese homeland. That the tiny, blood-soaked atolls of Tarawa heralded unprecedented carnage and butchery.
In this, they were right.
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not going to give the blog any attention or time of day but this is your reminder that the leverage crew would never be zionists or support israel whatsoever
I wasn't going to engage with it because I value my mental health but yeah. absolutely fucking NOT
y'all really think that this group of people that actively go out of their way to go against the rich and powerful, who make it their goal to help people that are oppressed, devalued by society and taken advantage by those more powerful would at all EVER align themselves with israel? bffrrn
I'm going to go off for a few paragraphs about why this is such a horrendously ridiculous and delusional idea, but I'm not going to clog up your dash so it's going under the cut. I want to respect people who already participate in activism and need fandom space for lighter things
tw for discussion of the atrocities and war crimes happening in palestine
over 25 THOUSAND innocent people have died as a result of israeli terror the last few months alone. over 10 thousand children. entire family lines have been erased from the world forever- grandparents, parents, children, grandchildren all martyred, often together as they are sheltering from bombs and bullets until they are murdered by soldiers that laugh as they shoot and detonate bombs.
you really think that eliot 'I adopt every child I see' spencer would support a regime that let a child stay trapped in a car where her family members were martyred, not let paramedics in for days and then when they finally let the paramedics approach they kill both her AND the EMS? you think he would stand with the government that arrests children as young as 6 years old for *checks hand* being terrorists (because what fucking 6 year old is a terrorist let alone any kind of national threat. they're fucking SIX). that snipes children for throwing rocks at tanks and their apartheid walls
he and all of them would weep at the picture released the other day of the little girl handing from rubble with her legs blown off.
all of them would be horrified of the bombardment that has murdered tens of thousands of innocent civilians, women, children, men, elderly alike with no fucking care. that shoots people with their hands up waving white flags. that bulldozes graveyards and digs up bodies and probably steals organs from they dying and deceased. that bombs hospitals, governmental and archival buildings, mosques, churches, holy sites, schools and universities. whose soldiers have a trend where they go through women's underwear drawers and make lewd comments about their lingerie and how kinky they must be. who make tiktoks of them playing in decimated playgrounds and signing their children's names on bombs. who force parents to collect pieces of their children in plastic bags because they have been blown apart by relentless bombing. who shoot a grandmother holding a child's hand. who murdered a woman that dared say that she was older than the 'state' of israel.
the fact that you're posting this as israel relentlessly bombs rafa, the place they were told would be the only safe place to be, where 1.6 million people are living in tents living off animal feed because no sufficient humanitarian aid (if any) has been let through
these people that advocate for comeuppance and exposing wrongs would not support a regime that actively targets and murders journalists and their entire families.
you really think any of them would actively support a genocidal sociopathic government? fucking delusional
to a certain extent, I know that people want to keep fandom and advocacy spaces separate and I acknowledge and relate to that- when we are logged on every moment of the day we sometimes need to take breaks and engage with something else for our mental health. I need that too. and there is a very thin line when you try to apply fandom to current events because in all honesty, making headcanons about how your faves would react to X horrendous event can come off as extremely tone-deaf. I get you love your blorbos (I do too!), but actual people are suffering and it can come off as disingenuous to a lot of folks when you try to talk about your characters instead of the very real harm that is going on. HOWEVER, the other account posted in the leverage tag that the crew would be zionists and started that discourse and since it was already out there in our space I wanted to make sure that people know that this blog does not support that whatsoever.
and before this gets misconstrued: antizionism is not antisemitism. I have a lot of love for my jewish friends and followers, but saying that we can't be critical of war crimes and incessant aggression because it is a jewish state is fucking ridiculous. we should be able to hold any and all governments accountable when they do bad things (this absolutely also means I think we should hold the US accountable for enabling them and I live here. every country that is complicit needs to face consequences). saying that israel is exempt from criticism because jewish people deserve a right to a homeland isn't a great take. I completely understand fear of antisemitism and discrimination, but at some point we have to think critically and acknowledge that people are dying by the thousands and standing up for that and calling out atrocities takes precedence. jewish voices for peace has some really good content about this topic
anyways there's a random blog out there posting about how your faves are zionists splattering their rancid sponge and I want to make sure my stance on this subject is very clear: fuck israel, free palestine, and no one is free until everyone is free
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CW for war.
How Do You Hunt a U-Boat, or: How a Scottish Lesbian Became a Leading Expert on Anti-Submarine Warfare.
The Allies - and here, I'm mostly talking about the Royal Navy and the Royal Canadian Navy. More Jack Hawkins in The Cruel Sea than Tom Hanks in Greyhound. Because it was the British and Canadians that did the bulk of fighting in the Atlantic - had a lot of problems when it came to sinking U-Boats, even when they roughly knew where one was. For one, the primitive and less sophisticated forms of sonar (asdic, in the parlance of the day) the ships of the time were equipped with had blind spots. The sonar pointed forward and the depth charges were pushed off the back of a ship. A clever U-boat commander, and many of them were, would move away and make the destroyer or corvette miss.
One way they solved this was by developing a system called hedgehog. A spigot mortar, firing a pattern of bombs ahead of the attacking ship while the U-Boat was still in sonar contact. The bombs exploded on contact with a submarine, cracking it open and allowing immense water pressure to crush the hull and kill the crew. (Just over 40,000 Germans went to sea in U-Boats in the Second World War. About 75% were killed. It was, by far, the most dangerous service to be a part of in the Second World War.)
That's just one of the issues - and there were many - the men at sea had when it came to hunting U-Boats, in this case a technical one. Solved with engineering in a very typically British way (a part of British wartime R&D decided spigot mortars were the solution to every explodable problem), but there were others that could not be fixed by a man in a white coat.
Questions about U-boat tactics. Questions about how to predict where the Germans would be. Human questions that required human answers to be found.
Militaries love to play games as much as they love bombing around fields in tanks. You can predict a lot from a game, if the game is played honestly. Very famously, the Japanese wargames before Midway were not played honestly. And, well...
Enter Western Approaches Tactical Unit. Based in Liverpool, Western Approaches was where the Battle of the Atlantic was co-ordinated. And on the top floor, Captain Gilbert Roberts played games to try to divine German tactics. And he did so with a staff made up of young women in the Women's Royal Naval Service. Wrens. One who joined in 1942 was a 19-year-old called Janet Okell, another a chartered accountant in her twenties by the name of Jean Laidlaw.
Roberts and the Wrens played games. Working collaboratively, they refought battles, plotting out the courses and fates of convoys and ships to work out the tactics used by U-Boats, and when they had, they played more to develop countermeasures, trying and rejecting existing tactics and replacing them with ones of their own design. Ones that worked. Then they taught those new tactics to the men who commanded the ships and escort groups that sailed the Atlantic, running courses that lasted 6 days, Monday to Saturday, for over 3 years through the worst, most critical phases of the Battle of the Atlantic. Roberts the ringmaster as the Wrens made it work for the thousands of men who went through the course. Men with years of seagoing experience from all the Allied navies. Canadians, Americans, Australians, British, South Africans, Poles, French. Up to 50 at a time. All receiving instruction and training from Wrens, playing games against them on the floor of WATU, courses plotted in chalk, with cotton wool representing burning ships, deferring to the tactical knowledge of women in their teens and early twenties who never commanded at sea. One of those officers, Nicholas Monsarrat, later wrote the novel of The Cruel Sea.
On one occasion, Okell and Laidlaw played against Max Horton, the admiral commanding Western Approaches, himself a distinguished submarine commander from the Great War.
Playing from behind a screen as escort commanders, with Horton the U-Boat, they sank him 5 times in a row. As they stood there sheepishly, having humiliated their commander, Horton accused them of cheating. They had not. They had not needed to.
The existence of the unit was well known. A picture of Roberts hung in U-Boat HQ with the words "this is your enemy" on it. But WATU's success was as much down to the Wrens and their - sometimes instinctive, sometimes learned, most often both - tactical expertise.
The courses ran until July 1945, long after the U-Boat threat had been crushed. Many of the Wrens who served in the unit transferred out after a short or even a long time, but Okell and Laidlaw remained part of WATU until the end.
We don't know much about Jean Laidlaw. The memoir she left was unthinkingly thrown away by her nephew after her death. Few of the Wrens left any record of their time at WATU. She went back to work as a chartered accountant after the war and lived with her partner, Beryl, then alone, quietly, until she passed in 2008. I hope she continued to play games and I really hope she continued schooling men on how to win.
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