There is a cemetery on the island of Guam where 24 Marine war dogs are buried.
They were Doberman Pinschers and German Shepherds who fought alongside the Marines in the Pacific.
This is the story of the Marine Devil Dogs..🧵1/5
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By early 1942 the United States Marine Corps had a problem in the Pacific.
The Japanese were dug into the dense jungles of every island the Marines tried to take. They were masters of concealment. They moved silently through the undergrowth. They set ambushes at night. They infiltrated American positions while the Marines slept. Marine patrols were being cut to pieces by an enemy they could not see, hear, or smell.
The Marines needed an answer. They found one in a civilian organization called Dogs for Defense.
In late 1942 the Marine Corps established its first War Dog Platoon at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina. American families donated their family pets. Breeders donated trained working dogs. The most common donations were Doberman Pinschers and German Shepherds.
The Marines wanted dogs that were 25 inches tall at the shoulder and weighed about 60 pounds. Big enough to be intimidating. Small enough that a Marine could carry one out of combat if it was wounded.
The training course ran 14 weeks. The dogs learned to obey hand signals so handlers could direct them silently in combat. They learned to alert without barking when they detected the enemy. They learned to crawl, swim, climb cargo nets, ride in landing craft, and ignore the sound of gunfire and explosions. They learned to track a man by scent through dense jungle.
They were assigned roles. Scout dogs walked at the head of patrols and alerted to enemy positions ahead. Messenger dogs ran communications between units across battlefields where radios had failed. Sentry dogs guarded camps at night.
Over 1,000 dogs completed the Marine training program during the war. The Marines called them Devil Dogs, borrowing the famous Marine Corps nickname from the First World War.
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November 1 1943. Bougainville. Solomon Islands.
The first Marine War Dog Platoon went into combat. 24 dogs and 55 handlers attached to the 2nd Marine Raider Regiment. 21 Dobermans and 3 German Shepherds. They were lowered from the deck of the attack transport USS George Clymer in cargo nets and improvised harnesses. They climbed into Higgins boats with their handlers and went ashore under heavy Japanese fire.
Two dogs entered the history books that morning.
Andy was a Doberman scout dog handled by PFCs Robert Lansley and John Mahoney. He walked at the head of the Raider patrols. On day two of the invasion he alerted to a Japanese machine gun nest hidden in the jungle 100 yards ahead. The Marines took cover. The machine gun opened up. Not one of them was hit.
Caesar was a large German Shepherd messenger dog handled by PFC Rufus Mayo. On the first night ashore Caesar was sleeping in a foxhole beside Mayo when he suddenly leaped out and attacked a Japanese soldier creeping up on the position in the dark. The Japanese soldier shot Caesar at point blank range and ran. Caesar survived. Mayo had survived too because the dog had not waited to be told.
On day three Caesar carried a message from Company M to the regimental command post when American telephone lines had been cut by Japanese mortars. He was the only means of communication between the two units. He was wounded again. Marines carried him back to safety on a stretcher.
Of the 24 dogs and 55 handlers who went ashore at Bougainville, only 2 dogs and 2 handlers did not come home.
Handlers later claimed no Marine patrol guarded by war dogs was successfully surprised during the Bougainville campaign.
After Bougainville every Marine division in the Pacific was assigned its own War Dog Platoon.
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July 21 1944. The Marines landed on Guam.
The 2nd and 3rd War Dog Platoons came ashore with the Marine infantry. They would run more than 450 combat patrols on the island over the next three weeks. They cleared caves. They detected land mines. They found booby traps. They guarded sleeping Marines at night.
A Doberman named Kurt walked at the head of a Marine patrol through the jungle north of the landing beaches on July 22 1944. Kurt was handled by PFC Allen Jacobson. The dog suddenly stopped and alerted. There was a Japanese force directly ahead. The patrol took cover.
The patrol was 250 Marines strong. The Japanese force was estimated at several thousand soldiers preparing an ambush. Kurt had detected them before they had detected the Marines.
In the firefight that followed Kurt was hit by shrapnel from a Japanese mortar shell. His spine was severely damaged. The dogs' veterinarian Captain William Putney later wrote about treating him:
"I hastily hooked up an IV bottle and inserted the end of the tube into the vein of Kurt's right foreleg. I put a half-grain of morphine into the tube. He let out a big sigh, closed his eyes, and went to sleep."
Kurt did not wake up. He was the first American war dog killed in action on Guam.
PFC Jacobson refused medical treatment for his own wounds until Kurt had been carried off the battlefield. When the dog was finally evacuated Jacobson buried him in a shallow grave with a wooden cross.
Over the next three weeks 24 more Devil Dogs were killed in action on Guam. Yonnie. Koko. Bunkie. Skipper. Poncho. Tubby. Hobo. Nig. Prince. Fritz. Emmy. Missy. Cappy. Duke. Max. Blitz. Arno. Silver. Brockie. Bursch. Pepper. Ludwig. Rickey. Tam was buried at sea off Asan Point.
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The Devil Dogs fought on. They served at Iwo Jima. They served at Peleliu. They served at Okinawa. They served on every Pacific island the Marines took back from the Japanese in the final two years of the war.
Caesar the German Shepherd who had saved Rufus Mayo's life on Bougainville was killed in action on northern Okinawa on April 17 1945. His handler Bob Forsyth said of him afterward:
"Andy and Caesar were good Marines."
The men who handled the Devil Dogs never forgot them. After the war Captain William Putney, the Marine veterinarian who had cared for Kurt on Guam, spent the rest of his life pushing for proper recognition of the war dogs. In 2001 he published a memoir called Always Faithful, the first detailed account of the Marine War Dog Platoons in the Pacific.
In June 1994 a bronze statue of Kurt the Doberman was unveiled at the Pentagon. It was sculpted by an artist named Susan Bahary. The statue was then shipped to Guam and installed at a new cemetery on the Naval Base. The remains of the 24 Devil Dogs who had been killed liberating Guam were moved to the new ground beneath the statue. The cemetery was dedicated on July 21 1994, exactly 50 years after the invasion.
The bronze Kurt stands watch over his fallen brothers to this day. The inscription on the base honors the 25 Marine war dogs who gave their lives liberating Guam in 1944. It records that they served as sentries, messengers, and scouts. That they explored caves, detected mines and booby traps.
It ends with two words.
Semper Fidelis.
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One of the finest fighters of the war was built in three different factories. A famous aircraft company, a tyre company, and a firm so badly run that the US Navy sent officers in to physically seize the building.
The Navy eventually decided that aircraft from that third factory would never serve with American front-line combat squadrons.
This is the story of how America built the Corsair..🧵1/5
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The F4U Corsair was designed by Rex Beisel at Chance Vought, in Stratford, Connecticut, and the first thing anybody notices about it is the wing.
It bends. The inner section angles sharply down and then back up again, which looks like a styling choice and is not. Vought had built the aircraft around the biggest, most powerful engine they could get, which needed an enormous propeller, which needed ground clearance. Bending the wing downwards meant they could keep the landing gear short and strong instead of long and fragile.
It worked. The prototype first flew in May 1940, and that October it became the first single-engined American fighter to fly faster than 400 miles an hour.
The Navy wanted it immediately, and in very large numbers. That turned out to be the hard part.
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Vought's own production started slowly. Changes kept being made to the design, and the first two production Corsairs were not accepted by the Navy until July 1942, with nine more in August.
At that rate the war would be over before the aircraft arrived in strength. So the Navy went looking for other companies to build it under licence.
One of them was the Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company, in Akron, Ohio.
It is easy to be sceptical about handing a carrier fighter to a tyre manufacturer. Goodyear finished its first Corsair in February 1943, and by 1944 the company was completing two hundred aircraft a month. By the time the line shut down in September 1945 it had built 4,107 of them. Goodyear also became the company the Navy used for experiments, because it was easier to interrupt their production than Vought's, and they built a version with a 3,000 horsepower engine that was among the most powerful piston fighters ever flown.
The tyre company had no trouble at all. The third factory was a different matter entirely.
He landed a slow, vulnerable flying boat inside an enemy harbour four separate times, under fire from one of the most heavily defended Japanese bases in the South Pacific.
He was not there to fight. He was there to pick up men who had been shot down.
He brought fifteen of them home.
This is the story of Nathan Gordon..🧵1/5
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Nathan Green Gordon was a country lawyer from Arkansas. He had a practice, a quiet life, and no particular reason to end up in the Pacific. When the war came he took a Navy commission in 1941 and learned to fly the PBY Catalina.
The Catalina was not a glamorous aircraft. It was a big, slow, twin-engined flying boat, and in a sky full of fast fighters it was one of the most vulnerable things in the air. But it could do one thing nothing else could. It could land on open water.
That made it the aircraft they sent to pick up the men who had been shot down.
Gordon joined Patrol Squadron 34, the Black Cats, flying from an advanced seaplane base in New Guinea. He was 27, a lieutenant junior grade, and he named his Catalina the Arkansas Traveler.
On the morning of 15 February 1944, he was flying a rescue patrol off the Vitu Islands, waiting.
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That morning the Fifth Air Force hit Kavieng Harbour, on the island of New Ireland.
Waves of A-20 Havocs went in low against the shipping in the harbour while B-25 Mitchells bombed the installations along the waterfront. The Japanese anti-aircraft fire was accurate and heavy, and it shot eight of the low-flying American aircraft down.
Kavieng was one of the worst places in the Pacific to be shot down. It was a major Japanese base protected by heavy anti-aircraft batteries, and its harbour lay within close range of enemy shore guns.
Gordon got the call that an A-20 was down. He flew his flying boat into the harbour.
The sea state was appalling, with waves reported breaking as high as eighteen feet. He put the Catalina down anyway and searched. He found nobody. The landing had punished the aircraft so badly that it burst seams and began taking on water.
He took off again. Then reports came in that survivors from two downed B-25s were in the water.
His fighter had been struck by twenty-one cannon shells. He was burned, wounded and almost blinded by hydraulic fluid. His canopy was jammed, leaving him unable to escape.
Then another German fighter found him over the Channel and attacked again and again, until its guns finally fell silent.
The American flew home anyway.
This is the story of Robert Johnson..🧵1/7
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Nothing about Robert Samuel Johnson suggested he would become one of the deadliest fighter pilots America ever produced.
He arrived in England in January 1943 with the 56th Fighter Group, sailing over on the Queen Elizabeth, crammed into a two-man cabin shared with thirteen other officers.
He had originally been classified as a bomber pilot, and had never completed the gunnery qualification required of a fighter pilot. He had never fired the Thunderbolt's guns at all. So he was packed off to a gunnery course in Wales to put that right.
Bad weather grounded the training flights, and he came back to his squadron still officially unqualified.
In his memoir, Thunderbolt!, Johnson recalled that he was regarded as one of the pilots in the outfit most likely to get himself shot down.
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The unit he had landed in was extraordinary.
The 56th Fighter Group was commanded by Colonel Hubert Zemke, and the Germans came to know it as Zemke's Wolfpack. It flew the Republic P-47 Thunderbolt, a seven-ton monster of an aircraft that veteran RAF pilots warned the Americans would be no match for the nimble Focke-Wulf 190.
They were wrong.
The Wolfpack would finish the war credited with more aerial victories than any other fighter group in the Eighth Air Force.
Johnson scored his first kill on June 13 1943, and he did it by ignoring orders. He was supposed to be flying top cover. Instead, as he later put it himself, he broke all the rules and regulations to do it, flying straight past his own colonel to shoot down the leader of an eight-plane formation of Fw 190s.
Japanese records credit him with just over 80 kills.
But what he wrote in his own diary tells a completely different story.
This is the story of Tetsuzo Iwamoto..🧵1/7
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Iwamoto lied to his parents about sitting college entrance exams. He secretly enlisted in the Imperial Japanese Navy instead. By 1936 he had earned his wings. By 1938 he was over China in his first real dogfight, outnumbered, untested and completely alone in the chaos.
He shot down three enemy fighters on that first day.
His commanding officer scolded him for being too aggressive.
He didn't care.
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He developed a style nobody could copy.
Patient as a hunter.
He would climb high above the battle and wait.
Watching.
Calculating.
Then he would drop like a stone from altitude, firing at the absolute last possible second before breaking away and climbing again before anyone could react.
American pilots called him the Tiger.
His own men just watched in silence when he came back.
By Christmas 1941, model Spitfires carrying a green shamrock on the nose had become one of the most sought after toys for British schoolboys.
They belonged to an Irish pilot who had become one of the most famous men in Britain, and who, at 21, was the youngest Wing Commander the RAF has ever had.
Seven months later he was gone.
This is the story of Paddy Finucane..🧵1/7
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Brendan Finucane was born in Dublin in 1920, into a family with a complicated history where Britain was concerned.
His father had fought in the Easter Rising of 1916, taking up arms against British rule in Ireland. Paddy grew up in the turbulent years that followed, a childhood shaped by the Irish War of Independence and the civil war that came after it.
In 1936 the family moved to England, and Paddy took a job as an accountant. He hated it. When he saw the chance to fly, he seized it, and in 1938, aged just 17, he applied to join the Royal Air Force.
The son of an Irish rebel was about to become one of the greatest heroes in the history of the RAF.
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He almost did not make it.
Finucane was, by all accounts, a poor student pilot. His training record was littered with bad landings and mistakes. On one infamous occasion he flew so close to his commanding officer's aircraft that his own propeller sliced the tail off the other plane.
In peacetime, a pilot like that would probably never have been allowed near a fighter squadron. But this was 1940, Britain was fighting for its survival, and the RAF needed every pilot it could get.
So they put Paddy Finucane in a Spitfire. And something extraordinary happened. The clumsy trainee turned out to be a natural killer in the air.
He flew into the Battle of Britain with No. 65 Squadron, and in August 1940 he shot down his first German fighter. He was 19 years old.
In a single mission, he shot down six enemy fighters. Some say he did it with a hangover.
He became the top-scoring Mustang ace of the entire war, and his own commander called him the greatest fighter pilot who ever squinted through a gunsight.
Then, on Christmas Day, his own side killed him by mistake.
This is the story of George Preddy..🧵1/7
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George Preddy was not who you would picture as the deadliest American fighter pilot in Europe.
He was a slight, quiet young man from Greensboro, North Carolina, who had fallen in love with flying as a barnstormer before the war. When he tried to become a Navy pilot, they rejected him. He tried again. They rejected him again. In all, the Navy turned him down three times over concerns about his health.
The Army Air Corps finally took a chance on him, and he earned his wings at the end of 1941. But his path to greatness nearly ended before it began. During training over Australia in 1942, another fighter dived into his aircraft in a mid-air collision. The other pilot was killed. Preddy bailed out badly injured and spent three months recovering.
The man the Navy did not want was just getting started.
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Preddy was sent to England and joined the 352nd Fighter Group, a unit famous for the blue-painted noses of its fighters that earned them the nickname the Bluenosers.
He flew first the P-47 Thunderbolt, then the aircraft he would make legendary, the P-51 Mustang. He named each of his fighters the same thing, Cripes A' Mighty, and he began to score.
Preddy turned out to be a natural hunter in the air, a superb marksman with an instinct for the kill. But it was one morning in August 1944 that turned him into a legend.
The story goes that Preddy flew that mission badly hungover from a night of celebrating and dice games. What happened next became one of the most remarkable feats of the air war.