Photo courtesy of Capt Stanley S. Nicolay

Three personalities of the Cactus Air Forcepose after receiving the Navy Cross fromAdm Nimitz on 30 September 1942. Fromleft: Ma] John L. Smith, Ma] Robert E.Galer, and Capt Marion E. Carl.

Marion Carl, now assigned toVMF-223, shot down three Japaneseaircraft on 24 August to become theMarine Corps' first ace. Carl addedtwo more kills on the 26th. Theyoung fighter pilot found himself incompetition with his squadron com-mander, as John Smith also beganaccumulating kills with regularity.

The 30th was a busy day for theMarine fighters on Guadalcanal.The previous day's action saw eight

Japanese aircraft shot down. How-ever, by now, six of VMF-223's orig-inal complement of 19 Wildcats hadalso been destroyed or put out ofaction, The combat had been fastand furious since Smith and hissquadron had arrived only ninedays before. His young pilots werelearning, but at a price.

One of the squadrons that sharedHenderson Field with the Marineswas the 67th Fighter Squadron, asomewhat orphaned group ofArmy Air Corps pilots, who had ar-rived on 22 August, led by CaptainDale Brannon, and their P-400 Aira-cobras, an export version of the BellP-39. Despite its racy looks, theAiracobra found it difficult to getabove 15,000 feet, where much ofthe aerial combat was taking place.

The 67th had had a miserabletime of it so far because of theirplane's poor performance, andmorale was low. The pilots were be-ginning to question their value tothe overall effort, and their com-mander, desperate for any measureof success to share with his men,asked Captain Smith if he and hissquadron could accompany theMarines on their next scramble.

Smith agreed and on 30 August, theMarine and Army fighters—eightF4Fs and seven P-400s—launchedfor a lengthy combat air patrol.

The fighters rendezvoused northof Henderson, maintaining 15,000feet because of the P-400s' lack ofoxygen. Coastwatchers had identi-fied a large formation of Japanesebombers heading toward Hender-son but had lost sight of theirquarry in the rapidly building wallof thunderclouds approaching theisland. The defenders orbited for 40minutes, watching for the enemybombers and their escorts.

Suddenly, Captain Smith saw theseven Army fighters dive toward thewater, in hot pursuit of Zeros thathad emerged from the clouds. Thehighly maneuverable Zeros quicklyturned the tables on the P-400s,however. As the Japanese fightersconcentrated on the hapless Bells,the Marine Wildcats lined up behindthe Zeros and quickly shot downfour of the dark green Mitsubishis.The effect of the F4Fs' heavy ma-chine guns was devastating.

Making a second run, CaptainSmith found himself going head-to-head with a Zero, its pilot just as de-

A profile of Bell P-39 Airacobra by Larry Lapadura. "Short Stroke"operated from Henderson Field on Guadalcanal from late 1942 toearly 1943. The aircraft's deceptively streamlined shape belied a

4

mediocre performance, especially above 15,000 feet. However, theaircraft was well armed and used with success as a ground strafer.

Author's Collection

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Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 11984

Maj John L. Smith poses in a Wildcat afterreturning to the States. A tough, capablecombat leader, Smith received the Medal ofHonor for his service at Guadalcanal.

termined as his Marine opponent.Smith's guns finally blew the Zeroup just before a collision or beforeone of the two fighter pilots wouldhave had to turn away. By the endof the engagement, John Smith hadshot down two more Zeros for atotal of four kills. With nine kills,Smith was the leading MarineCorps ace at the time. FourteenJapanese fighters—the bombersthey were escorting had turnedback—had been shot down by theMarine and Army pilots, althoughfour of the P-400s were also de-stroyed. Two of the pilots returnedto Guadalcanal; two did not.

The Marine fighter contingent atGuadalcanal was now down to fiveoperational aircraft; it needed rein-forcement immediately. Help wason the way, however, for VMF-224arrived in the afternoon of the 30th,after John Smith and his tired, butelated squadron returned from theirfrantic encounter with the Japanesefighter force. For their first few mis-sions, VMF-224's pilots accompa-nied the now-veteran RainbowSquadron pilots of VMF223.*

When it was first established on I May1942, VMF-223 was called the "Rainbow"Squadron. In May 1943, it changed its nick-name to the more Marine-like "Bulldogs."

Captain Galer's VMF-224 had notime to acclimate to its new base.(The day after its arrival, it was inaction.) The squadron landed on the30th in the midst of an alert, andwas quickly directed to its parkingareas on the field.

The next two weeks saw severalof the Marine aviators bail out oftheir Wildcats after tangling withthe enemy Zeros. On 31 August,First Lieutenant Stanley S. Nicolayof VMF-224 was on a flight withSecond Lieutenant Richard R.Amerine, Second LieutenantCharles E. Bryans, and CaptainJohn F Dobbin, the squadron execu-tive officer. It was VMF-224's firstcombat mission since its arrival theday before. As the Marines strug-gled past 18,000 feet on their wayup to 20,000, Lieutenant Nicolaynoticed two of the wingmen lag-ging farther and farther back.

He called Amerine and Bryansbut got no response. He then calledDobbin and said he wanted to dropback to check on the waywardWildcats. "It's too late to break up

the formation," Dobbin wisely said."There's nothing we can do." Nico-lay closed up on Dobbin and theycontinued on.

The two young aviators hadproblems with their primitive oxy-gen systems and lacking sufficientoxygen, they possibly had evenpassed out in the thin air. Nicolayrecalled,

We never saw Bryans again.It was so senseless. I remem-ber thinking that after all theirtraining and effort, neither oneof them ever fired a shot inanger. They had no chance.The oxygen system was just atiny, white triangular maskthat fitted over the nose andmouth. You turned on the bot-tle, and that was it. No pres-sure system, nothing.Apparently, the two Marine pi-

lots had been jumped by rovingZeros. Bryans was thought to bekilled almost immediately, whileAmerine was able to bail out. Heparachuted to the relative safety ofthe jungle, and as he attempted to

Photo courtesy of capt Stanley S. Nicolay

lstLt Stanley S. Nicolay beside a Wildcat, probably just before deploying to the Pacific in1942. He eventually shot down three Betty bombers at Guadalcanal. Note the narrow trackof the Wildcat's main landing gear.

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return to Henderson Field, he en-countered several Japanese patrolson the way back, killing four enemysoldiers before returning to the Ma-rine lines.

Marion Carl, who had 11 kills,had his own escape-and-evasion ex-perience after he and his wingman,Lieutenant Clayton M. Canfield,were shot down on 9 September.Carl bailed out of his burning Wild-cat and landed in the water where afriendly native scooped him up andhid him from the roving Japanesepatrols. (Canfield had been quicklyrescued by an American destroyer.)

The native took the ace to a na-tive doctor who spoke English. Thedoctor gave Carl a small boat withan old motor which needed somework before it functioned properly.With the Japanese army all around,it was important that the Americanpilot get out as soon as he could.

Finally, he and the doctor arrivedoffshore of Marine positions onGuadalcanal. Dennis Byrd recalledCarl's return on the afternoon of 14September:

A small motor launch oper-ated by a very black nativewith a huge head of frizzledhair pulled up to the Navyjetty at Kukum. The tall whiteman tending the boat's wheez-ing engine was VMF-223'sCaptain Marion Carl. He hadbeen listed as missing in actionsince September 9th and waspresumed dead... .Carl re-ported that on the day he dis-appeared, he'd shot down twomore Jap bombers. CaptainCarl's score was now 12 andMajor Smith's, 14.Now-Major Galer scored his

squadron's first kills when he shotclown two Zeros during a noontimeraid of 26 bombers and eight Zeroescorts over Henderson on 5 Sep-tember. VMF-224 went up to inter-cept them, and the squadron com-mander knocked down a bomber

and a fighter, after which he wasshot down by a Zero that tackedonto him from behind and riddledhis Wildcat. Recalling the action ina wartime press release, Galer said:

I knew I'd be forced to land,but that Zero getting me deadto rights made me sore. Iheaded into a cloud, and in-stead of coming out below itas he expected, I came out ontop and let him have it....

Then we both fell, but hewas in flames and done for. Imade a forced landing in afield, and before my wheelscould stop rolling, MajorRivers J. Morrell and Lieu-tenant Pond of VMF-223, bothforced their ships on the samedeck—all within three minutesof each other!

Two days after his forced land-ing, Major Galer had to ditch hisaircraft once more after anotherround with the Japanese. His flightwas returning from a mission whenit ran into a group of enemy

bombers. He related that:One of them fell to my guns,

and pulling out of the dive, I

took after a Zero. But I didn'tpull around fast enough, and hisguns knocked out my engine,setting it on fire. We were atabout 5,000 feet, but I feared theswirling mass of Japs more thanthe fire. . . so I laid over on myback and dove headlong forsome clouds below me. Comingthrough the clouds, I didn't seeany more Japs, and leveled offat 2,000 feet. I changed my an-gle of flight and grade of descentso I'd land as near as possible toshore. I set down in the drinksome 200 or 300 yards fromshore and swam in, unhurt.*

*Thjs was not the first time Galer had a wa-tery end to a flight. As a first lieutenant withVMF-2 in 1940, he had to ride his GrummanF3F biplane fighter in while approaching thecarrier Sarotoga (CV3). The Grumman sankand stayed on the bottom off San Diego for 40years. It was discovered by a Navy explo-ration team and raised, somewhat the worsefor wear. Retired Brigadier General RobertGaler was at the dock when his old mountfound dry land once more.

National Archives photo 208-PU-14X-1 PNT

A rare photo of an exuberant LtCol Bauer as he demonstrates his technique to two groundcrewmen. In tensely competitive, and known as "the Coach," Bauer was one of several Ma-rine Corps aviators who received the Medal of Honor, albeit posthumously, at Guadalcanal.

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p

I.'-4.

The Aircraft in the Conflict

The U.S. Navy and Marine Corps were defi­nitely at a disadvantage when America en­tered World War II in December 1941. Besides

other areas, their frontline aircraft were well behindworld standards.

The Japanese did not suffer similarly, however, forthey were busy building up their arsenal as theysought sources of raw materials they needed and wereprepared to go to war to acquire. Besides possess­ing what was the finest aerial torpedo in the world­the Long Lance-they had the aircraft to deliver it. Andthey had fighters to protect the bombers. Although theworld initially refused to believe how good Japaneseaircraft and their pilots were, it wasn't long after the at­tack on Pearl Harbor that reality seeped in.

In many respects, the U.S. Army Air Force - it hadbeen the U.S. Army Air Corps until 20 June 1941-andthe Navy and Marine Corps had the same problems inthe first two years of the war. The Army's top fighterswere the Bell P-39 Airacobra and the Curtiss P-40B/ETomahawk/Kittyhawk. The Navy and Marine Corps'two frontline fighters were the Brewster F2A-3 Buffaloand the Grumman F4F-3 / 4 Wildcat during 1942.

Of these single-seaters, only the Army's P-40 and theNavy's F4F achieved any measure of success againstthe Japanese in 1942. The P-40's main attributes wereits diving speed, which let it disengage from a fight,and its ability to absorb punishment and still fly, a con-

The first production model of Grumman's stubby, little Wildcatwas the F4F-3, which carried four .50-caliber machine guns in thewings. Its wings did not fold, unlike the -4 which added two moremachine guns and folding wings. These F4F-3s of VMF-121 carryprewar exercise markings.

Author's Collection

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fidence builder for its hard-pressed pilots. The Wildcatwas also a tough little fighter ("built like Grummaniron" was a popular catch-phrase of the period), andhad a devastating battery of four (for the F4F-3) or six.sO-caliber machine guns (for the F4F-4) and a fair de­gree of maneuverability.

Both the Imperial Japanese Army and Navy also hadoutstanding aircraft. The Army's primary fighter of theearly war was the Nakajima K.43 Hayabusa (PeregrineFalcon), a light, little aircraft, with a slim, tapered fuse­lage and a bubble canopy.

The Navy's fighter came to symbolize the Japaneseair effort, even for the Japanese, themselves. The Mit­subishi Type "0" Carrier Fighter (its official designa­tion) was as much a trend-setting design as wasBritain's Spitfire or the American Corsair.

However, as author Norman Franks wrote, the Al­lied crews found that "the Japanese airmen were.. .farsuperior to the crude stereotypes so disparaged by thepopular press and cartoonists. And in a Zero they werehighly dangerous."

The hallmark of Japanese fighters had always beensuperb maneuverability. Early biplanes-which hadbeen developed from British and French designs-setthe pace. By the mid-1930s, the Army and Navy hadtwo world-class fighters, the Nakajima Ki.27 and theMitsubishi A5M series, respectively, both low-wing,fixed-gear aircraft. The Ki.27 did have a modern en­closed cockpit, while the A5M's cockpit was open (ex­cept for one variant that experimented with a canopy

The Wildcat was a relatively small aircraft, as were most of the pre­war fighters throughout the world. The aircraft's narrow gear trackis shown to advantage in this ground view of a VMF-l21 F4F-3.

Aut,hor's Collection

This A6M3 is taking off from Rabaul in 1943.

which was soon discarded in service.) A major andfatal disadvantage of most Japanese fighters wastheir light armament- usually a pair of .30-calibermachine guns - and lack of armor, as well as theirgreat flammability,

When the Type "0" first flew in 1939, most Japanesepilots were enthusiastic about the new fighter. It wasfast, had retractable landing gear and an enclosed cock­pit, and carried two 20rnrn cannon besides the two ma­chine guns, Initial operational evaluation in China in1940 confirmed the aircraft's potential.

By the time of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor,the A6M2 was the Imperial Navy's standard carrierfighter, and rapidly replaced the older ASMs still inservice. As the A6M2 proved successful in combat, itacquired its wartime nickname, "Zero," although theJapanese rarely referred to it as such. The evocativename carne from the custom of designating aircraft in

The Zero's incredible maneuverability came at some expense fromits top speed. In an effort to increase the speed, the designersclipped the folding wingtips from the carrier-based A6M2 andevolved the land-based A6M3, Model 32. The pilots were notimpressed with the speed increase and the production run wasshort, the A6M3 reverting back to its span as the Model 22. Thetype was originally called "Hap," after Gen Henry "Hap" Arnold,Chief of the Army Air Force. Arnold was so angry at the dubi­ous honor that the name was quickly changed to Hamp. ThisHamp is shown in the Solomons during the Guadalcanalcampaign. Author's Collection

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Author's Collection

Brewster's fat little F2A Buffalo is credited with a dismal perfor­mace in American and British service, although the Finns rackedup a fine score against the Russians. This view of a MarineBrewster shows the aptness of its popular name, which actuallycame from the British. Its characteristic greenhouse canopy andmain wheels tucked snugly into its belly are also well shown.

reference to the Japanese calendar. Thus, since 1940 cor­responded to the year 2600 in Japan, the fighter was theType "00" fighter, which was shortened to "0." Thewestern press picked up the designation and the name"Zero" was born.

The fighter received another name in 1943 whichwas almost as popular, especially among the Ameri­can flight crews. A system of first names referred tovarious enemy aircraft, in much the same way that thepostwar NATO system referred to Soviet and Chineseaircraft. The Zero was tagged "Zeke," and the nameswere used interchangeably by everyone, from flightcrews to intelligence officers. (Other examples of thesystem included "Claude" [ASM], "Betty" [MitsubishiG4M bomber], and "Oscar" [Ki.43].)

As discussed in the main text, the Navy and MarineCorps Wildcats were sometimes initially hard-pressed todefend their ships and fields against the large forces ofBetty bombers and their Zero escorts, which had rangesof 800 miles or more through the use of drop tanks.

The Brewster Buffalo had little to show for its fewencounters with the Japanese, which is difficult to un­derstand given the type's early success during theRusso-Finnish War. The F2A-1, a lighter, earlier modelof the -3 which served with the Marines, was the stan­dard Finnish fighter plane. In its short combat career inAmerican service, the Brewster failed miserably.

Thus, the only fighter capable of meeting the Japan­ese on anything approaching equal terms was the F4F,which was fortunate because the Wildcat was really allthat was available in those dark days following PearlHarbor. Retired Brigadier General Robert E. Galer de­scribed the Wildcat as "very rugged and very mis­treated (at Guadalcanal)." He added:

Photo courtesy of Robert Mikesh

The A6M2-N floatplane version of the Zero did fairly well, suffer­ing only a small loss in its legendary maneuverability. Top speedwas somewhat affected, however, and the aircraft's relatively lightarmament was a detriment.

Full throttle, very few replacement parts,muddy landing strips, battle damage, roughly re­paired. We loved them. We did not worry aboutflight characteristics except when senior officerswanted to make them bombers as well as fighters.The Japanese also operated a unique form of

fighter. Other combatants had tried to make seaplanesof existing designs. The U.S. Navy had even hungfloats on the Wildcat, which quickly became the"Wildcatfish." The British had done it with the Spit­fire. But the resulting combination left much to be de­sired and sapped the original design of much of itsspeed and maneuverability.

The Japanese, however, seeing the need for awater-based fighter in the expanses of the Pacific,modified the A6M2 Zero, and came up with whatwas arguably the most successful water-based fighter

A good view of an early F4U-1 under construction in 1942. Themassive amount of wiring and piping for the aircraft's huge Pratt& Whitney engine shows up here, as do the Corsair's gull wings.

Author's Collection

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of the war, the A6M2-N, which was allocated the Al­lied codename "Rufe."

Manufactured by Mitsubishi's competitor, Nakajima,float-Zeros served in such disparate climates as theAleutians and the Solomons. Although the floats bledoff at least 40 mph from the land-based version's topspeed, they seemed to have had only a minor effect onits original maneuverability; the Rufe aquired the samerespect as its sire.

While the F4F and P-40 (along with the luckless P­39) held the line in the Pacific, other, newer designswere leaving production lines, and none too soon. Thetwo best newcomers were the Army's Lockheed P-38Lightning and the Navy's Vought F4U Corsair. The P­38 quickly captured the headlines and public interestwith its unique twin-boomed, twin-engine layout. Itsoon developed into a long-range escort, and served inthe Pacific as well as Europe.

The Corsair was originally intended to fly from air­craft carriers, but its high landing speed, long nose thatobliterated the pilot's view forward during the landingapproach, and its tendency to bounce, banished the bigfighter from American flight decks for a while. TheBritish, however, modified the aircraft, mainly by clip­ping its wings, and flew it from their small decks.

Deprived of its new carrier fighter-having settledon the new Grumman F6F Hellcat as its main carrierfighter-the Navy offered the F4U to the Marines. Theytook the first squadrons to the Solomons, and after afew disappointing first missions, they made the gull­winged fighter their own, eventually even flying itfrom the small decks of Navy escort carriers in the laterstages of the war.

The Marine pilot of this F4U-l, Lt Donald Balch, contemplates hisgood fortune by the damaged tail of his fighter. The Corsair was arelatively tough aircraft, but like any plane, damage to vital por­tions of its controls or powerplant could prove fatal.

Author's Collectionr.

National Archives 80G-54284

This "bird-cage" Corsair is landing at Espiritu Santo in September1943. The aircraft's paint is weLL-weathered and its main gear tiresare "dusty" from the coral runways of the area.

Besides the two main fighters, the Army's Oscarand the Navy's Zeke and its floatplane derivative, theRufe, the Japanese flew a wide assortment of aircraft,including land-based bombers, such as the MitsubishiG4M (codenamed Betty) and Ki.21 (Sally). Carrier­based bombers included the Aichi D3A divebomber(the Val) which saw considerable service during thefirst three years of the war, and its stablemate, thetorpedo bomber from Nakajima, the B5N (Kate), oneof the most capable torpedo-carriers of the first halfof the war. The Marine Corps squadrons in theSolomons regularly encountered these aircraft. FirstLieutenant James Swett's two engagements on 7 April1943 netted the young Wildcat pilot seven Vals, andthe Medal of Honor.

Although early wartime propaganda ridiculedJapanese aircraft and their pilots, returning Alliedaviators told different stories, although the details oftheir experiences were kept classified. Each side'sculture provided the basis for their aircraft design

Mitsubishi G4M Betty bombers, perhaps during the Solomonscampaign. Probably the best Japanese land-based bomber inthe war's first two years, the G4M series enjoyed a long range,

National Archives 80G-54279

1stLt Rolland N. Rinabarger of VMF-214 in his early F4U-1 Cor­sair at Espiritu Santo in September 1943. Badly shot up by Zerosduring an early mission to Kahili only two weeks after this photowas taken, Lt Rinabarger returned to the States for lengthy treat­ment. He was still in California when the war ended. The na­tional insignia on his Corsair is outlined in red, a short-livedattempt to regain that color from the prewar marking after thered circle was deleted following Pearl Harbor to avoid confu­sion with the Japanese "meatball." Even this small amount ofred was deceptive, however, and by mid-1944, it was gone fromthe insignia again. Note the large mud spray on the aft underfuselage.

philosophies. Eventually, the Japanese were over­whelmed by American technology and numerical su­periority. However, for the important first 18 monthsof the Pacific war, they had the best. But, as was alsothe case in the European theaters, a series of misfor­tunes, coincidences, a lack of understanding by lead­ers, as well as the drain of prolonged combat, finallyallowed the Americans and their Allies to overcomethe enemy's initial edge.

but could burst into flames under attack, much to the chagrin ofits crews. The type flew as a suicide aircraft, and finally, paintedwhite with green crosses, carried surrender teams to various sites.

Photo courtesy Robert Mikesh

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Galer would also be shot downthree more times during his flyingcareer—twice more during WorldWar II and once during a tour inKorea.

The last half of September 1942was a time of extreme trial for theCactus Air Force (Cactus was thecodename for Guadalcanal). Somerelief for the Marine squadronscame in the form of bad weatherand the arrival of disjointed contin-gents of Navy aircraft and crewswho were displaced from carrierswhich were either sunk, or dam-aged. Saratoga (CV3) and Enterprise(CV6) had been torpedoed orbombed and sent back to rear arearepair stations. The remaining carri-ers, Hornet (CV8) and Wasp (CV7),patrolled off Guadalcanal, their cap-tains and admirals decidedly un-easy about exposing the last Ameri-can flattops in the Pacific as meatytargets to the numerically superiorJapanese ships and aircraft.

Wasp took a lurking Japanesesubmarine's torpedoes on 15 Sep-tember while covering a convoy.Now only Hornet remained. Navyplanes and crews from Enterprise,Saratoga, and now Wasp flew intoHenderson Field to supplement thehard-pressed Marine fighter andbomber squadrons there. It was stilla meager force of 63 barely opera-tional aircraft, a collection of Navyand Marine F4Fs and SBDs, NavyGrumann TBF Avenger torpedobombers, and a few forlorn ArmyP-400s. A few new Marine pilotsfrom VMF-121 filtered in on 25 Sep-tember. However, two days later,the crews from Enterprise's contin-gent took their planes out to meettheir carrier steaming in to arriveon station off Guadalcanal. As theweather broke on the 27th, the En-terprise crews took their leave ofGuadalcanal.

The next day, the Japanesemounted their first raid in nearlytwo weeks. Warned by the coast-

watchers, Navy and Marine fightersrose to intercept the 70-plane force.Now a lieutenant colonel, Harold"Indian Joe" Bauer was making oneof his periodic visits from Efate, andscored a kill, a Zero, before landing.

A native of North Platte, Ne-braska, Bauer was part-Indian (aswas Major Gregory "Pappy" Boy-ington). A veteran of 10 years as aMarine aviator, he watched theprogress of the campaign atGuadalcanal from his rear-area baseon Efate. He would come north,using as an excuse the need tocheck on those members of hissquadron who had been sent toHenderson and would occasionallyfly with the Cactus fighters.

His victory on the 28th was hisfirst, and soon, Bauer was a familiarface to the Henderson crews. Bauerwas visiting VMF-224 on 3 Octoberwhen a coastwatcher reported alarge group of Japanese bombers in-bound for Henderson. VMF-223and -224 took off to intercept theraiders. The Marine Wildcats ac-counted for 11 enemy aircraft; Lieu-tenant Colonel Bauer claimed four,making him an ace.

On 30 September, AdmiralChester Nimitz, Commander-in-Chief, Pacific, braved a heavy rain-storm to fly in to Henderson for anawards ceremony. John Smith, Mar-ion Carl, and Bob Galer, as well assome 1st Marine Division person-nel, received the Navy Cross. Othermembers of the Cactus Air Force,Navy and Marine, were decoratedwith Distinguished Flying Crosses.Nimitz departed in a blinding rainafter presenting a total of 27 medalsto the men of the Cactus Air Force.

Combat in October

October was a pivotal month forthe air campaign on Guadalcanal. Itwas a time when the men who hadarrived in August were clearly atthe end of their endurance, for sick-

:ii

ness and fatigue hit them after theyhad survived Japanese bullets.However, new squadrons andcrews were arriving, among themVMF-121, led by Major Leonard K."Duke" Davis. His executive officer,Captain Joseph J. Foss, would soonmake a name for himself.

Foss came from Sioux Falls,South Dakota, and as a boy had de-veloped a shooting eye whichwould stand him in good steadover Guadalcanal. He enlisted inthe Marine Corps in February 1940and received his wings of gold 13months later. Originally consideredtoo old to fly fighters (he was 27),he was ordered to a photo recon-naissance squadron in San Diego.However, he kept submitting re-quests for transfer to fighters andwas finally sent to VMF-121.

A few days after arriving at Hen-derson, Foss scored his first victoryon 13 October. As an attacking Zerofired and missed, Foss fired hisguns sending the enemy fighterdown. Three more Zeros then at-tacked Foss, putting holes in hisWildcat's oil system. The newlyblooded pilot had to make a dead-stick landing back at Cactus Base.

Other veterans of the campaignhad not stayed idle. Major Smith ofVMF-223 had taken his squadronup on 2 October against a raid byJapanese bombers and fighters. TheZero escorts dove on the climbingNavy and Marine Wildcats, quicklyshooting down two fighters fromVMF-223. Smith exited a cloud toconfront three Zeros. He blasted afighter into a ball of flame. How-ever, the two remaining Zeros goton his tail and peppered the strug-gling little blue-gray F4F with can-non and machine gun fire. Listen-ing to a repaired radio from adamaged SBD back at Guadalcanal,the crews of Dennis Byrd's VMSB-232 heard Captain Carl call to hisskipper. "John, you've got a Zero onyour tail!" "1 know, I know," Smith