Alumni Review 2015 Issue 1

by Bolling Williamson ’60, Contributing Writer

One of the earlier plaques erected in the VMI Memorial Gardens, occupying a prominent spot near the steps, is in memory of Horatio C. Woodhouse Jr. ’36 who was killed in the battle for Okinawa in 1945.

A native of Norfolk, Virginia, “Monk” was a popular member of the class. His writeup in the 1936 Bomb noted that he rose to the rank of first lieutenant “...maintaining his military prestige without becoming ‘eager.’” It continued, “Never has a block running detail left without him. When asked why he wanted to take such chances with his stripes, he remarked that he only wanted to enjoy himself while he was young.”

After graduation, he accepted a commission into the Marine Corps, served a tour in China and then served as a tactical instructor for schools at the U.S. Marine Corps Base at Quantico. After the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Woodhouse was posted to a variety of command and staff assignments in the Pacific theater and was involved in several amphibious operations.

April 1, 1945, found Lt. Col. Woodhouse commanding the 2nd Battalion, 22nd Marine Regiment and landing with the assault wave on Okinawa. They were a part of the 6th Marine Division and were participating in the largest amphibious landing in the entire Pacific war. It would also prove to be the most costly. Gaining control of the island would enable the Allies to build air bases virtually on the doorstep of the Japanese homeland, so the Japanese troops mounted a defense that, compared with previous battles, was unparalleled in its ferocity.

The 6th Division was assigned to take the northern end of the island, which happened to be more lightly defended, and the units moved relatively quickly to secure it. On April 19, Woodhouse’s troops raised the American flag on the northernmost tip of Okinawa – the nearest point to the Japanese homeland reached by any American unit at that time. Most of the 6th Division was then ordered to the southern end of the island where the Japanese had concentrated their defenses and virtually stopped the Americans.

As the men of the 2nd Battalion moved out toward their new objective, a series of low hills lay in their path. The lead company came up against the first, which became known as Sugar Loaf Hill – a seemingly insignificant mound rising 50 feet above the surrounding terrain but which constituted an integral part of a network of mutually-supporting defensive strong points. The company was repelled; continued efforts to take the hill reduced their strength to 24 effectives, at which time the company was pulled back and others from the battalion were sent up. Woodhouse was personally involved in the four assaults made by his troops by leading and encouraging their efforts. The ground around the hill, which the troops had to cross, was a killing zone; several times the Marines managed to reach the summit, only to be driven back off. This was due to the murderous fire that came from artillery and mortars, as well as from firing ports that were so well designed and concealed inside interlocking caves that many of the troops said they never saw an enemy soldier. The placement of the Japanese reinforced concrete reverse slope bunkers made them impervious to American artillery and airstrikes, and the hill couldn’t be attacked with a force any larger than a rifle company because of its physical dimensions. After eight days of back-and-forth fighting that chewed up a series of very good companies from two regiments, the hill was finally taken.

In a news release published in the New York Herald Tribune May 18, 1945, war correspondent Homer Bigart wrote: “I drove along with Lt. Col. Horatio C. Woodhouse of Norfolk, Virginia, commanding the 2nd Battalion of the 22nd Marine Regiment. Woodhouse is 31 years old and, like many other officers of his division, a graduate of Virginia Military Institute ... It was his battalion that withstood so gallantly the fierce Japanese counterattack two nights ago on Sugar Loaf Hill. There had been no retreat. The company occupying the crest of the hill had repulsed wave after wave, until all the men were dead or wounded ... Woodhouse had a thousand men when the offensive started six days ago. Now he could count 250 effectives ... The fierce intensity of the fire was a revelation to the Marines who had never experienced such heavy concentrations of artillery ...”

Twelve days later, May 30, Woodhouse was killed by a sniper as he led his troops in an assault on another objective. He was posthumously awarded the Silver Star for his bravery.

The same flag that had been raised April 19 was raised again when the last defensive position had been taken. It was then sent to Woodhouse’s mother in Norfolk. She subsequently gave it to the VMI Museum, and it is currently on loan to the Marine Corps Museum. James L. Day, a corporal awarded the Medal of Honor for his actions in the battle for Sugar Loaf, later decorated in Korea and Vietnam and now a retired major general, described Woodhouse as “the greatest commander and Marine I ever knew,” crediting him with decisive actions that enabled his men to move forward rapidly and, most importantly, avoid unnecessary casualties. VMI was well represented in the battle for Okinawa: Lt. Gen. Simon B. Buckner ’906 commanded American forces ashore but was killed in action in the last days of the campaign. The 6th Marine Division was commanded by Maj. Gen. Lemuel C. Shepherd ’917 (a cousin of Woodhouse), and his assistant division commander was Maj. Gen. William T. Clement ’914.