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Into the Valley: Marines at Guadalcanal
John Hersey (1914–93) was a correspondent for Time and Life magazines when in 1942 he was sent to cover Guadalcanal, the largest of the Solomon Islands in the Western Pacific. While there, Hersey observed a small battle upon which Into the Valley is based. While the battle itself was not of great significance, Hersey gives insightful details concerning the jungle environment, recounts conversations among the men before, during, and after battle, and describes how the wounded were evacuated as well as other works of daily heroism.
164 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1943
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356 people want to read
About the author
John Hersey
115 books863 followersJohn Richard Hersey, a Pulitzer Prize-winning American writer, earliest practiced the "new journalism," which fuses storytelling devices of the novel with nonfiction reportage. A 36-member panel under the aegis of journalism department of New York University adjudged account of Hersey of the aftermath of the atomic bomb, dropped on Hiroshima, Japan, as the finest piece of journalism of the 20th century.
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Displaying 1 - 24 of 24 reviews
May 22, 2018
This is the story of an insignificant battle fought in the South Pacific during World War II, as seen by a writer who was covering it as part of the Witnesses to War series. Marines creep through the jungle across an island, are ambushed by Japanese, and retreat to safety over many miles, carrying their dead and dying comrades.
The thing that struck me most was the palpable relief from Hersey after the battle, when he knew he would be going back to the U.S. and the Marines would not.
When I was about to turn 25, I received a letter from my father, who served as a Marine in the South Pacific during World War II. It said in part:
"Did I ever tell you that on November 21, 1943, eighteen years before you were born, you came close to not having a chance to be? Early on that lovely day, my platoon and another moved across the Piva River on the island of Bougainville to find the Japanese. We did. They allowed us to get to within 10-15 feet of their positions in the jungle before they began firing. In time we had to withdraw, leaving a number behind. By late afternoon we had gotten back across the River and were trying to recover from our experience, when we began getting shelled with the shells landing in our midst. We were saved by the fact that the ammunition being used were the kind that penetrated the ground before exploding and we just got buried in mud, instead of injuries. That day and some of those following were probably the worst. I don't believe I have told of this experience before – you can tell it still affects me by the numerous mistakes. I tell it to you now because your birthdate marks 2 significant days in my life."
While Into the Valley is not about my father's specific battle, the terror felt and the bravery shown were probably pretty similar, and I'm glad to have this insight into the worst day of my father's life. Hersey's writing style is spare, but he makes you imagine what it must have been like, sneaking through the jungle in full gear, trying to be quiet, knowing the enemy is waiting to kill you. One passage:
"What made it eerie was that the jungle was far from silent. The birds whose cries had sounded so cheerful from the heights were terrifying now. Parakeets and macaws screeched from nowhere. There was one bird with an altogether unmusical call which sounded exactly like a man whistling shrilly through his fingers three times - and then another, far off in Japanese territory, would answer. The stream made a constant noise, and an annoying one. It seemed to be terribly important to listen for the enemy (as if the Japs would be so stupid as to crackle through the underbrush), but the stream's continuous chatter, maddeningly cheerful, made that impossible in any case." (p. 44)
I highly recommend this short little book for anyone with a friend or family member who saw action during a war.
The thing that struck me most was the palpable relief from Hersey after the battle, when he knew he would be going back to the U.S. and the Marines would not.
When I was about to turn 25, I received a letter from my father, who served as a Marine in the South Pacific during World War II. It said in part:
"Did I ever tell you that on November 21, 1943, eighteen years before you were born, you came close to not having a chance to be? Early on that lovely day, my platoon and another moved across the Piva River on the island of Bougainville to find the Japanese. We did. They allowed us to get to within 10-15 feet of their positions in the jungle before they began firing. In time we had to withdraw, leaving a number behind. By late afternoon we had gotten back across the River and were trying to recover from our experience, when we began getting shelled with the shells landing in our midst. We were saved by the fact that the ammunition being used were the kind that penetrated the ground before exploding and we just got buried in mud, instead of injuries. That day and some of those following were probably the worst. I don't believe I have told of this experience before – you can tell it still affects me by the numerous mistakes. I tell it to you now because your birthdate marks 2 significant days in my life."
While Into the Valley is not about my father's specific battle, the terror felt and the bravery shown were probably pretty similar, and I'm glad to have this insight into the worst day of my father's life. Hersey's writing style is spare, but he makes you imagine what it must have been like, sneaking through the jungle in full gear, trying to be quiet, knowing the enemy is waiting to kill you. One passage:
"What made it eerie was that the jungle was far from silent. The birds whose cries had sounded so cheerful from the heights were terrifying now. Parakeets and macaws screeched from nowhere. There was one bird with an altogether unmusical call which sounded exactly like a man whistling shrilly through his fingers three times - and then another, far off in Japanese territory, would answer. The stream made a constant noise, and an annoying one. It seemed to be terribly important to listen for the enemy (as if the Japs would be so stupid as to crackle through the underbrush), but the stream's continuous chatter, maddeningly cheerful, made that impossible in any case." (p. 44)
I highly recommend this short little book for anyone with a friend or family member who saw action during a war.
March 10, 2024
An excellent but very short book by John Hersey from when he was embedded with the Marines on Guadalcanal when he was a reporter. He tells about a small skirmish the company he was with became involved in when they were caught off-guard while on a patrol. They walked into a trap that involved camouflaged Japanese snipers hidden in trees and a mortar barrage directed at them. They were taking heavy casualties and the men were starting to panic when their leader, Captain Rigaud, took charge and organized them into an orderly retreat.
January 20, 2025
First hand account by a first rate writer and correspondent
Having read most the histories and literature on the Guadalcanal campaign, I was delighted to find an account of one small battle that so encompassed the entire experience of the Marine 1st Division on Guadal.
Having read most the histories and literature on the Guadalcanal campaign, I was delighted to find an account of one small battle that so encompassed the entire experience of the Marine 1st Division on Guadal.
October 2, 2021
This book is a short read that is right to the point, written with an artistic flair.
January 19, 2017
Haunting book, as befits a Pulitzer Prize winning author. The ending brought tears to my eyes, and it was't only for the men who died.
January 25, 2022
Neat book. Hersey has a way of accounting for textures of persons by offering sleight accounts of small things. Initially, this can feel a bit rushed or brief - but my experience was that by the time I reached the end, I did feel enough of these lightly rendered noticings began to congeal into an understated preservation of texture of the events and persons described.
I’m conscious while writing that I don’t know anything about what it was like to be a Marine on Guadalcanal. It can become a reflex, with a text like this, to assess its merit in some degree on the extent to which it is able to convey that experience itself, the experience if “presence” at the historical event in question. Achieving this is often figured to vindicate the text, while failing at it can feel corny or maybe too aestheticized.
What I think Hersey does beautifully is evade that question of representative “presence” entirely. The reader isn’t there, and can never assume to know what “there” was like - if we did assume to know, we’d be basing our recognition of the supposed authenticity of the text off of our own imaginative standards anyway - it would be circular. Hersey seems to write like someone conscious of this catch, and careful of raising the specter of aestheticized ion in a way that makes the book more about his work as the author and our immersion as readers - keeping the focus on happenings and in persons. So instead, we get Hersey’s account - the things that, as a not-soldier, he noticed. What they add up to isn’t really a grandiose tale, or a mimetic representation. But what feels like a tiny preservation of the scraps and textures of the things he saw and heard. Never do they add up to a full picture, and the better for it.
It took me a while to learn to trust Hersey in his telling - to catch the rhythm and begin to feel that he wasn’t being intentionally terse or quippy - rather that, in the simplicity of this text’s narrative ambitions, he’s being as respectfully present to the experience as one might hope to have the discipline to be. I do think there are these little emergences of American apple-pie, 1940s propaganda film phraseologies, sentiments, etc. But as the work matures and moves through more complicated happenings towards the close, I was actually more frequently touched by the vulnerability he witnessed to - and not the pathos-filled horror of war vulnerability you might get from a more aestheticized text. Just the small stuff - people’s insecurities slightly noted, places people failed at or succeeded at simple things. Just people, being. I thought it was a beautiful book, and one that i think is going to sit with me much longer than I expected.
I’m conscious while writing that I don’t know anything about what it was like to be a Marine on Guadalcanal. It can become a reflex, with a text like this, to assess its merit in some degree on the extent to which it is able to convey that experience itself, the experience if “presence” at the historical event in question. Achieving this is often figured to vindicate the text, while failing at it can feel corny or maybe too aestheticized.
What I think Hersey does beautifully is evade that question of representative “presence” entirely. The reader isn’t there, and can never assume to know what “there” was like - if we did assume to know, we’d be basing our recognition of the supposed authenticity of the text off of our own imaginative standards anyway - it would be circular. Hersey seems to write like someone conscious of this catch, and careful of raising the specter of aestheticized ion in a way that makes the book more about his work as the author and our immersion as readers - keeping the focus on happenings and in persons. So instead, we get Hersey’s account - the things that, as a not-soldier, he noticed. What they add up to isn’t really a grandiose tale, or a mimetic representation. But what feels like a tiny preservation of the scraps and textures of the things he saw and heard. Never do they add up to a full picture, and the better for it.
It took me a while to learn to trust Hersey in his telling - to catch the rhythm and begin to feel that he wasn’t being intentionally terse or quippy - rather that, in the simplicity of this text’s narrative ambitions, he’s being as respectfully present to the experience as one might hope to have the discipline to be. I do think there are these little emergences of American apple-pie, 1940s propaganda film phraseologies, sentiments, etc. But as the work matures and moves through more complicated happenings towards the close, I was actually more frequently touched by the vulnerability he witnessed to - and not the pathos-filled horror of war vulnerability you might get from a more aestheticized text. Just the small stuff - people’s insecurities slightly noted, places people failed at or succeeded at simple things. Just people, being. I thought it was a beautiful book, and one that i think is going to sit with me much longer than I expected.
September 14, 2020
I've read many war diaries ranging from 'I Rode With Stonewall' about the Civil War to 'One Bugle, No Drums' about Korea. They give the reader a sense of what it's like in combat and the knowledge that sitting it an easy chair reading about it is as close as any sane person would want to get to it.
Now you take a gifted novelist and send him on a hopeless attack with the Marines at Guadalcanal and somehow the horror of war ends up right in your lap. This slim volume brings home the man's inhumanity to man that is war in an inescapable way. William Sherman said it best,"war is hell." Hershey shows that Sherman's summation was an understatement.
Now you take a gifted novelist and send him on a hopeless attack with the Marines at Guadalcanal and somehow the horror of war ends up right in your lap. This slim volume brings home the man's inhumanity to man that is war in an inescapable way. William Sherman said it best,"war is hell." Hershey shows that Sherman's summation was an understatement.
October 20, 2025
There is another review on here that refers to the action recorded in this short book as ‘insignificant.’ While said review does nothing which would imply further extension of their use of this word (i.e., from the action to the men carrying it out), and they recount a letter from their own father to partially back up their claim, I still strongly disagree with the use of the word. I do not think, and this short text exemplifies this perfectly, that any action carried out during any war, no matter how big or small, by our guys or by theirs, is or was insignificant, even in hindsight. Hersey does an excellent job at highlighting just how much manpower, effort, toil and fear go into as small an action as going down into the valley, and, for me, a good job at eluding to how monstrous larger operations must have been for such guys, as it would be this, times a thousand.
Well worth the read, there are some excellent little literary moments within. The only reason I don’t give this a higher mark is because of some awkward wording/sentences, a few small errors, and just the fact that it’s so short. My copy says its 79 pages long, but maybe a dozen of these pages are sketches of American marines, which, while nice, I could have done without and done with a little more work put into the setting up of the scene, further circumstances of the war, and more characterization of the marines in the text. I especially feel this way as it remains unexplained if Hersey drew these pictures, or if someone else did (going to post this review, this page cites the illustrator as one Donald L. Dickson, so I suppose that explains that, although it leaves them still as feeling very randomly included). Either way, thank you Mr. Hersey, I hope you had those Tom Collinses.
An extra thank you to ‘The Unauthorized History of the Pacific War’ podcast, as that is where I heard about this book from.
Well worth the read, there are some excellent little literary moments within. The only reason I don’t give this a higher mark is because of some awkward wording/sentences, a few small errors, and just the fact that it’s so short. My copy says its 79 pages long, but maybe a dozen of these pages are sketches of American marines, which, while nice, I could have done without and done with a little more work put into the setting up of the scene, further circumstances of the war, and more characterization of the marines in the text. I especially feel this way as it remains unexplained if Hersey drew these pictures, or if someone else did (going to post this review, this page cites the illustrator as one Donald L. Dickson, so I suppose that explains that, although it leaves them still as feeling very randomly included). Either way, thank you Mr. Hersey, I hope you had those Tom Collinses.
An extra thank you to ‘The Unauthorized History of the Pacific War’ podcast, as that is where I heard about this book from.
January 16, 2022
The first book I'd ever read by John Hersey was "Hiroshima". That was more than forty five years ago when I was in high school, and it had a huge impact on me.
This is only the second work of his I'd ever read. He based it on his war reporting as a journalist assigned to the Marines on Guadalcanal, the first offensive land operation against the Empire of Japan.
What struck me was the quality of Hersey's writing. The introduction alone had me laughing out loud with delight, not because it was funny (it wasn't), but because I was so overjoyed with the prose. The introduction set the stage for the later story, and we learn how Hersey "didn't die" twice before actually getting into range of the Japanese guns. He quickly started to realize his mortality.
Hersey's account covers the advance, and failure, of a Marine company into a valley where the enemy waited, dug in and fully prepared. It's "in the trenches" reporting, and you experience the mortars, the sniping, and the machine gun fire that pinned down and frustrated the Marines.
It's a good book, but slightly romanticizes the Marines with language sanitized for the age and with artwork that makes them look all to be as hale and hearty as bodybuilders blessed with rugged good looks. They were in actuality thin, underfed, and battling disease.
But for all that, it's a beautiful example of first class journalism from an author who, after the war, would win a Pulitzer for a novel, "A Bell For Adano".
That will be my next Hersey book.
This is only the second work of his I'd ever read. He based it on his war reporting as a journalist assigned to the Marines on Guadalcanal, the first offensive land operation against the Empire of Japan.
What struck me was the quality of Hersey's writing. The introduction alone had me laughing out loud with delight, not because it was funny (it wasn't), but because I was so overjoyed with the prose. The introduction set the stage for the later story, and we learn how Hersey "didn't die" twice before actually getting into range of the Japanese guns. He quickly started to realize his mortality.
Hersey's account covers the advance, and failure, of a Marine company into a valley where the enemy waited, dug in and fully prepared. It's "in the trenches" reporting, and you experience the mortars, the sniping, and the machine gun fire that pinned down and frustrated the Marines.
It's a good book, but slightly romanticizes the Marines with language sanitized for the age and with artwork that makes them look all to be as hale and hearty as bodybuilders blessed with rugged good looks. They were in actuality thin, underfed, and battling disease.
But for all that, it's a beautiful example of first class journalism from an author who, after the war, would win a Pulitzer for a novel, "A Bell For Adano".
That will be my next Hersey book.
April 24, 2024
Excellent
I wrote my thesis on support Marines in WWII and did not know about this book at the time. I wish I did. I'll incorporate this into my research - the book is filled with amazing stories, eyewitness reporting, and the haunting echoes of battle. Hersey has a bird's eye view to a company on the attack and spares no detail. His chummy rapport with the Marines of H Company leads to some rather candid vignettes. I highly recommend this to anyone interested in "I was there" style reporting.
I wrote my thesis on support Marines in WWII and did not know about this book at the time. I wish I did. I'll incorporate this into my research - the book is filled with amazing stories, eyewitness reporting, and the haunting echoes of battle. Hersey has a bird's eye view to a company on the attack and spares no detail. His chummy rapport with the Marines of H Company leads to some rather candid vignettes. I highly recommend this to anyone interested in "I was there" style reporting.
October 16, 2017
World War II Story
This is a very good book. The author is John Hersey, who wrote as a young man about the first battle he was in. His good with action and with his descriptions. Ivan that a boy just getting involved with the war would know much better after reading him what was in store.
This is a very good book. The author is John Hersey, who wrote as a young man about the first battle he was in. His good with action and with his descriptions. Ivan that a boy just getting involved with the war would know much better after reading him what was in store.
January 5, 2018
This is a first person account of a small part of the Guadalcanal effort by a newspaper writer in his first encounter with battle. It is illuminating because he has not been indoctrinated like a marine with whom he is traveling. His observations are intimate and personal. You can smell the fear. It is a good introduction to warfare writing.
January 16, 2019
Read many years ago in my high school years, the copy being my father's. The author was a TIME-LIFE correspondent during World War II who accompanied a unit of Marines into a valley on Guadalcanal in October 1942 and witnessed a skirmish with the Japanese there. Very fine war reporting, it gives the reader a sense of what it was like to have been there.
March 22, 2020
Short book about a small battle in Guadalcanal
I visited the creek and valley where this incident took place when I visited Guadalcanal last year. Vivid portrait of men at war.
I visited the creek and valley where this incident took place when I visited Guadalcanal last year. Vivid portrait of men at war.
December 14, 2024
This is an account of one company of Marines during a small engagement on Guadalcanal October 1942.
March 29, 2012
This is a very interesting and quick read. This reporter's account of one battle in one valley on Guadalcanal, in October 1942, helps illustrate what everyone on that island went through day to day with the very specific details of this one fight.
I read this right after reading Richard Tregaskis's Guadalcanal Diary, which is fitting since Diary ends on September 26, 1942 and Valley starts just a week or two later. I like both books for what they are able to convey about the Guadalcanal campaign, but Hersey's is a little different in that he adds a forward to his own book 46 years after its first publication which gives invaluable insight into his own experience that really makes this book a treasure. This story of the small, no-name battle is itself a valuable addition to the canon of Guadalcanal first-person accounts (it isn't a decisive battle by any means), but it's the forward that enhances everything overall.
Hersey himself provides clarifying information on what we're about to read, letting us know his regret in using such racially denigrating language even though it was de rigueur for the time, telling us he did carry a gun but couldn't say so outright in the book, and commenting on his different outlook on certain things between then and 'now'. He also talks about his use of silly words in place of swear words, which makes me wonder why Tregaskis was able to leave them in (with dashes for the middle letters) rather than replacing them outright like Hersey did.
The battle itself is a tense fight, and you get to meet a captain who is doing his best to lead his men. And the men are portrayed as being only human, slowly being worn down by the elements and fighting their every instinct for self-preservation in the most trying of situations. This a brief but intense account that anyone who is interested in Guadalcanal should read.
n.b.: There's one little tidbit that makes me wonder about Hersey, and it's found in his forward. He recounts a story that he says personally happened to him but, having read Guadalcanal Diary, I found this same story being called a 'yarn' (i.e. a tall tale). Since Hersey's story takes place after Tregaskis's, I can think one of two things happened: either Hersey heard the story when he was on the island and decided to bend the truth and say it happened to him; or the story became such on the island that it was re-enacted for the sake of any journalist passenger. I hope the latter is true because this calls into question what Hersey considers the truth. I don't know if after so much time had passed he mistakenly thinks a story he had heard second or third hand is a personal experience, but it seems to me that that's quite a gaffe to make. Considering both books were published in the same year I find it hard to believe Hersey never read Tregaskis's book. If he had, he would've seen that his personal story predated his arrival. Relevant passages from both books are quoted here so you can decide for yourself:
Guadalcanal Diary by Richard Tregaskis (from entry dated Friday, August 29)
And so the yarning went on, and finally somebody told the classic story about the two marine jeep drivers on Guadalcanal, supposedly a true story, very true, anyhow, in its essential American psychology. It was about two jeeps passing in the night, one with proper dim-out headlights, the other with glaring bright lights. So the driver of the dim-light car leans out as they pass and shouts to the other driver: "Hey! Put your f-----g lights out!" To which the other replies: "I can't. I've got a f-----g colonel with me!"
Into the Valley: A Skirmish of the Marines by John Hersey (from the forward)
After dark, one night, I hitched a ride in a jeep around the perimeter of Henderson Field. The enlisted driver, obeying regulations, was poking along very slowly with his lights out. A jeep came in the opposite direction with headlights blazing. As we passed, my driver shouted to the other one, "Turn your fucking lights out!" The other driver called back, "I can't. I've got the fucking colonel with me."
I read this right after reading Richard Tregaskis's Guadalcanal Diary, which is fitting since Diary ends on September 26, 1942 and Valley starts just a week or two later. I like both books for what they are able to convey about the Guadalcanal campaign, but Hersey's is a little different in that he adds a forward to his own book 46 years after its first publication which gives invaluable insight into his own experience that really makes this book a treasure. This story of the small, no-name battle is itself a valuable addition to the canon of Guadalcanal first-person accounts (it isn't a decisive battle by any means), but it's the forward that enhances everything overall.
Hersey himself provides clarifying information on what we're about to read, letting us know his regret in using such racially denigrating language even though it was de rigueur for the time, telling us he did carry a gun but couldn't say so outright in the book, and commenting on his different outlook on certain things between then and 'now'. He also talks about his use of silly words in place of swear words, which makes me wonder why Tregaskis was able to leave them in (with dashes for the middle letters) rather than replacing them outright like Hersey did.
The battle itself is a tense fight, and you get to meet a captain who is doing his best to lead his men. And the men are portrayed as being only human, slowly being worn down by the elements and fighting their every instinct for self-preservation in the most trying of situations. This a brief but intense account that anyone who is interested in Guadalcanal should read.
n.b.: There's one little tidbit that makes me wonder about Hersey, and it's found in his forward. He recounts a story that he says personally happened to him but, having read Guadalcanal Diary, I found this same story being called a 'yarn' (i.e. a tall tale). Since Hersey's story takes place after Tregaskis's, I can think one of two things happened: either Hersey heard the story when he was on the island and decided to bend the truth and say it happened to him; or the story became such on the island that it was re-enacted for the sake of any journalist passenger. I hope the latter is true because this calls into question what Hersey considers the truth. I don't know if after so much time had passed he mistakenly thinks a story he had heard second or third hand is a personal experience, but it seems to me that that's quite a gaffe to make. Considering both books were published in the same year I find it hard to believe Hersey never read Tregaskis's book. If he had, he would've seen that his personal story predated his arrival. Relevant passages from both books are quoted here so you can decide for yourself:
Guadalcanal Diary by Richard Tregaskis (from entry dated Friday, August 29)
And so the yarning went on, and finally somebody told the classic story about the two marine jeep drivers on Guadalcanal, supposedly a true story, very true, anyhow, in its essential American psychology. It was about two jeeps passing in the night, one with proper dim-out headlights, the other with glaring bright lights. So the driver of the dim-light car leans out as they pass and shouts to the other driver: "Hey! Put your f-----g lights out!" To which the other replies: "I can't. I've got a f-----g colonel with me!"
Into the Valley: A Skirmish of the Marines by John Hersey (from the forward)
After dark, one night, I hitched a ride in a jeep around the perimeter of Henderson Field. The enlisted driver, obeying regulations, was poking along very slowly with his lights out. A jeep came in the opposite direction with headlights blazing. As we passed, my driver shouted to the other one, "Turn your fucking lights out!" The other driver called back, "I can't. I've got the fucking colonel with me."
March 24, 2015
Into the Valley by John Hersey is a reporter's on-the-spot report of a battle which took place on October 8, 1942 on Guadalcanal. Hersey was a correspondent with Time-Life and was attached to Company H of the Marine Corps under the command of Captain Charles Rigaud. The heavy machine gun company was ordered into the valley at the Matanikau River with the goal of forcing the enemy back beyond the river.
As Hersey moves with the company and watches the men under fire, he realizes how much these Marines go through, how many of them deserve citations for their bravery, and how few of them will receive the recognition they deserve--from the runners who carry messages when radio and field telephones won't work to the men who carry the wire spools through the jungle (unable to defend themselves because you can't carry a rifle and a spool at the same time) to the medics who treat and rescue the wounded.
He gets to know the men very quickly in his short time with them and he asks them the one question he truly wants to know. What are they fighting for? When it comes down to it...out there in the unfamiliar jungles, when it seems like your company is the only one doing its job...what are you fighting for? The answer surprises him until he recognizes it for what it is:
They did not answer for a long time.
Then one of them spoke, but not to me...and for a second I thought he was changing the subject or making fun of me, but of course he was not. He was answering my question very specifically.
He whispered: "Jesus, what I'd give for a piece of blueberry pie." Another whispered: "Personally I prefer mince." A third whispered: "Make mine apple with a few raisins in it and lots of cinnamon: you know, Southern style."
Fighting for pie. Of course that is not exactly what they meant. Here, in a place where they lived for several weeks mostly on captured Japanese rice, then finally had gone on to such delicacies as canned corned beef and Navy beans, where they were usually hungry and never given a treat--here pie was their symbol of home.
Hersey's book is a fine piece of war reporting. He gives us the feel of battle with all the sights and sounds, with all the fears and acts of bravery. We see the men digging shallow grave-like holes to bed down in at night, fording streams, and carrying their fallen comrades from the field of battle. We hear the underlying homesickness and worry that they might not see that home again--but we also see the courage that drives their Captain to make them hold their ground until they can retreat in good order. An interesting peek into the history of World War II. ★★★ and a half, actually.
First posted on my blog My Reader's Block. Please request permission before reposting. Thanks.
As Hersey moves with the company and watches the men under fire, he realizes how much these Marines go through, how many of them deserve citations for their bravery, and how few of them will receive the recognition they deserve--from the runners who carry messages when radio and field telephones won't work to the men who carry the wire spools through the jungle (unable to defend themselves because you can't carry a rifle and a spool at the same time) to the medics who treat and rescue the wounded.
He gets to know the men very quickly in his short time with them and he asks them the one question he truly wants to know. What are they fighting for? When it comes down to it...out there in the unfamiliar jungles, when it seems like your company is the only one doing its job...what are you fighting for? The answer surprises him until he recognizes it for what it is:
They did not answer for a long time.
Then one of them spoke, but not to me...and for a second I thought he was changing the subject or making fun of me, but of course he was not. He was answering my question very specifically.
He whispered: "Jesus, what I'd give for a piece of blueberry pie." Another whispered: "Personally I prefer mince." A third whispered: "Make mine apple with a few raisins in it and lots of cinnamon: you know, Southern style."
Fighting for pie. Of course that is not exactly what they meant. Here, in a place where they lived for several weeks mostly on captured Japanese rice, then finally had gone on to such delicacies as canned corned beef and Navy beans, where they were usually hungry and never given a treat--here pie was their symbol of home.
Hersey's book is a fine piece of war reporting. He gives us the feel of battle with all the sights and sounds, with all the fears and acts of bravery. We see the men digging shallow grave-like holes to bed down in at night, fording streams, and carrying their fallen comrades from the field of battle. We hear the underlying homesickness and worry that they might not see that home again--but we also see the courage that drives their Captain to make them hold their ground until they can retreat in good order. An interesting peek into the history of World War II. ★★★ and a half, actually.
First posted on my blog My Reader's Block. Please request permission before reposting. Thanks.
April 28, 2011
Well, I now know the meaning of "military crest" and "approach fire." This was a very short book, 136 pages. Hersey attached himself to a machinegun company as it descended into a valley and attempted to cross a river as part of a wider attack. The hike down was uneventful, but as they approached the river, the company came under rifle and machinegun fire. As they attempted to bring forward and set up their own machineguns to return fire, they came under mortar fire, suffered casualties and were forced to retreat.
That's the bare bones of the story. One day in war that happened a long time ago. It's hard to understand what it was all about, that the nation that today is the home of Hello Kitty terminal cuteness was a frightening, capable and cruel enemy in those days.
The bulk of the book describes the retreat back up out of the valley, as experienced by Hersey and the group of wounded he helped. I was interested to see described what are clearly traumatic brain injuries caused by overpressure created by the mortar explosions. It seems a source of wonder to Hersey that men can be severely injured yet do not visibly bleed or even show signs of wounds. He's not stupid, it's just something that hadn't occurred to him.
Hersey describes a complete episode where a machinegun crew does set up their weapon and duels with an enemy machinegun, loses and retreats, abandoning their gun. Then one man goes back to retrieve it, but as he is doing so, the position is mortared, he seems to be killed and the rest of the gun crew flees. After the men regain the high ground, a team is sent to recover his body. They discover he is alive, though gravely wounded, and make a harrowing effort to save his life and get him to safety. But he dies.
This is not a book I would ever have read--even heard of--except for the recommendation of a friend. But I'm glad for the recommendation and to have read it. It's very matter of fact. There's no rah-rah stuff. It doesn't even mention that the fight the company was in, the Third Battle of the Matanikau River, was actually a victory for us, with the Japanese soundly defeated and forced to retreat. I had to turn to Wikipedia to discover that. It's just what it was like to tag along with some guys on a hike down a canyon, as we westerners would say, alongside a little stream that merges with a bigger stream, and at that juncture a bunch of other guys are hiding, armed with brutal weapons, waiting to kill you. Which they try do. And you get out of there.
That's the bare bones of the story. One day in war that happened a long time ago. It's hard to understand what it was all about, that the nation that today is the home of Hello Kitty terminal cuteness was a frightening, capable and cruel enemy in those days.
The bulk of the book describes the retreat back up out of the valley, as experienced by Hersey and the group of wounded he helped. I was interested to see described what are clearly traumatic brain injuries caused by overpressure created by the mortar explosions. It seems a source of wonder to Hersey that men can be severely injured yet do not visibly bleed or even show signs of wounds. He's not stupid, it's just something that hadn't occurred to him.
Hersey describes a complete episode where a machinegun crew does set up their weapon and duels with an enemy machinegun, loses and retreats, abandoning their gun. Then one man goes back to retrieve it, but as he is doing so, the position is mortared, he seems to be killed and the rest of the gun crew flees. After the men regain the high ground, a team is sent to recover his body. They discover he is alive, though gravely wounded, and make a harrowing effort to save his life and get him to safety. But he dies.
This is not a book I would ever have read--even heard of--except for the recommendation of a friend. But I'm glad for the recommendation and to have read it. It's very matter of fact. There's no rah-rah stuff. It doesn't even mention that the fight the company was in, the Third Battle of the Matanikau River, was actually a victory for us, with the Japanese soundly defeated and forced to retreat. I had to turn to Wikipedia to discover that. It's just what it was like to tag along with some guys on a hike down a canyon, as we westerners would say, alongside a little stream that merges with a bigger stream, and at that juncture a bunch of other guys are hiding, armed with brutal weapons, waiting to kill you. Which they try do. And you get out of there.
June 4, 2019
Hersey's second book, compiled form first hand experience in the South Pacific campaign as a reporter for Time Magazine. Excellent first-hand account of jungle warfare as presented in the fiction of James Jones: The Thin Red Line and Norman Mailer's The Naked and the Dead. Hersey was commended for his heroism under fire for his assisting the wounded after a disastrous rout by Japanese troops.
Into the Valley: Marines at Guadalcanal
Into the Valley: Marines at Guadalcanal
April 7, 2021
Hersey became famous for his description of Hiroshima after the bomb. This was written three years before that. He follows a company on patrol in the jungles of Guadalcanal. Realistic and well written. You can feel the sweat rolling down the backs of these young Marines as they embark on jungle patrols.
December 28, 2008
A short story of a company of Marines fighting on Guadalcanal. Hersey is a voluteer combat correspondant, and he captures the ferocity of the fight and the dedication of the Marines to each other on the 'canal back in summer 1942. S/F!
April 9, 2014
A very quick enjoyable piece written during the war. Not military history per we (no maps, no orders of battle, no high-ranking officer pontificating - just a clear and honest description of men in combat.
October 1, 2015
Very brief book based on 1942 magazine story for LIFE magazine. Includes a 15-page retrospective introduction from 1989. Very moving, indicative of suffering and sacrifice. The edition I read was just 90 pages; not sure of the publisher/edition.
October 14, 2022
My second book in a row that was first hand reporting from Guadalcanal. Not quite as long or developed as Guadalcanal Diary, but still worthwhile. You get Hersey's feel for what it was like to be in the hot green humid denseness of the jungle fighting the Japanese.
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