Operation Chromite

Early last week in Tokyo, General Douglas MacArthur summoned a handful of newsmen who had been with him in World War II's campaigns. Among them was LIFE Photographer-Correspondent Carl Mydans, a veteran of Japanese prison camps in China and the Philippines. Mydans' report:

THE general greeted us with: "I'm going on a little operation, and I'd like to have you boys with me if you'd like to go. I say a little operation--it's a big operation. You will leave Haneda [the airport between Tokyo and Yokohama] at 6:30 Wednesday morning. I've got a new plane," he continued, "and I'll follow you in that." Then, pointing his black pipe at us, he said with his quiet laugh: "But you bums will go in my old plane, the Bataan."

The Bataan, followed by MacArthur's new C-54, named Scap, flew on Wednesday to Itazuke on Kyushu Island. There a motor vehicle convoy picked up the general's party and carried us 86 miles to the naval base at Sasebo.

MacArthur had intended to fly into Fukuoka and there board his ship. The sudden change of plans because of a typhoon gave the general his first long ride overland in Japan since his arrival more than five years ago. One of the strangest facts about this great and strange man is that he has seen almost nothing of the country under his rule. His travels have been largely limited to occasional drives between Tokyo and the Haneda airbase eight miles away.

Briefing. At Sasebo, we waited 2 1/2 hours for MacArthur's command ship; typhoon seas had delayed it. As soon as it docked we put to sea. Next day MacArthur invited the correspondents to the cabin of the task force commander, Rear Admiral James Doyle. The general seemed somewhat worn by the buffeting the ship was taking from the rough waters. In a low voice he explained the strategy behind the coming operation.

"The history of war," he said, "proves that nine times out of ten an army has been destroyed because its supply lines have been cut off. That's what we are trying to do.

"Everything the enemy shoots, and all the additional replenishment he needs, have to come down through Seoul. We are going to try to seize that distributing area, so that it will be impossible for the North Koreans to get any additional men or more than a trickle of supplies into the present combat area."

Between the U.N. anvil at Seoul and the U.N. hammer at Pusan the bulk of the enemy's strength would be pounded. "By employing [our] two great advantages," predicted MacArthur, "we are going to wrest the ground initiative from him . . . If that can be accomplished, these [Communist] forces will sooner or later disintegrate . . ."

Hazards. Technically, at least, the landing would be the toughest MacArthur had ever attempted. Inchon's tide, said Admiral Doyle, is one of the world's greatest. The highwater mark comes only three days each month, and the Inchon basin can be worked only at the crest of the tide. This would give the landing force but four to eight hours out of 24 for movements of men and supplies.

It was clear that within Inchon Bay the U.N. assault craft would be sitting ducks, held in a narrow channel with no room to move about or dodge attack. Larger craft would have to lay out some seven miles. LCVPs and LCMs would need 90 minutes to make the run from mother ships to beach with troops and equipment.

"Inchon is the worst possible place we could bring in an amphibious assault along the coast of Korea," admitted Admiral Doyle, "but it is also the only possible place where our assault will carry out its purpose: to land, cut off and destroy the enemy."

Landing Party. On landing day last week, in the dawn's early light, MacArthur picked his way through a confusion of men in helmets and life jackets, climbed onto the admiral's bridge chair. He wore his old braided, sweat-stained garrison cap.

We were then some 1,500 yards off the Inchon coast. The nose of our craft was pointed at a flashing coastal light. Said Admiral Doyle to the CINC: "They've left their navigation lights on. That's the fourth we've picked up on the way in here this morning." Said MacArthur: "That's courtesy." As the Asiatic sunrise broke over the black, sawtooth hills of the Korean coast, the general grasped both arms of his chair. "Just like Lingayen Gulf," he observed. "But quieter and nicer, isn't it?"

Then the naval bombardment began, and he raised his glasses to watch. The planes came. We could see the streaks of their rockets, and minutes later hear the booms. General Almond, the new X Corps commander, came up. "Good morning, General," he said. "How are you?" "I don't see how I could be better," answered MacArthur.

When the ship's speaker announced: "The first wave of the attack force is ashore," MacArthur nodded to Doyle. Then the speaker called: "All boats are ashore from the first and second waves. The troops are fanning out rapidly. No casualties so far." MacArthur lowered his head a little, and then a broad grin spread across his face. The night before, he had said we would not take more than 100 casualties on the morning objectives. Now all waves were ashore, with only 15 casualties reported.

When the speaker announced: "The American flag is flying on the heights of Wolmi Island," MacArthur stood up, looked around with a smile. Admiral Doyle said: "Let's go below and get some coffee." The CINC, who, at 70, had conceived an operation with the daring, aggressiveness and imagination of a young officer, walked off the bridge.

A bit later the command ship's radio sent off the old fighter's message: "The Navy and Marines have never shone more brightly than this morning. MacArthur."

Shore Party. Next day the general went ashore. On a ridgetop near Kimpo airfield he pulled on his corncob pipe and talked about bygone battles in the Philippines. To Vice Admiral Arthur Struble he said: "I've lived a long time and played with the Navy for a long time. They've never, never failed me." Then he drove back to the waterfront.

On Admiral Struble's barge, heading for the command ship, MacArthur stood up for one more look at the busy scene of war: LCVPs bringing troops ashore, jeeps and trucks moving along the coastal road. Turning to his fellow commanders, he said, "Well done." Then he sat down, took off his gloves and stretched his legs.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.