They Sent 40 ‘Criminals’ to Fight 30,000 Japanese — What Happened Next Created Navy SEALs

 

June 15th, 1944. 8:44 a.m. First Lieutenant Frank Tachki crouched in a Higgins boat 300 yd from Saipan. S beaches as Japanese artillery turned the surf into a killing zone. The 29-year-old Marine officer from Pennsylvania commanded 40 men behind him. Every single one pulled from the brig.

 Every single one given a choice, military prison or combat duty. They chose combat. Intelligence estimated 30,000 Japanese troops defending the island. Marine Corps planners calculated scout sniper casualties at 73%. Three out of four men wouldn’t survive. But Tachki hadn’t recruited men who followed odds. He’d recruited men who broke them.

7 months earlier, after the blood soaked hell of Terawa, Colonel James Rizley had made a radical proposal. The Marine Corps needed something different. Not riflemen, not assault troops, silent killers who could survive alone behind enemy lines. Men who thought for themselves, who ignored rules, who fought dirty.

 He found them in punishment details. Tachki’s recruiting criteria was brutal in its simplicity. When two Marines got into a fight, the winner went to the brig while the loser went to the infirmary. Tachki wanted the winner. The Marine Corps called such men troublemakers. Tachki called them survivors.

 Over two months at Camp Terawa, he assembled 42 Marines from various punishment details. The youngest was  17. The oldest was 34. Most had criminal records before  joining. One had been a professional boxer. Another had worked as a bodyguard for a Chicago gangster. Training focused on skills the regular Marine Corps didn’t teach.

 Silent killing with knives and bare hands.  How to approach a sentry from behind and break his neck without making sound. how to move  through jungle without disturbing vegetation. How to read Japanese maps. How to call in naval gunfire. They practiced with M193 Springfield rifles fitted with eight power scopes, 600y shots, man-sized targets.

 They trained with bazookas to destroy tanks and fortified positions. They studied Japanese tactics, learning where the enemy positioned troops and how they defended islands. They also learned to steal. The Marine Corps was the poorest equipped branch of the American military. Marines received surplus World War I weapons, outdated equipment, inadequate rations.

 To survive, they stole from better supplied army and navy units. Tachki’s men excelled at theft. They raided army supply depots for food, navy warehouses for equipment, even stole jeeps and trucks. Other marines in the sixth regiment nicknamed them the 40 thieves. The name stuck. By June 1944, they had completed training.

 They knew how to fight, hide, and kill without making noise. They had memorized Japanese fortification patterns and studied aerial photographs of Saipan. They understood their mission. Land with the first assault wave, push inland ahead of the main force, locate Japanese positions, radio coordinates back to artillery and naval gunfire units, then disappear into the jungle for days at a time. No support, no rescue if captured.

Saipan was different from every previous Pacific island invasion. This was Japanese territory, not occupied land, part of Japan itself. The enemy would defend it with suicidal determination. The garrison included 30,000 Imperial Army and Navy troops, plus thousands of armed civilians.

 The island measured 14 mi long and 5 mi wide. Mount Tabucho rose 1500 ft in the center,  providing observation posts overlooking every beach. The Japanese had built  concrete pill boxes, interconnected trenches, underground bunkers throughout the island. They’d registered  every beach and valley for artillery and mortar fire.

 American casualties were expected to exceed 50%. The Higgins boats ramp dropped  into chestde water. Tachki led his men forward through the surf as machine gun fire kicked up spray around them. They reached the beach at 8:47 a.m. Japanese mortar began landing among the assault waves. Men died in the surf in the sand at the seaw wall.

 Tachki’s platoon moved inland fast. Their orders were simple. Keep moving. Find the Japanese. Radio their positions. Stay alive. By 9:30 a.m., they’d pushed 300 yd inland, farther than any other marine unit on the beach. They found themselves alone in enemy territory with 30,000 Japanese soldiers somewhere in the jungle ahead. Night would fall in 9 hours.

 That’s when their real mission would begin. The 40 thieves moved through dense jungle growth 50 yards apart, maintaining visual contact through hand signals. At 10:15 a.m., Sergeant Bill Koop spotted the first Japanese position. A concrete pillbox built into a ridge with interlocking fields of fire covering the valley below where the second marine division would advance that afternoon.

The pillbox housed a Type 92 heavy machine gun with a crew of seven. The Japanese had camouflaged it with vegetation and positioned it to remain invisible from the beach. Marine assault units advancing through the valley would walk directly into the kill zone. Taking out the position would save dozens, possibly hundreds of Marine lives.

 But attacking it would reveal the 40 thieves position and compromise their reconnaissance mission. Tachki made the decision in 30 seconds. Private Marvin Strombo positioned himself 80 yard from the pillbox while the rest of the platoon provided security. At 10:32 a.m., Strombo fired one bazooka round. The rocket hit the pillboxes, firing slit and  detonated inside.

 The explosion killed the entire Japanese crew instantly. Before the smoke cleared,  Tachki’s platoon had already moved 300 yd deeper into the jungle. They left no trace except the destroyed pillbox. By noon, the 40 thieves had identified and mapped 17 Japanese positions, eight machine gun nests, four mortar pits, three artillery observation posts, two ammunition storage areas.

 Tachki radioed the coordinates  back to regimental headquarters. Within 20 minutes, naval gunfire from destroyers offshore began hitting  the targets. The 40 thieves washed from concealed positions as 5-in shells demolished Japanese fortifications they demarked 30 minutes earlier. This was their mission. Find the enemy. Mark them for destruction.

Move on before the Japanese realized what was happening. At 3:40 p.m., the platoon discovered something unexpected. A Japanese tank battalion staging area. 37 Type 97 medium tanks sat under camouflage netting in a grove north of Karan Canoa. Marine intelligence had estimated the Japanese possessed maybe a dozen tanks on Saipan.

 The 40 thieves had just found three times that number in one location. Those tanks represented the most serious threat to the American beach head. Japanese doctrine called for mass tank attacks  at night when American naval gunfire would be less effective. If these 37 tanks attacked the beach after dark, they could potentially break through marine lines and reach vulnerable supply areas.

Tachki immediately radioed the coordinates. The response from headquarters came back within 8 minutes. Naval gunfire was already engaged, supporting marine units pinned down near the beach. Air strikes were committed to  other targets. Artillery was still being unloaded from ships. No assets were available to hit the tank battalion for at least 4 hours.

 By then, it would be dark and  the tanks would likely have moved. Tachki looked at the 37 tanks and made a calculation. His platoon carried six bazookas, six rounds per bazooka. 36 rockets total, 37 tanks. The math was almost perfect. The decision violated every tactical principle the Marine Corps taught. A 40-man unit does not attack a  tank battalion, but Tachki hadn’t recruited Marines who followed principles.

 He’d recruited men who fought dirty and survived. At 4:15 p.m., he gave the order to prepare  for assault. Then something changed. The Japanese tanks started their engines. 37 diesel engines roaring to life simultaneously. Japanese tank crews  emerged from camouflage dugouts and climbed onto their vehicles. Officers shouted orders.

 Infantry units began forming  up around the tanks. This wasn’t a repositioning movement. This was preparation for attack. The window for a surprise attack had closed. Tachki made a new decision. His platoon would shadow the tank battalion and report its movements. Attacking now would accomplish nothing except getting his men killed.

  But tracking the tanks and providing real-time coordinates would allow marine units at the beach to prepare defenses. The tank battalion began moving at 50:07 p.m. They advanced in two columns along parallel routes toward the coast. Japanese infantry moved alongside approximately 1,000 soldiers total. The 40 thieves followed the enemy formation, staying 200 yd to the flank.

 Every 10 minutes, Tachki radioed updated coordinates. Marine units at the beach began repositioning. Bazookas were distributed. Sherman tanks moved forward. Artillery batteries adjusted aim points. At 6:15 p.m., approximately 1 mile from the beach. The Japanese formation halted. Officers gathered. Tachki observed through binoculars from 300 yd away.

 The Japanese were arguing about something. The conference lasted 11 minutes. Finally, the formation changed direction. Instead of continuing toward the beach, the tanks turned north. By 7:05 p.m., as the sun touched the horizon, Tatsky understood their plan. The Japanese weren’t attacking the main beach head.

 They were targeting the gap between the second and fourth Marine divisions. A successful breakthrough would split American forces in half. At 7:23 p.m., the Japanese attack began. Marine defensive positions erupted with bazooka fire. The first three Japanese tanks exploded in flames, but 34 more kept coming.

 Then Tachki saw something that changed everything. One Japanese tank had separated from the main formation and was heading directly toward the sixth marine regiment SCO command post where Colonel Grizzly  was coordinating the entire divisional response. If that tank reached the command post, it could destroy radio equipment, kill senior officers,  and paralyze the entire regimental response.

 Tachki had maybe 3 minutes to act. He grabbed Private Herbert Hayes, the best bazooka shooter in the platoon. They moved down the slope at a dead run, racing to intercept the tank. Hayes dropped prone and  aimed. The tank emerged from a ravine. Its turret was rotating, searching for targets. The commander stood in the open hatch, scanning the darkness with binoculars. Hayes waited.

A moving tank was harder to hit. He needed the perfect moment. The tank stopped. The commander was checking his map. Hayes fired at 7:32 p.m. The rocket hit the tank’s left side just below the turret ring, exactly where the armor was thinnest. The shaped charge penetrated and detonated inside the crew compartment.

 The explosion killed all four crew members instantly. The tank’s ammunition cooked off 6 seconds later, and the entire vehicle erupted in flames. The fireball lit up the jungle for 300 yd. Japanese infantry advancing nearby saw the explosion and assumed they’d encountered a major marine defensive position. They redirected their assault away from the command post.

 Tachki’s bazooka shot had accomplished more than destroying one tank. It had inadvertently misdirected an entire Japanese infantry battalion away from the most vulnerable point in marine  defenses, but the bazooka’s muzzle flash had revealed their position. Enemy machine gun fire began raking the area. Mortar rounds started falling.

 The platoon had to withdraw immediately or risk being overrun. The withdrawal through jungle and darkness while under fire tested everything the 40 thieves had trained for. The platoon split into small teams, moving independently toward predetermined rally points. Japanese patrols were everywhere. By 9:00 p.m., approximately half the 40 thieves had reached  the primary rally point.

Tachki counted 23 men. 17 were still missing. The group moved toward friendly positions. They crossed into friendly territory at 9:41  p.m. 23 men had made it back. 17 were still out there somewhere in the dark. Tachki assembled search teams at First Light. They found  the first body at 7:05 a.m.

 Private Donald Evans had been shot twice in the chest. The second team found three  more bodies at 8:20 a.m. These Marines had been captured alive, then executed. Their hands were tied behind their backs. They’d been bayonetted. By day end, the count was complete. Six men killed, three missing, presumed dead.

 That represented a 22% casualty rate in their first 48 hours.  Despite the losses, the platoon had accomplished its mission. They had identified over 200 Japanese positions, called in coordinates that destroyed dozens of enemy fortifications, prevented a tank from reaching the regimental command post, and provided critical intelligence on enemy movements.

 Over the next 3 weeks, the 40 thieves continued similar missions. They mapped enemy positions throughout Sapen’s interior, called in artillery strikes, ambushed Japanese patrols, and provided intelligence that saved countless Marine lives. On June 17th, they discovered a massive cave system containing at least six Japanese artillery pieces connected by tunnels.

Corporal Rosco Mullins and Private Strombo volunteered to enter the caves and  map the system. They moved through darkness, hearing Japanese voices echoing from deeper in the tunnels. They found the first artillery piece 30 ft inside, a type 91 105 mm howitzer with ammunition stored in recesses carved into the rock walls.

They discovered two more guns, plus a command post, an ammunition magazine containing approximately 2,000 rounds, and sleeping quarters for at least 60 soldiers. At one point, a dozen Japanese soldiers walked past within 3 ft of their hiding position without detecting them.

 The most audacious mission came on June 17th when five Marines entered the town of Gerapon in broad daylight. Japanese soldiers were everywhere. The Marines counted at least  200 enemy troops visible in the town center. Then, Corporal  Kran spotted five bicycles leaning against a partially destroyed building. An idea formed immediately.

 Five bicycles, five marines. They could conduct reconnaissance while riding  through town like Japanese soldiers moving between positions. For 43 minutes, the 40 thieves rode through the enemy capital, mapping positions, counting troops, identifying supply dumps. They passed within yards of Japanese officers  who never suspected the Americans riding bicycles were enemy reconnaissance.

 By July 9th, when Saipan was declared secure, the 40 thieves had lost 12 men killed and nine wounded. That represented a 56% casualty rate, below the 73% average for scout sniper units, but still devastating. Marine commanders estimated the 40 thieves reconnaissance work had reduced overall marine casualties by at least 15%, potentially saving 2,000 lives.

Frank Tachky returned to civilian life and became mayor of Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin. He never spoke about the war. His son, Joseph, only learned about the 40 thieves after finding his father soot Locker following his death in 2011. The story of the platoon that changed Marine Corps tactics remained largely unknown for 66 years.

 The scout sniper platoon of the sixth marine regiment was one of the first elite special operations units in American military history. Their tactics of deep reconnaissance,  silent killing, and independent operations behind enemy lines would influence the development of modern special forces units, including Navy SEALs and Marine Force reconnaissance.

They proved that small, highly trained units could accomplish missions that entire battalions could not. 40 men recruited from Briggs, and punishment details became one of the most effective. combat units in the Pacific War. The Marines, who called them criminals,  were wrong.