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This Is Guadalcanal: The Original Combat Photography, by L. Douglas Keeney and William S. Butler, William Morrow, New York, $15.

At the outset of the Guadalcanal campaign, it did not seem destined to become a celebrated operation. U.S. Marines landed on the island on August 7, 1942, and seized a small airfield, which they renamed Henderson. Infuriated by the success of the invasion, the Japanese tried to oust the small American force from its toehold by launching massive night attacks and conducting drawn-out battles of attrition. Along with the slugging match in the tropical jungles and swamps on the island, the Japanese and American fleets struggled for superiority in the straits and seas around Guadalcanal. The air was continuously alive with dogfights–a steady stream of fighters rose from Henderson Field to meet the enemy. To the contenders, Guadalcanal soon came to represent far more than just a tiny island in the Pacific.

While there have been many accounts of the fighting for Guadalcanal, few photographs were formerly available in a single book. This Is Guadalcanal: The Original Combat Photography contains the official photos of the campaign and provides just enough inspired text to explain the battle.

Conceived to accompany the film The Thin Red Line, the book offers readers a glimpse of the realities of jungle and naval combat. In some photos, camouflaged troops are difficult to discern from the surrounding jungle. Many photos show Marines stripped to the waist, unshaven, with hair much longer than regulation. Their faces are grim and determined. The primitive atmosphere eclipses everything. From the looming palm trees to the earthen airstrip, the jungle dominates the scene.

The U.S. Marines set up their perimeters near Henderson shortly after capturing the airfield. When the Japanese launched human wave attacks, the Americans–relying mostly on old, water-cooled machine guns–mowed them down like duckpins. Vital to the Marine defense was barbed wire, which slowed down the Japanese so that the machine guns could do their work.

The jungle environment also proved deadly. Malaria left men delirious, and jungle rot afflicted their bodies, incapacitating Japanese and Americans alike.

Meanwhile, on the sea, both sides fought to reinforce their beleaguered troops. The Japanese ran transports down “the Slot,” a narrow sea lane through the Solomon chain, while the U.S. Navy landed additional troops and supplies whenever and wherever it could. Superior night-fighting skills gave the Japanese the initial advantage. During the battles of the Eastern Solomons, Santa Cruz and Tassafaronga, however, the Americans began to edge out the Japanese in plane-to-plane kill ratios and ship tonnage sunk. None of the naval engagements was an overwhelming victory like the battles of the Philippine Sea or Leyte Gulf. They were evenly matched fights, with few knockout punches.

Henderson Field proved the focal point of the campaign. When Japanese troops were not assaulting the airfield, the Japanese navy was shelling it. In one attack they reduced the airfield’s communications center to a pile of splinters. Still, American engineers managed to keep the field operational.

The photos of the naval combat included in This Is Guadalcanal are compelling. Along with aerial shots of ships desperately maneuvering to avoid bombs from American Boeing B-17 Flying Fortresses, dramatic stills show attacks on the aircraft carrier USS Hornet and the sinking of the carrier Wasp. One photo shows a Douglas SBD-3 Dauntless dive bomber hanging precariously over the side of the carrier USS Enterprise after the ship was jolted by an explosion.

The text, aside from the introduction, simulates raw combat reporting compiled from American after-action reports and captured Japanese military documents, with little editorializing.

This Is Guadalcanal is an entertaining book and a great idea, especially since so few of the photos included have ever before been showcased together in one volume.

Kevin M. Hymel