The activity on Guadalcanal did not go unnoticed. Air reconnaissance, analysis of Japanese radio traffic, and the reports of civilian coastwatchers organized by the Australian navy all confirmed that an airfield was being developed on Guadalcanal. American naval planners, who wanted to capitalize on the momentum of Midway, were already devising a more aggressive effort in the South Pacific than prewar plans had envisaged. The new intelligence about Japanese activity in the Solomons convinced the planners to invade Guadalcanal as soon as possible.
Soon after his arrival on July 25 at the major Japanese base at Truk on his way to Rabaul to assume command of the newly organized Outer South Seas Force, Vice Admiral Gunichi Mikawa quizzed naval staffers about the prospects of an Allied attack on Guadalcanal. He was reassured that this could not happen. The staffers were, of course, very wrong. And Mikawa would not have long to wait for his fears to be realized. B-17s from the island of Espíritu Santo began regular bombing raids on July 31, and increased radio activity suggested to Japanese intelligence that the Americans were planning something against Guadalcanal. With stunning speed, American planners had pulled together Operation "Watchtower," and a flotilla of transports containing the 1st Marine Division steamed from New Zealand undetected. A strong naval escort that included three of the four American aircraft carriers in the Pacific offered protection.
The Japanese on Guadalcanal were dumbfounded to see a large Allied fleet offshore on the morning of August 7. At first, the landings at Lunga Point went so smoothly that the Marines reported the whole operation seemed like a "peace-time drill." The troops moved inland unopposed through a coconut plantation, but their advance slowed as cautious Marines encountered the Guadalcanal jungle for the first time. It would prove to be almost as formidable an opponent as the Japanese. Forced to navigate by compass through thick jungle and across a winding stream, the Leathernecks were soon behind schedule. Other units moved slowly along the beach from the landing zone in disorganized fashion. Back at the beachhead the scene was one of chaos. Supplies piled up on the beach, which became so littered that follow-on landing craft could not off-load their cargoes. The Marine shore party was too small to accommodate the volume of traffic streaming from the transports. This was the first American amphibious assault of the war in the Pacific, and the efficiency of subsequent operations was not present. Nevertheless, on the second day of the operation, the Marines captured the deserted airstrip. The Japanese offered almost no resistance save for ineffective air attacks on the American transports.2 Any celebration, however, was definitely premature.
In the early morning hours of August 9, the U.S. Navy suffered one of its most galling defeats ever. Using effective nighttime tactics that took advantage of vastly superior Japanese long-range torpedoes, Admiral Mikawa led a strike force of cruisers and destroyers against a stronger Allied naval force near Savo Island off the northwest tip of Guadalcanal. When it was all over, the Allies had lost four heavy cruisers (three American, one Australian) and a destroyer. Fearing counterattack from carrier-based American aircraft, the Japanese commander retreated, losing only one destroyer on the way back to Rabaul.






