The Remains of an Angry Battlefield.
The term 100 mile per hour fog is an apt one for the Aleutian Williwaw. Its icy bite sought out every tiny area of exposed skin and turned my face raw. The simple task of tying my bootlace with frozen fingers became an exasperating chore. Conversation was kept to one and two word grumbles shouted over the relentless roar of the hurricane force wind that regularly scours Kiska Island in the western Aleutians. This was the barren and windswept edge of Lawson Ridge. At 1,840 feet it is the second highest peak on Kiska Island after the not so dormant Kiska Volcano, the most northerly and most prominent point of the island. I had hitched a stint as a research assistant to a biologist studying the decline of seabirds within the distant western Aleutians. However, my own interest was in the brief Second World War occupation of Kiska by Japanese forces. Five hundred Imperial Japanese Navy troops of Captain Ono Takeji’s Naval Landing Force came ashore in the small hours of June 6-7, 1942. In the following weeks and months the Japanese established a garrison of 7,500 troops replete with an anchorage for large warships, a submarine base and a seaplane base.
The enemy held Kiska for thirteen months, enduring shelling by American warships and heavy attacks by American and Canadian warplanes. In a feat of brilliance, the Japanese withdrew the entire Kiska garrison in a matter of hours while U.S. Navy ships had withdrawn to rearm and refuel. Allied troops reoccupied Kiska two weeks later only to find the enemy had vanished. The Japanese had withdrawn but left behind guns, tunnels, infrastructure and personal items. This outdoor gallery of Japanese artifacts was my pursuit for getting to Kiska.
We set up camp at Gertrude Cove where the Imperial Army had established a base for 1,800 army troops. Each to our own tent and an 8 x 10 tarp shelter for cooking and radio, this was our home for 51 long Aleutian days. We also had a second, spike camp about 6 miles north near the harbor to save on the amount of walking required to and from sites.
While Kiska is most widely known for this brief brush with World War II, the island’s rugged topography reveals a stark beauty. Here on Kiska there is no urban grime to foul the air. Rather, driving sleet turns to blissful sunshine exposing an endless blue vista on the vast Bering Sea. Bomb craters that pounded the enemy and scooped out massive water filled divots of Aleutian muskeg are now home to waterfowl and trout. Trolius Asiaticus – a yellow globe flower, is found only on Kiska in all of the Aleutians and rumored to have been brought to the island by wistful Japanese troops longing for home. These photos reveal two sides to the island – the angry battlefield and Kiska – gentle arctic garden.
The Remains of an Angry Battlefield.
The term 100 mile per hour fog is an apt one for the Aleutian Williwaw. Its icy bite sought out every tiny area of exposed skin and turned my face raw. The simple task of tying my bootlace with frozen fingers became an exasperating chore. Conversation was kept to one and two word grumbles shouted over the relentless roar of the hurricane force wind that regularly scours Kiska Island in the western Aleutians. This was the barren and windswept edge of Lawson Ridge. At 1,840 feet it is the second highest peak on Kiska Island after the not so dormant Kiska Volcano, the most northerly and most prominent point of the island. I had hitched a stint as a research assistant to a biologist studying the decline of seabirds within the distant western Aleutians. However, my own interest was in the brief Second World War occupation of Kiska by Japanese forces. Five hundred Imperial Japanese Navy troops of Captain Ono Takeji’s Naval Landing Force came ashore in the small hours of June 6-7, 1942. In the following weeks and months the Japanese established a garrison of 7,500 troops replete with an anchorage for large warships, a submarine base and a seaplane base.
The enemy held Kiska for thirteen months, enduring shelling by American warships and heavy attacks by American and Canadian warplanes. In a feat of brilliance, the Japanese withdrew the entire Kiska garrison in a matter of hours while U.S. Navy ships had withdrawn to rearm and refuel. Allied troops reoccupied Kiska two weeks later only to find the enemy had vanished. The Japanese had withdrawn but left behind guns, tunnels, infrastructure and personal items. This outdoor gallery of Japanese artifacts was my pursuit for getting to Kiska.
We set up camp at Gertrude Cove where the Imperial Army had established a base for 1,800 army troops. Each to our own tent and an 8 x 10 tarp shelter for cooking and radio, this was our home for 51 long Aleutian days. We also had a second, spike camp about 6 miles north near the harbor to save on the amount of walking required to and from sites.
While Kiska is most widely known for this brief brush with World War II, the island’s rugged topography reveals a stark beauty. Here on Kiska there is no urban grime to foul the air. Rather, driving sleet turns to blissful sunshine exposing an endless blue vista on the vast Bering Sea. Bomb craters that pounded the enemy and scooped out massive water filled divots of Aleutian muskeg are now home to waterfowl and trout. Trolius Asiaticus – a yellow globe flower, is found only on Kiska in all of the Aleutians and rumored to have been brought to the island by wistful Japanese troops longing for home. These photos reveal two sides to the island – the angry battlefield and Kiska – gentle arctic garden.
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Brendan Coyle has worked his way through the marine industry from deckhand to shipyard project management. His fascination with maritime history led him to discover two historically significant West Coast shipwrecks. He lives in Richmond, British Columbia.
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