World War II Relics: Exploring Guadalcanal's Battle Sites from Honiara

Before setting foot on any battle site, I spent my first day at the excellent Solomon Islands National Museum in Honiara. For 20 Solomon Island Dollars (about £2), this modest museum offers crucial context through its collection of wartime photographs, weapons, and personal effects from both American and Japanese forces.

The Battle of Guadalcanal marked America's first major offensive against Japan after the attack on Pearl Harbor. From August 1942 to February 1943, these islands witnessed brutal fighting as Allied forces sought to prevent the Japanese from establishing an airbase that would have threatened supply routes to Australia. The campaign involved some of the fiercest naval battles in history, with so many ships sunk in what's now known as Iron Bottom Sound that locals say you can almost walk across the strait on their submerged hulls.

What struck me most was learning how the Solomon Islanders themselves were caught in this foreign conflict. Many served as coastwatchers and scouts for Allied forces, risking their lives to report Japanese movements. My guide, Jacob, whose grandfather was one of these scouts, explained how local knowledge of the island's terrain proved invaluable to American forces navigating the dense jungle.

Before your visit, I highly recommend reading James Hornfischer's naval history book to understand the naval aspect of the campaign. I found myself referencing it frequently throughout my trip, especially when visiting the maritime battle sites.

My second day began with a visit to the American Memorial, perched on a hill overlooking Iron Bottom Sound. The site features a commanding stone obelisk surrounded by plaques detailing the major engagements of the Guadalcanal Campaign. Standing there at sunrise, watching golden light spill across the sound where so many ships met their end, I felt a profound connection to the past.

From the memorial, my guide drove us to Bloody Ridge (also known as Edson's Ridge), just 10km from Honiara. This unassuming grassy hill was the site of a desperate two-day battle where 840 US Marines under Colonel Merritt Edson held off over 2,500 Japanese troops in September 1942. The Japanese nearly broke through American lines in night attacks, coming within yards of capturing Henderson Field, which would have changed the course of the Pacific War.

Walking the ridge today requires good hiking shoes and plenty of water—the tropical heat is relentless even in the cooler months. I was grateful for my wide-brimmed hat which provided essential sun protection during our three-hour exploration of the site.

What makes these sites so different from European battlefields is how the jungle has reclaimed much of the terrain. My guide pointed out foxholes now filled with ferns, and we discovered a rusted Japanese helmet half-buried beneath decades of leaf litter. Unlike more developed historical sites, here you feel like an explorer discovering history firsthand.

The ridge offers spectacular views of the surrounding landscape, helping visitors understand the strategic importance of this elevated position. On clear days, you can see all the way to Henderson Field (now Honiara International Airport), bringing home just how close the Japanese came to capturing this crucial airstrip.

No visit to Guadalcanal is complete without exploring what lies beneath the waves of Iron Bottom Sound. Named for the approximately 50 Allied and Japanese ships and hundreds of aircraft that sank here during the campaign, these waters offer one of the world's most unique diving experiences.

I booked a two-tank dive with underwater camera in hand through Tulagi Dive, a reputable operator based in Honiara. Our first dive took us to the wreck of the USS Aaron Ward, a destroyer sunk during the Tokyo Express raids. Descending through clear blue water, the massive silhouette of the ship slowly emerged—a ghost from the past now colonized by vibrant coral and fish.

What makes these dives so moving isn't just the wrecks themselves, but the personal items still visible after decades underwater: boots still lined up beneath bunks, medicine bottles in the ship's hospital, and most haunting of all, a helmet with coral growing through its shattered surface. My dive guide, Solomon, whose grandfather witnessed many of these ships sinking from shore, shared stories passed down through generations.

For those who don't dive, several operators offer glass-bottom boat tours over shallower wreck sites. While you won't get the immersive experience of diving, you'll still glimpse these underwater monuments to human conflict.

The most important thing to remember when diving these sites is that they are war graves. Many of these ships went down with significant loss of life, and divers are expected to show appropriate respect. Removing artifacts is strictly prohibited and rightfully so—these sites belong to history and to the families of those who perished here.

What was once the most contested airstrip in the Pacific is now Honiara International Airport (HIR), though remnants of its wartime past are still visible if you know where to look. I arranged a special tour through the Solomon Islands Visitors Bureau, which allowed access to areas not normally open to the public.

Behind the modern terminal building lies the Fighter Strip 1 Memorial, marking the original fighter runway that American forces fought so desperately to defend. Nearby, a small collection of aircraft wrecks—mostly Wildcats and Dauntless dive bombers—have been recovered from the surrounding jungle and partially restored.

What many visitors miss is the Guadalcanal American Memorial, located just off the main road about 1km from the airport. This thoughtfully designed monument includes a reflecting pool and marble walls inscribed with the names of Americans who died during the campaign. I spent a quiet hour here, reading the names and reflecting on the average age of these soldiers—many just 18 or 19 years old.

For a balanced historical perspective, I made a point to visit the Japanese War Memorial at Mount Austen as well. The journey requires a 4WD vehicle and takes about 40 minutes from Honiara on rough roads. My travel backpack proved invaluable for carrying extra water, snacks, and camera equipment during these longer excursions.

The Japanese memorial is more modest than its American counterpart but no less moving. Stone lanterns and a small shrine honor the estimated 25,000 Japanese soldiers who perished on Guadalcanal. My guide explained that unlike American bodies, which were largely repatriated, most Japanese soldiers remain buried where they fell, their spirits far from home.

What struck me most was the peaceful coexistence of these memorials. Former enemies now honored side by side, their sacrifices remembered by visitors from around the world, including descendants from both sides of the conflict.

Perhaps the most enriching aspect of my week in Guadalcanal was connecting with local Solomon Islanders whose lives remain intertwined with the war's legacy. In the village of Tetere, about 24km east of Honiara, I met 93-year-old Eroni, who as a teenager witnessed American tanks rolling ashore. His eyes lit up as he described his first encounter with African American soldiers—the first Black people he had ever seen who weren't Melanesian.

"We thought they must be a different type of white man with painted skin," he chuckled, "until they shared their chocolate with us and showed us photos of their homes in America."

The Tetere Tank Graveyard nearby houses dozens of rusting Sherman tanks abandoned after the war—too expensive to ship home but too valuable as scrap to destroy. Now they sit in various states of decay, slowly being reclaimed by the jungle. Children from nearby villages played among the tanks, using them as jungle gyms, a striking juxtaposition of war machines becoming playthings.

At the village market in Honiara, I discovered another unexpected war legacy—shell case art. Local artisans have transformed spent artillery shells into intricate carvings depicting traditional stories and war scenes. I purchased a small piece from Joseph, whose grandfather taught him the craft using shells collected from the jungle.

"The war brought much suffering," Joseph told me, "but also opportunity. These shells that once brought death now bring life to my family through art."

For those interested in recording these powerful stories, I recommend a portable audio recorder. With permission, I recorded several conversations with elders like Eroni, preserving firsthand accounts that will soon be lost to time.

What became clear through these interactions is that for Solomon Islanders, the war isn't ancient history—it's a lived memory that continues to shape their relationship with the outside world and their understanding of their place in global events.