The injured guards, Richberger, Cochrane, and Oldham, were driven down to the dock area. Johnston made a solemn trip over to meet with Bessie Stites and deliver the news of her husband’s tragic death. Her friends and children would assist her, as they gathered their belongings and met at the dock where her husband’s body lay tightly covered with a dark green army blanket. Harold P. Stites had become the first known fatality, and his body was lifted onto the bow of the launch for the brief trip over to the Van Ness Pier. As they arrived, they were met with a barrage of reporters snapping photos, desperate to get any information that was available. The news of Stites’ death was starting to spread, and the tension rose among the families, who feared the worst for their loved ones on the island. Ambulances lined the dock access path with their flashing red lights radiating against the buildings and water. When the launch arrived at the dock, four prison officers, Fred Richberger, Harry Cochrane, Herschel Oldham, and Elmus Besk, were rushed by ambulance to the Marine Hospital in the Presidio. The body of Harold Stites was solemnly loaded into the back of an ambulance and driven to the Medical Examiner’s Office, where it would immediately undergo an autopsy.

Warden Johnston had made a final decision that it was still too risky to send in an armed assault team. The plan would therefore be to attempt to communicate with the cornered inmates, to see if they could strike some limited bargain for the hostages’ return. Ed Miller was assigned the task of attempting to negotiate with the inmates. Breaking out a pane from a window over the D Block catwalk, Miller yelled blindly into the cellhouse, trying to reason with the escapees, and pleading for them to surrender. At first there was no response, but then after a brief moment, Cretzer yelled from an indiscernible location that they would not be taken alive, and challenged Miller to “come’n and get us.”  From his position in the gun gallery Bergen listened carefully to the sound of the voice, and cautiously looking over the Gallery’s steel barrier, he attempted to locate where the voice was coming from. As Cretzer and Miller briefly exchanged words, Coy fired off several rounds toward the window where Miller was standing. This action incited a response, and soon there was an intense barrage of gunfire into D Block.

Scenes of Alcatraz at war. Armed with mortars and bazookas, United States Marines used heavy artillery to bomb the cellhouse in an effort to regain control.

Alvin Karpis, former “Public Enemy Number One” and the inmate to serve the longest term on the Rock, later recounted that the first bombardment of gunfire took the inmates completely by surprise. They had not expected the barrage of bullets to be so severe. The inmates in D Block were nearly deafened as the artillery attack reverberated throughout the cellhouse, and to the many spectators who lined the shores of San Francisco, it was reminiscent of a Fourth of July fireworks display. Former inmate Jim Quillen later reported that when the rifle grenades fired by marines penetrated into the cellhouse, the steel casings of the segregation cells could be seen expanding and contracting from the massive impact of the explosions. The inmates took cover behind piled mattresses, bedding, and books. As grenades traveled through the barred windows of D Block and clumsily landed, they would detonate hot shrapnel fragments across the cells. The individual blasts sent violent shock waves across the tiers and in one case inmate Burton Phillips was knocked completely unconscious, and all of the plumbing fixtures within his cell were destroyed. Each time a grenade hit, it would rupture the water lines, creating what Quillen later described as a “free-flowing river” that flooded each tier. There was a collective mood of terror as the inmates were forced to take cover behind the icy-cold water-soaked mattresses, which slowly increased in density, acting as large porous sponges. The chilly Bay winds started to creep into the cellblock, but this also dispersed some of the harsh and acrid haze of teargas. It was later recounted that each time the clouds of teargas started to dissipate; another canister would be thrown onto the cellhouse floor.

Spectators lined the shores of San Francisco, watching the embattled prison. The sounds of gunfire and bombing resonated throughout the city.

By 9:00 p.m. the cellhouse was completely dark, with only ambient lighting glowing though the exterior windows. Bergen was now positioned in the “L” section of the gun gallery, observing the attack of the administration forces. As the barrage of fire lessened, voices from the catwalk again pleaded with the inmates to surrender their weapons and release the hostages. Coy was now taking cover behind the cement wall next to the D-Block entrance, and he yelled more obscenities at the guards, then fired several rounds toward the window from which the voice had emerged. The attack would again rage on, as the cellhouse was shelled with powerful artillery. Bergen and Mahan, who were now rejoined by Burch, fiercely opened fire on Coy, but they were unable to see him well enough to aim precisely. After nearly forty-five minutes of fierce battle, the rapid pulse of gunfire slowed to an irregular pattern, with only occasional deafening bursts aimed at briskly moving shadows. Coy retreated back into the utility corridor, where he climbed the labyrinth of piping, hoping to find a point on top of the cellhouse from which he would have a clear, unobstructed shooting radius.

Tension was now also rising for the inmates in the recreation yard. Each time shots were fired into the cellhouse, the inmates would yell obscenities at the marines and guards along the wall. These slurs would generally be met with aimed rifles and machine guns, challenging the prisoners’ unruliness. The sharp winds had also added to the inmates’ misery, and the blankets seemed to offer little protection against the salty ocean mist. The guards in the East Gallery were aware that Coy and his accomplices were pinned down in the C Block Corridor. The inmates decided that they would need to position themselves more advantageously, and they decided to make a run for the dining hall, where they could stock up on food supplies, and perhaps attempt another attack on the yard wall guards. As they slowly opened the access door they were immediately met with intense fire, and were forced to retreat into the corridor. On the outside, Bergen, Burch, and Mahan spread out to see if they could detect any movement. There was virtually none, and all they heard was the loud whispering of the inmates amongst themselves. Bergen got back on the phone with Miller, and he conveyed his confidence that his team now controlled both galleries, and that they were in a good position to attempt the rescue.

Warden Clinton Duffy of San Quentin had shared a long and close friendship with Warden Johnston. Duffy’s father had also served as Warden of San Quentin, and he himself had actually been born inside the prison grounds.  A mentor to both Johnston and Duffy was the former Warden of “Q,” James B. Holohan. Holohan and Johnston had been among the driving forces behind recent progress in the area of inmate reform and education. Duffy and Holohan interfaced extensively with Johnston, and both men continued many of the programs that were introduced by Johnston during his days at San Quentin. When word came of the current debacle, Duffy committed a large group of his full-time correctional staff to help support their peers on Alcatraz, including the San Quentin physician, Dr. Leo Stanley. A Coast Guard cutter made a special trip across the Bay, bringing the San Quentin guards straight over to the island. Captain Bernard McDonald of the San Francisco Police Department also brought over several heavily armed officers, who were all prepared to engage in battle with the inmates.