Gunny G's Marine Vignettes
Globe and Anchor Sites & Forums
(Continued
from....)
The Col. was constantly entertaining the Jap
General Staff,
those Officers, who were not involved in the crime, at our
Headquarters in a large building called the White House. The Jap
officers would sit around on the porch drinking their sacci, watching
us do the work done previously by our new found friends. As I said
before, to most of us, the Japs were not human. Our Government had
propagandized us well, and we knew first hand of the atrocities that
had been committed. We no longer felt like the victors. We wanted
to know who was going to pay the bill for the misery, not only our
outfit had suffered, but also the debt that the Japs owed every
American . Is this it? That was it! We were just there to send them
home, no pay back. Some guys started to get that gold teeth look in
their eyes, they would scratch their heads and wonder what ever
happened to justice. We felt we were losing face, our morale had
hit rock bottom. What affected our behavior I think more than the
Japs, was that we were bored. A second metamorphosis was taking place.
The war was over, life had lost its zest. We were all looking for
that bridge off Parris Island. Each day was twice forever. Please
dear God a letter. We were half way around the bend. The most
memorable moment during my stay at Chichi was when my Col. informed
us that he was going to see us all "Hang from the yardarm". Due to
circumstances beyond my control, the Col. mistakenly thought I led a
mutiny. The strange thing about it was that I did lead it, but I had
no idea it was in back of me. I happened to be the first guy out of
the wrong door. It all started the day scuttlebutt (rumor) went
around the camp that the Col. had invited the Jap Staff to our
theater that evening. Word went out (from where, I still do not
know) that when the Col. showed, we were all to leave. The theater
was actually a large garage that had been benched to hold about 2
hundred of us for a nightly movie. There were two large openings, one
at each end of the building. That night it was my turn to go early
and hold two seats, for Sam and Clausen. I arrived early and spread
my poncho over prime bench, in the first row and waited. Just prior
to the show starting, they both appeared at the door brandishing
three beers, beckoning me out into the darkness to join them. There
was no drinking in the theater and this was the normal procedure.
As I approached them and reached for my brew I heard pandemonium
break out immediately behind me. The three of us were swept away by
the surging mob that was stampeding out the front entrance as Col.
Rixey and his entourage entered through the rear. Within a
millionth of a second I knew I had been stung. Upon seeing my exit,
the rest of the outfit took it as the cue to beat it out the front
door. I had been the victim of a marvelous sting. Within seconds the
theater was empty, all but for the Col. and his friends, who no doubt
got the message. It was just my luck that when Sam & Clausen arrived
at the door, the O.D. (The Officer of Day, who was responsible for
the defense and decorum of the camp). was approaching, from their
rear. As the men stampeded past the O.D., he attempted to order us
back into the theater. We had passed the point of no return, the mob
just barreled past him. It was not the place to be standing around.
The crowd quickly disappeared into the black night amid the shouts of
"MOVIE CANCELED". But I knew I had made eye contact with the O.D.
just as I had left the theater, and he would remember who came out
that door first. He had been my Platoon Leader on Guam, my bad luck.
In the meantime
disciplinary action was to be taken against the whole outfit. This
action consisted of digging trenches and filling them up again.
Unnecessary policing of the area and more work parties. All beer,
soda and cigarette rations ended. When the Col.left things lightened
up. While this harassment was going on, we had sent all Jap
troops back to their mainland. All except the prisoners. Shortly
after the Japs left, we received orders to return to Guam. The
Bonins were to be placed in a U.N. Trusteeship.The Island was to
remain unoccupied for many years. Only the actual natives, the
descendants of Nathaniel Savory were to return in Oct. of 46. Our
orders of departure contained the strange request that all live stock
on Chichi and Haha were to returned with us. The livestock
consisted of 12 horses, numerous pigs, goats, chickens, dogs and one
monkey. The Col. had been using the horses we found on the Island to
whip some of our farm boys into a cavalry outfit. Being a Va. man he
knew his horses and something about cavalry drills. He and the boys
were having the time of their lives, until the mutiny.
The vessel
we were to return on was rather small. The ship was an LST, 1069
(Landing Ship Tank) mainly used during the war as a landing craft for
troops and armor. The ship was 300 ft. in length with a beam of 50 ft.
an a crew of 110. It was l,625 tons with a flat bottom. The most
striking characteristic was the large doors that made up its bow.
When the craft ran up onto the beach these huge doors would open,
then like a large tongue a ramp would come out of the open mouth.Ô
Tanks and Troops would then spew out onto the beach.
We loaded our strange cargo of animals in the hold
,and made them as comfortable as we could among the trucks, jeeps and
the rest of our supplies. The situation did not look too promising
for our four legged sailors. We constructed a wooden shack on the
main deck to act as a brig for our cannibals. After a day out at
sea, the smell of the animals permeated the ship. It was painful
trying to sleep below deck. It was like sailing in a dirty barn. The
second night out, the ship started taking a beating from a heavy sea.
The sailors told us that a typhoon was coming our way and secure
everything. A sailor also told me that prior to the ships arrival at
Chichi they had lost their regular Capt. who had been transferred to
another ship. An inexperienced Exec. Officer was now the Acting Capt.
The crew did not trust him. The Exec. was about to get his baptism of
fire. Within a couple of hours, the wind had increased in force to 070
mph. I recently consulted U.S. Weather Bureau for the WD SP of that
typhoon in that Log. & Lat. during late Mar. l946. They sent me a
computer printout, that read, 045. 070, 070, 100, 085, 080, 070,
080, 090, 090. As any old swabbie would tell you, that was a blow and
a half. The ship was being tossed and battered in an honest to
God typhoon. I stood out on the deck to watch the magnitude and power
of the seas. I could actually see the ship bending amidship. The deck
plates were continuously crying out in pain. A sailor reassured me
that the ship was made to buckle amidship so that it wouldn't snap in
half. As the ship tipped more then rolled because of its flat bottom,
you would look UP at the sea. The decks were constantly awash.
WHOOSH!! The brig we made for our Jap prisoners went over the side,
leaving the prisoners still on the deck. WeÔ ushered them below,
they
looked drowned and in shock. Ô
We were notified that the port of
Guam was closed and to ride out the storm as best we could. We were
to be in the typhoon for several days. This storm was a beauty, I had
been in rough weather before but nothing like this. The bow would
ride high into the air and come crashing down to bury itself in the
sea. I prayed that the two massive doors would stay closed. A sailor
had informed me that the doors were damaged and had been jury rigged
to stay closed. He told me this prior to the storm , I don't thing he
was trying to snow me. I kept thinking, what a stupid way to build a
ship. The huge seas controlled our course, the ship appeared helpless,
as the helmsman's metal was being tested. As we left Guam to our
stern, the storm just got worse, it looked like we were going to be
blown as far south as Truk, in the Caroline Islands. I was scared
stiff, I wished they hadn't told me about the doors and the Exec. I
always hated a rough sea. The animals in the hold were taking
heavy casualties. A lot of the animals including several horses had
died early on. The ship stunk. The dead horses had bloated. The smell
of the dead and alive animals, plus the storm called for a strong
stomach. Some Marines volunteered to go into the hold and hoist the
dead carcasses out through the main hatch. We all watched as the first
horse, hogtied, went out of the hold. The horse was bloated to twice
its normal size and swinging like a pendulum. Just as the carcass got
even with the deck, it broke in half, deluging the working party down
below, with horse. The audience fell on the deck laughing. The work
detail was canceled, no more volunteers. We were out at sea far
longer then we expected and therefore had to ration our chow and
fresh water, not that anybody had an appetite. Some guys would just
lie in their sacks with their head in their helmets. At night as the
ship tipped you would hear the splashing on the deck, as the helmets
runneth over. Finally we escaped the storm and headed back to
Guam.
As we entered Guam harbor we breathed a sign of relief, much to
soon. It seemed that the Exec. was now about to dock a ship for the
firstÔ time. If there is any sort of wind, combined with the loss
headway, docking can be a very difficult task for any seaman. As
we bore in, the Marines on board were lining the rail checking out the
ships in the harbor. We appeared to be closing on a beautiful yacht
the "Lovely Lady" that was tied up to the dock. The sailors told us
it belonged to the Commodore of the Island, it was flying his flag.
The yacht was J.P. Morgan class. It was a luxurious show piece made of
wood, its polished, varnished deck, and brass, glistened in the sun.
The only person on deck was a lone Officer, waving to us in a
friendly manner, a very cool character. A young guy in pressed khaki,
he looked like "Ensign Pulver",from that play "Mr. Roberts" a ninety
day wonder. His demeanor quickly changed to panic as he realized we
had lost headway and were being blown into his side. He started
making signs with his hands as if to push us off. It was now obvious
we were about to mash the Lovely Lady against the dock. The guy on
the yacht's deck had by now completely lost it. He was springing into
the air, waving his arms, and screaming foul language.
The trials got very little if any publicity in the U.S.. We were
holding our breaths, waiting for the Col. to return. Every time I
pictured myself hanging from a yardarm, I would always be dressed in
the clothes of a buccaneer. Hanging from a yardarm sounded pretty
romantic. Remember Lincoln quoting that guy who was to be tarred and
feathered "If it wasn't for the honor I would just as soon decline"
(Something like that).
One afternoon I was suddenly told to pack
my seabag, several of us were going home the next morning. We all got
smashed that night. We exchanged addresses and promised to look each
other up. I just couldn't get it through my head that I had a home
and family, and I was going their. It was like being told that I was
going to the moon. I had become a person, while far from the ties of
my family. I had been born again, and had spent a lifetime inÔ the
Pacific. I didn't feel like I was going back, more like I was going
to a place for the first time. The sadness, overwhelmed the joy.
My happiness was to come, but my loss was immediate. Parting is such
an unnatural phenomenon.
Those who love are one, and when this oneness dissolves we cease
to function as whole
persons. Part of me will always be with that band of loyal men. We
never doubted our loyalty to the Corps, we kept the faith. It was the
action of the Col. we despised not the uniform. No doubt we were
partly to blame. At the time it seemed like a great idea and we did
make our point. Things are done in the dark that have to be done in
the dark. I'm sure the whole episode could have been avoided if the
Col. had found it feasible to reveal to us his strategy of obtaining
witnesses, against the cannibals I got out of the cab, on a Sunday
morning in front of my house. I threw my seabag over my shoulder,
walked through the alley to my back door. I hadn't forgotten the
"RUG".
I dropped my bag on the kitchen floor and looked up to see
a strange girl, holding a baby, staring at me from the table in the
breakfast room. Looking through the dining and living room I could
see we were alone, no band. "Where is the family?" This was not
what I expected. "Bill? . Their all at Mass. I'm Mary, Dick's wife,
and this little fellow is Richard Monks. Welcome home!" STICK BALL
ANYONE? After I had been home a while I received a letter from a
Paul Fitzpatrick. He told me that the Col. was back for the Jap
trial, but that was it. Scuttlebutt had it, that the only
consequences growing out of the mutiny is that the outfit might be
frozen on Guam for an extended time. The Col. had come back for the
Jap trial, but that appeared to be it. I guess the Corps felt it best
just to forget it. Any extended time on that rock was punishment
enough. The rate of the speed of time passing ,depends on whether you
have your hand in or out of the fire, the hands of the clock never
moved on Guam. I thought I spent most of my life there. Ô
When
Com. Perry was returning from his historic voyage to Japan, opening it
up to the West in 1853, he stopped at Chichi Jima. The Commodore, to
commemorate his visit, had one of his ship's cannon balls mounted and
left in front of the White House on the Island. It's now
commemorating his visit to the Col.'s front lawn down in Va. The Col.
took it with him when he left Chichi. The Col. later became a
General. He did a great job in bringing the cannibals to justice. I
know, now that I look back, that his fraternizing with the Japs, was
his method of gathering evidence. He is buried in Arlington next to
his father who was also a career Marine. I spoke to a member of
the Savory family, Jessel Savory, who is now living in Las Vegas, 48
years later. He told me his family returned to Chichi in Oct. of 46,
where he was then born. I asked him if there were any repercussions
when the Japanese returned to occupy the Island in l968. I was
thinking of the Savory testimony against the cannibals. "The
Japanese," he said, "had lost so much face because of the crime, they
preferred to believe it never happened. Jessel also said, " the
Japs, after 10 years, managed to eradicate the fruit fly on the Island
by genetic cross breeding. I think our turkey ship, loaded with
oranges and grapefruit was responsible for the fruit fly. Jessel said
they never had a fly prior to the war.
The bad news was, by
importing some lumber, from God knows where, the Japs inadvertently
introduced a specimen of termite, that infests the whole Island. The
termites are so plentiful, they are seen as clouds. You cannot drive
a motorcycle because of your vision being hampered. In order to
correct this problem, naturalist were invited to the island to offer
a solution. They investigated the problem and threw up their hands."
PARRIS ISLAND I . My first encounter at P.I. was one at the
Receiving Station. 60 guys stark naked lined up in two ranks. A
doctor and corpsman using a flashlight and checking everyone. The guy
to my right had a C marked on his chest. When I did not get my C , I
started wondering why. Next the guy on my left got the big C. I don't
know if I was more pissed off or more worried, Well it didn't
take long to find out.
The Plt. Sgt. told everyone with a C to take
one step forward. You guys get your razors and head for the showers.
You all have the "Crabs". I sure was happy about not getting that big
C. II. I remember the day in boot camp when the Sgt. told about 4
of the biggest guys to take another big recruit outside the barracks,
strip him, and give him a sand bath. I can still hear the guy
screaming as they tossed him into the hot shower.
Cruise Ship III.
Going Overseas: We boarded the Dutch East Indian freighter, S.S.
Bloemfontein for a harrowing trip to Guam. Many of us remember this
ship. Dirty! Rats! Over Crowded! and Terrible Food! How it made so
many trips across the Pacific and back is unbelievable.It was the
Marines private ferry to hell. Ô IV. The Rock: When we arrived at
Guam, some of us joined the 3rd Reg. and moved up to Baragota. Couple
of nights later, I was placed on a perimeter outside camp with a
couple of guys. Sgt. said any noise, fire away and we did. At day
light, we found where the noise was coming from. Remember those wild
boar hogs? We nailed a few. V. Flying Dutchman: Going to IWO.
Most of us in the 3rd Reg. remember the Frederick Funston A.P.A. 89
and our lucky episode at IWO.
How many remember the ship Captain's
son who was in the Fifth Div.. After visiting his Father, the next
day he was taken on board mortally wounded. His Father buried him at
sea. VI. Return to Guam: When we returned to Guam from IWO, the
first mail call brought a letter from my boyhood buddy, Floyd. He
joined the Navy the same time I joined the Corps. Seems as though his
ship an A.K.A. was due in Agana Harbor in two weeks and on a Sunday.
Sgt. let me catch a ride to the docks and I spent a day on board his
ship. It was the first time we had seen each other in three years.
VII. End of the War.
JOHN H. MONAGHAN
HAMPDEN, MA HOW TO MAKE A CANTEEN CUP SPARKLE I came out
of P.I. with Platoon No. 487 on 25 October l944 and following 10 day
boot camp leave, reported to Camp LeJeune, N.C. for infantry training.
When the 45th replacement draft formed up and boarded a troop train on
23 December 1944, I was with it. The 45th draft reached Guam. MI on
16 May l945, and I was assigned to C Company, 3rd Engineers, 3rd
Marine Division, an elapse time of 144 days. Now travel then by
train to the west coast followed by ship to Guam totaled 22 days, so
that it may be seen that the 45 had a couple of delays in route along
the way, mostly spent in infantry training in the hills of Camp
Pendleton, CA.
Bad luck struck before we left Futami Harbor. So we
off loaded from No. l022 with it's damaged prop and bent shaft,
shipped on LST 1052 and I saw Chichi Jima for the last time that same
day. If I had known then what the future held, I would have
stood fast, stayed put and waited for orders. You never know.
Footnote 1: In l988 I caught Bob Snyder's ad in the VFW Magazine
for a Chichi Jima Marine's reunion, signed up. and Bob sent me the
duty roster for the period. I then started my own search for guys I
knew and for the Doctor. After some static with the AMA I
reached the Doctor's office where he had a practice in Queens, N.Y.,
and in a moment I was speaking to him.Ô "Doctor, I'm John
Monaghan and we are having a reunion of the 3rd Marines and would
like to have you attend. You and I were on Chichi Jima in late l945."
Gradually, the contents of the gallon
containers were reduced as our delight in the treats augmented.
All good things come to an end and this was no exception when the
officers soon began complaining that they were not getting enough ice
cream. Then we made a polite gesture that was a mistake. Lt.
John Oakley came by one evening to discuss the next day's operations
and we invited him to have a cup of ice cream. He reacted with
pleasure and our sharing was a silent confession. We knew immediately
we'd better not sneak ice cream any longer without putting Lt. Oakley
in the position of having to report us. He was a good guy and we
liked him. ++++++++++++++++++
The Radio Station was another
important demolition target. Our bombers had hit this area with some
heavy stuff but it hadn't resulted in enough damage. Running low
on TNT and CI and C2, we discovered some drums of alcohol in nearby
caves and figured we could and must improvise. With help from the
3rd Marine Infantry, we rolled the drums into the Station, The day was
set, patrols secured the area and sentries safely went to cover in the
near by caves. We were using a train of explosives leading to the
Station's interior with the caves protected from the blast by a rock
front. I dropped the wet cloth and accompanying the BOOM, black
smoke and fire engulfed the entire area. The once thick concrete
fortress was gone, but the burning went on and on. We were
welcomed back at the Compound with "What the hell was that blast and
all that smoke? You're to report to Col. Rixey."
The ships anchored outside the harbor entrance waiting for us to get
finished. Oakley placed the LCVP behind a large concrete sea wall for
safety. As anticipation and excitement mounted, I asked Lt.
Oakley if he would like to engage the hell box handle. He flashed a
big smile. For a moment there was not a sound except the steady
splash of the waves against the wall. "Whenever your ready," I
told Lt. Oakley. All hell broke loose with pieces of metal,
concrete, etc., flying high. In the contrasting, following silence, we
jumped into the landing craft and headed for the LST. Chichi Jima,
the Gibraltar of the Pacific was history. As we rounded the
huge rock leading to the ship, a deafening cheer arose from those on
board; a tribute I still like to recall. It was like a final salute
to Chichi as we left the smashed bastion to return to Guam and later
to the great United States of America. * Footnote: I wish to thank
all the guys who helped me lug explosives, equipment, etc., What
memories I have of my time in the Corps and in particular those of
the value of the then, now andÔ always good buddies.
I had a Jap prisoner of war assigned
to me at one time. He was a draftee from a well to do family in
Osaka, Japan and was a graduate of UCLA. One day on recon we came
across an elaborate thick walled concrete building, free standing,
inside of a mountain. it had double doors,that had a spoked wheel,
like a bank vault. Being possibly booby trapped, I had my learned POW
open it. You can imagine my surprise when I realized I had discovered
the treasure of Chichi Jima. There before my bulging eyes, lay
theÔ
Col.s, stash of booze, cases and cases of neatly stacked Kinsey. More
then enough for two men.
CHARLES MARSHALL, FLOYDE KNOBS, IN THE ACCIDENT
On
the dark and stormy night of 26 January l959 while I was asleep on a
greyhound bus. I was suddenly awakened by two men in uniforms
screaming obscenities, shouting something about maggots and turds.
They ran down the aisle pulling us out of our seats. thought we had
come across a terrible accident. little did I know that the accident
was just starting and would last 12 weeks. i had arrived at Parris
Island, South Carolina. I thought my best chance to survive was
to be inconspicuous but that was not about to happen, The first
night, after getting our bedding, 74 of us were lined up in front of
our bunks.
We were about to learn how to bounce that quarter. I was
the only one in the whole barracks with just one sheet, and I knew at
one point I had to let the Drill Instructor know about my problem. I
tried to remember proper procedure and caught his attention between
tantrums. "Sir, Private Charles Mar..." was as far as I got. To this
day, I remember Sgt Woodruss, with his campaign cover (Boy Scout Hat)
pressed against my forehead, telling me how nice it was that we were
already on a first name basis and he was sure we would become good
friends. He lied. He was transferred 3 weeks later and my life
improved considerably and I never did get à first name.
We
were getting pretty salty by the time we go to rifle range. Marching
back from chow one evening we notice some cooks unloading beer
apparently for a party for the "real" Marines. I was not involved in
stealing that case of beer but I did enjoy several cans of it and
often wondered how many of the hundreds of thousands of recruits that
went through Parris Island had a beer before graduation. When
my son joined the Corps. in l984 I warned him about theÔ sandfleas
and how they would fight the mosquitoes to see which one would get
the honor of exploring his eardrum during inspections. After his
graduation, he assured me the sandfleas won the battle. After
generations of selective breeding and marine blood they our now the
size of hornets and wear globe and anchor tattoos. I arrived on
Guam in early l960. My first impression was "this place smells like
mildew". (Eighteen months later during a stop over in Hawaii I noticed
it smelled like Flowers. I wondered what the difference was in the
Pacific Islands?)
One afternoon
our Company was called to search for some officer's child who had
wondered off and gotten lost. I recall searching some brush on a
hillside and discovering an area that had apparently been a battle
site. We were told not to touch anything because of the possibility
of booby traps. My mind went back to the war years and I tried to
imagine what it must have been like at that time. I was tempted to
pick up a canteen; it would have been a nice souvenir, but I decided
both arms and fingers were nice too. I was there when two
stragglers were captured. They had lived in the jungle for 16 years.
What determination and grit it must have taken to survive like that
for so long. Other stragglers turned up on Guam years after I had
left. In l988 I took a Japanese language course and I asked our
instructor what the reaction of hisÔ people were regarding these
stragglers. He said some thought they were heroes; but mostly people
were embarrassed about them. Japanese society did not want to think
about it.
My high point on Guam was the intramural rifle match.
There were over 100 participants from all the Armed Forces and from
the Guam police force. After rapid firing ten rounds at 300 yards, my
target came up with 12 holes in it. Someone else had fired on my
target. I had the option of taking the 48 score or firing again. I
chose to fir again and scored a 50. Those two points put me over the
top. i still have the trophy 34 years later.
My low point came
with two weeks left on the island. one night our Company was having a
beer party. After a few drinks, several of us went into town to one of
the local bars. An argument started with some of the Guamanians.
Since we lacked the odds for a successful assault we went back to the
party for reinforcements, with beer flowing freely we did not lack
for volunteers. It is still hard to believe we crammed 14 men in a `52
Ford and headed back to town. One of our post was main gate security.
We knew all the sentries so our driver just slowed slightly and waved
as he went through. I was looking through the back window and saw the
sentry draw his 45., point it in the air, and fire. In my drunken
stupor, I thought that guy is in a lot of trouble now. I never saw
anyone intentionally fire a pistol on duty. Little did I know that
the O.D. got wind of our raid and called the main gate to stop us. it
was a short fight and no real harm done. But I do remember thinking
what a loud noise a cue stick made when it was broken over a man's
back.
I was fortunate
enough to spend three or four months on Chichi Jima. I was good duty
no spit and polish. our only job was to guard a large cave. Inside
this cave was a hugh locked vault. I assumed it contained atomic or
chemical weapons. I sent a lot of my free time exploring the
pill boxes, caves and tunnels, At that time in l961 a lot of large
guns were still in place, their bores filled with concrete.I have an
old black and white photo of a crumbled radio tower and i have often
wondered if it was the same one that President Bush had bombed so
many years ago.
There were some Japanese living on the island
and I became friendly with one of the girls. I was familiar with some
of their customs so I was prepared to take off my boots at the door
after i had been invited to supper one night. But I was totally taken
off guard when her step mother asked me if I wanted to take a bath.
I thanked her very politely and said I already showered before I
left. I did find out later, during R and R in Japan, a bath is
considerably different from what I was used to.
One of the
islanders named Roy told stories of the cannibalism that had taken
place during the war. I was skeptical at the time, but having read
much since then, have discovered this cannibalism did occur. I
left Chichi Jima on a seaplane headed for Guam. We stopped at Iwo
Jima to refuel. While our plane was being serviced, I was taken to Mt.
Sarabachi. What a sight it was, looking down from the top of that
volcano. The image of the battle invaded my mind "where uncommon
valor was a common virtue". It brought a lump to my throat and I felt
proud , the reputation of the Corps was assured a permanent place in
history. Broken, sunken ships still lined the coast and were used as
breakers.
Caves and tunnels were still being discovered. As I wrote
this a poem came to mind. "God and a soldier, all men
adore. In time of war but not before.Ô
When War is over and all things righted, God is
neglected and an old soldier slighted." As we boarded and got
ready to take off. I saw an old fire truck pull up beside our plane.
I did not think much of it until we started to taxi and he raced along
beside us until we lifted off. I did not know whether to be thankful
for the backup system or be concerned about the lack of confidence in
our aircraft.
Speaking of unreliable aircraft, when we left Guam
for the States we made a stop at Wake island. It seemed that the side
of the plane had started to peel off. It was not very comforting,
standing on the runway, watching some seabee patch a hole in the
airplane that still had 1000 more miles to go. I was nineteen years
old when i returned. in eighteen months I had seen Guam, Saipan,
Tinien, Chichi Jima, Iwo Jima, Japan and Hawaii. As Bob Hope says,
"Thanks for the memories". Ô
Howard
Clifton Nashville, IN Bill, talking
to you the other night brought back memories of 50 years ago when I
was an 18 year old kid on Guam in a tent, None of us will ever forget
that time, or the things we experienced. Until I enlisted in the
Marines I had never been very far from home or away from my family.
What a change it was from being a high school senior in Indiana to a
U.S. Marine in boot camp. in San Diego, California. We sure had to
grow up fast! Although I lived east of the Mississippi I was sent to
San Diego. I was the only one from Indiana sent there at that time. I
never could figure that one out! I will never forget my first
morning at San Diego. Our train arrived at about 2 a.m. and a bus was
waiting there for us. Then as cattle to the slaughter we were herded
aboard, and about 20 minutes later we arrived in camp. We were taken
to a large warehouse type building with rows of bunks and told to
"sleep". About 3 hours later, 5:30 a.m. that morning the blast
of reveille and the loud voice of the sergeant got our attention! We
were then told to walk to the end of the building, pick up a cardboard
box and go out on the street. There we were formed into three lines.
The sergeant instructed us to take off all our clothes, put them in
the box and put our name and address on it. So here we were at 6:00
a.m., standing stark naked in the street.
Then we were lined up
again and divided into platoons. That was when we met the D.I. of our
platoon!....... Like the sign said I died...... I know at the end of
Boot Camp we were not the kids that went in. Ô
Within two weeks following the
Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings, the 509th packed up and returned
stateside having ended the war against Japan. Not long
afterward, I was transferred to Iwo Jima as Island Veterinarian, At
this time the military population was about 35,000, and I was
responsible for the control of flies and mosquitoes. This involved the
Navy, who supplied a 4 engine bomber and crew. Fifty gallon drums
filled with DDT in kerosene were rigged in the bomb bay. Spraying was
done on a routine basis and was very efficient, particularly from the
altitude of 100 feet.
THE WAREHOUSE CAPER
One of the best kept secret for 50 years. Who was the person or
persons who started the open door policy into the warehouse that was
used for the storage of war material and personal armament such as
samurai swords, rifles, pistols, cameras, machine guns, binoculars,
machine guns, etc, etc. We were told by Col. Rixey, our
Commanding Officer, as the conquerors of the Japanese Empire we were
entitled to these spoils of war. We were informed that each Marine
would receive a samurai sword, pistol, and rifle. These were
immediately issued to us upon the close of the Japanese surrender
ceremony. We were still left with a super abundance of excellent
spoils that left the Marines with their mouths watering. Knowing of
this thirst, those responsible for these spoils kept them in a
padlocked warehouse, under the eye of a roving guard..
Our
inborn lust for souvenirs combined with the challenge to stiff the
rare echelon of undeserved souvenirs, put us in search of a
clandestine method to crack the warehouse. It wasn't hard to get by
the roving patrol but the damn padlock had to be left untouched. The
ideal plan called for a caper that would go undetected, till the goods
were ready to leave the island or if we were not too greedy, maybe
never. One day while a Marine was walking along the main road that
passed by the warehouse. He happened to look up at the roof of the
warehouse and noticed an odd thing. The black tar roofing paper had a
sag every 12" inches apart , along the length of the roof, which
indicated that the Japs had spaced the roof wood planking 12" inches
apart to save precious lumber. They had padlocked a gift shop, that
could be sold out at theÔ drop of hat. The Marine reasoned that
cutting three sides of the roofing paper between the planking would
provide an excellent trap door, where upon a man could drop through.
The big risk involved was whether the culprit was going to be trapped
inside. First a little research had to be done to make sure that it
was possible to use the crates in side to get back up and out the
trap door.
They
walked passed him, he said nothing. They continued on back to their
tent. The word had gone out, the tent was full of Marines waiting to
see what they had brought back. The loot was shared. The best being
kept by the last of the Marine Raiders. Ð
BILL MONKS FAIRVIEW, NJ Ð
††††††††††?†††††††††††††††††††††?? †††††††††††?†††††††††††††††††††††??
SUMMER OF 46: By June of the summer of '46 most of us had made
it back. We had been in every military service and every corner of
the world. We had gone away as innocent as boys could be, and had
come back still in a daze from our experiences. Our innocence had also
been interred in that common grave, where "Ernies" and Stickball was
buried..
Our average day started in the morning with a round
of golf. We would then proceed to the beach which was only a stones
throw from the golf course. The loser of the golf game would buy lunch
at the Pavilion on the boardwalk. We would then go for a swim and
lie on the beach for awhile. All over the beach you would see the
crowd lying on Navy, Marine and Army blankets. We always had a
football and our cleats with us. All the old crowds from Ernie's hung
out in the same beach area, Bay 13. There was never any trouble
getting up a touch tackle game. There was a grassy playing area in
back of the boardwalk that made for a great field. After the game we
would go back into the water for a quick dip. From there we would go
back to the PavilionÔ and sit outside at the round tables and
guzzle
a few beers. The plans for the evening were then brought to the fore.
In the evening there were three popular places to choose from.
Happy's Yacht Club, Irish Town and De Leos. No matter which place we
chose, at the end of the night we would end up at the Ave S Diner for
burgers or ham & eggs. I found Happy's to be the most enjoyable.
When you were in Happy's, you had it all. The club itself was built
out on the water. When the atmosphere inside the club got a little too
stuffy, you could take a stroll with your date on the open deck
overlooking the water. Ah! To stand on that deck for one more moment.
I can still hear the music in the background, feel the cool night
breeze that draws us closer together, as we share the beauty of the
moon, reflecting off the water. It was that romantic setting that
Hollywood musicals always strove for. That summer was to be the
beginning of one hell of a love affair in my life. After almost 50
years I can still stir up some beautiful and painful memories. "There
will be a tree forever leafless in the forest of my heart".
(Santayana) Lets leave her out here, get off this deck and get back
inside. The bands great sound and the good size dance floor,
really enhanced our dancing pleasure. We took good advantage of those
dancing lessons that we had in Pep's basement a lifetime before. I
always got a kick out of watching Joe Lundy and Dot Burdgie doing the
Peabody, to the music of "Hold That Tiger". It was an incredibly fast
dance. Joe turned out to be the used car dealer in the crowd. He was
as bad as the best of them. Joe was great fun, I always enjoyed his
war stories. I remember at the time he was driving an old Ford. He
used a piece of clothesline to tie the doors closed. It was probably
the best car on his lot. The girls would drink rum and coke or
just coke. The guys would drink a ton of beer. The price was terrific,
the whole evening would add up to about five bucks. The war had
separated us for such a long period that we had a lot of amusing and
excitingÔ experiences to share. And as the old saying goes, we
never
let the facts get in the way of a good story.
My two childhood
friends, the other two Bills (Harry & Phil) would be at the table.
Phil had been a pilot and Harry was part of the crew of a Navy
torpedo bomber. Pep would be there also, he had been a radioman with
the Navy. We each still had our esprit de corps, always defending the
branch of the service that we had served in. You can bet this could
only have been done in retrospect. It was the first time any of us
ever said a good word about the outfits we were glad to get the hell
out of. I remember how we would all end up singing at the
table.
The songs were the old standbys that belonged to that time. "
When You Were Sweet Sixteen" "In a Shanty in Old Shanty Town," "The
Gang Down on the Corner" "Whippenpoof Song. " Paper Doll" "Don't
Get Around Much Anymore. We all sang, we never let a good song get in
the way of a bad voice. I remember how the girls really looked
great. But the guys wore some strange suits in the those days. All the
Vets came home at the same time, causing one big clothing shortage.
There was just not enough decent suits to go around. It was always
good for a laugh to go with a guy who just came home to buy a suit. He
would try on these weird suits, and we would say how terrific he
looked.
That night at Happy's we would kid the pants off him. He
wouldn't care, he was finally out of uniform. Come to think of it, it
was probably the first suit he ever bought. I remember when the suit
makers finally caught up with the demand, gabardine came into fashion.
It seemed we exchanged one uniform for another. Everybody was wearing
a grey gabardine suit. It looked great on all of us. I remember
old Irish Town, a section in Rockaway on the shore. On a summer
evening after a day at the beach we would pile into our cars and
drive into this area that had more Irish bars per sq. ft. than any
place in the world. The music from each bar would flow out its doors
and windows and blend into an Irish mist that would permeate the air.
The whole area was in continuous frenzy. I think the only scene you
could compare it to would be the feast day in Pamplona, when on the
occasion they let the Bulls run free, chasingÔ the brave populous
down the winding street into the bullring. We would bounce from one
ginmill to another, pausing in each, to drink, sing and dance. On the
edge of town there was a miniature Coney Island.
Occasionally, before
we would go home, we would end up at the shooting gallery. Every G.I.
thought he was the greatest marksman in the war, especially when he
had a few beers in him. It was a great fun town. You had to be in
shape to last the night. Thank God we always had a designated driver.
I remember one night after we had returned from Irish Town, it
must have been about one in the morning . Four of us had dropped the
girls off and we were sitting in my parked car on Ave. R. We heard
this awful loud noise and turned to look out the back window. Here
comes this car, sliding down the Ave. on its side, throwing sparks
like a blast furnace. Some how it had tipped over in a race with
friends in another card. We really didn't know what it was until the
car came to a halt and the sparks stopped. We immediately ran over to
the car and pulled out 5 guys. The chap I pulled out has only one arm.
I was horrified, till he told me that he lost it in the war. No one
was hurt and we quickly set the car upright. They were gone in a
matter of moments, before the residents on either side of the street
could open their doors. It turned out we knew most of them. We
joined them down at that roast beef place, Brennen & Carrs, and we
all had a good nervous laugh. It was hard to believe they all got out
without a scratch. They don't make cars like that anymore. You know
it didn't even look that bad. Forty six years later I met an occupant
of the car, Joe Bradberry, in MA. We both agreed not many people ever
believed what happened that night. That car slid a good twenty yards.
He told me he still lived on Marine Parkway. September finally
came, and higher education beckoned. We had no regrets, we had done
the summer of 46 in spades. It was the best of times in that kingdom
by the sea.Ð Standard Standard tylus 800 There were other great
summers that followed, but there was no doubt about that being the
high water mark. It was now time for the guys in the crowd to choose
their individual careers. And they were various, they ranÔ the
gambit
from used car dealer to test pilot, from philosopher to architect.
Tom Belcher combined chicken farming and investment banking. The
G.I. Bill provided all the vets with a paid college education and
sixty bucks a month. All the fellows were anxious to take advantage
of it. In a short time we were absorbed in that wonderful game called,
" What in hell is it all about?" Phil attended the Acad. of
Aeronautics. He ended up a designer and test pilot for Republic
Aircraft. My old childhood friend never got flying out of his blood.
He flew for a good thirty years. His wife told me at his wake, that
on weekends he would always go down to the local field and rent a
plane. That big heart of his quit on him one night while he was
sleeping. I was fortunate to have spent my youth with him, a real
honest to God Huck Finn. Harry, Pep and I went to one of the local
colleges in Brooklyn, St. Francis. Harry had gone to the Prep and had
heard good things about the College. It was a very small college and
I'm sure it went into shock when the great influx of vets enrolled. It
had only five classrooms, two labs, a postage size gym and about 7 or
8 hundred students. Lets just say it was a small college where you had
ample opportunity to develop a close relationship with your fellow
students. Every available space including the roof was used for a
classroom. I had the unique experience of attending both day and
night school during the same semester. The classes during one
semester were spread over a six day week. I remember one semester I
had a math class at 11 AM and a class in labor law at 6 PM. The
local restaurant the Greasy Spoon was used as our study hall, student
center, and dining facility. Pie was a dime and coffee a nickel. Ô
