American Hero.

My Uncle Ted is a man who, from not far below Mount Suribachi, witnessed both of the flag raisings in the island of Iwo Jima in February 23 1945. He manned a flame-thrower as the Marines were forced to empty concrete bunkers one by one and Marines fell around him in droves. It has been described as “twenty six days in hell”, and perhaps that does not even begin to describe what these men saw, did, and went through in the costliest battle in American history in term of lives and combat injuries.

We recently visited and sat for a few hours reminiscing about the old days. He is now in his eighties, ravaged by Parkinson’s disease, his hands shake uncontrollably, and his health is fragile at best. His mind is as clear and as sharp as when he was a young Marine in the South Pacific. It was his duty, along with hundreds of thousands of other American Men, to save the world. The unbelievable thing is that they did just that. If most Americans really knew how close the war really was, they would be much more watchful and thankful for what they had and for what these heroes really did fifty-five plus years ago.

He remembers in detail the day that he and his buddies passed a dead enemy soldier on a trail and saying, “don’t go near that guy because you will be sorry”. Nobody in his group touched the body but a group not far behind, hunting for trophies, turned over the body causing an explosion and the senseless killing of more men. He remembers every bunker he cleared and he remembers the flags going up on that god-forsaken island appropriately covered with black volcanic sand. He says he was right below where both of the flags we raised but they did not have much time for reflection because there was a lot more work to do. The flags went up very early in the battle. Weeks would pass before the island was secure. He remembers these and many other details as though it were only yesterday.

He can tell stories of Guam and the fact that his unit was supposed to go to Okinawa, but they were sent to do other things instead. He can tell you every detail of his basic training, the names of all of his drill instructors, his life long buddies, of buddies who never made it home and thousands of other details that might seem unimportant, but have been etched into his memory through the horror of the war to end all wars, and the fire of constant combat, . I have problems remembering last week and this man remembers details from more than fifty-five years ago with almost unbelievable clarity.

He carries one of his original dog tags on his key-chain and he still has his Marine ID card in his wallet. This man is Marine through and through. I have no idea what medals he won and it really does not matter to me because this man, and millions like him around this great country of ours, is a true American hero. They went out and did what they had to do. They fought against sometimes-insurmountable odds and persevered in sometimes-unbearable conditions and without creature comforts for long periods of time. They were ravaged by disease not to mention a formidable enemy. These men didn’t know when, or even if they would ever be allowed to go home, or worse make it home alive.

He then came home, back to America, after they had won the war and started a business in Chicago. He was and is a very productive member of society and he lived the American dream. He never spoke much about his experiences of the war in the early days. He instead concentrated on his business and raising his family.

Not only were these men productive, they surpassed anything anyone could have ever thought possible. They were enlisted into another war, the cold war and were given little hope of ever winning that war, but they did. Over time, they have been responsible for amazing advances in our society. Airplanes, spaceships, audio, video, medical advances and even the computer I am writing this article on, are all by-products of the dedication and resourcefulness of these men. If they did not invent these items, they certainly found innovative ways to use them all and to make them better.

When one thinks of the horrors he had seen and lived through, it is amazing that he could function at all let alone be a very productive member of society. Only now, in his later years does he open up even a little about what happened. He has sanitized it for mixed company and it really does not seem so bad any more, but you can see in his face and in his eyes that this man has seen things that no human should ever be forced to see.

What is the point of this article? Veterans of World War II are getting older every day. We are losing them in staggering numbers. The end of the war was some fifty-five years ago and even those who were eighteen years old are now approaching their mid seventies. We do not have too much longer to give them the honor and the respect that they really deserve. Seek out one of these great men and say thank you for what they did for us.

This man is a man I have admired all of my life. He is also the one man who had the greatest influence in my life. When I considered joining the military, I went to him to get his advice. Before I left for recruit training I remember sitting on a bench overlooking a peaceful lake and my uncle giving the best advice he could before I embarked on my long journey of a career in the United States Marine Corps. “Do exactly what they say, when they say it, do not call too much attention to yourself, and do not volunteer for anything,” he told me, “the jobs they give you will challenge you enough”.

Twenty-fours years later, as a recruiter and now as a Retired Marine Master Sergeant, I have given the same advice to hundreds, if not thousands of young men and women who find themselves in the same position that I was in so many years ago.

For me, I want to thank my Uncle Ted. I want to thank him for the things he did, the sacrifices he made, the
example that he set and the time he gave to me, a confused, mixed up seventeen year old wondering what to do with his life. I need him to know that his was the mold that I looked up to all of my life and tried to emulate.

He would say that what he did was nothing, that he was just doing what a good American, what any good American would have done. I have other Marine heroes too, Lieutenant General Lewis “Chesty” Puller, His son Lewis Puller Jr. One of the original flag raisers on Iwo Jima Charles Lindberg, whom I have had the honor to know and with whom I was able to spend some time. Countless leaders and Marines who led me, taught me, mentored me. Sergeant Major Rick Lipa, Master Gunnery Sergeant Garry Gross, Lieutenant Colonel Jim Bathurst, Colonel R. C. Lewis, General AL Gray and countless others. Marines who worked for me and whom I have mentored.

As great as all of these men were and are, none have had the impact or the influence of one kind, non assuming dedicated Marine hero whom I have had the honor to know and love for a very long time, my Uncle Ted, Ted Malkowski.

Thanks Marine,
Semper Fi,

William B Panknin,
Master Sergeant, USMC retired.

I sent my uncle the preceding thoughts in his Christmas card. I wrote it after our last visit on Labor Day weekend 1999, and had a feeling that I had better get it to him before it was too late. My aunt wrote back to say that they had read it to him and that afterward he was very tired and needed to sleep. I am thankful that he at least was able to hear a coherent explanation of some of the things he meant to me. If you have someone like this, don’t wait, let them know. Don’t wait until it’s too late.

I wanted to get down a few more thoughts as we are now preparing to bury my uncle. He gave me my first adult starter set of golf clubs. Jack Nickalaus Golden Bear clubs. He was the first person to ever pay me for completing a job. I learned to play ping pong in his basement He was at every family function as I grew up, and we were a pretty close family 11 kids, every holiday, birthday, baptism, confirmation, graduation, and summer weekends at the cottage in Delevan. I never once saw him speak to anyone in anger, and he was one of the most generous people I ever met. I have always admired the fact that when he was ready to retire, he just gave his business to his hand selected successor.

He was Polish and proud, but he was American through and through. I always looked forward to Christmas Eve at his house. The giant shrimp and the great Polish sausage became sort of a tradition that continued all my life. I remember that throughout my life whenever I could get home at Christmas, I would go to his house because the entire family and extended family would be there on that night. Even during the not so cheerful periods of my life, I could go to his house and be cheered up.
I just can’t express how much my uncle affected my life. If I were to pick the one true hero that I had in my life, the one whom I would never want to disappoint, the one whom I could, or want to emulate, this would be that man. He always let me know how proud of me he was, and the pride really showed. He was very proud that I was the only one in the family who chose to follow in his awesome footsteps.

We shared an uncommon bond, over generations and over many years. A Marine is a Marine. War, peace, good times, and bad times, no matter what. We were both molded from the same fire, the U. S. Marine type of elite, accomplish the mission, band of brother, best fighting force in the world training and discipline. We endured the hardest training, to earn the title Marine. A title he carried with honor and dignity and might I say not a small amount of pride. I spent my entire career living up to the professionalism and high standards that all Marines have shown through 224 years of existence and I can honestly say that I held my Uncle Ted in the position of honor in front of all of the Marines who have served before him, and since.

I loved him greatly, I admired him deeply, and I shall miss him more than absolutely!