As previously stated, there were 84 of us, all enlisted marines with no officers, and no one in charge, just 84 marines directed to travel to Saipan and join up with the 2nd Marine Division for the Occupation of Japan.
As ordered, we were all packed and ready to board at 0600 on August 30, 1945. While we were standing around waiting for transportation to the dock area, I took a lot of ribbing about the song Sentimental Journey, that I couldn’t stop singing the day before. And as the song said, we were sure taking a journey all right, and we were leaving at 0700 hours on August 30.
There were rumors flying all around that this old tub of an LST had to be equipped with ballast to keep it from sinking, and the Capt, volunteered to take us to Saipan. Of course he would have had to have Navy permission, but that would have been no problem. According to the sailors aboard, they were going home and the old LST was scheduled for the junk yard until the skipper agreed to take these 84 marines to Saipan. Needless to say the crew was not at all happy about this trip either.
I was never able to find out why it was so important to get 84 enlisted marines to the 2nd Marine Division, and then on to Japan. I doubt that the 2nd Division needed us that urgently, if at all. Be that as it may, on August 30, 1945 we were under way and managed to bob around the pacific for 18 days, finally reaching Saipan on September 17, 1945 and immediately boarded the USS Cambria. The next day, 18 Sept 1945 we left Saipan anf set sail for Nagasaki,Kyushu Island Japan, arriving on Sept. 23, 1945. The next day, 24 Sept 1945 we disembarked and settled in for occupation duty, not knowing what that might entail.
On the trip I think the Captain of the old LST figured he had a natural working party in the 84 marines and set forth the work he expected out of us. First we were to chip as much of the old paint on this old tub as possible, while the crew did the repainting. Some of the marines had the distinction of being selected to clean the bilge tanks, and others the heads. The first day we started to chip all together in rhythm, using a cadence called by one of the sergeants. The Capt would come to the bridge and yell for us to stop that. We would immediately obey, All chipping stopped, and he would yell for us to get busy as ordered. The rhythm would start all over again, and every few minutes you could hear the sound of a chipping hammer going overboard and hitting the water. Before the day was over there was not one hammer left on the ship.
From then on it didn’t get any better for the Capt. and finally he more or less gave up. We still had working party duty but there was no more mention of chipping paint.
On September 17, we arrived at Saipan and immediately boarded the APA USS Cambria and set sail for Nagasaki.
I don’t remember too much about the trip to Japan, except how beautiful the weather was and the nights were simply outstanding. The 2nd Division Band would come on deck each night and play by the moonlight until all hours, until one by one they would drift below decks for some rest. Each night there was always this one guy left alone playing solo clairnet and whether it was the ship, the beautiful nights or whether the guy was as good as he sounded, we just sat there in awe listening. Every night when he played the Clairnet Polka we knew he was through playing. To this day I enjoy hearing the clairnet polka.
To me I have never heard a clarinetist that could play as this marine did. We would keep him playing for hours until he simply had to get some sleep. It sure made the time pass faster, listening to this great musician. I never even knew his name.
It didn’t take long to reach Nagasaki, and on September 23, 1945 we arrived in port and I received the biggest shock of the war as far as I was concerned. I looked out over the city and saw total devastation, and in the water were floating bodies of some of the dead from the blast.
We came into the harbor very slowly and then I began to notice the massive defensive positions, and it suddenly dawned on me that to capture this port city and the Island of Kyushu would have been next to impossible. Having fought the Japanese during three island campaigns, I knew they would fight to the death, especially for their homeland, and there certainly would be no surrender. In my minds eye I could see hundreds of thousands of dead Marines and even more dead Japanese, and I said a silent prayer of thanks for ending the war before this invasion took place. I also thanked Mr Truman for having the courage to drop the bomb and end this carnage before it started.
I later learned that had we been forced to invade this Island Fortress we would have been met on the beaches by armies consisting of thousands of civilians made up of people between the ages of 12 and 65. This was to be one of Japan's secret weapons knowing our hesitation at killing children and old men and women. After the civilians had demoralized our troops, the real Japanese army would then attack us with the idea of sweeping us back into the ocean.
It is difficult for me to imagine a country that would waste the life of its young children and its old people in this way. Of course I witnessed the Japanese army killing the civilians on Saipan and Tinian simply because they attempted to surrender. When we attempted to get the soldiers to come out of the hundreds of caves located on these two islands, they would force the women and children at the point of a gun to come out first, in case we fired into the caves.
This was the mentality of the men we faced all during the war, men who showed no concern at all for babies, young children, women and the elderly. I have not yet gotten over the awful curelty of these soldiers of Imperial Japan and probably never will.
Before long there were hundreds of women being hired to repair windows, clean and do other odd jobs, and as some of them remarked to us, they had never been treated so nice in all their life. I recall that we had about four or five marines in our room and each morning when we woke up there was a Japanese lady already there to clean our room and to make up the beds etc.
This was not bad duty at all. In Japan there was one custom that we found very unusual as Americans, and that was the public baths. Nudity was not looked at in the way it was, and still is in America. For example, the Marine Corps had rigged up outdoor showers for us and on my first morning in this particular barracks, I grabbed my towel threw it over my shoulder, and proceeded naked to the shower as I did in some of our other camps. I was not prepared for what greeted me when I walked into the shower area.
There was what seemed to be about 100 young Japanese women in the shower where the marines were trying to take a bath. I remember putting the towel around me and standing there with my mouth open. Finally a marine walked over and said man if you ever expect to get a shower you are going to have to pretend there is no women here and go for it. I finally found a corner where I thought there might be a little privacy and started to lather up, when all of a sudden there were two additional hands scrubbing my back. I found it difficult then and I would find it difficult today. They were everywhere, in the shower, in the latrine, and everywhere else you could think of. To them it was normal, but to us it was anything but.
I remember spending many days in what had been downtown, and standing at the point that was the center of the explosion, ground zero. We all walked over every square mile of the city of Nagasaki for days until someone determined it was dangerous. Of course at the time we didn’t even know what the word, radioactive meant.
However, today there are a lot of Marines suffering with radiation poisoning, many of which has some form of cancer. I consider myself extremely blessed, because as of this time I have no evidence of ill effects due to my being exposed to the radiation at Nagasaki.
Life in camp went on with the duties of occupation becoming more or less routine. Each day there would be patrols, work parties, ball games and all the other activities of camp life.
One day I was in my room doing nothing when the 1st Sergeant came in and told me to get dressed in my best and cleanest uniform, which happened to be dungarees, and report to General Price’s office. For the life of me I couldn’t imagine what the General wanted with me. I simply thought I must have screwed up somewhere without knowing it. Anyway I got out my newest set of dungarees, my boondockers, and proceeded to the General’s office and presented myself as best I could under the circumstances. He motioned me to come on in, stand at ease and relax.
I hadn’t thought of it in a long time, but I was never awarded the purple heart for the wounds received on two occasions during the Saipan-Tinian invasion. Then I remembered there had been a big mix-up at the time in that I had been reported killed in action and as a result my records were all messed up for a while. He proceeded to apologize for it taking the corps so long to make the presentation, but stated it was better late than never. He then called me to attention and pined the award on my more or less clean dungarees.
One of the more interesting aspects of this event was that this was the same General Price that stood outside my wife’s room in the Hospital at Camp Pendleton and passed out cigars when our twins were born. We had a nice chat and then I was dismissed to go about my business.
I was in field communication in Japan and one of our duties was to repair the telephone and electric lines. They were really messed up and I spent many hours sitting on a pole splicing electric lines as well as telephone lines. I can remember too, when I was attempting to splice the telephone wires it would be necessary to remove the heavy gloves to work with the splice. I would always call the operator and advise them of what I was going to do and please not to ring on that particular line. Invariably just as I would get the splice almost ready to connect, the operator would ring and then I would receive a jolt of electricity, not much, but just enough to surprise me and caused me to drop the line.
Some times I would have the line anchored and sometimes I wouldn’t, and when I didn’t the wire would recoil all the way back to the other pole.
At that time in Japan, or at least in that part of Japan, the electric company used ground return circuits. That meant the ground was actually used as the second wire to complete the circuit. It worked rather well when the ground was wet but not good at all when it was dry. One evening some of the marines in our barracks were trying to get a record player to work and we hadn’t had any rain lately. Needless to say the power surged up and down and it was impossible to play any records or even a radio.
The dry weather was not the only problem. The one line coming into our building was old and the connections on the poles had shorted out, draining what power there was away. Several of us volunteered to go up and see about repairing the connections so that we could have power flowing to the building. There were other problems, but that was basically what had to be done.
It was getting late in the afternoon and looking at the sky, I could tell that a storm was also in the making. There was thunder and lightening in the distance. I went up the pole first and after about two hours bearing all my weight on my legs which were being held only with the climbers gaffs I was wearing, I was just about exhausted. By now the storm was closer and we didn't have a lot of time left. I decided I had had enough and came down and told them they would just have to wait for power because it was simply too dangerous to continue.
One of my friends said he would go up for awhile and proceeded to do so. The lightening was now getting worse and even though we were wearing heavy rubber gloves that went all the way to our shoulders, it was not good enough.
He had no more than got to the top of the pole, took hold of the wire when lightening struck a transformer on the next pole. There was an expolsion and a ball of fire that traveled down the wire in fractions of a second, hitting this guys hand and arm. There is no other way to say it. His entire right side was literally cooked and the rubber glove was melted into his flesh.
Needless to say he was unconscious and hanging limp on top of the pole. I and one other guy went up the pole and somehow managed to bring him down an inch or two at a time. It took what seemed to be an eternity, but we finally reached the ground and he was rushed to the hospital. To this day I don’t know what happened to him after that. I am sure he was returned to the states but I never learned how he made out. I am hoping he still has his arm but it is not likely.
The occupation of Japan had gone much smoother than most people had thought so now it was time to start thinkin about getting some of these combat marines home and turning the duty over to a regular garrison force. At least that is what a lot of us thought. Some of the brass must have felt the same way because several of us with a lot of discharge points were ordered to prepare for transfer to the Naval Base at Sasebo, then eventually to the states.
TO SASEBO
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