Neither mundane nor pointless but the correct forum.
My WW2 and Korean War combat vet father passed away a few minutes ago. Ironically, I’m halfway around the world in Japan with my family en route to a vacation in Okinawa. He had been in Okinawa, not sure when but as part of the occupation circa 1946.
His parents were Arkansas sharecroppers turned homesteaders in Marcus washington before being flooded out by the grand coulee damn. His father died in a farm accident before that happened during the Great Depression. Dad figured out that he could qualify for the GI Bill as long as he did basic by the end of 1945. So at 17 he talked his iron hard mother to let him sign up the summer of 1945.
Not sure if he counts technically as a WW2 combat vet? He engaged in multiple firefights in the Philippines in mop ups with Japanese forces that hadn’t surrendered. He said those were really fierce but nothing like being on the 38th parallel.
I remember his total disdain and contempt for the Chinese government on Tiananmen. Simply agast that they didn’t know crowd control and it was almost a professional affront. He said in Manila during massive anti American riots in 1945-46. He and his platoon would go through the crowd with rifle butts. “you get one on the downstroke and another one on the upstroke. You split the crowd in half, then in quarters then into smaller manageable groups and the riot is over without shooting up the damn place. Sometimes there was live fire and we returned it, dropping to a knee, spin your finger in the carbine trigger guard for rapid fire and aim below the waist.” That really bothered him as a 17 year old wearing a uniform.
He also talked about Christmas eve, and it must have been 1945. Somewhere in the philippine islands on guard duty, and hearing the locals singing Silent Night. Really moved and stuck with a religious, uneducated farm boy far from home for the first time in a strange land.
He learned a trade after being mustered out as a private second class. He became watchmaker with the Elgin watch company in Illinois. From his background, mastering a trade was considered a huge success.
Got called up very early for Korea. A quick boot camp refresher and he was on the 38th parallel in Winter when the Chinese entered the war. “There were gooks everywhere and I didn’t think we would survive”. Had to move a water cooled 50 caliber machine gun emplacement because there were too many dead bodies in the way to effectively shoot it any longer.
Once when camping, pointed at the really steep hill we were hiking up and flashbacked to him and fellow dogface humping up a giant metal gug of fresh water (maybe 10 gallons) up and over the pass while under enemy fire. Said we got up that thing fast, and needed the water to survive on the retreat.
Not sure how many times he got busted back to buck private but it was multiple. Once for telling off a leut because he would not use his belt to tourniquet the leg of a captured enemy combatant “use your own damn belt.” Another time back in the rear just after returning from the front line he had big bushy whiskers and an officer “ordered me to shave off THAT Sideburn, so I did and he busted me down to buck.” One last time he had a bazooka, could hear a tank, was the one to take it out, and just before the action happened other officer order “get 'em with the AP (armor piercing round)” and the only thing he had was white phosphorous and it was ready loaded. Tank came sound the bend, shot it, turns out to be an old truck loaded with stuff that sounded like a tank, and the driver was blown free, legs running in the air, landed and was gone. I guess words exchanged with that officer as well and lost a stripe. He thought he was great soldier, did his duty in foxholes and not shirking patrols "but don’t have much patience for marching and parade ground soldiering.
He had been knocked unconscious and was in a road. A good Samaritan rolled him into the ditch or he would have been run over. Someone else used his body as a shield and gun rest, which did some pretty serious damage to his left ear hearing. Not sure how he broke his back. Tried to evacuate him in a “birddog” plane that crash-landed.
He would never watch MASH after having been in one for way too long. I could watch but he always left the room since it was made up Hollywood bullshit.
Visited us 2.5 years ago and still had flashbacks and nightmares 75 years later.
He had graduated second to the worst in his class from Spokane high. He got into college on probation and graduated in 3 years. He also topped his academic career with a PhD in divinity, his dissertation became a published book.
He did some stuff and eventually felt the calling and became a Presbyterian minister until retiring. His last sermon included one piece “I have never preached about abortion as I believe that is personal thing between you and God. I will tell you this, God would never want you to bomb an abortion clinic or murder a doctor that provides abortion.”
I don’t think he ever attended a sermon after he retired but he did like to do weddings, and married one of his grand daughters in September. He married all three of his sons, in my case in hong kong, many many others. He did a good wedding. He was also pretty renown for his funerals. I think they still talk about the funeral he did for Howie Chan in Folsom California. Howie was a genial Chinese immigrant that worked and was a fixture in the small town school district his whole life. At the end of the ceremony, my father said to turn to your neighbor and tell a story about Howie, and they were still telling stories hours later. He didn’t mind that I dabbled in Buddhism and later gave up on religion entirely. His wish was for cremation and no funeral and that wish is being honored.
He was A complicated product of his time, and maybe racist at times and maybe not. My grandparents, white trash sharecroppers from Arkansas, used the term “negro” versus the n word. I did hear the n word occasionally growing up but usually it was blacks but a lot of gooks and nips. Yet he had a really good friend that was a Nisei who went behind enemy lines in the Pacific to get Intel. Had the utmost respect for him. He had other good Asian friends and taught how to use chopsticks among other life skills.
Visited me in Japan. Someone bumped him on the subway, didn’t apologize, and he muttered “I used to shoot people like you in the war.” I was like “come on Dad, that’s not appropriate.” And a day later we had a great lunch with Ito-san, and the two kept up a correspondence afterwards with genuine comraderie. Ito-san grew up in new York, returned to Japan and became an imperial guard, saw Doolittle plane fly over Tokyo, fought in burma against the English (recounted a battle where he was one of 3 Japanese survivors when the English retreated - and he wore an Omega watch he had taken off a dead officer), walked to Thailand to surrender, was the last Japanese soldier repatriated because his English was so good, returned to Japan, became an exec in one of the trading houses, and long after he retired worked part time as a translator for when I worked at UBS. The two old warhorses and former combat enemies just had a delightful lunch in Tokyo.
Had total respect for anyone that got in the trenches and don’t shirk their duty. Not much respect for most (maybe all?) officers. Utter contempt for Patton.he was an infantry man from the foxholes, never wore it on his sleeve, but could come out at odd times. He was a dogface, and all veterans, especially those that had seen combat, were brothers in arms.
He taught me how to be self reliant, we spent a lot of time camping and thats when the war stories would very occasionally come out, taught me to whittle a chain from a stick of wood, use knife (for many things including combat) and how to safely shoot a gun. He had a 30.06 hunting rifle but sold that when i was about 8 and as far as i know never touched a gun again. Didn’t care ad never felt the need to havone for self protection. He didn’t really understand me taking Chinese, but helped find the savings bond left by my other grandfather to sell to cover my airfare to taiwan in college. We were borderline middle class but made due. Like him, I worked my way through university. He had gone as far as his social status and upbringing would take him, yet helped me to aim higher. He was happy that I earned life experiences without have to serve in war.
I suspect it wouldn’t have been his first choice but fully welcomed my Chinese wife into our family. And the grandkids we added. Even genuinely welcomed the in laws. He got past the fact my father in law served on the other side in the Chinese Liberation Army during the Korean war and was content with them being part of the extended family. One downside of me living abroad for 20+ years and then in seattle when he was in San Diego was that we didn’t see him that often. My kids all know him but not as much as we would have liked owing to where we lived. He visited me in asia 3 times, we went to san Diego 10 times, and he visited us in Seattle once. Him and my step mother would send cards on all the holidays and we talk occasionally.
He went in the ICU 18 months ago with congestive heart failure, pneumonia, kidney issues. I went to visit as it seemed like the big one but he pulled through. Recovered well. Said good things about the VA. We did a big road trip to see him 2 months later and you couldn’t tell that he had been through such a serious health crisis. He did a few trips to see family, went into the ICU a few times for short stays, and had kidney failure a month ago but was back home with oxygen. We all knew then that it would be sooner or even sooner. He collapsed early Tuesday morning. 911 responders performed CPR in the ambulance and again at the hospital. He hadbeen without oxygen for 15 minutes or so. He had left Do Not Resuscitate instructions.not sure why those were not followed. He was completely unresponsive and on life support. Not sure how DNR actually works its needed, but he had made that clear with his ICU stay that no heroics. My step mom asked if I agreed with the DNR and her wish to fulfill it. Of course I said yes. My big brother flew out Tuesday afternoon. While the docs were doing some heroics but about two hours ago ceeded to the family wishes, and nature took its course about 20 minutes later surrounded by a big chunk of his extended family. So I sit here on a flight to Okinawa composing this rambling eulogy on my phone.
He was old school. Left a To be opened upon my death letter in his desk. I think he willed me the only personal momento I asked for - the bayonet kept in his boot 24/7 during his whole tour of combat in Korea. He only has that exact bayonet because when he disembarked in SF from his troop ship, his duffle bag was sitting right there and he grabbed it. He left me plenty of invaluable life lessons, advice, model for grace under fire, and how to make it in this world with one’s soul intact. My second eldest brother has some special needs, and how my father managed that has helped provide a model for love, grace and patience to make the most possible as i have a child on the autism spectrum. And that sometimes you just have to take a stand, do what is right and damn the consequences.
I don’t think there’s a better person you would have wanted in your foxhole. I couldn’t ask for a better father. I miss you Dad. Godspeed.