A Veterans’ Day recollection

“At a time in their lives when their days and nights should have been filled with innocent adventure, love, and the lessons of the workaday world, they were fighting in the most primitive conditions possible across the bloodied landscape of France, Belgium, Italy, Austria, and the coral islands of the Pacific. They answered the call to save the world from the two most powerful and ruthless military machines ever assembled, instruments of conquest in the hands of fascist maniacs. They faced great odds and a late start, but they did not protest. They succeeded on every front. They won the war; they saved the world.”    — Tom Brokaw in “The Greatest Generation

H.A. Mitchell, decorated hero of the Pacific campaign in World War II

My father joined the Army when he was 16. He lied about his age.

He knew what was coming and was there when it came. He was in Pearl City that Sunday morning in 1941 when World War II began.

He spent the rest of the war hopping from island to island with his artillery unit. He said he chose artillery because he wanted to make a lot of noise.

I know he was in the Philippines about the time the survivors of the Death March of Bataan were rescued. The rest is a blur in my memory, though I recall him telling about how they censored letters home lest they fall into enemy hands and give away troop locations — you couldn’t write that the food was “good enough,” because the ship was at Goodenough Island.

He was a decorated hero, but said he refused to wear the Purple Heart so he wouldn’t have to explain exactly where the wound was located.

When he and his war buddies got to together they seldom talked about the fighting, only the antics, like climbing on the hood of a truck and stealing eggs out of the back of another truck as it slowly climbed a steep hill.

But one of his friends once let slip that Dad, a bulldozer operator, actually used a bulldozer blade to deflect bullets while rescuing pinned down soldiers.

To hear him and his friends talk, it seemed like they spilled more beer than blood, but somehow still managed to win the war and save the world.

They are the ones Veterans’ Day is for.

A version of this was first posted in 2012.

3 comments on “A Veterans’ Day recollection

  1. John G Edwards says:

    That’s a great story, Mitch.

  2. Bill says:

    Great story. I remember the family who lived across the street from us in Ione, California. A mother and her 5 children whose husband was a prisoner of war in the Phillipines. He was one of those who eventually came home, one of a few survivors of the Bataan Death March.

    Those who are now kneeling in protest at our National Anthem because we are not a perfect society; those burning our flag; those demonstrating in the streets because they are unhappy with an election; Harry Reid spewing his own vitriolic partisan divisive propaganda, all should give thanks to your father and the tens of thousands like him who left their homes and families and lost their lives to insure that these same naysayers of today would have the right to speak freely and not in Japanese or German.

    Too bad, they don’t teach history in the schools anymore.

  3. WWII was a turning point that should be remembered and cherished.

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