Military Career - Dwyer's Memories

I enlisted the first week in Nov 1942.  I seem to recall 2 Nov 1942, but was not sworn in until Jan 1943.  I enlisted in Tulsa, OK, and was sworn in, in Oklahoma City, OK.  As the senior serial number, I was in charge of a troop train and carried all orders to San Diego Marine boot camp.  I'm still in touch with several who were on that train.  Passenger cars carrying recruits joined the train in various places.  We had cars from Texas, Iowa, Michigan, and other states.

Four Oklahomans were sworn in at the same time in Oklahoma City:  a man named Wright from Preston, a man named Bailey from Oklahoma City, an Enid man whose name I can't recall, and I.  The Enid man and Bailey washed out in boot camp and were sent home in yellow sweaters and bright blue denim trousers.

Boot camp was ten weeks and I contracted bronchial pneumonia to be hospitalized for about three weeks.  My original platoon went on, so I was assigned to another platoon to finish basic training.  Harmon L. Welke of Blue Earth, MN, had the same experience, so he and I were reassigned together to finish.  In 1995 he lived in Knoxville, IA.  He became a cook in artillery, and I volunteered for the fleet Marine force, FMF, as a rifleman.  Harmon got Sergeant's rank as a cook, and I was a buck private.  A private's base pay was fifty dollars per month less deductions.  I had no dependents, but I optioned for the maximum insurance of ten thousand dollars that cost $6.50 per month.  

After boot camp, I went to Camp Pendleton in Oceanside, CA, for training.  I was assigned to L Co, 3rd Bn, 24th Reg, 4th Marine Division as a Browning automatic rifleman until about Nov 1943, when I was transferred to combat intelligence as a topographer in Headquarters and Service Company, H&S, after it was discovered that I listed my civilian occupation as a draftsman.  It was found that I could translate aerial photos into grid maps for invasions.  Combat intelligence including scouting and liaison between rifle companies, line, and the combat command post.  I liked to volunteer for scouting and liaison to be on my own and to communicate with line company buddies in the 1st and 3rd Battalions.  I boxed and wrestled with many of them during training in California and Maine.  I also liked to volunteer as a guard when field telephone wiremen had to walk at night following the wire to find where it had been cut.  Japanese cut the wire and waited for Marines to trace the break.  Vehicles often cut the wire too.  It was wise to have a guard walk with the wireman so he could concentrate on his job.

The first landing for the H&S Co., 1st Bn, 24th Reg. was on Namur in the Marshall Islands.  Our invasion was the first in history for an assault unit to leave the U.S. for direct combat without going to another camp to train.  Roi and Namur are joined by a causeway.  Namur was an infantry base, and Roi was an air base.  The airstrip on Roi is now named after Lt Col Aquilla J. Dyess, CO of 1st Bn, 24th Reg.  Dyess was killed by a sniper on Namur and received the Congressional Medal of Honor just for breathing.  At that time false heroes could sell war bonds.

Namur was eight feet above sea level with many tunnels, two huge steel reinforced concrete block houses with walls seven feet thick and several pillbox shelters made from palm tree logs and dirt.  Those block houses, pillboxes and tunnels were relatively unmarred by bombing and heavy naval gunfire.  Metal buildings were destroyed.  Concrete buildings on Roi were damaged but usable.

My old L Company was in assault, and I recognized dead when my H&S unit landed in reverse.  Everyone was in assault immediately upon landing, but I Co. and L Co. took the brunt.  I was scratched by shrapnel in the butt on the first day but did not report for treatment.  I sprinkled sulphur powder on the wound and baked in the sun during the day.  At night on Namur I volunteered to carry wounded back to the beach for two nights in succession.  I took a break one dawn and checked my rifle while on the beach.  I found the recoil spring in three parts on my Garand M1, and I still have nightmares about rifle failure when I need it in combat.  I shot at only three men on Namur with that rifle before I discovered the failure.  At night I used a .45 semi-automatic pistol, a .30 caliber carbine, and a 12-gauge shotgun with .00 loads.  The carbine and shotgun rode on a buddy's jeep during the day.  The first thing that I killed was a wounded white pig that moved in a tunnel.  I shot at the noise with the .45.  I still have a canteen that I found on a scouting mission under the first block house on Namur.  The canteen has flesh on it from suicide grenades used by the men and women whom I found in the block house.  I could barely make it through the small opening under the block house, and I was armed only with a pistol.  I found documents.

Several Japanese took refuge in the second block house and could not be talked out.  Finally the only American tank that I saw on Namur came in and fired point blank at the steel door with a 75 cannon.  The door broke and the tank filled the block house with a flamethrower.  Burning men ran out and we mercifully shot them.

Many buddies whom I knew well were wounded or killed on Namur.  One was in B Co., and we had done bread and water brig time together.  He had more time remaining than I did when we were released to board ship and go into combat.  I was a prisoner at large, but my buddy was assigned to the ship laundry to complete his time.  I can't forget his statement, "I ain't goin' to wash them Goddamn Officer's dirty skivvies."  He was put in the ship brig and released only to hit the beach.  He was killed rescuing a wounded buddy under fire.  Only a posthumous Purple Heart.  I am still in contact with the wounded or the families of the killed.  One phoned yesterday, 22 June 1995.  He is in Iowa.

After Roi-Namur, our Division went to rest camp on Maui, TH.  After replacements and training, we went to the Marioraas Islands, Saipan, Tinian, and Guam.

I failed to mention the name of the man who refused to wash Officers' dirty skivvies.  He was George Pate from Alabama.  I am recalling names and events of more than fifty years ago, so some may not be chronological.  The first dead Marine whom I recognized on Namur was Lt Frank Reese, a schoolteacher from Kentucky.  I was told conflicting stories of his demise.  I knew a Marine from I Co., 3rd Bn who said that he would kill Reese at the opportunity.  Some said he did, but Reese's CO, Walt Ridlan, said that Reese was killed by enemy fire.  Either would be possible.

My unit, 1st Battalion, 24th Regiment, did not participate in the assault on Guam.  We watched from Tinian where we could see fires and troop ships, but it was too far away to see human forms.  We had done the assaults on Saipan and Tinian where we lost so many men that we were held in reserve for Guam to recuperate.  Tinian could be seen from Saipan, and Guam could be seen from Tinian.  Japan had entered WW I late but gained Saipan and Tinian as repatriation against Germany.  America took Guam.  The Marioraas had been Spanish possessions, and the natives spoke Spanish as well as Japanese.  Some natives, Chamarros, were light skinned enough to have freckles, due to Spanish blood mixture.  Spanish missionaries wearing white habits were on the islands.  The nuns and priests appeared pasty faced when compared with Chamarros, who later were called Guamanians.

I found an old Spanish cutlass with a brass bowl type hand shield, but someone stole it from my cache of souvenirs.  The cutlass had to be from wooden sailing ship days and was a real find.

My unit, 1st Bn, 24th Reg, was in assault on Saipan.  We barely made it off the beach when artillery, mortar, and machine gun fire hit us.  We had not grouped, so I was alone in a trench full of decomposing Japanese who had been killed by bombing and naval gunfire.  I spent the first night alone in the trench without sleep because I was alone.  Japanese fire resumed early on the second day and I took shrapnel in the left shin.  Skinny pieces went through my leggings (required in all landings), trousers and skin to slide along the bone.  I cut the shrapnel out, used iodine that I always carried, and joined my unit.  If I have to pick my worst time in combat it would be time in that shallow, sandy trench under fire with no buddy to back me up.

The Japanese were proud, stubborn fighters, but we were better.  Saipan wore on with great losses.  My best buddy, Lawrence M. Erburu, and I had spent a night in a foxhole during rain that left only our heads out of water in the fox hold.  He was still in L Co., 3^rd Bn, but he told me that he was ill and had been sent back to a command post to rest.  I was a perimeter guard on the 1^st Bn command post when I saw Larry coming.  I talked to him and asked him to share my foxhole.  Only two were supposed to be in a foxhole to split watches all night.  I got medicine from sickbay because Larry led me to believe that he had dysentery.  We read each other’s mail before dark.  I knew his family from spending weekends in Ojai, CA, with them, and I even went there without Larry after I was transferred.  I still have close contact with family survivors.  Larry and I were fraternity brothers, and I went to his USC frat house a couple of times.  We were in boot camp together and served mess duty together.  He always slept on my arm as a pillow in foxholes during training and combat.  After the rainy night I gave dry, clean clothing to Larry, and he went back to L Co.  Only enough time passed that Larry could rejoin his unit when our own artillery fell short to drop square in L Co.  I volunteered for a liaison mission with Corp. M. E. Logan of Charlotte, NC, so I could check on L Co. causalities.  Scattered letters with Mrs. Erburu’s return address sticker told me a lot.  Larry had his letters in a front pocket of his dungaree jacket, and each letter had a jagged hole.  I gathered the letters and they were lost with some of my other effects when I wounded on Iwo Jima.  Larry died instantly.  All the bodies were covered with shelter halves or ponchos and I found Larry under the second.  I wept and then cursed while M. E. Logan waited for me to get it out of my system.  That night I couldn’t sleep fortunately and killed some Japanese who were trying to infiltrate.  

While on a scouting mission with a radio man on Saipan I noticed a large number of Japanese on foot with only light arms advancing toward the 27^th Army from New York.  The 27^th had been called in to cover our left flank while Marines pushed Japanese to the North.  We had landed on West beaches near Charam Kanva sugar cane processing plant.  Marines secured the southern half of Saipan, pushed East across the island, and swung North to compress the Japanese.  The 27^th Army was supposed to hold the left flank so the Japanese could not swing behind the Marines.  Gen Ralph Smith commandeered the 27^th, and Gen Holland M. Smith commanded the 4^th Marine Division.  By the way, Army artillery killed Larry and others in L Co.  Anyhow, the Japanese that I saw were in the wide open running on foot toward the 27^th.  The Army had Sherman tanks, jeeps and other vehicles with men on foot.  As one, without firing a shot, the Army broke and ran.  Soldiers ran into the ocean where many small boats picked them up.  Men jumped from tanks and jeeps to run to our rear.  The Japanese set fire to some vehicles before advancing to a Marine artillery unit far back where Harmon Wilke was a cook.  I watched all that and reported it through my radioman.  I was in bushes atop a cliff overlooking the scene.  I was about a thousand yards from the nearest Japanese.  Holland Smith was in command, and he ordered Ralph off the field and relieved.  The 2^nd Bn, 2^nd Marines came from reserve to retake the left flank.  

I have books that describe campaigns in general, so I shall not attempt to write history.  We secured Saipan with great attrition and had ten days rest before assaulting Tinian.  We were loaded with dysentery and needed medicine to stop dehydration.

While waiting to go to Tinian, I shared a foxhole with Sil Paulini, a heavyweight boxer from MA.  We are still in contact.

I was telling him about lighting cigarettes at night to show the glow to Japanese and then waiting for action.  We did it, and sure enough, a Japanese officer tried to come in.  He met other Marines first, and he ran from man to man in the dark before someone killed him.  No shots were fired.  Sil reported it to Jim Lucas, a newspaperman, and that is how I was written up in all the Scrippe Hamond newspapers.

I went to Tinian in an amphibious tank launched from an LST landing ship tank, but Sil Paulini landed in a small boat.  An Army officer piloted Sil’s boat and would not beach it for the Marines to debark.  Sil and other Marines had to unload in water over their heads while carrying full equipment.  That unit was mortars and machine guns.  No weapons made it to shore. 

The men had to swim under water to escape Japanese machine gun fire.  All were cut badly on the coral reef.  Sil made it ashore with a knife.  I was lucky to get out of the tank on sand when the machine guns shot elsewhere.

The Japanese fell for a decoy landing on Tinian lava to the South and directed their heavy artillery there temporarily.  We were inland pretty well before we caught artillery when it was intense.  American 155 artillery firing from Saipan killed several L Co. Marines on Tinian.  About halfway through Tinian we could see Guam, and we learned that we would not be needed there.  We needed the Marinnas as bases for our heavy bombers to reach Japan.  B17s and B29s were based there later.

On the lighter side, R. H. Davis of Pittsburgh, PA, and I were on a scouting mission when we found a Japanese officer’s warehouse full of whiskey, wine, and beer.  We found a bull, yoke, and oxcart in a corral, so we yoked the bull, rigged reins to the ring in his nose with field telephone wire, loaded the cart with cases of goodies from the warehouse, and drove the load to C Co., 1^st Bn where our buddies were in assault.  The load didn’t last long, so we drove the empty cart back to the warehouse for another load.  On the way we found a cow, yoke, and cart, so we commandeered the rig for our needs.  We found a buddy guarding the warehouse, because our CO heard about the warehouse.  Our buddy looked the other way while we loaded both carts for a return to the front lines.  

Unloaded, R. H. and I chariot raced our carts back to the warehouse, but we were too late.  We didn’t know the men on guard.  Our Bn commander ordered all beer to be turned in for a Bn beer bust when the island was secured.  Each man got a half canteen cup of beer after standing in line.  He could return in line for as long as the beer lasted.  I had kept a case of bourbon whiskey in square glass decanters and some scotch whiskey.  Other fellows had buried their bottles in the sand.  After dark we retrieved our loot and partied.

When islands are declared secured, many of the enemy are still scattered and active at night.  Knowing that, a perimeter of protection is always around the various command posts.  A Sergeant who had never killed a man assigned a young replacement straight from boot camp to walk a post between machine guns for CP security.  I had a shotgun, but walking the same path back and forth at night in vegetation is asking to be waylaid.  I selected a large boulder between the machine guns and sat with half gallon of liberated saki.  The recruit didn’t drink before, but he did that night, and I challenged the Sergeant any time he checked on us in the dark.  The Sergeant wouldn’t come to the first gun. 

After Tinian I was transferred to H&S Co., 24^th Reg as regimental topographer.  I had a hut in camp that did not stand inspection because of the top-secret photos, maps, etc. revealed to others only when we were aboard ship as the way to an assault.  All was coded, but all was locked anyhow.

Iwo Jima was needed as a fighter plane base for escorting the heavy bombers in the Marianas.

Our fighter planes could stop the Japanese fighters from downing our bombers.  The Iwo Jima airstrip also saved crippled bombers that couldn’t make it back to the Marianas base.  Therefore, we attacked Iwo Jima.  The Japanese let us in without resistance so we would pile up as better targets.  The island is 1 ½ miles wide and 5 miles long, eight square miles of volcanic residue.

I was hit by shrapnel on the second day after landing.  We were taking heavy fire from all sides, because we landed in about the middle of a long side.  The Japanese were looking down on us from both ends to direct their fire.  We had no cover or concealment in the sand.  My first night I shored my foxhole with my map case and Japanese bodies.  On the second day we were taking heavy fire from our right and our left.  I was aware of machine gun fire, mortar fire and huge rockets similar to the German buzz bombers.  My intelligence CO, Arthur B. Hermenn of Baltimore, MD, was in a bomb crater when he asked me for the launching site of the vehicles.  I knew already and gave the coordinates.  He argued and called Navy big guns on a different location.  I saw the 16-inch guns hit, and Hansen asked about it when he heard the hit.  I told him that the guns were right on his target, and I repeated my original call.  The big guns hit my call, but two big rockets were already in the air.  All I could do was to watch as they fell.  One of them had to get me.

Everything is patchy from the time I was hit.  I recall some, and I was told some.  I do know that I lost my wallet with a good sum of money from my pay and three side jobs, my private pistol, and new watch.  I have inquired but no results.  My CO was responsible.

J. E. Ross of Crawfordsville, IN, said that he was the first man to see me after I was hit above the right eye.  The shrapnel went through my helmet, and I think that I recall being dizzy and sitting down to rest my head on my right arm.  Ross said that I was in that position.  Lee Hughes told Hugh Sellers later that my head was torn off and I was placed with the dead to be buried at sea.  Walter Backus of Willard, WI, tells me that later someone shouted that I was alive.  A corpsman took over.  I seem to recall the bumping as I was loaded into a landing craft to be transported to an APH assault personnel hospital.  The APH ships took us to islands and stood by to take casualties.  I went to Iwo Jima aboard the APH Ratland.  From the APH that took me from Iwo Jima I seem to recall swinging in air on a stretcher enclosed in a heavy zipped bag.  That may have been when I was taken aboard the USHS, US hospital ship, USHS Isla for surgery.  I seem to recall waking during surgery to feel tugging on my head and hearing someone say, “I got it.”  I heard a clank of metal on metal when an instrument dropped into a container.

The next thing I think I recall was bumping along and severe pain at the back of my head.  I was told later that I had been taken to an Army hospital on Saipan.  From Saipan Army hospital I was sent to a Naval hospital at Pearl Harbor.  I have no recollection of Saipan or the trip to Hanoi.  Winnie (mother) told me of a letter that she received from an attendant on Saipan.  Only part of Pearl Harbor is remembered.  I first became aware of being wounded in bed and most of what I know was told to me later.  I do recall flying to the Naval Hospital in Oakland, CA, but being there is hazy.  Many wounded were sent from CA by train to hospitals closer to their homes.  They were to be discharged there.  I faintly recall part of the train ride, but I do not recall arriving at a Naval Hospital in Norman, OK.  My speech was garbled, and I found it easier to sing or recite poetry as rote practice.  According to my parents, thirteen doctors said that I would never walk or have any social limits on my behavior.  Debilitating seizures were predicted, and my parents were told to take me home or send me to a veterans care facility for life.

Of course my parents were remarried and I no longer fit in their lives permanently.  I had been on my own for five years.  Unwilling to accept what was told to my parents, I requested and received a transfer to a Naval Hospital in St. Albans, NY, where a top neurosurgeon was.  Tests showed that I could expect no improvement, but I was walking and speaking well enough to expect progress.  I was transferred to a Philadelphia Naval Hospital where I learned Braille, one hand typing and travel by cane.  I also received a brace for my left leg.  I received an artificial eye and some cosmetic surgery on the right front of my head.  X-rays show two pieces of shrapnel in my brain.  Both are roughly ¾ inch in diameter, and one is located in the right occipital lobe governing my remaining eye.  Severed nerves in the brain caused paralysis of the left arm and left leg with consequent atrophy.  When younger I had enough other muscle to compensate, but as I grow older the arm and leg lose strength and coordination learned earlier.  Back trouble resulted from imbalance.  Doctors told me that I shouldn’t be able to walk and that I should expect to be in a wheelchair.  I was discharged from Philadelphia Naval Yard in 1946.