Jump to content
Nugget Shooter Forums

Recommended Posts

  • Replies 449
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

Top Posters In This Topic

Popular Posts

Please take a few moments to watch this extraordinary video of one man, > > placing one flag every mile across the US for every one of our > > military who gave their lives serving this

SIX BOYS & 13 HANDS   

0930 here so it's 0530 CST and I haven't found any mention on the Internet of Pearl Harbor Day. Being PC doesn't erase it from my memory. Thanks to all who gave all and those that survived that terr

Posted Images

On Nov. 15, 2003, an 85-year-old retired Marine Corps colonel died of

congestive heart failure at his home in La Quinta, Calif., southeast

of Palm Springs. He was a combat veteran of World War II. Reason enough

to honor him. But this Marine was a little different. This Marine was

Mitchell Paige.

It's hard today to envision -- or, for the dwindling few, to remember --

what the world looked like on 26 Oct 1942.The U.S. Navy was not the most

powerful fighting force in the Pacific.Not by a long shot. So the Navy

basically dumped a few thousand lonely American Marines on the beach at

Guadalcanal and high-tailed it out of there.

Nimitz, Fletcher and Halsey had to ration what few ships they had.

I've written separately about the way Bull Halsey rolled the dice on

the night of Nov. 13, 1942, violating the stern War College edict

against committing capital ships in restricted waters and instead

dispatching into the Slot his last two remaining fast battleships, the

South Dakota and the Washington, escorted by the only four destroyers

with enough fuel in their bunkers to get them there and back.

Those American destroyer captains need not have worried about carrying

enough fuel to get home. By 11 p.m., outnumbered better than three-

to-one by a massive Japanese task force driving down from the

northwest, every one of those four American destroyers had been shot

up, sunk, or set aflame. And while the South Dakota -- known

throughout the fleet as a jinx ship -- had damaged some lesser

Japanese vessels, she continued to be plagued with electrical and fire

control problems.

"Washington was now the only intact ship left in the force," writes

naval historian David Lippman. "In fact, at that moment Washington was

the entire U.S. Pacific Fleet. She was the only barrier between

Admiral Kondo's ships and Guadalcanal. If this one ship did not stop

14 Japanese ships right then and there, America might lose the Pacific war. .."

On Washington's bridge, Lieutenant Ray Hunter had the conn. He had

just seen the destroyers Walker and Preston blown sky high. Dead ahead

lay their burning wreckage. Hundreds of men were swimming in the water

and the Japanese ships racing in.

Hunter had to do something. The course he took now could decide the war,

Lippman writes. ''Come left, he said. ...Washington's rudder change put

the burning destroyers between Washington and the enemy, thus preventing

her from being silhouetted by their fires.

The move made the Japanese momentarily cease fire. Lacking radar, they

could not spot Washington behind the fires. ... Washington raced

through burning seas. Dozens of destroyer men were in the water

clinging to floating wreckage. Get after them, Washington! one shouted

Sacrificing their ships by maneuvering into the path of torpedoes

intended for the Washington, the captains of the American destroyers

had given [ADM] China" Lee one final chance.

Blinded by the smoke and flames, the Japanese battleship Kirishima

turned on her searchlights, illuminating the helpless South Dakota,

and opened fire. Finally, as her own muzzle blasts illuminated her in the darkness,

Admiral Lee and Captain Glenn Davis could positively identify an enemy target.

The Washington's main batteries opened fire at 12 midnight precisely.

Her radar fire control system functioned perfectly. During the first

seven minutes of 14 Nov 1942, the "last ship in the U.S.

Pacific Fleet" fired 75 of her 16-inch shells at the battleship Kirishima.

Aboard Kirishima, it rained steel. At 3:25 a.m., her burning hulk officially

became the first enemy sunk by an American battleship since the Spanish-American War. Stunned the Japanese withdrew. Within days, Japanese commander Isoroku

Yamamoto recommended the unthinkable to the Emperor -- withdrawal from Guadalcanal.

But that was still weeks in the future. We are still with Mitchell Paige back on

the malaria jungle island of Guadalcanal, placed like a speed bump at the end of

the long blue-water slot between New Guinea and the Bismarck Archipelago ... the

very route the Japanese Navy would have to take to reach Australia.

On Guadalcanal the Marines struggled to complete an airfield. Yamamoto

knew what that meant. No effort would be spared to dislodge these

upstart Yanks from a position that could endanger his ships. Before

long, relentless Japanese counterattacks had driven supporting U.S

Navy from inshore waters. The Marines were on their own.

As Platoon Sgt. Mitchell Paige and his 33 riflemen set about carefully

emplacing their four water-cooled .30-caliber Brownings, manning their

section of the thin khaki line which was expected to defend Henderson

Field against the assault of the night of 25 Oct 1942, it's unlikely

anyone thought they were about to provide the definitive answer to

that most desperate of questions: How many able-bodied U.S. Marines

does it take to hold a hill against 2,000 desperate and motivated

Japanese attackers?

Nor did the commanders of the mighty Japanese Army, who had swept all

before them for decades, expect their advance to be halted on some

jungle ridge manned by one thin line of Yanks in khaki in October of 1942

But by the time the night was over, The Japanese 29th Infantry

Regiment had lost 553 killed or missing and 479 wounded among its

2,554 men, historian Lippman reports. The Japanese 16th Regiment's

losses are uncounted, but the [uS] 164th's burial parties handled 975

Japanese bodies. ... The American estimate of 2,200 Japanese dead is

probably too low.

You've already figured out where the Japanese focused their attack,

haven't you? Among the 90 American dead and seriously wounded that

night were all the men in Mitchell Paige's platoon; every one. As the

night of endless attacks wore on, Paige moved up and down his line,

pulling his dead and wounded comrades back into their foxholes and

firing a few bursts from each of the four Brownings in turn,

convincing the Japanese forces down the hill that the positions were

still manned.

The citation for Paige's Medal of Honor picks up the tale:

When the enemy broke through the line directly in front of his

position, P/Sgt. Paige, commanding a machine gun section with fearless

determination, continued to direct the fire of his gunners until all

his men were either killed or wounded. Alone, against the deadly hail

of Japanese shells, he fought with his gun and when it was destroyed,

took over another, moving from gun to gun, never ceasing his withering

fire."

In the end, Sgt. Paige picked up the last of the 40-pound, belt-fed

Brownings -- the same design which John Moses Browning famously fired

for a continuous 25 minutes until it ran out of ammunition, glowing

cherry red, at its first U.S. Army trial -- and did something for

which the weapon was never designed. Sgt. Paige walked down the hill

toward the place where he could hear the last Japanese survivors

rallying to move around his flank, the belt-fed gun cradled under his

arm, firing as he went. And the weapon did not fail.

Coming up at dawn, battalion executive officer Major Odell M. Conoley

was first to discover the answer to our question: How many able-bodied

Marines does it take to hold a hill against two regiments of motivated,

combat-hardened infantrymen who have never known defeat?

On a hill where the bodies were piled like cordwood, Mitchell Paige

alone sat upright behind his 30-caliber Browning, waiting to see what

the dawn would bring.

One Hill: One Marine.

But "In the early morning light, the enemy could be seen a few yards

off, and vapor from the barrels of their machine guns was clearly

visible," reports historian Lippman. "It was decided to try to rush the

position." For the task, Major Conoley gathered together "three enlisted

communication personnel, several riflemen, a few company runners who

were at the point, together with a cook and a few mess men who had

brought food to the position the evening before." Joined by Paige, this

ad hoc force of 17 Marines counterattacked at 5:40 a.m , discovering that

this extremely short range allowed the optimum use of grenades. They

cleared the ridge.

And that's where the unstoppable wave of Japanese conquest finally

crested, broke, and began to recede. On an unnamed jungle ridge on an

insignificant island no one had ever heard of, called Guadalcanal.

But who remembers, today, how close-run a thing it was -- the ridge

held by a single Marine, in the autumn of 1942? When the Hasbro Toy Co.

telephoned some years back, asking permission to put the retired Colonel's

face on some kid's doll, Mitchell Paige thought they must be joking.

But they weren't. That's his face on the little Marine they call "G.I.Joe."

And you probably thought that was an ARMY Doll....!!!

Freedom Is The Sure Possession

Of Those Who Have The Courage To Defend It

Link to post
Share on other sites

Great Post Don,

Here's "G.I.Joe's" story of that battle in his own words!!!

http://homeofheroes....tch/index2.html

Colonel Mitchell Paige

U.S.M.C. (Retired)

"My Story"

From the book

A Marine Named Mitch

About 0200, in a silence so pervasive that men many yards apart could hear each other breathing, I began to sense movement all along the front and deep in the jungle below us and to our left. We could hear the muffled clanking of equipment and periodically, voices hissing in Japanese. These were undoubtedly squad leaders giving their instructions. At the same time, small colored lights began flicking on and off throughout the jungle. I could hear Price whispering for me to come to his foxhole. I quietly crawled over to him and he had an excellent view of someone flicking a light on and off. Price said,
'I thought I was cracking up seeing all those fireflies.
' I assured him he was not cracking up because those were lights handled by Japanese soldiers.

As I crawled around telling the men to glue their eyes and ears to anything and reminded them that the small lights we were seeing were assembly signals for the enemy squads, I again instructed everyone not to fire their guns as the muzzle flash would give away our positions and that we would be raked with fire and smothered with grenades. We had to let them get closer as we were outnumbered, but when things started popping I urged each man to just hang on. Earlier Jonjock, Swanek and I stretched a piece of wire out in front of our position and hung several empty blackened ration cans on it. We put an empty cartridge case in each can which would rattle if hit by someone's foot.

I had previously requested an artillery and mortar concentration. This was, however, denied because the enemy was still in the jungle where the effect would almost be nil. I then returned to my foxhole. Manning my number two gun was Corporal Raymond 'Big Stoop' Gaston and Private Samuel 'Muscles' Leiphart. Their gun was at the part of our line which bordered on the side where the jungle came up to meet the ridge. They both whispered to me that there was considerable rustling very near to the undergrowth. I said, 'Hold your fire.'

Corporal Richard 'Moose' Stanberry arranged several grenades in a neat row in front of him, then nervously rearranged them. He was fond of his Thompson sub-machine gun and I never worried about him as he was well-trained, a perfectly disciplined marine who could handle himself in any situation. Now everyone was straining to hear and see.

The bushes rustled and the maddening voices continued their soft sibilant mutterings, but still nothing could be seen. Then I dimly sensed a dark figure lurking near Gaston's position. I grabbed a grenade, pulled the pin and held the lever ready to throw it. Around me I could hear the others also pulling pins as we did the night before. We heard the ration cans rattle and then somebody let out a shriek and instantaneously the battle erupted. Grenades were exploding all over the ridge nose. Japanese rifles and machine guns fired blindly in the night and the first wave of enemy troops swarmed into our positions from the jungle flanking Gaston's gun.

Stansberry was pulling the pins out of his grenades with his teeth and lobbing them down the slope into the jungle. Leiphart was skying them overhead like a baseball pitcher. The tension burst like a balloon and many men found themselves cursing, growling, screaming like banshees. The Japanese were yelling Banzai! and '
Blood for the Emperor!
' Stansberry, in a spontaneous tribute to President Roosevelt's wife, shouted back, '
Blood for Eleanor!
'

The battleground was lit by flashes of machine-gun fire, pierced by the arching red patterns of tracer bullets, shaken by the blast of shells laid down no more than 30 yards in front of the ridge by Captain Louis Ditta's 60mm Mortars. It was a confusing maelstrom, with dark shapes crawling across the ground or swirling in clumped knots; struggling men falling on each other with bayonets, swords and violent oaths. After the first volley of American grenades exploded the wave of Japanese crowding onto the knoll thickened. Pfc. Charles H. Lock was killed from a burst of enemy machine-gun fire.

I screamed, '
Fire machine guns! Fire!' and
with that all the machine guns opened up with all the rifles and tommy guns. In the flickering light, I saw a fierce struggle taking place for the number two gun. Several Japanese soldiers were racing toward Leiphart, who was kneeling, apparently already hit. I managed to shoot two of them while the third lowered his bayonet and lunged.

Leiphart was the smallest man in the platoon, weighing barely 125 pounds. The Japanese soldier ran him through, the force of the thrust lifting him high in the air. I took careful aim and shot Leiphart's killer.

Gaston was flat on his back, scrambling away from a Japanese officer who was hacking at him with a two-handed Samurai sword and grunting with the exertion. Gaston tried desperately to block the Samurai sword with a Springfield he had picked up off the ground, apparently Leiphart's. One of his legs was badly cut from the blows. The rifle soon splintered. The Japanese officer raised his sword for the killing thrust and Gaston, with maniac strength, snaked his good leg up and caught his man under the chin with his boon docker, a violent blow that broke the Japanese's' neck.

The attackers ran past Gaston's gun and spread out, concentrating their fire on the left flank gun, manned by Corporal John Grant, Pfc. Sam H. Scott and Willis A. Hinson. Within minutes, Scott was killed and Hinson was wounded in the head. Then Joseph A. Pawlowski was killed. Stansberry, who had been near me, was hit in the shoulder, but the last time I saw him he was still firing his tommy gun with ferocity and shouting, '
Charge! Charge! Blood for Eleanor!
'

Corporal Pettyjohn on the right, cried out in anguish, '
My gun's jammed!
' I was too busy to answer his call for help. At the center, we were beating back the seemingly endless wall of Japanese coming up the gentle slope at the front of the position. There were at that point approximately seventy-five enemy soldiers crashing through the platoon, most of them on the left flank, but the main force of the attack had already begun to ebb. The ridge was crowded with fighting men it seemed.

Somehow I vividly recall putting up my left hand just as an enemy soldier lunged at me with a fixed bayonet. He must have been off balance as the point of the bayonet hit between my little finger and the ring finger, enough to let me parry it off, and as he went by me he dropped dead on the ground.

The enemy started to melt back down the slope, and almost before they were out of sight, Navy Corpsmen began moving forward to treat the wounded. At Petty john's gun, James 'Knobby' McNabb and Mitchel F. 'Pat' Swanek were badly wounded and had to be moved off the line. Stansberry was still around and didn't want to leave. I crawled over to Pettyjohn's gun.

'What's wrong with it?'

Pettyjohn said '
a ruptured cartridge which refused to budge
'.

I said, '
Move over,
' and fumbled with stiff fingers, broke a nail completely off, but somehow pried the slug out with a combination tool, which I found in the spare parts kit under the tripod. I also changed the belt feed pawl, which had been damaged in the rough slamming trying to get the round out. Pettyjohn and Faust covered me.

Though the first assault had flopped, a number of enemy soldiers had shinnied to the top of the tall hardwood trees growing up from the jungle between the platoon and Fox Company's position. From this vantage point, they could direct a punishing, plunging fire down in two directions. The men in the foxholes along the crest were especially vulnerable; Bob G. Jonjock and John W. Price were wounded and helped back of the line by corpsmen.

I was getting ready to feed a new belt of ammunition into Pettyjohn's gun. My left hand felt very slippery so I rubbed it in the dirt under the tripod of the gun, then as I reached up to hold the belt again, I felt a sharp vibration and a jab of hot pain in my hand. I fell back momentarily and flapped my arm and stared angrily at the gun, which had been wrecked by a burst of fire from a Japanese Nambu light machine gun.

Almost immediately, a second assault wave came washing over our positions. This attack was more successful than the first. Oliver Hinkley and William R. Dudley were wounded. Hinson, over on the left gun and already wounded, continued to fire until all his supporting rifles were silenced. He then withdrew down around the hill in the rear of George Company, putting the gun out of action before he left as I had instructed.

That section had been hit hard with mortars and grenades, causing severe shock to all the men; one of the first being August P. Marquez. All the men on the spur had been literally blasted off, including Lieutenant Phillips, Bill Payne and John Grant.

In the Fox Company area back toward my left rear, I saw Fox Company men pulling out and disappearing over the crest. I picked up a Springfield and fired a shot at them, yelling for them to hold the line.

The Japanese swarmed up that seventy-foot cliff in great numbers, armed with three heavy and six light machine guns, a number of tommy guns and several knee mortars. I thought, "
Dear God, Major Conoley and his small command post are just over the crest,"
but here was the only grazing fire I had with my machine gun, so I quickly found Gaston's gun and swung it around toward our own lines as there was nothing between my gun and the crest but enemy soldiers.

I fired a full belt of ammunition into the backs of those crouching enemy, praying that they could not get over the crest to the command post. I learned later from Captain Farrell, who was with Colonel Hanneken's command post, that the word was that the enemy had one of Paige's fast firing machine guns and the rounds were ricocheting over the line over Major Conoley's position. He had also heard reports that all my men had been killed and in fact, some had seen me sprawled out dead on the ground before they left the ridge.

I learned later, too, that this information had gotten back to the Division Command Post.

By 0500 the enemy was all over the spur and it appeared they were going to roll up-the entire battalion front. A second prong of the attack aimed at our front had not fared as well, but my platoon was being decimated. A hail of shrapnel killed Daniel R. Cashman. Stansberry had been pulled back over the hill after being hit again.

I continued to trigger bursts until the barrel began to steam. In front of me was a large pile of dead bodies. I ran around the ridge from gun to gun trying to keep them firing, but at each emplacement I found only dead bodies. I knew then I must be all alone.

As I ran back and forth, I bumped into enemy soldiers who were seemingly dashing about aimlessly in the dark. Apparently they weren't yet aware they had almost complete possession of the knoll. As I scampered around the knoll, I fired someone's Springfield that I happened to pick up. Then somehow, I stumbled over into the right flank into George Company. There I found a couple of men I knew named Kelly and Totman. They had a water-cooled machine gun. I told them I needed their gun. At the same time, I grabbed it and they took off with me.

I said, '
Follow me!
' and ordered several riflemen to fix bayonets and to follow us to form a skirmish line back across the ridge. I told the riflemen not to be afraid to use the bayonet. We still had the 1905, 16-inch bayonets with the front end sharpened throughout its length and the back edge five inches from the point.

It was by then not quite as dark as it had been. Soon dawn would break. I knew that once the Japanese realized how much progress they had made, a third wave of attackers would come up the slope to solidify their hold on the hill.

On the way back I noticed some movement of Japanese on the ridge just above Major Conoley's position, which I had raked with grazing fire earlier. I fired Kelly's and Totman's full belt of 250 rounds into that area and once again the rounds were ricocheting over Conoley's head, but he had no way of knowing that I was doing the firing. He could only surmise that the enemy was now using our machine guns.

As we advanced back across the ridge, some of the Japanese began falling back. Several of them, however, began crawling awkwardly across the knoll with their rifles cradled in the crooks of their arms. Then I saw with horror that they were headed toward one of my guns, which was now out in the open and unmanned.

Galvanized by the threat, I ran for the gun. From the gully area, several Japanese guns spotted me and swiveled to rake me with enfilading fire. The snipers in the trees also tried to bring me down with grenades, and mortars burst all around me as I ran to that gun. One of the crawling enemy soldiers saw me coming and he jumped up to race me to the prize. I got there first and jumped into a hole behind the gun. The enemy soldier, less than 25 yards away, dropped to the ground and started to open up on me. I turned the gun on the enemy and immediately realized it was not loaded. I quickly scooped up a partially loaded belt lying on the ground and with fumbling fingers, started to load it.

Suddenly a very strange feeling came over me. I tried desperately to reach forward to pull the bolt handle back to load the gun, but I felt as though I was in a vise. Even so, I was completely relaxed and felt as though I was sitting peacefully in a park. I could feel a warm sensation between my chin and my Adam's apple. Then all of a sudden I fell forward over the gun, loaded the gun, and swung it at the enemy gunner, the precise moment he had fired his full thirty-round magazine at me and stopped firing.

For days later I thought about the mystery and somehow I knew that the 'Man Above' also knew what had happened. I never wanted to relate this experience to anyone, as I did not want to ever have anyone question it.

I found three more belts of ammunition and quickly fired them in the trees and all along the ridge. I sprayed the terrain with the remaining rounds clearing everything in sight. All the Japanese fire in the area was being aimed at me apparently, as this was the only automatic weapon firing from a forward position. The barrage, concentrated on the ridge nose, made me feel as if the whole Japanese Army was firing at me.

I was getting some help from our mortars control led by Battalion with the George Company Commander, Captain L.W. Martin, observing. These rounds laid on the spur and prevented the enemy from moving up which would have probably enveloped me from the rear. Other than this, I was still alone as my George Company friends were still behind me some distance.

In addition to being in this position, I had an immediate need of more ammunition and I couldn't see anymore lying around anywhere. Just at that time, aid came that made me glow with pride. Three men of my platoon voluntarily crossed the field of fire to resupply me.

The first one came up and just as he reached me he fell with a bullet in the stomach. Another one then rushed in and was hit in the groin just as he reached me too. He fell against me, knocking me away from the gun. Seconds later, Bob Jonjock, who had also been wounded earlier, came from somewhere with more ammunition. Just as he jumped down beside me to help load the gun, I saw a piece of flesh fly off his neck. He had been hit by an enemy bullet.

I told him to get back while I sprayed the area. He refused to leave. I said, '
Get the hell back, Jonjock!
' and he again said, '
No, I'm staying with you.
'

I hated to do it, but I punched him on the chin hard enough to bowl him over and convinced him finally that I wanted my order obeyed. He somehow made his way back as I was afraid he would bleed to death.

Meanwhile, Major Conoley, at the forward command post, was rounding up a ragtag force with which to retake the Fox Company spur. There were bandsmen serving as stretcher bearers, wiremen, runners, cooks, even mess boys, who had brought some hot food up to the front lines during the night and stayed just in case. Those men, numbering no more than twenty-four, mounted a counterattack up over the crest line that I fired some 500 rounds at. They found the Japanese machine guns and several of Fox Company's weapons, including three light machine guns, all in good working order. That counterattack found ninety-eight dead on the spur by actual count.

That was about 0530 or so. Dawn was already breaking. I was able to observe the progress of that charge from my position as I was directly out in their front. I also watched quite a few enemy soldiers scrambling back into the jungle, but I couldn't fire in that direction. As I watched that beautiful charge, it gave me the inspiration to get up and yell to my George Company fighters with their fixed bayonets to stand by to charge. I yelled out in Japanese to stand up: '
Tate! -- tah- teh, tah-teh
!', hurry: '
Isoge!' -- ee-soh-geh, ee-soh-geh!
'

Immediately a large group of Japanese soldiers, about thirty in all, popped up into view. One of them looked quizzically at me through field glasses. I triggered a long burst and they just peeled off like grass under a mowing machine.

At that point, I turned around to tell my friends I was going to charge over the knoll and I said, '
I want everyone of you to be right behind me,
' and they were. I threw the two remaining belts of ammunition that my men had brought me over my shoulder, unclamped the heavy machine gun from the tripod and cradled it in my arms. I really didn't notice the weight which was about a total of eighty pounds, and was no more aware that the water jacket of the gun was red hot.

I fed one of the belts into the gun and started forward, down the slope, scrambling to keep my feet, spraying a raking fire all about me. There were still a number of live enemy soldiers on the hillside in the tall grass, pressed against the slope. I must have taken them by surprise, as the gun cut them all down. One of them I noticed, was a field grade officer who had just expended the rounds in his revolver and was reaching for his two-handed sword. He was no more than four or five feet from me when I ran into him head on.

The skirmishers followed me over the rim of the knoll and they, too, were all fired up and were giving the rebel yell, shrieking and cat-calling like little boys imitating marines, sounding like there were a thousand rather than a mere handful.

They followed me all the way across the draw with fixed bayonets, to the end of the jungle, where long hours before, the Japanese attacks had started. There we found nothing left to shoot at. The battle was over.

The jungle was once again so still, that if it weren't for the evidence of dead bodies, the agony and torment of the previous hours, the bursting terror of the artillery and mortars rounds and the many thousands of rounds of ammunition fired, it might only have been a bad dream of awful death.

It was a really strange sort of quietness. As I sat down soaked with perspiration and steam still rising from my hot gun, Captain Louis Ditta, another wonderful officer who had joined the riflemen in the skirmish line and had earlier been firing his 60mm mortars to help me, slapped me on the back and as he handed me his canteen of water he kept saying, '
tremendous, tremendous!
' He then looked down at his legs. We could see blood coming through his dungarees. He had a neat bullet hole in his right leg.

There were hundreds of enemy dead in the grass, on the ridge, in the draw, and in the edge of the jungle. We dragged as many as we could into the jungle, out of the sun. We buried many and even blasted some of the ridge over them to prevent the smell that only a dead body can expel in heat. A corpsman sent by Capt. Ditta smeared my whole left arm with a tube of salve of some kind. He cleaned off the bayonet gash, since filled with dirt, and the bullet nicks on my hands also filled with dirt and coagulated blood. He stuck a patch on my back just below the shoulder blade. (In 1955, I felt something irritating in my back, and then had a piece of metal about 3/4 of an inch long removed from my back; right where the corpsman had placed that patch.)

As the corpsman left he said, '
You know, you have some pretty neat creases in your steel helmet.
'

I replied:

"Yes, thank God -- Made in America."

Link to post
Share on other sites

Great Post Don,

Here's "G.I.Joe's" story of that battle in his own words!!!

http://homeofheroes....tch/index2.html

Colonel Mitchell Paige

U.S.M.C. (Retired)

"My Story"

From the book

A Marine Named Mitch

About 0200, in a silence so pervasive that men many yards apart could hear each other breathing, I began to sense movement all along the front and deep in the jungle below us and to our left. We could hear the muffled clanking of equipment and periodically, voices hissing in Japanese. These were undoubtedly squad leaders giving their instructions. At the same time, small colored lights began flicking on and off throughout the jungle. I could hear Price whispering for me to come to his foxhole. I quietly crawled over to him and he had an excellent view of someone flicking a light on and off. Price said,
'I thought I was cracking up seeing all those fireflies.
' I assured him he was not cracking up because those were lights handled by Japanese soldiers.

As I crawled around telling the men to glue their eyes and ears to anything and reminded them that the small lights we were seeing were assembly signals for the enemy squads, I again instructed everyone not to fire their guns as the muzzle flash would give away our positions and that we would be raked with fire and smothered with grenades. We had to let them get closer as we were outnumbered, but when things started popping I urged each man to just hang on. Earlier Jonjock, Swanek and I stretched a piece of wire out in front of our position and hung several empty blackened ration cans on it. We put an empty cartridge case in each can which would rattle if hit by someone's foot.

I had previously requested an artillery and mortar concentration. This was, however, denied because the enemy was still in the jungle where the effect would almost be nil. I then returned to my foxhole. Manning my number two gun was Corporal Raymond 'Big Stoop' Gaston and Private Samuel 'Muscles' Leiphart. Their gun was at the part of our line which bordered on the side where the jungle came up to meet the ridge. They both whispered to me that there was considerable rustling very near to the undergrowth. I said, 'Hold your fire.'

Corporal Richard 'Moose' Stanberry arranged several grenades in a neat row in front of him, then nervously rearranged them. He was fond of his Thompson sub-machine gun and I never worried about him as he was well-trained, a perfectly disciplined marine who could handle himself in any situation. Now everyone was straining to hear and see.

The bushes rustled and the maddening voices continued their soft sibilant mutterings, but still nothing could be seen. Then I dimly sensed a dark figure lurking near Gaston's position. I grabbed a grenade, pulled the pin and held the lever ready to throw it. Around me I could hear the others also pulling pins as we did the night before. We heard the ration cans rattle and then somebody let out a shriek and instantaneously the battle erupted. Grenades were exploding all over the ridge nose. Japanese rifles and machine guns fired blindly in the night and the first wave of enemy troops swarmed into our positions from the jungle flanking Gaston's gun.

Stansberry was pulling the pins out of his grenades with his teeth and lobbing them down the slope into the jungle. Leiphart was skying them overhead like a baseball pitcher. The tension burst like a balloon and many men found themselves cursing, growling, screaming like banshees. The Japanese were yelling Banzai! and '
Blood for the Emperor!
' Stansberry, in a spontaneous tribute to President Roosevelt's wife, shouted back, '
Blood for Eleanor!
'

The battleground was lit by flashes of machine-gun fire, pierced by the arching red patterns of tracer bullets, shaken by the blast of shells laid down no more than 30 yards in front of the ridge by Captain Louis Ditta's 60mm Mortars. It was a confusing maelstrom, with dark shapes crawling across the ground or swirling in clumped knots; struggling men falling on each other with bayonets, swords and violent oaths. After the first volley of American grenades exploded the wave of Japanese crowding onto the knoll thickened. Pfc. Charles H. Lock was killed from a burst of enemy machine-gun fire.

I screamed, '
Fire machine guns! Fire!' and
with that all the machine guns opened up with all the rifles and tommy guns. In the flickering light, I saw a fierce struggle taking place for the number two gun. Several Japanese soldiers were racing toward Leiphart, who was kneeling, apparently already hit. I managed to shoot two of them while the third lowered his bayonet and lunged.

Leiphart was the smallest man in the platoon, weighing barely 125 pounds. The Japanese soldier ran him through, the force of the thrust lifting him high in the air. I took careful aim and shot Leiphart's killer.

Gaston was flat on his back, scrambling away from a Japanese officer who was hacking at him with a two-handed Samurai sword and grunting with the exertion. Gaston tried desperately to block the Samurai sword with a Springfield he had picked up off the ground, apparently Leiphart's. One of his legs was badly cut from the blows. The rifle soon splintered. The Japanese officer raised his sword for the killing thrust and Gaston, with maniac strength, snaked his good leg up and caught his man under the chin with his boon docker, a violent blow that broke the Japanese's' neck.

The attackers ran past Gaston's gun and spread out, concentrating their fire on the left flank gun, manned by Corporal John Grant, Pfc. Sam H. Scott and Willis A. Hinson. Within minutes, Scott was killed and Hinson was wounded in the head. Then Joseph A. Pawlowski was killed. Stansberry, who had been near me, was hit in the shoulder, but the last time I saw him he was still firing his tommy gun with ferocity and shouting, '
Charge! Charge! Blood for Eleanor!
'

Corporal Pettyjohn on the right, cried out in anguish, '
My gun's jammed!
' I was too busy to answer his call for help. At the center, we were beating back the seemingly endless wall of Japanese coming up the gentle slope at the front of the position. There were at that point approximately seventy-five enemy soldiers crashing through the platoon, most of them on the left flank, but the main force of the attack had already begun to ebb. The ridge was crowded with fighting men it seemed.

Somehow I vividly recall putting up my left hand just as an enemy soldier lunged at me with a fixed bayonet. He must have been off balance as the point of the bayonet hit between my little finger and the ring finger, enough to let me parry it off, and as he went by me he dropped dead on the ground.

The enemy started to melt back down the slope, and almost before they were out of sight, Navy Corpsmen began moving forward to treat the wounded. At Petty john's gun, James 'Knobby' McNabb and Mitchel F. 'Pat' Swanek were badly wounded and had to be moved off the line. Stansberry was still around and didn't want to leave. I crawled over to Pettyjohn's gun.

'What's wrong with it?'

Pettyjohn said '
a ruptured cartridge which refused to budge
'.

I said, '
Move over,
' and fumbled with stiff fingers, broke a nail completely off, but somehow pried the slug out with a combination tool, which I found in the spare parts kit under the tripod. I also changed the belt feed pawl, which had been damaged in the rough slamming trying to get the round out. Pettyjohn and Faust covered me.

Though the first assault had flopped, a number of enemy soldiers had shinnied to the top of the tall hardwood trees growing up from the jungle between the platoon and Fox Company's position. From this vantage point, they could direct a punishing, plunging fire down in two directions. The men in the foxholes along the crest were especially vulnerable; Bob G. Jonjock and John W. Price were wounded and helped back of the line by corpsmen.

I was getting ready to feed a new belt of ammunition into Pettyjohn's gun. My left hand felt very slippery so I rubbed it in the dirt under the tripod of the gun, then as I reached up to hold the belt again, I felt a sharp vibration and a jab of hot pain in my hand. I fell back momentarily and flapped my arm and stared angrily at the gun, which had been wrecked by a burst of fire from a Japanese Nambu light machine gun.

Almost immediately, a second assault wave came washing over our positions. This attack was more successful than the first. Oliver Hinkley and William R. Dudley were wounded. Hinson, over on the left gun and already wounded, continued to fire until all his supporting rifles were silenced. He then withdrew down around the hill in the rear of George Company, putting the gun out of action before he left as I had instructed.

That section had been hit hard with mortars and grenades, causing severe shock to all the men; one of the first being August P. Marquez. All the men on the spur had been literally blasted off, including Lieutenant Phillips, Bill Payne and John Grant.

In the Fox Company area back toward my left rear, I saw Fox Company men pulling out and disappearing over the crest. I picked up a Springfield and fired a shot at them, yelling for them to hold the line.

The Japanese swarmed up that seventy-foot cliff in great numbers, armed with three heavy and six light machine guns, a number of tommy guns and several knee mortars. I thought, "
Dear God, Major Conoley and his small command post are just over the crest,"
but here was the only grazing fire I had with my machine gun, so I quickly found Gaston's gun and swung it around toward our own lines as there was nothing between my gun and the crest but enemy soldiers.

I fired a full belt of ammunition into the backs of those crouching enemy, praying that they could not get over the crest to the command post. I learned later from Captain Farrell, who was with Colonel Hanneken's command post, that the word was that the enemy had one of Paige's fast firing machine guns and the rounds were ricocheting over the line over Major Conoley's position. He had also heard reports that all my men had been killed and in fact, some had seen me sprawled out dead on the ground before they left the ridge.

I learned later, too, that this information had gotten back to the Division Command Post.

By 0500 the enemy was all over the spur and it appeared they were going to roll up-the entire battalion front. A second prong of the attack aimed at our front had not fared as well, but my platoon was being decimated. A hail of shrapnel killed Daniel R. Cashman. Stansberry had been pulled back over the hill after being hit again.

I continued to trigger bursts until the barrel began to steam. In front of me was a large pile of dead bodies. I ran around the ridge from gun to gun trying to keep them firing, but at each emplacement I found only dead bodies. I knew then I must be all alone.

As I ran back and forth, I bumped into enemy soldiers who were seemingly dashing about aimlessly in the dark. Apparently they weren't yet aware they had almost complete possession of the knoll. As I scampered around the knoll, I fired someone's Springfield that I happened to pick up. Then somehow, I stumbled over into the right flank into George Company. There I found a couple of men I knew named Kelly and Totman. They had a water-cooled machine gun. I told them I needed their gun. At the same time, I grabbed it and they took off with me.

I said, '
Follow me!
' and ordered several riflemen to fix bayonets and to follow us to form a skirmish line back across the ridge. I told the riflemen not to be afraid to use the bayonet. We still had the 1905, 16-inch bayonets with the front end sharpened throughout its length and the back edge five inches from the point.

It was by then not quite as dark as it had been. Soon dawn would break. I knew that once the Japanese realized how much progress they had made, a third wave of attackers would come up the slope to solidify their hold on the hill.

On the way back I noticed some movement of Japanese on the ridge just above Major Conoley's position, which I had raked with grazing fire earlier. I fired Kelly's and Totman's full belt of 250 rounds into that area and once again the rounds were ricocheting over Conoley's head, but he had no way of knowing that I was doing the firing. He could only surmise that the enemy was now using our machine guns.

As we advanced back across the ridge, some of the Japanese began falling back. Several of them, however, began crawling awkwardly across the knoll with their rifles cradled in the crooks of their arms. Then I saw with horror that they were headed toward one of my guns, which was now out in the open and unmanned.

Galvanized by the threat, I ran for the gun. From the gully area, several Japanese guns spotted me and swiveled to rake me with enfilading fire. The snipers in the trees also tried to bring me down with grenades, and mortars burst all around me as I ran to that gun. One of the crawling enemy soldiers saw me coming and he jumped up to race me to the prize. I got there first and jumped into a hole behind the gun. The enemy soldier, less than 25 yards away, dropped to the ground and started to open up on me. I turned the gun on the enemy and immediately realized it was not loaded. I quickly scooped up a partially loaded belt lying on the ground and with fumbling fingers, started to load it.

Suddenly a very strange feeling came over me. I tried desperately to reach forward to pull the bolt handle back to load the gun, but I felt as though I was in a vise. Even so, I was completely relaxed and felt as though I was sitting peacefully in a park. I could feel a warm sensation between my chin and my Adam's apple. Then all of a sudden I fell forward over the gun, loaded the gun, and swung it at the enemy gunner, the precise moment he had fired his full thirty-round magazine at me and stopped firing.

For days later I thought about the mystery and somehow I knew that the 'Man Above' also knew what had happened. I never wanted to relate this experience to anyone, as I did not want to ever have anyone question it.

I found three more belts of ammunition and quickly fired them in the trees and all along the ridge. I sprayed the terrain with the remaining rounds clearing everything in sight. All the Japanese fire in the area was being aimed at me apparently, as this was the only automatic weapon firing from a forward position. The barrage, concentrated on the ridge nose, made me feel as if the whole Japanese Army was firing at me.

I was getting some help from our mortars control led by Battalion with the George Company Commander, Captain L.W. Martin, observing. These rounds laid on the spur and prevented the enemy from moving up which would have probably enveloped me from the rear. Other than this, I was still alone as my George Company friends were still behind me some distance.

In addition to being in this position, I had an immediate need of more ammunition and I couldn't see anymore lying around anywhere. Just at that time, aid came that made me glow with pride. Three men of my platoon voluntarily crossed the field of fire to resupply me.

The first one came up and just as he reached me he fell with a bullet in the stomach. Another one then rushed in and was hit in the groin just as he reached me too. He fell against me, knocking me away from the gun. Seconds later, Bob Jonjock, who had also been wounded earlier, came from somewhere with more ammunition. Just as he jumped down beside me to help load the gun, I saw a piece of flesh fly off his neck. He had been hit by an enemy bullet.

I told him to get back while I sprayed the area. He refused to leave. I said, '
Get the hell back, Jonjock!
' and he again said, '
No, I'm staying with you.
'

I hated to do it, but I punched him on the chin hard enough to bowl him over and convinced him finally that I wanted my order obeyed. He somehow made his way back as I was afraid he would bleed to death.

Meanwhile, Major Conoley, at the forward command post, was rounding up a ragtag force with which to retake the Fox Company spur. There were bandsmen serving as stretcher bearers, wiremen, runners, cooks, even mess boys, who had brought some hot food up to the front lines during the night and stayed just in case. Those men, numbering no more than twenty-four, mounted a counterattack up over the crest line that I fired some 500 rounds at. They found the Japanese machine guns and several of Fox Company's weapons, including three light machine guns, all in good working order. That counterattack found ninety-eight dead on the spur by actual count.

That was about 0530 or so. Dawn was already breaking. I was able to observe the progress of that charge from my position as I was directly out in their front. I also watched quite a few enemy soldiers scrambling back into the jungle, but I couldn't fire in that direction. As I watched that beautiful charge, it gave me the inspiration to get up and yell to my George Company fighters with their fixed bayonets to stand by to charge. I yelled out in Japanese to stand up: '
Tate! -- tah- teh, tah-teh
!', hurry: '
Isoge!' -- ee-soh-geh, ee-soh-geh!
'

Immediately a large group of Japanese soldiers, about thirty in all, popped up into view. One of them looked quizzically at me through field glasses. I triggered a long burst and they just peeled off like grass under a mowing machine.

At that point, I turned around to tell my friends I was going to charge over the knoll and I said, '
I want everyone of you to be right behind me,
' and they were. I threw the two remaining belts of ammunition that my men had brought me over my shoulder, unclamped the heavy machine gun from the tripod and cradled it in my arms. I really didn't notice the weight which was about a total of eighty pounds, and was no more aware that the water jacket of the gun was red hot.

I fed one of the belts into the gun and started forward, down the slope, scrambling to keep my feet, spraying a raking fire all about me. There were still a number of live enemy soldiers on the hillside in the tall grass, pressed against the slope. I must have taken them by surprise, as the gun cut them all down. One of them I noticed, was a field grade officer who had just expended the rounds in his revolver and was reaching for his two-handed sword. He was no more than four or five feet from me when I ran into him head on.

The skirmishers followed me over the rim of the knoll and they, too, were all fired up and were giving the rebel yell, shrieking and cat-calling like little boys imitating marines, sounding like there were a thousand rather than a mere handful.

They followed me all the way across the draw with fixed bayonets, to the end of the jungle, where long hours before, the Japanese attacks had started. There we found nothing left to shoot at. The battle was over.

The jungle was once again so still, that if it weren't for the evidence of dead bodies, the agony and torment of the previous hours, the bursting terror of the artillery and mortars rounds and the many thousands of rounds of ammunition fired, it might only have been a bad dream of awful death.

It was a really strange sort of quietness. As I sat down soaked with perspiration and steam still rising from my hot gun, Captain Louis Ditta, another wonderful officer who had joined the riflemen in the skirmish line and had earlier been firing his 60mm mortars to help me, slapped me on the back and as he handed me his canteen of water he kept saying, '
tremendous, tremendous!
' He then looked down at his legs. We could see blood coming through his dungarees. He had a neat bullet hole in his right leg.

There were hundreds of enemy dead in the grass, on the ridge, in the draw, and in the edge of the jungle. We dragged as many as we could into the jungle, out of the sun. We buried many and even blasted some of the ridge over them to prevent the smell that only a dead body can expel in heat. A corpsman sent by Capt. Ditta smeared my whole left arm with a tube of salve of some kind. He cleaned off the bayonet gash, since filled with dirt, and the bullet nicks on my hands also filled with dirt and coagulated blood. He stuck a patch on my back just below the shoulder blade. (In 1955, I felt something irritating in my back, and then had a piece of metal about 3/4 of an inch long removed from my back; right where the corpsman had placed that patch.)

As the corpsman left he said, '
You know, you have some pretty neat creases in your steel helmet.
'

I replied:

"Yes, thank God -- Made in America."

A great story from a brave US Marine.....thanks Skip :goodpost:

Link to post
Share on other sites
  • 4 weeks later...

Pearl Harbor after visiting hours

I did not know of this. Very interesting to watch...................

This is something I never knew and I feel that you
might like to see it.

Link to post
Share on other sites

post-300-0-51282300-1359123046_thumb.jpg

One Detroit mother is fighting to ensure that the dutiful dog who served alongside her son is buried in a national cemetery.

Mina is a male black lab who served nine tours of duty in Afghanistan and was promoted to sergeant before retiring from the Army, Fox 2 News reported. The dog served three tours with Michigan native Army Sgt. Corey McCourt.

"The dog sits in front of the bomb and my son, who does this, goes in and he disarms the bomb after the dog finds it," McCourt's mother, June Etlinger, told Fox 2 News.

But after developing a serious lung ailment at age 13, Mina was euthanized. And with her son still serving in the Army, Etlinger was tasked with finding a suitable final resting place for the canine hero. She'd like it to be Great Lakes National Cemetery in Holly, Mich.

"My father is buried there and my grandmother and grandfather are buried there. It's a beautiful cemetery and it's an honorable cemetery, and I just feel that Mina deserves that as well," Etlinger said.

But the cemetery official denied Etlinger's request. She said an official told her a canine burial is not allowed.

"I don't think he's ever been asked that question before, so he was kind of like no, we don't do that here," Etlinger said told the TV station.

For now, Mina's remains are secured at an animal hospital in Michigan, but Etlinger vows to continue to fight for a proper military burial for Mina.

"He may be a dog, but he's a soldier and he deserves it," she said.



Read more: http://www.foxnews.com/us/2013/01/24/michigan-military-cemetery-denies-burial-soldier-dog/?test=latestnews#ixzz2Izp4ZYyu

Link to post
Share on other sites

I sure hope they change their mind and treat Mina as a Veteran as it should be. Nine tours, wow

Link to post
Share on other sites

post-300-0-27547000-1359564794_thumb.jpg




TRIBUTE TO THOSE LEFT OUT THERE TO DIE

... written by Col. William Bauer,
USMC


The Battling Bastards
of Benghazi

We're the Battling Bastards of Benghazi,
no fame, no
glory, no paparazzi.
Just a fiery death in a blazing hell,
defending the
country we loved so well.


It wasn't our job, but
we answered the call,
fought to the consulate, and scaled the wall.
We
pulled twenty countrymen from the jaws of fate,

led them to safety,
and stood at the gate.



Just the two of us,
and foe by the score,
but we stood fast to bar the door.
We called for
reinforcement, but it was denied,

so we fought, and we
fought, and we fought, and we
died.



We gave our all
for our Uncle Sam,
and Obama didn't give a darn,
just two dead SEALS, who
carried the load,
no thanks to us, we were just
...

"BUMPS IN THE
ROAD"!!



Link to post
Share on other sites

darn tragic tribute to some of America's best

Link to post
Share on other sites

post-300-0-01345000-1359890276_thumb.jpg

Chris Kyle, a retired Navy SEAL and the U.S. military's most lethal sniper, was fatally shot Saturday along with another man on the gun range of Rough Creek Lodge, a posh resort just west of Glen Rose, Erath County Sheriff Tommy Bryant said.

The 25-year-old suspect was apprehended about five hours later in Lancaster, southeast of Dallas, more than 70 miles from the scene, Bryant said.

The suspect, identified as Eddie Ray Routh, 25, was pursued to a house in Lancaster by officers, including a local SWAT team. Routh again try to flee in a vehicle but was stopped about 9 p.m. after spikes were laid across a road, Bryant said.

"The suspect has been caught and is in custody in Lancaster," the sheriff said. Erath County sheriff's investigators and Texas Rangers were securing a capital murder warrant, he said.

Witnesses told sheriff's investigators that the gunman opened fire on the two men around 3:30 p.m., then fled in a pickup truck belonging to one of the victims. The sheriff's department didn't get a call until around 6 p.m.

The motive of the shooting remained unclear, Bryant said. "Not a clue; absolutely no idea."

WFAA/Channel 8 quoted unnamed sources as saying that Kyle of Midlothian and a neighbor had taken Routh on an outing to help him deal with post-traumatic stress disorder. Routh turned on the men and shot them in the back, the report added.

The sheriff said he could not confirm how the victims were shot.

In January 2012, the Cleburne Times-Review reported that Routh of Lancaster was arrested in Johnson county on a DWI charge. Public records showed Routh previously lived in Camp LeJeune, N.C., site of a major Marine base.

The 38-year-old Kyle, who leaves a wife and two children, was the author of a 2012 autobiography , American Sniper.

A 1992 graduate of Midlothian High School, he attended Tarleton State University and tried to join the Navy in 1996 but was rejected after a physical exam revealed pins in his arm from a rodeo injury.

Three years later, Kyle was working on a ranch in Colorado when a Navy recruiter called. He was trained as a sniper and served 10 years.

He never disclosed exactly how many enemy combatants he shot, but the Pentagon certified more than 150 of his kills during four combat tours of Iraq. Some news reports credited him with as many as 255. His confirmed kills exceeded the exploits of legendary Marine Carlos Hathcock, whom Kyle called "the best sniper in the world." Hathcock had 93 confirmed kills in Vietnam.

In all, he was awarded two Silver Stars, five Bronze Stars with Valor and two Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medals.

"I don't care about the medals," Kyle told the Star-Telegram in a 2012 interview. "I didn't do it for the money or the awards. I did it because I felt like it was something that needed to be done and it was honorable. I loved the guys."

A member of SEAL Team 3, Kyle picked off his targets from rooftops or windows of abandoned buildings during the 2003 war against Iraq, which toppled the Saddam Hussein regime. Primarily serving as a sniper and wounded twice, he provided "overwatch" protection for Marines and other U.S. troops and earned a reputation for his proficiency.

Most shots ranged from 200 to 1,200 yards. His longest, most remarkable kill -- from 1.2 miles away -- took out an insurgent aiming a rocket launcher at an approaching Army convoy.

During the second battle of Fallujah, Kyle said he killed about 40 insurgents. He shot several of them through an apartment window while lying atop an overturned baby crib.

From a second-story perch in Ramadi, Kyle spotted two men approaching on a motor scooter. As it slowed down, the rider in back removed a backpack and dropped it into a pothole, setting an improvised explosive device. As the scooter sped up, Kyle fired once from about 200 yards, taking aim at "cen

Link to post
Share on other sites

OMG...... Wish snopes said it was not true. RIP

Link to post
Share on other sites
  • 3 weeks later...


Definitely felt that
I had to pass this on to honor not only those fallen in battle but also those
who are actually providing this service on their own.


Santa
Barbara
, CA...

The first picture and the last picture
are taken at the beach in
Santa Barbara right next to the Pier. There is a
veterans group
that started putting a cross and candle for every death in
Iraq
and Afghanistan.The amazing thing is that they only do it on
the
weekends.

They put up this graveyard and take it down every weekend.

Guys sleep in the sand next to it and keep watch over it at night
so
nobody messes with it. Every cross has the name, rank and
D.O.B. and D.O.D.
on it.Very moving, very powerful.
So many young volunteers. So many 30 to 40
year olds as well.

Amazing!

The ACLU has filed a suit to have all
military cross-shaped
headstones removed.

post-300-0-40363300-1361386161_thumb.jpg

And that they filed another suit to end prayer from the military completely.post-300-0-34955000-1361386176_thumb.jpg

They're making great progress.

Keep forwarding this e-mail to others. I'm not breaking this one.post-300-0-93685500-1361386190_thumb.jpg

I'm asking that you not break it either.

If I get it a 1000 times, I'll forward it a 1000 times!
Prayer for our
soldiers... please don't break it!


GOD BLESS YOU FOR PASSING IT ON!

Link to post
Share on other sites
  • 2 weeks later...

US WWII veteran who captured Japan's Tojo dies; credited with keeping him alive to face trial

ALBANY, N.Y. – John J. Wilpers Jr., the last surviving member of the U.S. Army intelligence unit that captured former Japanese prime minister Hideki Tojo after World War II, has died at 93.

His son, John J. Wilpers III, told The Associated Press on Monday that his father died Thursday at an assisted living facility near his home in Garrett Park, Md.

The upstate New York native was part of a five-man unit ordered to arrest Tojo at his suburban Tokyo home on Sept. 11, 1945, nine days after Japan's surrender ended the war.

While the soldiers were outside, Tojo attempted to commit suicide by shooting himself in the chest. Wilpers ordered a Japanese doctor at gunpoint to treat Tojo until an American doctor arrived.

Tojo survived, was convicted of war crimes and was executed in December 1948.



Read more: http://www.foxnews.com/us/2013/03/04/us-wwii-veteran-who-captured-japan-tojo-dies-credited-with-keeping-him-alive-to/?intcmp=obnetwork#ixzz2N5ZwfBag

Link to post
Share on other sites
  • 1 month later...

Medal of Honor soldier killed in Korean War to receive hero's burial 62 years later
LtColFaithJr.jpg

  • Army Lt. Col. Don C. Faith Jr. was seriously injured by shrapnel on Dec. 1, 1950, in Korea and died a day later from those injuries.

The remains of a soldier awarded the Medal of Honor after being killed in the Korean War will be returned to his relatives for burial with full military honors more than 62 years after his death, officials announced this week.

Army Lt. Col. Don C. Faith Jr., of Washington, Ind., will be buried April 17 in Arlington National Cemetery, officials from the Department of Defense POW/Missing Personnel Office said.

“What’s so amazing is that our country doesn’t give up."

- Barbara “Bobbie” Broyles, Faith’s only child

Faith, a veteran of World War II who continued to serve in the Army during the Korean War, was seriously injured by shrapnel on Dec. 1, 1950, and died a day later from those injuries. But his body was not recovered by U.S. forces at the time.

He was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor, the United States’ highest military honor recognizing personal acts of exceptional valor during battle.

“What’s so amazing is that our country doesn’t give up,” Barbara “Bobbie” Broyles, Faith’s only child, told FoxNews.com on Wednesday. “They keep looking for the missing and the prisoners of war and people who are unaccounted for in battles.”

Broyles, her husband and the couple’s three children will travel to Washington next week for her father’s burial. And with the current political climate in North Korea, she said it’s “particularly important” to remember veterans of the Korean War.

“It’s now just becoming apparent how critical the Battle of Chosin was,” Broyles told FoxNews.com in reference to conflict along the eastern side of the Chosin Reservoir from Nov. 27 to Dec. 1, 1950. “We sacrificed a lot to help Korea.”

At the time of his death, Faith and his unit — 1st Battalion, 32nd Infantry Regiment — were attached to the 31st Regimental Combat Team as it advanced along the eastern side of the Chosin Reservoir in North Korea.

During attacks by the Chinese People’s Volunteer Forces, Faith assumed command with his supervisor missing, and he continuously rallied his troops, personally leading an assault on an enemy position, defense officials said.

In 2004, a joint team from the U.S. and North Korea surveyed the area where Faith was last seen and located his remains. To confirm the find, scientists used circumstantial evidence, forensic identification tools and mitochondrial DNA, using samples from Faith's brother for comparison.

“I’m incredulous,” Broyles, a 66-year-old psychotherapist, said when reached at her home in Baton Rouge, La. She praised Department of Defense scientists and researchers for their relentless work. “He’s been missing for 62 years and it’s a wonderful, wonderful thing that he’s been found.”

More than 7,900 Americans remain unaccounted for from the Korean War, U.S. defense officials said.



Read more: http://www.foxnews.com/us/2013/04/13/medal-honor-soldier-killed-korean-war-hero-burial/#ixzz2QOAPlJ5L

Link to post
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.


×
×
  • Create New...