November 22, 1963--a memory from 56 years ago

 When I left home for Arlington High School on Friday, November 22, 1963, it didn’t seem an extraordinary day.  School went normally until afternoon when I was in Reading Lab.  This was a required nine-week course for Freshmen, to help us increase our reading speed.  I didn’t mind the class, because we got to spend most of our time reading library books of our choice in special reading carrels where a light shined on the lines of the book at increasingly rapid speeds to force us to speed up.
   I was deeply engrossed in a good book when the school PA system came on.  This was unusual since most announcements were made during homeroom before third period.  After a short burst of static, the principal usually came on to give us whatever announcement he had, but this time, nothing came on except screaming and sounds of hysteria.  We couldn’t figure out what was going on.  The teacher was as confused as we were.  Several minutes later, an intelligible voice at last rose above the uproar and said, “President Kennedy has been shot”.
   In disbelief, we listened hopefully for word that his injuries were being successfully treated.  Schoolwork was forgotten for the day as we sat in stunned silence.  Later it was confirmed that he was dead. 
   On the day of his funeral, school was cancelled so we could stay home and watch the events of the day on television.  What a solemn occasion it seemed.  In many ways, he was such an idealistic president, and when he died so tragically and suddenly, it seemed like part of the American dream died with him….or, perhaps it was just the rose-colored glasses of my childhood being cast aside.

Verlin Clark Stephens - WW II

Verlin Clark Stephens - WW II

Pearl Harbor

   World War II began in the fall of 1939.  I was then 16 years old and felt that it would be over soon enough for me to avoid it because of my age.  By the time the US entered the conflict, I was 18 years old and of prime age for military duty.  The day of the attack on Pearl Harbor, I was washing dishes in the Utah State Agricultural College (USAC) cafeteria and kept hearing bits and pieces of news all day.
   The next summer jobs were plentiful and I got a job at the Quartermaster depot in Ogden. After a month there I got a chance to get a better job as a lookout for the Forest Service. However, the only way I could quit the QM job was with a doctor’s certificate which I got easily because I had lost my voice due to an allergy or infection.
   The year 1942-43 was a very important one for me.  When I returned to school it appeared evident that being drafted very soon was a very real possibility.  However, we were told that we could join the reserves and remain in school until we were really needed or graduated, so I signed up for the Naval Reserve in November.  In December, doctors from the various services came to give physical exams.  Shortly thereafter I was informed that I had failed the Navy exam due to a heart murmur.
   In April they decided the time had come to need the reserves, so they were all called to active duty—except me.  I got notice to go to Bushnell Army Hospital (in Brigham City) for another physical.  I guess I passed because I soon received a notice to prepare for a call by the Army.  I rushed around finishing school early so I would be ready  When school finished I still expected to be called up anytime and was very reluctant to take a job, so I stayed at school doing odds and ends.

Reporting for duty

   Finally I was ordered to active duty on July 16, 1943, at Fort Douglas. I was there for a few days. I didn’t know where I was going, but I thought it would be Fort Old, California, since that is where the other reserves had gone. Three days later we arrived at North Camp Hood, Texas.  It was 116ºF and the camp consisted of black tar paper covered buildings.  The buildings were all new. Our training field had corn stalks in it from the previous years’ crop. The water supply had just been condemned, so what water we used came from lister bags hanging in the sun and containing a generous portion of iodide.  When we were finally assigned to a company for training, our new commander made a bit hit by providing our lister bag with a chunk of ice.
 
Training

   I won’t go into details of basic training since it didn’t markedly effect subsequent events. Everyone in the unit was scheduled to go back to school under the Army Specialized Training Program (ASTP).  Somewhere along the line we were again given more tests and then an interview. I was told that I had qualified for the Junior year of engineering and could take my choice of electrical, civil or mechanical.  Also we were asked three states where we would want to go to school. I asked for Utah, Idaho or Colorado, and since I had no previous engineering, it was agreed (I thought) that I would be assigned to a one term review course.  When the time came to leave, we were all going to be separated and sent to the schools we had requested. We went almost straight north out of Texas, through Arkansas and the eastern edge of Kansas, and continued north finally into Canada, then southeast to our destination—New York City, which was far from the states I selected.  We were all assigned to Pratt Institute and lived in a public housing project near the Brooklyn Navy Yard.  My roommate was a young fellow named Burt Schultz and he was from New York City.  At the first opportunity we went to see his mother. She lived in a large apartment on Central Park West. I soon learned how the other half lived.  Burt’s father was vice president and general manager of Raytheon Corp., and in my eyes, they were rich. During World War II, Raytheon employees contributed to the war effort. They supplied 80 percent of the magnetron tubes used in U.S. and British radars and developed parts for the crucial proximity fuse in antiaircraft shells, among other equipment. Raytheon met urgent production needs for magnetron tubes used by Allied forces for radar defense, and produced the Sea Going (SG) microwave surface search radar that went on U.S. Navy ships. The SG provided vital situational awareness in the major battles in the Pacific and helped eliminate the submarine menace in the Battle of the Atlantic.
   The other good friend I made there was Harold Rasmussen. Harold was from Westfield, New Jersey. After he took me to his home for a weekend, I almost became a member of his family.  For the next two years I spent my weekends there whenever possible. They, too, were fairly wealthy by my standards, since Mrs. Rasmussen’s father had invented the disposable paper cup, and a holder for them. He had then established a company to make them. It had gradually expanded to make napkins, place mats, wall plaques, etc.
   As I mentioned, being assigned to advanced engineering turned out to be important for me. After one term, the ASTP program was closed and all those in the first two years and the review course were sent to the 86th Infantry Division on maneuvers in Louisiana.  The 86th was sent to Europe  and into combat on December 24th, 1944 during the Battle of the Bulge. A very large portion were killed in the first few hours. My friend, Harold Rasmussen, was wounded. He recovered and returned to combat for a few hours, only to be shot again—through the forearm. He lost most of the use of his wrist and was discharged but eventually recovered completely.

Signal Corps

   Those of us in electrical engineering were assigned to the Signal Corps. We went off to Camp Wood, New Jersey,  and were eventually assigned to school at Fort Monmouth which was only a few miles from Camp Wood. I requested to be in teletype repair school. This was about a three month course, but one could proceed faster. I think I finished school in about half the prescribed time and then became an instructor until the time came to return to Camp Wood.  Soon I was transferred to a signal company which was preparing to go overseas. As more or less a final fling, we were given a two week furlough and so I went home to Utah for the first time in 16 months.
   I had received a seven day furlough in New York, but it wasn’t long enough to go home, since the only practical means of travel was by train, and that took three days each way at best. I spent that time sightseeing and Christmas shopping. It was a very lonesome period, knowing that theoretically at least, I could have gone home.
   When I returned from furlough, I learned that plans had changed, and of five signal companies, only two were to remain.  Surprisingly, all of the teletype repairmen were left, so there were about 21 in our company when there was only need for seven.  All excess people  were transferred to the infantry.  To fill time, I was serving as the company clerk. We were stationed at Camp Edison, which was another small station a few miles south of Fort Monmouth.
   Meanwhile I continued to go to Westfield, New Jersey, for every available weekend, and the Rasmussen’s always insisted that I bring a friend.  There were several of us who enjoyed their love and friendship.
   As mail clerk it was my official duty to pick up orders for our unit each day. One day the orders were to send about 180 men to such and such infantry unit, (there were about 220 in our company at the time), so I felt certain that I would go, but surprisingly they sent nearly everyone but the teletype repairmen.
   Sometime later we all received orders to go to Philadelphia, to a place called Hog Island, and then to a course in radio teletype repair at the Brookline Country Club just west of Philadelphia.  We were returned to Hog Island.  Again we were promised an overseas assignment and sent home on furlough. When we returned, we were told that the plans had changed and most of the group was sent to an unknown destination. There were four remaining, and we were sent back to Camp Wood “to keep their teletypes in repair”.  Mostly we played pool.  We were housed with a company of Japanese interpreters.  One of the fellows decided he knew a way to find out our eventual destination by going to camp headquarters and asking to change his will.  He came back with the information that we were all going to Camp Beale, California, which was a replacement depot for the Pacific area.  Two days later, he left for Camp Beale..alone.  A few days later we were sent to Vint Hill Farms, Virginia, and rejoined most of the people who had left earlier. We found that the past year had been spent in getting top secret clearances and we were to be trained as code machine repairmen.
   After the school. we received furlough home in preparation to go overseas. By then the war in Europe was over, and while we were waiting for assignment, Japan surrendered. Small groups were sent out to various areas to work, and as each group left, they bragged that they would be released long before those who remained. One group was sent to the Far East. About two or three weeks later, we went to the airport at Agana, Guam, and welcomed them to the Pacific area.  They were sent to Seattle and put on a boat.  We left about a week later and had gone to San Francisco by train, then to Hawaii for four days, then to Guam by plane. 

Guam

   We left Hamilton Field about 10 PM on the night of September 2, 1945, which was the day the Japanese war was officially ended. It was my first plane ride in a ‘big’ plane called a C47. It was a new plane going to pick up wounded, so it had no seats. When it became light the next morning, one of the fellows became concerned that one of the wings seemed to be flapping. We assured him that it was normal (of course we really didn’t know any more than he did). We landed at Hickam Field without difficulty. The next day we rode by the airfield and saw that they had removed that particular wing from the plane. We decided that we had been very fortunate.  From Hawaii we flew to Johnson Island, then to Kwajalein and finally to Guam.
   Since the war was over, we never did do any code machine work. We did transfer a large amount of equipment, which had been dropped in a field during the battles to retake Guam, to a warehouse. I would guess most of it is still there.

Going Home

   Early in 1946 we left Guam on a transport ship, the Olmstead, and transferred to Saipan to begin the process of returning to civilian life. The camp on Saipan was on the opposite side of the island from the port. It took about four hours to go through the required processing. Then we waited and waited. There were frequent rumors of ships arriving to get us. Finally after about four days we loaded back into trucks and recrossed the island to find the Olmstead waiting for us. It was a Kaiser built ship and not really luxury. There were 2500 men on board. We slept in the cargo holds on canvas stretched on metal frames. As I remember, each bunk was about 24 inches wide and perhaps six feet long with about 15-18 inches to the bunk above. There were big garbage cans for those who became seasick. Not surprisingly, we spent as much time as possible on deck.
  Before I left for the Army, I had only tasted olives a few times and didn’t like them, but I acquired a real liking for them in the service. When we were getting ready to leave Guam, two of us ate a whole can to keep from throwing them away. A few hours later we were bouncing up and down with very heavy seas.  The propellers were coming clear out of the water when we pitched forward. Then they announced that dinner was ready. Most of the fellows I was with had long since lost their appetite, but I was hungry. By the time I got there, the line into the galley was long. As we moved up slowly, we passed a fellow who was so sick that he had vomited all over the deck and was sitting in it.  I lost some of my hunger but went on and finally reached the galley.  Food was served in trays and one stood at a table about waist high to eat.  As the ship rolled, some food spilled, and a few people added to it so that the deck was slippery and we slid back and forth as we tried to eat. I soon found what it was like to be seasick. I lost my acquired taste for olives and have never regained it.
   After two weeks at sea, we landed at Oakland, California, and in less than a day we were on our way to Utah on a troop train. Thank goodness that was my only experience on a troop train, a box car with bunks similar to the ship.  There was no air conditioning in those days and we had sailed across the Pacific in tropical weather. The train wasn’t really heated and we finally arrived in Salt Lake City in a snowstorm with the temperature near zero. After a day or so of processing, during which they tried to get us to reenlist, we were released from the Army.
   When I went into the Army, the first month or so I got $21 per month plus board and room and clothing. After that, congress raised the pay for a private to $50 per month, and when I was promoted to Private First Class, I got a raise to $55 a month.  Eventually I became a T/5 and got $66 per month for the rest of my time in the Army. 
   In those days there were no credit cards and very few checks. We were always paid in cash and there were no deductions for Social Security or income taxes. In the Army there was an officer assigned as pay officer. We had to step in front of him, salute, and he would count out our pay. We could have an allotment sent home.

Elverda Thiesfeld Lincoln - WWII - Women Also Served

Elverda Thiesfeld Lincoln - WWII - Women Also Served

Pearl Harbor

    I was eighteen years old when Pearl Harbor was bombed. Most people, including myself, didn’t know where Pearl Harbor was located. I was in the living room of our home, listening to the radio, when I heard the news that day…December 7, 1941. I was shocked and angry.  The following day, many young men, from all over the country, stormed the recruiting offices to join the military services.
    It wasn’t too long after Pearl Harbor that Pa and I left our Minnesota home to go to Washington where he had a job as a carpenter.  Ma and the rest of the family followed not long afterward.
   When the war started in 1941 until 1943, life in our family was changed in many ways. Rationing was one of the changes that took place then.  Gas, sugar, fats and some canned goods all were rationed. The war effort heightened everyone’s resourcefulness. Since there were so many children in our family we didn’t feel like rationing was a big deal. In fact, sometimes we had more of these items during the war than we did before or after. Each member of our family had their own ration book.
   Many men and women joined the services. Evidence of this was the existence of a plain blue small flag hung in windows of families who had sent a daughter or son off to war. A blue star was positioned on this flag for each member that had responded to their patriotic call.  Some were replaced with gold stars, representing a father or son who had been killed.
   Price controls affected everyone’s lives, especially in grocery stores. This was down to prevent price gouging. There was an expiration date on rationing stamps to prevent hoarding. Most stores willingly complied.
   Because of rationing, households were forced to use margarine due to the shortage of butter. It was white and looked like lard. Inside this bag was a large yellow pill that had to be broken and then kneaded into the white. When thoroughly mixed, it looked like butter, but was not as tasty. The reason for this chore was the farmer’s rebelled if the factory-made margarine made it look like butter and they feared the sales of real butter would hurt them financially. In a few years, the farmers quit complaining and now margarine is colored yellow and looks like real butter.
   I also remember hearing and reading about labor shortages resulting from the military’s demand for men, that left women to become not only riveters, but welders, mechanics, crane operators, truck drivers, gas station attendants, and bus drivers. At the same time, women continued to cook, clean, shop and care for their families.
   Children who could afford it used their allowances to buy defense stamps and war bonds. They also participated in scrap drives to collect aluminum foil, metal and worn out tires. These items were recycled into the war effort.
   I remember gas rationing and heard that this was done to keep people home. Fuel at gas pumps was under severe curtailment. For some people this restriction was difficult, especially young people wanting to drive around on Saturday nights for entertainment. The government imposed a nationwide speed limit of 35 miles an hour. Some people turned to the black market to obtain scarce items which usually meant paying higher prices.
   Due to the scarcity of some food products, “Victory Gardens” were planted in almost everyone’s back yard.  This relieved some of the stress of going without. It was a very successful program.
   On September 19, 1943, at the age of 20, I enlisted in the US Navy as a WAVE.  The initials of WAVES stood for Women Accepted for Voluntary Emergency Service.  Each time I walked past the post office in Yakima, Washington, where I lived, a large sign (about three feet by four feet) had an Uncle Sam pictured on it with his finger pointed at me saying I WANT YOU.  The sign was positioned on a sandwich board almost on the sidewalk.  There was no doubt it could be seen by everyone.  The more I walked around this sign the more I took the message to heart.
   At this time I was working a few days here and a few days there at various jobs and couldn’t stand any of them:  jobs like working in a fruit cannery cutting pears in half, a few days untangling twisted piles of clothes in a laundry, applying for a job as a waitress and never showing up for duty, and mostly being unemployed.

Off to New York



   One day I entered the Navy Recruiting Office and was informed the Navy was looking for girls with secretarial training which I had in high school.  I signed up, passed the physical with flying colors, and before I knew it, was on a troop train to Seattle to join nine other enlistees traveling to Hunter College in the Bronx, New York City.  Years later this same place became the headquarters of the United Nations.
   It took five days to cross the USA on a troop train.  The train was crowded with GIs on the way to the East Coast to report to embarkation points to serve in the European theater.  We girls didn’t have a seat assigned to us.  We spent all our time standing in the hallway, looking out the window or trying to get comfortable in any way we could inside the lavatory area.  This area was large enough that three of us took turns lying on the floor so we could get some sleep. None of us took advantage of any GI’s offer of a seat.  They were a rowdy, flirty bunch and we were scared of them.
   A Navy bus met us at the train station. We were a sleepy, exhausted, bedraggled lot.  An hour’s ride through New York City brought us to our dormitories, which were converted apartment complexes located outside the main gate of the college.
   Our day began at 4:30 in the morning and ended at 9:30 at night.  Boot camp was hard work, but I didn’t mind.  We learned how to march in formation, had classes, took tests to find out what categories we were qualified for, and various other duties as assigned.  Boot camp lasted four weeks.  When I was issued my uniform I felt great. I now was on equal par with all the other girls.  Pay was $50 a month.  My confidence soared.
   Weather in September in New York was hot and humid.  Girls passed out while marching in formation. We just walked over them and continued on. We had ten minutes to eat our meals and be back in formation.
   One day my platoon was last to be served lunch.  Ordinarily food was plentiful, but for some reason the main course ran out. In order to solve this dilemma, trays of meat left over from the night before were reheated and served. About an hour later, recruits were passing out one after another and some were suffering from severe stomach pains. We were herded back to our quarters to recuperate from our ailments. We were sick all night, but the next morning we were back on duty.  we were diagnosed with ptomaine poisoning.
   The afternoon of the last Saturday of boot camp, we were given permission to go downtown.  We were an excited bunch of women, and spent an enjoyable time, visiting Rockefeller Center, Times Square, Empire State Building, St. Patricks Cathedral and the Little Church Around the Corner. We admired the Statue of Liberty from afar, trying not to get lost, and worrying about getting back on time.  Of course, we all had to load up on souvenirs and postcards.
   During that last week we were all herded into an auditorium to attend a musical performance put on by Frank Sinatra. He was so skinny that we couldn’t tell the difference between him and the microphone.  Hours before this program we were given instructions to keep the noise level low-key. In fact, we were not allowed to remove our white gloves, no standing, no hollering, whistling or any other kind of loud exclamation.  This performance was one of the first ones put on by Frank.  Afterward, he disappeared through a back door, was escorted into a limousine by bodyguards, and we quietly returned to our barracks.  Life Magazine published this event, so we knew it was a big deal.

   When boot camp was over (one month later), I was sent to Cedar Falls, Iowa, for a three month crash course in advanced secretarial work which I really enjoyed. I took an aptitude test and passed it with high marks. My three years of typing and shorthand in high school finally paid off.  I met many girls from all parts of the United States, but never became close with any of them.  I was too shy.
   During this schooling, I was anxious to know where I would be serving the remainder of my enlistment. Students could request duty anywhere in the US.  If there was a vacancy they were sent there.  I requested the West Coast.

Back to the West Coast

   My first duty station was downtown Seattle where I was assigned to an aircraft control center. I climbed ladders to put colored pins on a huge wall map so the officers would know the exact location of ships and planes at sea. The radioman of each plane called our office at least every hour giving their exact location. The planes were on constant alert for possible enemy activity.
   Next door to our office was the Russian Embassy. The lone officer on duty came into our office once or twice a week just to look around. He looked impressive in his white uniform. He never stayed long and never spoke to anyone. We used to think he was just lonesome. We never knew if he spoke English or if he gathered any information while strolling through our office. We felt very uncomfortable whenever he was around.
    Less than a year later, I was transferred to Tongue Point Naval Air Station, Astoria, Oregon. By this time the war in the Pacific was going full force. As ships came into port in Astoria, the Navy communications manuals were brought to our office for updating. New coding was inserted, deletions and corrections were made, and old outdated books were replaced by new books.  I clearly remember coding a great number of radio signals in manuals for the Battle of Iwo Jima and the possible invasion of the Aleutian Islands in Alaska. The significance of this coding was not realized until after the Battle of Iwo Jima. Up to this time I was nonchalantly performing my assigned duties, but it really hit me hard when I found out the importance of what I was doing.  I also typed court martial papers for sailors who were not being good boys. No typing errors were allowed on those papers, and if I made a typing error, I had to start over.
   Sailors and ensign officers from the communications  sections of their ships were detailed to our office to help bring coding data up to date, while their ships were in port for repairs or supplies.  The WAVES called these young ensigns 90-day-blunders. They were younger than us and had no experience. The men from these ships were awestruck that women were in the Navy doing work that was vital. Most of the men did not resent the WAVES, but they could not get used to the fact the Navy had women replacing men that were so badly needed at sea. We enjoyed the sailors company and had some good times in spite of the fact it was wartime.
   Looking out the windows of our office, we saw shipload after shipload of lumber leaving the harbor bound for Russia when our own country was so badly in need of lumber for building homes.
   It was common knowledge that unidentified submarines were lurking in the waters off the coast of Oregon. After a few days the submarines disappeared.  It was said every inch of the United States shoreline was mapped and photographed by the Japanese.
   My next duty station was in Portland, Oregon. Our office was a converted scow moored in the Willamette River. Conventional office space in downtown buildings was impossible to rent. Every time a small ship or barge went up or down the river near our scow, we could hear the water in the bilges sloshing to and fro.  This time I worked with teletypes. We sent messages, mostly to shore stations along the coast and to Marine Headquarters in San Francisco.
   The Marine Corps had their recruiting office within walking distance of our office. They used the Navy’s teletype to send messages to their main office in San Francisco. Their runners for this job came to our office every morning to deliver and receive any messages. One of those runners was Bob Lincoln.
   I thoroughly enjoyed my 34 months in the Navy. Now whenever I think about those days, I realize this was a time of great transition in my life.  I was away from home and on my own.  I gained self esteem and confidence and found out what the working world was all about.
   I made many friends. Two of them, Opal from Pennsylvania and Glee from Wisconsin remained friends and kept in contact for many years.
   When the war finally ended, the GIs were welcomed home and they started a new life.  We at home had done everything asked of us to help our men on the fighting front.

USMC - Robert Lincoln

USMC - as told by Robert Lincoln

Making a Marine

    I went to Seattle for my physical examination to join the Marines on the 24th of September 1940.  That night I boarded the train for San Diego, California.  It took two days for the train to get there.  My years of regimentation had come.  It began the second I stepped off the train.  A Marine gunnery sergeant took charge of us.  We boarded a bus and were taken to the Recruit Depot, and was turned over to what was called a Drill Instructor (DI).
   Things weren’t too bad the first day because it was quite late.  The next morning at 0400, boot camp had started.  Time went slow but we were drilled and run so much we really were too tired to pay much attention to time.  In eleven weeks we were ready to go to the rifle range at La Jolla, California.  I thought I knew where my muscles were, but after snapping in on the different shooting positions, I found I had many more aching muscles.  The time at the rifle range lasted one week.  I came back a marksman.  It was much less than I had expected, because record day, I blew it.
   It was at the rifle range that I found out how rough a DI could get.  We lived in two-man tents in rows and a duck walk (row of boards used like a sidewalk) in between rows. One evening about nineteen hundred (7 PM), Sergeant Ballard fell us all out in front of our tents at attention.  He walked down the duck walk in between the two rows of tents and asked each of us if we had washed our skivvies, which were our shorts and “T” shirts.  Everyone said, “Yes,” except my bunkie  (the other one who occupied the tent) and I.  Sgt. Ballard sneered and said, “Why not?”
   There was only one true answer, each one of us said, “Because we are wearing one pair, and we did wash the other two pairs.”
   He said, “Strip off all your clothes, get your bucket and kiyi brush for scrubbing clothes, fill the bucket with cold water and report to my tent.”  What could we do?  That’s exactly what we done.
   Now out at the rifle range in November it can get chilly, especially when you get used to the hot weather.  We done as ordered and came up to his tent and knocked on the tent pole.  The Sarg said, “Who is there?”  I said,  “Private Lincoln reporting as ordered sir.”  My bunkie said the same thing.  The sergeant said, “Come in.”  He was sitting there and talking to another DI.  They continued to talk and ignored us still standing at attention with our buckets and kiyi brushes in our hands.
   In a situation like that a person feels pretty insignificant and unnecessary to say the least.
   Finally Sgt. Ballard said to the other DI, “isn’t that the crumbiest SOB you ever seen?”  The other sergeant agreed that we were.  Then Sgt. Ballard took us about one hundred yards from the tents in the dark and poured about half of the water over our heads, then took sand and threw all over us, then poured the rest of the water over us and said, “Now take your brushes and scrub yourselves, then go to the bathhouse and take a cold shower.
   We didn’t waste any time complying with his henhouse order.  I’m sure he waited until after dark because no other DI or authority could see what he was doing.  You can rest assured that both of us washed all three pairs of skivvies and wore one of them wet until we graduated from boot camp.  We were the only one that told the truth and the only ones who got punished.
   We returned to the Marine Corps base on a Saturday morning.  Sunday we were marched to church at the base chapel, the first and only time we were made to go to church.  The chaplain’s  sermon was on the honorable profession of a soldier.
   The next Monday we were placed on one of the regiments of the 2nd Brigade.  I went to Headquarters and Service Company, 1st Battalion, 8th Marines.  I was in an 81 millimeter mortar squad.  It was hard work in the field but I liked it.  In January of 1941 I again went to the rifle range at La Jolla.  Again I only made marksman.
   About February 1941 the 2nd Marines were reactivated which made the 2nd Brigade the 2nd Division.  I was put in E Company, 2nd Battalion, 2nd Marines as a rifleman.  Later I became squad leader of a sixty millimeter mortar squad because I had previous training with 81 millimeter mortars.  This position I held until September 1942.

Pearl Harbor and Midway

   I was on liberty in San Bernardino, California, when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, Territory of Hawaii.  A California state policeman got myself and my friend a free ride on a Greyhound bus back to San Diego.  We were stationed at Camp Elliott at the time. A few days later I was advanced to corporal.  I had been acting in that capacity for about four months.
   It was a few days thereafter that the company I was in was changed to the 22nd Provisional Company and we boarded ship on January 9, 1942, on our way overseas somewhere.  We were under sealed orders until after we passed Hawaii.  Then we found out we were headed to Midway Island.
   The ship we were on from San Diego to Pearl Harbor was the President Harrison.  We had no escort.  One of the crew of the ship was a friend of mine who went to high school with me.  We were one day out of Pearl Harbor, when the aircraft carrier Yorktown came out from Pearl Harbor to escort us in.  It got torpedoed and had to return.  We got a torpedo fired at us.  It crossed our wake about 30 feet astern.  Late that evening we tied up at Pearl Harbor (Jan. 17, 1942), disembarked and stayed that night at the Marine Barracks, Pearl Harbor.  We were under blackout conditions.  It was quite a trick finding your way around in the dark in a place you had never been before.
   We got settled down and some went over to Hickam Field and drank the Army’s beer.  The debris at Hickam Field had not been cleaned up from the bombing yet.  It was a mess.
   Next morning we boarded the Marine transport, William Ward Burroughs, and headed out to sea again.  This is when we found out we were going to Midway Island.  I didn’t know where it was at that time.
   I was on aircraft watch on the afterdeck.  I was posted at 0800.  I wasn’t relieved until midnight.  I wouldn’t have been relieved then if I hadn’t been caught asleep by the Officer of the Deck.  I don’t remember going to sleep, but I sure remember waking up!  The Officer of the Deck kicked me in the ribs as I was laying on the deck.  I was doing duty on a .50 caliber machine gun. I was threatened  with a General Court Martial and being shot because we were at war.  After they found out how long I had been on duty, he changed his mind and woke my company commander up and read him off.  Nevertheless, I was scared.
   On January 22, 1942, we arrived and tied up at the pier on Sand Island which is the largest atoll of Midway.  We were a small detachment of Marines that was sent there to support the 6th defense battalion that was to defend Midway Island.  We had no sooner tied up than a Jap sub surfaced.  It had been following us.  A Marine dive bomber was in the air at the time on patrol and spotted it.  The sub was sunk by the dive bomber.  Midway was to be my home until September 17, 1942.
   It was a very dreary place to be.  In February it rains a lot and the landscape was sand and scaveola brush that was about four feet high.  There was a few ironwood trees on Frigate Point that was planted by the Pan American Airways in the 1930s.  Sand Island which I was stationed on, was one mile long and three-quarters wide and shaped like a pork chop.  It was easy to see it as something to eat because all we got was two meals a day.

The Clowns of Midway

   In early February the gooney birds started to come in, at first a few each day, then by the hundreds.  Black ones and white and black ones.  The black gooney are black-footed albatross and the white and black ones are layman albatross.  Both varieties are very graceful while in the air, but when they land, they come down by a belly landing, especially when they first come off the ocean.  They had been flying for so long that their legs were weak, but they never really got over the habit of crash landing.  They were very tame and a person could walk up to them and pick them up, but you were sure to get bitten.  They had a long and strong bill and knew how to use it.
   We got a kick out of playing tricks and pestering them.  One time a Marine painted the rising sun on one of them and the stars and stripes on another.  The one with the rising sun disappeared and was never seen again.  The other one stayed around  and the paint finally wore off.
   The gooney would lay one egg.  When it hatched the chick would stay in the nest which was only an indentation in the sand.  They looked like a goose gosling with pin feathers all over their bodies.  They would stand straight and looked like a little sentinel.  It was great fun to put a lighted match under their bellies and watch the pin feathers burn off like a flash fire.  It didn’t seem to hurt them.  They fire would not burn their heads so they would look like a little buzzard standing in their nest.  If the skipper would have seen us, it would have been a court martial; for even then, Midway was a bird sanctuary. 
   Our latrine consisted of a slit trench, one foot wide and two feet deep, and as long as was wanted, and also a two inch pipe driven in the sand with a funnel in the top.  One of the men in my platoon was using the slit trench when a very inquisitive gooney bird wanted to investigate those buns hanging over the slit trench.  They gooney came up behind and with his strong bill took a chunk out.  Needless to say, Chick Williams couldn’t sit down properly for quite some time.
   There was thousands of birds on Midway of many different species, gooney birds being only one of them.  There were Sooty Terns, Moaning Birds, Kiwis that had been imported from New Zealand, Bosun Birds, Frigate Hawks, and many others.  Moaning Birds burrowed in the sand, and when the tide was a little too high, many of them would drown.
   The first night I was on Midway, I thought someone was dying.  We all kept hearing this moaning.  We found out later that it was the Moaning Birds.  In the evening the Sooty Terns  would line up but the hundreds.  We waited until after dark and then ran through them to watch them fly up from the ground and make such a racket.  It seems childish now, but it was great fun then.  After all, there was nothing else to do.
   The gooney birds were a problem on the runway.  Planes would take off down the runway and so would a gooney.  The gooney birds would get in the propeller.  There would be blood and feathers all over the plane.  It was decided that in case of an emergency, that wouldn’t be so good.
    Authorities decided to have the infantry troops organize into killing parties.  We loaded into three PT boats and was taken over to Eastern Island where the airstrip was, all armed with our machetes.  It was so easy to cut their heads off.  They couldn’t fly away from us and then had a long neck.  All one had to do was give a hard swing.  One part of a day was enough because most of the men got sick to their stomachs.  We had been trained to kill someone that could shoot back, but not helpless birds.

Life on Midway

   We made all our own underwater obstacles, barbed wire entanglements, and anti-personnel mines.  We would get terrible headaches from making land mines because of the nitroglycerin.  We had to break dynamite open and pack the powder in a 4” by 4” box with an electric cap and battery.  It was a touchy job.  Maybe the reason we had to do it was so we would take our headaches out on the enemy.
   In June 1942, the Japanese attacked Midway Island.  The main attack force was destroyed before they could complete their plans.  The US Navy aircraft (we didn’t know they were in the area) succeeded in sinking the Japanese aircraft carriers.  We were heavily bombed and strafed.  One oil tank was destroyed by fire as was the hospital by an incendiary bomb.  I suppose it was set afire by the enemy to light up the beach for their infantry landing, but it didn’t occur because their ships were sunk.  When the battle was over in three days, we had no Marine dive bombers left, just one fighter (land based) but we had beat the Japs.  There was a few casualties among the ground troops.  This battle turned out to be the decisive battle of the Pacific with Japan.
   We buried all our dead at sea.  They were put in a canvas bag with some scrap iron.  We took the bodies about ten miles out to sea on a barge and slid them over the side into the water.
   Every ship that came to Midway was covered with khaki uniforms, so it seemed, because of the rumors we were being relieved of duty there.  When the ship docked, we found out there was no relief troops aboard.
    It finally happened.  We were relieved on September 17, 1942.  The Marines who relieved us had all new 37mm and and 90mm guns to replace our .50 caliber and 3” guns which were originally from the cruiser Chicago.
   The Japs never came back again.  We were underway within two hours of our boarding the ship.  I can’t remember the name of the ship.  It was an uneventful trip to Pearl Harbor.  We arrived at Mary’s Point at 10:19 AM on September 22, 1942.  I missed the ‘anchor pool” by one minute.  The anchor pool was an event where you guessed the exact minute the ship would dock at a port.
   
     Bob also shared some further stories with his son, Roger.  He says they were warned a couple of days in advance that the Japanese were coming.  That was a scary prospect because the number of defenders on the two islands was probably between 800-1000.  They had the might of the Japanese Navy and troops coming at them. If the Battle of Midway (mostly a sea battle) had not been won, the defenders of Midway could very likely have been wiped out.
   Bob was stationed near the water tower.  It was being used as an observation post.  He was supposed to be going up to the top, but it was struck and fell over before he could climb it.  He was under it when it fell over.  He was not injured when it fell.  In the original 1976 movie, this event is shown, but not in the 2019 movie.  After watching the 1976 version he commented, “Hollywood got it right.”
   The Japanese air attack on the island was low level.  As one Japanese pilot strafed them, he was so low they could see his face.  As he passed over them, he gave them the finger.  They watched him pass over and make a long loop to make a second pass.  When he came around for the second time, every rifle, automatic rifle, pistol, tommy gun and machine gun within range was waiting for him.  His plane was shredded on the second pass and crashed into the ocean.
   Sometime after the battle, the commanding officer of the Marines personally gave everyone in his command a silver dollar.  That was over $400, a rather large sum in 1942.  How he got that many silver dollars is a mystery.  Sadly, Bob lost his some months later in a dice game.  One of his regrets in life is that he let that happen instead of keeping it.
   
Two letters included with Robert’s papers:

THE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY
          WASHINGTON

The Secretary of the Navy takes pleasure in commending the SIXTH DEFENSE BATTALION, FLEET MARINE FORCE, REINFORCED, for service as follows:
    “For outstanding heroism in support of military operations prior to and during the Battle of Midway, June 1942.  Assuming a tremendous operational and service load in preparing defenses of Midway against anticipated Japanese attack, the officers and men of the SIXTH Defense Battalion: carried on intensive night battle training, completed and installed underwater obstacles, unloaded and distributed supplies, emplaced guns and constructed facilities for stowing ammunition and for protecting personnel.  Alert and ready for combat when enemy planes came in to launch high and dive-bombing attacks and low-level strafing attacks on June 4, they promptly opened and maintained fire against the hostile targets, promptly opened and maintained fire against the hostile targets, downing 10 planes during the furious 17-minute action which resulted in the destruction of the Marine galley and mess-hall, equipment, supplies and communications facilities.  Working as an effective team for long periods without relief, this Battalion cleared the debris from the bomb-wrecked galley, reestablished disrupted communications, and serviced planes, thereby contributing greatly to the success of operations conducted from this base.  The high standards of courage and service maintained by the  SIXTH Defense Battalion reflect the highest credit upon the United States Naval Service”

All personnel attached to and serving with the SIXTH Defense Battalion, Fleet Marine Force, Reinforced, consisting of the SIXTH Defense Battalion, 22nd and 23rd Provisional Marine Companies and “C” and “D” Companies of the Second Raider Battalion are authorized to wear the NAVY UNIT COMMENDATION RIBBON.
 -/S/ JOHN L. SULLIVAN
Secretary of the Navy

HEADQUARTERS
SIXTH DEFENSE BATTALION
FLEET MARINE FORCE
30 May, 1942
BATTALION INSTRUCTION MEMORANDUM
NUMBER 3—1942
IMPENDING ATTACK BY JAPANESE FORCES
Information available indicates that the Japanese plan an all-out-attack on Midway with a view to its capture.  This attack may start any hour now.
Our job is to hold Midway.  We are to have assistance of other forces to help us do our job. Our aviation forces have been strongly reenforced.  Daily long range patrols are made to locate hostile forces and track them to within striking distance of our air force.  One of our most important jobs, therefore, is to protect our aircraft on the ground and in the water against hostile attack.  As long as we keep our aircraft flying they can work on hostile carriers, transports and other surface craft.  We must not let our aircraft be attacked while on the ground, taking off or being serviced.  We must also be careful not to fire on our own planes.  Keep cool, calm and collected; make your bullets count.
Once the air attack starts, it is likely that the Japs will try to make it a succession of bombing and strafing attacks in order that our planes will have difficulty refueling.  It is our job to make these attacks as costly as possible by accurate fire and destruction of hostile planes.  At night we will probably be bombarded.  Our torpedo boats will help attack hostile ships.
After the Japs figure that our air force is out and that defensive installations have been sufficiently weakened, they will attempt a landing.
This is the first time the Japs have attempted to take an American fortified place so far from their bases.  This time they are coming to us and we have the opportunity of a lifetime to reflect glory on our Corps and ourselves by not only accomplishing our mission but also by the damage and destruction we can inflict on the enemy. The better we do our job, the sooner the war will be over.
Be alert and on your toes. Don’t unnecessarily expose yourself or fire prematurely.  Keep cool. There will be a lot of banging and booming but don’t let this confuse you. In a battle the odds may seem to be against you for a time and things may appear to be going badly for our side, but always remember that the enemy is in a worse fix than you are. A torpedo, bomb or shellfire may sink a ship of boat but our islands will still be here when it’s all over. It is the tenaciousness on the part of the individual soldier and the will to win, coupled with cool and deliberate action and shooting that wins battles.  Don’t fire land mines prematurely.  Much of the effect of land mines depends on the firer keeping his head and firing the right string at the right time.  We must also be alert against parachute troops and troops endeavoring to infiltrate by boat.
Our President, our Country, our Corps and the Commander-in-Chief of the Pacific Fleet are depending on us and we will not let them down.

H.D. SHANNON
Colonel, U.S. Marine Corps,
Commanding