The wanderlust allure

Small town, rural Alabama always fell short of satisfying the wanderlust, free spirit of George. As a teenager, “hobo” trips on passing trains to distant cities became a common occurrence. The first of these journeys solicited severe discipline when he returned home to Ragland. His father, Tom, was a harsh disciplinarian. But, as the forays became more frequent, punishment gave way to indifference. George spoke often of the time he realized he had won this battle of wills. While returning from his most recent adventure, walking up the hill toward home, he passed his father walking in the opposite direction on his way to his job at the local cement plant. With hardly a glance between the two, Tom questioned “So you’re home?” To which George’s one word reply “Yep”, was adequate.

It was no surprise that after graduation from high school, George headed several hundred miles south to attend Auburn University with a hometown friend, Howard “Bonehead” Poe. But even the excitement of being a freshmen on a college campus soon waned. George just couldn’t stay in one place too long. He was soon hitchhiking back home. His preferred route to Ragland was through Birmingham where he would visit his Uncle Dan and Aunt Winnie Smith. They lived in Fairfield, a city just west of Birmingham where Dan worked in the local steel mill. It was on one of these occasions that the gentleman whom George hitch hiked with dropped him off in front of the Birmingham Marine Corp recruitment headquarters. There, on the city sidewalk, staring him in the eyes was J. M. Flagg’s Uncle Sam “I Want You” poster, with his finger pointing in George’s face.

With the bombing of Pearl Harbor and the United States being thrust into WWII the previous December, patriotic fervor was sweeping the country. That, coupled with the fact that a lot of George’s close friends were enlisting in the various military branches, was enough to convince him that Uncle Sam not only wanted him, but needed him.

This introduction to the Marines took place in Fall of 1942 but due to his age George needed his father’s signature before they could accept him. His father soon signed the necessary papers. In one of his first letters from boot camp to his family, dated November 11, 1942, George promised his dad that “I will do my best in this”, and not ever make him feel sorry that he “signed my papers”.

It was November 7, 1942 when George, along with a large contingent of new recruits, gathered at the Hotel Empire in Birmingham for the official induction and to await transport to San Diego. After a send-off parade on November 10, they boarded a west bound train, arriving in San Diego on Saturday, November 14th.

Paratrooper

Due to Germany’s successful use of parachute troops during the invasion of Holland and Belgium on May 10, 1940, U.S. Marine headquarters, on May 14, determined the creation of a Marine parachute force should be a high priority. Their 2d Parachute Company formally came into existence on March 22, 1941.

In May 1942, the Parachute School, Marine Corps Base, San Diego was temporarily established in tents at Camp Elliot. The next month, a second parachute school was organized at New River, N.C. By September, a camp at Santee, California, was completed and named in honor of Marine Lt. Archibald Gillespie. Camp Gillespie had accommodation for 600 officers and men plus two runways, a captive parachute training tower, two free towers, and a combat training swimming pool. The administrative and training staff at the school numbered 150 officers and men.1

Private first class pay for a Marine at the time was $36 per month, so the extra $50 offered for qualified paratroopers was great incentive for enlistment. But it was also recognition of the dangers involved. One particular wag echoed the sentiments of most when he said “many Marines thought that this was going to be a grand and glorious business”, with “plenty of action”. In truth, Paratrooper school was no cakewalk. The washout rate was about 40%.

On January 5, 1943, after seven weeks of Basic Training, George began his training as a Marine Paratrooper at Camp Gillespie. A few days earlier, on January 1, he penned a letter to home mentioning that “we’ll finish basic training tomorrow...I hope to get transferred back east”. It was obvious from his many letters sent home during basic training that the wanderer had a strong desire to get closer to home. Maybe he hoped to attend the parachute training at New River, North Carolina. But for whatever reason, he remained in California. On January 5th George wrote that he was going to “stay here for 5 more weeks...getting into aviation”.

George’s acceptance into the parachute school after Basic Training spoke of his physical prowess. According to the publication Silk Chutes and Hard Fighting: U.S. Marine Corps Parachute Units In World War II, “applications were to include information on the Marine’s educational record and athletic experience, so Headquarters was obviously interested in placing above-average individuals in these units”.

Training for parachute recruits consisted of a five to six week course divided into 3 phases. The first phase was ground training - parachute tactics, map reading, demolitions, techniques of fire, scouting and patrolling, combat swimming and weapons. The second phase was parachute packing, flotation gear and cargo containers. Phase three consisted of practicing on controlled and free towers, use of suspension lines and six jumps from aircraft in flight.3

One of the most vivid memories for George during this time of training occurred when Lt. Colonel Krulak’s wife came to watch a parachute jump. Krulak was the commander of the 2d Battalion and was training alongside the men. Conversation with his wife clued her into the fact that he would be the first out of the plane on this particular jump. What he failed to tell her was that it was common practice to drop a large heavy object out first, attached to a parachute, to help determine the wind speed and direction. As she watched, the “dummy” was thrown overboard, but it’s chute didn’t open. The object hurdled toward earth, hit with a thud and bounced. She fainted on the spot.

On February 9, 1943 George, along with 80 others, completed the rigorous training and were honored with an official celebration at Camp Gilespie. They were then transported back to Camp Elliott in San Diego where, on the 15th they received a certificate of Promotion Order recognizing completion of parachute Training School and were “hereby appointed private first class”. It was during this recognition ceremony that they also received the coveted “Wings”, that each wore with pride for years to come.

George was then assigned to Aviation Force No. 2, Company B, Parachute School at Gillespie. This was one of three Battalions that comprised the First (and only) Marine Parachute Regiment, a part of the 1st Marine Division.

In a letter to home dated January 7, 1943, at the beginning of his Paratrooper training, George wrote that his unit would “train here from 1 to 1 ½ years before ... going over.” In an ideal world, that would have been preferred by all. But there was a war to fight and it was advancing much faster than troops could be trained. So in March of 1943, less than two months after completing Paratrooper training, G Company of the 2nd Parachute Battalion sailed from San Diego and joined the 1st and 2nd Battalion at Camp Kiser, on New Caledonia arriving before the end of the month. It was on this small island that in mid-October 1942 Admiral “Bull” Halsey, after being given command of the South Pacific, set up headquarters in the capital city of Noumea.

George came away from WWII with more memories of this small French controlled island than any of the others. The scenery was picture-postcard perfect. The beauty and bliss of this South Pacific island betrayed the fact that many others were, and were to become, gruesome battlefields.

After landing at the port city of Noumea on the southeast coast, George and his companions were transported “about 50 miles up into the mountains” to the Marine Corp’s Camp Kiser. This camp was built for the paratroopers by the 1st Parachute Battalion after their recent return from a bloody but successful engagement on Guadalcanal.

The paratroopers continued training on New Caledonia. A requirement for receiving their extra $50 per month was one jump a month.3 It was about this time that George was moved from B Company to G Company, 2nd Paratroop Battalion.

While on New Caledonia George was paired with Paul Hamilton, a Marine with whom he had endured basic training as well as paratrooper school. They shared a tent and consequently many duties. One task they were soon given was driving into Noumea to pick up supplies and mail at the Army Post Office at Camp Barnes. They became regulars on this route and before long befriended some of the ladies at the local USO. These new-found friends made a point of saving some of the rare small containers of ice cream for George and Paul. On every trip into town they inevitably stopped by the USO for one of these special treats.

George also spoke of a small inn on the route into town. It too became a familiar stop because, as George remembered, “you could purchase a large steak and a big ol’ bottle of wine for $1”. He later learned that the steaks he had grown so fond of were actually horse meat.

The base on New Caledonia was run by the Navy and, as expected, the sailors were not fond of the Marines. When the Marine pilots were occupied the Navy pilots were called on to jump the Marines. George remembered on one occasion Captain Day threw the door open to start the jump only to discover that the pilot had them over the ocean. (side note - Captain Day was killed on Iwo.)

It was also on New Caledonia that George and his fellow Marines realized they truly were the “red-headed step child” of the armed forces. They learned that the Air Force soldiers always had better chow in their mess hall. George and several Marines started slipping into the Air Force chow hall to get a “decent meal”, until they were eventually discovered and stopped. Undeterred, they changed their tactics and snuck behind the Air Force barracks, removed the airmen’s uniforms that were hanging out to dry, slipped them on and proceeded into the chow line completely undetected. They delighted in picking out the rank they wanted to be as they enjoyed their undercover meal.

Vella LaVella

In early September the 2d Parachute Battalion sailed from New Caledonia to Guadalcanal for some brief mop-up duty. Next it was on to a staging area on Vella LaVella, landing on October 1, 1943. Allied forces had gained control of this island several months earlier, but as was always the case, there were still a significant number of Japanese forces hidden throughout the jungles. As on Guadalcanal, the 2nd Marine Parachute Battalion of the First Marine Parachute Regiment found themselves charged with flushing out hidden remnants of enemy in the dense jungles.

George’s recollection of time on Vella LaVella includes his often told story of being pinned down by a well concealed Japanese sniper, when from behind they heard the rumble of heavy equipment. The Marines watched as a SeeBee on his bulldozer maneuvered past them heading toward the treeline with his bucket up, deflecting the sniper fire. As the drama unfolded, the driver aims for a particular tree, hitting it numerous times until the sniper falls out. The SeeBee proceeds to run back and forth over the injured man with his bulldozer until he was nothing more than a bloody spot on the jungle floor. As it turned out, the Jap had killed a fellow SeeBee, angering this avenger into action.

Though Vella LaVella didn’t have a major airfield, there were plenty of dog fights in the sky over the small island as the Japanese continued to try to evacuate their stranded soldiers. Each day a group of 4 Marines from George’s battalion was assigned air watch duty. If they witnessed a dog fight, they were to watch for any Allied planes that were downed. If the pilot was fortunate enough to eject and parachute to the island, those Marines were instructed to do whatever was necessary to rescue the airman. The only time George recalls locating a downed pilot, they found him uninjured but cussing and fuming about being shot down by one of his own men.

And it was also on Vella LaVella where George recalled lying in his hammock, draped with mosquito nets, when over the groups old radio they heard Tokyo Rose call their unit by name. The smooth, seductive voice of Japanese propaganda said that the Imperial Forces were going to “destroy us that night. And sure enough, they bombed the fool out of us. But I don’t think anybody was killed” George reminisced.

George often shared the story of the Marine Paratrooper’s experiment with parachuting a jeep into battle. The oversized chute was attached to the jeep and pushed off the plane as troops gathered to watch. In a way only George could tell it, with sound affects included, he said the chute did not even slow the jeep down. It struck the ground with such force that all four wheels immediately shot hundreds of feet into the air. The experiment was a failure but it provided some memorable entertainment and plenty of laughs for a large group of Marines.

For the paratroopers of the 2d Battalion, Vella LaVella was only a staging location. Their primary objective was Bougainville, a larger island 60 miles to the northwest.

General Douglas MacArthur, the Southwest Pacific commander, had determined the Allies ultimate objective in the Solomon Islands was Rabaul, a major Japanese base on the island of New Britain. Bougainville was the next step in reaching that objective.

Typical South Pacific island-hoping strategy called for Allied forces to capture enemy air bases on the islands for their own use. But the Bougainville plan was to seize the Empress Augusta Bay region midway up the western side of the island and build an air base to help capture the two heavily fortified Japanese air bases on the northern and southern tip of the island. Defenses at Empress Augusta Bay were negligible and Bougainville’s difficult terrain would prevent any rapid reaction from enemy ground forces.

Choisel And Action

Prior to the decision to invade Bougainville, IMAC considered a major assault on the smaller island of Choiseul, just southeast of Bougainville. But, “when plans for attacking Choiseul and the Treasury Islands were submitted to General MacArthur, he objected to their intent, because he felt that the main objective, Rabaul, could not be brought under effective air attack from the proposed bases”1.

But as plans for the Bougainville Invasion progressed the Allied command grew concerned that the attack might be too obvious to the Japanese. To address that problem, in mid-October Major James C. Murray, staff secretary, advanced the idea that a raid on Choiseul might make the enemy think it was the next objective.

On October 20, General Alexander A. Vandegrift brought Lieutenant Colonel Krulak, affectionately known to his men as “The Brute”, to Guadalcanal for a conference with IMAC staffers. There they outlined the Choisel diversion raid. The corps issued final orders on October 22, for the 2d Parachute Battalion to begin the raid six days later. This battalion was chosen because they were “trained specifically for operating behind enemy lines and using guerrilla tactics.” The raid was given the code name of Operation Blissful. (See the book Mission Raise Hell: The U.S. Marines on Choiseul, by James F. Christ for a detailed account of this story). It was here, on Choisel that George would get his first real taste of war.

The 7252-man battalion was ordered to go ashore and “raise hell”—enough so to convince the Japanese that an entire 20,000-man division had invaded. Since the main assault force would be focused on Bougainville, Krulak was warned not to get bogged down because “there would be no rescue.”

The Battalion’s mission called for landing at an undefended area, near the village of Voza, conduct raids along the northwestern coast, select a site for a possible PT [patrol torpedo] boat base, and withdraw after 12 days.

As recorded in the book “Silk Chutes And Hard Fighting: US. Marine Corps Parachute Units in World War II” by Lieutenant Colonel Jon T. Hoffman, early in the evening of October 27, “four APDs and the destroyer Conway (DD-507) left Vella Lavella. The 2d Battalion, which had half its supplies already pre-loaded in landing craft, completed debarkation in less than an hour. The small convoy had a short but eventful trip to Choiseul, as an unidentified aircraft dropped bombs close aboard one of the APDs. The ships arrived early off Voza and the small Marine force was completely ashore by 0100.”

Hoffman goes on to speak of George’s specific company - “On 1 November, Major Warner T. Bigger, the battalion executive officer, launched an operation ... with the goal of destroying barges in Choiseul Bay and bombarding enemy installations on Guppy Island. Major Bigger and a reinforced Company G (less one rifle platoon) rode landing craft to the Warrior River, where they left their sole radio and a security team before moving overland toward their objective. Things began to go wrong thereafter. The native scouts were unfamiliar with the area and the patrol soon found itself going in a circle. Bigger and his force bivouacked for the night, but he sent one squad back to the Warrior River to make a report to battalion by radio.”

In a brief letter, George describes being a member of this squad that was sent back to make a report. His account mentions being the “radio man” for Captain Day.

I was the radio man for my captain, but when the batteries went dead I became a runner. The captain sent me and 4 others back to find another radio but then we got lost. We came to a river too deep and wide for all of us to cross with our gear so we drew straws. A private by the name of Gallagher lost so he left his gear behind and swam across. As soon as he reached the opposite shore a dozen or more Japs surrounded him. We immediately headed up river looking for a place to cross with our equipment. It was the next day before we found a place narrow enough to cross. We headed back down river, looking for Gallagher and his captors. After several hours we found Gallagher dead, tied to a tree, beaten beyond recognition. Had it not been for his dogtags we could not have identified him.

We continued downstream until we heard voices just over the ridge in front of us. We crawled to the top of the small ridge and spotted a group of Japs we assumed were responsible for Gallaghers death. They obviously felt the enemy was miles away because they were relaxed around their fire cooking a big pot of rice. Their rifles were stacked to one side with one lone soldier sitting on a log over the river, dangling his bare feet in the cool water.

Having not eaten in two days and angry about Gallagher we decided it was time for a confrontation. Sergeant Wilson told each of us to pick a target, and at his order open fire. We lined up across the ridge, and at the Sergeant’s signal we opened fire. As the first round was fired we looked to see that we had all targeted the poor soul sitting on the log. Fortunately the others were so surprised we were able to kill them before they could reach their rifles. We were certain other Japs could be in the area so one by one we ran by the pot of rice, dipping our helmets as full as we could. It was a black rice but it tasted mighty good!

We sat in silence, eating our rice, expecting at anytime to hear the sound of approaching enemy. After what seemed hours, we finished eating and continued downstream until we soon came to the ocean.

After several days of wandering through the jungle, and occasional engagements with enemy, George’s patrol concluded with this account from Hoffman’s book:

“Major Bigger and his main body returned to the Warrior River at 1600. They expected to meet the landing craft there, but found none. When they attempted to cross the river to reach the radio team (unaware that it was gone) they came under fire from Japanese forces. After 90 minutes of fighting, three boats appeared, with Marines on board firing their weapons. The Japanese fire died down in the face of this new opposition and Company G embarked in the midst of heavy rain and high seas. One craft hit a reef after retracting from the beach and began to take on water. Then its engine died and it drifted toward the enemy-held beach. Two PT boats, one commanded by Lieutenant (jg) John F. Kennedy, finally came on the scene and took aboard the men on that boat. Three aircraft appeared at the same time and covered the operation by strafing the shore. The combat patrol had killed 42 Japanese in several firefights and inflicted undetermined casualties and damage with its mortar fire. Marine losses were 2 killed, 1 wounded, and 2 missing (natives later recovered the bodies of these two men).”

George often shared his memories of this experience. He recalled helping a wounded Marine (later identified as ______) aboard the PT boat and into John Kenndy’s bunk. The Marine died soon after from his wounds.

After being rescued on John F. Kennedy’s PT boat George’s unit was returned to Camp Voza on Choisel.

According to Silk Chutes And Hard Fighting: US. Marine Corps Parachute Units in World War II, “The corps staff had considered expanding the operation on 30 October by inserting the rest of the parachute regiment. Now they radioed Krulak and asked him for his “frank suggestion whether we should remove your outfit tomorrow night.” The message ended with the straightforward assessment — “Feel your mission accomplished.” The parachute commander responded that he expected a strong Japanese attack within 48 hours and recommended withdrawal in light of IMAC’s view that nothing further could be gained by continuing operations. Two days into the Empress Augusta Bay landing, it must have been obvious to the Japanese that the west coast of Bougainville was the main target and Choiseul was a diversion.

In the afternoon of November 3, the battalion moved to the beach at Voza and established a perimeter pending the nighttime arrival of four LCIs (one of them a gunboat version to provide covering fire). The demolition platoon placed out hundreds of booby traps on avenues of approach, to include a rocket suspended in a tree and double-edged razor blades worked into palm trunks (to discourage snipers from clambering into their habitual perches). As darkness fell, native scouts reported that Japanese forces were moving closer and enemy patrols began to reach the Voza area near midnight, as evidenced by exploding booby traps. The three transport LCIs arrived just prior to that and beached by 0130. The parachutists were completely loaded in less than 20 minutes and were back at Vella Lavella by 0800. As the battalion marched to its camp, coastwatchers were reporting the occupation of Voza by the enemy, who still were having difficulty with the varied devices left by the Marines.

At a cost of 11 dead and 14 wounded, the 2d Battalion had killed a minimum of 143 Japanese and seriously disrupted the movement of enemy forces from Choiseul to points northward. The minefield chart (recovered from a captured Japanese camp), also provided a valuable assist to naval operations in the northern Solomons. Halsey ordered mines laid in the clear channels and they eventually sank two Japanese ships.

The Choisel raid lasted from October 28 through November 4, and was by all accounts a success. From this brief deployment George walked away with some of his most memorable experiences of the war. But there would be more.

Wedding Bells

The telegram found in George’s possessions addressed to his mother reads “ARRIVED SANDIEGO FURLOUGH SOON NEED MONEY WIRE SAME IMMEDIATELY LOVE GEORGE”. The date on the telegram was Feb. 5, 1944. In the same cigar box as this telegram was a small, official looking scrap of paper with the following title “Permit To Visit Travel Office”. The permit, dated Feb. 14, 1944, states “For the purpose of adjusting Air Travel”. These bits of memories document George’s return home on furlough during February, 1944.

It was on this return home that George hooked up with a young lady he had met through his college roommate. The roommate’s hometown of Enterprise being a bit closer to Auburn than Ragland, George occasionally went home with him. It was on one of these weekends in Enterprise that he met Jaunita Ogeltree. Numerous letters written home during bootcamp attest to the fact that he and Jaunita had more than a passing interest in each other. (examples from letters)

While George was on furlough back in Ragland that February, Juanita came for a visit. In his words, “Pete Frambo, Talmadge’s brother”, and Irene Curd, “who lived down by the railroad tracks”, were going to Ashville to get married. They talked George and Jaunita into going with them and on a bit of a whim, they too, married. The date was February 27, 1944.

On March 28 George returned to Camp Pendelton with Juanita to begin a new life. At the same time several of George’s marine buddies jumped on the marriage bandwagon as well. Paul Hamilton married Joan, a native of San Diego, whose father owned a local jewelry store. Bill Bowman wed Bernice. And there was Ken Campbell who had traveled back home to Indiana, met a long-time friend names Lois, and married soon thereafter.

The months to follow found these young couples ______________________. And it was these that George would keep in contact with for years to come.

Island X

Due to the lack of planes available to transport and drop the units, long distances between bases and battlefields in the Pacific, and the densely defended and foliaged islands the Marine Corp made the decision to disband the parachute battalions. According to James Brady in his book Why Marines Fight, another less publicized reason for disbanding was an incident that took place _______. During a practice jump, a pilot error resulted in an entire planeload of Marines being dropped in the Pacific on an ebbing tide that resulted in most of the heavy laden men being swept to see off an atoll, to their death.

Back at Pendelton, George was assigned to the newly formed A Company of the 5th Division. It was with this group that he would train for the next few months as a member of a machine gun squad.

Their initial training took place at Camp Pendelton. “We hiked all over that place [Pendelton], till our shoes were bloody” George recalled. Then, at dusk on August 12, 1944, the reinforced 27th Company was loaded aboard an LST, “a big ol’ wash tub”, and slipped out of San Diego Harbor. At departure the Marines were unaware of their destination, but the scuttle butt was “we’re going to San Fransico” and “we’re hitting Kurile Islands north of Japan”. One rumor had them heading straight to Tokyo. On the second day out to sea, all rumors were quieted when unit commanders announced that Hawaii was their destination.

Six days after leaving San Diego, the first of the ships in the convoy made landfall in Hilo Harbor, on the Island of Hawaii, the largest in the eight island group.

By August 18th, the division was making it’s way to it’s newest home, Camp Tarawa, a tent camp 60 miles north of Hilo. It was here that the 5th would gain combat proficiency.4

Camp Tarawa was situated on Parker Ranch, a privately owned ranch on the interior of the island. Established in the early 1800’s, Parker Ranch was the largest ranch on Hawaii, at one point encompassing more than half-million-acres with a herd of 30,000 Herefords .

Initially, the ultimate destination and objective of the 5th Division was uncertain though it was created with a sense of certainty that they would be involved in a major offensive. With the ebb and flow of the war in the Pacific, it was not until sometime during the training at Camp Tarawa that General Keller Rockey, the head of the Fifth Division was told Iwo Jima was to be their battle field. Secrecy was the order of the day so to the units training on Hawaii, Iwo Jima was know only as “Island X.”

Training intensified over time and eventually the troops were shipped 12 miles to Camp Drew on the coast to practice the actual event of hitting the beach on “Island X”. Then they traveled back to Hilo Harbor to practice loading troops and equipment into LSTs. No detail of the invasion was left to chance. This was to be the most thoroughly rehearsed invasion launched with the most prepared soldier in Marine Corp history. Every channel of supply and agency of communication was tested time after time under conditions of simulated combat.5 There was even field training with live ammo.

One of the final checks on preparation was a thorough inspection of the combat teams. Marines stood in boat-group formation with full combat equipment while inspecting teams checked to see that every man’s equipment and clothing and the equipment of his unit were complete.6

It was Christmas Day, 1944, when the first ships assigned to transport the 5th Division began loading at Hilo Harbor. For the next few weeks hundreds of trucks moved night and day down the coastal highway leading from Camp Tarawa to Hilo Harbor. It was not until January 10th that the entire 5th Division was water-borne and gathered in Pearl Harbor.

Over the next four days, while the officers worked out details of several more planned rehearsals, the enlisted men were given one evening of liberty on an alternating basis. Most of those on liberty made their way to Honolulu, 8 miles away, but others just lingered on the local beaches.

On January 21, the 5th Division moved out of Pearl Harbor and made its way to Maui where they practiced debarkation drills. The next day the landing craft hit the beaches, and the landing teams dashed ashore only to immediately re-embark. The third day all units carried out day and night maneuvers ashore then re-embarked. These exercises were carried out on a portion of the island that was the same size and shape as Iwo. On the fourth day at Maui, the Division ran through debarkation drills for a simulated landing supported by naval gunfire and air strikes at the nearby tiny Kahoolawe Island.

After this series of rehearsals the 5th was then moved back to Oahu for resupply, critique of their performance and one more liberty then it was time to ship out. On January 22, the first wave of transport ships headed out into the Pacific. Five days later, on January 27, 1945, the remaining transport ships embarked with George and his unit aboard the USS Hansford. (Wikipedia “USS Hansford APA-106).

It was not until 2 days out to sea that the target was specifically announced to the units. Island X was now Iwo Jima. But that meant little to the thousands of Marines who had never heard of the small volcanic island 670 miles south of Japan’s mainland.

The convoy made a brief refueling stop at the tiny island of Eniwetok then proceeded to a staging area at Saipan, arriving February 11. While on Saipan, there was a one-day invasion rehearsal on the nearby island of Tinian to practice transferring troops from transports to the smaller LSTs. They then left Siapan, February 16, for the final leg of their journey to Iwo.

D-Day

Never in the history of the Marine Corp had so formidable a force been amassed, and extensively trained for such a specific initiative.

But never in their history had the battle field been so formidable and hostile. With 110,000 troops geared for the assault, Allied command expected to take the 34 sq. mile? (21 square kilometers) island in 3 days. But the Japanese General Tadamichi Kuribayashi, since arriving in June, had made Iwo Jima the “most heavily fortified piece of real estate in the world.” (Spearhead, pg 35, col2). A captured Japanese officer admitted that a year earlier, March of 44, Iwo’s mere 4,500 troops would have fallen in 2 days. There were 22,000 enemy forces on D-day hiding in 11 miles of underground tunnels.

The softening of Iwo actually began June 15, 1944 when part of the 121-ship task force assigned to attack Siapan and the Marianas launched an air strike on Iwo Jima and other surrounding islands. Air strikes continued until the day of the invasion. Naval bombardment of the island began in ernest on February 16, D-day minus 3, but were hindered by bad weather. And for this reason, intense bombardment was not possible until D-day minus 1. Due to the invasion being scheduled for the next day, the navy concentrated their guns toward enemies installations around the proposed beachheads. And though the alloted ammunition for the pre-invasion bombardment had not been spent, many known inland positions were left untouched. Naval command felt certain that with an extra day more installations could be found and destroyed, but a landing the next day would be successful if necessary. (Spearhead, pg 38) The historically controversial decision was made to proceed with the invasion.

George recalled being below deck when they heard the distant sound of canons. Everyone made there way to the deck to witness the sight of “hundreds” of battleships blasting this small island with some of the largest artillery he had ever seen.

As the time approached, George and his unit, along with thousands of others, were loaded from there LST into landing craft to begin the assault on Iwo. George, as a member of the 3rd Platoon, A Company, was assigned the unenviable position of being in the first wave to hit Iwo on Red Beach 2, just at the base of Mt. Suribachi.

One vivid memory George recalled of the approach to Iwo was of an American plane being shot down overhead and plunging into the ocean with no pilot ejecting. Records show that this was Major Dollins, the first official casualty of the invasion.

As a member of 3rd Platoon, A Company, 27th Regiment, George was assigned the unenviable position of being in the first wave to hit Iwo on Red Beach 2. To their immediate left was the unit responsible for swinging south to assault Mt. Suribachi, the islands most formidable, and potentially dangerous feature. The 1/27 was to move rapidly from their beach on the eastern shore, across the narrowest portion of the island to the western shore, essentially cutting Surabachi off from the rest of the island. They were then to swing north moving up to the heart of the enemies heaviest fortifications and toward the General Kuribayashi’s command center.

Being a machine gun unit they were actually suppose to hit the beach slightly behind the infantry. But due to the huge waves generated by the USS Tennessee as it pounded the island with 16 inch canons, the small landing craft was forced out of its intended formation. Their craft was one of the first to hit the beach, without their infantry support.

The Marine’s machine gun squad consisted of six men who, while moving into battle would sprint to a predetermined location and as quickly as possible set up position. The first man carried the tripod and would “slap” it to the ground while the second man mounted a 30 caliber Browning M1919A4 Light Machine Gun on the tripod. The other men followed with boxes of shells. Three of the men acted as runners and would resupply the unit with shells as the other three manned the gun.

The air-cooled M1919A4 could get so hot the barrel would glow red if fired extensively. The water-cooled version could be fired for longer periods of time without overheating, but was too heavy to carry when the units were required to hit-and-run. If a night attack was expected, the squad was provided the water-cooled gun.

On D-day George’s squad consisted of L.C. “Hillbilly” Hoopes from Tennessee, John D. Beaugart from Ohio, W.W. Wright from Mississippi, and J. Torres from Texas and C. Faye. The sequence of events had long since escaped George’s memory, but he recounted that it was not long before 4 of the 6 were Iwo casualties.

During one of their first engagements with the Japanese, as shells exploded all around, he heard Wright holler at Faye to get down. Seconds later George turned to see Faye on his hands and knees, apparently crawling for their hole, but headless. A blast had decapitated him.

During another firefight, Torres took a shot to the leg and hip. Crying for help, George recalled “Wright and I tried to doctor him with morphine but his skin was so tough the needles kept breaking”. Eventually two corpmen with a stretcher made their way to the wounded embattled Marines and prepared Torres for evacuation. George vividly recalled watching as the trio made their way across the rocky terrain. They had traveled no further than 100 yards when a mortar shell landed directly on the trio, killing all. George remembered Torres giving him a small Bible before being carried away, but it was apparently lost in the ensuing days.

Hoopes was “shot through the neck while he tried to get ammo to us” George reflected. “He drowned in his own blood”.

Beaugart had the habit of wearing his helmet backwards and his tongue stuck out as he focused on the task at hand. George and Wright were on either side of Beaugart as he manned the gun when a bullet hit him between the eyes, killing him instantly. His body fell over the machine gun leaving George and Wright stranded without a weapon. Simply moving Beaugart’s body would possibly put them in the same snipers crosshairs. George took a deep breath, dashed from behind the small mound he had fallen behind, and with one arm, as he ran past, pulled Beaugart’s body off the gun then fell into the hole with Wright. Gathering his courage one more time, George dashed toward the gun, grabbing it and the tripod then fell behind the mound from which he started. He and Wright were then able to set up the machine gun and resume fighting.

“Beaugart was a good ol’ boy. All my squad was good. We never argued over who was handling what task. Sometimes I’d carry the gun and fire, sometimes I’d be a runner with the ammo. And we were good. We could field strip that gun like that” George said as he snapped his fingers.

Many tragic events made an impact on George’s Marine experience. He could not recall many of them, but the replacements often met the same fate as the original squad members. His only memory of a specific replacement was “an old man”. “He had arthritis in his hand and I had a tough time getting him started in the mornings.”

George’s ticket off the island came on D+14, March 4. Somewhere around airfield number 3, he recalls “either hill 262 or 263”, George watched as Bringman was shot and killed. Seconds later a shell landed near his foxhole. In a letter to his family from the naval hospital in Pensacola George recounts “that old shell surely did blow all heck out of me. Guess when it blew me up into the air I looked like a B-29 on a raid and I must have hit like one coming in on a crash landing”.

Someone eventually made their way to where George lay and asked if he was ok. The vivid memory of Torres dying while being transported on the stretcher across an open field came to mind as George insisted he could walk on his own. Instead of waiting for a stretcher, he limped toward the rear of the line, eventually losing consciousness. When he first came to he was lying on a stretcher somewhere on the edge of Airfield No. 2. He recalls glancing toward the airstrip, and seeing soldiers playing a game of horseshoes. He remembered thinking “What the hell are they doing playing games while we’re dying just a mile away”.

George’s company, A Company under Lt. Kasky hit Iwo with 7 officers and 240 enlisted men. After 36 days of combat they left the island with 3 officers and 31 enlisted men from the original number. Wright was the only original member of George’s squad to walk off on his own power. George recalls hearing a fellow Marine holler “Gunny got it” referencing their gunny Sergeant (standing to the right in their unit picture). George shouted back “How?” and was told “Standing up with his mouth open.” His other Sergeant, Schroder (? tall man on left of unit picture) received the medal of honor on Iwo.

George later recalled “never being scared at all. You don’t want to think of it. Stepping over bodies, on bodies.” “And one day me, Wright and Beaugart was moving up. There were bodies scattered around and Beaugart spotted a beautiful watch on one. Darn if Beaugart didn’t go and take that watch off that dead marine.” A few days later, immediately after Beaugart was killed George asked Wright if he wanted the watch. Wright emphatically said “No”.

And years later, at the first reunion George attended of “Hogan’s Goats”, (the nickname of this group), as he approached Wright, meeting for the first time since the day he was evacuated, Wright said “that can’t be George Adams. He got killed on Iwo.”

George spoke of a battle field promotion he received on Iwo but never received. His commanding officer was killed before the order was made official. According to Silver Star recipient Bert Rutan from Company C of the 27th Marines, this was not uncommon. “...there were so many men who had done much more than I had. They were never recognized because their NCOs or officers had been killed and there had been no one to report their actions.”8

Without a doubt, George, and every other Marine, earned the respect of their nation and the fear of their enemy. Their nickname devil dogs, earned in Germany during WWI, was somewhat mild compared to the view Japanese soldier held. They were taught that a prerequisite for becoming a Marines was that the soldier had to kill his mother. And more often than not, a Japanese would fight to the death before surrender because he was taught Marines would kill and eat their captives.

Of the 110,000 forces that hit Iwo, 6,825 were killed in action, 1,401 died of wounds, 19,189 were wounded and 494 were listed as missing.

Stateside

George was evacuated to the Red Cross ship off shore then taken on to a hospital in Guam. From there it was on to Pearl Harbor and finally reached Pensacola Naval Hospital on April 24, 1945. After being released from the hospital in Pensacola he was put on guard duty at the Pensacola base.

The next months found him on guard duty at Philadelphia, then Brooklyn, then Lake Hurst (N.J.) Then on to D.C. where he was a guard to the marine corp commandant.

That particular duty required dress blues and spit shined shoes which George didn’t take a liking to. After asking for a transfer he was told to pack his seabag and wait outside the barracks. Eventually a transport truck pulled up with the bed covered completely with canvas. An MP got out of the cab, unbuttoned the canvas “door” on the back and told dad to get on board. The MP told George and the few other marines already in the back that he had orders to shoot any of them who talked or tried to look out of the truck. They were to sit still and “shut up”. After a long bumpy ride the same MP appeared at the back of the truck and unbuttoned the canvas door. The marines were ordered out and shown to their temporary quarters, a Quonset hut they were parked in front of. They were issued pistols and rifles and an arm badge embroidered with “MP”. It turned out that the next few days George found himself guarding president Harry Truman at the secret hide-away that president Roosevelt referred to as Shangri-la, later renamed Camp David. The president and his entourage had CIA escorts guarding their every move but George and his fellow marines were to guard the perimeter of the grounds. He spent time walking the back gate and watching the dignitaries from afar as they partied around a pool. After the president left to go back to D.C. George and his cohorts were loaded back on the same truck under the same secret cover then driven to D.C. The truck made a few stops unloading the marines at various places. At one stop the MP opened the back door and shouted for “Adams” to unload. George found himself standing in front of a large building. He was escorted into the building and into the office of a Captain Wee-wee (?). This was George’s new and final duty as an enlisted Marine. He was given an office next to Captain Wee-wee’s and was assigned as his assistant. He was put in charge of making “jackets” on every enlisted marine. A jacket was essentially a folder filled with every bit of information available about that particular soldier. To help with this task he had a group of 7 or 8 female marines working for him.

The normal work attire was khaki’s with no indication of rank or service. One day Captain Wee-wee approached George and told him there would be a high ranking officer coming the next day so he needed to wear his marine green uniform. Apparently most of the marines working at HQ had been there for the extent of the war because when George showed up the next day in his freshly pressed dress greens with all his ribbons and medals from service the ladies in the office were extremely impressed. They joked that he was going to get into trouble for wearing all the medals, insinuating they were counterfeit. Soon after, Captain Wee-wee called him into his office and commented that he knew George had been overseas and in several battles but was not aware of just how much he had accomplished in his career.

During this time Juanita was living in Enterprise, Alabama with her parents. But the distance and George’s carefree spirit had taken it’s toll on the marriage. They separated in August of 1945. Juanita gave birth to their son, Johnny Thomas, on May 21, 1946, but that was not enough to keep the couple together. When George traveled to Enterprise to see his newborn son, Jaunita’s mother wouldn’t allow him into the hospital room. They officially divorced on January 17, 1947. Soon thereafter, George signed papers allowing Juanita’s new husband to adopt Johnny.

George had enlisted in the Marines in November of 42 so, as his 4 year hitch was coming to an end his Captain called him into his office one day to tell him he was going to send him to Quantico to be officially discharged. When he asked George his plans he said he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. Captain asked why he was not planning on returning to college dad said that after 4 years in the marines he felt like there was not much college could teach him. Captain Weewee told him that since he was a good worker, and if George wanted to come back he’d hire him as a civil service employee doing the same job. George told him he’d think about it so, after being discharged on December 20 of 1946 he went home to Ragland for a short period to weigh his options.

George went back to D.C. and took the job as a civil servant still working for Captain Weewee. Soon after dad’s return to D.C. Captain Weewee moved on to another job and a “90 day wonder” 2nd lieutenant became his boss. This particular boss didn’t care much for dad and really didn’t like the fact that he’d occasionally take a break and lean on the desks of some of the female marines to exchange small talk. It finally got to him so much that one day, face red with anger he stormed out and proceeded to chew dad out. George pointed a finger in his face and reminded him that he couldn’t do anything to him because he was no longer an enlisted man but a civilian.

Soon after, George transferred a few floors down. His new boss, a 1st Lt. put him in charge of documenting every type of equipment used by the marines during WWII. George enjoyed this job. But George became eager to make a few extra bucks and decided to join the reserves. On April 29, 1947 he enlisted and assumed the rank and status he had when discharged the previous December.

On one of his weekend assignments with the reserves he was sent to Quantico Marine base. That first evening the ranking Lt. gave George orders to take a group of men to the camp and unload truck loads of seabags as they were delivered. He told George to stay until all the trucks were unloaded and then another truck would be sent to pick him and his men up to bring them back to camp for supper. The last truck came and was unloaded but, before it pulled away George stopped the driver and asked him to wait a few minutes. George, concerned that another truck would not be sent back for them, dropped the tailgate of the truck and loaded his men on the truck for a ride back to base. The driver of the truck, in an apparent hurry to get back kept the pedal to the medal, hauling as fast as possible back to base. Along the way he hit a large bump in the road, which bounced all the men off the truck injuring several of the men pretty badly.

Needless to say George got in trouble. The Lt. called him in and threatened to court martial him. The fact that dad had seen action and had a clean record and had earned the respect of the Lt. kept him from a court martial but not hard duty for the remainder of that deployment. He had KP duty and butt duty at the rifle range. Butt duty is sitting at the wrong end of the shooting range, in a trench below the target. When the target is shot you pull it down and put a marker on the spot where the bullet hit so the soldiers can spot it easier. When the target gets shot full of holes you replace it.

As soon as he returned to DC from this camp he went to the commanding officer and said he’d had enough of this unit and wanted out. He was told that the only way out was to die or transfer to another unit. A transfer could only take place if he moved from DC to another part of the country. It was then he decided that it was time to return to Alabama. He contacted his uncle Henry who worked at US Steel and asked if they were hiring. They were and so, George moved to Birmingham to began a career at us steel. This put him in the Atlanta marine corp reserve unit where he remained active until being discharged on April 28, 1952.

But George did not move back by himself. While living in Washington D.C. George rented a room from an elderly lady affectionately named “grandma”, at her house at 713 Upsher Street. And it was at a nearby restaurant that George met a young lady named Nettie, a civilian worker at Marine H.Q., originally from Richwood, West Virgina. He and Nettie bought a house at 712 40th Street in Fairfield and, thanks to his uncle, found a job at U.S. Steel. Not only did he and Nettie settle into their new home, but Nettie’s younger sister, Viola moved in with them. In George’s words, she went a little wild and had to move back home to West Virgina. Nettie was a catholic but the priest in D.C. would not marry them because George would not convert. They consequently were married in a Baptist church and after settling into life in Fairfield.

According to one of his sisters who lived nearby, Nettie “gave George a hard time”. She was very jealous, always drilling George as to his whereabouts when he returned home from an evening out with his Brother-in-law. And the day finally came when he told her to “pack your stuff and get out”. Once again, marriage for George did not work out. They divorced in March of 1954.

Soon thereafter, George met Charlotte Blalock, a native of Fairfield. She worked in an office near George’s and her coming and goings had captured his attention.

In May of 1954 Charlotte traveled to Mobile with some friends for a brief vacation. George traveled to Mobile and he and Charlotte drove to Gulfport and married on May 29.

His thirst for adventure quenched, George settled into family life with the same commitment that carried him through eight years of Marine Corp service. And though family life mellowed him more each passing year, at heart he would always be a soldier - a Marine. He never forgot the sacrifice he made nor the ultimate price paid by his fellow Leathernecks. In his book “With The Old Breed At Peleliu and Okinawa” Eugene Sledge reflected the sentiments of George and many WWII Marines: “I am still amazed I escaped the killing machine. I’m proud of the number of enemy i fired on and hit...and regret the ones i missed. There is no ‘mellowing’ for me–that would be to forgive all the atrocities the Japanese committed against millions of Asians and thousands of Americans. To ‘mellow’ to to forget.”

Once a Marine, always a Marine. Semper Fi, Dad.