Japanese caves Archives

21 July 1945

Dear Folks:

Excuse the fancy stationery but I don’t feel like looking for something better. Had four letters this evening from Dad, Phil, Pat and Dick, so I better write someone tonight.

It’s been hot and sultry today and the weather is continuing [to] dry. But we have a clean position away from road dust and noise. Today a little after noon the island was declared secure so the battle has officially ended although there probably are many Japs still running around in small bands. Two Japs came around last night but were quickly dealt with in final fashion. But to have the island secure is a relief and probably soon we will get some movies, some beer and a little rest. Suppose you have heard General Buckner was killed. It was a big surprise to me. Today up the road a ways, someone was blasting Jap caves and every so often a big bang blew up smoke and flame. Probably some Nips were found there. Civilian Okinawans and Japs are giving up in large numbers and yesterday a family of six were rounded up. They sat near the CP while waiting for a truck to take them to a civilian compound and I looked them over. The father had on a battered hat and a toon shirt and a loin cloth and leading his two little boys. As always the wife trudged behind carrying a very young baby on her back held up by a cloth bound around his seat and one around his neck. His head was lolled back, sound asleep. And a hold of her shirt was her oldest, a girl of four or five. They were very silent, and looked like they had always worked hard. Probably the wife could walk all day with her baby on her back. The father had a stub of a cigarette and when he wanted it lit he bowed many times and showed complete humility. Finally the truck came and they look[ed] a little scared and the children hung on to their mother. A Marine helped them in the truck and as they rode away the mother nursed her baby and the children clung to her in fright. Probably they felt for sure they would be killed. They are Japs but I thought how hopeless life must have looked to them. Probably they had all huddled in a cave every day for the last two months, thinking the world had exploded, and at the same time trying to hold their family together and keep the children safe and warm. But they will be better off now. How fortunate American civilians are.

Talk of demobilization still holds the conversational spotlight and at present I am optimistic. I think it will come in six months but it will seem to drag I know.

Had a package from Gram and Gramp yesterday – some playing cards and a bar of maple sugar. How I used to crave it as a boy and I still do. I will write them tomorrow – Gram is so sympathetic and sweet.

Well it’s getting pretty dusk so I better wind up. Hang on a little longer and soon we’ll be together for good.

Love,

26 June 1945

Dear Folks:

I hadn’t intended to write tonight but had a nice letter from you with the pictures so I’m in the mood. The pictures are very good. Your dress tied in the back brings back the days when we always were tugging at some part of your apparel. Phil looks well filled out and husky and very nice looking, and it looks like Carol and him make a good pair. He looks nice in his uniform. In his letters Phil says Carol is a ‘slick dish’ or ‘takes the cake’. Dad’s store has certainly grown from its humble beginnings in the Flower house garage. And all since I’ve been away. I hope it grows in the future as it has in the past.

This afternoon I slept – soundly and someone told me I even snored. The first afternoon like that in a long time. We are having it easier now – are getting volleyball courts and baseball diamonds and will probably be on a half-day schedule. Soon we will have a canteen and some movies.

Some evenings we have quite a little show shooting up Japs who wander around and almost every day we bag a few. Yesterday we spotted a group in a cave and after some excitement 7 Japs were dead. Still quite a few running around. About every night a few Japs try to infiltrate back along a road that runs along a little valley near our area. Then flares go up and the machine guns start spitting red tracers. We overlook the road so when things start we gather on the hill and watch like spectators in the bleachers of a rodeo. Sometimes we can see the Japs trying to scramble up the road bank or run when the flare bursts over them. A few nights ago a fellow in the battery who is called the “Deacon” killed a husky Jap who got in pretty close. Being the person he was, jibbed him plenty. But we are pretty safe. It is pretty hard to [end of the letter is missing]

11 June 1945

Dear folks:

My writing has been delayed considerably because of a succession of events that made writing difficult. And I know you’ve been anxious too.

I’ve been bouncing over the roads today and I feel pretty tired and let down tonight but not so I can’t write you. On my travels today I saw Shuri and Noha including Shuri castle or what is left of it. You know the struggle it has been to take those places. I couldn’t describe to you the desolation and wreckage. Hardly a structure stands and everywhere there is rubble of stone and wood. Only a long two-story brick building remains to what was a city of 65,000-Noha. Bulldozers nudge around through the debris clearing roads and cleaning up, and preparing areas to live in. Shuri is equally wrecked. Shuri sits in a valley surrounded by hills and ridges that shelter catacombs of interlocking caves and emplacements. Every ridge is specked with these holes. From a high view the fields are potted with circular shell holes and occasionally a huge crater of a bomb or a large naval shell. And I saw our burned out tanks, many of them, stopped in a low place where the Japs probably used their suicide tactics of planting satchel charges on the tanks and blowing themselves up. Shuri castle has a few remaining pillars still standing. They immediately remind one of the Greek ruins. Now the Japs have been pushed into a very small pocket and there they will probably repeat their banzai charge and the remainder dive into the sea as they did on Saipan. It seems that the Japanese are entirely alien to what we believe about life and the standards we live by.

Yesterday I had a look at four freshly killed Japs who were killed in their cave. They had thrown a grenade at one of our men from their hole about half way up a steep bank. After we sneaked up and threw grenades and plenty of ammunition at them, someone looked in and they had died for the emperor. One had apparently held a grenade to his chest at the last minute for his chest was blown open and his face gone. In peacetime our government will spend thousands of dollars to find the murderer of one man but here a life seems worth little.

After coming in tonight I found I had four letters, two each from Mom and Dad—one from June. They certainly were appreciated and I’ve already gone over them many times. And I’ll read them many more. Now I’m the one who isn’t keeping up, but pretty soon I should be on a regular schedule. Yesterday had two Free Press dated back in February. I’m looking forward to the recent ones you kept.

Haven’t seen Dick or Duane yet but I think it won’t be too long. Probably the island will be secured soon and then it will be easier to get around. I would like to have Dick come over and stay a few days with me if it is possible.

I can’t say much about the demobilization deal except what I read and hear. I have more than 85 points and weighing everything I feel more optimistic than pessimistic about getting home in the next few months—although I have nothing to go on. Maybe it’s like a women’s 6^th sense. But if something doesn’t materialize I will lose faith in everything. I can hardly imagine being home again. A rumor today said those over 85 will see no more combat, but as I say it’s just a rumor.

Bob Meyers and Guyla Steele now—golly I can hardly picture it and Guyla a Russian. I don’t like that. Glad to hear Jim S. is getting married but sorry to hear his folks are leaving. I thought perhaps Phil and Carol would get married on his leave and was slightly surprised to hear they didn’t. Phil sent me a picture of her. She looks pretty sweet.

On the fruit orchard deal it would be mostly oranges and grapefruit and for the first couple of years a small truck garden to alleviate expenses. Our area is in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas. I thought I would put some money into it and let Dick run the place and build up a first class orchard and do everything to produce a good orchard. To make expenses until the crop begins to produce Dick would raise a small truck garden and with the equipment I would buy, he could make money helping others spray etc. And I would come back and get the best job I could and make up some of the first year’s expenses. If I get home soon I’m going to look into it but of course I’m not going all out on it until I can find out a little more. I am anxious to talk to Dick about. I think he will like it. I know my buddy would not let me down, he’s square and honest as the day is long. He is a great guy. He is anxious to help me and he wants later to expand and then go together on a business of hardware there. We had great fun going all over it one night in a foxhole. And I know Dad would fall over backward to advise me. I’m very anxious to see the picture of the store. Nancy and Mom and Phil all write about what an institution it is getting to be.

I’m glad you had a nice birthday and I wished I could have sent you something. (The Noha department store is very short on items). I know Dick and I and Phil will all be home soon to give you an inexpensive but most wanted gift—a big kiss.

And Mom I wouldn’t want you to go out west. Stay where you are and keep home what it has always been and always will be. Many people may soon regret having done that.

And I too want Nancy to go to school and for my choice, Nebraska University. And to have every advantage of graduating. I wanted to graduate in the worst kind of way and feel very badly sometimes because I didn’t. If I were still in school and took law, I would almost be out. I hate to think I will never get a degree. My days there were filled with association and acquaintance with learning, that are long remembered. I surely want Nancy to go and have all she needs to enjoy it.

I’m sure you finally got straightened out on my outfit and I have never been able to tell you. I’m feeling fine but I think I must feel like Dad sometimes—ready to blowup and sometimes I feel nervous as hell. I just hope I can soon see you. Minor differences will seem like nothing after this.

Well it’s beginning to get a little late (9 o’clock) and today may be another heavy one. But I’ll try to write often. You can now feel much reassured for it is almost over on this island and then we can have it easier.

Better stop sometimes although I feel like writing on and on if I could dig up the items.

Love,

12 May 1945

Dear folks:

Had a nice letter from Dad today so I feel like I better answer it. I could feel in the letter that you are worrying a lot, and more than you really should, because I’m sure everything will come out alright.

Nobody is talking anything else these days but discharge and rotation since the WD announced it’s new plan. But I keep feeling that someone along the line will put the kibosh on it. It seems like this outfit seldom gets a break. Today we got a furlough quota of 2 while almost everyone in the battery is eligible. You see how tough it is to get one. This is the first quota since back on Tinian. It seems like all this stuff is meat dangled in front of you but you can never quite reach it. But what I am chiefly interested in is that something takes effect before I get in another operation.

Had a letter from Aunt Edna and one from Pat today. So I rated pretty good on the mail. But I should (since) I’m trying to keep it coming by writing often. Still no mail from Wylma, can’t figure it out—at least an answer.

Early this morning the Japs sent some shells this way but it didn’t last long. The shellings are less frequent than before. According to the radio, they have killed over 38,000 Japs which is a pile of them. An infantryman told me they counted 537 Japs in one cave. As an idea of how the Japs are dug in, is well illustrated by the story D. Carroll told me. He said he saw one cave dug in a hillside capable of holding 25-30 vehicles. You can imagine how hard it is to dig them out. They use slit trenches as deep as 20 feet and pillboxes two or three stories with several exits and entrances. The hills are honeycombs of tunnels and fortified caves. But despite the better fight in the Southern end, there is great construction activity on the other, and every night the lights look like a fair sized city. When an air raid sounds one by one the lights snuff out. Then comes the buzz of a plane and suddenly the sky fills with streams of tracers, bullets, and more often than not, the plane bursts into flames and crashes. We watch the show and pull like hell that the gunners will get him. If they do, we cheer and if they don’t we think they aren’t worth a damn.

Well, so much for tonight. Tomorrow is Sunday and I hope we can have church services. We probably will. Dick is okay and so am I. I’m feeling good.

Love,

26 August 1944

Dear folks:

I just finished a game of volleyball and in this weather that’s pretty strenuous. Now I smell like a goat and will have to take a bath in a Japanese tub that we found. Our water supply for bathing and washing clothes is mostly rainwater. Almost every shack has a barrel with a drain pipe stock in the top. The day before yesterday I was out with the major and we pretty well covered all the island in his jeep. In one area at the southern end of the island we went into some of the caves where the Japs hid out when the Jig was up. There are still plenty of them there and only yesterday 64 were taken prison. We went into one large cave that had been hit with a big naval shell and we estimated there was between sixty or seventy dead ones there. In another we found two who had hanged themselves and their headless bodies were leaned against the wall and their heads still hanging on the wire. But a little time in those places and the stench nearly knocks you out, so we didn’t stick around long.

I was scheduled to see Dick last Sunday on Saipan. I was going to fly over but I couldn’t get away. Don’t know whether I will see him again or not. I wasn’t going to mention this but now that he is well and the same as ever again, I guess it’s all right. On August the 5^th he was injured when a Jap grenade went off near him and he got about a half dozen pieces in his legs and feet and back. He was sent to the hospital, and when I first got news about it I flew over to see him. When I got there he was getting along fine and able to walk in the chow line. He wouldn’t let me tell you about it and so I didn’t write anything, but he wasn’t seriously hurt so I thought is was all right. He was in the hospital until about the 11^th or 12^th and then released. He was a little shaken and damn glad to see me, but I assure you he is as fine as ever and the injury will have no effect whatsoever upon him. Undoubtedly he will be awarded the Purple Heart and maybe he has it by now. He will have plenty to tell you when he gets back. But please don’t worry for he is in the best of health.

Now that the 2^nd class mail has begun to catch up I have papers and magazines all over the place. The box of seeds came the day before yesterday and in good shape and now I can sit around and munch them when mealtime seems a long way off. Danny Gettman brings in armloads of Star Heralds and it’s a job to read all of them, but I don’t mind it. Jack Conklin and I swapped news and he told me Mildred Roberts was getting a divorce—How did it last as long as it did? He had a lot of other news and it’s all interesting. I haven’t received a letter from you for about a week now, but I suppose it will come in with a rush someday. Jack read me a few of his letters and in all of them everyone back there seems very optimistic and sees a bright future for the end of the war. I hope they don’t get too optimistic because there’s a long way to go yet, but everything does look pretty good on the whole.

Well I think I better stop and get ready to crawl in. I hope this letter doesn’t startle you and you won’t worry about Dick, because in all honesty he is fine. Yesterday two fellows left on furlough to the states and I would have given them two hundred dollars for their papers but I don’t think they would bat an eye at that price. I couldn’t blame them. Don’t get your hopes up about me getting back for the quota is so small it’s almost nothing and is more like dangling a piece of meat in front of a dog just to keep him going. Maybe the rotation plan will treat me better although that’s a year away yet. Well that’s enough for tonight, so I’ll just go to bed and think about all of you like I’ve done for a long time now.

Love,

18 July 1944

[Harold types]

Dear Folks:

Dick came down to see me today and I thought while we were laying around we just as well write you a letter – or try to. Right after we had dinner we walked along the beach road from Charan Kanoa to the end of the island looking for an army cemetery but couldn’t find it. While we were looking for the place, Dick showed me the places where his outfit landed and even where he dug his first foxhole. And we found a lot of Jap caves that were well concealed and topped over with a lot of dirt and leaves. They dig in like [illegible] caves are transforming the face of the [illegible] saw several thick walled concrete [illegible] from the point we had a good view of Tinian [illegible] over there must be thinking – if they can see what is going on [illegible] there is (a) sugar factory that stands out on the landscape. It took quite a beating from navy shells and girders and machinery are flung everywhere. From the factory runs a number of narrow gauge railroad lines. The army captured a few locomotives and now you can hear their high pitched whistle as the guys chug along using the cars to haul supplies, etc. The trains are small and look more like oversized toys. We haven’t had a look at Carapan yet and I have been itching to get up there and see what goes. The town is about ten thousand so there must be quite a lot to see. I haven’t seen a newspaper or magazine since I left Oahu and today Dick walked in with a Time magazine. I’m anxious to review it from cover to cover. I was asking Dick what I should write about and he said to mention that we will be sending home some souvenirs soon when the situation permits. I told you about the bayonet and the flag. In addition to those Dick got a wallet with quite a sum of Jap money in it, and many pictures of the officer’s family and what must be his wife. Also he got his insignia of a 2^nd lieutenant. He’ll probably have some more before it is all over. The weather here is about the same as on Oahu but right now is the season when the monsoons begin and the past few nights there have been heavy rainstorms. They say hurricanes strike near the island about once every two years and I hope this isn’t one of them. Today is pretty hot and sultry and the sand all around is hard on the eyes.

We were both wondering about Phil and whether he has come into the army yet. Every once in a while you see a crude handwritten sign over a foxhole saying Frisco 7752 miles, Tokyo 1521, and then we realize just how far away we are. Guam lies about 103 miles to the south and just to the north are the Bonims(?). It’s going to be a long boat ride home someday but we’re ready to accept it any time. And remind us never to take another ocean voyage when we get home. The food was pretty good on the boats but the chow lines are hard to buck, and the accommodations are hardly first class. Well I’m going to turn this over to Dick and let him add a few lines.

[Dick handwrites]

Today being Sunday I went to communion and then to see Harold. We’re taking it easy now after a little uneasiness. I’ll write some time later.

Love,

Dick