FIRE!!!

When my Dad was a young teenager he lay in bed in his room in the attic of his parents old wooden farm house.  There was an unusual stillness in the cold air he thought as he plumped the pillow and wrapped himself tighter in the homemade quilt trying to fall asleep in the old metal framed bed.

A horrendous BOOM and a ragged flash of lightening, the brilliance and whiteness like he’d never seen before, tore through the ceiling and struck the floor at the foot of his bed.  A nano-second later the room was engulfed in flames. He grabbed blindly for his shoes and made his way to the door and down the wooden stairs.  His young sister was screaming, his father was yelling for him to help get things out of the house, his mother in her long white nightgown was already wrapping things into a blanket to be dragged outside. The young boy rose to manhood as he thrust his shoes out the door and piled sacred belongings onto the rug and pulled them out onto the porch and into the yard away from danger. Again and again he ran in to the burning inferno to save what he could.  Finally his father yelled, “That is enough, it will have to do”.  And the family stood with smoke in their lungs and soot on their hands and faces and watched their beloved home burn to the ground. The rain drops were useless against the fierceness of the flames.

Standing there he finally realized that his feet were sore and cold and so he looked for his shoes.  What he found was one shoe and his old childhood wooden pull toy dog.  About the size of his shoe he scoffed as he remembered grabbing what he thought was a pair of shoes.  So these were his only personal belongings now; the pajamas he was wearing, one shoe and an old wooden toy.

Several years later, this boy who had become a man now but not yet twenty years old was a soldier fighting hand to hand combat on the battlefields of Okinawa.

I quote here from the November 2012 issue of the Marine Corp Gazette: 

Okinawa: The Final Great Battle of World War II

An American triumph through bloodshed

Volume 96, Issue 11

Author:  SSgt Rudy R. Frame, Jr.

The Battle of Okinawa started on 23 March 1945 with all major combat operations ending on 23 June 1945. The island of Okinawa is located approximately 350 miles south of mainland Japan. It is the largest island in the Ryukyu Island chain, the southernmost prefecture of the then-Japanese Empire. The strategic importance of this island cannot be overemphasized. In a time when an invasion of mainland Japan was necessary to end the war, Okinawa was an essential preparation ground and jumping-off point for the impending invasion. The island’s airfields were indispensable to the launching of bombers and long-range escorts for the preparatory bombing for the land invasion of mainland Japan. This battle involved the Japanese Army, minimal Japanese naval efforts (due to a lacking naval power), and the last of its airpower concentrated in mass kamikaze formations. The allied power consisted of a combined force that was largely American with some British naval support, along with the Joint Services of the U.S. Army, Marine Corps, and Navy.

At this point in the war both the Americans and the Japanese had developed their command, control, and communications in ground warfare to the best level of efficiency they could. The Japanese were far more rudimentary with a simple, straightforward concept—to kill every single American fighter possible and hold the defensive line until it was utterly broken.

This concept of defending, delaying, and withdrawing to another defensive line was a change in tactics for the Japanese. Typically the Japanese Army mounted a Banzai run once the defensive line could no longer hold, always resulting in large numbers of Japanese soldiers being torn apart by American machineguns, mortars, rifles, and an assortment of small arms. This tactical change was the brainchild of GEN Ushijima whose intent was to have his men live and hold out as long as possible in an effort to slow the American advance toward Japan. The decision as to when to withdraw to the next defensive line was made ultimately by GEN Ushijima, who received reports from his many officers along whichever one of the three defensive lines was being held at the time. GEN Ushijima held each line until its fate was sealed but there was still opportunity to tactically withdraw, set up in the defense, and start the process all over again.

The elaborate communications network under the Shuri Castle where GEN Ushijima’s headquarters was located allowed him to make informed decisions as the castle was a highly defensible position at the center point of the middle Shuri defensive line. The naval contributions of the Japanese, which were almost nonexistent, were best exemplified by the Japanese Navy’s own suicide run from their final massive 70,000 ton battleship Yamato being destroyed when it was spotted on its way to Okinawa. The Yamato was loaded up with just enough fuel to get to the American fleet and ordered to fight to the death; its strategy was to beach itself near the Shuri line and decimate American troops already pinned down by the 100,000-strong defenders of the Shuri line while also taking advantage of any opportunity to sink American ships. Japanese air power was no longer intent on defeating the Americans in head-to-head battle but was instead depending upon its kamikazes. At this battle the first mass formations of kamikazes were utilized against the 5th Fleet.

The American command, control, and communications were as efficient as they could be by 1945 after nearly 4 years of battling in the Pacific. The advancement of communications processes and independence within small units created a new level of efficiency on the battlefield. There were still command-level issues in appropriate decision making but the majority of them were eliminated as all the commanders were already battle hardened; in addition, the small unit leaders largely made up for command and control failures by improvising and adapting to every obstacle. Units had developed a cohesive esprit de corps throughout all of the units in the American Services.

On 21 June the final contact for the Battle of Okinawa began. Instead of staying on the defensive, GEN Ushijima conducted one final offensive that, if successful, would have extended the battle further. Like most of the Japanese offensives on Okinawa, it was an utter failure. Though Ushijima made his troops aware of his respect for the honor they had given the Emperor by delaying the Americans for nearly 3 months, it was not enough. Ushijima wrote the following in a letter before committing ritual suicide on the 22 June:

To my great regret we are no longer able to continue the fight. For this failure I tender deepest apologies to the Emperor and the people of the homeland. We will make one final charge to kill as many of the enemy as possible. I pray for the souls of men killed in battle and for the prosperity of the Imperial Family.

On 23 June all major combat operations ended on the island of Okinawa. Over the 3 month battle more than 8 million artillery and mortar rounds were fired, the equivalent of more than 1 round per second. For some, the silence after the battle was over was almost deafening. In total, more than 12,000 American service members were killed and more than 38,000 wounded (many from combat fatigue) or missing. The Japanese military lost more than 110,000, but the greatest loss of life by the Okinawan people. Anywhere from 40,000 to 150,000 of the Okinawans perished during the battle. Even with all the carnage, it was at Okinawa that the largest number of Japanese soldiers were taken prisoner (more than 7,000—an unprecedented number).

My Dad was there day and night through the thick of it, a Top Sargent leading his squad of brave soldiers.

And then…it was over and the “silence was almost deafening.”

He was assigned to peace keeping duties in Tokyo. He initiated the plan and then directed the building of a small movie theatre and helped teach the young Japanese boys how to play baseball and served with the Military Police. 

Walking back to the barracks after dinner one evening he heard the unmistakable cry of “FIRE!”  He ran around the corner to see the large barrack building consumed in flames. Oh boy, he’d seen this before, another home being burned to the ground.  Without a moment’s hesitation he ran inside to grab his most precious possession, the photo in a small brass frame of his young and  beautiful wife, the one that he had carried through the entire battle. The one that gave him the courage to fight and to survive at all costs. The photo of the love of his life who would bare his children into a world that was now safe for them. There was no time to grab anything else.

How his life changed in these horrible times.  How brave he was! I was born a bit over 7 years later.  He was a loving father who taught us to be patriotic as he removed his hat and put it over his heart as a tear would fall from his eye when the uniformed color guard would march by with the flag in our small town’s big parades. The reverence and honor for the flag remained the same through his life, whether at 4^th of July celebrations or baseball games, always a tear, always his hat held over his heart.

I awoke early this morning thinking that I needed to write and think about these experiences of my Dad. Perhaps it was because the last thing I read last night was a quote by Gordon B. Hinckley:

“It is good to look to the past to gain appreciation for the present and perspective for the future.  It is good to look upon the virtues of those who have gone before, to gain strength for whatever lies ahead.”

The day Dale died was like a lightning bolt had ripped through my life and then the silence became deafening. Emotions and loss so powerful that I will never, ever be the same. My life changed.  So many of the precious things are gone. And I’m left to deal with the charred remains of my heart. I fill my days with things that I deem important or valuable and muster on but the fact remains that rebuilding from the fire that raged through me (and flares up still) will keep taking time. But it is a powerful realization I've had today that my father went through terrible ordeals, survived and mentored me with his stories and the privilege to observe him overcome  those devastating experiences to become a successful husband, father, religious leader and human being that many years later gives me the strength for whatever lies ahead.

Thank you Dad.  I love you.