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From Returned Missionaries
Dwayne N. Andersen-Excerpts from Autobiography
INTO MILITARY SERVICE
In early November 1944 I was inducted into the military at Fort Douglas, Utah, and then sent to Camp Roberts in San Luis Obispo, California, for basic training. This was a very rigorous and difficult experience, since I had recently returned from a mission and was not physically ready for such activities. We were next sent to Fort Ord on the Monterey Peninsula for amphibious training. At the end of this instruction, we were allowed to go home for a few days. When we returned, we were loaded on trains and sent to Fort Lawson in Seattle, Washington. At this base we were not to be given any leaves or passes, so a few of us L.D.S. men went without leave, knowing that all they could do was ship us out; and we were scheduled for that, anyway!
We visited the Queen Anne Ward and later went to a dance there. The members of the ward treated us royally. As our ship left Seattle for Hawaii, a heavy storm came up, causing high waves. Even the Captain became sick, in addition to many of the men. I was able to weather the trip without seasickness. Since my last name started with “A,” I was always at the beginning of lists for duties. My first assignment was to watch over a huge coffee pot. One had to climb a ladder to put the coffee grounds into the hot water. I told my leaders that I couldn’t stand the smell of coffee, so they changed me to another duty. I often wished my name started with some other letter, because every time we changed locations or went onto the ship, etc. they always started with the first of the alphabet for K.P. duty, which was in the kitchen. I was a little resentful since they never seemed to reach the end of the alphabet before we moved on. I developed a case of dishwater hands!
Within seven months I was thrilled to be back in the land of paradise, Hawaii. Here we were given additional training in jungle and amphibious landing. We were kept very busy, so I was not able to visit the members. My brother-in-law, Lewis Rawlinson, was stationed a short distance from us. David Weeks and I arranged to meet him and went AWOL. We weren’t worried because the punishment would only be to ship us out. We were already on our way for that!
About the end of March 1945, we left Hawaii for Saipan. It was a sad thing to watch the men on the ship each day, as we came closer and closer to the war area. They became more sober and solemn. David Weeks and I didn’t experience the fear that these men were having. We seemed to have calm spirits, knowing the Lord was watching over us. When Sunday came around, we had already found a number of other LDS boys on the ship. We wanted to hold a sacrament meeting, so I went to the chaplain to ask for a room. He was surprised that a group of us were able to have a meeting on our own. I told him that we were Latter -Day- Saints and held the Priesthood so that we could perform the ordinances of the sacrament and hold our own meetings. He gave us permission; and we had our meeting in the morning. He also asked if I would speak at a Sunday evening vesper service to be held on the deck for any of the servicemen who desired to attend.
It was my privilege to speak to hundreds of servicemen who were worried about facing battle. I was able to bear my testimony and tell them about Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, and the Atonement, and that they were always available to give us comfort and help in our times of need through the power of prayer. I spoke of other things, also, and felt the meeting went very well. The Chaplain expressed great appreciation for what I had said. Since David and I were headed into the Pacific Area, we knew we would be in contact with the Japanese. Both of us knew a few words in Japanese and knew pronunciations, so we obtained a military language manual and began trying to memorize some of the simpler Japanese phrases. Some of the phrases were:
“Te o agete”-meaning, raise your hands.
“Dete koi” - meaning, come out.
“Ko san shiro”-meaning, surrender.
“Shimpai shinai de” - meaning, don’t worry.
“Wakarimasuka” - meaning, do you understand?
There were a few other phrases, but I do not recall them. We did have a great time studying these words, hoping to be able to use them in battle. We eventually landed on Saipan, which was an island that had been taken from the Japanese and had become a military base for the United States. We spent about two weeks there with nothing to do. The only real excitement was that once in a while we had Japanese snipers shooting into our camp. Then we would send out a patrol to flush them out. One other thing of interest was that flying foxes came out of the caves and flew over our heads, so thick that we could hardly see through them. They blackened the sky and we could not see the stars. We threw rocks up trying to hit them, but with their special radar, they avoided any collisions. Towards the end of our stay in Saipan I was surprised to have Bro. Herb Adams, a Colonel from Brigham City, looking for me. When the U.S. soldiers took over Saipan, he had been put in charge of the government of the island. He was a lawyer by profession. He made arrangements to have me come to his headquarters to view some films he had of the B-29 flights as they bombed Tokyo. The day I was to visit him, we were ordered without notice to board the ship and prepare for departure. Again, I was put on K.P. and was also on the advance party that boarded the ship first.
After we were settled into our duties, the rest of the infantrymen were brought aboard. We were placed down in the bottom of the ship with five bunks stacked one on top of the other, with barely enough room to crawl in and get out of the bunks without bumping our heads. As we were lying upon our bunks waiting for the ship to leave, a Colonel came down through the corridor, moving the soldiers to the side as he walked, asking for Dwayne Andersen. It was Colonel Adams. We visited for some time, while the other privates stood around, wondering what a Colonel was doing, talking happily with a private. Later, I learned that the ship was held up until Colonel Adams was finished with his visit with me.
We began our cruise into the Pacific Ocean, heading somewhat south to a little atoll, called Eniwetok, in the Marshall Islands, not far from the equator. It was only two or three miles long and flat so that we could see right over the island. We were not permitted to go ashore, but had to stay in the ship and wait down in our quarters. It was so hot and stuffy that perspiration was running off our bodies and often dropped off the bunk above to the bunk below. (This must have been quite hot, for I do not usually perspire!) After sweltering there for a few days, we received orders to head north and west to the island of Okinawa. It is the largest island of the Ryukyu chain of islands, about 1500 miles west and south of Tokyo. Although the Okinawans are oriental, they were a little different from the Japanese. They have their own language and were smaller in build, and a little darker skin. These islands were invaded and taken over by the Japanese about 60 years prior to this time. The climate is similar to Hawaii, and the island was very important to the Japanese defense. It had a seaport and base from which the Japanese launched a lot of their invasions of the other islands in the Pacific.
The U.S. forces made their initial invasion of Okinawa about the first part of May 1945. They landed on the northern part of the island and moved south. They found very little resistance until they reached the Shuri Line. The Shuri Line was an underground fortification, similar to the Maginot Line in France, and was said to be even more strongly fortified than Maginot. When the U.S. forces reached this spot, they were pinned down and unable to move forward for a short time. As our ship approached the island, we could see airplanes divebombing into the Japanese targets. It was interesting to note that while some of them made deep dives close to the ground, others made a shallow dive to drop bombs. We felt sure that the planes making the shallow dips were the married pilots; and those who dived deep were single pilots. We waited until dark to land. I was surprised and excited as we made the landing. The area we landed at was just like a city with many lights on the shore. After going inland a short distance from the beach, we began to dig our foxholes and prepare for the night. While making camp, we heard a siren and all the lights went out. It was my first air raid. One Japanese plane flew not far from us, quite low, and then went on, not seeming to drop anything or cause any damage. The all-clear sign was made and the lights went back on. The next day I was sad to be separated from David Weeks and taken to the Kadena Air Base.
This base was a Japanese Air Base that the U.S. took over and enlarged. Now the U.S. planes were using this as a landing strip and re-fueling base. We were told to dig a foxhole and build a cover over it with some material provided to us. I did not understand why we needed to cover over our foxholes, but later it became very apparent. That night we had various waves of Japanese planes dive-bombing to destroy the U.S. planes on the airfield. These air raids were some of the most beautiful fire-works shows I have ever seen. The airplanes entered our air space, the searchlights went up, the tracer shells filled the air with streaks of light behind them; and they would converge at a spot, usually behind the airplane and explode. Gradually the converging of the exploding shells moved up until it hit the plane; and the plane would start on fire, making a tailspin down to the earth, where it exploded in a ball of fire. The purpose of the cover over our foxholes was to prevent us from being hit by the shrapnel coming from the shells exploding above us.
From Kadena I was taken to a base where the 96th Division was stationed. This division had been on the front lines from the beginning at the north end and had lost a lot of soldiers as they reached the Shuri Line. They had been taken off the front lines to receive replacements. I was to be one of those replacements. While waiting to be assigned, I became acquainted with the only other LDS man in our company, a Bro. Chapman from American Fork, Utah. Instantly we became the best of friends. Fortunately we ended up in the same platoon. He was married and had a little girl. When we were interviewed by the company commander, we asked if we could be assigned together. He told us that the only way we could be together was, that if one carried the Browning Automatic Rifle and the other, acted as the ammunition carrier. He said the Browning rifleman had the highest casualty rate of any position on the front lines. This was kind of frightening, but after thinking and praying, we decided we still wanted to be together. I was to be the rifleman and he, the ammunition carrier.
After the 96th Division had a short rest and then received replacements, they received the assignment to spearhead the assault on the Shuri Line. When the announcement came, I felt calm because I was armed with a few Japanese phrases, I had a love for the Japanese people and a loyalty to my church and country, and believed strongly the principles for which we were fighting. I felt prepared to enter into the battle of Okinawa. Our division was moved up into its place on the front lines. We spent most of the day firing artillery shells, mortar shells, and small arms at the hill just in front of us. The hill was about 200 feet high, and the shelling had stripped it of all vegetation. In the afternoon we were ordered to attack the hill. Our division was to spearhead the attack. Our company was to be first; and in our company, our platoon was to be first; and in our platoon, our squad was to be first. The squad leader went first, and I followed him, with my ammunition carrier behind me. We came around the side of the hill we were on and started down into the valley. There was a trench alongside the hill. My squad leader was going to jump over the trench into the little field of sugar cane stubble. He went to jump, and he saw that the trench was wider and deeper than he thought; and he tried to stop. He grabbed onto some roots and stubs on the side of the hill. I had to pull him out of the trench. We went further up the valley where the trench was not so wide. We jumped across and started running across the field.
Machine guns opened up on us, and the ground was filled with popping shells kicking up dust and dirt. Even though the Browning Automatic Rifle was considerably heavier than a regular rifle, in addition to its ammunition clips, I beat the squad across the valley to the other side! We went up the side of the hill a ways and were asked to “dig in.” We dug foxholes about 18 inches deep and wide enough and long enough for two men to lie down and get away from the shrapnel shells exploding around us. The rest of the afternoon I watched the panorama of war about me. I could see to other hills where our men were advancing on Japanese fortifications. We could have fired on those fortifications, but we were forbidden to do so for fear we might fire on our own men. That day many Japanese and U.S. soldiers were killed. That was my “baptism of fire” into the war!
Feelings of fear and frustration mounted in my heart as I witnessed the devastation of lives and property about me. A feeling of emptiness filled my heart as I watched my buddies being wounded or killed. It was an incredible experience. The company soldiers knew that I had learned a few Japanese phrases, so whenever they thought they had found someone in a cave, or any other kind of prisoner, they asked me to come and talk with them.
Towards the late afternoon of that first day, someone saw something in a cave not far from where we were. The captain called me and a few others to go over to the cave and try to get “them” out. I went near the cave and called: “Dete koi” which means, come out-and “Kosan shiro” which means, surrender; but there was no activity that we could see. We of course had to stand at the side of the cave because standing in front would make us perfect targets for a soldier if military were inside. After a few moments of trying with words to coax anyone out, we decided to throw in a phosphorous grenade. This grenade burns with a nauseating smoke that almost makes a smoke screen. We tossed in a couple of these in hopes we could get “whoever” to come out. Nothing happened. We were just about ready to leave when I turned to look again.
There came a little girl, about ten years old, with tears running down her face, coughing from the nauseating gas. To her side was another little girl, about four years old. We moved them out a ways from the entrance of the cave so they could get some fresh air. The Japanese soldiers told the Okinawan people that it would be better for them to die than to be captured by the U.S. Thus, they were very fearful of the American soldiers; but after telling her we would not harm her, and asking her if she understood what I was trying to say, she answered: “Wakarimasu.,” meaning she understood me. She pointed to the cave and said: “Obaasan, obaasan,” meaning grandmother. We entered the cave, and there was an old woman, sitting on the floor, crying and coughing. She was unable to walk, so some of the men picked her up and walked out into the fresh air.
I tried to make friends with the little girl, but she seemed very frightened. Finally, I took a piece of hard candy, wrapped in cellophane, and told her: “okashi, dozo,” which means, please take the candy. She pushed my hand towards me, so I took a piece of candy, unwrapped it, and put it into my mouth. Then, seeing that the candy did not cause me harm, she took it and gave a piece to her little sister. I was told to take them to a rear guard area where they would be put into a truck and taken to prison camp. I took the hand of the little girl; and she held the hand of her sister. Two others picked up the grandmother under the arms and carried her back to the rear area. On the way, we passed a little ravine that had water in it. The little girl said to me: “Mizu, o kudasai,” which means, some water, please. I told her she could go to the stream. On the banks of the stream were a few plants. One of them had a large leaf. She took the leaf and made it into a cup, then got some water and brought it to her grandmother. Then she went back and got some water for her little sister before she took a drink for herself. What a sweet and cute child. It was fascinating to watch the tender care she gave to her grandmother and little sister. When we reached the rear guard, the men there loaded them on a truck and took them to a prison camp.
On the way back, the two men who had carried the old woman began to scratch. Soon they discovered that they were covered with fleas from the grandmother. I didn’t have any fleas on me because I had only held the hand of the little girl. They were a little upset with me because their job was to carry the old woman, receiving fleas from it; but I didn’t have any!
As we continued our attack, hill-by-hill, we came to a small village. It was empty, but we searched in the caves situated near their homes, which were just tiny huts. In one cave we saw an old man and some women, children, and a baby. With rifles in position to shoot if necessary, we walked into the cave. In one corner was a blanket covering something. We told them to remove the blanket. Instead they just stood with their hands held up in the air, not moving. My buddy covered me, with his rifle ready, and I went over to the blanket and lifted it off. We were expecting a hiding soldier, but it was a young lady whom they were trying to protect. We finally took them out and sent them back to the rear, also. The little children were covered with sores all over their faces from fleas and infection. It was a pitiful sight! Of course these people were civilians of Okinawa, caught in the middle of the war, and suffered a great deal. They were malnourished and sick with unsightly sores, but fortunately, I was able to get many of them out of caves and back to the rear area, where they were taken to prison camps. There they would be safe.
One dark night we heard voices and sounds of people coming toward our foxholes. In the darkness we could not see at all. But the soldiers started firing in the direction of the voices. There was screaming and crying as they went for cover. There was one baby that just kept crying. The soldiers kept firing but could not silence the cry. The pitiful crying of the baby kept me awake most of the night. The next morning I went out with some other soldiers to survey what had happened. There were a number of women and children who were out of their caves, walking, searching for food–just women and children! They found that the mother of the baby had been killed, and the baby was clinging to her mother and crying. I gathered the people together and tried to have some of them take care of the baby; but they refused to touch the baby. Finally, I was able to get a young girl about 18 years old to take the baby and get into the truck where they were taken back to the prison camp. There the baby could get some proper care. One day we were advancing up a ravine. It was heading toward one of the larger hills on the Shuri Line. Evidently this ravine was covered with machine gun fire and mortar shells from the position of the Japanese, higher up the hill. Suddenly a mortar shell exploded near me. I felt something hit me in the right cheek as if I had been hit with a hammer. I saw stars and began to bleed profusely. I was grateful for the medics who risked their lives to come to my rescue to prepare me to go back to a medical location in the rear of our front lines. At the medical facility they removed the piece of shrapnel from my cheek. It had punctured the bone into the sinus, but was not too serious. I was kept there for four or five days and then sent back to the front lines. I had to pick my way through the various military groups, trying to find my company and platoon. I found my platoon pinned down behind a ridge.
When I was wounded, my buddy, Bro. Chapman, took over the Browning rifle while I was gone. So when I got to where my buddies were, I asked where he was. They pointed to a hill in front of us not far away. I looked up to where they were pointing. There was his body on the side of the hill. They told me they had started to advance up the hill in front of them, receiving some crossfire from behind, and so had withdrawn back to the ridge. Bro. Chapman had been hit directly with a shell in the head and was killed instantly. They had retreated so fast that they were not able to get him off the hill because of his being in complete exposure to the machine gun across the way. I’ll never forget that first night when I took my turn at the “watch.” I told them I would take the watch for the entire night because I just could not sleep. Every time a flare would be shot up into the air, I could see my buddy’s body lying over on the hill. If I had not been wounded, and was not back in the hospital, that would have been me lying dead on that side of the hill! Thoughts kept running through my mind concerning his wife and little daughter, being left behind at home. It was an agonizing night. I did not feel anger, but sorrow for his family who would not be able to welcome him home.