メリディアン
日本語
帰還宣教師から
From Returned Missionaries
Dwayne N. Andersen-Excerpts from Autobiography
Part IV-Military Continued
We were pinned down for three or four days in that position, and his body lay up on that side of the hill. I tried to get permission to take some men and retrieve the body, but the answer was no. Finally I convinced our captain to call up a smokescreen to cover the area, so that a group of us could go get his body. Three other men agreed to join me, but by the time we reached the body, he was filled with maggots. He was so heavy that it was all the four of us could do to lift him onto a stretcher to carry him back down and send off his body to be taken care of properly. I discovered the location of the machine gun across the ravine, which was holding us down. I rose up and fired 15 rounds, which is a clip of the Browning rifle, into the machine gun nest. Then I would go to another spot, firing 15 rounds again and again, about three times, until the machine gun was finally silenced. After this, we were able to move up the hill in front of us. Later, I was awarded the Bronze Star for that incident.
Because it was such a warm climate and so many dead people and animals around, the flies multiplied until they were very thick. On some of the bushes where the leaves had been burned off by artillery shells, the branches were now covered with hordes of flies. The flies were so sticky that we could not scare them off our clothes, but had to concentrate in brushing them off. I had never seen anything like that in my life.
The last day on the front lines was very memorable. We had before us the last hill of the Shuri Line. We spent a good part of the day, just firing on the one side of the hill and cleaning it off from any rocks or brush where someone might be hiding. We fired all day and towards late afternoon we were told to advance on the hill. As we were coming up the side of the hill in a line with about eight or nine feet between each soldier, we fired at anything we thought we saw ahead of us. When we had almost reached the top of the hill, I heard machine gun bullets popping past my ear. I thought someone was behind me shooting. I turned around and no one was behind me. And then looking forward, I saw in the grass about 20 feet away at the top of the ledge, the barrel of a machine gun spitting out bullets. It was a miracle that I was not hit. I felt the protection of the Lord at that time. I raised the Browning rifle and fired a clip of shells right at the machine gun. Of course this action held us up, and we all took cover and began throwing hand grenades over into the direction of the machine gun. In a few minutes someone was able to see a Japanese soldier, wounded, and then running away; but he was shot by one of our soldiers.
We then advanced on up to the top of the hill, where we found the gun. I had hit the machine gun with my rounds of fire and jammed the bolt with the shells. The ledge was such that the man was able to crouch behind the ledge, and with the machine on top, reaching his hand up and firing aimlessly down the hill. He wasn’t very wise, because he knew he was going to die. He had been left to harass the troops and slow down our movements. If he would have just stood up and sprayed down the hill with the machine gun, he could have killed many of our soldiers, including me, before he was hit. So, I was grateful that he handled it the way he did!
After we secured the hill, we went down into the valley beyond. (We had finally broken through the famous “Shuri Line.”) There was a little mound area ahead of us. We were told to dig in for the night, so four of us dug a foxhole together. As we looked around, we found an opening in the side of the hill with a trench, deeper than the opening hole and getting smaller going out. The hole had bamboo-like bars covering its opening. We felt there was nothing to worry about coming out of that opening, so the four of us settled in our foxhole. One was to sit up on guard while the other three slept. But the night was full of activity with many Japanese crawling around. There were hand grenades going off with continued shooting and flares lighting up the sky. When a hand grenade was thrown, we had been instructed to shout “grenade” so that everyone on guard could take cover in foxholes. I heard our buddy on guard shout “grenade.” I sat up, then immediately crouched down again. While doing this, I noticed something in the trench to the side of us, which was about eight or nine feet away. I thought our guard had thrown a grenade into that trench, but he had thrown his grenade in another direction. The next thing I heard was a blood-curdling scream from the Japanese soldier as he came out of the trench, swinging a bayonet, headed for our foxhole. I grabbed an M-l that was close, but it was stuck from the mud and rain. The buddy on the other side of our foxhole shot between me and the buddy on guard and hit the Japanese two or three times as he continued to run towards us. The buddy on guard raised his rifle and brought it down on the head of the soldier, as he fell across our foxhole. He fell right over my feet. The bayonet that he had came down between the legs of the buddy still sleeping. It caused a slight cut in the side of his thigh. We of course threw the man out of our foxhole after having blood scattered all over the foxhole. My buddy on guard was delirious. It was so traumatic that he was emotionally upset enough that he had to be sent back from the front lines for treatment.
When daylight came, we surveyed around our foxhole and found that there were many Japanese killed. Then, while going down an irrigation ditch, we noticed some movement. There must be some people there, we thought. I tried to call to them in Japanese, hoping they would surrender or come out; but they did not. So, our group had to throw hand grenades and shoot straight into the spot. When there was finally some silence, we went to check and found three dead, Japanese soldiers. One of them had a German luger, with Japanese marks on it, which I picked up as a souvenir. We stayed at this location for quite some time because divisions on either side had cut us off since we had broken through the Shuri Line. They moved on up to secure the rest of the island, which was an easy job from then on. We had discovered that we were right on the top of a large underground hospital, and that was why there was so much activity around us during the night. Now that we were no longer in the front lines, we were sent back to bury the dead soldiers and civilians behind us. We used shovels to bury them so that the flies would not produce more maggots.
In one area there was a culvert about three and a half feet high, under a road. We could see that there was something in the middle of the culvert. I went in to check it out. Putting my shovel between two boards, I twisted it and noticed that someone was under the boards. I stepped back, intending to try to get them out, and to surrender; but the other American soldier with me just unloaded his M-l right into the board, ripping them all up. When there was no sound or movement, we removed the boards and found a man and a woman clothed in Japanese soldier’s uniforms. I don’t know how they could lie down under those boards so still, but they had done so; and they were killed rather than being captured, because of the trigger-finger of the soldier with me.
In another place I came across some American soldiers surrounding an old woman, probably a grandmother, crying, as she was digging a hole. I asked the soldiers what was going on. They said she was digging her grave, and she knew it. I convinced them that they should not do such a thing and was able to get her out of the hole and back to a prison camp. She was very, very grateful.
I neglected to say that I was hit by another piece of shrapnel from a mortar shell that exploded near us. This time it was on the right side of my face, under my chin. The medics determined that it was too small for me to be sent back from the front lines. They did not try to dig it out, but put a bandage on it, leaving it there. Since I was wounded twice, I was later presented with two Purple Hearts. Fortunately, neither one of these injuries were very serious.
Let me go back, now, and share with you some of the routine things of the battle at Okinawa. Before the 96th Division was put up on the front lines, my companion, Bro. Chapman and I had made it a point to find other LDS men in our area, so when we were on the front lines, I received permission to gather these men on a Sunday for sacrament and a little meeting discussion. That is, when we were not heavily involved in battle. Fortunately we were able to gather together and partake of the sacrament almost every Sunday, except for the times when we were heavily in battle. The war for me was a matter of moving from one hill to the next. We would secure a hill, then move up near the top, dig ourselves in for the night. We dug foxholes for either two or four people. These foxholes were about eight or ten feet apart from each other, going in the line of our troops. At night we were to stay in our foxholes and keep down. We were ordered to shoot immediately anything that moved, because we knew that all of OUR troops should be in their foxholes. We would shoot or throw grenades through the night, back and forth over the hill. It was during the night, especially, that the Japanese would infiltrate over into our area, crawling around. They were very quiet and could throw grenades into our foxholes on our side of the hill. Most of the Japanese that we killed were done so during the night. I never got into any face-to-face combat with a Japanese soldier. Also during the night a flare would be shot from time to time into the air that would light up the whole area, coming down in a little parachute. With this light, we were able to see for a few moments everything around us. We still stayed in our foxholes and never attempted to stand up.
For the first few days we had blankets to put down for those nights on that cold ground in the foxholes, often damp and rainy. In the morning our bedrolls were gathered up and put in a pile some distance behind the lines. We’d only been on the front lines a few days when our bedrolls were blown up. From then on, all we had were our ponchos. We put one on the ground and one over us to try to sleep through the night. Fortunately, the weather was not too cold, but it was rainy. Our food was in the form of K-rations, which consisted of cans of soup: chicken, vegetable, meat and beans for the evening meals. Breakfast was a can filled with dried cereal. We could fix it with powdered milk and sometimes chocolate flavor. In our lunches we had sometimes chocolate candy or wrapped candy. For some reason I could not eat any of the canned soups except the meat and beans; so all the time I was on the front lines I had cereal for breakfast, meat and beans for lunch, and meat and beans for supper. Other men didn’t like the meat and beans, so I had no trouble trading with them.
We had an explosive called Compound C. It came in 2-inch square packages, six or seven inches long. We could open the package and the compound was yellow, like play-dough. When lighting it, we had a stove to warm up our food or get a hot drink of chocolate. As we prepared to advance over to another hill, the artillery would fire over our heads onto the side of the next hill to prepare and soften up the ground. Sometimes the shells were short and would fall behind on our side of the hill. The closest artillery to me occurred one day when one of our shells fell short and exploded about nine feet away from my foxhole. The explosion was deafening, and my ears were ringing for several hours afterwards. The Japanese artillery in front of us would fire a shot and then there would be a barrage of artillery from our army, which would blow over our heads and silence the Japanese. At night I lay in the foxhole with the artillery shimmering over our heads. They made a swishing sound, twisting in the air above us.
At nights I felt closer to the Lord than any other time. It was as if I could reach up and take His hand. I felt so close and protected by his loving care. I always prayed every night, and of course had a prayer in my heart at all times, for the protection of the Lord. Some of the soldiers in the platoon noticed that I was rather calm all the time. Some of them asked me to teach them how to pray, because they had never really prayed before. So I had a good opportunity to introduce the Lord to my buddies.
One of the biggest nuisances on the front lines were the fleas. We crossed over some areas where the Japanese had been; and we sometimes picked up fleas. These fleas would crawl around the tight parts of our clothing, such as boots or belts, and annoy us at night when we were trying to sleep. We had been instructed not to go into the caves, but since the American soldiers are very curious, they seemed to do it anyway. I remember one soldier went into one of the caves as we passed by and came out, throwing his shirt off, jumping and bouncing. By the time he finally got out and away from the cave, he was covered with red spots all over him–bites of the fleas. He looked just like he had red measles. He had learned a hard lesson. Since we were in a hilly area, most of the fighting was done by foot soldiers in the infantry. The only mechanized equipment I saw were jeeps coming up once in a while to bring us food or mail. On a few occasions, a flame-throwing tank was brought to burn off a grassy area or some sugar cane–just to make sure that the enemy was not hiding in these places. The flamethrower could kill a person immediately. They were frozen in the position that they were in when the flames struck them. Now that the island was secure and the fighting, at least my fighting was over, I came to three powerful realizations from this war experience: (1) a love for my country and the blessings of freedom; (2) a closer bond with my Father in Heaven and His Beloved Son and a deep appreciation for the comfort and protection They gave me while I was in battle; (3) an increased love and respect for the Japanese people (NOT the Japanese soldiers).
After the island was secured, an LDS servicemen’s conference was held at the top of the Shuri Line. I went to the conference, never before realizing that there were so many LDS men involved in the conflict. What a marvelous, spiritual conference as they each expressed their gratitude for the protection of the Lord as they performed their duties in battle. Shortly after the conference, our division was loaded on LSTs and sent to the Philippines to prepare for spearheading the attack on the mainland of Japan. As we were traveling to the Philippines, we had a hurricane encompass us. That was an interesting experience. We had to take everything off the deck and stay below. We did have a window through which we could look out at the top of the stairs; and I could see the deck buckle under the stress of the waves. It was so severe that I was afraid the LST was going to break in the middle. It was very frightening as the LST is not as safe as some of the larger ships.
Enroute to the Philippines we received news of the dropping of the Atomic Bomb. It was almost unbelievable to hear of the power of that bomb. We read the telegram over and over again; and we wondered if it could possibly be true. We also discussed what effects this would have on the war. We landed on the island of Mindoro and set up our camps. I remember on occasions how the rain came down in the Philippines almost as if you were standing under a waterfall. On the really heavy storms at night our tents would be loosened from the ground, and the tent would fall down upon us. Then we had to get out and put them back up again in the rain.
The rain was not cold, thank goodness, and we were able to put our tents back uprightly. Shortly after we arrived in Mindoro, the First Sargent in our company asked me if I would like to become a First Sergeant. I was a PFC at the time; and I thought about it overnight.
We would be going home soon, as it seemed to be close to the end of the war. So I did not want to become a First Sgt., but he convinced me that even if I did get home because of the end of the war, it would be better to have the higher rank. All we were doing at this time was playing softball and volleyball, having tournaments. We were not involved in any war practices or activities. Thus I decided to give it a try to become a First Sergeant. He began training me in September 1945. Our LDS servicemen were gathering each Sunday for meetings and holding our sacrament and priesthood meetings. It was interesting that almost every Sunday for a short time I went to church with one more stripe on my rank–first a corporal, then a Sergeant, then a staff sergeant, then up to the first sergeant.. During a three-month period I moved from a PFC to First Sergeant. After I received this last rank, they froze the rank of First Sgt. because the war was over.
The Army had developed a point system based upon the length of time in combat, the number of times you were wounded, and any other honors that one was given. If a soldier had enough points of 38, he would be sent home with a discharge. Because I was wounded twice and received a bronze star and had been in the front lines for two months, I had earned 39 points, making it enough to return home. But because I had been overseas only six months, it was decided not to return me home with the bulk of the 96th Division. Thus I was transferred to Luzon, the main island in the Philippines, to the 77th Division, which was located in a place called Merikina Resolve. The Captain in the company to which I was assigned was LDS; but he was not active. He introduced me to a staff sergeant named Lionel Walker, who was to show me around the headquarters and living quarters of our company. As I became acquainted with him, I was very impressed. He was clean-cut, tall, with a good build. As he took me around to the living quarters, we came to the tent where his sleeping quarters were. At the end of his bed was a footlocker, which he opened. I saw a picture of the Salt Lake Temple on the inside cover. I asked him if he were LDS. He answered yes; and asked me the same question. Both of us had thought the other was LDS, even though we did not know until then.
It was interesting to me how the LDS stood out and were recognized even though they did not declare their religious belief. While in church meetings in Mindanou I met another LDS fellow named Louis A. Fife, who later became a very close friend. He was also transferred into the motor pool within the 77th Division, so we were not very far apart. The three of us arranged to get together continually, spending a lot of time, along with two other LDS fellows. Louis Fife had become well acquainted with some laundry girls named Henrietta, Rita, and Lena. The army began holding regular dances not far from where we were, so we took these three Filipino girls to these dances. They were very good dancers; and we enjoyed attending dances there. Louie and I were able to get jeeps for transportation, as well as passes allowing us to go out of camp on weekends. We were also able to attend all of our Sunday church meetings. I learned a few words of Tagalog. One afternoon I went to get a pass at our battalion headquarters. The colonel there told me that a new ruling had been passed that a soldier would not be given a pass unless he accepted condoms to take with him. I explained to him that I was LDS and did not need those kinds of things. But he insisted that it was a rule and I would have to do it. I told him that I would not go on pass, then, and returned to my company headquarters. Not very long afterwards, the colonel came down to me with a pass and apologized. From then on, I was able to get passes without complying with that rule.
Another experience to help pass the time was when Louie Fife took Henrietta, Lionel Walker took Lena, and I took Rita up to a place called Pugsanon Falls. It was a very exciting trip by car up into the mountains. We hired dugout canoes to take us up the river to the falls. Each canoe had two oarsmen, one in front and one in back, which carried two people. After a smooth ride for a distance, we came to some rapids where the men had to get out into the river and push and pull the canoe through the rapids. Other parts of the trip were in still, deep waters, with rock walls straight up on either side of us. The rock cliffs were covered with hanging vines and green foliage. What a beautiful place. Occasionally we saw an Iguana, a large lizard, four or five feet long. At the end of the journey appeared the Pugsanon Falls with a sparkling pool at its base. We would swim and picnic for a couple of hours and then return. On the return trip, it was very exciting because they would “shoot the rapids” coming down. So we passed our time in the Philippines with many happy experiences, sometimes with girls, and sometimes without. Towards the end of my stay in the Philippines I was given an R & R leave to go up to a place called Baggio, which was some distance from where we lived. I had to go by bus. At one point we had to travel on a switchback road right up to the mountains. It was as if we were going straight up into the clouds. In some places we skidded around corners, and we could look down into gulleys thousands of feet below. It was frightening, as the bus drivers were trying to scare us as we went around corners. At the top we came into a valley among the clouds. Oh, what a beautiful valley; and there was the city Baggio. It was the summer capitol of the Philippines. I was privileged to be there when the Philippines received their independence from the United States, July 4, 1946. They held a huge celebration. I was invited to the Independence Banquet in the community, which was a great privilege to be there with the public leaders and see the joy they felt upon receiving their independence.
An interesting thing I noticed in Baggio was that the men and women smoked cigarettes backwards, with the lit end in their mouth. I guess they had to swallow the ashes. I spent an enjoyable year in the Philippines from August 1945 until August 1946. Five months we were on the island of Mindoro and seven months on the island of Luzon, in a place called Merikina Resolve. The trip by ship from the Philippines to California seemed like it was forever; but we finally did arrive in Oakland. It was a great thrill to sail under the Golden Gate Bridge and “feel at Home.” We were sent to Camp Beal to wait to be discharged. There were an unusual number of soldiers waiting for discharge, so they gave us a leave of absence. The three of us went to Pioche, Nevada, where Lionel Walker lived. We got a car and drove to Brigham City, so Louie and I could visit with our families. After a short visit at home, we returned to Camp Beal where we received honorable discharges in October 1946. I was very glad to have had that military experience in battle. I was able to see foreign lands, and it brought me closer to my Father in Heaven, and also many other joyful experiences. However, I would not want to go through such an experience of battle again. Because of my two wounds in battle, I was given a 10% disability payment monthly for the rest of my life. It started out as only a few dollars, but through the years increased to be a help to my income.