Last week we discussed the Battle for Port Moresby, and touched on the failed Japanese landing at Milne Bay in late August 1942. I mentioned the U.S. 32nd Division, which was formed by joining almost all of Wisconsin's and Michigan's National Guard Units. Of notable significance was the involvement of Company K, from Green County. The war no longer was a far-away affair; even peaceful and reclusive communities in the Midwest were directly involved.
Folks, I recently had the pleasure of sitting down with a good friend who grew up here in Monroe. Although he was not a farm kid, he loved horses. Before he was of age, he enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps - the pay seemed good. As I listened to my friend speak, he took me from a humble and peaceful start in Monroe, to military training in Hawaii. He fought in chest-deep swamp at Guadalcanal, climbed Mount Suribachi with a flamethrower on his back, and witnessed the second flag raising. After the war, he was part of a peacekeeping force on Japan - but don't let the term fool you; it was far from peaceful. My friends, I have read countless books on the Pacific, watched several Hollywood movies. I have never heard referenced some of the things this man described. The next several articles are dedicated to him; his four years in the service, in his own words. Out of respect (and by request) I have changed his name. The next few articles are dedicated to my friend "Warren," who like so many of us can trace our childhood to Monroe:
Warren was born in the 1920s. He grew up "way out by Old Smokey Road" on 16th Avenue. From his house, Warren could look up and see Smokey Road. There were six kids in the family - five boys and one girl; Warren was the second oldest. With six mouths to feed, Warren's parents had their hands full, according to him, "Mother kept care of us rugrats - she'd wash clothes in a big square tub. On laundry day she'd beat that [thing] all day long, and hang up clothes in back yard." Also in the back yard was a garden, where Warren remembers planting "everything that would grow." To this day, he still can picture their basement, "just crammed full of jars".
Warren's father earned $1 day working for Rote lumberyard. Railroad cars would come in brimming with coal, and it was father's job to unloaded the coal with a scoop shovel - all by hand. Late into the night, farmers would come in, needing coal. Warren's Dad "shoveled coal all day long, into the night, in snow - he shoveled his ass off. [He'd shovel] small chunks, big chunks; all kinds of coal, all for $1 per day."
It was about this time that Warren began looking at his future. In his words he had "no future, no career, no nothing." He lived in an old house on 16th Avenue, where six children all shared one room. In the wintertime (consider this, my friends), he would wake up in the morning to find snow piled up on the windowsill on the inside of the house! The house was so cold; the snow would not even melt. The kids worked together to shovel snow from inside the house and dump it out.
Warren considered joining the Marines, but encountered stiff resistance. His mother's brother had just gotten killed in the Aleutian Islands. "It was a short war for him," Warren said. "He was only there six months or so ..." A Monroe resident commented that the U.S. Marines was the meanest outfit there is - "you won't live long out there."
Taking this into consideration, Warren lied about his age and enlisted. He was 17 at the time, and looked at the bright side: "If I got over there and got hit or killed, the government was going to give my family $10,000 for me losing my life. That would put them on easy street." With "No future, no career, no nothing" to keep Warren in Monroe, he enlisted in the Marines and joined the 3rd Marine Replacement Battalion.
Said Warren, "All the Marine Replacement Battalion did was go where they needed replacements. I didn't like it." Soon enough, Warren discovered that as a Marine, he didn't care much for water!
After training in Hawaii, Warren was sent to Guadalcanal. Significantly, the battle of Guadalcanal was the first major offensive launched by the Allies against Japan, and it turned the tide in favor of the Allies. Warren was there, and described the fighting:
"When [we] attacked, it was like a bulldozer going over a henhouse. We'd go in afterwards to see the damage, and we'd be moving in water up to our shoulders, [sometimes] walking on snakes! You'd be walking along, and have no idea how long the snake was ... The head was here, the tail there, or in back of you. Guadalcanal was mountains and swamps. One day you'd be in the 'jungle' - with water up to your neck. The next day we'd climb a hill [and be] drier than hell. All the while, anything you see you [shoot] it. And the [snipers] - it was like trying to sneak up on parrot in a tree.
In four years, Warren never was wounded. He got nicked up a few times, but that was it. "Nothing like this," he smiles and shows me big scar from a recent surgery. "After a while, I just wanted to get home so I could help out the folks." On furlough, Warren would visit a girl from Janesville. He smiled, "I was getting sweet with her."
- Dan Wegmueller is a columnist for The Monroe Times. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
Folks, I recently had the pleasure of sitting down with a good friend who grew up here in Monroe. Although he was not a farm kid, he loved horses. Before he was of age, he enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps - the pay seemed good. As I listened to my friend speak, he took me from a humble and peaceful start in Monroe, to military training in Hawaii. He fought in chest-deep swamp at Guadalcanal, climbed Mount Suribachi with a flamethrower on his back, and witnessed the second flag raising. After the war, he was part of a peacekeeping force on Japan - but don't let the term fool you; it was far from peaceful. My friends, I have read countless books on the Pacific, watched several Hollywood movies. I have never heard referenced some of the things this man described. The next several articles are dedicated to him; his four years in the service, in his own words. Out of respect (and by request) I have changed his name. The next few articles are dedicated to my friend "Warren," who like so many of us can trace our childhood to Monroe:
Warren was born in the 1920s. He grew up "way out by Old Smokey Road" on 16th Avenue. From his house, Warren could look up and see Smokey Road. There were six kids in the family - five boys and one girl; Warren was the second oldest. With six mouths to feed, Warren's parents had their hands full, according to him, "Mother kept care of us rugrats - she'd wash clothes in a big square tub. On laundry day she'd beat that [thing] all day long, and hang up clothes in back yard." Also in the back yard was a garden, where Warren remembers planting "everything that would grow." To this day, he still can picture their basement, "just crammed full of jars".
Warren's father earned $1 day working for Rote lumberyard. Railroad cars would come in brimming with coal, and it was father's job to unloaded the coal with a scoop shovel - all by hand. Late into the night, farmers would come in, needing coal. Warren's Dad "shoveled coal all day long, into the night, in snow - he shoveled his ass off. [He'd shovel] small chunks, big chunks; all kinds of coal, all for $1 per day."
It was about this time that Warren began looking at his future. In his words he had "no future, no career, no nothing." He lived in an old house on 16th Avenue, where six children all shared one room. In the wintertime (consider this, my friends), he would wake up in the morning to find snow piled up on the windowsill on the inside of the house! The house was so cold; the snow would not even melt. The kids worked together to shovel snow from inside the house and dump it out.
Warren considered joining the Marines, but encountered stiff resistance. His mother's brother had just gotten killed in the Aleutian Islands. "It was a short war for him," Warren said. "He was only there six months or so ..." A Monroe resident commented that the U.S. Marines was the meanest outfit there is - "you won't live long out there."
Taking this into consideration, Warren lied about his age and enlisted. He was 17 at the time, and looked at the bright side: "If I got over there and got hit or killed, the government was going to give my family $10,000 for me losing my life. That would put them on easy street." With "No future, no career, no nothing" to keep Warren in Monroe, he enlisted in the Marines and joined the 3rd Marine Replacement Battalion.
Said Warren, "All the Marine Replacement Battalion did was go where they needed replacements. I didn't like it." Soon enough, Warren discovered that as a Marine, he didn't care much for water!
After training in Hawaii, Warren was sent to Guadalcanal. Significantly, the battle of Guadalcanal was the first major offensive launched by the Allies against Japan, and it turned the tide in favor of the Allies. Warren was there, and described the fighting:
"When [we] attacked, it was like a bulldozer going over a henhouse. We'd go in afterwards to see the damage, and we'd be moving in water up to our shoulders, [sometimes] walking on snakes! You'd be walking along, and have no idea how long the snake was ... The head was here, the tail there, or in back of you. Guadalcanal was mountains and swamps. One day you'd be in the 'jungle' - with water up to your neck. The next day we'd climb a hill [and be] drier than hell. All the while, anything you see you [shoot] it. And the [snipers] - it was like trying to sneak up on parrot in a tree.
In four years, Warren never was wounded. He got nicked up a few times, but that was it. "Nothing like this," he smiles and shows me big scar from a recent surgery. "After a while, I just wanted to get home so I could help out the folks." On furlough, Warren would visit a girl from Janesville. He smiled, "I was getting sweet with her."
- Dan Wegmueller is a columnist for The Monroe Times. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
