Local veteran tells his story of war

by BILL LECKRONE

Amherst resident

In the years 1941-1945, 18-year-old boys gave little thought to future schooling or jobs. We knew when we turned 18, we would be 1-A in the draft and Uncle Sam would be our first employer. The decision we had to make was which branch of the military we wanted to serve.

Early in 1944, two classmates and I went to downtown Cleveland and signed up for the Marine Corps. I don't remember the reaction of my mom and dad. I guess they just knew I would be off to war.

By the end of June, 1944, we were at Marine Recruit Depot in San Diego. About three months later (after a long train ride and three days at home in Cleveland), I returned to California, where I began training in an infantry rifle squad at Camp Pendelton.

Toward the end of December I was on a troop ship, headed for Guadalcanal in the South Pacific, where the Sixth Marine Division formed. When I arrived on the island, I was assigned to a special weapons company of the 29th Marines.

Our weapon was a tank-like, full-track vehicle, without a gun turret. We called these vehicles "open caskets" because the top was wide open, and the crew of seven was fully exposed to grenades, mortar shells, etc. Mounted on the chassis was a 105 mm gun and 50 cal. machine gun. The advantage of this weapon over a Howitzer was it could fire at pointblank at troops, tanks, and caves, whereas a Howitzer shell traveled in an arc. There was an assigned driver, a gunner, and a spotter. The other four of us were back-ups - firing the machine gun, loading munitions, helping with maintenance, etc.

The middle of March '45, I was again on a troopship. We had no idea where we were headed. On Easter Sunday, April 1, 1945, we landed on Okinawa. On my 19th birthday I was looking for Japanese soldiers to kill. Think about that; it's really mind-boggling.

In 10 months I had been trained to use and fieldstrip an M-1 rifle, a Browning automatic rifle, a carbine, a colt 45, a 30 cal. machine gun, a 50 cal. machine gun, and a 105mm gun. I had also been exposed to hand grenade use, hand-to-hand combat (knife and bayonet), and had traveled thousands of miles. I was now in major battle.

My story was not unique. This was happening to millions of 18- and 19-year-old boys who became men in a hurry to help form one of the greatest military forces the world has ever known. Of course, millions of 20- and 30-year-olds were fighting, too.

Back in Okinawa, we knew the Japanese were holed up in caves in the center of the island. Because we were mechanized, we went around part of the perimeter to clear out and secure that area. I will always remember seeing my first Marine casualty. We thought he was just resting; on a closer look, we found a sniper had gotten him.

Our main involvement, Sugar Loaf Hill, took 10 days to capture. Our units were used to shooting 105mm shells into a honeycomb of caves and tunnels in which thousands of enemy soldiers were dug in. We pulled back from the line to maintain the equipment, restock ammo, and gas up as needed.

The island was secured by the end of June at the cost of 8,227 casualties, 1,697 of whom were killed. There were army units also involved; I don't know their casualties. The Japanese had 18,000 killed, more than in any previous campaign. We took 3,200 prisoners.

We not only had to contend with the enemy but with rain and mud, a real problem and cause for much discomfort. Okinawa has one of the highest humidity rates in the world. Rainfall averages 120 inches per year. Sometimes I wondered if I would ever have dry, clean clothes again.

My fox-hole buddy, a 19-year-old Jewish Marine from Milwaukee, was not in my gun crew. I don't remember how or when we became pals. We both had parents, a brother and a sister and a girlfriend back home. We enjoyed big band music and vocalists of the time, and spent many nights talking and quietly humming our favorite songs.

One day we went out on our mission; his crew went one way and mine went another. I never saw him again. I found out his crew had been killed when a top sergeant came to our area and told me to gather his gear and personal belongings and to take them to headquarters. I never found out for sure what happened. Things were too hectic to find out. I have often wondered, "What if..."

Okinawa was the last battle of World War II. While we were on Guam, preparing to invade Japan late in 1945, President Truman authorized use of the atomic bomb in August. Thankfully! Fighting on Japan's homeland would have resulted in high casualties for both sides.

Watching original film shot at battles in Europe or in the Pacific never comes close to giving the viewer a sense of the stench, the tiredness, the hunger, the fear, the confusion of war. No sense of the horror, the savagery, the brutality, the inhumane ugliness.

We need peace in our world.