Time of year to say thanks to veterans
Fifteen years ago on one of my annual trips to Florida to help the Twins pick their team, I ran into a 67-year-old from Massachusetts.
He had that distinct Boston accent, was an Irishman named O'Malley, and wasn't afraid to give his opinions about anything. We became friends and have bantered back and forth through the years about lots of things, his cohorts from the Boston area joining in on the debates and also becoming my friends.
Now 82, Walter O'Malley is one of the guys I'll be thinking of on Monday when we celebrate Memorial Day.
He was a 19-year-old with a Browning Automatic Rifle in his hands when he was part of the first wave of Marines that hit the beach 62 years ago this past February on Iwo Jima.
Six days later that segment of his time in the military ended when he was struck in the arm and leg by shrapnel from a Japanese mortar.
Iwo, as most people call it, became a bloody 36-day battle which cost our country 6,825 lives on an island of eight square miles, with more than 19,000 injured. About 21,000 Japanese were killed in the battle that was waged because of the airstrips on the tiny island in the Pacific.
About once every spring I ask Walter to tell me about his time on Iwo and usually, with reluctance, he will. I've learned a little more each year and that was true again last month.
If you could listen in you'd understand why he sometimes pauses, why his eyes sometimes get misty, and why he has to be urged to talk.
Read this quote from a story about Walter in the Englewood Sun-Herald this past February:
"We had just crawled over a couple of small shell ridges when a fellow named O'Connor, near me, was hit by enemy machine gun fire. He took three slugs in the chest and fell backwards. We dropped back to the second ridge for cover and waited. A Marine with a flamethrower and another guy with a C-2 explosive pack came up and attacked the Japanese on the other side of the far ridge who were firing at us. The guy with the flamethrower opened up on the pill box while the other fellow tossed his explosive pack. After it [machine gun] exploded we charged. There was little left of the three Japanese in the pill box."
That was on the first day and the 2nd Battalion of the Fifth Marine Division had a hard time advancing more than 100 yards a day, Walter said. He remembers seeing the flag that we all know about go up on Mount Suribachi on the fourth day, as well as the celebration that followed. They thought the battle was over, he said, but it went on for another month.
On the sixth day Walter's company was pinned down and seven members of his squad were wounded. The stock of his BAR (rifle) was shattered near his head by a mortar round that also hit him in the leg and forearm. He crawled back to a Marine unit, was patched up and taken to a hospital ship. He went to an Army hospital in Saipan and then to a Navy hospital in Hawaii. His days of combat were over.
Only four of the 50 Marines in his platoon weren't wounded or killed and Walter has told me a number of times about losing friends, some who were right next to him.
As the years have gone by I've noticed that Walter has been more willing to talk about those horrific times. That's been the case with other World War II veterans, perhaps feeling their time slip away as 1,000 of them die daily in the U.S.
There are hundreds of thousands of stories similar to my friend Walter's story—not just from World War II, but from Korea, Vietnam, Desert Storm, and now Iraq and Afghanistan. And there are millions of support troops who have done their duty through the years. A thank you to any of them that you know would be a good gesture on Memorial Day weekend. I will guarantee they'll appreciate it.
When I last saw my friend Walter a few weeks ago, I once again asked him to show me the blackish bump on the inside of his left forearm. He's carried Iwo Jima sand there for 62 years that is a daily reminder of those six days of hell.
I'll think of Walter, and others like him, on Monday.
Princeton Union-Eagle
P.O. Box 278
Princeton, MN 55371
Telephone: 763-389-1222
Fax: 763-389-1728
