Leonard's Story: January 15, 1945

In this letter Mac would of course refer to General MacArthur. G-2 is military intelligence, but of a higher rank than Uncle Len, who was S-2. EM would have been an an enlisted man. BAR indicates the Browning Automatic Rifle. And CCC stands for the Civilian Conservation Corps. 

I have been reading up on Operation Te-Go, the Japanese Paratrooper Attack on Leyte of December 7, 1944. The mission of Te was to attack several U.S. airfields, destroy planes on the ground, burn supply dumps and disrupt logistical operations. In particular the goal was to retake the Buri, San Pablo, and Bayug strips and destroy Tacloban and Dulag fields. The harmonicas, jewsharps, and other instruments were played as signals by the paratroopers immediately after landing; for instance, headquarters was to be identified by the sound of a harmonica. The mission was however hampered by bad weather and coordination problems with the ground units resulted. This was to be Japan's last major parachute operation in the Pacific. 

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                                                                                     Philippines

                                                                                     Jan 15th

Dear Arnold,

     So you like my letters?  Personally I think you are trying to kid

me, as some of them did'nt sound like much to me.  When the Hqs moved

back to the beach I was left keep up the Order of Battle part of G-2,

and finally the Asst G-2 left and I stayed behind to run G-2 with one

EM.  I got in a good rest, as there was'nt much to do.  Our action

consisted of patrolling, and little groups of stragglers were being

knocked off at the rate of about three or more a day.  The other day

the remaining elements of the division turned over the sector to an-

other unit, and we all went back to the beach, or as the boys say,

"to a rest area."  When I got down here I found that instead of a

rest I had to go back to work, things to come you know.

     So the 11th Airborne Div and LJN have gone through their first

campaigns.  It was rough in spots, but it was a good starter and some

valuable experience was learned and earned by all.  However, I am afraid

that it is just a sample of the future, and we have many battles to

go.  According to the latest regulations down here, if you have two

years in you can apply for a 30 day leave, and with three years over-

seas service out\here you are eligible to apply for rotation. I am es-

timating my return to the states in 1946 in the late fall.  Any man is

crazy to want to come out here, and I admit I was nuts. If you take all

the letters I have written you and spread them out on the floor, and then

compare all of them, I think you will find that for every little in-

teresting word about something I've/seen or done you will find ten other

words bitching about being down here, or rather what it is like down

here.  It is'nt that I don't want to do my share of the war, but here

is the way I look at it.  Some men will have to go overseas while others

will have to stay in the states, its the way the cards are stacked.

But if you have a chance to stay in the states a little longer, then you

are just that much smarter if you take it.  To think I turned down a

beautiful job in the states.  So brother if you get a crack at sticking

around in civilization a little longer grab it, for I am certain that

eventually you will get over here.  Well I guess you won't listen to me,

so come on over and see what its like, some guys are just naturally hard

to convince.

     Well its all over now, and I can sit back and relax and think of the

tragic, gruesome, miraculous, and the humorous incidents.  Like the time

a patrol was hunting down some Japs they spotted in a ravine.  One of

the men made a wide circuit and crawled down into the bottom of the

gully where the Japs had been sighted, and he was in such a hurry that

he forgot to tell the other members of the patrol that he was going

down there.  Up on the rim of this little canyon the BAR man was cover-

ing the advance when he saw a figure sneaking down along the bottom.

As he opened fire the figure jumped behind a bush, so the BAR man gave

the bush the business.  When the patrol had finally pushed down there,

the BAR man found that he had killed his buddy.  One of the other men

grab him him just he was trying to turn the gun on himself.  In another

incident some troops were crawling towards a Jap position which was

under our mortar fire.  As they had to advance across an open area,

an airstrip, it was necessary to keep dropping the mortar shells in

until the men could reach some cover on the far side of the strip.  As

they were slowly crawling forward on their bellies, a 81 mm mortar

                                             1

[page 2]

shell hit one man right in the small of the back.  No this is not one

of the gruesome tales, as the shell was a dud.  Now of the shells that

were being used very few were duds, but just think, the that hits

this man does misfire.  A few hours later a medic found him, as even

though he had been hit by a dud he was throught to be dead, and turned

him over.  He suddenly regained consciousness and sat up, complaining

about his back.  Upon examination it was found to be all black and blue

with a knot as big as your hand where the shell hit him.  The medic

taped him up, and several days later he was hiking around again.

I always smile when I think of what happened fifteen seconds after

the paratroopers had jumped from their planes, naturally I am refering

to the Jap paratroop attack we had.  Most of us had scorned the previous

air raids, and had not bothered to dig any foxholes.  Even on that event-

ful night it did not occur to me to get into a hole, as I was busy

watching the AA show.  Then in a flight that came right over us the

paratroopers started to jump, practically in our laps.  We stood there

watching them come down, hardly able to believe what we saw.  Then it

seemed like one thought occurred to everyone just about the same time.

"I had better get in my hole."   But, gulp, there were many who did'nt have a

hole.  There was the damnest mad scramble for shovels that you ever

saw.  I could have made a fortune right there and then if I had had

any shovels to sell, but I was more interested in fixing up a hole

myself.  We were just out of range of where they landed, and consequently

it did'nt do us much good to shoot at them, although the machine gunners

around us opened up and did get some in mid-air.  Well thats the way

it goes, I could probably fill several pages of these little incidents,

but many I could'nt write about, and the rest would probably become

boring.

     Well everybody is now talking about cock fights.  The GIs have

seemed to have taken quite a liking to this great Filipino National

sport.  The only fight I saw was one little sparring exhibition the

day we landed here, put on courtesy of some little villager to show

his appreciation of the return of Mac and the boys.  At the first

opportunity I am going to try to see one of the big official bouts

that are being put on here.  You can slap down a 300 pesos bet and

get it covered ($150 U.S. value).  But I will save all descriptions

and wait until I can personally witness one fo these spectacular

bloody exhibitions.

     Brother please, why pick on me?  I don't want to remember any

of this that is too unpleasant, in fact the more I forget the better.

I am going to eat now and will finish this later, excuse please.

                                               2

[page 3]

                                                           16 Jan [45 written in]

     Due to etc, etc I did'nt finish this letter yesterday, but will

try to finish it off this morning.  About the remembering, I would

just as soon forget about most of my experiences out here.  There were

plenty of men from the last war that remembered and tried to tell how

rough it was, people would'nt listen because they did'nt want to

listen, and it will be the same thing twenty years from now.  In fact

those that did listen were the pacifist, and they did more harm than

good by their islolation policy.  These same people believed that any-

thing connected with war was bad too.  So there were the men, including

many generals and high ranking officers, who had fought in World War

I, and who tried to tell the people that it was hell, and that to

prevent another war we should build up our army and navy.  The pacifist

grasped only the first part of the idea, and with their conviction

that anything connected with war was bad, they were for cutting down

the army and the navy and opposed to any ideas of national defense.

Naturally the communist clap their hands with glee and jumped on the

band wagon, and I am sorry to say that many of our church leaders also

had a great deal of influence in this movement.  Even CCC was watched

like a hawk to see that no military training crept into their daily

schedule.  In the last mass-slaughter bout people decided that when

the war was won, then the peace had been won.  This time we are think-

ing a little different, but how far ahead will we think?  There are

men today who are advocating a  large post war army, and already there

are those who think that this is unecessary, and that armies are bad.

I think that every young man should be made to server one year in the

army, in a carefully laid out program that would include more than

just squads east and west.  The men should be mixed from all states,

as from my experience I found that this is a good means of breaking

down many of the prejudices of sectionalism.  They should be given

excellent medical and dental care, which would make for a better

healthier race of Americans.  They should be taught some or several

minor trade practices, such as mechanics, welding, clerical work,

etc.  They should be taught to use their iniative and to develop

leadeship abilities.  in other words they would follow a carefully

conducted program that would not only benefit Uncle Sam, but would

also be a benefit to each individual man.  No, not everything connect-

ed with mar is bad.  Think of the medical, aeronautical, chemical,

electronical, and even fertile (pertaining to birth rate) developments

as a results of this war.  However, it is deplorable to think that it

takes a war to producce such advancements, and weighed against the

havoc, destruction, and misfortune that war evolves it is doubtful

that it is worth the price.  No brother, the placard does not read

"You must remember," but instead it says, "Lest we forget."  It is

easier to kill the cub than to fight the lion.

     Frankly I am rather disgusted with humanity as a whole.  It has

not changed greatly or appreciatably in the last 2000 nor even in

the last 6,000 years.  The Id is just as powerful in man now as it

was then, although perhaps now it does not have quite the same amount

of freedom as it had then.  When man gets to the point where he can

disregard or eliminate the common and judicial laws, and follow laws

stemming from the golden rule, and when man is able to abolish all

law inforcement agencies, then he will not have to worry about wars.

For I believe that war and policemen will go out together, and when

men are able to do this, they will no longer be the men that are about

today.  Brother we consider ourselves covilized just because we

wear clothes, read, make love at home in a bed usually with our wive,

use a toilet, and pay five dollars a year to the American Red Cross.

                                                 3

[page 4]

But brother lets wise up, we are primitive, crude, and under develop-

ed in the full sense of the word civilized.  Between us and the coming of

Christ there are only 100 generations, back to the beginning of written

records of civilization  300 generations. To nature that is only

a few grains to the twll known drop in the bucket, in other words

we are not too far distantly related from our fathers the Cromagnon

and the Neanderthal men.  There are animals in exsistence today that

can have their ancestorial history traced back for 10, 20, or some

even back over 30,000 generations.  So you see Bud, your chest is

a chamber of primitive passions, and your head a bank of crude ideas.

But your ideas, and perhaps your passions may be the implements that

will give us an impetus to a future world of nobile, pure, and peaceful

ways and means of living in a 1,000, 5,000, or 10,000 generations

from now.  But will the children of your children's children's ....

offspring give you credit?  No, they will say that the man that lived

100,000 yrs ago was a very crude fellow, and the differentation

between you and the Cromagnon will be as great as our's is between

the Cromagnon and the Neanderthal man.  When you look at infinity

you can't see it, but you can see some point between you and infinity,

and if you go to that point and then pick out another point in the

direction of infinity, why eventually after an indefinite length of

time you will reach infinity.  So if we can pick out some point

on the curve in the right direction but within the limits of our

known capabilities, then we know we can and will reach it.  But if

we start off in a direction in which we can't see the end, then

we will reach no end.  In other words, lets look at man as he is

today, and what he is capable of doing or becoming, and then lets

proceed to do it.  When we get it done we can then make another

estimate and choose another mission.  And as long as man has hair

on his chest, will kill for lust, money, or power, and as long

as that type of man is in exsistence, there will be wars.  So the

immediate problem is to prevent that man from doing those things

which are detrimental to the progress and welfare of society, and

when we have curbed and destroyed this threat, then we can proceed

to attempt to change the race and our way of life to prevent

reproduction, not only in a biologicacl manner but perhaps more

important in a environmental manner, of this type of individual.

    Now do you see what happens when you write letters like that!

I won't apologize for what I have written, you started it and you

deserve it.  Well take it easy Bub, and write soon.

                                         love from

                              ye olde crusty caveman (horny too)

                              [signed] Leonard

                                             4

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Leonard's Story: Yank Jungle Patrol

Uncle Len would be around 24 years old when he writes this narrative. I am not sure what “AA men” would be — AA is sometimes America’s Army, other times Anti-Aircraft — I am inclined to the latter interpretation. BAR stands for Browning Automatic Rifle — photo here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Browning_ar001.jpg. “Division CP” would be Division Command Post.

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[handwritten: Ed - Please return this when you are finished. Thanks, Arnold

by L. J. Nevis]

                              ON A YANK JUNGLE PATROL

     Several weeks ago I had requested the authority to go on a 

patrol outside the perimeter into Jap territory.  The other day Maj.

Ayres stopped by and said that preparations had been made for 

me to go out on a patrol.  Several hours letter the S-2 of one 

of our regiments called and told me to be at J (J because of 

censorship) Company at eight o’clock wednesday morning.   I drew

the necessary equipment, and spent the rest of the day cleaning 

my carbine.  Calling back the next day to check on the patrol, 

I found that I should be there at seven-thirty instead of eight 

o’clock.  Before I went to bed tuesday night I had everything 

ready. For the first time since i have been here I got up at 

reville.  After a hasty breakfast, I had Letwin drive me up to 

J Company area, which was situated thigh up on the ridge that forms

the perimeter.  I was introduced to the Lt. who was the patrol

leader, rations and ammunition were handed out, and a few instruc-

tions were given.  We then boarded a truck and are driven out to 

the Company whose lines we were to go out through.  our patrol 

consisted of fourteen infantry men, as we detracted we were met 

by fourteen AA men, who were to go out with us.  The AA men were 

designated to bring up the rear, and I followed behind the Patrol

Leader, whose was in turn behind two scouts.  We started out single 

file up over a little ridge.  On the other side we could see an 

outpost, as we approached they open the wire in front of them so 

that we could pass through.  At the outpost we stopped and made 

a check of the radio and our equipment.  The command was then 

given to load and look.  We went out through the wire and down 

a path through the mine field that was planted in front of the 

wire.  We were on our own now, out in no-mans-land.  We kept going

down,the trail getting steeper and steeper.  This was nice after 

climbing over the ridge to the outpost, but then I realized that 

every step we took down meant two steps up.

     The men in the patrol were all young, probably between twenty 

and twenty-five.  They were wiry, healthy, good looking kids.

They all looked capable  and looked like they knew what the score

was.  Apparently the misfits and weaklings had been weeded out long 

ago.  We finally reached the bottom of the little canyon, and 

started up  It was hard work climbing with a pack, I was sadly 

out of condition and became quickly winded, but somehow I kept 

up with them.  The morning passed slowly on, and we kept climbing 

or descending.  The trail became steeper and rougher.  Just about 

the time I felt I could go no farther, the patrol leader would

call for a halt.  The trail became even steeper; we would climb 

up for about fifty feet or so, and then rest.  I had only a piece

of toast and a cup of coffee for breakfast, and though I was wind-

ed before, I now began to feel weak.  I counted my pulse and it 

was constantly up around 150 or 160, and at times it went over

200.  I thought my heart was going to burst and my lungs ex-

plode with it.  Just about the time I felt I must stop, a call

came from the rear that that a man had fallen out.  We had to stop

and rest for a half hour, and wait for him to recover. This

certainly was a break for me.  A little while later two men fell

out and said that they could’nt go any further.  We radioed in 

[page 2]

our position and then left them there.  We then started forward

again, but this time a little slower.  We continued to climb and 

then descend, hour after hour, yard after yard.  A little before

twelve, we reached the crest of the ridge that we were to follow.

The mission of the patrol was to find a trail along this ridge to

an outpost that was our destination.  After following the ridge 

for about twenty minutes we stopped for lunch.  After I had eaten,

drank a good quantity of water and rested, I felt much better. At 

this point I learned that six of the AA boys had dropped out about 

eleven o’clock and started back, this decreased out patrol to twen-

ty men.  I was also told that the hardest part of the hike was be-

hind us, and so with the food, rest, and this knowledge I started 

off feeling more like my former self.  Although the ridge was eas-

ier than climbing up and down, it was was still rough.  The trail was 

narrow, and the ground sloped away rapidly on both sides.  If you 

can picture a flea walking along the top of a chipped and broken 

razor, you will have a rough idea of what it was like.  Occasion-

ally we would pass an old Jap gun position with some 75mm ammunition 

scattered around.  From these old positions we could look right 

down on our perimeter.  It must have been a terrific job for the 

Japs to get these 75mm’s up there.  Once in a while we would pass

a few abandoned Jap helmets.  Suddenly the Patrol Leader signaled

for a quick halt.  Ahead I could see a trip wire across the trail.

A scout went ahead to examine it.  It turned out to be merely a 

warning system, as it was attached to a couple of cans.  One of 

the men cut it and we proceeded, however a little more carefully. 

These two scouts had a tough job, every time the trail forked at 

a questionable place, they would drop their packs and each would 

investigate a branch.  They would then come back, and report their

findings to the Patrol Leader, who would decide which trail to 

take.  If any enemy was ahead they would be the first to contact 

them.  Behind me was a man with a BAR (automatic rifle) who could 

give immediate heavy fire power in case of contact with the enemy.

     We continued on when suddenly we were once again signaled to 

a quick halt.  Ahead was a newly prepared gun position.  We took 

cover, and the man with the BAR came forward to cover the scouts

while theyexamined the position.  One went to the left, the other 

to the right, and they started slowly crawling forward to flank 

the position.  Suddenly they jumped up and signaled us to come

ahead.  They postion was empty.  A little while later we reached some 

more old 75mm positions and the ridge fork at this point.  We

dropped down to rest, while the scouts went to investigate the 

fork.  In the distance we could hear artillery fire and some auto-

matic weapons firing.  I was so tired that I did’nt even bother to

try to find out how far away, where, or who it was.  The scouts 

finally came back, and it was decided to take the ridge to the 

left.  We were find later that this was to be an expensive 

mistake.  We started down the ridge, the going became rougher. 

Fortunately, the noon rest had done me a great deal of good and 

I was’nt any more tired than the others.  Once again we started 

to go up and down. The trail became steeper, and in many places 

it was necessary to use vines, or pull a man up with a rifle.

                                            -2-

[page 3]

Finally we started up a rather steep ridge, it was tough going,

but a least we thought we were on our way back to the main ridge.

However much to our disappointment we found our selves on top 

of a little pinnacle shaped mountain.  He we rested and the Patrol

leader planned the next move.  The dense jungle was a great hind-

erence on climbing up an down, but the vines are often handy at

a particularly tough spot.  We again got under way, this time we 

kept going down.  The slope became steeper, it was more and more 

difficult to descend we came to a little stream that was damp

but dry.  Here we started up again.  After a long climb we finally 

started down again.  The trail was an old one and hard to follow.

Suddenly the Patrol Leader signaled us to an abrupt halt.  The 

scouts went forward to examine a trip wire.  They were able to 

follow it for only about five feet on either side of the trail,

and then the going became too rough.  As it was slick they decided 

to cut it.  I got well back under cover, for if any booby traps 

were going to go off, I did’nt want to be around.  One man went 

forward and carefully cut the wire.  Nothing happened so we pro-

ceeded on down the trail.  After continuing down for several hun-

dred yards we found ourselves hacking through the brush.  Some-

where we had missed the trail.  The going got steeper, when we 

suddenly found ourselves on a ledge over a straight drop down.

     There was only one thing to do, and that was to go back.  I’ll

never forget that going back.  Once the Patrol Leader slipped and 

slid down about twenty feet before he finally caught hold of a 

root.  Somehow we finally made it back up and then down to the 

little damp stream bed.  Several of the men said that they could-

‘nt go up any more, they would have to go down.  We started to 

follow the stream down.  The rocks were slimmy with moss, here 

I took my first fall of the day.  The stream suddenly took a 

drop of thirty feet.  We went down a vine hand over hand. Every 

hold I took on the vine creaked and cracked, and I expected any 

minute to have it snap and go plunging down to the rocks below.

I was the fourth man down, the twentieth and last man said it had 

creaked and cracked on him.  Now we must continue downward for the 

vine would never hold if all of us tried to climb up it.  For some 

time now the men knew that we were lost, and they began to bitch 

bitterly.  A little further down the stream there was another straight 

drop.  We looked down and could’nt even see the bottom as it was 

obscured by folaige.  It looked like we were really stuck this

time.  The afternoon was wearing away, and in a few hours it 

would be dark.  The Lt. in charge finally worked his way around

a narrow ledge to the left, and we all followed.  After hacking 

along the edge of a very steep slope we finally came upon an old 

trail.  We started down, for over an hour we kept climbing down,

it was fast and rough going, as the Patrol Leader was trying to 

get us down to level ground before the sun went down.  We finally 

came out on an old Jap bivouac area, and upon crossing it we found 

a little stream.  Here we paused and filled our canteens, being 

careful to chlorinate the water.  Continuing on the trail, which 

now had become more  or less level we entered the site of a former

Jap hospital.  There were boxes, bottles, shoes, skulls, bones, 

and helmets strewn about. It was rather a funny feeling to look 

over at an old rusty Jap helmet, and see a skull nearby, sardonicly

leering up at you.  There were numerous foxholes, dugouts, and 

old fortifications on the other side of the hospital area.  About 

five-thirty somebody shouted, “This is far enough, lets stop for

                                             -3-

[page 4]

the night.  The Patrol Leader guided us off the trail to a little

level spot, and we threw off out packs.  I picked me a spot, and 

started to hack out a clearing with my knife.  About that time it

started to rain.  I did’nt even bother to put on a poncho, as I 

was already wet and covered with mud.  Normally guards and out-

posts would be posted, but we were all so tired that we were or-

dered to bunch up, and the Patrol Leader let it go at that. 

I asked him why we did’nt stop at the Jap bivouac area, as it was 

a much better spot.  He said that this place, well concealed and 

off the trail would be much safer.

     I opened my “K” rations and proceeded to eat a cold dinner of 

crackers, spam, and a choclate bar.  I took a couple of salt tablets

and some dextrose tablets, and prepared to settle down for the night.

I took off my wet fatigue jacket and slipped on a dry “T” shirt.

I dropped my poncho over my head and made a pillow out of my shelter

half, using part of it for a flap to keep the rain out of my face.

An hour later I woke up in a puddle, and had to move to higher 

ground.  Soon the rain let up and I fell asleep wet and cold with 

any and spiders crawling over my legs, and oblivious to the many 

sounds of the jungle night.About one in the morning I woke up ex-

tremely cold, I found that the warmest position was to lie on my 

side, cross my arms at my chest, and draw my legs up.  So once

again I fell asleep, however, this time with the moon shinning 

through a break in the trees right in my face.  About every hour 

i would wake up with a sore hip, then I would turn over on my back.

An hour later I would wake up very cold, so I would turn over on 

my other hip, curl up and go back asleep.  I did this alternately

all night.  We got up at six o’clock, ate breakfast, packed our gear,

and started off.  We figured ( or rather they did) that it would 

take us about two or three hours to hit the main trail that ran

out to a trail block and outpost.

     We went along a pretty good clip, I I was feeling pretty good

and did’nt mind it too much.  At one point it looked like we were 

going to have to cross a swamp, but they finally found a muddy

trail around the edge.  We were making pretty good time, when we 

found out that the rest of the patrol was quite a ways behind us.

They finally caught up with us, and they were pretty mad.  Mean 

words flew back and forth.  A man with a BAR wanted to throw it

away.  The Patrol Leader tried to find somebody else to carry it.

Every one declined, declaring that he was too tired.  Finally the 

Patrol Leader said that we would levee this spot until someone

would carry the gun.  The man that owned it then said, “I’ll carry 

the damn thing, lets get the hell out of here.”  Once again we 

plodded our weary way forward.  The jungle became very dense, you

could not see a man on the trail five feet in front of you.  Forty-five

minutes later we suddenly came out on the main trail, what a grand

and glorious feeling.  Because of the jungle out radio had not worked

since three the previous afternoon, so we flagged down a jeep and 

gave him the message to have the trucks come out and pick us up.

Two hours later I was sitting in my tent freshly showered and in 

clean sun tans relating my experiences to some friends.  Although 

we did’nt contact the enemy, I was well satisfied with patrolling, 

and determined to stay near the Division CP unless ordered to do

otherwise.

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