Taylor, this is a blog to honor our Vets (God bless you)
Obviously, this is not my story. This is but one story of WWII written by my boss' dad, Thomas Petruzzelli, Sr. I did edit and enhance it, as my boss had asked me to do, for its first appearance on the writeonnewjersey.com site. But the story is Tom Sr.'s, who wrote it several months ago, as you'll see. I don't know how long a story this blog will allow so I will post it in two parts.
Part One: A Vet's Voice
As we approach the 64th anniversary of the official end of World War II, you will -- like the troops barraged during that long, bloody conflict -- be blitzed by the history surrounding this commemorative date. What you may not read are the personal, eyewitness accounts of soldiers such as me, who helped write that history.
When the war ended, many soldiers were discharged from the service. They returned home to the joyous, waiting arms of their loved ones, to victory parades, to skies raining colored confetti and sunlight glinting off the brass instruments of marching bands. I received no such welcome, for I was assigned to remain behind in the Japanese islands as a member of a peacekeeping/stabilizing force in the wake of that nation’s surrender. There I remained for nearly one full year in a strange land half a world away from my home.
As the dust of Hiroshima and Nagasaki sifted down from the sky, I was not privy to what fate held in store for me as a member of the 24th Signal Company attached to the 24th Infantry Division. Aboard the U.S.S. George S. Clymer as part of the most massive armada of planes and seagoing vessels the world had ever seen, I sailed the Pacific under orders to invade Japan. I did not know what lay ahead of me, but I knew full well what lay behind me. Entering the Sea of Japan, I looked back and saw, as far as the horizon, a majestic and mighty line of ships representing the Allied Forces. The sight was both humbling and inspiring. To the Japanese, it must have been terrifying.
Upon our landing on the island of Shikoko, the only people visible to us were the Japanese police. Having seen Hiroshima and Nagasaki fall, the rest of the population had gone into hiding, fearing that they, too, would be harmed or killed. We pitched camp at a town called Matsuyama, the first of our three stops during our yearlong occupation. There, we lived out of tents and “bathed” out of our helmets. The weather was cold, nothing like the warmth of the Philippines, and we had not been equipped with clothing befitting this climate.
Clothing, in fact, is the culprit behind one of the war’s greatest untold stories, which should be recorded in the annals of military procurement.
Part One: A Vet's Voice
As we approach the 64th anniversary of the official end of World War II, you will -- like the troops barraged during that long, bloody conflict -- be blitzed by the history surrounding this commemorative date. What you may not read are the personal, eyewitness accounts of soldiers such as me, who helped write that history.
When the war ended, many soldiers were discharged from the service. They returned home to the joyous, waiting arms of their loved ones, to victory parades, to skies raining colored confetti and sunlight glinting off the brass instruments of marching bands. I received no such welcome, for I was assigned to remain behind in the Japanese islands as a member of a peacekeeping/stabilizing force in the wake of that nation’s surrender. There I remained for nearly one full year in a strange land half a world away from my home.
As the dust of Hiroshima and Nagasaki sifted down from the sky, I was not privy to what fate held in store for me as a member of the 24th Signal Company attached to the 24th Infantry Division. Aboard the U.S.S. George S. Clymer as part of the most massive armada of planes and seagoing vessels the world had ever seen, I sailed the Pacific under orders to invade Japan. I did not know what lay ahead of me, but I knew full well what lay behind me. Entering the Sea of Japan, I looked back and saw, as far as the horizon, a majestic and mighty line of ships representing the Allied Forces. The sight was both humbling and inspiring. To the Japanese, it must have been terrifying.
Upon our landing on the island of Shikoko, the only people visible to us were the Japanese police. Having seen Hiroshima and Nagasaki fall, the rest of the population had gone into hiding, fearing that they, too, would be harmed or killed. We pitched camp at a town called Matsuyama, the first of our three stops during our yearlong occupation. There, we lived out of tents and “bathed” out of our helmets. The weather was cold, nothing like the warmth of the Philippines, and we had not been equipped with clothing befitting this climate.
Clothing, in fact, is the culprit behind one of the war’s greatest untold stories, which should be recorded in the annals of military procurement.
Views: 89
Comment
-
Comment by Denise Hill Barlow on November 12, 2009 at 12:05pm
-
My heartfelt thanks to everyone who has served and is currently serving our country proudly. A specail Thanks to Taylor for letting us all share our stories.
-
Comment by kaitlin45 on November 11, 2009 at 5:35pm
-
ITA, Julie. I want to thank everyone who blogged today. And I especially want to thank Taylor for doing this; he didn't have to. We lost our national "one minute of silence" for the troops, as we used to traditionally commemorate this day, so for Taylor do something like this, bringing so many people together, including those not regular members of this site, it was a wonderful thing. God bless you, Taylor, and bless our troops.
-
Comment by Juliegr on November 11, 2009 at 4:55pm
-
So many wonderful memories of wars and years gone by.
Thanks to ALL our troops and their families for what they have done.
About
© 2024 Created by Taylor Hicks.
Powered by
You need to be a member of Taylor Hicks to add comments!
Join Taylor Hicks