Stories by Sixth Division Marines
At the End of His Life,
Jack Lawson Tells His Story
Chapter Two: Okinawa
Landing on Okinawa
This was the largest landing operation of the whole Pacific War. On the sea four days from Okinawa, platoon leaders got us together with a map and showed us what the island looked like. Everybody had been speculating, and we thought it was going to be Formosa.
When I get to thinking things are tough, I think back to that morning of April 1, 1945 and it is not yet good daylight. We can see Okinawa in the distance, and we know we will soon be landing there. We don't know exactly what is out there, but we are sure it is going to be unpleasant. The evening before, worship services had been conducted and everyone attended. It was a solemn occasion. Services by Catholic and Protestant chaplains with holy sacrament, prayers, etc.
When our platoon was called for, we climbed over the rail and down the cargo nets into the boats below. We were loaded down with packs, rifles, ammo and gear. If you were to fall down, you might drown.
Anyone who says he was not scared at that time would be a liar. But to show fear was something that no one did. We knew we must go.
When we reached our rendezvous zone, I had never seen so many ships of all sizes and shapes. Land was visible in the distance, and battleships and cruisers were firing what seemed like thousands of rounds of ammunition onto the beaches. Several Jap kamikazes were diving toward our ships. Most were destroyed, but I saw one make a direct hit and the ship seemed to explode into a huge fireball. It was spectacular, but scary.
When our outfit came ashore that first day, there were Marines and artillery and all kinds of equipment seemingly everywhere. We dug in and spent that first day and night between the beach and Jap airfield. The Japs let us in because they were dug into the mountains and caves.
Only about 200 yards inland the Marines took control of Yontan Airfield, which was practically in front of us. We saw an enemy plane land. He didn't know we had taken it over. He stepped out of the plane, and a machine gun cut him in two.
That first night was a frightening time. That whole night the sky was lit by flares, tracer bullets and continual anti-aircraft fire. We were under attack from Jap kamikazes, but they were mostly attacking ships and landing craft. The Navy lost more men — about 5,000 — than at any other time. I watched some of them explode.
A favorite Japanese tactic was to attack at night, storming in and making a lot of noise. I was an assistant gunner on a three-man team feeding bandoleers of ammunition for the triggerman. The third guy is doing the best he can keeping the ammunition coming and keeping it from tangling. One night the battle lasted almost all night. The next morning, we counted 30 dead enemy soldiers within yards of us. You're sitting there, and here they come. It's a moment when you don't have time to be scared. I don't like to talk about it.
One of my very best buddies was the recipient of the Bronze Star for killing more than 30 Japanese who were trying to penetrate our position that night in the north of Okinawa. I have a picture of him and me together when we were in China. It was a special relationship we had. Difficult or impossible to explain. You just had to be there. When people have life and death experiences together, it is a bonding of brotherhood like no other.
Reflections on the Battle
I will always remember those times. I learned lessons about life and death, which have sustained me many times. God has a plan for me, I truly believe. I hope and pray I have kept my end of the bargain.
I have seen lots of so-called war movies on TV. Some things are realistic, but most are not. Saving Private Ryan has been touted to be the most real movie, and maybe it is in some ways. But I didn't see any trucks loaded with dead bodies like they were so many bags of fertilizer, and I didn't see any people wading through mud up past their knees trying to drag guns and ammo along.
Some things I saw and experienced are hard to believe they ever happened, even now. Almost three months of sleeping on wet ground with only a poncho for cover. Three months without a hot meal or regular food, only field rations, boiled coffee, and cigarettes. Often, you had to fan the flies with one hand while eating with the other.
No matter where you were, there was always a chance of mortar or artillery fire, or maybe a sniper might pick you out.
Several incidents occurred on Okinawa. Two of my buddies and I pulled a Marine pilot from a crashed fighter plane. He was dazed but otherwise not badly injured. The Japanese would probably have sent a patrol for him had we not done so.
One time I was pinned down by sniper fire for several minutes until someone nearby spotted the sniper and knocked him from his perch.
Another time while under attack from Japanese mortars and artillery fire while helping construct a bridge so tanks could move forward, I jumped into a hole for cover and landed practically on top of a bunch of high-ranking officers. We all had the same objective…to get out of the way!!
Many of my buddies were either killed or wounded. A very close friend, Kenny Laswell, was severely wounded by a land mine and evacuated. I never heard from him again. Eight of us shared the same tent for seven months on Guadalcanal. Three of the eight were killed in action – Joe Boudrea, Bill Baker and Tom White. That's how close it got to me
One time I only survived because a mortar shell was a dud and failed to explode. Another time a sniper just missed me. Someone got him before he could fire off any more rounds. A higher power had to have an angel dancing on my shoulder, because there were other close calls.
Television or the movies cannot or does not capture the carnage as it really was. Dead Japanese and Okinawan citizens were not an uncommon sight. We closed up the entrance to many caves because the people in them refused to come out and surrender, especially near the end. One large cave that we closed near Naha had over one hundred people inside. Interpreters confirmed this; the occupants chose to die rather than come out.
My company was combat engineers and not infantry, but the danger was always there nonetheless. Sometimes I think even more so, if that was possible. Many times we had tanks and mobile guns waiting while we hastily constructed a bridge or swept for mines.
The Virgin's Cave
What I have to say here was prompted by a Japanese road map circa 1964. What caught my attention was note #3 on the map called “The Virgin's Cave.” I am sure I remember this cave very well, and I take issue with what is written there. I do not believe it to be a true account of what happened there. This is very troubling to me. I realize this was some 55 years ago (at the time of writing) but I remember it quite well. It did not happen this way.
I was a member of the squad of Marines, maybe 7 to 10 of us, who sealed this cave. I am sure we did not kill 122 young high school girls and teachers and nurses. My conscience is hurting now to think we were accused of this. I am sure I (and we) contributed to the demise of many Japanese and probably many civilians. But we were not in the business of killing young civilian girls and women.
Let me tell you how and why I still remember this particular cave so well. We were at the end of the Okinawa campaign, and everyone knew it because the Japs were running out of real estate. What was left of them was pinned up at the south end of the island. They were desperate, some were committing suicide, and many were hiding in caves and had to be burned out with flame throwers or sealed up with demolition charges if they refused to surrender. Very few of them surrendered.
We were taking very few chances. I think everyone knew it would soon be over so we were very cautious not to get ourselves killed in the process. The infantry guys were doing most of the mopping up, but the larger caves were left to the engineers to pile in extra TNT and push dirt and rocks into the mouth to make sure they were sealed.
Virgin's Cave, 1945 above and 1965 below
The Virgin's Cave was the largest one any of us had seen, and I am sure it is the same one the map is referring to. The location checks out. Anyway, there was an interpreter there that had a conversation with some people inside. The information, as I recall, was that they were Japanese and they were refusing to come out and surrender. I remember he said there were more than one hundred in there. I am sure we would have followed orders anyway, but nothing was said about any young girls and nurses. Our officers, NCOs or PFCs would never have ordered these kind of people to be killed. We were having civilians come through our lines every day and they were all treated humanely and given food and medical attention. The mouth of the cave was so large that a large truck or tractor could easily have driven into it. So it could have easily had more than 100 Japanese soldiers inside. And there were certainly no Japanese sentries guarding the entrance. They would have been taken out by the infantry guys. TNT satchel charges would not have been enough to close this one. So we got the job.
As I remember, there were lots of recovered Japanese landmines and mortar shells near here so we proceeded to bring them in, and along with well-placed TNT charges, it was closed. A bulldozer was brought in to push extra dirt in and the job was completed. I think it would be nearly impossible for there to have been any survivors. (The note on the map says there were two.) The concussion was so great it would have killed anyone inside. I was only part of a small group who did this nasty job. I certainly hope and pray there were no young innocent girls in there. I don't believe there were.
Memories
Jack Lawson & Buddies, Tsingtao, China, 1946
I hear many men talk of their war experience. A lot of it doesn't sound quite right, and I don't care to listen. Even though I have seen hundreds of dead and wounded and been exposed to enemy gunfire, I do not often mention it. It was not pleasant. I had three men I was very close to killed, and several others were wounded and evacuated. We were like brothers. Maybe closer. The memories are still with me. Even now I wake up at night and much of it returns. It was especially bad for the first year after my discharge. Those hundreds of dead Marines are very real. I must never forget them. I came out alive and not even wounded. I wonder why. I must keep the memory of them alive within me always.
I have never seen or heard war described accurately. I don't believe it to be possible. I saw and experienced things that haunt me even to this day. Many men I knew and had been closer to than brothers were killed or wounded. You see and experience these things and you go on. You wonder if it will ever end or if you will die first, but it did end. After 82 days it was over.
A few more days and we went aboard an LST for the trip to Guam. Before leaving, we attended a dedication and memorial service where all our dead friends and comrades were buried. As I walked through the many thousands of crosses, I thanked God I had survived. I still ask myself the question: “Why them and not me?” There is a question of guilt. I guess God intended it to be that way. There had been plenty of times where it could have been me. No human being has the answer to any of that. Certainly those who have experienced war do not.
Another photo from Tsingtao, China
A Night to Remember
I am thinking about one night while on Okinawa in 1945. There was nothing particularly memorable about it unless it would be that our company was ”pulled back” a short distance from where most of the action was. We were in reserve and did not expect to move up for a couple more days. There was plenty going on not too far away. I can remember a couple of “screaming meemies.” They hardly ever hit anything. They were crude Japanese rockets, and the sound they made was almost blood curdling. Machine gun fire and artillery fire could be heard from time to time and flares could be seen lighting up the darkness. We knew we were safe unless a stray mortar or artillery round were to land nearby.
Although there were sentries posted and would be throughout the night, most of us just sat in small groups drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. After we had cleaned and oiled our weapons and equipment, there was nothing left to do other than sleep. I remember I was with a few close buddies and our conversation became very solemn and serious. It slowly evolved into somewhat of a religious experience. Now I don't suppose any of us had been very devout in our religious beliefs, but the events of that battle we had been experiencing changed our thoughts and made us more aware of how close to death we might be. I'm sure there were Jews and some Catholic boys in our group, but that was not mentioned. We were all the same. None of us knew if we were going to come through this war and go home alive.
I don't remember who said what or that it even mattered. It was a moving experience. I remember we sang a few hymns that most of us knew. Now you know that I cannot sing, but for some unknown reason my voice was different and sounded quite good. We started singing “The Old Rugged Cross,” and everyone but me stopped singing. I continued to sing and every word just seemed to come to me. As I now recall, they were impressed with my singing. And now I say so was I. I have no other explanation other than to say that it was almost like an out of body experience.
I think we were all moved by the events of that evening. I'm sure the Spirit of God was there, and we all were comforted by it. Things such as this are unexplainable but very real.
Jack Lawson's gravestone
This was the largest landing operation of the whole Pacific War. On the sea four days from Okinawa, platoon leaders got us together with a map and showed us what the island looked like. Everybody had been speculating, and we thought it was going to be Formosa.
When I get to thinking things are tough, I think back to that morning of April 1, 1945 and it is not yet good daylight. We can see Okinawa in the distance, and we know we will soon be landing there. We don't know exactly what is out there, but we are sure it is going to be unpleasant. The evening before, worship services had been conducted and everyone attended. It was a solemn occasion. Services by Catholic and Protestant chaplains with holy sacrament, prayers, etc.
When our platoon was called for, we climbed over the rail and down the cargo nets into the boats below. We were loaded down with packs, rifles, ammo and gear. If you were to fall down, you might drown.
Anyone who says he was not scared at that time would be a liar. But to show fear was something that no one did. We knew we must go.
When we reached our rendezvous zone, I had never seen so many ships of all sizes and shapes. Land was visible in the distance, and battleships and cruisers were firing what seemed like thousands of rounds of ammunition onto the beaches. Several Jap kamikazes were diving toward our ships. Most were destroyed, but I saw one make a direct hit and the ship seemed to explode into a huge fireball. It was spectacular, but scary.
When our outfit came ashore that first day, there were Marines and artillery and all kinds of equipment seemingly everywhere. We dug in and spent that first day and night between the beach and Jap airfield. The Japs let us in because they were dug into the mountains and caves.
Only about 200 yards inland the Marines took control of Yontan Airfield, which was practically in front of us. We saw an enemy plane land. He didn't know we had taken it over. He stepped out of the plane, and a machine gun cut him in two.
That first night was a frightening time. That whole night the sky was lit by flares, tracer bullets and continual anti-aircraft fire. We were under attack from Jap kamikazes, but they were mostly attacking ships and landing craft. The Navy lost more men — about 5,000 — than at any other time. I watched some of them explode.
A favorite Japanese tactic was to attack at night, storming in and making a lot of noise. I was an assistant gunner on a three-man team feeding bandoleers of ammunition for the triggerman. The third guy is doing the best he can keeping the ammunition coming and keeping it from tangling. One night the battle lasted almost all night. The next morning, we counted 30 dead enemy soldiers within yards of us. You're sitting there, and here they come. It's a moment when you don't have time to be scared. I don't like to talk about it.
One of my very best buddies was the recipient of the Bronze Star for killing more than 30 Japanese who were trying to penetrate our position that night in the north of Okinawa. I have a picture of him and me together when we were in China. It was a special relationship we had. Difficult or impossible to explain. You just had to be there. When people have life and death experiences together, it is a bonding of brotherhood like no other.
Reflections on the Battle
I will always remember those times. I learned lessons about life and death, which have sustained me many times. God has a plan for me, I truly believe. I hope and pray I have kept my end of the bargain.
I have seen lots of so-called war movies on TV. Some things are realistic, but most are not. Saving Private Ryan has been touted to be the most real movie, and maybe it is in some ways. But I didn't see any trucks loaded with dead bodies like they were so many bags of fertilizer, and I didn't see any people wading through mud up past their knees trying to drag guns and ammo along.
Some things I saw and experienced are hard to believe they ever happened, even now. Almost three months of sleeping on wet ground with only a poncho for cover. Three months without a hot meal or regular food, only field rations, boiled coffee, and cigarettes. Often, you had to fan the flies with one hand while eating with the other.
No matter where you were, there was always a chance of mortar or artillery fire, or maybe a sniper might pick you out.
Several incidents occurred on Okinawa. Two of my buddies and I pulled a Marine pilot from a crashed fighter plane. He was dazed but otherwise not badly injured. The Japanese would probably have sent a patrol for him had we not done so.
One time I was pinned down by sniper fire for several minutes until someone nearby spotted the sniper and knocked him from his perch.
Another time while under attack from Japanese mortars and artillery fire while helping construct a bridge so tanks could move forward, I jumped into a hole for cover and landed practically on top of a bunch of high-ranking officers. We all had the same objective…to get out of the way!!
Many of my buddies were either killed or wounded. A very close friend, Kenny Laswell, was severely wounded by a land mine and evacuated. I never heard from him again. Eight of us shared the same tent for seven months on Guadalcanal. Three of the eight were killed in action – Joe Boudrea, Bill Baker and Tom White. That's how close it got to me
One time I only survived because a mortar shell was a dud and failed to explode. Another time a sniper just missed me. Someone got him before he could fire off any more rounds. A higher power had to have an angel dancing on my shoulder, because there were other close calls.
Television or the movies cannot or does not capture the carnage as it really was. Dead Japanese and Okinawan citizens were not an uncommon sight. We closed up the entrance to many caves because the people in them refused to come out and surrender, especially near the end. One large cave that we closed near Naha had over one hundred people inside. Interpreters confirmed this; the occupants chose to die rather than come out.
My company was combat engineers and not infantry, but the danger was always there nonetheless. Sometimes I think even more so, if that was possible. Many times we had tanks and mobile guns waiting while we hastily constructed a bridge or swept for mines.
The Virgin's Cave
What I have to say here was prompted by a Japanese road map circa 1964. What caught my attention was note #3 on the map called “The Virgin's Cave.” I am sure I remember this cave very well, and I take issue with what is written there. I do not believe it to be a true account of what happened there. This is very troubling to me. I realize this was some 55 years ago (at the time of writing) but I remember it quite well. It did not happen this way.
I was a member of the squad of Marines, maybe 7 to 10 of us, who sealed this cave. I am sure we did not kill 122 young high school girls and teachers and nurses. My conscience is hurting now to think we were accused of this. I am sure I (and we) contributed to the demise of many Japanese and probably many civilians. But we were not in the business of killing young civilian girls and women.
Let me tell you how and why I still remember this particular cave so well. We were at the end of the Okinawa campaign, and everyone knew it because the Japs were running out of real estate. What was left of them was pinned up at the south end of the island. They were desperate, some were committing suicide, and many were hiding in caves and had to be burned out with flame throwers or sealed up with demolition charges if they refused to surrender. Very few of them surrendered.
We were taking very few chances. I think everyone knew it would soon be over so we were very cautious not to get ourselves killed in the process. The infantry guys were doing most of the mopping up, but the larger caves were left to the engineers to pile in extra TNT and push dirt and rocks into the mouth to make sure they were sealed.
Virgin's Cave, 1945 above and 1965 below
The Virgin's Cave was the largest one any of us had seen, and I am sure it is the same one the map is referring to. The location checks out. Anyway, there was an interpreter there that had a conversation with some people inside. The information, as I recall, was that they were Japanese and they were refusing to come out and surrender. I remember he said there were more than one hundred in there. I am sure we would have followed orders anyway, but nothing was said about any young girls and nurses. Our officers, NCOs or PFCs would never have ordered these kind of people to be killed. We were having civilians come through our lines every day and they were all treated humanely and given food and medical attention. The mouth of the cave was so large that a large truck or tractor could easily have driven into it. So it could have easily had more than 100 Japanese soldiers inside. And there were certainly no Japanese sentries guarding the entrance. They would have been taken out by the infantry guys. TNT satchel charges would not have been enough to close this one. So we got the job.
As I remember, there were lots of recovered Japanese landmines and mortar shells near here so we proceeded to bring them in, and along with well-placed TNT charges, it was closed. A bulldozer was brought in to push extra dirt in and the job was completed. I think it would be nearly impossible for there to have been any survivors. (The note on the map says there were two.) The concussion was so great it would have killed anyone inside. I was only part of a small group who did this nasty job. I certainly hope and pray there were no young innocent girls in there. I don't believe there were.
Memories
Jack Lawson & Buddies, Tsingtao, China, 1946
I hear many men talk of their war experience. A lot of it doesn't sound quite right, and I don't care to listen. Even though I have seen hundreds of dead and wounded and been exposed to enemy gunfire, I do not often mention it. It was not pleasant. I had three men I was very close to killed, and several others were wounded and evacuated. We were like brothers. Maybe closer. The memories are still with me. Even now I wake up at night and much of it returns. It was especially bad for the first year after my discharge. Those hundreds of dead Marines are very real. I must never forget them. I came out alive and not even wounded. I wonder why. I must keep the memory of them alive within me always.
I have never seen or heard war described accurately. I don't believe it to be possible. I saw and experienced things that haunt me even to this day. Many men I knew and had been closer to than brothers were killed or wounded. You see and experience these things and you go on. You wonder if it will ever end or if you will die first, but it did end. After 82 days it was over.
A few more days and we went aboard an LST for the trip to Guam. Before leaving, we attended a dedication and memorial service where all our dead friends and comrades were buried. As I walked through the many thousands of crosses, I thanked God I had survived. I still ask myself the question: “Why them and not me?” There is a question of guilt. I guess God intended it to be that way. There had been plenty of times where it could have been me. No human being has the answer to any of that. Certainly those who have experienced war do not.
Another photo from Tsingtao, China
A Night to Remember
I am thinking about one night while on Okinawa in 1945. There was nothing particularly memorable about it unless it would be that our company was ”pulled back” a short distance from where most of the action was. We were in reserve and did not expect to move up for a couple more days. There was plenty going on not too far away. I can remember a couple of “screaming meemies.” They hardly ever hit anything. They were crude Japanese rockets, and the sound they made was almost blood curdling. Machine gun fire and artillery fire could be heard from time to time and flares could be seen lighting up the darkness. We knew we were safe unless a stray mortar or artillery round were to land nearby.
Although there were sentries posted and would be throughout the night, most of us just sat in small groups drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. After we had cleaned and oiled our weapons and equipment, there was nothing left to do other than sleep. I remember I was with a few close buddies and our conversation became very solemn and serious. It slowly evolved into somewhat of a religious experience. Now I don't suppose any of us had been very devout in our religious beliefs, but the events of that battle we had been experiencing changed our thoughts and made us more aware of how close to death we might be. I'm sure there were Jews and some Catholic boys in our group, but that was not mentioned. We were all the same. None of us knew if we were going to come through this war and go home alive.
I don't remember who said what or that it even mattered. It was a moving experience. I remember we sang a few hymns that most of us knew. Now you know that I cannot sing, but for some unknown reason my voice was different and sounded quite good. We started singing “The Old Rugged Cross,” and everyone but me stopped singing. I continued to sing and every word just seemed to come to me. As I now recall, they were impressed with my singing. And now I say so was I. I have no other explanation other than to say that it was almost like an out of body experience.
I think we were all moved by the events of that evening. I'm sure the Spirit of God was there, and we all were comforted by it. Things such as this are unexplainable but very real.
Jack Lawson's gravestone