Part Three
Before leaving for our confrontation with the Japanese, the men in my regiment were given the opportunity to spend our last day in Maui doing as we pleased. We heard the girls were even prettier near Wailea, so we figured we’d spend some time showing off our newly acquired surfing skills. Mind you, I wasn’t very good at surfing, but we were hoping to catch the eyes of the beautiful ladies who were checking us out from the magnificent sandy beach.
We sipped mai tais all afternoon until it was time for the luau. I had always enjoyed our family fish fries back in the comfort of San Saba County, but I was undoubtedly looking forward to the food and entertainment in store for us that evening. The slow-roasted pork was delicious, and since the cows were raised in such a wonderful place there on Maui, the steaks were simply divine. My buddies had to twist my arm a bit before I decided to try some poi and poke. We enjoyed banana splits topped with locally sourced pineapple as we watched the fire dancers perform to live music played on steel guitars, drums, and ukuleles. We were mesmerized by the rhythmic swaying of the pretty hula dancers, and had it not been for our sergeant telling us that it was time to leave, we probably could have stayed there all night.
Before heading back to Camp Maui, I made one last trip down to the ocean’s edge.
Frolicking in the water throughout the day had brought back many fond memories of Felix and me splashing in and around the swimming holes back home in San Saba County. However, the cool water did little to numb the anxiety pulsating throughout my body. Spending the last few moments underneath the Maui moon, it was as if the ocean was whispering words of caution into my ears. It was hard to imagine the horror that we might find in the weeks to come, so I chose not to listen to the ominous sounds that were attempting to ruin my evening. The palm trees swayed as if to say goodbye to our contingent of Marines. By golly, I sure hoped that I hadn’t seen the last of Maui. I knew that each of our lives was equally important, and we all seemed to realize the magnitude of what we were getting ourselves into. As we turned in for the night on “Giggle Hill,” it was clear that protecting the way of life for our American citizens and family members back home was now everyone’s priority.
On 13 May 1944, men from my regiment climbed aboard the USS LST 23, which was part of an armada of ships at Maui. We made a stop in Pearl Harbor for supplies, then headed for our strategic objective near the end of May 1944. We dropped anchor near countless other vessels from the Fifth Fleet off the coast of Saipan around 15 Jun 1944. From the deck of our ship, we looked on as the intense long-gun and rocket barrages descended upon the island, originating from our nearby battleships and destroyers. We had all heard about the impressive D-Day invasion in Normandy about nine days earlier, and I was proud to be part of our own DDay operation in the Pacific. We were more than a thousand miles south of Japan, and we knew the importance of taking this island so that our bombers would be within striking distance of the Japanese mainland. I was very excited and honored to be part of one of the first U.S. divisions to reach Japanese-held soil during World War II.
Now, y'all might assume I was part of the first wave to hit the beach on Saipan. Nothing could be further from the truth. My ship was hardly glamorous, with around 200 men aboard.
Morale was low since we had nowhere to go. Our friends were already dying as fellow Marines advanced on the island, and we felt like sitting ducks on the cramped transport ship. Each afternoon, I’d gaze over the starboard side, wondering when we'd finally board one of the six landing craft stowed in the hull. I thought to myself: Felix was a replacement pilot, and I'm a replacement Marine. It was painfully obvious why we were needed. Honestly, my anxiety was through the roof, and my frustration was palpable as the days dragged on.