Dr. Sheldon B. Johnson: Memories of World War II

Dr. Sheldon B. Johnson: Memories of World War II

(1996, as told to wife LaVerna, St. George, Utah)

World War II was an all encompassing event in my life. It affected my life and all the people I knew in my environment.

Life at home was totally involved. We experienced shortages, rationing, and lack of many products and goods. Gas, tires, sugar, and many, many things were rationed. Each family had ration books, with so many stamps for each family member. Shoes and leather goods were scarce. Most things you just couldn't buy....they weren't available. All efforts were going toward the war. Our very lives depended on it.

My older three brothers were serving in the armed forces in very dangerous conditions. My brother Grant (just older than me) was flying

a B-17. He was headquartered in England, flying bombing raids into Germany and Romania in an effort to destroy munitions factories and other war time targets. My brother Mazel (just older than Grant) was flying around the world instructing and teaching about radio communications. My oldest brother Mark was in the navy, serving in the Pacific running supply ships to soldiers.

Before the war started we had a very prosperous lumber mill, sawing lumber near Bryce Canyon. As my brothers were drafted and joined the Army Air Corp and the Navy Dad closed the saw mill. He sold our home in Tropic and moved from my idyllic childhood home town to the strange big town of St. George. I was fourteen years old, and everything was changing. Dad began working as a gardener at the St. George temple for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

At that time every one in town went to church in the Tabernacle and the Second Ward Chapel on Main Street. There was one elementary school, one high school, and two-year Dixie Jr. College consisted of three buildings on Main Street.

I waited to join the armed forces until I was 18 when I was drafted. I had tried to join the Air Force, but the war had been going on for two and a half years and the Air Force was fully staffed. What they really needed was replacements for men in the army as they were killed or wounded during battle.

In 1944 I turned 18, graduated from Dixie High School, and was drafted in the U. S. Army. My mother exchanged her three star-flag for a four-star flag to hang in her window. This told all passers-by that all four of her sons were in the military, fighting for freedom, and for the life of our country. She had two girls (Metta and Gladys) left at home.

I was sent to Camp Walters, Texas for 17 weeks of training, then I was sent overseas to be involved in the invasion of the Philippine Islands, a bloody battle where 50% of our invasion force was killed. The Philippines had been an American base until the Japanese conquered the forces at Bataan and Corregidor. All Philippino leaders and most educated people had been murdered by the Japanese. We were sent to liberate the Philippine people who had been so brutally conquered two years before.

Bataan was famous for the 120 mile death march where our Americans were beaten and starved as they marched. Fifty percent of them died, while others were put in the infamous Bilibid Prison where they prayed for home and rescue. Many of those Americans in prison were 18 years old like myself when captured.

Our ship was late for the invasion because they were pushing so hard to get there that one of the boilers blew up in the engine compartment. We were without power in the middle of the Pacific with over 2500 men on board, a perfect target for the Japanese submarines and we knew it.

Days of helplessness passed slowly. Finally a ship passing by towed us to Hawaii where unsuccessful attempts were made to repair the engines. We were never allowed to leave the ship. Another ship helped us on our way for a while, then we limped back to San Francisco where we were transferred to another ship and again sent on our way.

At the Solomon Islands we met a convoy. Together our ships slowly wound our way to Leyte. Often depth charges were fired as we fought off Japanese intruders trying to stop our convoy.

Conditions were very crowded on board our ship. Our 2500 men had to take turns coming on top to stand on the deck to get fresh air, see the light of day, and look across the ocean. Down in the hold where we slept bunks were seven high, with just barely enough room to turn over while bumping into the guy above you. We were at sea for 58 days. I spent more time on the ocean, all told, than some of my cousins in the navy.

While on deck I enjoyed the beauty of whales spouting, dolphins following us, sail fish flying, and lines of coconuts and palms floating out from the islands.

But we knew what we were sent for and didn't have a lot of hope of returning, knowing that most casualty replacement troops (as we were) would not return. I remember as the boat stopped for supplies in the harbor in Hollandea, New Guinea, the feeling of men so sure they wouldn't return. They dropped silver dollars over the side of the ship's side, counting until they disappeared into the depths of the ocean.

When we arrived at Leyte the invasion force had landed. The whole beach had been secured and the firing of guns and mortar howitzers, machine guns, etc. could be heard far off in the hills. Because that area was secured, we were sent on to next invasion site which was up near Manila on Luzon.

When we arrived at Luzon it was in the evening. I remember a Japanese air raid trying to get our ship, the air battle above us, trying to save us as we sat in the water. It was a long night. Everyone was very quiet and scared as we waited. There was a feeling of fatality for whatever would befall us.

The ship had no windows, and we had small dim lights to see by. No lights could be seen on top our ship as we waited in the darkness under the flashes of gunfire. When morning came the fighting ended. The noise subsided. We prepared our guns and supplies, loaded into LST's (landing barges) and headed for shore. When we worked our way on shore we discovered that the Japanese had left the fort just prior to our landing. There was no resistance. We went a few miles and established the 5th Replacement Depot. We were the first ones there. It turned out later to be a big army camp.

Our Depot was surrounded by fighting, but our area remained clear. A Japanese straggler would sneak in to steal food, and once in a while bullets would fly through our tents as we dropped to the ground.

Our camp was in a large rice field. On an elevated knoll there was a small house and there the colonel of the depot was headquartered. Not long after we arrived I was assigned to guard duty to guard headquarters on night duty from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. Two of us walked a trail around the knoll through the heavy growth. The colonel was a hated man, a target of his own men as well as the Japanese. He was arbitrary, mean, and used power unrighteously.

We guarded him from his own men and from the Japanese as we walked night duty. I and another young man walked half way around the house in the dark to meet each other, turn, and go back to meet again...all night long. There was lots of gun fire and mortar fire around us, but not close by.

When morning came I saw a wire hidden in the undergrowth stretched across my path about six inches off the ground. It was hooked to a land mine by the house. If I had tripped it by stumbling on the wire during the night we all would have been blown to bits. Somehow I was prompted to step over that wire all night long as we went back and forth, back and forth.

I shot my M-l rifle and carbine and was part of a machine gun crew ...but only at assigned targets. I was never called upon to look another person in the eye during battle and shoot him. As part of a machine gun crew my toe was smashed when the hot barrel of a 50 caliber machine gun fell on my foot. We had to move it's firing position very fast and the handle of the hot barrel came off, causing a painful injury.

Soon after that incident I noticed my name posted on a bulletin board and was transferred to the Military Police Command of the Philippines where our job was to train Philippine army personnel to take over police duties of Manila and the surrounding areas. Manila was a city of millions of people.

By now the Japanese forces were on the run. When we came to a place that was bombed they easily gave up and became our prisoners. In fact when we took over the Hong Kong Bank building to use as our headquarters, a Japanese man surrendered to us and we kept him prisoner and kept him to clean and do housekeeping. We called him Harry Truman. He spoke no English. We used sign language and got along very well. He was grateful for food and gifts. He was happy to stay without guards at our barracks.

Manila was a totally bombed city with only a few buildings left standing. Our home was on the 4th floor of a concrete building. The first, second, and third floors were bombed out, but the fourth floor was undamaged. It was a cement building, clean and safe. We had no electricity, but plumbing was repaired in the basement so showers and toilets were available. I remember (sadly) that the sewer ran into a river that ran near by, as it was there in those days.

General Douglas McArthur lived just down the street. He was the "Supreme Allied Commander" of all forces in the Pacific. He was tall in stature, impressive and imposing in appearance. We had to go past his door to get our food in a tent down the street where many people ate. Every meal we passed his door.

General McArthur was treated by the Philippines as royalty. When ever he went from his building a large entourage preceded him with horns blowing and lots of sirens and pomp and ceremony. He was not a mean guy, but a genius when it came to leading people. He knew what he had to be to do what he had to do.

When we went to chow we used our own mess gear: metal pans with a spoon and fork clipped inside. When we finished eating we would scrub them in a big barrel of soapy water...each his own...and dunk them in boiling water. Then we would swing them around our heads to dry them as we ran down the street returning to our "home".

One early morning as I finished breakfast I started to run. As I ran by General McArthur's door out stepped a large, tall, stately man.... and I collided with him as I ran, swinging my mess gear.

He immediately grabbed my shoulders and said: "Are you in a hurry, son?" I gasped and looked up into the face of General Douglas McArthur! He shook my hand, and sent me on my way. He had just stepped out in the early morning for a short brisk walk to be alone for a few rare moments.

I've always said, "General McArthur and I were very close!"

I worked my way up the advancement ladder to become a staff sergeant before the war ended. I was assigned a new job as a supply sergeant where I had to look for supplies for my outfit. I had a jeep to drive and traveled around the island of Luzon quite a lot.

The large Island of Luzon is about the size of the state of Utah, so it has lots of area to explore. One day we were exploring an area inhabited by Igorots, a tribe of natives who were head hunters. They were so fierce that the Japanese army left them alone. We were curious about what we could find, and went into a jungle not knowing if we would find Japanese soldiers or head-hunting Igorots, so we were nervous.

I remember that we were sure we were the first civilized people to ever be there. We saw some smoke ahead and knew we were coming upon a Barrio (a village). As we turned the corner of trees that covered the barrio we saw a hut or building and all across it's front was a sign of red and white: "Drink Coca Cola, the pause that refreshes!" We had gone deep into the jungle and Coca Cola had beat us there! We surely had a good laugh about that and were somewhat relieved.

The war was a large effort by a lot of people each doing their part. After my first introduction into the mean part of the war with guns and dying I was transferred to the Military Police Command. Many of my original companions were not so fortunate. Many of them lost their lives in the Philippines or in the invasion of Okinawa.

Why I was saved and they were not I've never understood, but I have always given thanks to our Heavenly Father for my life and tried to do things that would prove that I was worth saving.

I had many experiences during ;my time in the Philippine Islands that shaped and affected my life. I became a very close friend of a family called Abod Santos. This family of five girls and three boys were very well educated. The youngest daughter was about my age (18-19). The father was a Senator in the Philippine Senate, but the Japanese had killed the father and the sons, to destroy the political present and future of the Philippine government. Each of the girls had attended a college or university, spoke several languages and were very bright. The oldest daughter, Blanka, finished law school and became head of a large branch of the Philippine government after the war.

I remember the day the war ended with the dropping of the Atomic Bomb on Hiroshima. "Atomic Bomb" was a new word, and we had no idea what it meant. The Stars and Stripes newspaper said the bomb had such a devastating power that it scared Japan into surrendering.

We were all delighted for two reasons: First, to end the tyranny of the evil Imperial Japanese forces. We had seen the results of their murder and torture campaigns. I had seen first hand what they had done. But secondly, we would not have to lose our lives in the invasion of the Japanese home land. We were all getting ready for this great invasion, and each of us knew death could come for us.

With the end of the war came the chance once again that we might see the home we loved so much, the Great United States of America! Up until then we could only face tomorrow, not knowing what it would bring. But now we could dream of a future for each of our lives.

There was no doubt in my mind then, nor is there any doubt now that dropping the Bomb on such an evil empire as the military Japanese were in those days was the right and moral thing to do. Those Japanese leaders at that time had to be stopped. As I watched later when the war criminal General Yamashita was hung till death, knowing the "Tiger of Malaya" had killed tens of thousands of innocent people, I felt great relief. All of that terror he caused had come to a close, and millions of people could taste freedom again. Yes, I was there and what was done was right.

The war ended and we thought we would soon be home, but that wasn't to be. John L. Lewis, the Union Boss of all the coal miners, called a strike of all the coal mines. Without coal the ships of the United States couldn't sail and thus the armed forces were left in foreign nations without supplies and without transportation to come home. The united effort for the war had ended. Now selfishness and unionism prevailed. We couldn't get home, nor could we find even food to eat. We lived on bananas and rice for several months, and couldn't get a lot of that. I lost about thirty pounds and weighed just over one hundred pounds when the coal strike was finally settled and we could once again get food and supplies. You can understand that unions don't engender a lot of respect from me even to this day.

We finally got a ship home and I can still remember the thrill of the ship going under the Golden Gate Bridge into San Francisco Bay, our flag of freedom flying, while the music of the Star Spangled Banner was being played. Coming home was a thrill that I shall never forget.

Remembering that day, it hurts me to see our flag shown disrespect, or to hear our national anthem treated lightly. These symbols remind me that freedom has a price, that it takes diligence to duty from each of us as we serve our communities even in peace time. I have seen peoples destroyed, cities destroyed, because citizens didn't stand up for what was right, but waited for someone else to do it.