Showing posts with label WWII. Show all posts
Marines Prepare for Memorial March
MARINE CORPS AIR STATION YUMA, Ariz. — Marines from the Installation Personnel Administration Center at the Marine Corps Air Station in Yuma, Ariz., began training with a predawn 5-mile hike around base for the 21st annual Bataan Memorial Death March.
The annual 26.2-mile march, to be held at the White Sands Missile Range, N.M., on March 21, 2010, commemorates the nearly 75,000 Americans and Filipinos forced across the hellacious terrain of the Bataan Peninsula to internment camps by the Japanese during World War II.
The Marines are among at least a dozen from the air station planning to participate this year.
This will mark the second time a group of IPAC Marines have participated in the event. The first was in 2008, when four Marines completed the course in 9 hours, 51 minutes. Members of Marine Wing Support Squadron 371 and Marine Air Control Squadron 1 participated in 2001 and 2005, respectively.
Of 2008’s former four, only Gunnery Sgt. Fred Suniga, staff noncommissioned officer in charge of IPAC’s separations section, is returning for the event.
“There were initially 20 Marines that wanted to do it, now it’s down to about six,” said Suniga.
Participants this year include administration clerks Cpl. Bradrick Russo, Lance Cpl. Jacob Fansler, Lance Cpl. Anthony Scott and Pfc. Shane Fields.
Suniga’s plan to get the Marines into marching shape is a pyramid design in terms of mileage.
“We’re going to start off with 5 miles, then 8 miles, then 10 miles, and increase it until we hit the 26-mile mark,” said Suniga. “Once we hit that, we’ll start decreasing the mileage.”
During the actual march, the Marines will compete in the heavy division and must carry 35-pound packs, minimum. For training purposes, the Marines will practice with 50 pounds, said Suniga.
The training will take the Marines all over Yuma, from Telegraph Pass to the Yuma Proving Ground. The purpose, explained Suniga, is to prepare the Marines for the different terrain they’ll encounter on the march.
“It’s something new,” said Russo of his participation in the memorial march. “There’s a history behind it, a challenge.”
The training regime was revamped from 2008’s strategy.
“We had every intention of running the entire marathon,” said Suniga. “So we ran all over Yuma with 40- or 45-pound packs.”
During the 2008 march the team succumbed to the regions’s thin air, its elevation sometimes surpassing a mile above sea level, and varied terrain.
“I learned my lesson from the last one we did,” said Suniga.
Although winning teams earn prizes, the marathon carries a far more emotional weight than the pressure of success.
“This is not about who finishes first. It’s about remembering what Bataan was about,” said Suniga. “What hits me the most is remembering what those at Bataan went through. We’re going to do this march, just as Marines and service members of the past did it and were able to survive and talk about it today. Marines learn something from that.”
Honored Texan's Medal Claims Fraudulent?
But his claim of receiving combat medals, including the Navy Cross for exceptional valor in World War II, is now in question.
Herring died in 2004 at age 89, and his grave is in an honored place reserved for people whose actions defined Texas history and culture. Governors, signers of the Texas Declaration of Independence and artist Tom Lea, an El Paso native, all are buried at the Texas State Cemetery.
Herring was eligible for burial there because of 17 years of service as a Democratic state senator from Austin. He worked for Johnson when the future president was a congressman, and he managed the Austin headquarters for Johnson's successful Senate campaign. Herring was U.S. attorney for the Western District of Texas during 1951-55, making him the region's top prosecutor.
Herring served in the Navy during World War II. However, his stories of combat injuries and heroism appear to be false.
His online biography, posted by the Texas State Cemetery, states that Herring received the Navy Cross, three Purple Hearts and a Bronze Star before leaving the service as a lieutenant commander. The Navy Cross is the second-highest decoration for combat valor, behind only the Medal of Honor.
"His official biography is one of the worst war stories I've ever seen," said Doug Sterner, creator of a Web site chronicling the actions of people who received the nation's top medals for combat valor. Sterner used the Freedom of Information Act to obtain Herring's military records.
Those records state that Herring left the Navy Reserve in 1953 as a lieutenant junior grade, two ranks below lieutenant commander, after 10 years of service. The records also show no medals related to combat duty for Herring.
He did receive medals for participating in campaigns in the Pacific and the Philippines.
Charles F. Herring Jr., who lives in Austin, said his father legally changed the spelling of his name in 1963 from "Hering" to "Herring" and suggested there may be more than one set of military records. However, he said, his father used the more common spelling of "Herring" as long as he could remember.
"We know that our father fought in the South Pacific, as a landing craft commander at invasions at Leyte Gulf and elsewhere," the younger Herring said in an e-mail. "He was lucky to come back alive, and his family is proud of his service."
Herring said that most surviving family members were not alive during the war, have no personal knowledge of the events and have not seen the records.
"If he misstated his record in any way, that would be very sad for us and others," Herring said. "We would regret that and want any misstatement in the record corrected."
Sterner's Web site is used by the Texas Department of Motor Vehicles to help verify requests for specialized license plates related to military service. Sterner and his wife, Pam, were the force behind the Stolen Valor Act of 2005, a law sponsored by U.S. Rep. John Salazar, D-Colo.
That law makes it easier to prosecute people who falsely claim to have received military medals.
"It's not just the lower-level people who do this stuff," Doug Sterner said.
Sterner also works with other organizations, including the Legion of Valor, which was founded in 1890 and chartered by Congress in 1955. The legion collects information on people who have received the nation's highest medals, including the Medal of Honor, the Distinguished Service Cross, the Navy Cross and the Air Force Cross.
Donald Mason, the legion's national commander, said the records provided by Sterner indicate that Herring's biography is fraudulent.
"This is a most egregious case of stolen valor, " Mason wrote in an e-mail to Sterner. "I will strive to expunge from all official Texas records any reference to Mr. Herring's fraudulent claims of combat action and decorations."
Last summer, Mason called the office of Speaker of the House Joe Straus at the State Capitol in Austin. Mason said he chose Straus because of his support of veterans. An attorney in Straus' office told him there was not enough evidence to proceed, Mason said.
"The speaker's office is still working on this issue," said Tracy Young, a spokeswoman for Straus.
She said the office's legal staff is looking for documentation. If it finds evidence that the claims are false, the documentation will be forwarded to staff members of the Texas State Cemetery, she said.
Mason, a retired Navy master chief petty officer, said anybody making false claims should be exposed. He said fraudulent claims of heroism diminish the sacrifice made by people who fought and died in combat.
"We're such a unique organization, and there's only about 540 of us nationwide," said Mason, who received a Navy Cross during the Korean War. "It's an honor and a responsibility to protect and recognize the members."
Sailors Help Beautify Historical Park
Chief Naval Air Crewman (AW/NAC) Tracy Moran said Sailors and their family members have been working with the National Park Service each Saturday for one month to clean up the beach and give back to the island community. Moran said the goal is to complete the work in Asan and move on to other parks.
"Not only is it good for the junior troops to get out and get some community service under their belt, but it also gets them down here to see what actually happened in this park during World War II and makes them appreciate the island and history that it has," Moran said.
Moran said being at the park also helps Sailors better understand their military heritage and the military's close ties to the island.
"Part of their evaluation is on naval history and what better place to learn that than at Asan Park," he said. "As a chief, it's my job to teach naval history to the troops, so as they're coming up in ranks they can carry that on to the next generation."
Memorials at Asan Beach Unit commemorate the bravery and sacrifice of those who died fighting to liberate the island from occupying forces more than 60 years ago.
Naval Air Crewman 2nd Class (AW/NAC) Nathan Gardner said he's proud to take part in the effort to preserve the history of the island and the military.
"There are a lot of visitors from all over the world that come out here to see World War II monuments and see the history that this island does have so it's nice to have it nice and clean for people to see," Gardner said.
Gardner said helping to beautify the park is also a way of paying homage to the military personnel and civilian residents who died in World War II.
"I would hope that if they could come back and see it now that they would be proud," he said.
Chantell Kinney, an HSC 25 spouse, joined her husband, Hospital Corpsman 1st Class (FMF) Kirklin Kinney in the cleanup.
"Wherever we are, it's home," she said. "We need to get out into the community and get to know people and take pride in where we are."
HSC 25 is the Navy's only forward deployed vertical replenishment squadron providing deployed ships a rapid, safe and versatile means of resupplying diminishing stores. In addition, HSC 25 provides 24-hour search and rescue and medical evacuation services for Guam and the Northern Mariana Islands.
Reserve GI Still Recruiting after 60 Years
None are so old, Thoreau once wrote, as those who have outlived their enthusiasms.
By that standard, Sgt. Maj. Raymond Moran, the most chronologically advanced recruiter in the Army Reserve, might well also be its most youthful.
"This isn't work; it's a labor of love," says Moran, a beloved figure at Fort Meade who is embarking on his 60th year of doing what he loves most: finding prospects for the Army, then putting his cheerful personality to work guiding their careers.
Moran, who turned 80 last November, never guessed it would last this long. He enlisted in his hometown of Latrobe, Pa., in 1948, did basic training in Kentucky, and shipped out to Japan, where he helped keep the peace in post- World War II Tokyo.
But when the Korean War broke out in 1950, Moran and his unit, an infantry battalion in the 1st Cavalry Division, were called into battle and eventually moved deep into North Korea.
He has been a soldier ever since. He recruited in Washington, Pa., for 12 years; earned a Purple Heart (and his enduring nickname, "The Old Soldier") in Vietnam; and helped get the all-volunteer Army started in the 1970s.
At 60, Moran volunteered to serve during Desert Storm -- and did so. He tried to do the same in the wake of 9/11, at 70, but the Army drew the line. "At that age, you have to be a doctor or they won't take you," he says with an uncharacteristic pout.
Over the years, his country noticed his service. Moran, who has recruited well over a thousand men and women, is the only living person after whom Fort Meade ever named a street. Last year, the Army officially dubbed its new recruiters' hall of fame The Sgt. Maj. Ray Moran "Old Soldier" Hall of Fame -- and inducted Moran into the Fort Jackson, S.C., shrine that day.
Moran reports each morning to a Fort Meade office so jammed with posters, medals, trophies and autographed photos he has to keep a table in the hall to hold the overflow. He spoke with The Baltimore Sun of a long career, the changing face of his craft, and youth.
Your career really started in Asia, during the Korean War. What was it like there?
In the fall of 1950, everyone thought the war was over. Gen. MacArthur even asked my unit, the 7th Cavalry Regiment, to come back from Korea and "parade" in downtown Tokyo on Armistice Day. Bob Hope had come over to do one of his shows
Then we got awful news. In early November, the Chinese Communists came out of nowhere and attacked our buddies [at the Yalu River, in North Korea; more than 800 were killed.] We didn't even realize that army existed.
We had to go out to find soldiers who'd been killed. Many were shot in the back of the head, their hands tied behind them with barbed wire. That's who the enemy was.
Any good memories of that time?
When I was at the front lines, all I knew about my brother was he'd been assigned to a unit at APG in Maryland. But one day, here came this Army Jeep carrying an enlisted man. It was Sam! The 2nd Mortar Battalion had been sent over.
We sat down and wrote a letter home -- he'd write a little in his handwriting, then I'd write a little in mine. My parents kept that letter forever.
You've been recruiting since you returned in 1951. What's the appeal?
[After that war] we had to maintain an Army to defend this great country, to keep it free. And even if war is hard, I always felt I was helping somebody. I'm delighted to talk to anybody who's interested in the military.
They felt I was helping them, too. I've never had a complaint. My [recruits] kept me informed. I still get letters and postcards -- but now they're not from Korea or Vietnam, but from Iraq, Afghanistan, Kuwait.
What's the hardest part of the job?
It's not a job you just do a little bit, then quit for a while and pick it up again. You've got to be [recruiting] all the time -- handing out your card, letting people know you're around and available.
If they think kindly of you, if they respect you, they'll refer their friends and family members to you. It works well when you have a good reputation.
Any pointers on that?
I tell new recruiters, "Always bring family pictures and have them in your office. They're a reminder of something precious in your life -- a reminder to always tell the truth when you're talking to somebody who wants to serve their country."
There was a big sign in the auditorium of my high school. It said, "The truth shall make you free" And that's exactly what it does. You feel like you're a better man or woman all the way around.
Why is truth-telling such an issue for recruiters?
You don't want to tell anybody an untruth. Today, you don't want to tell anybody, "You're not going to be deployed." We've been in a war for eight years now, and we have all kind of casualties coming back. So you want to tell the truth. And when you do, you're respected for it. They understand.
Your career included the Vietnam War, when popular sentiment ran against the mission. Did you feel that?
I ran into that a little bit when I was [running] the Boston Recruiting Battalion. We had a recruiting station downtown, not far from Harvard. One of my sergeants called me one day and said, "Sergeant Major, we have some Harvard students who are donating their furniture." I said, "What do you mean?" He said, "They're throwing their chairs through our window." [Laughs.]
So yes, we had problems. But you replaced the window and continued to serve your country. You didn't quit because you had some people who opposed what you were doing.
You volunteered to go to Vietnam?
Well, they put out word they were looking for recruiters. They do that even today, with Iraq and Afghanistan. They become retention and re-enlistment sergeants. When I called in [in 1969], I said, "Do you have any need for sergeant majors?" They had two vacancies, one in the 101st Airborne, one in the "1st Cav." I said "Put me down for one."
Did you ask your wife, Barbara, first?
No, I didn't. [Laughs.] Her reaction was to say, "I knew you would!" She wasn't happy, but she has always been a wonderful Army wife. ... She's still a great volunteer, sending packages to the soldiers overseas.
In May of 1970, she wrote and said, "you volunteered to go over; now I'd like you to volunteer to come back. Please don't extend." I honored that request.
You were right there when the draft ended and volunteer soldiering began.
[That year] I got the best news I ever could have, though I didn't know it then. I was asked to be [senior NCO] of the 1st Recruiting Brigade at Fort Meade. They said, "Your job is going to be to start the new volunteer Army in that area -- you and the new colonel." We had to go out, open new recruiting stations, take care of housing our new recruiters, get phones and office space. I was on the ground floor of the volunteer Army.
Have you ever had second thoughts about America's missions?
No. I always thought they were well thought out, and important, and [if] they get to us, they're something that's so vital, it's important for us to help accomplish the mission. That's something soldiers are taught: Never leave a fallen hero behind; accomplish the mission. Whatever the mission is, lean forward in a foxhole.
How did things change when the military became all-volunteer [in 1973]?
It made an enormous difference. The drafted soldier did a great job for this country. He was a great warrior. But he didn't want to serve. Whereas the fellow who goes to the recruiter is volunteering to go. Today's military can perform its duties with motivated soldiers.
When you recruit a soldier in 2010, he or she will almost surely end up in a war zone. Does that change your feelings?
No. We're aware of what our country needs. We're here to help out in that. And [the recruits] know that. These young men and women today are into computers; they know everything that's happening. They even know what [career] options they want when they come in.
As a modern recruiter, do you keep up on things in Afghanistan and Iraq?
Oh, yes. [I tell people] Afghanistan will be like what North Korea was for me. It was bitter cold, like it is outside right now. We never slept in a bed for a year. ... I have a friend who told me his son is over there now, living in a tent. I said, "As bad as a tent is, it's still better than having no tent and still living out in the elements, in a foxhole with a sleeping bag wrapped around you." There are going to be a lot of hardships for our soldiers who serve over there.
Does today's slow economy help you in recruiting?
We know unemployment is bad. We'd rather see our country fully employed. That means we have to work harder, but that's what we want. But yes, it's a factor that comes into play -- one of many.
Do you have any other recruiting tips?
I've always felt if you're going to take a young man or woman away from [family], you should, out of respect, stay close to that family. I stay in touch by phone, e-mail, postcard. I get calls from all over. The family members become friends.
I have a saying: "Friends are better than money." I've been lucky enough to make many, many friends.
How are you still going at your age?
I've just always liked this. I continued on, and it has worked out beautifully. I certainly don't feel 80.
Barbara and I have always said, "health and happiness first." And as we age gracefully, we begin to realize we're slowing down -- it's part of the way things happen.
Do you work full-time?
My doctor found a bit of a heart constriction. He said, "I know you think age is unimportant, but ... your body is telling you different." I used to work even on Saturdays and Sundays, but now I work from 7 to 11 [in the morning] on weekdays, go home and take care of myself and Barbara. She's not used to having a husband home.
You're starting your 60th year as a recruiter. Do you plan to be doing this in another 10 years?
I'll help out as long as my health holds up. And I'll do it with a great deal of personal pride.
By that standard, Sgt. Maj. Raymond Moran, the most chronologically advanced recruiter in the Army Reserve, might well also be its most youthful.
"This isn't work; it's a labor of love," says Moran, a beloved figure at Fort Meade who is embarking on his 60th year of doing what he loves most: finding prospects for the Army, then putting his cheerful personality to work guiding their careers.
Moran, who turned 80 last November, never guessed it would last this long. He enlisted in his hometown of Latrobe, Pa., in 1948, did basic training in Kentucky, and shipped out to Japan, where he helped keep the peace in post- World War II Tokyo.
But when the Korean War broke out in 1950, Moran and his unit, an infantry battalion in the 1st Cavalry Division, were called into battle and eventually moved deep into North Korea.
He has been a soldier ever since. He recruited in Washington, Pa., for 12 years; earned a Purple Heart (and his enduring nickname, "The Old Soldier") in Vietnam; and helped get the all-volunteer Army started in the 1970s.
At 60, Moran volunteered to serve during Desert Storm -- and did so. He tried to do the same in the wake of 9/11, at 70, but the Army drew the line. "At that age, you have to be a doctor or they won't take you," he says with an uncharacteristic pout.
Over the years, his country noticed his service. Moran, who has recruited well over a thousand men and women, is the only living person after whom Fort Meade ever named a street. Last year, the Army officially dubbed its new recruiters' hall of fame The Sgt. Maj. Ray Moran "Old Soldier" Hall of Fame -- and inducted Moran into the Fort Jackson, S.C., shrine that day.
Moran reports each morning to a Fort Meade office so jammed with posters, medals, trophies and autographed photos he has to keep a table in the hall to hold the overflow. He spoke with The Baltimore Sun of a long career, the changing face of his craft, and youth.
Your career really started in Asia, during the Korean War. What was it like there?
In the fall of 1950, everyone thought the war was over. Gen. MacArthur even asked my unit, the 7th Cavalry Regiment, to come back from Korea and "parade" in downtown Tokyo on Armistice Day. Bob Hope had come over to do one of his shows
Then we got awful news. In early November, the Chinese Communists came out of nowhere and attacked our buddies [at the Yalu River, in North Korea; more than 800 were killed.] We didn't even realize that army existed.
We had to go out to find soldiers who'd been killed. Many were shot in the back of the head, their hands tied behind them with barbed wire. That's who the enemy was.
Any good memories of that time?
When I was at the front lines, all I knew about my brother was he'd been assigned to a unit at APG in Maryland. But one day, here came this Army Jeep carrying an enlisted man. It was Sam! The 2nd Mortar Battalion had been sent over.
We sat down and wrote a letter home -- he'd write a little in his handwriting, then I'd write a little in mine. My parents kept that letter forever.
You've been recruiting since you returned in 1951. What's the appeal?
[After that war] we had to maintain an Army to defend this great country, to keep it free. And even if war is hard, I always felt I was helping somebody. I'm delighted to talk to anybody who's interested in the military.
They felt I was helping them, too. I've never had a complaint. My [recruits] kept me informed. I still get letters and postcards -- but now they're not from Korea or Vietnam, but from Iraq, Afghanistan, Kuwait.
What's the hardest part of the job?
It's not a job you just do a little bit, then quit for a while and pick it up again. You've got to be [recruiting] all the time -- handing out your card, letting people know you're around and available.
If they think kindly of you, if they respect you, they'll refer their friends and family members to you. It works well when you have a good reputation.
Any pointers on that?
I tell new recruiters, "Always bring family pictures and have them in your office. They're a reminder of something precious in your life -- a reminder to always tell the truth when you're talking to somebody who wants to serve their country."
There was a big sign in the auditorium of my high school. It said, "The truth shall make you free" And that's exactly what it does. You feel like you're a better man or woman all the way around.
Why is truth-telling such an issue for recruiters?
You don't want to tell anybody an untruth. Today, you don't want to tell anybody, "You're not going to be deployed." We've been in a war for eight years now, and we have all kind of casualties coming back. So you want to tell the truth. And when you do, you're respected for it. They understand.
Your career included the Vietnam War, when popular sentiment ran against the mission. Did you feel that?
I ran into that a little bit when I was [running] the Boston Recruiting Battalion. We had a recruiting station downtown, not far from Harvard. One of my sergeants called me one day and said, "Sergeant Major, we have some Harvard students who are donating their furniture." I said, "What do you mean?" He said, "They're throwing their chairs through our window." [Laughs.]
So yes, we had problems. But you replaced the window and continued to serve your country. You didn't quit because you had some people who opposed what you were doing.
You volunteered to go to Vietnam?
Well, they put out word they were looking for recruiters. They do that even today, with Iraq and Afghanistan. They become retention and re-enlistment sergeants. When I called in [in 1969], I said, "Do you have any need for sergeant majors?" They had two vacancies, one in the 101st Airborne, one in the "1st Cav." I said "Put me down for one."
Did you ask your wife, Barbara, first?
No, I didn't. [Laughs.] Her reaction was to say, "I knew you would!" She wasn't happy, but she has always been a wonderful Army wife. ... She's still a great volunteer, sending packages to the soldiers overseas.
In May of 1970, she wrote and said, "you volunteered to go over; now I'd like you to volunteer to come back. Please don't extend." I honored that request.
You were right there when the draft ended and volunteer soldiering began.
[That year] I got the best news I ever could have, though I didn't know it then. I was asked to be [senior NCO] of the 1st Recruiting Brigade at Fort Meade. They said, "Your job is going to be to start the new volunteer Army in that area -- you and the new colonel." We had to go out, open new recruiting stations, take care of housing our new recruiters, get phones and office space. I was on the ground floor of the volunteer Army.
Have you ever had second thoughts about America's missions?
No. I always thought they were well thought out, and important, and [if] they get to us, they're something that's so vital, it's important for us to help accomplish the mission. That's something soldiers are taught: Never leave a fallen hero behind; accomplish the mission. Whatever the mission is, lean forward in a foxhole.
How did things change when the military became all-volunteer [in 1973]?
It made an enormous difference. The drafted soldier did a great job for this country. He was a great warrior. But he didn't want to serve. Whereas the fellow who goes to the recruiter is volunteering to go. Today's military can perform its duties with motivated soldiers.
When you recruit a soldier in 2010, he or she will almost surely end up in a war zone. Does that change your feelings?
No. We're aware of what our country needs. We're here to help out in that. And [the recruits] know that. These young men and women today are into computers; they know everything that's happening. They even know what [career] options they want when they come in.
As a modern recruiter, do you keep up on things in Afghanistan and Iraq?
Oh, yes. [I tell people] Afghanistan will be like what North Korea was for me. It was bitter cold, like it is outside right now. We never slept in a bed for a year. ... I have a friend who told me his son is over there now, living in a tent. I said, "As bad as a tent is, it's still better than having no tent and still living out in the elements, in a foxhole with a sleeping bag wrapped around you." There are going to be a lot of hardships for our soldiers who serve over there.
Does today's slow economy help you in recruiting?
We know unemployment is bad. We'd rather see our country fully employed. That means we have to work harder, but that's what we want. But yes, it's a factor that comes into play -- one of many.
Do you have any other recruiting tips?
I've always felt if you're going to take a young man or woman away from [family], you should, out of respect, stay close to that family. I stay in touch by phone, e-mail, postcard. I get calls from all over. The family members become friends.
I have a saying: "Friends are better than money." I've been lucky enough to make many, many friends.
How are you still going at your age?
I've just always liked this. I continued on, and it has worked out beautifully. I certainly don't feel 80.
Barbara and I have always said, "health and happiness first." And as we age gracefully, we begin to realize we're slowing down -- it's part of the way things happen.
Do you work full-time?
My doctor found a bit of a heart constriction. He said, "I know you think age is unimportant, but ... your body is telling you different." I used to work even on Saturdays and Sundays, but now I work from 7 to 11 [in the morning] on weekdays, go home and take care of myself and Barbara. She's not used to having a husband home.
You're starting your 60th year as a recruiter. Do you plan to be doing this in another 10 years?
I'll help out as long as my health holds up. And I'll do it with a great deal of personal pride.
World War II Navajo Code Talkers save lives with heritage
The Inspiration:
Early in 1942, Philip Johnson, the child of missionaries on a Navajo reservation, a World War I veteran and a fluent speaker of Navajo, met with Maj. Gen. Clayton B. Vogel, the commanding general of Amphibious Corps, Pacific Fleet, to pitch the idea of developing an unbreakable code using the Navajo language for use during World War II, according to a report on the subject, available on the Central Intelligence Agency’s Web site.
Johnson pointed out the language, which is unwritten and contains variations in syntax, dialect and tonal qualities, would be indecipherable to someone who didn’t know the language.
Johnson also showed Vogel it was possible to send and decode a coded message in about 20 seconds, whereas the then current method of sending and decoding took about 30 minutes. Vogel went for it.
The First Steps:
The 29 Navajos recruited as the initial code talkers arrived at Camp Elliot, located near San Diego, after recruit training to put together a new code. The code was made more complex with the inclusion of a word substitution system, according to the Web site.
“For us, everything is memory. It’s part of our heritage,” said Carl Gorman, one of the original 29 code talkers, when asked why Navajos were able to memorize the code as quickly as they did, as stated in Marine Administrative Message 0634/09, which recognizes November as National Native American Heritage Month. “We have no written language. Our songs, our prayers, our stories - they’re all handed down from grandfather to children and we listen, we hear, we learn to remember everything.”
The Code:
Once each line of code was translated into English, the Marines pieced together the whole message using only the first letter of each of the translated words. To spell “Army,” a code talker might send “wol-la-chee (ant) gah (rabbit) na-as-tso-si (mouse) tsah-as-zih (yucca),” according to the Navajo code talker’s dictionary, available on www.history.navy.mil.
Each letter had several words associated with it. “A” was represented by “wol-la-chee (ant),” “be-la-sana (apple)” and “tse-nill (axe).” There was also a specialized list of words to represent common military terms, as listed in the dictionary. For example, the code word for “battleship” is “lo-tso,” literally translated as whale.
The dictionary, which originally contained 211 words, included 411 by the war end, according to the CIA Web site.
The Impact:
At first, some military leaders were skeptical about the new system. According to the CIA’s report, the code talkers were tested before being trusted with combat related messages. They proved themselves by sending, receiving and decoding the messages in record time and without error.
“Were it not for the Navajos, the Marines would never have taken Iwo Jima,” said then Maj. Howard Connor, the signal officer for 5th Marine Division at the Battle of Iwo Jima, according to www.navajo.org. Navajo code talkers were a key component of many of the major battles in the Pacific, including Guadalcanal, Tarawa and Peleliu.
The Recognition:
The world wouldn’t know the part Navajo code talkers played until 1968, when the code was declassified. In 1982, former President Ronald Reagan dubbed Aug. 14 “Navajo Code Talkers Day.”
Their story and the contributions of Native Americans across the nation are also remembered during each National Native American Heritage Month.
“This month, we celebrate the ancestry and time honored traditions of American Indians and Alaska Natives in North America. They have guided our land stewardship policies, added immeasurably to our cultural heritage and demonstrated courage in the face of adversity,” said President Barack Obama in a proclamation officially naming this month as National Native American Heritage Month 2009.
The Legacy Upheld:
Today, there are 2,409 Native Americans serving as active duty Marines and 1,508 Native Americans serving in the Marine Corps Reserve, according to Headquarters Marine Corps. So far, 5,509 active duty and reserve Native American Marines have served in Operations Iraqi Freedom and Enduring Freedom.
