artillery does some good, and other times it doesn't. But if he (the artillery commander) doesn't make a hit the first time, he tries it again. The Japanese understand this terrain down to the last doggone soldier, and they usually pick the strategic spots to defend. Ridgelines are a cinch for defense. Almost invariably, a spot can be found that has only one approach along a narrow path so that only a couple of men can assault at a time. The thing I can't really understand is that we have as few casualties as we do. The Japanese really dig in. At every position we take, we find tunnels and caves deep underground. The artillery doesn't kill them as long as they stay in their holes, but it freezes them to the spot so that the infantry can get to them. Then once we have the objective taken, we must hold it against counter attack and prepare for the next move. When we find a spot we can't get to, we arrange for the area to be bombed. So it goes, on and on. The only satisfaction of taking a ridge is being able to look over to the next one to be taken. Every situation is different and depends on the artillery being in the right place, and I am just one of the five or six observers who are doing the same thing at the same time. The last time I was out was particularly bad. We ran out of water and food and had a lot of casualties. I spent half of one night bandaging wounds because the medics were busy with the more serious cases. Most guys are scared to death when they'd get hit, and we have a hard time getting them quieted down. I suppose I would be worse than any of them that I saw. It's hard to not let it get to you when a man is bleeding and crying at the same time. But you finally become indifferent to it (even when what you see is the worst imaginable). Well, enough of my private war for now. I try to not think of it too much. A man is so busy with the little details of living that he doesn't have a lot of time to worry over his future or to even mourn the loss of his friends.' My military rank was advanced to first lieutenant during the war. I was made battery commander and had the responsibility of approximately 100 men during our preparation for the invasion of occupation troops; and during the next three months, we collected and inventoried Japanese weapons. Letter: Honshu Island, Japan, Sept. 1945. 'It doesn't make sense about the Japanese here. We fought them and learned to think of them as being treacherous, sadistic, and fanatical, but we came here in reconnaissance of their home islands and they are as docile and obedient as anyone could possibly be. Their army has carried out instructions to the letter, as well. They have gathered all their military supplies, inventoried and stacked them, and demobilized their army. Incidentally they have an unusual way of accomplishing that feat. They line up their men and say 'dismissed', and it is all over with, no separation centers, no mustering out pay, no transportation home, nothing. I'll never get over how benevolent Uncle Sam is. They say kindness begets kindness, so we pay the Japanese workers and we are instructed to not work them too hard, and to be sure they get a ten-minute break every hour.' By the time I returned home, 2 1/2 years had passed since I had seen my wife, Ava Welker Andelin. What a joyous reunion that was; we had been married only two weeks when I went overseas. I arrived back in Utah in December 1945, and was allowed a few months of terminal leave. The Army released me from active duty in April 1946. Probably the most valuable thing I gained from this critical and lengthy period of service was the experience of dealing with so many types of individuals and observing their many facets of human nature. I continued my involvement with the military for several years in the Officers Reserve Corps at the rank of captain. Military decorations and citations: Bronze Star Medal. Commendation for Bravery in Combat Action, PA Executive Officer, U.S. Armed Forces, Luzon, Philippines. Asiatic Pacific Campaign Medal with two Bronze Stars, Philippines Liberation Ribbon with one Bronze Star, American Defense Service Medal, American Campaign Medal, World War II Victory Medal, and five Overseas Service Bars. Ingar Nielsen Andersen During the latter part of the war, the Japanese were invading the Philippines. One night we went out into the dugout, and the Japanese came through our camp to knock out our big guns. I had a grenade to throw, and I pulled the pin and accidentally dropped the grenade. Someone said, 'Pick it up,' because we only had five seconds before it would explode. I picked it up in enough time, and it exploded in the air. When we arrived on the island, we came in the third wave, and the boat we came in on had a bomb on it. After we were safe on the island, it sailed back out to sea and sank! 74 I used to swim in the ocean right there where we were, and a Man O' War jellyfish stung me. I was stung on my chest and front arm, temporarily paralyzing my arm. I was lucky, however, because I was only in the water up to my chest and was able to walk back. Had I been a few inches deeper, I wouldn't have been able to make it back. Everywhere I was stung by the Man O' War was a red mark, which eventually scabbed over. The doctors agreed that I was lucky to get back alive. My Dad's military service began in 1937 when he enlisted as a private. He received his early training throughout the U.S., including California, Texas and Mississippi. On a ten-day furlough in February 1943, Dad rode a train for 36 hours and arrived in Ogden, Utah to marry his sweetheart, Lola Holmes on Valentine's Day. They had three days together before he caught the train to head back to camp. He was sent to Europe in 1944 as part of Patton's Third Army. By then, Dad was a second lieutenant and was serving in the Army Medical Corps, Company C, and 319th Medical Battalion. His position was that of litter bearer platoon leader. My sister and I recently conducted an oral history with Dad as part of the Library of Congress Veteran History Project. I sat with Dad for over an hour, my eyes filled with tears, as he recounted some of his experiences during World War II as a medic. The courage it took Dad to lead a group of young soldiers, usually forty-five or fifty onto the battlefield to assist the wounded and carry them out for medical attention, is remarkable. The work was literally on the front lines. The rescued soldiers were removed by Dad's platoon and carried off the field to be taken, usually by ambulance, to a field hospital several miles away. Often Dad and his soldiers worked many hours straight, making repeated trips to and from the battlefield under extremely dangerous circumstances. Dad was directly responsible for helping to save the lives of hundreds of soldiers, often at great peril to him and those he led. On March 13, 1945, the 94th began its dash to the Rhine. Three days later it was spearheading the Third and Seventh Armies with flanking divisions as far as thirty miles to its rear. With unleashed fury, the attack swept over the Saar-Palatinate, flattening enemy defenses and installations. Supporting armor took days to reach the troops they were supposed to have spearheaded. Tanks never did catch up to the 302nd Combat team. Reinforced by the 390th FA Battalion, the 301 st drove to Birkenfeld before going into reserve. The 376th took its place and smashed rapidly ahead. The drive was eight days old before the 376th Combat team, including the 919th FA Battalion, reinforced by the 301 st FA Battalion, was overtaken by the armor. The ten-day drive from the Saar netted the division over 15,000 prisoners of war captured. The climax of the drive was reached when the German chemical center of Ludwigshafen (with a pre-war population of 143,000) fell to troops of the 94th Division and supporting armor. Ludwigshafen brought to over 200 the number of towns taken by the division, and a battle star for Central Europe was added to campaign ribbons. There is no doubt in my mind that he had heavenly protection throughout that period of service, and it has continued throughout his life. For his bravery, Dad received the Bronze Star medal with the following citation: 'First Lieutenant Frank D. Arnold, 01544813, Medical Administrative Corps, Company C, 319 Medical Battalion, United States Army, is awarded the Bronze Star for meritorious achievement in connection with military operations against an enemy of the United States in Germany. Lieutenant Arnold distinguished himself by his outstanding work as a litter platoon leader. He actively supervised the deployments of his litter squads, frequently making trips into areas which were densely mined and heavily covered by intense hostile fire. Lieutenant Arnold's courage, efficiency and loyalty to duty reflect the highest credit upon himself and the Armed Services of the United States.' After seventeen months in Europe, including Scotland, England, France, Germany, Belgium, Luxembourg, Holland, and Czechoslovakia, Dad returned to the U.S. He retired from the commissioned corps of the U.S. Public Health Service in 1982, after 45 years of uniformed service. Submitted by Jerliyn Hess, daughter 75