and he was killed instantly. I then crawled back down the hill and treated the wounded Marine. Later that day, I went back to the Company Command Post to re-stock our medical supplies. By this time, my eye was swollen shut as a result of the grenade fragment; and I was covered in blood from treating or lifting casualties. When I walked into the Company Command Post, I was asked by the commander, 'So, how's the fighting up there, Doc?' I must have been pretty frustrated by then because I snapped back at him without thinking and said 'Why don't you go see for yourself.' I was lucky he didn't court-martial me on the spot! Instead, he could see that I was injured, and he told me to report to the aid station. Instead, I quickly grabbed a couple of first aid kits and walked out to return to my unit. A few days later, our unit was half-way up another hill; and I was treating the leg of a wounded Marine. I needed to get him out of the line of fire, so I took the man under the arms and dragged him toward the protection of a shell hole. Without warning, an artillery shell landed directly behind me, and I slammed to the ground with the force of a sledge hammer hitting me in the back. A piece of shrapnel had ripped a chunk of flesh out of my back and right shoulder. I was paralyzed on the right side of my body, so I just laid there for a few minutes. The feeling slowly returned, so I crawled down the hill to have another Marine look it. As he peeled away my jacket, he laughed and said 'Oh Doc, you've just got a big hunk of flesh out of your back.' So he helped me apply a battle dressing, and I went back up the hill to find my platoon. By the end of the day, I was the only corpsman of seven left in my company. After twelve days, we were making some progress; but the Japanese resistance was very fierce, and the Marines were still suffering significant losses. I was able to keep up with my platoon but was summoned by a platoon sergeant from another unit who told me to go find a casualty up the hill. As I climbed up the hill, I reached a group of five Marines in a shell hole and was about to ask them of the whereabouts of the casualty. Suddenly, their shell hole took a direct hit from a mortar round, and I was blown several feet from the blast. As I tried to crawl over to treat the casualties, my leg collapsed. I looked down at my foot and could see that my boot was partially blown off and my leg was bleeding. When I put pressure on it, I realized that my leg was broken. At that point I recognized that I would have to be evacuated. I applied a battle dressing and gave myself a morphine shot. While I was waiting for the stretcher bearers, I crawled up to the wounded Marines and began working on the most seriously wounded. One Marine had lost both his legs. I crawled over to him and applied a tourniquet to the bleeding stumps. Finally two other corpsmen had arrived and helped treat the four other wounded Marines. Still waiting my turn to be evacuated, I heard the call for a corpsman about fifty yards ahead of me. I crawled on my side and was able to treat his severely damaged legs. We both shimmied towards the protection of a shell hole, where we waited for the stretcher bearers. On March 2, 1945, my battle experience came to an end. I spent the night at a field hospital, and the next day was transferred to a ship offshore. After several days, I arrived in Guam and was transported to a hospital where my leg was evaluated for further treatment. One day I was resting in bed, when to my amazement, I met my platoon sergeant, who was blown in the air by an artillery blast that destroyed his leg, arm and part of his face. The sergeant eventually recovered well enough to live and prosper to a ripe old age. Needing further attention to my slow-healing leg, I was sent to the Naval hospital at Pearl Harbor, and spent several weeks there. While there, I met the Marine I had treated, whose stomach wounds left his intestines exposed. I was amazed to see this young Marine almost fully recovered from his wounds. Several months after I left Iwo Jima, I was notified that I had been awarded two Navy Crosses, the second highest award given to the fighting forces. I was impressed, and thought to myself "Wow, this is happening to me?" VJ Day was September 2, 1945, but even months after the peace was declared, war bond drives were still active trying to raise funds through various patriotic events, often using recently decorated veterans to help make the pitch. In late September, I was notified that I was to report to the Naval Headquarters in Washington, D.C. at 0900 hours on October 4, 1945. Without an explanation of why, I supposed that with two Navy Crosses, I was going to be a pitch-man for the 'Mighty 7th War Bond Drive.' I arrived on October 2, and decided to check into a hotel and see the sights before reporting for duty. On October 4, I reported for duty at 0900 hours. I was immediately accosted by a Navy commander who asked, 'Where have you been? We've been looking all over for you.' It was then I learned that I was going to receive the Medal of Honor. October 5, 1945 was Nimitz Day in the nation's capitol, a day to honor Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz and the successes of the Pacific Fleet during the war. I 182 was one of 14 to receive the Medal of Honor, which included eleven Marines and two others from the Navy. When I arrived at the White House, I was terrified to see all the dignitaries and officers. Among the onlookers were Generals George Marshall, George Patton, Hap Arnold, Admiral Nimitz, and Secretary of Defense James Forrestal. When it was my turn to walk across the portico to salute the Commander in Chief, I was so nervous. I saw President Truman's outstretched hand; and after a long pause, President Truman thought to ease my nerves, so he said 'Glad to see a pill pusher finally made it up here,' and I couldn't help but smile. He smiled at me and said 'I feel honored to be able to give you the Medal of Honor,' and he fastened the clasp around my neck. I politely replied 'Thank you Mr. President,' and I eagerly walked off the portico and back in line with the other recipients. President Truman awarding Medal of Honor After the medal ceremony, I and the other Medal of Honor recipients were whisked away into waiting convertibles, where we formed a line of cars behind Admiral Nimitz for a full-blown military parade, complete with marching bands and ticker tape. After the parade, we traveled up Pennsylvania Avenue to the U.S. Capitol, where we were presented before a joint session of the U.S. Senate and House of Representatives. The day ended with a special banquet where I met Admiral Nimitz and got his autograph. A day or so later, I returned to Utah; and the Ogden Standard-Examiner featured me in a front-page spread. Shortly after the newspaper article, my parents were called by the Ogden Mayor and asked that I be honored in a hero's parade through downtown Ogden. I didn't want all the hoopla, so I told the mayor that my leg was in pain, and that I needed to return to the hospital for further treatment. I was discharged in December of 1945 and returned to live with my parents on their farm. Over the years I have been invited to every presidential inauguration except Lyndon B. Johnson. I have been active in promoting veterans' causes and was part of the effort to build the first veterans' nursing home in Utah. I sometimes wonder why I am so well blessed. Although things have not always worked out the way I've planned them, they seem to work out. Editor's note: In 2004 President George W. Bush signed legislation officially naming the veterans hospital in Salt Lake City in honor of George E. Wahlen. Raymond Farr Wiggins Raymond served in the Navy with the rank of first class petty officer from 1943 to 1945. He received two Presidential Citations and Special Accommodation Honors from the secretary of the Navy and the governor of Utah. He served aboard the Kitkun Bay Carrier. The ship was a flag ship that carried an admiral. His ship was hit in the China Sea by a kamikaze suicide plane. When the ship was hit, most of his mates were killed. He was the electrician, and it was his responsibility to go below in the engine room to start the generators to get the ship running again. He and only a handful of sailors kept the ship running to get her back to Pearl Harbor for repair. This is why he received the Presidential Citation and other awards. He turned down the Purple Heart even though he had a broken hand. His next assignment, after the ship was able to travel, was to go back to Japan to pick up the prisoners of war. He brought them back to Pearl Harbor to the hospital and then set out for more. USS Kitkun Bay under kamikaze attack 183