Tom's Uncle Frank

[Originally posted in Tony's Rants, Jan 20, 2008]

We were sitting in our cubicle talking about Bill’s latest trip for work. He went to Hawaii and he was telling us about going to the USS Arizona Memorial. He mentioned that he didn’t see any Imburgios or any Rutherfords on the wall, but he did see a few Howards there. This got Tom to tell us a story about his Uncle Frank. He allowed me to share this story with anyone who cares to read about it. Hopefully I can write it as well as he told it. This is an amazing story…

During the late 1930s, Uncle Frank was a bit of a troublemaker in Brooklyn, so much so that his mother wanted to get him out of the house. This being during the Great Depression and the era of FDR’s New Deal, Uncle Frank’s mom decided to enlist him in the Civilian Conservation Corps. He shipped out to Idaho so he could spend his youth cutting down trees to build national parks. Uncle Frank soon grew tired of the outdoor life, so he hitch-hiked all the way back to Brooklyn. This was long before the advent of interstate highways, so to hitch-hike from Idaho to Brooklyn was quite a feat. Uncle Frank showed up back at his house but his mom wasn’t too thrilled to see him, so she took Uncle Frank to the nearest Army recruiter and enlisted her under-age son. This is where the story starts to get interesting…

After basic training, Uncle Frank soon found himself stationed at the Schofield Barracks in Hawaii. His unit, and others like his also stationed at Schofield Barracks, rotated regularly to the Philippines. Uncle Frank spent a bit of time in the PI. Now, Uncle Frank was pretty good with dice. He got into a crap game and ended up winning over $3,000. This is $3,000 in 1941 money, so you might say Uncle Frank scored big – really big. When his unit was due to rotate back to Hawaii, Uncle Frank went to his commanding officer and asked if he could fly the Pan Am Clipper back to Hawaii instead of taking the normal troop transport ship. His CO told Uncle Frank that if he could show him the ticket, he would take care of the necessary paperwork so Uncle Frank could fly to Hawaii. So Uncle Frank headed to Manila and bought himself a ticket with his crap game winnings for the Clipper. He made the flight with no problem and flew back to Hawaii ahead of his unit. He arrived in Hawaii on Dec 6, 1941. Upon his arrival he met up with some sailors from the battleship USS Arizona. They went out partying, eating and drinking and living it up like they were Romans. When all the fun and games ended that night, his newfound sailor buddies offered to let him sleep that night on the ship. Uncle Frank said “no thanks” and took a taxi back to Schofield Barracks.

Early on the morning of Dec 7th, some of Uncle Frank’s comrades woke him up so they could get an early breakfast at one of the local establishments. Uncle Frank, who wasn’t feeling too well because of his adventures the night before, declined and decided he’d eat at the chow hall on the post when he became somewhat human again. Shortly thereafter, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. They also attacked Schofield Barracks. It turns out the place Uncle Frank’s friends went to eat got blown up by the Japanese. A hangover saved Uncle Frank. I asked Tom whatever became of the sailors from the Arizona that Uncle Frank partied with the night before. His response: they’re still on the Arizona. Uncle Frank cheated death at both Schofield Barracks and Pearl Harbor. I asked Tom what happened to Uncle Frank’s unit that was supposed to come home from the Philippines. He said they never shipped home – they participated in the Bataan Death March. Somebody or something was definitely looking out for Uncle Frank.

During World War II, the Army operated on a points system. Depending on what kind of missions or what kind of hazards you faced, you could earn a certain number of points to get to the required number to be able to rotate Stateside. Uncle Frank decided he was going to volunteer for as much hazardous duty as he could get away with in order to get home as soon as possible. He fought the Japanese hand-to-hand in the jungles of New Guinea. In one engagement he killed a Japanese officer and got his samurai sword for a war trophy. Uncle Frank carried that sword with him wherever he went. Tom told us that he and his brother heard these stories from Uncle Frank, but they didn’t really believe him because they sounded so outlandish. They do have sort of a “Forrest Gump” quality to them. Uncle Frank’s wife took Tom and his brother aside and showed him this box. Inside this box were Uncle Frank’s medals – two Silver Stars, three Bronze Stars, and a few others. Also included in this box was a picture of Uncle Frank holding up a Japanese flag [see the picture above]. This was another souvenir from New Guinea. Tom told us that there were a lot of “spots” on that little Japanese flag. Those were Japanese blood stains. It soon dawned on Tom and his brother that “damn, Uncle Frank was a no-shit war hero!” Yeah, I think two Silver Stars and three Bronze Stars qualifies.

Uncle Frank volunteered for other hazardous duty. In one such instance, he volunteered to become a spotter for naval artillery. The practice during World War II was for the Navy to patrol offshore any island that was targeted for invasion, and then soften up the Japanese defenses with continuous artillery bombardment before the Marines would hit the beach. In one such instance, Uncle Frank and one naval officer was taken ashore in the Philippines in 1944 for just such duty. He and this officer landed during the night [taken there by submarine], and they were hidden by Filipino guerillas until it was time to go to work spotting for the Navy. Shortly thereafter, MacArthur’s army invaded the Philippines. It was MacArthur’s famous "return."

In another such instance of volunteering for hazardous duty, Uncle Frank discovered there were openings to become gunners on the then-new B-29 bombers. Uncle Frank volunteered, went through the training, and then became a B-29 crewmember. He flew on two or three missions over Japan without incident. The next mission didn’t go so well. Uncle Frank’s plane was shot down over the Pacific. He spent a couple of days in a life raft waiting to be rescued. Once he was rescued and returned to home base, Uncle Frank decided he’d had enough of air duty and went back to being a ground-pounder. I guess this was Uncle Frank’s last brush with death. He didn’t bring his samurai sword home with him, though. He had his war trophy with his gear ready to ship out to go home when the war ended. But when he was reunited with his gear at journey’s end, the sword was gone. Someone had stolen the sword that Uncle Frank took from that Japanese officer he killed in New Guinea. He’s still pissed about that – hell, after what he went through to get it, I’d be pissed off too.

Uncle Frank is one lucky man. I wonder if he’s ever played the lottery… Thanks Tom for letting me share a part of your family history. Of course, thanks to Uncle Frank, a genuine war hero.