thedrifter
06-11-07, 07:15 AM
A WORLD AT WAR
Combat vet never shied away from realities of war
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Brian Albrecht
Plain Dealer Reporter
Peering over tabletop ramparts of old photo albums depicting a much younger and taller George Garden at exotic ports of call, the Rocky River resident recently summed up his 20-year military career.
"I had a wonderful experience," he said in a voice tinged with nostalgic memories of palm trees and sand. "I saw the world, it didn't cost me much, and I made a lot of friends."
The downside was getting shot at in four bloody Pacific invasions during World War II and flirting with the frigid side of death in the Korean War.
That part of his service was definitely not the kind of experience the native Clevelander expected when he joined 166 other recruits at Public Hall in 1942 to swear allegiance to Uncle Sam and the U.S. Marines.
Garden, now 86, said he joined the Corps after a local Navy vet from World War I told him the Marines led a cushy, shipboard life. "That sounded pretty good to me," he said.
That illusion ended the minute he stepped into the bullet-whipped surf at Tarawa and helped drag a 900-pound 37 mm anti-tank gun to the beach.
The gun kept bumping over what Garden initially assumed were sunken logs. He soon discovered they were the bodies of dead Marines. Dozens of them.
"You go numb," he recalled. "You just close your mind to it. That's when the training kicks in. When the time comes, it keeps you going."
Once ashore, he and fellow 2nd Division Marines were ordered to dash across an open airfield to reinforce the front lines. "You could hear the bullets going by," Garden recalled, "and every once in a while somebody would go bloop" - he flopped an upraised hand to one side, representing an imaginary Marine felled by imaginary wounds.
Garden remembered incongruity mixing with horror at the time, as he could only think, "What're they shooting at me for? I didn't do anything."
Three days later when the battle ended and Garden could count himself lucky that he wasn't among the 3,000 American casualties, he figured he'd seen and survived the worst. "I thought all combat was like that," he said.
But no, each subsequent island of sand and death held its own special surprises.
There was the night on Saipan when Garden was shaken awake to the nightmarish scene of Japanese tanks rumbling toward him through the hissing glare of aerial flares. "Oh my gosh, that's my job," he remembered thinking.
He and the gun crew set to work, firing every 19 seconds into the advancing enemy. "Those tanks were like tin. Our shells went right through them," he said.
By then, he had learned a lot about killing.
"When you get in combat and see your buddies die, you get in the mood," he said. "After your first firefight and you're still alive, you even feel good about it [the killing]. You don't think you're going to, but you do."
But even hardened combat veterans paled as victory on Saipan neared and hundreds of civilians - told by the Japanese that they would be tortured and slain if captured by the Americans - jumped from steep cliffs into shark-infested waters.
"They'd throw the older children off first, then mothers would run with babies in their arms, then the fathers," Garden recalled. "If we moved up closer, they went faster. Or the Japanese soldiers would start shooting them.
"That was the sad part and one of those things you remember all your life."
Next came Tinian, then the slow, slogging battle of attrition at Okinawa.
One final scene of the war's death and destruction awaited Garden when he joined American occupation forces at Nagasaki, which had been blasted to rubble by the second atomic bomb dropped on Japan.
Garden was awestruck as his unit drove through the devastated city, unaware of the danger of lingering radiation.
"It's hard to compare to anything else," he said. "It was kind of eerie, seeing nothing left standing except part of a building here and there."
Garden made it through the entire war unscathed - an accomplishment that amazed even him. (That good fortune later ended when he fought in the Korean War and was wounded by mortar shrapnel.)
"I was lucky," he said. "Lots of guys did a lot more than me and didn't make it. It was just something we had to do, that's all.
"I had a charmed life in the Corps. I really did."
Submissions to "A World at War" can be made by contacting reporter Brian Albrecht at The Plain Dealer, 1801 Superior Ave., Cleveland, OH 44114;
balbrecht@plaind.com or 216-999-4853.
Ellie
Combat vet never shied away from realities of war
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Brian Albrecht
Plain Dealer Reporter
Peering over tabletop ramparts of old photo albums depicting a much younger and taller George Garden at exotic ports of call, the Rocky River resident recently summed up his 20-year military career.
"I had a wonderful experience," he said in a voice tinged with nostalgic memories of palm trees and sand. "I saw the world, it didn't cost me much, and I made a lot of friends."
The downside was getting shot at in four bloody Pacific invasions during World War II and flirting with the frigid side of death in the Korean War.
That part of his service was definitely not the kind of experience the native Clevelander expected when he joined 166 other recruits at Public Hall in 1942 to swear allegiance to Uncle Sam and the U.S. Marines.
Garden, now 86, said he joined the Corps after a local Navy vet from World War I told him the Marines led a cushy, shipboard life. "That sounded pretty good to me," he said.
That illusion ended the minute he stepped into the bullet-whipped surf at Tarawa and helped drag a 900-pound 37 mm anti-tank gun to the beach.
The gun kept bumping over what Garden initially assumed were sunken logs. He soon discovered they were the bodies of dead Marines. Dozens of them.
"You go numb," he recalled. "You just close your mind to it. That's when the training kicks in. When the time comes, it keeps you going."
Once ashore, he and fellow 2nd Division Marines were ordered to dash across an open airfield to reinforce the front lines. "You could hear the bullets going by," Garden recalled, "and every once in a while somebody would go bloop" - he flopped an upraised hand to one side, representing an imaginary Marine felled by imaginary wounds.
Garden remembered incongruity mixing with horror at the time, as he could only think, "What're they shooting at me for? I didn't do anything."
Three days later when the battle ended and Garden could count himself lucky that he wasn't among the 3,000 American casualties, he figured he'd seen and survived the worst. "I thought all combat was like that," he said.
But no, each subsequent island of sand and death held its own special surprises.
There was the night on Saipan when Garden was shaken awake to the nightmarish scene of Japanese tanks rumbling toward him through the hissing glare of aerial flares. "Oh my gosh, that's my job," he remembered thinking.
He and the gun crew set to work, firing every 19 seconds into the advancing enemy. "Those tanks were like tin. Our shells went right through them," he said.
By then, he had learned a lot about killing.
"When you get in combat and see your buddies die, you get in the mood," he said. "After your first firefight and you're still alive, you even feel good about it [the killing]. You don't think you're going to, but you do."
But even hardened combat veterans paled as victory on Saipan neared and hundreds of civilians - told by the Japanese that they would be tortured and slain if captured by the Americans - jumped from steep cliffs into shark-infested waters.
"They'd throw the older children off first, then mothers would run with babies in their arms, then the fathers," Garden recalled. "If we moved up closer, they went faster. Or the Japanese soldiers would start shooting them.
"That was the sad part and one of those things you remember all your life."
Next came Tinian, then the slow, slogging battle of attrition at Okinawa.
One final scene of the war's death and destruction awaited Garden when he joined American occupation forces at Nagasaki, which had been blasted to rubble by the second atomic bomb dropped on Japan.
Garden was awestruck as his unit drove through the devastated city, unaware of the danger of lingering radiation.
"It's hard to compare to anything else," he said. "It was kind of eerie, seeing nothing left standing except part of a building here and there."
Garden made it through the entire war unscathed - an accomplishment that amazed even him. (That good fortune later ended when he fought in the Korean War and was wounded by mortar shrapnel.)
"I was lucky," he said. "Lots of guys did a lot more than me and didn't make it. It was just something we had to do, that's all.
"I had a charmed life in the Corps. I really did."
Submissions to "A World at War" can be made by contacting reporter Brian Albrecht at The Plain Dealer, 1801 Superior Ave., Cleveland, OH 44114;
balbrecht@plaind.com or 216-999-4853.
Ellie