thedrifter
06-26-09, 07:43 AM
denver and the west
A final toast to WWII Marines
By Colleen O'Connor
The Denver Post
The Denver Post
Posted:06/26/2009 01:00:00 AM MDT
The first men to drive amphibious tractors in World War II are now gathering for their last reunion: a final toast of Old Grand Dad whiskey poured into 15 shot glasses emblazoned with the Marine Corps emblem.
That bottle of whiskey has been with them since their first reunion, back in 1982.
The plan was to save it until there were only two of them left standing. But with some now well into their 90s and some too ill to travel, they decided to make this the final salute.
"The combat situation is a lifetime experience," said Jim Boring, 83, the youngest member.
"I'm closer to some of these Marines I was in the war with than I am with my regular friends," he said. "It's a relationship that can't be duplicated any other way."
On Saturday night at the Inverness Hotel, these 15 Marines of the 2nd Amphibian Tractor Battalion will gather for a banquet, with performances by the U.S. Marine Corps Color Guard and the Douglas County Young Marines Drill Team.
The meeting has changed locations every year, traveling to cities where the members live. They chose Denver for the last gathering, because Boring's daughter lives in Colorado.
These men are the last remnant of a generation fast disappearing. World War II veterans are dying at a rate of about 1,100 a day, according to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs.
Most are octogenarians. One is 96. They use canes and wheelchairs and hearing aids.
"I'm going to miss these very much," said Boring, who became a preacher after the war and now serves as their chaplain.
Back then they called him "Kid."
He was 17, and their first mission together was in 1943 at the Battle of Tarawa in the Gilbert Islands.
It was the first test for the Alligator Amphibian tractors, designed by Donald Robeling, whose grandson also attends these reunions.
"It was just like being in hell," said Dwight Hellums, 88, who now lives in Mississippi.
In that three-day battle, all but 146 of 5,000 Japanese were killed. One thousand Marines were killed, and nearly 2,300 were wounded.
As the amphibian tractors made it over the reefs, they were mowed down by Japanese artillery.
"I was in the first wave," said Boring, who was 17 at the time. "I didn't even make it to the beach. They blew mine out the water before it got there."
He bailed out, swam to a reef, got on another tractor and went right back in.
"The resistance from the beach was tremendous," he said. "I don't know how anybody lived through it. I was just in a daze all the time I was there."
As the men told war stories, they were interrupted by Clay Evans, the Longmont Humane Society's development director, who'd seen their battalion sign in the hall as he passed by for a conference.
"Were you guys on Tarawa?" he asked. "My grandfather was Alexander Bonnyman, who was killed there."
Ralph Barber, 86, leaned forward on his cane, and stared intently.
Like the other Marines, he knew all about Evans' grandfather, who'd received a posthumous Congressional Medal of Honor for storming a Japanese stronghold.
"You're always surprised who comes in here," said Hellums, shaking his head.
After the war, these soldiers carved out new lives: lawyers, farmers, policemen.
Not until 1982 did they gather together for the first reunion, in Tulsa, Okla.
At first, they brought their journals and memorabilia, stained newspaper clippings about places they'd served, from Tarawa to Saipan. They now travel lighter.
"It's getting to the point if you can bring yourself and your own clothes and make it here, you're doing well," said Marie Darnell, wife of Robert Darnell, who now uses a wheelchair.
The soldiers and their wives treasure their memories of reunions gone by.
"Every year, they fight World War II," Marie said, "and every year they win."
Colleen O'Connor: 303-954-1083 or coconnor@denverpost.com
Ellie
A final toast to WWII Marines
By Colleen O'Connor
The Denver Post
The Denver Post
Posted:06/26/2009 01:00:00 AM MDT
The first men to drive amphibious tractors in World War II are now gathering for their last reunion: a final toast of Old Grand Dad whiskey poured into 15 shot glasses emblazoned with the Marine Corps emblem.
That bottle of whiskey has been with them since their first reunion, back in 1982.
The plan was to save it until there were only two of them left standing. But with some now well into their 90s and some too ill to travel, they decided to make this the final salute.
"The combat situation is a lifetime experience," said Jim Boring, 83, the youngest member.
"I'm closer to some of these Marines I was in the war with than I am with my regular friends," he said. "It's a relationship that can't be duplicated any other way."
On Saturday night at the Inverness Hotel, these 15 Marines of the 2nd Amphibian Tractor Battalion will gather for a banquet, with performances by the U.S. Marine Corps Color Guard and the Douglas County Young Marines Drill Team.
The meeting has changed locations every year, traveling to cities where the members live. They chose Denver for the last gathering, because Boring's daughter lives in Colorado.
These men are the last remnant of a generation fast disappearing. World War II veterans are dying at a rate of about 1,100 a day, according to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs.
Most are octogenarians. One is 96. They use canes and wheelchairs and hearing aids.
"I'm going to miss these very much," said Boring, who became a preacher after the war and now serves as their chaplain.
Back then they called him "Kid."
He was 17, and their first mission together was in 1943 at the Battle of Tarawa in the Gilbert Islands.
It was the first test for the Alligator Amphibian tractors, designed by Donald Robeling, whose grandson also attends these reunions.
"It was just like being in hell," said Dwight Hellums, 88, who now lives in Mississippi.
In that three-day battle, all but 146 of 5,000 Japanese were killed. One thousand Marines were killed, and nearly 2,300 were wounded.
As the amphibian tractors made it over the reefs, they were mowed down by Japanese artillery.
"I was in the first wave," said Boring, who was 17 at the time. "I didn't even make it to the beach. They blew mine out the water before it got there."
He bailed out, swam to a reef, got on another tractor and went right back in.
"The resistance from the beach was tremendous," he said. "I don't know how anybody lived through it. I was just in a daze all the time I was there."
As the men told war stories, they were interrupted by Clay Evans, the Longmont Humane Society's development director, who'd seen their battalion sign in the hall as he passed by for a conference.
"Were you guys on Tarawa?" he asked. "My grandfather was Alexander Bonnyman, who was killed there."
Ralph Barber, 86, leaned forward on his cane, and stared intently.
Like the other Marines, he knew all about Evans' grandfather, who'd received a posthumous Congressional Medal of Honor for storming a Japanese stronghold.
"You're always surprised who comes in here," said Hellums, shaking his head.
After the war, these soldiers carved out new lives: lawyers, farmers, policemen.
Not until 1982 did they gather together for the first reunion, in Tulsa, Okla.
At first, they brought their journals and memorabilia, stained newspaper clippings about places they'd served, from Tarawa to Saipan. They now travel lighter.
"It's getting to the point if you can bring yourself and your own clothes and make it here, you're doing well," said Marie Darnell, wife of Robert Darnell, who now uses a wheelchair.
The soldiers and their wives treasure their memories of reunions gone by.
"Every year, they fight World War II," Marie said, "and every year they win."
Colleen O'Connor: 303-954-1083 or coconnor@denverpost.com
Ellie