Local Marine talks about WWII

[thedrifter]

Local Marine talks about WWII
By Kay Stephens, kstephens@altoonamirror.com
POSTED: May 25, 2009

The world was different in 1942.

Francis Bleicher of Newry was 21 years old and he was working for the railroad. Pearl Harbor had been bombed and the United States was at war.

By fall, eight months after getting married, Bleicher knew what he had to do. He believed the local draft board was watching him and that he would be called anytime.

"So I signed up," Bleicher said. "Then I went in and told the draft board what I did."

Signing up on Oct. 1, 1942, was the easy part of being a Marine during World War II.

Bleicher left Newry and went through training at Parris Island, Quantico and camps Lejeune and Pendleton before being shipped to Honolulu, commonly referred to as the Big Island.

From there, he ended up as part of the Fifth Division, one of two Marine groups sent to Iwo Jima, midway between the Japanese and American bomber bases in the Mariana Islands.

"We were the fifth division and referred to as the spearhead," Bleicher said. "I think it was because we were to be the first to go in."

Bleicher, now 88, in the dining room of his comfortable Newry home, held a small bottle of sand that he rolled between his thumb and fingers. The sand inside came from Iwo Jima.

"One of my friends sent me that," Bleicher said.

The battle of Iwo Jima is etched in U.S. history as the only Marine battle where American casualties, 26,000, exceeded the 22,000 Japanese casualties. Of the 26,000 American casualties, more than 6,800 died.

Bleicher hasn't forgotten the fighting, the blood, the carnage and the aftermath.

"There were moments that were tough," the white-haired veteran said before correcting himself. "No, it was all tough. You never knew what was going to happen, at any time."

Bleicher later walked to a corner of the dining room and pulled a sword from its leather sheath. It came from a dead Japanese soldier.

Beyond the fighting, Bleicher's war memories are linked to basic needs or the lack of them. He remembers a time when his unit was "dug in" and the Navy found a way to send in bread. But the bread, he said, was made of flour with weevils. The soldiers started picking them and one made a reference to rye bread.

"No, it wasn't rye bread" Bleicher said with sheepish smile. "They ate it. And I guess I ate it too. What are you going to do?"

He also remembers leaving Iwo Jima, on an LST, or landing ship tank, called the USS President Jackson. Military historians say it earned eight battle stars during World War II. About 18 months before Bleicher set foot on that ship, it was hit by a 550-pound Japanese bomb. When the bomb failed to explode, the Marines on board rolled it over the side of the ship.

Bleicher remembers the USS President Jackson as "a big fancy ship" where he and his fellow soldiers, weary and rough looking from fighting for days, climbed aboard and asked if there was anything to eat.

"Bread and coffee was the answer," he said.

Butter for the bread, in big gallon cans, came from New Zealand.

The next morning, a Navy transporter arrived with gear for those aboard the ship.

Bleicher said his lieutenant ordered him and eight others to go down over the side of the ship and board the transporter.

"I crawled down over with the rest of the men and when I turned around, there was Chalmer Nash from Newry ... my hunting buddy," Bleicher said.

Nash is no longer alive, but Bleicher's memory of running into him thousands of miles from home remains. Bleicher hasn't forgotten what happened after their reunion, too. While he and Nash were excited to see each other, his men waited for orders.

"My lieutenant called down and said: 'Bleicher: Don't you know you're holding up the war?'" he said.

Bleicher's discharge date was Jan. 11, 1946.

By then, he had seen a lot, traveled many miles, and knew that he would head "back to little Newry."

His wife, Mary Jean, and a daughter, Kathy, were waiting for him.

"Those were rough years, when he was away," Mary Jean Bleicher said. "I would go to the post office twice a day to see if there was mail."

She said she showed her husband's picture to their daughter and called him "Daddy." When he came home, the 2-year-old knew who he was.

"That was a happy day," Mary Jean Bleicher said.

Bleicher said he didn't tell his wife about his pending arrival home.

He was discharged through Bainbridge, Md., and boarded a train.

"I got off the train in Altoona and asked myself: 'Am I going to take a street car or bum a ride?'" Bleicher said. "Then I thought, aw, hell with it, I'm going to take a taxi cab."

The ride from Altoona to Newry cost him $5.

It was 11 o'clock at night when he got into town, and peeked through a window where his wife was playing cards. She said she doesn't remember being scared or jolted by his out-of-the-blue appearance.

"I count my blessings," she said. "At least he came home."

Mirror Staff Writer Kay Stephens is at 946-7456.


The Bleicher file

Name: Francis Bleicher

Age: 88

Hometown: Newry

Service: U.S. Marine, World War II, from Oct. 1, 1942, to Jan. 11, 1946

Work: Retired in 1981 from Conrail

Family: Wife, Mary Jean, 88, retired cafeteria manager for St. Patrick's School, Newry; four adult children: Kathy and Jeannie of Hollidaysburg, Gordon of Newry and Brian in South Carolina.

Ellie