Bougainville: A Marine's Story

By Doan Helms Jr.

"Bougainville - A Marine's Story" ispartof my father's (Doan Helms) autobiography. He was an Indiana farm boy born in 1920.This rousing page turnerdescribes him enlisting in the Marines shortly after Pearl Harbor, his relationship with hisfuture wife, and follows him through boot camp at Parris Island, and then to the Pacific with duty at Samoa, New Zealand, Guadalcanal, and finally Bougainville, a campaign that received very little coverage. Most of the flag raisers at Iwo Jimo had been through Bougainville, and were spooked by what they called "the Bougainville Curse", the belief that they would not live through another battle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 26, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456712259

Doan Helms Jr.

At the close of World War II, Doan Helms was awarded the Ernie Pyle Scholarship, went on to graduate with a Bachelor's Degree in Journalism at Indiana University, and had a successful career in advertising. I (Jack Helms) keystroked this story from a hard copy after my father passed away.

Book preview

© 2011 Doan Helms, Jr. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 1/17/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4567-1225-9 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4567-1224-2 (sc)

Library of Congress of Control Number: 2011900296

Printed in the United States of America

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

MARINE CORPS BOOT CAMP

QUANTICO

THE THIRD MARINES

SHIPPING OUT

SAMOA

NEW ZEALAND

NEW CALEDONIA AND NEW HEBRIDES

GUADALCANAL

WE FINALLY GET THE WORD

GOODBYE GUADALCANAL

THE BOUGAINVILLE CAMPAIGN

LEAVING BOUGAINVILLE

BACK IN THE U.S.A.

PHILADELPHIA DUTY

TIME TO GET MARRIED

missing image filemissing image file

In the fall of 1940 the government started a program of teaching men to be machinists. A shop was set up in the basement of the old grade school in Attica, Indiana. Brother Bill and I decided to enroll. The course was paid for by the government, which wanted machinists in war plants. After 90 days we had learned to operate the five basic machine tools — the lathe, milling machine, drilling machine, planer and shaper. I decided to go to Indianapolis and get a job, and marched into Switzer-Cummins Company on Pennsylvania Avenue with my toolbox and my new set of tools. They asked me if I planned to join the union. I said no, so they gave me a broom and $23 a week. After three weeks I joined the union and was assigned to the punch press section, operating an enormous press which shaped the bottleneck on 37 millimeter (mm) brass shell casings. My pay jumped to as high as $70 a week, depending on output. Then I was switched to an automatic turret lathe, cutting profiles on the noses of 75 mm steel projectiles. I felt rich and traded my ‘33 Chevy for a ‘36 black Olds sedan. I had a very nice apartment just off Fall Creek Boulevard in Indianapolis. Every Friday night I headed back to Attica to date Jeanette on weekends.

It was now 1941. The war was getting hotter in Europe. The war plant in Indianapolis I worked in had banners and other items hanging around, a reminder of the war. Sometime during that summer a group of us wandered back into the shipping department and discovered we were making ammunition for Russia. Management hadn’t mentioned that. Crates were stacked everywhere, stamped with Murmansk Russia as a destination. We felt a bit strange about it, but there were no protests.

Suddenly the seriousness of the war situation in Europe struck close to home. My brother Bill was drafted into the Army. He had returned to the farm early in the summer, but had to leave for Army duty in October. I was quite upset to see him go. We had been close, with only the two of us through the years, working on the farm together and often double-dating with our girlfriends. There was little or no friction between us. I realized life was getting serious for thousands of boys entering the service. The National Guard in Attica had already been activated, and several of my friends had gone away on permanent duty.

We stayed very busy at the war plant, turning out thousands of 37 mm casings and 75 mm projectiles. We wondered how many of them had already been assembled somewhere and fired in the huge conflict between Russia and Germany. War news intensified in the newspapers. England had been bombed unmercifully by Germany. U-boats were sinking Allied shipping. German armies were crushing big parts of Europe. Japan had spread its military power in all directions. We young men talked continually about the situation. What would happen to us?

Meanwhile, Jeanette and I had made a major decision. We decided to get married. Being 80 miles apart during the week was not a happy situation. Both of us were concerned that we would lose each other. She was in her senior year at Attica High. We knew her parents would never consent, so we decided to get married secretly. On November 30th we went to Lafayette and got the blood test. On December 6th we drove to Greenfield, Indiana where we heard a justice of peace would be very cooperative. He looked at the blood tests. We had not signed them. He told us he would marry us after we went back to the doctor and signed them in his presence. And he would not budge. We left disappointed and headed the Olds back to Attica.

The next day was December 7th, 1941. We were driving to Lafayette to see a movie. A name band on the radio was suddenly interrupted, and an agitated voice announced that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor. We were puzzled as well as shocked. Where was Pearl Harbor? We soon found out — the news announcements were unending. Washington was in a turmoil. Everyone knew we would soon be in war.

Jeanette and I decided we would go to Lafayette the following Saturday, then drive to Greenfield with the signed documents and get married. I would stay with the war plant, and she would finish her senior year in high school and go to college. I would then get a job in her college town. And we would keep the whole thing a secret until she got into college. Otherwise, her parents might have had the marriage annulled. We wondered how many other young couples were in a similar predicament.

I took Jeanette home and drove back to Indianapolis on Sunday night, December 7th. My head was spinning, and continued spinning the next day at work. What was the right thing to do? We were in war. My brother was already in the Army. Several of my friends were already in uniform. My fellow workers and I talked constantly about the situation. Many began saying they were going to enlist. I began thinking about that. And I began thinking more seriously about Jeanette. Should we really get married secretly, and try to keep it quiet until she went to college? Did we really want that? I began to feel it was not right. Later I found she felt the same way. We were simply drifting into the situation because each thought that was what the other wanted.

By Tuesday I was very agitated. Several of us began to discuss the prospect of enlisting. I began talking about the Marine Corps. My mother’s brother-in-law, Uncle Jimmy, had been in the Marines and talked about it at great length. None of my immediate relatives had been in the military. The Marine Corps began filling my mind. I told my fellow workers that I was going downtown on Wednesday, December 10th to enlist. Seven of them said they would join the Marines with me. Wednesday came and I called in sick, and I drove downtown to the recruiting office. None of the guys were there. I waited outside in the hallway. After a long wait, I decided to go in on my own. The Marines welcomed me with open arms, which I naively thought would mean life in the Corps would be a constant pleasure. But a problem arose. I passed the physical perfectly except for one flaw: my feet were flat. My heart sank. But they were cheerful, and had a solution. Go home, they said, and stay off your feet for two days, and pick up marbles with your toes until you think your feet are going to drop off. Then come back Friday, and your arches will be high enough to pass the physical. And that is what I did. Whether it was a true treatment or not, I never knew. But I passed the test on Friday morning, and drove to the war plant to resign. My seven friends who were going to enlist with me were quite sheepish. My foreman, a big, tough Swede who had been in World War I, shook my hand and wished me all the luck in the world.