Courage, Compassion, Marine: The Unique Story of Jimmie Dyess

By Perry Smith

The heroism of Marine Lieutenant Colonel Jimmie Dyess is a story for the ages. I highly recommend this book to young people looking for a positive role model, for veterans of all the military services and for those who love history.

Sergeant First Class Sammy Davis, Medal of Honor recipient

The story of Jimmie Dyess is both remarkable and unique. He earned the Carnegie Medal for extraordinary civilian heroism when he was a teenager. Sixteen years later, he received the Medal of Honor as a result of his heroism in combat. No other individual has received both awards. This book not only tells the Dyess story, it examines the dimensions of heroism.

Walter Rutkowski President, Carnegie Hero Fund Commission.

The pattern of the life of Jimmie Dyess was remarkable: an Eagle Scout, a recipient of the Carnegie Medal and the Medal of Honor. Herein you will meet a man of valor and benevolence with a fundamental commitment to service above self.

Medal of Honor recipient, Hal Fritz, President, Congressional Medal of Honor Society

For his extraordinary bravery in the rescue of a drowning woman, Clemson undergraduate Jimmie Dyess received Americas top civilian award for heroism, the Carnegie Medal. Sixteen years later, Marine Lieutenant Colonel Dyess led his battalion into combat. He went behind enemy lines to save four wounded Marines. The next day, Dyess was shot and killed. For his exemplary valor and leadership in combat, he received the Medal of Honor. May Jimmie Dyesss life of service and self-sacrifice be an inspiration to all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: May 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781491766927

Perry Smith

Perry Smith is an aspiring jazz musician and teacher of spiritual truth. He enjoys family and friends, record collecting, vintage motorcycles, Boston sports, swimming, fishing and the great outdoors. He resides in New Hampshire with his wife and two children.

Book preview

COURAGE,

COMPASSION,

MARINE:

THE UNIQUE

STORY OF

JIMMIE DYESS

PERRY SMITH

44576.png

COURAGE, COMPASSION, MARINE:

THE UNIQUE STORY OF JIMMIE DYESS

Copyright © 2015 Perry Smith.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-6691-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-6692-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015906675

iUniverse rev. date:   07/13/2015

CONTENTS

Foreword

Prologue

Introduction

Chapter 1     The Early Years:1909-1927

Chapter 2     Clemson 1927-1931

Chapter 3     Earning The Carnegie Medal: 1928

Chapter 4     The Depression Years In Augusta: 1931-1940

Chapter 5     The Marine Corps Prior To World War II

Chapter 6     Two Years Of Frustration

Chapter 7     The Marines Of World War II

Chapter 8     The 1st Battalion, 24th Marines

Chapter 9     On To The Marshalls

Chapter 10     War In The Pacific

Chapter 11     The Battle For Roi Namur

Chapter 12     The Aftermath

Chapter 13     The Medal Of Honor In Perspective

Chapter 14     Anatomy Of Courage

Chapter 15     Comparing The Two Awards For Heroism

Chapter 16     Events Saluting The Heroism Of Dyess

Appendix 1

Appendix 2

Appendix 3

Appendix 4

About The Author

FOREWORD

I am honored to introduce you to this very special book about a very unique American hero. There is almost 100 years of the Marine Corps in my immediate family, and, as a Marine, I have long been familiar with the story of Lieutenant Colonel A. J. (Jimmie) Dyess, USMCR. However, it was only when I became the Commander of Marine Forces Reserve in 1995 that I gained a full understanding of this extraordinary man. To honor him and his place in Marine Corps history, the Commandant approved my request in 1996 to name the Kansas City headquarters of the 24th Marine Regiment for Lieutenant Colonel Dyess.

The book you are about to read is, first and foremost, the biography of a genuine American hero. But, It also opens a window on the history and traditions surrounding the two iconic awards he earned–the Medal of Honor and the Carnegie Medal. These awards represent the highest honors our nation can bestow for heroism at the risk of one’s life in war and in peace.

In these pages you will meet Marines from the Greatest Generation - the young men who endured the trials of the Great Depression and who volunteered to serve their country at its time of greatest need. You will also discover how America continued to honor Jimmie Dyess through the record in peace and war of the Navy destroyer bearing his name (USS Dyess, DD880).

Nations, societies, institutions and communities can be judged, in large part, by how they recognize their heroes. In this regard, our nation, our Marine Corps, the Carnegie Hero Fund Commission, Clemson University, the Boy Scouts, the Congressional Medal of Honor Society, the Augusta Museum of History, and the city of Augusta -—all stand tall. Each of these institutions has made a special effort to preserve and enhance the legacy of Lieutenant Colonel Dyess.

I ask that you let your friends know about this book and the Twice a Hero DVD which visually tells the Dyess story. And, I encourage you put on your bucket list a trip to Augusta, Georgia on the second Thursday in January. On that date each year, people from across the Nation gather for the annual Jimmie Dyess Symposium honoring those who have made significant contributions to our Nation in peace and in war.

With that, dear reader, prepare to be inspired and uplifted by this amazing story.

Major General Thomas L. Wilkerson, US Marine Corps (retired)

Past President & CEO, US Naval Institute

Past President and CEO, Congressional Medal of Honor Foundation.

PROLOGUE

He was a man of the deep South yet he was proudly and unambiguously American. Open faced and open hearted, he gave those around him a sense of comfort and well-being. Whenever he was involved in any activity, others wanted to join in. If he was doing it, whatever it was, it must be something worthwhile or fun or uplifting or adventurous. People, even those who had known him for a short time, just knew that if they were with him they would be safe and well taken care of. Even as a young man he exuded that sense of quiet competence and confidence which spoke volumes about his maturity and sense of purpose.

The red hair was very much a part of his persona. It was more auburn than red; it was not curly but had a natural wave. The hair was so rich and so full and he stood so tall and so straight that he could be spotted at a great distance—long before the others in his entourage would be recognized. People would see him and move naturally towards him. They clearly enjoyed his company and he, theirs.

He had fine individual skills, especially as a world-class marksman, yet he was fundamentally a team person and a team player. He loved sports and played them with great energy. Not a great athlete by any means, he thrived in sports through sheer determination, the willingness to work very hard in practice, an ability to ignore pain and a total commitment to his team. He had a keen sense for what was right and what was wrong. People knew where he stood on issues–he left no doubt. He was, in a real sense, larger than life. He lived his life to the fullest and, like young Theodore Roosevelt, was a man of action who was impossible to ignore.

His love for things military dated back to when he was eight years old. A great mass of soldiers had assembled in the Augusta area for training in 1917 as they got ready for combat in World War I. His family would invite young soldiers from the nearby camp to come by for Sunday dinner. Jimmie would listen intently as these soldiers described their training and their commitment to saving democracy by joining the Allies and defeating the Germans.

From age fourteen, until he was killed twenty one-years later, he wore a military uniform: first at his military high school, then as a member of the cadet corps at Clemson College, next as an Army reservist, then as a Marine Corps reservist and finally when we was on active duty with the United States Marine Corps. He wore each uniform with pride, for it represented to him service above self, discipline, honor, tradition and esprit de corps.

There are very few who have the instinctive ability to motivate and inspire people to do their very best to achieve a worthy goal, despite the obstacles, dangers, pain or exhaustion. Some would call it innate leadership; others might label it charisma, charm, personality or magnetism. Whatever it was, he had it in spades. He was an enthusiastic Boy Scout and worked diligently to obtain the rank of Eagle Scout. He was clearly a leader by the time he graduated from The Academy of Richmond County in Augusta at age eighteen–many felt that his leadership skills were well developed at even an earlier age. He perfected these skills through the years so that when he led eight hundred men into combat, he was the epitome of a combat leader.

His name was Jimmie Dyess. His homes were North Augusta, South Carolina, Augusta, Georgia, Clemson College and the United States Marine Corps. This is his story.

INTRODUCTION

Writing biography is an inherently incomplete task, since no one can fully grasp the actions, motivations, influences and circumstances of another person’s life. It is particularly difficult to capture the mind and motivations of a bona fide hero whose pattern of behavior was marked by extraordinary altruism, valor and self-sacrifice.

After more than ten years of research and writing, these realities have become very clear to me. Writing biography is very different from writing other non-fiction books–and a much, much more difficult task. Yet this story cries out to be told.

The main setting for the Jimmie Dyess story is World War II and the events that led up to the first, and hopefully the last, truly global war. As far as grasping the full context of this war, I am quite fortunate. Although I never had the privilege of knowing Lieutenant Colonel Aquilla James Dyess, United States Marine Corps Reserve, the World War II period has been a very important part of my life.

I dealt with World War II on three separate and distinct occasions in my life. My first experience, in December 1941, was a dramatic one. I was living with my family in Honolulu, Hawaii. My father was then an Army officer-a major, on active duty, in the Coast Artillery Corps. In the summer of 1940, after graduating from the Army Command and General Staff College at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, he had been assigned to Hawaii. From June 1940 until December 1941, the Perry Smith family had enjoyed an idyllic eighteen months in the beautiful, quiet and under-populated Hawaiian Islands. There were then just three hotels on Waikiki Beach; about once a month there was a surge of tourists. This would occur when an ocean liner would sail, with great fanfare, into Pearl Harbor.

Suddenly and dramatically, on an early Sunday morning in December, my world changed. I was half way through the second grade and nine days short of my 7th birthday. Every Sunday morning my older sister, George Anne, who was eight years old, and I were picked up from our home in Honolulu. We were taken by Army truck to Sunday School at a nearby military post. Sitting on benches in the rear of the large truck, we looked out the back as other Army brats climbed aboard along the way. In those days before air conditioning, people in Hawaii went to work (and to church on Sunday) quite early. My sister and I were in transit from about 7:15 to 7:55 AM each Sunday. Just before we reached Fort Derussy on December 7, 1941, the Japanese commenced their surprise attack on Pearl Harbor, Hickam Field and a number of other vital military targets.

An Army captain who met us at the main gate made a foolish decision. Rather than herding all of the children into a basement until the attack was over, the captain ordered the driver to turn his truck around and to take us home immediately. It was a wild ride that morning as the truck careened along the same roads we had traveled on so serenely and innocently just a few minutes earlier. I was very frightened but my sister, George Anne, comforted me on the trip home. Since George Anne and I had been among the first to be picked up, we were among the last to be delivered back to our home. Fortunately, no Japanese fighter pilot elected to roll in that truck full of small children. We all made it safely back to our homes.

After being evacuated to the mainland in February, 1942, my mother, grandmother, sister and I travelled by train to my great uncle’s home in the cold climes of Northern Minnesota. In the late spring of 1942, I was asked to give a short talk about my experiences on that fateful December morning.

Hence, I gave my first public speech at age seven to my second grade class in St. Cloud, Minnesota. In a way, my sister and I were mini-celebrities, since we had not only been in Hawaii when the attack took place, but had also witnessed a part of it up close and first hand.

My mother, grandmother, sister and I followed my father from assignment to assignment during the remainder of the war. From 1942 through 1945, I gave speeches to cub scout dens, Sunday School classes and elementary school classes in Zanesville, Ohio; Wilmington, North Carolina; and Richmond, Virginia. My memories of those early days of World War II remain quite vivid, perhaps because I told my story so many times to so many audiences.

My second encounter with World War II took place in the mid 1960s. As a military scholar pursuing a Ph.D. at Columbia University, I spent a year researching and writing a book about military planning during that war. Much of my research was accomplished in Washington, D.C., and at Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama. Going through the dusty War Department files (from 1941 to 1945) renewed my interest in the events of World War II.

My third encounter with World War II was a very long one. I returned intellectually once again to the period of the early 1940s to research and to write this biography. For twelve years I studied the life and death of Lieutenant Colonel Dyess–the man who was Jimmie to most of his family and friends and Big Red or Red Dyess to his fellow Marines. I decided to write the biography of Jimmie Dyess, the father-in-law I never met, after four events took place.

In 1986, at the invitation of the U. S. Army, my wife, Connor, and I flew seven thousand miles from Washington, D. C. to the island of Roi Namur in the Marshall Islands. Connor had been asked to help dedicate Roi Namur as a national historic landmark and to honor the Marines who had participated in the 1944 battle for these islands.

Through waist-high jungle, Connor and I walked the battlefield of Roi Namur from Green Beach, where Dyess and his battalion had landed, to the place on the far side of the island where he was killed. The battlefield, which happily had never been ransacked by tourists, had been kept in wonderful order by a retired Marine who worked on the island. Although we gained an excellent understanding of the battle for Roi Namur, we still didn’t fully understand the role that Jimmie Dyess had played in that battle. The citation for his award of the Medal of Honor was very general and the specifics of his heroism in combat remained a mystery to us more than forty years after he was killed. The citation follows:

For conspicuous Gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty as Commanding Officer of the First Battalion, Twenty-fourth Marines, Reinforced, Fourth Marine Division, in action against enemy Japanese weapons, Lieutenant Colonel Dyess launched a powerful final attack on the second day of the assault, unhesitatingly posting himself between the opposing lines to point out objectives and avenues of approach and personally leading the advancing troops. Alert, and determined to quicken the pace of the offensive against increased enemy fire, he was constantly at the head of advance units, inspiring his men to push forward until the Japanese had been driven back to a small center of resistance and victory assured. While standing on the parapet of an anti-tank trench directing a group of infantry in a flanking attack against the last enemy position, Lieutenant Colonel Dyess was killed by a burst of enemy machine-gunfire. His daring and forceful leadership and his valiant fighting spirit in the face of terrific opposition were in keeping with the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service. He gallantly gave his life for his country.

The October, 1986 dedication of the Roi Namur battlefield was described in a number of publications, including the newsletter of The 4th Marine Division Association, World War II. The fact that Connor Dyess Smith, the daughter of one of the four Marines who had earned the Medal of Honor during that battle, had participated in the dedication ceremonies was highlighted in all of these articles.

This led to a magic day in February, 1988, when Connor received a letter from Frank Pokrop of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Pokrop had served with Lieutenant Colonel Dyess both at Camp Pendleton in California and in the Marshall Islands. That letter changed our lives. This is what Pokrop wrote:

Dear Mrs. Smith:

The last newsletter of the 4th Marine Division Association WWII carried the story of the dedication of the RoiNamur battlefield, and your part in that ceremony.

Although I was not in your father’s battalion he has been very close to me for a number of reasons. I thought you might like to know.

As a 17 year old Marine I was assigned to Camp Pendleton to prepare for the formation of the new 4th Marine Division. We were told to make ready for our first major inspection and thus worked for hours to clean and shine everything. Early Saturday morning we were called to attention and this large, very military looking Colonel, approached the doorway to the Company room. He stopped at the entrance, put on a pair of white gloves, and reached up above the framework of the door running his fingers over that framework. He then looked at the gloves to see if there was any dirt on them. Seeing none he proceeded into the room to do the same to walls, bunks, bedsprings, and anything else in the room. That was my introduction to Colonel Dyess. Not being in his battalion I saw very little of him, except at a distance, during the remainder of our training in California.

Enclosed is a copy of the map we were given prior to the assault upon Namur. Without going into great detail, about halfway through the island I was ordered to take a patrol and scout ahead. The 6 of us reached the x points shown on the map. Unbeknown to us the rest of the troops were ordered to reform and hold at Sycamore Blvd. We had walked through the Japanese lines and were faced by the ocean at our front, a number of heavy machine guns on our left, and Japanese behind us and on our right. One man had been killed and four others wounded as we were exposed to close fire from three sides.

With no protection and heavy fire coming at us from a few feet away and dusk approaching we were certain to be killed. All of a sudden Colonel Dyess broke through on the right, braving the very heavy fire, and got all of us out of there. We were placed in the huge hole left by the enormous blockhouse explosion while Colonel Dyess fought off the continued Japanese fire.

The next morning Colonel Dyess was killed while leading his men up the parapet that held the enemy machine gun nests. As you may see, Colonel Dyess has never been out of my thoughts for these 43 years and he will always be there until I die. In the terminology of those days he had guts. In 1985, after the Return to Iwo I had finally received permission to visit Namur. I spent 5 hours, all alone, just walking through the areas I had walked through, or run, during the battle. I did not need a map as it was as though it was yesterday. I spent 2 hours in the few yards circled on the map just thinking about the men and the time. It was a deeply moving