World War II

Today marks the anniversary of the German defeat of British paratroopers at the Battle of Arnhem in the Netherlands, part of Operation Market Garden. This is actually a battle with which many people are familiar though they may not realize it. Cornelius Ryan wrote an excellent book on the subject entitled, A Bridge Too Far, that was subsequently made into a film with an all-star cast.

The plan was bold and daring, send in thousands of paratroopers behind enemy lines to secure the main bridges across the rivers into Holland to make a path for the advancing Allied Armies to turn into the lowlands of Germany avoiding the defenses of the Siegfried Line. Had it worked, the war would have been over by Christmas 1944. Sadly, Arnhem was that “bridge too far.”

I’m going to let the above link to the book (a non-affiliate Amazon link) as one of our five for the day because there are some seventy reader reviews of the book that I thoroughly enjoyed going through. It’s an excellent cross section of the ideas of “every day” historians, people who delve deeply into a subject for the pure joy of it. (And some of them do a pretty darn good job of summarizing the battle action.)

- A Bridge Too Far: This is the Internet Movie Database entry for the film. If you haven’t seen the movie and you’re looking for a war film to rent, go for it. I’ve seen it many times and get sucked into watching it again every time I run across it while channel surfing.

- RememberSeptember1944.com - An exhaustive treatment of Operation Market Garden that is also a tribute to the men who participated in the mission.

- Results of a flickr search for the phrase “Operation Market Garden.”

- Results of a YouTube search for the phrase “Operation Market Garden.” (I watched several of these videos and couldn’t single one out.)

WWII, Operation Market Garden, Arnheim

Once upon a time there was a German historian named von Ranke who counseled his students that history must be written, “wie es eigentlich gewesen.” Rough translation - how it actually happened. There’s just one problem with that bit of 19th century advice. It can’t be done.

With all the discussion about the “rightness” or “wrongness” of what Ken Burns has put together in his documentary, “The War,” I feel that a little commentary on historiography is warranted. Short definition is that historiography is the study of the study of history. Trust me. Double-barreled snore and I have the graduate credits to prove it.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s a necessary part of becoming a so-called professional historian. You need to come to terms with the idea that history has been interpreted in different ways for different purposes — twisted for political agendas (think Nazi Germany), cleaned up to bolster a new nation (think Parson Weems, George Washington, and silly stories about cherry trees), or filtered to justify personal actions (see any political autobiography written in the past 50 years.)

I’ve always held that some sense of the Heisenberg principle — albeit somewhat garbled by the social sciences — is a better place for an historian to start. You know the old saw: the very act of observing a phenomenon changes that phenomenon. If it makes you feel better, go with Immaneul Kant. Everything we can know is based on our experiences. (Also a gross over-simplification, but good enough for government work.)

There is absolutely no way the historian can separate his individual identity, understanding, emotions, prejudices, or limitations from the history he writes, films, or records. Period. There is no way to write history as it was. Even if we were to develop a time machine and send the historian backwards to observe the events, his 21st century eyes would not be able to keep him from judging the tight morals of the Victorian world. And just for the record, Ken Burns isn’t an historian. He’s a director.

Invariably when the subject of film or documentary as history comes up, someone gets around to citing Oliver Stone’s 1991 film “JFK.” Do I want a generation of Americans to think that’s the real story of the Kennedy assassination? Lord no! But can I see that the film itself is an historical document and the willingness of many to accept it as fact is a reflection of the society into which it was introduced? Yes. Do I think the film is “dangerous.” No. There’s too much other material pro and anti-conspiracy theory available on the subject, just as there is more than enough material available on the Second World War to make for a lifetime of study.

My mother reads “historical” novels. Any book with half-naked people in a clinch on the cover and text that includes phrases like “velvet throbbing” isn’t history. It is, however, to those who enjoy such, entertaining. Burns’ work is several notches about that kind of fiction and a notch or two below the elusive definitive history. In the long run it will be judged as an historical document of its time, a look at World War II produced against the backdrop of a hotly debated war in the Middle East and a sharp clash of neo-conservatives and liberals in American society. In the short-term, it’s also entertaining and much better done than the “throw the baby out with the bath water” critics are willing to admit.

WWII, Ken Burns, The War, historiography

Without question Ken Burns has returned World War II to the headlines for the duration of his seven-part PBS series “The War.” I’ve tried to gather a cross-section of reactions across the Internet for your consideration. Please feel free to provide others via comments.

Ken Burns’ The War as Seen Through Teen Eyes - This article from the Christian Science Monitor includes the reactions of four teenagers to watching the first episode of the series.

Old Soldiers Never Lie - An article by Beverly Gage for The Slate subtitled, “Ken Burns’ The War Tells Great Stories, But Is It Great History?” This is a hotly debated point about the series and Gage takes a reasonably well-balanced approach to the controvery with good commentary on Burns’ abilities as a cinematographic story teller.

PBS Conflicted Over Adult Language in Ken Burns - This is an older article from back in August and since I more or less swore when I read it, you don’t have to guess what I think about attempts at white-washing. People cuss. Men at war cuss alot. Period.

Ken Burns’ The War: SNAFU from Episode One - A not so flattering look at what many regard as Burns’ myopic take on a massive subject. (I’ve run across this viewpoint a great deal.)

These links just touch the tip of the iceberg of the debate about the quality of what Burns has done in this documentary. I continue to say the work must be taken on its own merit and does not purport to be an exhaustive treatment of the subject. But since there are four more installments to go, I suspect we’ll be visiting this topic again.

WWII, Ken Burns, The War

As Ken Burns’ series “The War” enters its third installment this evening, criticism of the director’s take on World War II continues to come thick and fast both online and off.

Initially controversy swirled around Burns’ failure to include adequate material on minorities who served in the conflict and aided in the war effort. Burns added material to his documentary, but not enough to satisfy his detractors.

Now many are landing on the fact that his treatment of the “the war” is too Americanized, neglecting the crucial role of the Soviet Union in bearing the brunt of the fighting prior to the Normandy invasion in 1944 and the fact that the civilian population of Europe endured hardship and suffering unknown in the United States.

Neither of these points is up for argument in my book. In fact the other two members of the Big Three, Franklin D. Roosevelt and Winston Churchill were quite content to let Stalin and the Soviets serve as cannon fodder. Whole books have been written on the subject.

There is no question that the European citizenry suffered. The fire bombing of Dresden, the starving populace of Stalingrad, the bombed Britons of the Blitz, and the victims of the Holocaust all serve testament to that fact.

In my opinion Burns’ greatest crime is not his treatment of the subject but his choice of a title. He is obviously not attempting to provide an encyclopedia treatment of World War II. I’ve sat through semesters of military history that could not achieve that vast goal. Burns is telling America’s story — really the microcosmic tale of four American communities. It is an experience of war vastly different from that of the Europeans, but one no less valid and no less emotionally charged.

Ken Burns can’t remake his documentary to satisfy all his critics. It is what it is and should be judged on its own merit within the limited scope the narrative attempts to convey. There’s a lot more to come. Let’s let the man tell his story before we declare he’s told it wrong. After all, the accuracy of the story lies both in the voice of the speaker and the ear of the listener. Is it fair to judge Burns for what we expected his story to be or for what it really is?

[tags]WWII, The War, Ken Burns

I’m not sure I can take 15 hours of the new Ken Burns series “The War.” Since my father’s death in 1996 war films and documentaries are hard for me. Generally it takes nothing more than the sight of a man in an Eisenhower uniform to put a lump in my throat. Last night I did fine until Bing Crosby started singing “White Christmas” and then hot tears rolled down my face. The images of grubby G.I.s huddled around record players and radios flashing on the screen were more than I could take. I didn’t fight in World War II, but it is intensely personal for me and Ken Burns has produced an intensely personal documentary. I’m not sure he’d know how to do anything else.

Interweaving images of the homefront and of the battlefield, the first installment of the documentary narrates a straightforward history of the progression of world events from the 1939 invasion of Poland to the bloody American victory on Guadalcanal in 1943. I knew three men who fought on Guadalcanal. One left a leg there and the second suffered from painful jungle rot on his feet for the remainder of his life. The third knocked back a shot glass of whiskey before he told me about his best friend who collected the ears of the Japanese soldiers he killed. The guy was finally sent home on a Section 8 when he beheaded a Japanese major with plans to make a lamp from the skull.

World War II wasn’t pretty and Ken Burns doesn’t make it pretty. You’ll hear things you don’t want to hear. You’ll see things you don’t want to see. During the segment on the Battling Bastards of Bataan (No Mama, no Papa, no Uncle Sam) a slow anger welled up in my chest. You see I knew a man who survived the Death March too. He was never “quite right,” drank too much, kept to himself, and slowly went blind. He almost starved to death and his eyes were damaged beyond saving. People in town said he was dangerous but damaged is the word, damaged beyond saving.

A Bataan survivor spoke of the beatings, the beheadings — at night the Japanese soldier would stick their bayonets out the window of trucks at just the right level to catch men in the throat. He described the way those same trucks swerved to run over men lying in the road — some already dead, some not. In another segment a grayed soldier described listening through a long night as the captured members of his patrol were tortured. The next day the Japanese soldiers who did the deed were captured. The commander asked who had lost friends the night before. Those were the men who got to shoot the prisoners. Very calmly the old man said some would say it didn’t happen, but it did.

While we the second generation may speak of forgiving and healing the wounds of the confict, we have no right to criticize any veteran for the feelings he still carries. You’ll understand that when you watch, “The War.” (For more of my thoughts on this subject, I invite you to read an archived entry on my personal blog, “The Local Nazi.”)

You’re not going to get a John Wayne version of the conflict in what Ken Burns has produced, and he’s been criticized for not portraying the totality of the experience for the nation in an ethnic sense. That may be true, but he’s still made something significant, something difficult, and something important. I may not be able to watch all of it, but I’m going to watch what I can and I highly recommend you do the same.

WWII, Ken Burns, The War

Today’s Friday Five topic is kind of personal for me because it’s related to my Dad. On this day, in 1942, the B-29 Superfortress flew for the first time. Papa trained in A-20s, flew B-25s in combat, and spent a lot of time in B-24s and B-29s stateside in the ferry command. He loved the B-29 because it was big, powerful, and a challenge to handle.

- The Wikipedia entry on the B-29 Superfortress.
- Boeing’s history of the B-29
- Lake Mead’s B-29 (Fascinating story of locating a missing plane in deep water.)
- Results of a flickr search for B-29
- B-29 Superfortress on YouTube

WWII, B-29, Superfortress

I was born in a small town in West Texas where societal lines were sharply divided between Caucasians and Latin Americans. It’s an issue that still plagues many Texas towns, especially in these days of debate over immigration issues and border security.

Sadly that has caused the patriotic contribution of Latinos and Latinas in the war effort before and during World War II to be overshadowed and at times forgotten. A University of Texas Professor, Dr. Maggie Rivas Rodriguez, is working to correct that with the US Latino and Latina World War II Oral History Project. (She is also the author of A Legacy Greater than Words and Mexican Americans and World War II.)

Although the last batch of narratives posted on the site is from 2004, there is still an active contact address for information and suggestions. Note that the narratives are in PDF format, so depending on your system you may be asked to download the material, which will then open in your Adobe Reader or it may simply open in your browser. I spent a fascinating hour this morning going through accounts of life in the service and on the home front. This is an excellent repository of information and one I hope will grow in the future.

Click here for information on contributing to the project.

WWII, US Latino and Latina World War II Oral History Project, Maggie Rivas Rodriguez

The oldest survivor of the sinking of the USS Indianapolis, Tom Goff, passed away Monday, Sept. 17 at age 100. Goff succumbed to complications from a stroke the previous week.

A native of Glenville, West Virginia, Goff was the fourth child in a farming family of ten. In 1943 he was 36 years old — too old to be drafted — but Goff enlisted and went to war anyway. Twice the age of the men with whom he served on the Indianapolis, Goff was nicknamed “Pappy.”

After surviving the July 30, 1945 sinking of his ship and the subsequent five days in the open seas, Goff came home and settled in Ohio with his third wife.

The chairman of the USS Indianapolis Survivors Organization, Giles McCoy, 82, said, “Everytime we had a reunion, we would introduce Tom as our oldest survivor, and he would stand up there and not know what to say. He was a good man. The kind of man you and I would like to sit and talk with.”

One of his daughters, Bobbie Swinehart said, “Everybody felt he was definitely a hero with what he’d been through. He felt he did his job; that was what he was supposed to do.”

WWII, Tom Goff, USS Indianapolis

Good Monday morning everyone! We have a nice little collection of “left overs” to start the week. (The two stories about the impact of the war on California would appear to be good companions to the upcoming Ken Burns series on the war.)

- World War II Ace Rarely Spoke of Heroic Acts from the Courier-Post Online: A touching story of what a brother and sister learned about their father, a retired one-star Air Force general, after his death.

- The Lasting Impact of World War II on California from News Blaze: Announcement of a documentary produced by KCET Los Angles to air in conjunction with Ken Burns “The War.”

- For a related piece on the impact of the war on California, see “World War II Created Industrial, Cultural Revolution in Bay Area” from the San Francisco Chronicle

- Medals Given to World War II Veterans from Newsday.com: More than 60 years after the deeds for which they were recognized, two veterans received long overdue recognition on September 14.

- Former Crew Bids Farewell to Its World War II Captain from the Quincy Herald-Whig: I find these stories of comrades bidding one another farewell incredibly moving. This is the account of men who served under Capt. William G. Grote on the USS Tinsman during World War II attending their commander’s funeral.

Note: Just a quick word of thanks to the World War II Talk readers. We made the 451 Press “Top 20 Growth for the Month of August” list! Many thanks to all of you for visiting and reading. - Rana

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On this day in 1944, U.S. Marines landed on the island of Peleliu, one of the islands of the nation of Palau in the Western Pacific. They were there to capture an airstrip, and like most of the fighting in the South Pacific, the battle, which lasted into November, was bloody. By the end of the engagement 2,336 Americans were killed and 8,450 wounded with 10,695 Japanese soldier killed and only 202 captured.

- Wikipedia entry on the Battle of Peleliu
- Official website of the Republic of Palau
- Results of a flickr search for “Peleliu”
- Official website of the USS Peleliu
- A Tribute to Michael A. Lazaro and All Other Peleliu Veterans

Sometimes I get in sort of a mood about the war. In my house when you said “the war” you meant World War II, unless you were at a family reunion where the phrase could possibly still refer to the Civil War depending upon to whom you were speaking. (It’s a Southern thing.)

I confess I get cranky . . . no . . . I get angry when it seems that veterans and the war as a whole are being forgotten. Sure, I know we’re 66 years out from Pearl Harbor and young people today just look at the war as another question they need to get right to get the hell out of history class. I taught history after all and the indifference of 90 percent of my students to our collective past saddened, tortured, and infuriated me in equal measure back in the day.

But sometimes the neglect can get even more personal than that. I still maintain close ties to the little town in West Texas where I was born. My mother lives there as do many old friends. Several years ago the publisher of the local newspaper, the daughter of the former editor and publisher, himself a WWII vet, wrote a Veteran’s Day article about the town’s servicemen. The thing stretched on column after column and referred to many men both living and dead. It did not refer to my father. You see, the current editor and I have a personal feud. To get to me she ignored and insulted my father’s World War II service and left him out of the piece.

I won’t go into what followed. Suffice it to say I’d be hard put to walk across the street to spit on the woman if she were on fire. Since then, however, I’ve been even more sensitive to the feelings of living veterans who feel they’re forgotten. So this morning when I read this beautiful tribute to Seattle area veteran Al Weddle written by Robert L. Jamieson, Jr. for seattlepi.com, I cried. Yeah, I know, I cry alot about things related to the war. But what struck me most was the guy-to-guy tenderness of the piece. There are few things more touching than the respect of a young man for an old man. And I suspect there are few things old men enjoy more, even if they would never admit it.

At my own father’s funeral I was doing pretty well, holding it in and sucking it up to deliver the eulogy. Then I looked at the back of the church and saw two young men who worked for my Dad sitting erect, trying and failing to keep the tears from rolling down their cheeks. It is one of my most vivid images of that day. Those boys gave me a gift, although they didn’t realize it, in the love and respect they silently expressed for my Dad. And Jamieson’s piece is a gift to Weddle’s family and to World War II vets everywhere because it says, “I remember. I remember you and I remember your stories.” Bravo!

WWII, vets, Al Weddle, Paul Jamieson

The Montpelier Argus taught me some World War II history on Monday with this article about the 10th Mountain Division, a unit about which I’d never heard.

The division was activated in July 1953 and was the result of collaborative efforts among the War Department, the American Alpine Club, and the National Ski Patrol Committee of the National Ski Association. The soldiers fought initially in Italy, arriving in December 1944, where they cleared mountain passes and seized Nazi held peaks. After the war they served as security forces and assisted with the occupation.

As a highly specialized unit involved in climbing, skiing, and parachute landings, the 10th Mountain Division was a forerunner of the elite special forces that are now a critical part of the U.S. military.

The article provides more detail on the unit, which has been memorialized in the documentary “The Last Ridge.” Although deactivated after WWII, the 10th Mountain Division (Light Infantry) was reactivated in 1985 and today its members are serving in Afghanistan.

WWII, 10th Mountain Division, special forces

From the day it happened to this sixth anniversary I think about how angry my father would have been about the attacks on September 11, 2001. People of his age (he would have been 87 this coming March) talk about where they were the day Pearl Harbor was bombed. Papa always said that’s when he decided to enlist rather than wait to be drafted. He wanted to be a pilot, a job at first denied to him because he lacked a college education. “All those college boys got killed off pretty quick,” he’d say. “That’s when they created the rank of staff sergeant pilot and turned the rest of us loose.”

After Pearl Harbor our nation knew on whom it was to be turned loose. Hitler, Mussolini, Tojo — all identifiable enemies representative of a dangerous totalistarianism threatening to sweep the globe. The trapped men inside the USS Arizona had to be avenged. And there are other images, images that make tears run down my face as I write. The gallant Poles who went out to meet the Nazi Panzer divisions on horseback armed with pikes, the British soldiers who kept fighting even as they were backed into the sea at Dunkirk, the British citizens who went to get them in anything that would float and then endured the long months of the Blitz, the Resistance fighters all over Europe, the victims of the Holocaust, the boys who died in the surf on Omaha Beach, and in the sea the day the USS Indianapolis went down. There’s a reason we say World War II was the last good war.

On this morning six years ago as I watched the Trade Center Towers collapse live on television I knew I was watching the Pearl Harbor of my generation. I won’t profane this day with talk about the “rightness” of our current war. Although I was born late in my parents’ lives, in 1962, I am a child of World War II. I stand when the flag passes, my eyes fill with tears during the National Anthem, and I openly cry when I hear a bugle blow Taps. And each September 11, I put a small pin on my collar, the World Trade Center Towers wrapped in a black ribbon and covered by the American flag.

My father was a citizen soldier and six years ago men, women, and children who never had the choice to enlist as he did died in the opening battle of a new conflict, one that perhaps we do not yet fully understand and one whose end we cannot yet place in our sights. There were towering acts of heroism that September day. Think today about the firemen and police officers who never hesitated to go into those buildings. Think about the first responders who never hesisted in their determination to reach that smoking pile of rubble to try to help. Think about the soldiers who died at the Pentagon with no opportunity to defend themselves. And think about the passengers on that plane who knew they were going to die and chose to do it on their feet, fighting.

I am not wise enough to answer cosmic questions about the afterlife, but I believe there is a special quiet, a special peace for the people who died this day. There was a song written in 1942 called “There’s a Star-Spangled Banner Waving Somewhere,” which said “only Uncle Sam’s great heroes get to go there.” In the company of heroes may the dead of 9/11 feel our pride and our sorrow on this day.

WWII, 9/11, Pearl Harbor

Last week was an incredibly busy one both for me personally and for World War II related stories. I do want to pluck one story out of the Monday Roundup list to feature, “Group Campaigns for Stamp Honoring World War II Nisei Veterans” from ksby.com in California. The role of these American-born Japanese-Americans in the fighting is one that has not yet been fully recognized and honored and supporting a memorial stamp is but a small step in the right direction. (Click here for the Wiki article on Nisei Japanese American.)

Other stand-outs from the RSS reader that did not find their way into posts here include:

- Letter: Heroic World War II Veterans Are Fading from the Journal Gazettte Times-Courier.
- WWII Show Rekindles Some Sad Memories from the Tucson Citizen.
- 15 Vets Take Final Cruise from the Chicago Tribune.
- Hong Kong Detonates Massive World War II Bomb from Reuters
- Local Volunteers Help Preserve World War II Bomber from The Canadian Jewish News

WWII, Nisei, news stories

Just a quick and somewhat overdue post to round out the week (in the last few hours of same.) The Chicago Tribune carried a wonderful piece today entitled, “War Brides Recall Their Bittersweet Journeys.”

The story is about a gathering of more than a hundred foreign spouses of World War II soldiers in Chicago, all members of the World War II War Brides Association. I knew two war brides in my growing up years, both French women.

One was a silly little thing with a thick accent who managed to be rather adorable in a scatter-brained way. The other was the essence of elegance with lilting cultured tones to her speech. I’m sure neither ever expected to live out her life in a small West Texas ranching community.

One held herself rather apart, the other immersed herself in the life of the town. Just recently I saw a photograph of C. and her husband sitting in lawn chairs watching the annual rodeo parade. Although I’m sure she must be nearing 80, she looked as cultured and graceful as I remember her.

Many women like them have shared their stories on the homepage of the War Brides Association. Be forewarned. They make for compelling reading and you can’t stop at one. (The site is actively seeking additional personal accounts to record this very special legacy of World War II.)

WWII, World War II War Brides Association