Nightmare on Iwo Jima: A Marine in Combat

16. Peace

Chapte r 16 Peace T: he homebound hospital ship arrived in San Francisco on May 16, 1945. The sight of the Golden Gate Bridge was a glorious experience. I had seen it before, but never before did it take my breath away. After a few days of processing at a hospital, the wounded were transported to a train that would drop us off at locations of hospitals closer to our homes. The train was filled exclusively with wounded servicemen . We had medical care second to none. I arrived at my home in Jersey City with orders to report to St. Albans Navy Hospital in Long Island, New York. I had phoned my parents from San Francisco, and again from Chicago, where the train had stopped to change engines and crew. As I entered my house, the scene was as expected-one of joy mixed with tears. The joy came to an end the next morning, however, when my mother informed me that the Army Air Force had notified her and my father that my brother's status of "missing in action" had been changed to "killed in action." On August 14, 1945, I was on limited duty stationed at the Marine barracks at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Returning from an assignment in the vicinity of Times Square, I heard the news that Japan had surrendered. The war was over! People were shouting and horns were blowing. Delirious with the news of victory, everyone seemed to go wild. Crowds were greeting each other, strangers were hugging and kissing strangers. The air raid sirens were blasting continuously to mark the end of an era and hopefully the beginning of a better one. Although the news had been anticipated, we had had to wait for it a few days. When it arrived, the celebration was spontaneous. I remember being somewhat numb. My first reaction was "It's over-that's great! That means we don't have to fight on the Japanese homeland, and the troops are coming home." Then I thought of those who were not coming home, the men I knew and those I did not know. Foremost in my mind was my kid brother, Eddie, who was shot down over Germany. We wouldn't see him again. I felt that I didn't belong in the midst of this celebration, that I should be home with my parents. I brushed away a few tears and headed for the subway to take me home to Jersey City. As I reached the stairway to the tracks, throngs of people were coming up to join in the excitement. I was probably the only one leaving it, and had to fight my way through the thundering herd. When I finally reached home, mixed with feelings of joy and pain, my parents and I consoled each other. They didn't say it, but I read it in their eyes. "We lost Eddie, you're home, your brother Mario, and your brother-in-law Charles should soon be home." Peace 119 ...