We Headed For The Unknown
Letter from Paul W. Major
To the Burt County Plain Dealer
Paul Wilson Major enlisted in the Marine Corps just days after his seventeenth birthday, and was not much over eighteen when he experienced combat on Namur in the Marshall Islands. He was a communications specialist assigned to operate a telephone switchboard at the battalion command post. This position gave him the unique opportunity to experience combat from the “nerve center” of the battalion. He also got to witness the “Old Man” – the commanding officer, LtCol. Aquilla J. Dyess – in action. Major’s impressions of “Big Red” champing at the bit to get ashore are repeated in other sources, and must have been quite memorable. He is careful not to mention that Dyess was killed in action in the ensuing battle.
Major wrote this letter from Camp Maui between rainstorms and camp chores. Maui was notoriously unwired, either for electricity or communications, when the Fourth Marine Division arrived, and this letter reveals that the combat troops themselves were called upon to help build or complete sections of the camp.
Major addressed his update to “Hemp,” an editor of the Burt County Plain Dealer (“Devoted to the Interests of Tekamah and Burt County”) and it made front-page news on 16 March 1944.
March 4, Southwest Pacific
Dear Hemp and All,
I just returned from chow to see four Plain Dealers on my sack. It surely seemed good to read the hometown news again.
We arrived at our advanced base some time ago after a few weeks in the Marshalls. We left the [censored] there to look after things while we prepare for another crack at our “little friends.”[1]
After a few weeks maneuvers on the high seas, we headed for the unknown, pulled out the next day and didn’t get to see much as we weren’t allowed liberty while there. Finally the day rolled around. One whole day we watched the Navy pound the island. Several big explosions made things look brighter for us. We set up our TBX and listened in on a few nets.[2] Sounded better than the World Series to us. That night, lights were out early as we were getting up at 3:00 o’clock the next morning. We ate a good chow and then “over the side to the rendezvous area.” I was with the “old man” and my communications officer.[3] He wanted to be the first to land but other duties delayed him. We were out there biting our nails and cursing our luck. Finally we headed our nose for shore, thinking everything was over for sure.
The first thought I had when I stepped ashore was “Oh Lord, how I wish I was back on that boat,” for we didn’t any more than get the ramp down than a pillbox opened up on us. After that was demolished we proceeded to set up our switchboard. We had just finished that when our Lt. told us to lay two lines up forward with the intelligence officer. I took one look at the “beautiful” shell hole I was in and took off on the double. The three of us located a position for the new CP and started to set it up, and about an hour later the rest of the boys moved up to our new position. As it grew dark, things quieted down somewhat. During the night it rained and was so dark one didn’t dare move for fear of getting shot. This went pretty well the next day so we started cleaning up the place. There were still several snipers around but after several shots we got used to it and walked around as if we owned the place. Several days later our outfit left as it was the hardest hit of them all. After several days aboard ship we arrived at this advanced base, from where, at this time, I am writing to you. Our living conditions could be better, but I like these cots and tents much better than the foxhole I lived in on Namur.
As I look out in front I see the blue Pacific, while in back of the tents are beautiful mountains covered with evergreens and farther up I can see the snow-covered peaks.
We’ve been very busy since we arrived. The first week five of us have been installing our telephone lines, etc. Between the rain and the lack of material, we had a good time of it. About time we would get everything working right the officer would move, so we would start all over again, installing phones, moving lines, and doing a lot of cussing. Today, between showers, we would dash out and get the lines strung to another pole and then dash for the tent.
Well, Hemp, the candle is getting kinda short so I had better close and get to bed before I have no light.[4] Tell everybody hello and take it easy.
As ever, Paul Major.
Footnotes
[1] The [censored] portion may refer to the 25th Marines, who stayed on garrison duty in the Marshall Islands until 28 February.
[2] The TBX transceiver was a “field portable radio” that traveled in four sections and weighed upwards of 100 pounds.
[3] The “old man” was battalion commander LtCol. Aquilla J. Dyess; the comms officer was 1Lt. Thomas M. Kerr, Jr.
[4] Camp Maui lacked most amenities when the Fourth Marine Division arrived – chiefly electricity. Eventually all tents were wired with lights.