With the Old Breed_ At Peleliu and Okinawa - E. B. Sledge [94]
We followed him on the double. As I entered the tent, there sat Howard Nease on his cot, a flambeau flickering beside him, and a towel on his lap under a huge, plump roast turkey.
“Happy New Year, you guys,” Howard said with his characteristically broad grin.
We filed past him as he deftly sliced off huge slabs of turkey with his razor-sharp kabar, and placed them into our opened hands. Others came in, and we broke out our two cans of warm beer that each had been issued. Someone produced a can of jungle juice that had been “working.” A guitar, a fiddle, and a mandolin struck up the “Spanish Fandango” as Howard sliced turkey until the carcass was cleaned. Then he directed the music, using his kabar as a baton. Howard told us the burning can of gasoline had been merely a diversion to distract the mess sergeant while he and a couple of other daredevils entered the galley and made a moonlight requisition of two turkeys.
We, the survivors of that recent bloodbath on Peleliu, forgot our troubles and howled with laughter at the story. Enjoying the comradeship forged by combat, we had the finest New Year's Eve party I've ever attended. The 11th Marines fired an artillery salute at midnight—as a peaceful gesture.
It was typical of Howard that he pulled off his turkey requisition so neatly and just as typical that he shared it with as many of his buddies as he could. He was one of those wonderfully buoyant souls, always friendly and joking, cool-headed in combat, and though much admired, very modest. When Howard was killed by a Japanese machine gun in the early days of the Okinawa battle (his third campaign), every man who knew him was deeply saddened. By his example, he taught me more than anyone else the value of cheerfulness in the face of adversity.
One of my most treasured memories is the mental picture of Howard Nease sitting on his bunk carving a huge turkey on his lap with his kabar by the light of a flambeau in his tent under Pavuvu's palms on New Year's Eve 1944, grinning and saying, “Happy New Year, Sledgehammer.” I profited greatly from knowing him.
Our new division commander, Maj. Gen. Pedro del Valle, former commander of the 11th Marines, ordered regular close-order drills, parades, and reviews. This was better than work parties moving rotting coconuts and added a “spit and polish” to our routine that helped morale. A regular beer ration of two cans a man each week also helped. During close-order drill we dressed in clean khakis, which each man pressed under his mattress pad on his canvas bunk. As we marched back and forth on the neat coral-covered parade ground, I thought about home or some book I was reading and wasn't at all bored.
One day we had a 5th Regiment parade. Decorations and medals were awarded to those cited for outstanding service on Peleliu. Many of our wounded had returned from the hospitals by then. When the Purple Heart medal was awarded to those who had been wounded, there weren't many of us who didn't qualify for it.
During those parades we took great pride in seeing our regimental flag carried with us. Like all the regimental flags, it had a large Marine Corps emblem on it with “United States Marine Corps” emblazoned across the top. Below the emblem was “Fifth Marine Regiment.”
But the thing that made our flag unique was the number of battle streamers attached at the top of the staff. These streamers (ribbons about a foot long with the names of battles printed on them) represented battles the 5th Marines had fought in and decorations the regiment had won, all the way back to Belleau Wood (World War I) and the Banana Wars (in South America). We had just added Peleliu to the World War II collection. Those streamers represented more battles than any other Marine regiment had fought in. One buddy said our flag had so many battle streamers, decorations, and ribbons that it looked like a mop—an unsophisticated yet straight-from-the-shoulder summation of a proud tradition!After we had been back on Pavuvu several weeks, I was told one day to dress in clean khakis and to report