With the Old Breed_ At Peleliu and Okinawa - E. B. Sledge [95]
“Hey, Sledgehammer, you'll have it made, being an officer and all that, wheeling and dealing Stateside,” a buddy said as I got ready for the interview.
“If you're lucky maybe you can land a desk job,” another said.
Some of my buddies were obviously envious as I left and walked nervously down the street. The thoughts in my head were that I didn't want or intend to leave Company K (unless as a casualty or rotated home for good) and why on earth had I been chosen for an interview regarding OCS.
When I arrived at the company headquarters, I was sent to a tent a short distance away, near the battalion headquarters. I reported to the tent and was greeted cordially by a first lieutenant. He was an extremely handsome man and, I gathered from his composure and modest self-confidence, a combat veteran.
He asked me in detail about my background and education. He was sincere and friendly. I felt he was trying carefully to determine whether the men he interviewed were suitable to be Marine officers. He and I hit it off well, and I was perfectly honest with him. He asked me why I had not succeeded in the V-12 officers’ candidate program, and I told him how I felt about joining the Marine Corps and being sent to college.
“How do you feel about it now that you've been in combat?” he asked.
I told him it would be nice to be back in college. I said I had seen enough on Peleliu to satisfy my curiosity and ardor for fighting. “In fact,” I said, “I'm ready to go home.”
He laughed good-naturedly and knowingly. He asked me how I liked the Marine Corps and my unit. I told him I was proud to be a member. He asked me how I liked being a 60mm mortar crewman, and I said it was my first choice. Then he got very serious and asked, “How would you feel about sending men into a situation where you knew they would be killed?”
Without hesitation I answered, “I couldn't do it, sir.”
The lieutenant looked at me long and hard in a friendly, analytical way. He asked me a few more questions, then said, “Would you like to be an officer?”
“Yes, sir, if it meant I could go back to the States,” I said. He laughed and with a few more friendly remarks told me that was all.
My buddies asked me for all the details of the interview. When I told them all about it one said, “Sledgehammer, damn if you ain't got to be as Asiatic as Haney. Why the hell didn't you snow that lieutenant so you could go into OCS?”
I replied that the lieutenant was experienced and too wise to fall for a snow job. That was true, of course, but I really had no desire to leave Company K. It was home to me, and I had a strong feeling of belonging to the company no matter how miserable or dangerous conditions might be. Besides, I had found my niche as a mortarman. The weapon and its deployment interested me greatly, and if I had to fight again, I was confident of doing the Japanese far more damage as a mortarman than as a second lieutenant. I had no desire to be an officer or command anybody; I just wanted to be the best mortar crewman I could—and to survive the war.
There was nothing heroic or unique in my attitude. Other men felt the same way. Actually, in combat our officers caught just as much hell as the enlisted men. They also were burdened with responsibility. As one buddy (a private) said, “When the stuff hits the fan, all I have to do is what I'm told, and I can look out for just me and my buddy. Them officers all the time got to be checkin’ maps and squarin’ people away.”
We began to assimilate the new replacements into the company, and we added a third mortar to my section. The battalion ordnance section checked all weapons, and we got new issues for those worn out in the fight for Peleliu.
There were some drafted Marines among the new replacements and also a sprinkling of NCOs who had been in navy yards and other stateside duty stations. The presence of the NCOs caused some bitterness among a few of the Gloucester