[Congressional Record Volume 141, Number 83 (Thursday, May 18, 1995)]
[House]
[Pages H5359-H5365]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
CONTINUATION OF REMARKS ON 50TH ANNIVERSARY OF WORLD WAR II
The SPEAKER pro tempore. Under the Speaker's announced policy of May
12, 1995, the gentleman from California [Mr. Dornan] is recognized for
60 minutes as the designee of the majority leader.
Mr. DORNAN. Madam Speaker, a pretty exciting and historical day
today. What I wanted to do was to add to this history by keeping a
promise I made last month that I would finish my remarks on what was
happening 50 years ago this week. The war in Europe had ended, but the
struggle for the small series of islands comprising Okinawa and a
smaller group of subsidiary islands was one of the bloodiest fights of
the Pacific campaign.
Before I move forward to 1945, let me point out the stories of two
friends of mine. Today, 30, years ago, in 1965, my best friend in the
Air Force, David Hrdlicka, was shot down over Laos. He was only TDY,
down from the wing on that island of Okinawa that so many young men had
died on just 20 years before, and during the 20th anniversary of that
1945 struggle there we were taking the first small steps back into
combat in Asia. David was in what I thought at the time was the world's
greatest aircraft. I was desperately asking the Air Force to recall me
to active duty so that I could fly Mach II, the world's only Mach II,
twice the speed of sound, aircraft, the F-105 Thunderchief, which was
eventually nicknamed after Robert Strange, evil, McNamara's no-win war.
It was the thud, semi-affectionately given that name because of the
number shot down coming into the Red River Valley, into the target area
over Hanoi and Haiphong, the sound of the big F-105 hitting the ground,
the thuds. More Republic F-105 aircraft were lost in combat, prorated
to the number of planes that flew in Southeast Asia, than any other
plane in the war. It carried the major burden of bombing up north along
with magnificent efforts on the part of the Navy's A-4's, F-8's, and F-
4's, and then eventually A-6 Intruders.
{time} 1915
But the l05 was a special airplane. I remember sitting with Dave
Hrdlicka in the base theater at George Air Force base when some test
pilots came over from Edwards Air Force Base, our Air Force test
center, and threw up on the screen big pictures of the F-105. We had
only seen pictures of the Mach-2 F-104 Starfighter a few months ago,
but unlike the Starfighter, a tiny airplane, with small, 7-foot wings,
the F-105 was the biggest fighter aircraft ever made, longer from the
pitot boom and its nose to the tip of its vertical stabilizer than was
the World War II four-engine B-17 Flying Fortress.
So there was Dave, having completed with his lovely wife Carol and
their little babies, a great tour in England, flying another
outstanding aircraft, the F-101 Voodoo. David flew at Bentwaters, which
had the only fighter version of the F-101, all the rest were
interceptors or reconnaissance versions. A unique situation to have
only one Air Force wing of three squadrons in the whole world where
they, a two-engine fighter, the predecessor to the four-generation,
four-decade Phantom, David, I thought, was leading a charmed life from
George Air Force Base in the beautiful Mojave Desert to England with
all of its culture, defending Europe from the evil empire, and then
home for a while and then to this great assignment at Okinawa. And
suddenly here he is, flying over a country that only a few years ago
became famous because of a young President's accent talking about chaos
in Laos. And Dave gets hit from the ground.
Not a damaging hit to him personally, but hit the rear of the
airplane, made a radio call calmly that he was going to have to eject.
His wing man saw him come down into a clearing. As he was disengaging
from his parachute, trying to come up on his radio, they saw men
surround him, probably Communist Pathet Lao soldiers. And he was taken
off into the woods at the edge of a clearing.
Years later, a photograph appears in Moscow, reprinted in the Long
Beach, CA newspaper and sent to Carol where she had gone home to her
family to be near a ranch which was her upbringing with young children.
And somebody who knew the Hrdlickas from the Air Force said, I think
this is David's picture in this Long Beach newspaper. And they sent it
to Carol.
She looked. Sure enough. Dave was very distinctive, stocky, typical
fighter pilot, handsome face. And Carol called the Air Force at the
closest base, which was probably Lowry and said, ``Where is the
briefing on my husband? Here is his picture.''
They were so embarrassed. I remember Carol telling me that they got
the highest ranking officer in the entire area, a brigadier general, a
man who knew absolutely nothing about the missing in action cause, and
they sent him out to Carol Hrdlicka's house to say something, anything.
It was embarrassing for her and for him.
Thirty years later to this very day, Carol is still finding out
things from
[[Page H5360]] records that are being released that were never told to
her, including a rescue operation to free David who at one point in the
late 1960's, he was a known prisoner for 5 or 6 years, was held in a
cave with Charlie Shelton.
Charlie had been shot down in a reconnaissance aircraft, David being
the first fighter aircraft downing in Laos. Charlie had gone down on
his 33d birthday, on April 29, 1965.
I meant to come to the well and remember Charlie, too, although I did
not know him. He was my vintage,
a pilot training graduate. David was a year behind me. I got to know
his wife Marian as well as I knew Carol over the years. Marian
committed suicide during the 25th year of Charlie's imprisonment. He
was kept on record as a POW, the last one, the one and only POW until a
few months ago.
I went to his remembrance ceremony at Arlington with his five grown
children, children that would have been Charlie's grandchildren. His
oldest son is a Franciscan priest. The Hrdlicka family is also
Catholic.
These two men were known to be held together in a cave, Charlie and
Dave. For years reports coming out through intelligence sources of
several escape attempts, a report once that Charlie had been wounded
twice, recovered from his wounds, same kind of rumors about David.
Then, as I said on Jefferson's birthday last month when I declared for
the Presidency, they just sort of disappeared into the mist of Asian
history. I will not accept that.
That is why next month, as chairman of the military personnel
subcommittee, I am going to have hearings with a focus just on Laos,
what happened to Col. Charlie Shelton and what happened to then a young
major, now a colonel, when he was declared presumptive finding of
death, what happened to David Hrdlicka?
What happened to the other 300 men that all went down somewhere
around Laos?
It is interesting that the current Assistant Secretary for Asian
Affairs, Winston Lord, a former Ambassador, wrote the memo to Kissinger
that Henry Kissinger fed to Nixon that had Nixon go on national
television when the fourth and final big C-141 Starlifter brought our
men back on those freedom flights from Hanoi in the spring of 1973. The
first flight landed appropriately on Lincoln's birthday, February 12.
Six weeks later the fourth and final freedom flight came out, and
they all flew nonstop from Hanoi's main Mig base airfield, still shot
up from Linebacker II operations. They flew nonstop to Manilla. For men
like our own Sam Johnson, who served so brilliantly and loyally on this
side of the aisle, who was part of this historic vote today of 238 to
193, Sam had not had a warm shower in 7 years until he hit Clark Air
Force Base in the Philippines, let alone a decent, warm meal. Several
of the men told me they consumed five hamburgers and then would go to
waffles and bacon and eggs. And the flight surgeons were sitting right
there and said, ``Go ahead, gorge yourselves.'' But it was amazing to
see so much passage of time, twice as long as World War II at 3\1/2\
years, twice as long as World War II was Sam Johnson imprisoned. And
there was one Green Beret, Floyd Thompson, who was in exactly a week
shy of 9 years.
It brings back memories of mine, made me want to run for Congress, to
see if I could change this Government. It was so insufferable that an
evil man like McNamara could allow the best and the brightest of our
military academies, the best and brightest of our aviation cadets and
ROTC graduates to rot in prison for 9 years, 8 years for Ed Alvarez and
7 for men like Sam Johnson, in Laos. Nothing.
Then Winston Lord feeds this memo to Henry Kissinger, by then
Secretary of State, and he feeds it to Nixon. And Nixon goes on
television and says, all the men who were prisoners in Laos have been
accounted for. Well, that absolutely was not true.
The North Vietnamese Communists, in an ugly little effort at the very
end on that bright morning in Hanoi, end of March 1973, took 10 men who
had been captured in Laos by North Vietnamese troops and all taken into
the Hanoi prison system, except for one, a CIA Air America man named
Ernie Brace, who had been in a small prison at Dien Bien Phu, where the
French had lost their final battle in the spring of 1954. Ernie Brace
was held at Dien Bien Phu for 3 weeks. And then he, like the other
nine, was immediately moved into the Hanoi prison system. So these were
North Vietnamese, Hanoi-held prisoners.
Nixon either deliberately or knowingly announced to the world, all
the Laotian-held prisoners are home. And not a one was home. Not
Charlie Shelton, not David Hrdlicka, not any of the other roughly 298.
I remember saying at the time, I have been saying it for the last two
decades, where was the warning to our men that if your plane is shot up
over the target areas over North Vietnam and you are smoking or you are
losing power, or your pieces are coming off your airplane, do not try
to get across Laos, back to your Thailand bases? Do not try to
rendezvous with a helicopter, that rescue, Jolly Green Giant chopper in
sight, bend it around, punch out, and parachute into North Vietnam,
because there your odds are about 75, 80 percent that you will be
coming home someday. But if you bail out over Laos and that chopper
does not jerk you out, the penetrator cable does not come down and pull
you out of a triple canopy jungle, you will never be heard from again
by your fellow citizens. What an ugly shame.
So at the hearings next month, maybe I will have one of the grown
Shelton sons or daughters come and tell us what these 30 years and 20
days have been like for them. I know Carol, Carol Hrdlicka has said she
will come to tell us what her struggle has been like, trying to get
justice out of her Government for 30 years.
And because Carol is watching on television, I wanted to tell another
story involving another hero who passed away a few days ago on May 7.
He was a family friend. I only met him once as a young boy. My mother
had met him when he was assigned to Palm Springs Army Air Force Base.
Basically a P-38 base, and a B-26 wing was coming through, the B-26
Martin Marauder, the 22d bomb wing was on its way to the South Pacific,
the first medium bomb wing to go over, the first B-26 Marauders to go
into combat.
Walter Krell was a young captain. My mother had on the dresser in her
room a picture of herself, my aunt, who is still alive and vigorous, I
hope she is watching, Flo Haley, the wife of the tin man in the Wizard
of Oz, and some other friends. They were trying to buck up the spirits
of these young P-38 and B-26 pilots on their way to the South Pacific.
They would sometimes pool their money and see if they could not get a
plane ticket or very rare DC-3 flight to have the wives come and join
them in Palm Springs. And my mother used to tell me about this picture.
He was handsome, Walter Krell, looking a little bit older than the
other young fighter pilots. There was one very young handsome pilot
named Pepino. My mom would point to him and say, Pepe, as the men
called him, said:
Why are they making us get all of the various shots, going
into a jungle area, inoculations, because none of us P-38
pilots are coming back; we are all going to get killed in
combat; we are working out how to use this big heavy P-38
against these light superior Japanese zeros, and the young
men that come after us, they will whip the Japanese zeros,
but we are the guinea pigs.
And she said he pointed over to Walter Krell and said:
Walt over here, he will probably come back because he has
got bomber duty.
Well, for the bomber pilots, it is every bit, if not even more
hazardous. But Walter Krell, in this photograph with four or five
fighter pilots and himself, he was the only one who came back.
I remember meeting him on Waldron Drive in Beverly Hills when he came
to see us. He was so old looking and mature. I was 12 years of age. He
could not have been more than 26 or 27. And I remember him having
dinner with my parents and spending the day with us and telling a few
stories about the South Pacific. After I came to this Congress, on my
second tour here in the mid-1980's, I got a letter from a Walter Krell,
a veterinarian in Yreka, Northern California.
{time} 1930
He said ``Are you Bob Dornan, the son of Mickey Dornan,'' my mother,
``who gave me a small St. Christopher
[[Page H5361]] to wear around my neck, which I wore through 120 combat
missions in the South Pacific? Is that you? Because your mother wrote
me in 1953 and asked for that small St. Christopher back, so that her
son could wear it through pilot training.''
Madam Speaker, here is that St. Christopher medal, on the back of a
larger medal with the face of Christ. This little St. Christopher took
Walt Krell, who died Sunday, May 7, took him through 120 combat
missions, including flying lead when President-to-be Lyndon Baynes
Johnson was getting his one combat ride, for which Sam Rayburn
engineered a Silver Star, amazingly. When Lyndon Johnson was in the
back of another B-26 it was off Walt Krell's wing, then first
lieutenant, soon to be Captain Krell, was leading--he was a captain by
then--he was leading this flight when Japan's leading ace, who is still
alive, I believe, Saboro Sakai, was rolling in trying to shoot down one
of these B-26's, the one with Johnson on it, or the one that was
leading the flight with Walter Krell.
When I got in touch with Walter and found out there was a painting
out there of his beautiful B-26 in combat, from the point of view of
Saboro Sakai rolling in on him, I sent it to Saboro Sakai. He
autographed it and last year Walter sent it back to me with his
autograph on it.
Here is an article that Walt sent me that I put in the Congressional
Record last year. I would like to read part of it to America here, to
the million or so people that watch this, to give a little bit of the
flavor of a young Walt Krell in the South Pacific in 1942, the darkest
year in American history since the Civil War, and maybe after the
hearings next month with Carol Hrdlicka, I will do something from the
Shelton children and something from the Hrdlicka children. I have
gotten to know Dave, Jr., who flew F-18 hornets in the Navy and is now
an American Airlines 727 pilot, I think, domiciled out of Houston.
By the way, today, Madam Speaker, I chaired my first subcommittee
ever, the Military Personnel Subcommittee. It was a good chairman's
mark in that we have 39 pages of the best legislation I have ever seen,
section 563, ``Determination of the Whereabouts and Status of Missing
Persons.''
The gentleman from New York, Ben Gilman, originated this legislation
in the Committee on International Relations, and Senate majority leader
Bob Dole, a World War II veteran over on the Senate side. I am very
proud of this. I hope that anybody that is interested in this and wants
to see it will write to the Committee on Armed Services and get this
legislation. Anything we have missed here we will perfect with this
focus on Laos next month.
By the way, when Walter Krell, about 24 or 25 years old, was flying
B-26's in 1942 out of New Guinea, Bob Dole would have been 18 years of
age, thinking about becoming an Army officer and going either to the
Pacific or to Europe.
Here is Walter Krell's article entitled ``Incendiary Bombs to
Rabaul.''
``In early 1942, Army Air Force Ordnance developed an aerial
incendiary bomb, a device 4 feet long and 16 inches or so in diameter.
It consisted of 36 individual incendiary units, tiny bomblets with fins
and detonators all wired together. The entire bundle, or contained
unit, was attached to the shackles on our Martin B-26 Marauder bomb bay
racks like an ordinary bomb, to be released in the standard way. Each
B-26 would carry 30 or more of these incendiary clusters.
There was one simple difference between high explosive bombs and
incendiary bombs. When the arming wire was pulled away upon release of
these new incendiaries, a shotgun shell would fire a slug that would
cut the wires holding together the bundle of bomblets. Then the 36
individual bomblets would break up, releasing each separate incendiary
unit to fall on the target. The arming wire was supposed to be of
sufficient length to allow the incendiary mother-bomb to clear the
aircraft before the arming wire pulled loose and fired the shotgun
shell thereby dispersing the cluster. Of course, nobody bothered to
tell that to the B-26 aircrew/gunners who helped with bomb loading, so
they routinely clipped the wire short as was done with ordinary iron
bombs. The result was that upon `bombs away', the clusters came apart
while still within our bomb bays, clattering around and bouncing off
the structural members of the aircraft. These incendiary bomblets were
magnesium, and had any of them lodged in the many angular recesses of
the fuselage, it would have been very exciting indeed.
``When I experienced the first release of incendiaries my B-26 was
flying only 15 feet above
those powerful little bomblets tumbling away, when many of them began
igniting and burning. After that the bomb loading of incendiaries had
the undivided attention of our entire crew of 6.'' In those days they
did use two side door gunners.
``Now that we, in the 22d Bomb Group, had interesting new bombs, it
was decided they should be delivered all over the docking facilities at
Rabaul. The first mission to try to do just that would be a flight of
three Marauders. Lt. Chris Herron would lead and Lt. George Kersting
would be flying his right wing with me on his left.''
For all I know, the family members of one of these two men are
hearing their name now on the House floor.
``After an early morning take-off from 7-Mile Airfield near Fort
Moresby, New Guinea, our Marauders flew northeast, climbed over the
Owen-Stanley Mountains, descended over the north coast of New Britain,
and then turned east to Rabaul Harbor. Unhappily, for an undetermined
cause, gasoline siphoned from my right wing tanks for a full 45 minutes
after take-off. Because we never returned home from those long Rabaul
missions with much fuel to spare, my crew was obviously worried. To
turn back, however, would have aborted the raid for the other two
crews. We flew on.
Chris Herron was clever the way he took us in to the target. Still
heading east, we kept descending and skirted the north side of the
Rabaul Harbor at low level, then banked right and pulled into a hard
180-degree turn up and over the rim of the volcanic hills that circled
the harbor on the north side.''
I might remind people that this was the major Japanese forward
staging air base and harbor for capital ships in all of the South
Pacific.
``I remember clearly from my left wing position in our very tight
turn, looking to my right across Herron's B-26 and seeing George
Kersting's propwash mash down the tops of coconut trees. Chris then
rolled us right down on the deck and along the wharfs, and headed west.
``There was a Japanese cargo vessel tied up broadside along the first
dock with dozens of loading personnel moving about on the freighter's
deck, and at dockside. All of them were totally surprised. I vividly
remember their reaction of panic. Two Japanese loaders were carrying
something up a gangplank that resembled a litter. Suddenly they dropped
the litter and while the guy in the back was still looking up, the guy
in front wheeled around and charged back right over the top of the
litter thing, and slammed into the guy staring up at us.''
Madam Speaker, I flew the B-2, the flying wing, the ``Spirit,'' B-2
``Spirit,'' on the first of this month, 6 days before Walt died. I was
going to call him and see if I could come and see him, traveling around
the country in this quest. That is a two-engine airplane. He would have
gotten a big thrill, and I'm sure he is listening now--if he is not, he
was busy in his first--he is in his 12th day up there in that big
hangar in the sky.
This is a story that is hard for pilots to realize how things are
burned into your brain, little quick shots. Imagine coming across the
water at full speed, a full load of bombs, a surprise attack on the
biggest Japanese harbor in the South Pacific, and your eye is picking
up this scene on the dock of a guy turning around and running into the
guy at the back of the litter, staring up at Walt Krell's B-26.
``I could see that Lt. Herron intended to try to take out this ship,
which was positioned parallel to our line of flight. This would have
forced me to waste my bombs out in the open harbor to my left, so I
dropped down and moved ahead of Chris and took the lead, forcing our
formation to the right over the docking area with its stacked supplies
and many warehouses: ``Bombs away.'' I immediately banked left and
headed south towards the Rabaul channel and
[[Page H5362]] away from the exploding docks, thinking Herron and
Kersting would hang onto my right wing until we were clear and I could
slide back into position.
``Chris apparently went his own way, but in my left turn I could not
see where he was. Not wanting to roll back into him, I continued my
hard turn, yelling to my co-pilot to try and pick up the formation. I
was now heading back around toward the east rim of the harbor with
anti-aircraft flak popping all around us, and some of it starting to
explode much too close.
``I twisted my Marauder back and forth to foil the anti-aircraft
gunners until I was back across the harbor east rim and above an active
smoking volcano. In spite of this fast-moving action, I was fascinated
by the volcano's shimmering, silvery walls as I pushed over and dipped
down inside the crater itself. I banked again changing course back to
the right, and
then flew up and over the volcano's western lip.
``There below, streaking out through the Rabaul Channel,'' right on
the deck, ``were Herron and Kersting, so I winged over and swooped down
to join up. We were back in a three ship `V' formation just as the
Japanese Navy Zero fighters jumped us. It was touch and go for about 20
minutes, when straight ahead loomed a sheer wall of thick clouds,
black, with torrential rain. We spread out and plunged into the
weather, very happy to wipe off the swarming enemy fighters. Tropical
fronts were not new to the pilots of our bomb group, but never before
had we encountered anything to equal the intensity of this storm.
``Within minutes our 2,000 horsepower radial engines started to run
roughly because of the excessive cooling of the heavy rain. The
rainwater was also driving into the magnetos, which are mounted up
forward on the Pratt and Whitney engines. We closed our oil shutters
and cowl flaps, but that did not seem to help much. In most South
Pacific rainstorms, we found there was usually a clear gap for your
aircraft to fly between the ocean and the bottom layer of the weather
front. But not this time. In order to see, so I could stay above the
waves, I was aided in flying by opening my side window.''
I can hardly imagine this.
``After about 25 intense minutes, I flew out of the extremely
turbulent storm clouds and made a climbing turn to see if we could pick
up the other two B-26's. The skies were empty, and with no radio
response to our many calls, we headed for home.
``My co-pilot was I.B. Against my sense of justice, I withhold his
full name.''
Actually, Walt Krell had his name in. It was my sense of justice when
I helped rewrite this that took out his name.
My co-pilot ``had not been overjoyed with my maneuvers in dodging the
flak back at Rabaul. He was particularly unhappy when I had to whack
him across the mouth with the back of my hand to get him off the
controls during my in-and-out-of-the-volcano caper.''
I guess you would not find this in a Hollywood script, Madam Speaker.
``He was sulking as we gained altitude to clear the Owen Stanley
Mountains once more. The weather was now clear, with some broken
clouds. I told I.B. to take it, and to make sure to clear the mountains
by at least 1,000 feet. Then within minutes I fell dead asleep.''
It is kind of a thrill to know that the St. Christopher that I have
been wearing for 42 years was around his neck at this moment.
``I woke a short time later. We had cleared the mountains and were in
a gradual descent, but my co-pilot was definitely not relaxed at the
controls. Instead, he was staring straight ahead with a strange look on
his face. My cockpit was in shambles, with scattered papers, maps, and
manuals strewn everywhere. I turned around to check the guys in the
navigator's compartment, and they were ashen-faced. `What the hell
happened?' I asked, quickly figuring out that my co-pilot had skimmed
the mountain too low and had gotten into an awful thump of a turbulent
downdraft. Suddenly at that moment the right engine quit, starved for
that 45 minutes of fuel that had siphoned overboard on our climbout. I
quickly feathered the right prop. We were very light by now and had
good altitude, so we easily made our 7-Mile Airfield home base. While
still on the landing roll, our left engine quit, also out of gas. I was
able to coast off far enough to one side to clear the runway and wait
for a tow. George Kersting's Marauder made it home shortly after us,
but no sign of our lead B-26.
``Within hours we learned that Chris Herron had lost an engine
because of the heavy downpour in that tropical storm. Chris' co-pilot,
an Australian officer who was a former airline pilot, advised that they
fly due south. The Aussie co-pilot knew of a small island with a
landing strip. Herron opted to land with their gear down. Tragically,
the B-26's nosewheel folded and the aircraft flipped over on them,
crushing the cockpit. Chris and his Australian co-pilot were killed.
The bombardier and navigator, Lieutenant Barnhill and Lieutenant
Wright, survived the crash, as did the two crewchief gunners.''
If you are alive out there, Lieutenant Barnhill or Lieutenant Wright,
please write Congressman Bob Dornan.
``Chris Herron was truly one of the great ones, a natural leader who
earned the praise and affection of his crew and all of his colleagues
in the 22d Bomb Group. A day or two later I flew my B-26 ``Kansas
Komet,'' that's right, Walter Krell grew up, just like Bob Dole, in
Kansas, ``I flew the `Kansas Komet' back to Australia. As I chopped our
engines on the ramp at Townsville Airfield, my co-pilot, the same I.B.,
was the first one out and on the ground. When I hit the ground, he
snarled at me `I will never fly with you again, and I will never fly in
that airplane again.'
{time} 1945
I told him he was breaking my heart.
And what did our outstanding group leadership do with this
disgruntled lieutenant? Why, they let him hang around group operations
for several weeks, assisting in the combat briefings for the rest of us
who were flying missions while the colonels found somewhere else to
transfer him. A General Jimmy Doolittle would have ripped off his
wings, stripped him down to his jock strap and had him tethered to a
mule harness to start supplies over the Owen Stanleys.
Several weeks after that first incendiary mission, Capt. Al Fletcher,
our 22d Group intelligence officer, told me that a Japanese diary had
been recovered from a crashed enemy aircraft. In the diary the writer
told of an incendiary raid on Rabaul by three Martin B-24 Marauders
that had caused many fires, all of which had been contained except for
the fires caused by the incendiaries that had fallen into the open
hatch of a moored freighter.
Those fires on board the ship could not be controlled. They reignited
the dock and then the warehouse area, burned fiercely for hours, and
came within a fraction of torching off a large ammo dump.
I am sorry I never saw that captured diary that described the impact
of Lt. Chris Herron's final mission for his country. Yes, sir, he was
one of the very best.
That is all I know about Chris Herron. And another of America's World
War II heroes, Walter Krell, goes to his eternal reward on Sunday, May
7. A few years later on that island of Okinawa, here is what a small
press report sounds like for yesterday:
``The 6th Marine Division makes its 11th attack on May 17, 1945,'' 50
years ago yesterday, ``up Sugar Loaf Hill after a pulverizing
bombardment by Navy and Marine artillery, fighter bombers and naval
gunfire. Once again the Marines take the hill crest but suffer heavy
casualties and must withdraw.''
Madam Speaker, I want to read that again. What was happening 50 years
ago as we began to clear out the German concentration camps on the
other side of the world, and try and save people dying by the hundreds
if not thousands because they only knew a few days of freedom, they
were so malnourished, before God took them.
But here on the other side of the world, on
Okinawa, far worse than what I had talked about on the House floor,
the casualties at Iwo Jima, but here in this 86-day battle, still not
over, that started at the beginning of last month, here on the 11th
assault on Sugar Loaf, I walked this terrible ground on Okinawa once,
could hardly conceive of the change of real estate, ugly real estate,
back and forth. They
[[Page H5363]] must withdraw after winning the ground on the 11th
attack.
Nearby the First Marine Division takes Wana Draw and knocks out some
of the Japanese big guns that were zeroed in on Sugar Loaf. Then the
Army comes in, a surprise dawn attack by the 77th ``Statue of Liberty
Division.'' They take a ridge on the Shuri line, eastern end. The 77th
also reaches the top of Flat Hill Drive, takes it.
And then the 77th Division is driven off by a counterattack. What
would make young American Marines and GI's give up ground that they had
just taken? Only one thing: horrible casualties. Wounded and dying men
all around you. Seeing in that clear Pacific air hundreds of Japanese
infantry forces who were fighting with an incredible spirit, that if we
had ever had to invade Japan would have killed a million of them and
300,000 of our men.
Hence the stupidity and arrogance of this argument over at the
Smithsonian over how to display the fuselage of the Enola Gay, coming
up on the 50th anniversary of the first two atomic bombs on August 6
and 9. It was merciful to the Japanese in this frenzy of combat.
And all this killing is still going on down in the Philippine Islands
50 years ago today. Although the Japanese down there were falling back,
here they are fighting with a courageous ferocity. Offshore a kamikaze
sends the destroyer Douglas H. Fox back to the States for extensive
repairs.
As I recall, the day before this 50 years ago the Enterprise had been
hit; the Enterprise, which had not been at Coral Sea but had survived
the battle of Midway, all the serious combat around Guadalcanal and all
the Solomon Islands. It had been in the battle of the Philippine Sea,
in the battle of Leyte Gulf. It had more battle stars than any other
carrier, had counted for shooting down, I think, 991 Japanese
airplanes. It gets hit by a Japanese kamikaze, loses its forward
loading elevator and is on its way back to Puget Sound on this very day
50 years ago.
Then planes from the carrier Ticonderoga further south attacked the
Japanese garrisons on Taroa Island and Maloelap Atoll in the central
Pacific Marshall Islands.
So we have got combat going on Okinawa, still looking for a last few
snipers down in the caves in Iwo Jima, fighting in the Philippines and
attacking some of the other Japanese naval bases.
Madam Speaker, here to personalize this, which I would like to do,
down to one man. In my Medal of Honor book here is a story about the
young Marine major and how tough people would fight to inspire their
men. An incredible story.
This one more story about day before yesterday. A battalion of the
6th Marine Division led by Maj. Harry Courtney makes an American banzai
charge on Okinawa's Sugar Loaf Hill. This was 2 days before this 11th
attack today and yesterday.
The Marines take the hill and then are driven off. Courtney is
awarded a posthumous Medal of Honor.
B-29's destroy, meanwhile, up in Japan the Mitsubishi aircraft engine
plant and 3.6 square miles of Nagoya. The Japanese sowed the wind and
now they were reaping the whirlwind.
Meanwhile U.S. scientists and bomb experts at Los Alamos, NM select
Hiroshima, and now comes the lucky names, for target, Kokura spared by
God's call, I guess, Kyoto, one of the 5 biggest cities, and Yokohama,
second biggest city, all likely targets for atomic bombs.
Hiroshima, which ironically was the most Christian city in Japan, and
Nagasaki, where Portuguese Christian missionaries, Jesuits, had landed
years before--they were selected. Hiroshima seems especially a good
target because the surrounding hills will focus the blast.
Now to Major Courtney. His name is Henry, same as my dad. Same
nickname, ``Harry.'' Harry Courtney, 29 years of age, was awarded the
Medal of Honor for 2 days of action, the 14th and 15th of this week, 50
years ago, May 1945.
``U.S. Marine Corps Reserve, born 6 January 1916 in Duluth, MN.
Appointed from Minnesota. For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at
the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty, as the exec.
officer of the 2nd Battalion, 22nd Marines, the 6th Marine Division.''
None of those units exist
anymore. ``In action against Japanese forces on Okinawa Shime in the
Ryukyu Islands. Ordered to hold for the night in static defense behind
Sugar Loaf Hill after leading the forward elements of his command in a
prolonged fire fight, Major Courtney weighed the effect of a hostile
night counterattack against the tactical value of an immediate Marine
assault, resolved to initiate the assault, and promptly obtained
permission to advance and seize the forward slope of the hill. Quickly
explaining the situation to his small, tattered remaining force, he
declared his personal intention of leading and moving forward and then
proceeded on his way, boldly blasting nearby cave positions and
neutralizing enemy guns as he went. Inspired by his courage, every man
followed without hesitation, and together the intrepid Marines braved a
terrific concentration of Japanese guns to skirt the hill on the right
and reach the reverse slope. Harry Courtney sent guides to the rear for
more ammunition and possible replacements. Subsequently reinforced by
26 men and an LDT load of grenades''--I guess that is land vehicle
tank--``he determined to storm the crest of the hill and crush any
planned counterattack before it could gain sufficient momentum by
effecting a breakthrough. Leading his men by example rather than by
command, he pushed ahead with unrelenting aggressiveness hurling
grenades into cave openings on the slope with devastating effect. Upon
reaching the crest and observing large numbers of Japanese forming for
action to attack less than 100 yards away, he instantly attacked, waged
a furious battle and succeeded in killing many of the enemy himself and
forcing the remainder to take cover in the caves. Determined to hold,
he told his men to dig in, and coolly disregarding the continuous hail
of flying enemy shrapnel, he moved to rally his weary troops,
tirelessly aiding casualties, and assigned his men to more advantageous
positions. He was then instantly killed by a hostile mortar blast while
moving among his men. Maj. Harry Courtney by his astute military
acumen, indomitable leadership and decisive action in the face of
overwhelming odds had contributed essentially to the success of the
Okinawa campaign. His great personal valor throughout sustained his men
and enhanced the highest traditions of the U.S. Navy. He gallantly gave
his life for his country.''
Walter Krell, Chris Herron and the fledgling Army Air Force, Maj.
Harry Courtney with the Marine Corps, Charley Shelton, and Dave
Hrdlicka over Laos. Again the last lines of Mitchner's great story of
flying in Korea comes to mind, his fictitious admiral based on a Mark
Mitchner or Bull Halsey type, played so beautifully by Frederick March
says, ``Where do we get such men? Why is America lucky enough to have
such men?''
Madam Speaker, when I was on the floor last month about Okinawa, I
mentioned that we do have one Member, Bob Stump, who served on the
ships watching the young wounded come aboard. He was barely 18. He had
fudged his age to join a couple of years before, trained at Pearl
Harbor and was off the coast of Okinawa.
Madam Speaker, I include the following article for the Record:
[From the Hill, Apr. 5, 1995]
Memories of Okinawa--Representative Bobby Stump Recalls His Role in the
Historic Battle on Its 50th Anniversary
(By David Grann)
Bobby Stump wanted to become a doctor, but when the
Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor in December 1941, he did what
all his friends did: He enlisted.
There was only one catch. He was only 16.
``I had to boost my age up,'' the 68-year-old Arizona
Republican congressman recalls. ``All my friends were seniors
in high school, and, technically, I wasn't old enough.''
Training as a medical technician for the Navy on Pearl
Harbor, he later helped operate at sea on dozens of U.S.
servicemen wounded in the bloody battles of Luzon and Iwo
Jima. On April 1, 1945, he was on board a ``flat top''
aircraft carrier steaming toward the 60-mile-long, banana-
shaped island of Okinawa.
Fifty-years later, the silver-haired chairman of the House
Veterans' Affairs Committee, who believes he is the only
member of Congress who fought at Okinawa, recalled in an
interview the beautiful clear day that launched the most
devastating naval battle of World War II. Over 1,200 ships
carrying more than 180,000 marines, sailors and soldiers
converged on the rocky Pacific island.
``It was Easter Sunday,'' he says. ``We didn't know exactly
what to expect, but we
[[Page H5364]] knew it was going to be bad. We were getting
ready to attack the mainland of Japan, and this was a final
step.''
His aircraft carrier was part of an arsenal of 40 large and
small carriers, 18 battleships and nearly 200 destroyers. As
they moved through the East China Sea, sailors searched the
skies for the dreaded Kamikaze suicide planes.
``They would come straight in, or drop bombs from under
their bellies.'' Stump recalls. ``It didn't matter if you
were on a big or little ship. They'd try to hit everything.''
Although his ship was never hit directly, he watched other
ships sinking in flames. His ship rescued sailors from the
stormy seas. As the battle dragged into May, there were
endless alerts, as planes roared across the night sky.
Stump witnessed first hand what one war correspondent
described in Ronald Spector's account of the battle, Eagle
Against the Sun: ``The strain of waiting, the anticipated
terror made vivid from past experience, sent some men into
hysteria, insanity, breakdown.''
Stump, who turned 68 on Tuesday, downplays his personal
experience. Instead, he speaks solemnly of his friends who
lost more than him, those who never came home after the
invasion.
``It was worse than Luzon and Iwo Jima,'' he says.
``Nothing compared.''
On June 21, when the guns finally quieted, 7,000 U.S.
marines and soldiers were dead. In the protracted sea-air
battle offshore, where Stump was, over 5,000 sailors were
killed and 5,000 more wounded.
The toll on the Japanese was equally devastating. Over
70,000 Japanese died, along with more than 80,000, mostly
civilian Okinawans. ``It was the last ditch effort for the
Japanese to stop us, and they fought and fought,'' says
Stump.
After the bitter struggle, Stump finally set sail for home.
He had been at sea for over two years. As ships with American
recruits passed him heading for Japan, President Truman
ordered the first atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima, followed
by a second nuclear weapon on Nagasaki.
It was the only way to stave off an even costlier invasion
of the Japanese mainland, Stump says, and a death toll even
larger than Okinawa. He was incensed when the Smithsonian
Museum recently planned an exhibit of the Enola Gay,
suggesting America did not have to bomb Hiroshima in order to
end the war.
``Anyone who was at Okinawa,'' he says, ``anyone who saw
that kind of fighting, knew what an invasion of Japan would
really mean and what was at stake.''
And he adds: ``They would not try to rewrite history.''
Mr. DORNAN. This battle that started on Easter Sunday, April 1, had
now been raging for 48 days, barely halfway through the battle. It was
the last invasion before the assault on Japan's home islands. Okinawa
was needed, of course, as a harbor for our U.S. fleet and to build more
air bases for the fighters and heavy bombers to get them up closer. The
Iwo Jima invasion was necessary as a halfway point. We lost over 6,000
men and saved, 3 to 1, 18,000 air crewmen to come back to Iwo Jima. Now
we are moving in closer to finish off the war. The big island would be
used as a staging area for the invasion of the southern island of
Kyushu and the planned assault later on Honshu, the middle Japanese
island where Tokyo is. What a campaign we avoided by all of this brave
action.
These Japanese kamikaze or suicide attacks were called ``kikusui,''
floating chrysanthemums. There were flown against the invasion fleet
all around the island. Most aircraft were flown by young men with
hardly any hours at all as pilots. Almost half of the attacking force
were kamikaze. I wonder how you got to not fly a kamikaze and get to
have a parachute and enough fuel to get you home?
The attacks also included more traditional methods of attack by
fighters and bombers. Most were shot down by ships of the invading
forces and U.S. and British naval aircraft. The Americans and the
British lost 763 aircraft. That is almost as many as we have in all of
our stateside fighter squadrons now. 763. But the Japanese lost 10
times that, 7,700 aircraft. Thirty-four U.S. ships were sunk. Naval
forces lost 4,900 sailors, killed or missing, and in naval combat when
somebody is missing, they are gone, beneath the waves, no remains to go
home, no grave to visit.
{time} 2000
From March 17 to May 27, the U.S. Navy suffered its worst losses in
the war; at least 90 ships sank or were out of action for 30 to 90
days, all of that during last month, this month and next month 50 years
ago.
Because of Clinton's appearance in Moscow, flying over England, which
was a grievous insult to the British and the French, all of our allies
along the coast, the Dutch, the Belgians, the Danes, because he went to
the European ceremonies in Moscow, in a strange way not honoring the
fact that we fought together in an allied cause, but unfortunately
recalling that Stalin, in his evil, he reigned for 29 years, Hitler for
12.
So Stalin killed millions and millions of more people than even the
horrible Adolf Hitler. Stalin caused this conflict in Europe by signing
a Hitler-Stalin pact in 1940. Both of them invaded Poland, cutting it
in half. Then Stalin began to trade and gave war materials to Hitler so
he could further crush and suppress the rest of Europe, and then as
with all deals made with the approval of the devil, Hitler, on June 22,
1941, shortly before our being dragged into this by Pearl Harbor at the
end of the year, he attacks the other ugly evil force of this century,
the Communists in Russia; unbelievable, cataclysmic events.
Madam Speaker, I had intended to come to this floor, but I did not
want to distract from our great vote, when McNamara's book first came
out last month.
I got to host a radio show for 3 hours that is hosted by Ronald
Reagan's son, Michael, and on the show, because McNamara's book was
prominent in the news at that time, I had two important guests. One was
the best military writer in America today. He has got a great article
in today's Washington Times, Col. Harry Summers, the senior editor of
Vietnam magazine.
Summers came on the radio with me, and I read his article from that
day, last month, from that day's commentary section of the Washington
Times, and he said that there were many men culpable for the terrible
loss in Vietnam during those early years when we could have achieved a
victory by mining Haiphong Harbor, concentrating our energies in I
Corps, sealing the Ho Chi Minh trail, giving the Vietnamese the same
type of aircraft we were giving the British, the Turks, and the Greeks.
We were giving F-4 ``Phantoms'' to everybody, but in a racist way, we
treated our South Vietnamese allies as though they were not worthy of
top-line equipment. They might take the war north as Lee took it north
to Antietam and Gettysburg. No, bottle them up in the South, teach them
to be subservient, and we will handle all the artillery and all the air
cover, so we wean them away from fighting the way they should have as a
counter-guerrilla conflict.
In those early years he said there were many people culpable. He even
takes a shot at honorable General Westmoreland. He said McNamara was
different. NcNamara was evil. Nobody has used that word on this House
floor. I bet it has never been used in the Senate. I said on the air
that night on 100 stations, I said, ``Colonel Summers, you are correct,
Robert Strange McNamara is an evil man. Never in my lifetime, maybe not
in this century, maybe not throughout the Civil War, have we had a man
personally responsible along with President Johnson for killing so many
Vietnamese on both sides, 2 million or more North Vietnamese.'' All the
young soldiers and peasants
did not understand dialectical materialism or communism, just sent
south against B-52 strikes, all sorts of punishment before they got
into combat where they were used on suicide raids like these Kamakazes
or Bonzai charges.
After Harry Summers, I had an unusual guest, an excellent American
patriot, Tom Moorer, 4-star Navy admiral, who had been commander of the
7th Fleet in the Pacific, and he had been CINCPAC commander for all our
Pacific forces, the biggest geographical military command on the planet
Earth. He then became chief of naval operations, then chairman of Joint
Chiefs of Staff, sending memo after memo to Robert McNamara, begging
him to mine Haiphong Harbor.
At this time, McNamara had already made up his mind. He made up his
mind before he put the first Marine on the beach March 8, 1965; we
could not win, so he was feeding young kids like cannon fodder into
this death machine while he is skiing at Snow Mass, and his son is
avoiding the draft. I have seen him lie on Larry King and lie on the
Tom Snyder Show. I have seen him lying all over, pushing his book,
driving it up to No. 1 on the New York Times bestseller list.
[[Page H5365]] A caller called in from Montana. I believe his name
was Bob. I hope he is watching. Bob says, ``Admiral Moorer, Bob Dornan,
I think Robert McNamara was a war criminal.'' There was a pause, and I
said ``Admiral, those words crossed my mind yesterday at the Vietnam
Memorial.''
I thought, well, liberals love to come at me for overstating the
case, and I rejected ever using those words. ``But what do you think,
Admiral? Is he a war criminal?'' Admiral Tom Moorer, without a blemish
on his career, in 1942, he was flying PBY Catalinas, and they were
painted black, and they called them ``Black Cats.'' They were actually
using it as a patrol bomber, bombing in the Solomon Islands:
Distinguished Flying Cross, with Silver Stars, great combat veteran,
Admiral Tom Moorer says, ``Congressman, yes, I believe Robert McNamara
is a war criminal.''
Now, ladies and gentlemen, I lost my speaking privileges on this
floor the day after the State of the Union for using a term that I will
not complete tonight. I do not want to get into problems with our
parliamentarian. I talked about aid and comfort to hostile powers with
whom we were engaged in combat.
Suffice it to say, when Wolf Blitzer asked Bill Clinton at the White
House if he felt McNamara's book vindicated him, Clinton said, ``Yes.
Yes, I do.'' And because he is bright, he said, ``I know it sounds
self-serving, but, yes I do.''
Imagine getting vindication from an evil person, a person that
honorable men think of as a war criminal. You cannot get vindication
there, Mr. Clinton. You just cannot!
And I have found out since then why Mr. Clinton went to Moscow alone
on New Year's Eve of 1969, why he woke up in Leningrad and headed to
Moscow January 1, 1970, why he was there only 3 days, 27 degrees below
zero, 10 inches of snow cover. It was to go to a banquet, a banquet
that a former U.S. Senator was at in the National Hotel, the best hotel
in town, and he was broke, freezing, and he was only there 3 days, and
then off to Prague, the banquet, the peace banquet, and then I found
out yesterday from a new book called ``Clinton Confidential,'' by
George Carpozzi, I hope George is listening, I would like to help his
book to attain a counterbalance to McNamara's book, that Clinton had
also another trip to Moscow I never knew about, June 1991, 4 months,
less than 4 months before he declared for the Presidency on October 3,
1991. He was in Moscow. The Paula Jones incident was March 8, which,
by the way, is V-E Day, and 1 month later, June 8, he has a personal
1\1/2\-hour meeting with the head of the KGB. What the heck was that
all about, less than 4 months before he declared to be commander in
chief?
So, Madam Speaker, I will say what some press people know, that I
will be back trying to follow parliamentary rules, but if I get
overruled. I will appeal the ruling of the Chair and I will win by a
party-line vote. I polled my party members. I am going to discuss next
month what the historical expression in our Constitution means about
aid and comfort, what constitutes a hostile power, what constitutes an
enemy force, what 58,000 deaths mean, and I will do a full hour on
McNamara and why it is an absolute disgrace that he would rip open this
unhealed wound of Vietnam and bring the type of agony that I have gone
down to the wall and talked to some of these vets that they feel
McNamara telling them it was wrong, terribly wrong, that we would try
to free South Vietnam, help them stay free, with 44 newspapers in
Saigon.
I went over there eight times during that conflict. I knew what the
mistakes were, what the corruption was. But none of it was as evil as
the human rights violations in Hanoi or what goes on to this day this
North Korea, in China, in conquered Vietnam, in Cuba, for that matter.
We have a terrible century of history, and it is going out with a lot
of bloodshed and hurt and pain, but we have still got these heroes from
our darkest year of 1942. We have got our Walt Krells and David
Hrdlickas.
Something has been bothering me lately. I have been thinking about
traveling around the country, reaching maybe way beyond my reach, to
offer some leadership to this country, and it has to do with something
that atheists love. They call it the natural selection. I wonder if it
has ever occurred to anybody the worst thing that wars do to any
nation, large or small, the best, the very best die off, while the
worst hide out and escape and cut corners and they get rewarded during
peace, sometimes, while the best are gone, the opposite of natural
selection, as atheists see it by the law of the jungle.
How many men would be running for the presidency today who had shown
their strength of character in
Korea or Vietnam if they had not been put into this Medal of Honor
book as posthumous recipients of their Nation's greatest honor? There
is only one word on that Medal of Honor: Valor. And sometimes I think
it stands for ``veterans against lying or revisionism.''
Mr. McNamara's book is a sacrilege and an offense from a war
criminal, and I will not stop trying to bring out the truth until my
last breath, and I might tell my liberal critics that all warriors hate
war. Those who were not killed to kill another mother's son in combat,
like myself, but were trained to be combat ready and have a small piece
of the action of melting down the evil empire, we understand why a
nation should honor those that died, or those that had their young
bodies ripped apart or those that managed to escape unscathed by the
grace only of a merciful God, a Creator.
This Nation must come back to virtue, and our great Nation has to do
something for the veterans, starting with the Korean veterans on July
27, in about 2 months and a week, when a beautiful, uplifting memorial
is dedicated.
There are a thousand veterans that are going to turn out to confront
Mr. Clinton if he shows up that day because in the letter to Colonel
Holmes he also questioned our effort in Korea. I know what people who
avoid service think. They think people are fools who go off and lose
their lives. Well, they are not fools. They are the very essence of the
countries' strength, and they are the salt of the Earth.
And with that, Madam Speaker, I conclude this evenings' remarks with
what Douglas MacArthur said, ``I shall return.''
____________________