October 26, 2003

My Dad, Jack Pierce fought in WWII in the Pacific against the Japanese. He hopped islands, ducked mortar rounds and returned fire to kill the enemy. He rarely talked about his experiences because he never thought himself special or having done anything special. He used to say he was just one of thousands of men who fought and he was lucky to survive.

What he and his buddies did was special whether they got a medal or any formal recognition. I understand what he meant though. The war was a collective effort and everyone went about their business, not expecting anything, just hoping to stay alive. Freedom and their lives were their rewards.

He was affected by the war, how could you not? He would talk about an incident or place and would stop and stare for a few seconds. He returned to a time and place of war and horror so intense it distracted him from the present.

This showed me that a year and a half of combat can last a lifetime and the reaction to it is involuntary because it affects the soul. Maybe war survivors are not meant to forget but to live and teach lessons from their experiences to others like me.

I remember, as a small boy, Dad would have nightmares. He would yell and flail his arms, trying to fight an enemy ... to save his life. He would startle easily when sleeping too. When Mom would ask me to wake him up from a nap I would to go to the end of the couch, next to his feet and touch his big toe. He would wake and his arms would swing out to attack.

From this, I learned the memories of war are with you even in sleep. The battles and their aftermath are worked out years afterward. This process affects the family because for a split second I was the enemy. I understood though.

Dad would say, with a disgusted tone that war was the "stupidest thing humans ever invented." He said it was a waste of life, resources and there was no reason for it. After all we are supposed to be smart and capable enough to avoid war. He said WWII should have never happened. I asked would he "do it all over again". He said once you were in the fight, you had to finish the job. Yes, he would.

This taught me sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do for the greater good. You must face big sacrifices to be successful and you just have to get the job done. This also showed me the value my Dad and his buddies placed on the United States. It was worth dying for.

My Dad said he found a dead Japanese soldier one morning, who was a little older than he was which was seventeen. He went through the man's pockets and found a couple personal items including a small picture of a woman. It could have been his mother, wife, sister or girlfriend, she was obviously important. He realized the dead man was just that.... a man like him. At that moment, there was a human connection. The enemy wasn't invisible or a just another corpse along the road.

This taught me that wars are really between people who have family and friends just like us. The differences between us are few and trivial.

I saw my Dad cry once. He was thinking and talking about how he and his squad found a U.S. soldier in a bad way and there was nothing they could do ...  the dying process was well underway. Because of the circumstances they had to leave him propped up against a tree to die..... alone.

This taught me there is human side of war. That dead soldier lived within my Dad's memories and soul to his dying day. He could not forget and this taught me that I must always remember that war is important because people die. So  important that he punctuated this lesson with his tears.

Thank you Dad,

Jim Pierce