chiak47
11-12-2010, 04:39 AM
And to think; this generation is almost gone.
http://online.wsj.com/article/AP85b5dff88a9643f6ad248e857742f719.html
SYRACUSE, N.Y. — The package arrived a few years ago at Marty Connor's house on Onondaga Hill. He is used to receiving extraordinary artifacts by mail, but even Connor stepped back in wonder at what the box contained:
A human skull.
If this tale begins as ghastly, it ends in beauty. It illustrates what Connor — now in his early 80s — has been doing quietly for the past 40 years: Sending back the "souvenirs" that soldiers took home from World War II.
Connor grew up in the Strathmore neighborhood of Syracuse. As an 18-year-old enlistee in World War II, he fought with the Marine Corps at Iwo Jima, one of the most savage battles in American military history. More than 6,800 Americans were killed on that Pacific island. The Japanese lost about 22,000 men.
The fighting was unspeakable, often eye-to-eye. No one worried much about taking prisoners. Survival demanded seeing the enemy as less than human.
In that way, many Americans — including Connor — went home with "souvenirs."
This was commonplace, not only at Iwo Jima but in any theater of war. Once the bloodshed ended, victorious soldiers took artifacts from the bodies of the enemy. Especially prized were the battle flags that Japanese soldiers wrapped around their waists. Connor carried away a Japanese soldier's diary, a pay book, some black-and-white photographs. He tried not to think about how the Japanese kept those photos in their helmets, just like the Americans.
Back in Syracuse, Connor locked them in a trunk.
They stayed there until 1970, when Connor and his wife Janet journeyed to Iwo Jima as part of a 25th anniversary remembrance of the battle. As the couple traveled around the island, they met a Buddhist priest from Japan. The priest explained how any object from the body of a fallen soldier had spiritual importance to the widows and children of those killed on the battlefield.
The conversation lingered with Connor. Once he got home, he mailed the diary and some other "souvenirs" to the priest, who was able to get them to the relatives of the lost soldier. In a letter of thanks, the priest tried to express how much those artifacts meant to the family.
"It gave them closure," said Connor, who felt as if he, too, had somehow been set free.
That was 40 years ago. The one-time gesture became an enduring mission. Connor, often aided by Nick Zingaro and other local Marine veterans, dedicated himself to helping other American veterans send back Japanese "souvenirs." The priest is long dead, but Connor found new contacts in Japan who'd return artifacts to families. As word spread throughout the national Marine community, Connor received photos, letters and dozens of battle flags, often inscribed in Japanese with the names of the soldiers who carried them.
The most powerful link occurred a few years ago, when the brother of a World War II veteran mailed him the skull.
Connor chooses not to reveal the identity of the man who sent it. The man's older brother had fought in the war. When he died, he left behind the skull and a letter of explanation. "To be truthful," the veteran wrote in the note to his family, "I can't go into details on how I acquired the skull; I feel ashamed of the barbaric deeds I nursed."
The skull had belonged to a "formidable enemy," he wrote. He brought it home, but he soon felt he was dishonoring his foe. His final wish was for the skull to be "laid to rest" in Japan.
The younger brother didn't know where to begin until he learned of Connor, who fulfilled the quest.
http://online.wsj.com/article/AP85b5dff88a9643f6ad248e857742f719.html
SYRACUSE, N.Y. — The package arrived a few years ago at Marty Connor's house on Onondaga Hill. He is used to receiving extraordinary artifacts by mail, but even Connor stepped back in wonder at what the box contained:
A human skull.
If this tale begins as ghastly, it ends in beauty. It illustrates what Connor — now in his early 80s — has been doing quietly for the past 40 years: Sending back the "souvenirs" that soldiers took home from World War II.
Connor grew up in the Strathmore neighborhood of Syracuse. As an 18-year-old enlistee in World War II, he fought with the Marine Corps at Iwo Jima, one of the most savage battles in American military history. More than 6,800 Americans were killed on that Pacific island. The Japanese lost about 22,000 men.
The fighting was unspeakable, often eye-to-eye. No one worried much about taking prisoners. Survival demanded seeing the enemy as less than human.
In that way, many Americans — including Connor — went home with "souvenirs."
This was commonplace, not only at Iwo Jima but in any theater of war. Once the bloodshed ended, victorious soldiers took artifacts from the bodies of the enemy. Especially prized were the battle flags that Japanese soldiers wrapped around their waists. Connor carried away a Japanese soldier's diary, a pay book, some black-and-white photographs. He tried not to think about how the Japanese kept those photos in their helmets, just like the Americans.
Back in Syracuse, Connor locked them in a trunk.
They stayed there until 1970, when Connor and his wife Janet journeyed to Iwo Jima as part of a 25th anniversary remembrance of the battle. As the couple traveled around the island, they met a Buddhist priest from Japan. The priest explained how any object from the body of a fallen soldier had spiritual importance to the widows and children of those killed on the battlefield.
The conversation lingered with Connor. Once he got home, he mailed the diary and some other "souvenirs" to the priest, who was able to get them to the relatives of the lost soldier. In a letter of thanks, the priest tried to express how much those artifacts meant to the family.
"It gave them closure," said Connor, who felt as if he, too, had somehow been set free.
That was 40 years ago. The one-time gesture became an enduring mission. Connor, often aided by Nick Zingaro and other local Marine veterans, dedicated himself to helping other American veterans send back Japanese "souvenirs." The priest is long dead, but Connor found new contacts in Japan who'd return artifacts to families. As word spread throughout the national Marine community, Connor received photos, letters and dozens of battle flags, often inscribed in Japanese with the names of the soldiers who carried them.
The most powerful link occurred a few years ago, when the brother of a World War II veteran mailed him the skull.
Connor chooses not to reveal the identity of the man who sent it. The man's older brother had fought in the war. When he died, he left behind the skull and a letter of explanation. "To be truthful," the veteran wrote in the note to his family, "I can't go into details on how I acquired the skull; I feel ashamed of the barbaric deeds I nursed."
The skull had belonged to a "formidable enemy," he wrote. He brought it home, but he soon felt he was dishonoring his foe. His final wish was for the skull to be "laid to rest" in Japan.
The younger brother didn't know where to begin until he learned of Connor, who fulfilled the quest.