The Fighting Boy Scouts of WWII

“The Gray Ranks”

When you think of The Boy Scouts, what are the first images that come to mind? Camping in the woods, doing good deeds, setting up tents, learning how to use a compass, hiking in the wilderness?

Well, yes, all that but much, much more in the history of the Polish Scouting and Guiding Association.

Founded in 1916 during WWI, Polish Scouts fought in the Great Polish Uprising and the Polish-Ukrainian War in 1918; the Polish-Bolshevik War in 1919 and the most devastating war in human history, WWII.

Banned by the Nazi-Soviet regimes when they overran Poland, they went underground. They adopted a code name, “Szare Szeregi” – The Gray Ranks. Under the leadership of Scoutmaster Florian Marciniak, they began clandestine operations. They hooked up with the Home Army, made up of Polish military that escaped death or capture.

Scouts between 12-14 began to distribute anti-Nazi propaganda to German refugees in Lithuania and other Eastern European countries. They had the leaflets signed with their initials, SS, to create confusion with the infamous German SS, The SchutzStaffel.

Boys between 15 and 17 attended Combat Schools, secret schools that taught surveillance, reconnaissance and small acts of sabotage.

Boys over 17 joined combat assault units. They targeted prominent Nazi officials, raided POW camps and performed large-scale sabotage. They executed three high-ranking SS officers that were known to have committed atrocities against Polish civilians.

Between August 1943 and February 1944, The Gray Rank Scouts and The Home Army attacked German border posts. Border posts were heavily guarded and the fighting was intense. There were some 13 attacks and the Scouts took some casualties.

SS-Brigadefuhrer Franz Kutchera was a notorious war criminal infamous for his fanaticism and brutality. Mass executions of Jews and Eastern European Slavic people occurred on his watch. The Gray Rank boys killed him in early February 1944 and relieved Europe of a monster.

The Warsaw Uprising in August of that year saw eager, battle-hardened teenagers of the Scouts ready to take back their country from the Nazi regime. Their ranks had grown to over 8000 and now teenaged girls were involved in auxiliary activities including ammo delivery, medical care and propaganda.

One of the first acts of the Scouts during the Uprising was an attack on the Gesiowka death camp in Warsaw. They captured a German Panther tank that led the assault. The Germans were so incensed that a group of teenaged boys had the temerity to fight them, they fought back vigorously, knowing what would happen to them if they lost the camp to a group of children.

There were substantial casualties on both sides, but in the end, the camp was liberated. Many of the freed prisoners, mostly Jews, joined the uprising.

Unfortunately, Hitler, wanting to make an example of Poland to pressure the British to come to terms with him, wasn’t about to allow a group of teenagers and irregular troops defeat the Wehrmacht-Heer. He issued orders to crush The Uprising without delay and don’t go out of your way to take prisoners.

In 63 days of unrelenting, intense fighting, The Uprising was crushed by the overwhelming power of German Panzers and crack Waffen SS units. The Gray Ranks suffered devastating casualties, with some units losing 70% of their ranks.

The Polish Scouts gave up their childhood to fight for their country.

Those who survived retreated to the forests but they never recovered. The retribution that followed the failed uprising was a horrendous bloodbath carried out by the Germans against the Poles.

 

 

The Reluctant Admiral

Isoroku Yamamoto

Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto was exhausted. A four-hour meeting with Prime Minister Hideki Tojo and the other militarists had left him drained. He slowly made his way from the Imperial Palace to his car. His driver, Ittoheiso (1st class petty officer) Takamasa Ikeda, noticed the admiral’s measured step. This would not be the time to engage him in their favorite subject, politics.“Good evening sir!” He saluted, bowed and opened the rear door of the big black sedan. Yamamoto slid slowly into the back seat and closed his eyes. “How did the meeting go, Admiral?

The driver’s informality with the admiral was normal behavior. Yamamoto wanted intelligent, engaged men around him. He didn’t stand on ceremony with most of them and he particularly enjoyed Ikeda’s company. He sighed, “Like most of them these days, Ikeda. Lots of talk, talk, talk. If we could harness their hot air, we wouldn’t have an oil shortage.”

Ikeda said solicitously, “There’s Macallan in the cabinet, sir.”

“Thank God.”

The admiral opened a small cabinet affixed to the back of the passenger side front seat. Inside was a bottle of his favorite scotch and two tumblers. He had developed a taste for the whiskey during his two postings in U.S. as naval attaché. Most Americans diluted their scotch with soda or water over a glassful of ice. Curtis Wilbur, the U.S. Secretary of the Navy, advised, “Isoroku, a true scotch drinker doesn’t dilute ‘the water of life’ with anything.”

He took Wilbur’s advice to heart. He poured himself a generous portion. Every time he drank scotch he thought of Wilbur. A thoughtful, kind and immensely intelligent man, he became a friend and advisor to the young attaché. The secretary had invited him to join his weekly poker game with his other friends in the government. It saddened him that his country might be on a collision course with his mentor’s.

As a naval major (equivalent to a Lt. Colonel) new to the Washington political world, he found the Americans an open, friendly people who, after a short time, welcomed him into their midst. “They couldn’t be more different than we are,” he thought. “They are forthright and have no hesitation when it comes to challenging authority. They don’t want war with anyone. Since their Great Depression, they have built a mighty industrial machine. We must not provoke them. If only I could get The Emperor and Tojo to understand that.”

Tojo had taken him aside during a break in the meeting. Admonishing the Admiral, he said, “My dear Yamamoto, you must get this approach to peace out of your system. The Emperor has begun to notice. There is a New Order in Asia and Japan will lead that Order. The European imperialists have helped themselves to many of our neighbors: the French in Indochina (Vietnam), the Dutch in the Netherlands East Indies (Indonesia) and the British in parts of China. Japan is hemmed in and risks losing these important sources of raw materials. We must insure these sources of supply. That is why we went into China. China is our best market for exports and Manchukuo (Manchuria) provides natural resources that are vital.

“Japan is tired of these Europeans calling the tune in Asia. I intend to kick them out!” His voice got higher and higher as he spoke. “Japan will be an imperial power, I assure you! We will build it into an itto koku (first rate nation). Tojo laughed. “You will be an admiral in the most powerful navy on the high seas! But, my dear admiral, you need to get on board.” He laughed heartily at his pun.

“General, you make many good points and I agree with most of them. I simply believe it is important to include in these deliberations a posture of good relations with the United States.”

“My present attitude is not to initiate hostilities with the U.S. unless provoked. But they have provoked us! They are helping those corrupt Kuomintang (Nationalist Chinese government) monkeys against us! They have initiated an oil embargo and frozen all Japanese assets in the U.S. Intolerable!

“General, I’m aware of that, but….

Tojo interrupted, his face a mask of stone. “Yamamoto, you need to understand that poor negotiations by our leaders in the past have put The Empire in a poor bargaining position. Foreigners living here are not subject to our laws. Inconceivable! And I find their racial prejudice insulting!

“General, I share your revulsion with these coercive acts. With you as Prime Minister, I’m sure Japan will do better at the bargaining table. I only suggest that when it comes to the United States, we tread carefully. I lived there for several years and traveled the country extensively. It is a huge country! Three thousand miles from one end to the other. Enormous industrial capacity. A population that is five times ours. We cannot win a fight with them. They could bury us.”

Tojo eyed Yamamoto carefully. The admiral had risen rapidly in the ranks, had friends in high places and was extremely competent. No point in making him an enemy. But he warranted watching.

“I will take your remarks into consideration, Admiral.”

The telephone rang in Yamamoto’s office. Chief of Staff Rear Admiral Matome Ugaki picked up the receiver. “Ah, Ugaki. I hope you are well. This is Mitsumasa Yonai.”

“Minister Yonai, it is good to hear your voice.” Their informality harked back to years as classmates in the Imperial Japanese Naval Academy. Yonai had been first in his class, two years ahead of Ugaki. He had only recently been appointed Minister of the Navy.

“May I speak to the Admiral?”

“I’m quite sure he would welcome your call, minister.” Holding the receiver, he buzzed Yamamoto’s office. “Minister Yonai on the line for you, sir.”

“This is Yamamoto, Minister Yonai.”

“Ahh, Yamamoto. Are you well?”

“Quite well, thank you, Minister.”

“Very good. The reason for my call is to advise you are being assigned to the Combined Fleet as Commander-in-Chief. You will, of course, be promoted to Naval General (four star admiral). Your appointment is effective immediately.”

“Thank you, Mr. Minister. I was getting tired of sailing a desk.”

After Yonai hung up, Yamamoto called for his Chief of Staff. “Ugaki, break out the scotch, we’re going to sea! At last!”

“If it’s all the same to you, sir, I’ll have a taste of sake. Congratulations.” The men raised their glasses and toasted each other.

It was a blustery, overcast day. An iron gray sea slapped sluggishly against the massive hull of the Admiral’s flagship, the 70-ton battleship Yamato. Yamamoto and Ugaki disembarked the ferrying launch which had brought them from the naval base pier. As they boarded the large battleship, the boatswain piped them aboard with a “VIP Coming Aboard” whistle. Waiting to greet them was the Captain of the Yamato, Minoru Genda.

Greeting the new Commander-in-Chief with a sharp salute, a smile and a deep bow, Genda said, “Welcome aboard, Admiral.” For the captain of the ship to personally greet a guest arriving on board demonstrated the highest regard and respect for the guest. Ordinarily, the officer of the deck greeted any newcomers and escorted them to the captain’s office.

“Good to see you again, Genda. And congratulations on your appointment to Captain of the Yamato. It is a noble ship and I know you will sail her well. May I introduce my Chief of Staff, Admiral Matome Ugaki?”

Genda and Ugaki exchanged salutes and bows. “Welcome Admiral Ugaki. Let me get you gentlemen out of this weather and into a glass of the Macallen.”

Yamamoto chuckled. “You are the ever resourceful sailor, Genda. However, Admiral Ugaki is traditional. He prefers sake.”

“I believe I can accommodate the Admiral. I have a goodly supply of Junmai sake on hand. If you gentlemen will follow me.”

After Yamamoto and Ugaki had comfortably settled into the plush chairs in the captain’s stateroom and had their glasses charged, Genda opened the conversation. “Admiral, you have been abreast of recent developments emanating from the Prime Minister’s office. Could you bring me up to date? Rumors are flying like seagulls around the Fleet.”

“My dear Genda, this conversation never took place. A reality is, seagulls will probably continue to fly. Another reality is that the Army is dragging the Navy into expanding the war. The militarists are even talking about attacking the United States. There is a very strong likelihood that will happen in the very near future. Still another reality is that one of the reasons I’m here is that I’m unintentionally under a political cloud. Important people would be quite happy to see me dead. Going to sea may save my life. Ironically, I’m delighted to be standing on the deck of one of the Emperor’s ships.” Yamamoto smiled. “By the way, Genda, given my circumstances, serving with me may not help your career. I’ll transfer you to another ship if you wish.”

“I wouldn’t consider it, sir.”

“Thank you, Genda.”

The Yamato was undergoing combat trials in the western Pacific off the southern island of Shikoku. There was a knock on Yamamoto’s stateroom door. “Sir, we have received a radio message. ‘For your eyes only.”

“Thank you, lieutenant.”

When the lieutenant had left, Yamamoto opened the decrypted message.

Draft plans for naval support for an attack on the Philippine Islands. Need completion of same within thirty days.

Well, this is it,” he thought. “Only they’re going after the wrong islands. Our left flank is vulnerable as long as the U.S. Pacific Fleet is in Hawaii.”

The tension in the office of Naval Minister Mitsumasa Yonai’s office could be cut with a samurai sword. Prime Minister Hideki Tojo stood before the assembly and announced, “Negotiations with the U.S. regarding sanctions and our presence in China are going nowhere. It is essential for Japan’s security that we establish ourselves in those countries that are currently providing the raw materials for our survival. Consequently, the Emperor has approved military operations for our presence in strategic areas of Southeast Asia, effective immediately.”

The tension was accompanied by silence. Yamamoto thought, “Well, there’s no turning back now. God help Japan. If America mobilizes, we are doomed.”

Tojo continued. “General Masaharu Homma’s 14th Army is poised to strike the northern most island of Luzon in the Philippines as we speak. We must support his invasion by eliminating any naval threat in that area, particularly the British.”

When it was Yamamoto’s turn, he said, “Gentlemen, if we are to expand the war to the south, I believe it is imperative to secure our left flank. The U.S. Pacific Fleet moored at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii is a dagger to our throat. There are significant U.S. Army installations in our path of advance, particularly in the Philippines. When we capture those islands, we’ll have to intern a large U.S. force. The U.S. will be forced to react. Their fleet is larger than ours and poses a significant threat to any large-scale military thrust southward. I propose we destroy the American fleet before any ground assault takes place.”

Yonai said, “How do you propose to do that, Admiral?”

“I have consolidated the carrier forces into a unified strike force called The First Air Fleet. It gathers our six largest carriers and their support vessels into one unit. I am in the early stages of drafting a plan that would involve sailing that fleet within a couple of hundred miles or so of the islands of Hawaii. I will unleash a large group of dive-bombers and torpedo bombers, which will be supported by fighters on the unsuspecting American ships. It will cripple the U.S. Navy for an extended period and give us time to complete our dominance in Asia.”

The Naval General Staff sat in stunned silence. It was audacious, risky and daring. But these were men who had, all of the professional lives, taken minimal chances on virtually everything. In their view, the risk was too great.

Admiral Osami Nagano, chairman of the General Staff, exclaimed, “My God, Yamamoto, what are you proposing? You could lose the fleet!” There were murmurs of approval to his remarks around the table.

“Gentlemen, I realize it is a dangerous undertaking, but the odds are too good not to take. If we fail, we’d better give up the war.”

Tojo kept his silence. He looked at Yamamoto through slitted eyes with the slightest hint of a smile. “I finally have the Admiral where I want him. He will fail and I will have no opposition.”

There was much opposition to the plan from the naval officers. Arguments and comments flew back and forth. Finally, Nagano spoke. “I’m sorry, Admiral, it’s out of the question. It’s insane to take such a risk.”

Yamamoto, ever the clever poker player, deceided to raise the stakes. “Well, gentlemen, I believe it is a risk worth taking. When you overrun those U.S. Army installations and begin putting their men into POW camps, the American Fleet, loaded to the gunwales with Marines, will descend on us like angry bees. We will be forced out of Manchukuo and China and will lose all we have gained.”

Tojo had a card to play. “My dear Admiral, you overestimate the Americans. Their government has gone on record as being isolationist. Their navy can be easily dealt with by ours.”

Yamamoto saw Tojo’s game. Now it was time to call and raise again. His hole cards were his enormous popularity within the fleet and his connections with the royal family. He said, “If my plan is rejected, I will be forced to tender my resignation.”

He had stunned them again. Tojo looked troubled. He hadn’t counted on Yamamoto’s tolerance for risk. He thought, “If he does resign, he will be finished. He’ll be in charge of folding blankets at the Yokosuka Naval Base for rest of his career.”

“Good day, gentlemen.” Yamamoto stood, bowed deeply and walked out of the room.

The answer wasn’t long in coming. He was poring over paperwork in his office on the Yamato. The communications officer knocked on his door.

“Come.”

“Sir, a ‘for your eyes only’ for you.”

“Thank you, lieutenant.”

Proceed with assault plans on U.S. Pacific Fleet. Advise when you are prepared.

Yamamoto allowed himself a smile. “Ugaki!” His chief of staff appeared almost immediately from adjoining quarters. “I just went eyeball-to-eyeball with the General Staff and they blinked. Let’s have a toast to a successful mission.”

Ugaki smiled. He knew his boss liked nothing better than to be under way at sea. “Congratulations, sir. Now we can really get to work. Shall I arrange a meeting with our senior officers?

“Absolutely. At this point, I need to meet with the carrier commanders and the commander of the air arm. Tell them I would like to meet them here tomorrow at 14:00.”

The next day the captains of the carriers Akagi, Kaga, Soryo, Hiryu, Shokaku and Zuikaku and the two senior commanders of the air fleet made themselves as comfortable as possible in Yamamoto’s small stateroom. Admiral Ugaki took one of the small chairs in a corner.

“Gentlemen, good afternoon. What I’m about to say cannot leave this room. I have given the responsibility of inflicting a crippling blow on the U.S. Pacific Fleet on the island of Oahu in Hawaii. This is their headquarters. Their moorings surround the small island called Ford. They are compacted there in a small area and present an excellent target.”

“It is my belief that we must inflict such a powerful strike on their fleet that they would not be able to threaten us for six months to a year. We cannot expand the war to other areas until we secure our flank. If we fail in this mission, we will have lost the war and all we’ve gained thus far.”

“The air assault will be comprised of a fleet of about 350 aircraft, consisting of dive bombers, torpedo bombers and fighters. Preparations for this mission begin immediately and supersede anything you are working on presently.” Turning to Ugaki, he said, “Admiral, would you show our guests what we have so far.”

Ugaki spread a large map on the stateroom table. He said, “Gentlemen, this is a map of the Ford Island mooring of the U.S. Fleet at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. As you can see, the Americans have moored most of their larger ships side by side. These are our primary targets. We will launch our aircraft in two waves, approximately thirty minutes apart. The first wave, under the able command of Commander Fuchida, will be the primary attack force. The second wave, under the most excellent Commander Shimazaki will attack targets of opportunity and anything that the first wave misses. Our planes will be divided evenly among the six carriers.”

The officers looked at each other. Some took deep breaths and exhaled. Others pursed their lips and looked intently at the deck.

The Captain of the Akagi, Kiichi Hasegawa, asked, “How much preparation time do we have?”

Ugaki said, “We have extensive training and target analysis ahead of us. I would expect we will be ready to sail in five months. Further details will be sent to you shortly, to which you are welcome to add your comments. For obvious security reasons they will be distributed to you by courier under a ‘for your eyes only’ basis. There will be no radio contact regarding the mission.”

Yamamoto stood. “Gentlemen, thank you for attending. Admiral Ugaki and I will contact you with further details.” The officers and their hosts exchanged salutes, deep bows and filed silently out of the room.

The next months were a whirlwind of activity for Yamamoto and his men. Detailed mock-ups of the harbor and the positions of the ships moored there were studied by all pilots. They were assigned specific targets to attack when they arrived. The pilots had to learn how to launch torpedos in shallow water since the harbor around Ford Island was only 45 feet deep. Specially crafted bombs for the dive-bombers were constructed by machining down their nose to make them armor-piercing. Exercises at sea were performed regularly. Yamamoto supervised all training and exercises personally. After four months had elapsed, he told Ugaki, “I think we’re ready.”

As if to signal a good omen to Yamamoto’s efforts, November 26th, 1941 dawned bright and cheerful. The task force comprised of the six carriers, their flight decks swollen with attack aircraft, set sail on an easterly heading. Sailing protectively around the carrier force were two battleships, three cruisers, nine destroyers, eight tankers and twenty-three submarines. Radio silence was strictly maintained. All communication with surface vessels would be by flag or by a signal projector utilizing Morse code.

Avoiding shipping lanes and zigzagging to avoid U.S. submarines, the task force arrived at the launch point, 275 miles north of Pearl Harbor early on December 7th. The pilots were given their last instructions. Primary targets for the torpedo planes were the highest value targets, battleships and carriers. Fighters were to strafe as many parked aircraft as possible. Dive-bombers were to hit ground targets of opportunity.

As the fleet turned into the wind to accommodate the aircraft launch, Commander Fuchida, in the lead plane, signaled all first wave pilots, “Follow me!” The crews of the carriers stood on the flight deck, waved their caps in salute, threw their arms into the air and yelled, “Banzai, Banzai, Banzai!” The slower torpedo planes led the attack, relying on the element of surprise. The dive bombers followed. In all, 183 planes in the first wave took off on a southerly heading.

In an hour Pearl Harbor hove into view. Fuchida couldn’t believe his luck. Ford Island was packed with warships. He signaled the task force, “Tora, Tora, Tora! (Tiger), advising that the attack had caught the fleet at their moorings. It was also the signal for Commander Shimazaki’s second wave to join in.

In two hours, the attack was over. Four battleships were sunk including the Arizona and West Virginia; three others severely damaged; three cruisers damaged; three destroyers and three other ships destroyed. 188 American aircraft were destroyed. The American fleet suffered over 2400 killed in action (KIA) and over 1200 wounded. Civilian casualties were 57 KIA, 35 wounded. Japanese losses were only 29 aircraft and 64 KIA.

It was a massive body blow to the U.S. Navy, but not a knockout punch. All of the U.S. carrier force were at sea on various assignments and suffered no losses. This would come back to haunt the Japanese Navy in the future. The very ships they missed at Pearl would ultimately help cause Japan’s defeat. Naval warfare was shifting from battleships to carriers. The U.S. recognized this. The Japanese did not.

Admiral (4 stars) Husband Kimmel, Commander in Chief of the U.S. Pacific Fleet, was relieved and demoted to Real Admiral (2 stars). He retired shortly thereafter.

Militarily, it was a great victory for Japan. On a political level, it was a disaster. It aroused in an isolationist-leaning America a passion for revenge. It was a “sneak attack,” and a “stab in the back.”

Advised of the victory, Yamamoto confided to his Chief of Staff Ugaki, “I fear all we have done today is to awaken a great sleeping giant.”

The following six months saw the Admiral delivered one victory after another. The Japanese were ecstatic. Here is our Admiral Horatio Nelson (British Naval hero in the Napoleonic Wars), they thought.

The tables began to turn at the subsequent Battles of Midway Island and Coral Sea. The U.S. Navy had broken the Japanese secret code by which they communicated confidential messages among their forces. By reading deciphered messages from the Japanese Fleet to and from Imperial Navy HQ, the Navy knew the positions of Yamamoto’s attack force. The U.S. carriers, untouched at Pearl Harbor, dealt Yamamoto severe losses.

He continued to fight on, but pessimism sank in. He wrote to a friend in August of 1942, “I sense that my life must be completed in the next 100 days.”

He was close to correct. On April 18th, 1943, resplendent in his class A white dress uniform, he boarded a Mitsubishi G4M “Betty” bomber for an inspection tour of Japanese bases. Meanwhile, Admiral Chester Nimitz, Commander in Chief, U.S. Pacific Fleet, had received intel that disclosed Yamamoto’s itinerary. Nimitz immediately scrambled a squadron of Army P-38 fighters. They intercepted Yamamoto’s plane and shot it down over the Japanese-held island of Bougainville. There were no survivors.

Japan was stunned. They had lost their greatest wartime naval strategist. They had lost their Horatio Nelson.

His remains were recovered and sent to Japan. Honors poured in from Emperor Hirohito and other Axis powers. Hirohito awarded him the Grand Order of The Chrysanthemum. Hitler made him the only foreigner to receive the Knight’s Cross-with Swords.

His successor, Admiral Mineichi Koga said, “There was only one Yamamoto and no one can replace him.”

 

 

 

 

The Nurse’s Nurse

Ruby Bradley

The 6/2/2002 issue of the Los Angeles Times obituary read, “Ret. Col. Ruby Bradley, an army nurse who cared for captives in the Philippines during WWII, has died. She was 94.”

Who was this woman? A survivor of over three years in captivity under the Japanese, during which time she nearly starved to death; who was a survivor of two wars (WWII and Korea) and only one of three women who attained the permanent post-war rank of colonel.

The story begins on the morning of December 8th 1941 in the John Hays hospital in Baguio, Luzon, 200 miles north of the Philippine capital of Manila. Thirty four year old 1st Lt. Ruby Bradley, U.S. Army Nurse Corps, was preparing medical instruments for a routine operation.

Suddenly an agitated soldier appeared at her door. “The Japs have attacked Pearl Harbor! All surgeries have been cancelled. Report to Headquarters immediately!”

As she walked to the surgeon’s office, she began to hear explosions. Airplanes with red circles on their wings flew in low to drop their bombs. Lt. General Masaharu Homma’s 14th Army was slamming into the island of Luzon.

Casualties began to appear a few hours later. They were hurriedly treated in the hospital. The army detachment evacuated the base. Shortly thereafter, Homma’s troops arrived and began to round up prisoners. Ruby, another nurse and a doctor fled and hid in the hills. Five days later, they were captured when the couple that was helping to hide them betrayed them to the Japanese in return for favorable treatment by their new captors.

Their former post was turned into a POW camp. Ruby and the remaining medical personnel were forced to treat any and all casualties. Rations were several restricted, consisting of a half cup of rice in the morning and evening. Ruby learned how to steal food, which she shared with the children while going hungry herself. During the 37 months at John Hay, she assisted in 230 major operations and the delivery of 13 babies.

In 1943, she was moved to the Santo Tomas Internment Camp in Manila and remained there until liberation. During that period, she and several other imprisoned nurses earned the title, “Angels in Fatigues” from fellow captives. They carried on with their nursing duties, but with shortages of medicines and medical equipment, many died. “There were several deaths a day, mostly the older ones, who couldn’t take it,” she said after the war. Food rations were the same as they were at John Hay. By the time the camp was liberated in Feb. 1945, the svelte 110-pound Ruby had lost 26 pounds.

Ruby returned to her hometown of Spencer, W.Va. After a long, well deserved leave she was assigned to Ft. Myers, Va. She was promoted to captain and reassigned to McGuire General Hospital in Richmond Va. But not for long. When the Korean conflict broke out, she served as the chief nurse for the 171st Evacuation Hospital. Ruby was off to war again.

The 171st was in the front lines, treating wave after wave of casualties. Ruby was in the thick it. “It got to the point where I didn’t want to see another drop of blood.” When the Chinese “volunteers” entered the fray, sweeping across the 38th Parallel, the 171stwas directly in their path. Everyone was ordered to evacuate. Ruby sent her subordinates out and stayed to supervise the evacuation. She was on the last plane out.

In 1951 she was named chief nurse for the 8thArmy and promoted to lieutenant colonel, supervising the work of some 500 nurses in hospitals and aid stations all over Korea.

She came home from Korea to a hero’s welcome, appeared on the TV program “This is Your Life,” and began to collect medals and honors for her lifetime of service. Finally, in 1963, Ruby hung it up. Colonel Ruby Grace Bradley, 55 years old retired, the most decorated woman in U.S. military history.

For her service in two wars, she earned 34 medals, including two Legion of Merit, two Bronze Stars, the WWII Victory Medal and the International Red Cross’ Florence Nightingale Medal.

She passed on May 28th, 2002 and rests in Arlington National Cemetery.

“I want to be remembered as just an Army nurse.”

 

The Latino Schindler

Jose Castellanos Contreras

Jose Arturo Castellanos Contreras was born in San Vicente, San Salvador in December of 1893 to the well-to-do family of General Adelino Castellanos and Isabel Contreras de Castellanos.

When he was of age, his father sent him to the prestigious Military Polytechnic School. He spent the next 26 years in the Salvadoran Army, rising to the rank of colonel.

 

After becoming the Second Chief of the General Staff of The Army of the Republic he had a life–altering change of career. He had opposed the Salvadoran President Maximillano Hernandez Martinez, a dictator who had seized power in a coup in 1931. He proceeded to run a fascist regime and executed thousands of dissidents.

Given Contreras’s position in the Army and family connections, Martinez decided it would be better to banish him from San Salvador rather than kill him. A less than subtle suggestion to Contreras convinced him to accept the post of Salvadoran Consul General in Liverpool, England in 1937. A year later, he was transferred to Hamburg, Germany.

Contreras wasn’t happy being relocated to another fascist country. He was dismayed and angry at the way minorities were being treated. But he was unable to do much about it. Making waves could cause trouble for his family back home.

Then, on November 9th, 1938, things changed profoundly for the colonel. Over the next two days, Fascist thugs attacked Jewish businesses, synagogues and buildings all over Germany, burning and looting in what was to be known as Kristallnacht, The Night of Broken Glass (because the windows on many Jewish businesses were smashed).

By the time the nightmare was over on the 10th, over 1000 synagogues had been burned and more than 7000 Jewish businesses had been destroyed. Many Jews were beaten or killed. Some 30000 Jewish men were arrested and thrown into concentration camps.

It was the beginning of The Final Solution – the eradication of the Jews in Europe.

Contreras was horrified and disgusted. He fired off a letter to El Salvador’s Foreign Minister, Miguel Angel Araujo describing what had happened and requested permission to give visas to anyone who wanted to leave Germany.

 

Permission was not granted. El Salvador had plenty of its own problems and the last thing the country needed was to rock the boat with the much more powerful Germany. El Salvador wasn’t the only one closing the door. The U.S. and Britain turned away many refugees.

 

Their feeling was they were slowly recovering from a Great Depression, unemployment was high and a wave of unemployed, non-English speaking people would only make economic matters worse.

 

Contreras’s troublesome reputation had preceded him. He was reassigned to Geneva, Switzerland in 1941.

Enter Gyorgy Mandl. He was a Jew born in Transylvania. He thought he would be safe from persecution in Romania, since it had been neutral since WWI.

He was wrong.

The country’s National Legionary State had taken power in September 1940 and they were virulently anti-Semitic. They sided with Germany in the war and in October some 500000 German troops goose-stepped into Romania.

The Final Solution had arrived. That country’s pogrom began in January.

Mandl fled to Switzerland with his family where he met Contreras. Despite being officially neutral, Switzerland had a border with Germany and, concerned about maintaining their neutrality, had strict refugee laws. They were wary of upsetting their infinitely more powerful neighbor.

Concerned his new friend might be deported, Contreras made Mandl a Salvadoran citizen and changed his name on his passport to “Mantello.” Completely illegal, but no one became aware of it. It saved the Mandl family from deportation.

Contreras tried again to appeal to the Salvadoran Ministry and again the request was refused.

Enter Carl Lutz. He was the Swiss vice-consul in Budapest, Hungary. He had been giving out Swiss “Safe-Conduct” papers to Jews and found safe houses for them.

Germany’s Teutonic bureaucracy believed the papers were genuine. The Swiss government didn’t know about them.

Officially.

In 1942, Contreras solemnly made Mandl/Mantello “First Secretary of the El Salvadoran Swiss Consul,” a position that didn’t exist. The new First Secretary began issuing Salvadoran citizenship papers to Jews all over Eastern Europe. For the ones that couldn’t make it to Switzerland, he mailed them. In short order, 13000 Czech, Hungarian, Polish and Romanian Jewish families became Salvadorans.

The documents granted holders the protection of the International Red Cross and the Swiss Consul in Budapest. When Germany invaded Budapest in1944, blank sheets of paper were sent out to Jewish families with instructions to stick on their own pictures and fill out the information by hand.

In 1944, Martinez was overthrown and fled to Honduras via Guatemala. In May of 1966, his driver, whose father had been killed by the Martinez regime, stabbed him to death.

The new Salvadoran government was more sympathetic to Jews and asked Switzerland to recognize its citizens and extend diplomatic protection to them.

After the war, the Colonel lived a quiet life and rarely spoke to anyone about his rescue efforts. He died in May 1977.

In 2010, Yad Vashem, an Israeli organization dedicated to honoring any Jew that resisted the Holocaust and any Gentiles who helped Jews in need, recognized Colonel Castellanos with the title of “Righteous Among the Nations.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The War’s Oldest Lieutenant

Vladimir “Popski” Peniakoff

On September 3, 1943, General Bernard L. Montgomery’s British 8thArmy prepared to assault Italy.

The vanguard of the 8th was a curious outfit known as “Popski’s Private Army.” Its leader was the overweight, balding, forty-six-year old Vladimir Peniakoff, a Belgian with Russian origins. His unit’s mission: infiltrate behind German lines and determine the enemy’s formations and strengths.

During WWI, he had enlisted as artillery private in the French Army. He was badly wounded and was invalided out of the service.

Between the wars, he moved to Cairo, Egypt and operated a sugar business. He fell in love with the trackless desert and spent hours driving around the wasteland in an old, indestructible Model A Ford he affectionately nicknamed “Pisspot.”

When WWII broke out, and the British were dueling Italian forces in the Libyan Desert, Peniakoff rushed to Monty’s HQ in Cairo and volunteered to fight. Although desperate for bodies, they took one look at the middle-aged prospect and said, “No, thanks.”

Not to be deterred, he found a sympathetic medical officer who “tweaked” his records, turning him into a rugged specimen. It didn’t hurt that Peniakoff spoke Italian and Arabic fluently and knew the North African desert like the back of his hand. That did the trick. He was commissioned a second lieutenant.

Because HQ had trouble spelling his name, he became popularly known as “Popski.” His fluency in Arabic earned him the job of organizing the Senussi tribesmen into a behind-the-lines combat force. He threw himself into the job and soon had an intelligence network operational. He was also able to glean useful intel from the Arabs who worked as servants in the Italian HQ and mess halls. They hated the Italians who treated them with contempt.

Popski led nighttime raids to blow up Italian ammo and fuel dumps in the venerable Pisspot. She eventually broke down and went on to Model A heaven. Popski gave her complete burial rites in the desert.

In 1942, he was called to HQ in Cairo and instructed to form the “Number One Long Range Demolition Squadron,” a company sized (130-150 men) team of British Special Forces. His unit was soon known as “Popski’s Private Army.”

The Private Army was outfitted with jeeps with mounted machine guns. Its mission: roam behind the enemy’s lines, gather intel, blow up installations, ambush small units and generally raise hell.

When Monty’s spearheads hit the beaches in southern Italy, Popski and his men were in the vanguard, infiltrating enemy lines and capturing a commercial central telephone exchange. He gave himself a phony name and the rank of an Italian colonel. He used the exchange to speak to various Italian units, giving them bogus orders, asking pointed questions and receiving detailed top-secret info in return.

Dressed in a dress uniform of an Italian colonel, he infiltrated German HQ and located top-secret info on the location of a crack German parachute unit.

Popski’s team continued to spearhead Monty’s advance up “the Boot,” causing havoc behind the German lines with his patented hit and run tactics.

Halfway up the “boot” of Italy, his luck ran out. In a firefight with determined Germans, his left hand was shot off. After a few days in the hospital and over the objections of the medical staff, he checked himself out and rejoined his Private Army.

The steel hook he wore didn’t slow him down. “Hell, I can shoot as well with one hand as two,” he said.

Age is mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter. Raise a glass to a man’s man, “Colonel Popski.”

The Wannsee Conference

“The Final Solution”

By late 1941, it was apparent in the upper echelon of the Third Reich that Hitler intended all the Jews in Europe be deported or executed. Earlier in 1941, Der Fuhrer had addressed a meeting of his senior ministers wherein he tacitly gave them permission to proceed with Die Endlosung der Judenfrage, the final solution of the Jewish question. The policy became “Citizenship is to be determined by race; no Jew to be a German.”

To carry out such a massive enterprise at a time when necessary human and material resources were being stretched presented a formidable logistical challenge.

In July 1941, Goering had written to SS Obergruppenfuhrer (Lt. General) Reinhard Heydrich to “make all necessary preparations” for a “total solution of the Jewish question” in all territories controlled by Germany and to submit a “comprehensive draft” of a plan to render these areas Judenrein (cleansed of Jews).

Heydrich and his staff worked assiduously during the second half of 1941 to develop plans to evacuate all Jews from Germany and the occupied countries to labor camps in Poland or western USSR, which was expected to be conquered soon. Those who were unable to work would be killed.

In November 1941, Heydrich sent invitations to State Secretaries, ministers of various government agencies responsible for various policies relating to Jews and the head of the Gestapo to join him on January 20th, 1942 in Wannsee, a resort town in the suburbs of Berlin.

He laid before them a document, which became the Wannsee Protocol. His right-hand man taking minutes was SS Oberstrumbannfuhrer (Lt. Colonel) Adolf Eichmann.

Heydrich opened the meeting with an accounting of Jews that had been emigrated in the last ten years, about 530000 and the estimated number of them that remained, country-by-country (which totaled over eleven million), half of which were in territories not under German control. The complex question of what constitutes a Jew had been discussed since the Nuremberg Laws of 1935 had left their status deliberately ambiguous.

Heydrich spoke for about an hour, followed by thirty minutes of Q and A during which the attendees announced the logistical difficulties of complying with the Protocol. Heydrich listened impatiently but quietly and then adjourned the meeting. He instructed Eichmann to eliminate from the minutes of the meeting all references to killing.

Some historians speculate that the main purpose of the conference was to make the top representatives of the Nazi bureaucracy accomplices and accessories to Heydrich and the plan he was pursuing.

The fate of millions of people was decided in less than ninety minutes by a handful of men.

 

Vinegar Joe

Lieutenant General Joseph “Vinegar Joe” Stillwell came by his moniker honestly. The U.S. commander of the China- Burma-India Theatre, which included American, Chinese, some British and assorted native fighters in Southeast Asia was tough, brilliant, abrasive, opinionated and difficult. He suffered inefficiency and stuffiness badly.

From early in his career, his short temper and colorful language made him stand out. A strict religious upbringing instilled in him an early intolerance for anything he considered incompetent and a distain for structure despite four years of discipline at West Point. He showed an early aptitude for languages and was first in his class in French.

After a stint as a Combat Intelligence Officer in WWI, he was posted to China. He scorned the life of leisure and parties that many expatriates there enjoyed. He made the unusual decision to study Chinese and spent six years in studying and mastering that difficult language and traveling the countryside. He saw first-hand the suffering of the Chinese people and witnessed the Rape of Nanking when the Japanese massacred 40000 civilians. His diligent information gathering made him one of America’s top experts on China.

Despite his blunt personality, his brilliance provided a steady rise in the ranks. Shortly after Pearl Harbor, he was bucked to Lieutenant General and appointed Military Attaché in China by Chief of Staff George C. Marshall who acknowledged he was giving Stilwell “one of the most difficult assignments” in the war. He took charge of all American and Chinese forces in Burma.

Several well-known combat units came under his purview: Colonel Claire Chennault’s “Flying Tigers;” General Frank Merrill’s “Merrill’s Marauders;” “The 1st Commando Group;” AAF’s “10th Air Force” flying C-47s and DC-3s transports over the mountains (“The Hump”) bringing supplies to Chiang’s army; and British General Orde Wingate’s “Chindit Raiders.”

He found the average Chinese soldier fought well if properly led, but they were poorly equipped. Supplies weren’t organized. Their commanders lacked boldness and courage. He found corruption and politics at every turn in the upper ranks of the Kuomintang (Nationalist) Army. The main problem was its leader, Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek.

Little more than a warlord, Chiang knew that as the principle U.S. ally in China, the U.S. needed him to fight the Japanese to take pressure off of Allied (U.S. and British) forces. He would renege on his promises, countermand Stillwell’s orders and threaten to withdraw form the campaign if American didn’t send more supplies.

He constantly demanded more. More of everything, rations, guns, bullets, equipment and sometimes money.

He was reluctant to commit his army to the war with Japan, believing he had to preserve it for an eventual conflict with Mao Tse-Tung’s Communist army.

Stilwell was placed in a no-win position while trying to defeat a determined enemy. He was forced to juggle conflicting responsibilities: A U.S. general responsible to the U.S. Joint Chiefs with orders to improve the training of the Kuomintang Army in the fight with Japan; a deputy to the Supreme Allied Commander in Southeast Asia, the egotistical Lord Louis Mountbatten Chief of Staff; and, most importantly, “minder” of Chiang.

His chore was made more difficult by his no-nonsense personality. He generally disliked the British and loathed Chiang, regarding him as a tinhorn warlord incapable of military professionalism, nicknaming him “Peanut.” He put enormous effort into negotiating and managing Chiang. It was an experience that embittered both men.

Still, grinding his teeth, Stilwell struggled to bring Chiang around, despite his duplicity and foot-dragging. The bitterness between them didn’t go unnoticed and Stilwell was offered another command to defuse the situation, but he stuck with the job.

In his hurry to out-do the despised Brits, he made several impulsive tactical moves with Wingate’s Chindits and Merrill’s Marauders. He flung them into unnecessary frontal assaults on targets, which caused enormous losses.

His bull-headed determination was wearing thin on his allies. Problems with Chiang continued. Impulsively, he sent a blunt message to FDR regarding the situation. The enormously effective Chinese political lobby in Washington, led by Madame Chiang, demanded Vinegar Joe’s removal. Needing the Chinese military effort to keep pressure on the Japanese, FDR pulled the plug.

Recalled to Washington, he was showered with honors, but the experience left him a bitter man. He had been unceremoniously sacked and told not to discuss the “China Problem” with anyone, especially the media.

He was transferred to Okinawa. With the death of the land commander there, General Simon Bolivar Buckner, he   assumed command of the ground forces in that final land battle of the war.

He served until war’s end and was present at Japan’s surrender on the deck of the USS Missouri in September of 1945.

He died the next year from stomach cancer.

“Vinegar” Joe was a brilliant and difficult commander caught in an untenable position. It was a shame that politics did him in. One wonders what he could have accomplished had circumstances been different.

 

 

 

 

 

The Vessell Project

Late in 1942, Bella Italia was firmly in the grip of Mussolini’s Fascism. The OSS (U.S. Office of Strategic Services, precursor to the CIA), received an incredible proposal from Vatican City out of the blue. (The City at that time was a diplomatic enclave not an independent country).

A high official of the Papal Secretariat offered to furnish the Americans with first-hand information on strategic bombing targets in Japan. These were obtained by representatives of the Holy See in Tokyo. OSS jumped on the info and a complex espionage network was born.

This invaluable Intel began a circuitous but short journey to OSS’s HQ in Washington. From the Japanese capitol, it was sent to a contact at the Vatican, then relayed to the Irish Embassy in Rome.

With the secret approval of the Irish Premier Eamon De Valera, the info passed by diplomatic pouch to Dublin. It was collected by Richardo Mazzerini, an anti-fascist émigré who represented The Italian Secret Service (SI).

It was transmitted in a special naval code to OSS’s HQ in Washington, D.C. There it was analyzed by an ex-colonel of Mussolini’s air force, an air attaché at the Italian Embassy in Tokyo before his defection to the U.S. It provided Washington with vital Japanese Intel in early 1943.

The masterminds behind Vessell were two very different men. The Vatican agent was a thin, intense cleric, Monsignor Giovanni Battista Montini, later to gain fame as Pope Paul VI. His fellow OSS conspirator was Earl Brennan, a Catholic State Department veteran and a Republican member of the New Hampshire legislature who held down the SI desk in Washington. Brennan had been educated in Italy as a boy and had returned to join the American embassy in Rome.

He befriended powerful high-ranking fascists in Mussolini’s regime, including IL Duce himself. On a diplomatic mission to Canada, he met members of the Italian Mafia, sent into exile by Mussolini.

Three months later, Operation Torch (Allied invasion of North Africa) was launched. Brennan recruited several Italian-Americans for service in Algiers to plan espionage and infiltrations into Sicily and Italy, which obviously would be the next targets.

A mysterious arrangement with the American Mafia was concocted. The mob agreed to co-operate with clandestine operations in Sicily. In return, the U.S. would grant parole of the U.S. Mafia’s “Capo de tutti Capo,” Charles Salvatore Lucania, better known as “Lucky” Luciano.

The “deal” was arranged by Assistant New York D.A. Murray Gurfein, who went on to become an OSS colonel in Europe. It wouldn’t be the last time when the U.S. got “in bed with the devil” to further the war effort.

 

Tragedy at Vercours

Shortly after D-Day, the French Resistance swung into high gear. They blew up bridges, rail lines and roads, cut telephone and telegraph lines, destroyed power stations and cables, thoroughly disorganizing German troop movements and generally made life miserable for the Wehrmacht-Heer (German Army).

But in some cases, excited at the prospect of “liberation at last,” some of the Resistance leaders had trouble controlling their impatience for action. In some cases, patriotic fever got the better of prudence. Overriding the advice of their SOE advisors, who counseled guerilla tactics and avoidance of pitched battles with the better armed and more numerous Wehrmacht-Heer, they ambushed large German troop concentrations. The results were disastrous for the brave men and women of the FFI (Free French.

Such was the case at Vercours, a mountainous plateau surrounded by many cliffs, ridges and valleys situated in central France.

Following instructions from de Gaulle, Francois Huet, the group commander, assembled some 4000 Resistance fighters in Vercours to assist the Allies in slowing down German reinforcements on their way to the battlefront in Normandy. Emboldened by news of D-Day and the real prospect of French liberation, he was determined to inflict intense punishment on the occupiers.

Francis Cammaerts (code name: ‘Roger’), Huets’ SOE advisor, counseled caution. “François, you cannot win a pitched battle with these Germans. They have more men, more experienced men and more firepower than you do. We need to operate in small units. Be like ‘mosquitoes’ – harassing their troop convoys, disrupting their communications, hit them and run, but avoiding heavy engagements.”

Huet replied, “Roger, you have never been under occupation. You have never seen your friends lined up against a wall and shot. You have never seen families loaded into railroad cattle cars and hauled off to God know where. You have never had your house ransacked, your valuables stolen and your business stolen from you by rough, crude soldiers. The tables are turning on these bastards and I’m going to help tip it over!”

‘Roger’ let out a deep breath and shook his head. “They’re going to have their head handed to them,” he thought.

Alerted to the presence of so many Resistance fighters, General Karl Pflaum assembled the 157.Reserve Division, a large force of between 10,000 and 20,000 soldiers, supported by about 500 of the hated French Milice (a French collaborationist paramilitary unit).

The Resistance force appealed to the French agencies in London for arms and heavy weapons, but nothing was forthcoming.

The men and women of the Resistance under Francois Huet hoisted the French Tricolor, to be clearly seen by the enemy’s HQ at Grenoble, sang the Marseillaise and proclaimed the area “The Free Republic of Vercours.”

General Pflaum was not moved. He slung a noose around the entire camp and sent his Division on a rampage. Supported by heavy artillery and Luftwaffe bombers, they roared through the area in an all-out attack. All buildings were burned to the ground. Hospitals were burned with patients still in them. They shot everyone on sight and hung their bodies on meat hooks in butcher shops. Females were raped regardless of age. Houses were set on fire with entire families inside.

While the SOE men organized an escape of some of the Maquis, the Germans turned Vercours into a slaughterhouse. The fight raged for three weeks. The air support promised from Algiers never arrived. The Resistance in that area fought bravely until the bitter end when the Germans pulled out to counter the Allied landings in the south of France. They left behind innumerable casualties including 639 FFI fighters and at least 200 civilians KIA. FFI fought heroically and with valor, but it was a disaster.

Roger’ managed to escape the “hell of Vercours”, was later captured by the Gestapo, tortured and condemned to death. A Resistance leader bribed a prison guard, and ‘Roger’ had a new lease on life. He made his way back to England and participated other behind-the-lines action.

 

Top Secret Rosies

In 1942, a group of brighter-than-bright women with a flair for mathematics were recruited by the U.S. Army’s Philadelphia Computing Section at the University of Pennsylvania to develop a system of complex mathematical formulas to determine accurate artillery shell trajectories and bomb drop points for the USAAF’s Norden bombsight.

Known as “computers,” in an age when that term referred to human beings, not machines, they “crunched” numbers using ordinary adding machines and a cumbersome device known as a “Bush Differential Analyzer,” a 30-foot-long mechanical calculating machine.

Working sometimes sixteen hours a day and under top-secret conditions, these women developed specialized equations to solve ballistical problems of landing an artillery shell on a hidden target or dropping a bomb from a high-flying aircraft. Success required correct trajectories, drop points, elevation angles and muzzle velocities. This information was translated into small booklets for distribution to USAAF bombardiers and U.S. Army artillery units.

“Rosie the Riveter” in the plants and factories may have built the machines of war, but a small group of math-savvy, top secret “Rosies” working in anonymity, help make those weapons win the war.

After the war, some of these women went on to help develop the Electronic Numerical Integrator and Computer, or ENIAC, the first electronic computer.