Steps on My Journey to the 11^th Airborne and the Occupation of Japan

By William A. Windrum

It was hot during the summer of 1939 in Prince Albert, Northern Saskatchewan. I’d been sleeping on the front porch where it cooled off at night. One morning, I was awakened by a voice shouting down the street, about 6 A.M. It was a newsboy shouting, “Extra, extra, war is declared.” I was 14 years old. I raced in with the paper to waken my father who had been a fighter pilot in WWI with the Royal Naval Air Service and was now a bush pilot flying into northern settlements.

Four years later as I was finishing high school, I wanted to join up, preferably in the RCAF. My father wanted me to take a year of premed first, saying I would be more likely to go back to the university when I got out. I respected his advice and judgment and in September 1943 I enrolled in Regina College, University of Saskatchewan. By May 1944, it looked as if the war would go on for years so I elected to take the second year and complete the premed-predent course. In June came D-Day and the invasion of Normandy. Coming out of school in May 1945, I knew that Canada was full of fully trained pilots and aircrew. Not knowing how much of a role Canada might play in the war in the Pacific, I judged that the USA was the place to be. I hitchhiked to the west coast and then south to Seattle to try the US Army.

The young lady receptionist at the draft board said they would welcome citizens of any country except Japan, Germany and Italy. You’re all cannon fodder as she put it. So I signed up for the draft and asked for immediate induction. But immediate didn’t mean tomorrow and lacking any papers that would let me work in the states, I returned to the border and went to work as an electrician’s helper at a new sawmill being constructed while I waited for my induction date of 9 September 1945. While I was waiting the atom bombs fell.

In due course, I hitchhiked back to the border and showed them my draft call and was turned down for entry because I had no papers and thus could only stay in the states for 29 days. Back in Canada, I phoned my mother and asked her to wire me $50.00. With money in my pocket and a train ticket, I rode across the line to “visit my grandmother,” who really did live in Boulder, Colorado.

On the ninth of September 1945, I became Pvt. William A. Windrum 39496349 at Ft. Lewis, Washington. After basic training, because of my premed training, I was sent to Ft. Sam Houston, Texas to the Medical Department Enlisted Technician School.

I discovered that as a soldier in the US Army, I was exempt from the five-year waiting period to become a US citizen. When I filed the papers, it was discovered that there was no record of me having entered the country. But not to worry. I was warned not to go back to Canada on leave and was paroled to my commanding officer. In due course the papers appeared and I traveled to Nuevo Laredo on the Mexican border, reported in on the US side, walked across the bridge to Mexico, turned around and walked back and was recorded as having legally entered the United States. With about 100 other persons on the 18^th of April 1946, I swore allegiance to the USA and became an American citizen.

I soon discovered that in the medical corps if you weren’t a doctor there wasn’t a lot of upward mobility, particularly into the commissioned ranks. So I applied for infantry OCS at Ft. Benning, GA. Three months went by and nothing had happened. The Army initiated a program to encourage draftees to sign up for two years. The reward for doing so was a one grade promotion and two weeks leave. Since I wasn’t on the way to OCS, I went to sign up for the program. The 1^st Sgt. Was quite upset, perhaps furious. He said, “Windrum when you applied for OCS you agreed to serve for two years.” I said, “But Sgt., I’m not getting OCS, I know my rights, sign me up.” The Sgt. must have had terrific connections because about three hours later I was told to report to the 1^st Sgt. He said, “Windrum, do you want to go on leave or do you want to go to OCS?” I said, “Sgt. I’ll take OCS.” Within 48 hours I was on the train to Ft. Benning and Infantry Officer Class Number 544. There, among other things, I learned to sing:

Far above the Chattahoochee,

By the Upatoi,

Stands our noble Alma Mater,

Benning’s School for Boys.

Follow me with map and template,

Solving problem ten,

Meet me here in twenty minutes,

Hail, all hail, Fort Ben.

Do your pushups, plan your mission,

Read your I.D.R.,

Bridge the vale of indecision,

Get that Golden Bar.

Onward ever, backward never,

Follow me and die,

To the Port of Embarkation,

Next of kin, goodbye.

Forty percent of us completed the nearly four-month course and on the 9^th of December 1946, along with 110 other successful officer candidates, I became 2^nd Lt. W.A. Windrum 01341492.

The port of embarkation for 100 of the graduating class was Camp Stoneman, CA near San Francisco. Our destination was AFPAC Yokohama. Date to report was 3^rd January 1947, our ship, the General Wiegel. The great circle route to Japan took us up towards the Aleutian Islands. Winter storms and a heaving ship took its toll at meal times. Apples and oranges were rolling back and forth across the mess floor and cream would drip out of the spouts of pitchers. The waiters wet the tablecloths to keep the plates from sliding and turning upside down into the lap of unsuspecting diners.

At night there were far to many junior officers to watch the movie in the lounge so we joined the troops out on deck. The screen was attached to a mast. Wind driven snow was coming in horizontally and the sound was difficult to hear above the wind noise. Some of us had a ball walking the central passageway below decks toward the bow. You’d be alternately pushed hard down and then the floor would fall away and you’d be in free fall. But all good things must come to an end and by 29^th January 1947 we were in the 4^th Replacement Depot or Repple Depple. It was a former Japanese officer training establishment and was very sparse. Heat was from a small US Army potbelly stove. Wash up was outside and the wastewater poured on to the floor and ran back across your feet to a central drain in the middle of the room. By the 2^nd February, I was on the train to Osaka and the 25^th Division. The bomb damage to Osaka was awesome. A small central group of buildings used by Division HQ was untouched and everything else was a wasteland with shells of buildings without windows or roofs. Among the ruins, small sheet-metal shanties had sprung up with tiny gardens of vegetables in any available space. Most transportation was by cart, bicycle and an occasional bus, truck or car with a charcoal burner that looked like a hot water tank attached to the rear bumper. Drivers stopped frequently to mess around with the charcoal bits.

By February 8^th, I was assigned to H Co. 27^th Inf. Regt. (wolfhounds). All units in Japan were under strength and because of the threat from the Soviet Union under Stalin, which was now our enemy instead of our ally, H and M Companies were designated as “Alert Companies.” Every unit in I Corps had to contribute a number of soldiers to get them up to full strength. This gave the unit commanders the opportunity to get rid of anyone that they felt weren’t pulling their weight. H and M Companies were sent to an old Japanese school compound in nearby Wakayama to concentrate on heavy weapons training.

In due course I drew Duty Officer. One of my duties was to conduct bed check. I found the barracks were nearly empty. I asked the Corporal of the Guard and he said they were all sleeping with their Korbitos. So I said show me. We drove to a nearby house and I asked the Mamasan if there were soldiers there. Shortly, I was staring at about a half dozen half dressed soldiers who ranged in rank from a Tech. Sgt. down to a Corporal. As I looked at them, I wondered how the companies were going to function with this number of senior non-coms in the stockade. Finally the Corporal said, “What do you want us to do Lieutenant?” I replied, “Go back to bed, forget that you ever saw me here tonight.” The Corporal of the Guard and I turned and left. Shortly after this the Regt. took H and M Companies back to the Regimental area.

In April 1947, the first Japanese elections under the occupation were to be held. Five separate elections a week apart for various local and national assemblies. For the first time women would have the right to vote. Teams comprising a junior officer or senior NCO, an interpreter, jeeps and drivers were set up to monitor the voting and then counting of the ballots the next day. I was the Liaison Officer for setting up the teams for the 27^th Inf., so I selected the area farthest away for my team and that of 2^nd Lt. John Mawn. We had to take our jeeps in by train so it wasn’t practical to return to Regt. between elections. We were billeted at a hill top hotel in Katsuura, a fishing village south of Wakayama. We worked the day of voting and the day of counting and then loafed for the next five days. The area was out in the boondocks far enough that we were the first occidental people many of the locals had seen. Shortly after taking up residence at the hotel, my jeep driver and interpreter turned up with the jeep trailer filled with crates of langouste (like lobsters without claws) and a tuna fish so big that it extended beyond both sides of the jeep. I said, “For heaven’s sake, where did these come from,” and the driver replied, “Presento Lieutenant.” I said, “Presento?” And he said, “Yeah, the fishermen asked what were the two lieutenants doing at the hotel on the hill so I told them you were here to investigate black market activities on the part of the fishermen, so presento.” We shared the presento with everyone else in the hotel so refrigeration wasn’t a problem.

Everywhere we went the school children clustered around our jeep, waved to us as we passed by and shouted ALLO, OK, GOODA BYE. In turn, we handed out anything sweet from our D ration cans including the disc of cereal with sugar added. One day as we were going through a village to one of the polling places on our list, a small boy, perhaps about five years old ran out from a narrow space between two houses. He was looking over his shoulder and laughing at the boys chasing him so he didn’t see the jeep. He ran into the side of the front wheel and fortunately bounced off so the rear wheel didn’t pass over him. He was lying in the dirt unconscious. I quickly checked him for pulse, respiration and arms and legs integrity. Mindful of the possibility of spinal injury, I carefully slid my arm up his back and cupped his head in my hand so his head and neck couldn’t move in relation to his body. I climbed into the jeep and asked the interpreter to get a bystander to jump in and direct us to the hospital. A doctor quickly took charge of the boy and shortly reported that he was OK. He must have struck his head on the jeep fender, knocking him out. The next day, we took some treats to him at his home and met his mother who was grateful for our quick response to get him to medical care.

Over the five weeks of our stay in the Katsuura region we noticed an increasingly friendly response to us by the locals. Village elders supervising the elections would invite us to have tea with them. Near the end, the local Forest Industry Association invited us to a banquet with their members. Great party, lots of toasts with Sake. A couple of the Japanese guests passed out and fell over backwards. Their comrades thought it was hilarious and grabbing their ankles, dragged them off down the hall to their beds. Bet they had a headache the next morning from going down the steps: bump-bump-bump.

Shortly after returning to Regt., a number of us were sent to the Fujino-Susono maneuver area to be umpires for the 24^th Division units who were war gaming it. It was there that we learned what Close Air Support was all about when planes from the 5^th Air Force came over just above our tents.

During the summer of 1947, I requested a transfer to the 11^th Airborne Division in northern Honshu. 2^nd lieutenants were in short supply everywhere. After my request came back from higher headquarters, a friend in the adjutants office called me in to see it. There were a number of endorsements attached to my request:

2^nd Bn Hq recommended disapproval

27^th Inf Regt Hq recommended disapproval

25^th Division Hq recommended disapproval

1^st Corps Hq recommended disapproval

8^th Army Hq said – Approved, a replacement officer will be provided when available.

On the 10^th Sept. 1947, I was on the train heading north. The train moved through Osaka at what seemed like a crawl for an hour. We passed endless rows of destroyed one story, sheet metal clad factories; walls and roofs were mostly missing. Long rows of machine tools, lathes, etc. were rusting away. I’d apparently reached the 11^th Airborne Div. Rear by Sept. 11^th. I’m guessing that was Sendai. On the 13^th Sept., I’d been assigned to the 511^th P.I.R. at Hachinohe (Camp Haugen). I reported in to Col. Reynolds Condon and was impressed when he told me that he expected his officers to be efficient, which meant that we were to accomplish our duties during working hours. He didn’t want to find us at our desk at night and he did expect us to be at the Officer’s Club having a drink and socializing with the other officers before dinner. I could see that this was going to be an outfit that I could identify with.

My first assignment at the 511^th was to HQ & HQ Co with PDY Asst Demo Plat Comdr (15^th Sept.).  26^th Sept. 1947 – Orders to report to 11^th Airborne Div Training School for purpose of pursuing course in parachute training with class 40 commencing 29 Sept. 1947. Some of the other 511^th soldiers who were also to take this course had been waiting since January of 1947, so my timing was impeccable. On the morning of Wed. 8^th of October 1947, we made our fifth jump and were presented our wings by Lt. Col. O’Kane at 1600 hours. A proud bunch I can tell you.

On the 24^th Oct. 1947, I was appointed the Asst. Provost Marshall in addition to other duties. The Provost Marshall asked me to attend a meeting he was having with some Japanese businessmen who had contracted to clean out our toilet holding tanks. They had intended the contents to become fertilizer and were disconcerted when they found out we used cellulose based toilet paper instead of rice paper. Seems it didn’t disintegrate. Another event of interest took place when a prisoner in the stockade went berserk one evening. When I talked to him I found out that he had been high on marijuana which he discovered grew wild in Japan and he could collect it by reaching down and stripping the leaves off the plants during the morning march. He dried the leaves under his mattress on sheets of newspaper. We had quite a discussion about its effects. I’d heard of loco weed when I was growing up on the prairie. He felt certain that loco weed was the same family, and maybe the same species.

In December, I went back to the Airborne Training Center for glider training and won my wings on 20^th December. The particular specimen awarded to me was made of sterling silver by N.S. Meyer Inc., New York. It was exceptional in its three dimensional treatment. The gliders nose protruded much more than usual. It can also be recognized by the cutout of the small rectangle bounded by the wheels, the underside of the fuselage and the wing. Those made by all other manufacturers don’t have this rectangle cut out. I’ve looked at hundreds of the glider wings over the years and only found one other.

In January 1948, 2^nd Lt. Jack Warren and I went on leave to Shanghai, China. On the 9^th of February shortly after returning from leave, I was placed on detached service with Special Troops and sent to the Airborne Training Center to become part of the cadre. By the 12^th of March, I’d settled into the job of Commissary Sales Officer. Lt. Col. Roy Brooks had obtained permission to open a base commissary for the Airborne and Air Force families who previously had to drive for an hour each way to Sendai to purchase groceries and other supplies. It was the best job I ever had in the Army. I was left on my own to run it and was responsible directly to the Base Commander. By 13 August 1948, I was promoted to 1^st Lieutenant.

Sometime during 1948, the incidence of venereal disease in the division began to rise and orders came down from above regarding fraternization and imposing a penalty on those who contracted any venereal disease. I can’t recall the penalty for enlisted men, but for officers it was a discharge without honor. Capt. Felix Stanley was the Company Commander of the troops at the jump school and I remember him saying, “These young fellows want to fuck or fight and who wants a whole company full of fighters.” Most young officers were in the age group where the eruption of wisdom teeth was common. Frequently infection would start around partly erupted tissue impacted third molars. The treatment of choice with Sulfa was the same treatment as that for Gonorrhea and one of the jokes making the rounds was that there would likely be an increase in the incidence of impacted third molars among junior officers. I never heard of anyone getting a discharge without honor, so something looked after us.

I must have been doing a good job as Commissary Sales Officer because as the division began to go home, Tokyo QM Depot did their darndest to get me to stay on with what was to be the Air Transportability School. I was promised glider pay, a promotion to Captain, and an extension of my time overseas beyond the usual two years. It was very tempting, but I wanted to stay with the 11^th Airborne and in the long run I wanted to go to medical or dental school.

The Airborne Training Center was a great place to be stationed. Tokyo and Yokohama was full of young American girls working for GHQ and the 8^th Army. They could catch a train just as they were getting off work on Friday and arrive in Sendai about 6:00 A.M. and be in the jump school in time for breakfast. Going back worked the same and they would arrive in Tokyo in time to go to work. Every Saturday night was party night and we’d have beach parties about 1/2 mile away. If we weren’t partying with American girls at the BOQ and Officer’s Club, about a dozen junior officers and NCOs were partying with our korbitos at our private island about 30 feet off the shore of Matsushima, halfway to Sendai. We rented and shared the home with Mamasan. She was the widow of the former political boss of Matsushima and had good connections. Like when the Division MPs notified the Japanese Police that they were going to conduct a raid. The police negotiated the small bridge with a jeep and trailer and loaded up our records and player, radio, clothes, beer and soft drinks, razors and toothbrushes and parked it behind the police station. After they had accompanied the MPs on the raid they drove the jeep and trailer back and put all our belongings back where they came from.

We were quite proud of our home away from home and I remember that someone came up with a small boat with a sail and someone else got a small outboard motor from Sears Roebuck. One morning we were all standing around outside having our morning coffee when we spotted two American officers and their wives coming up the path towards us. None of us had yet put on our shirts and our white “T” shirts had our last names stenciled on, but no rank. The Captain with us called “ATTENTION” and saluted while whispering out of the corner of his mouth, “Call me Private -------.” The visitors stopped and we could see it was the Commanding General of Ninth Corps and his aide. The general’s home was so close to our island that you could hit it with a stone. After exchanging a few pleasantries our visitors departed.

We were pretty well limited to one pay jump every three months. Some of the guys could get in an extra jump by a demonstration jump for the groups who had come to take the Air Transportability Course. One Saturday there was a demonstration jump to impress the young ladies from Tokyo. It was quite impressive when some of the jumpers, after their opening shock, took out rolls of toilet paper and holding one end let it unroll down the sky. I’d no warning of this or I’d have had my camera with me. I managed to give myself a Christmas present of three extra jumps in 1948 by taking the course in Advanced Airborne and Jumpmaster Subjects, completing it on December 25^th. There wasn’t any badge awarded but I was given a nice certificate to put on my den wall. For 50 years it rested in my footlocker, but lately I’ve grown nostalgic and can see it often now as I go in and out of the den. Alongside it are the certificates for Parachute Wings, Glider Wings and Air Transportability. Great times.

March 1949 saw those of us going home with the Division returned to our respective regiments. I was assigned to G Co, 511^th. April 1949 saw the third echelon of the division sail for home on the USAT General Blatchford, with stops in Hawaii and the Panama Canal zone. We were told that the first echelon got six days in Hawaii and three days in Panama. To the dismay of the locals, the troopers were party animals and the next group had only three days and one day respectively. When our turn came, we got part of one day in Hawaii and a few hours in Panama. We landed in New Orleans and headed off on leave.

14^th June 1949, back from leave and starting a game of musical chairs. First assigned to H Co. with PDY as Exec. Officer. Somewhere in there I was transferred to L Co. because on July 5^th, I was transferred from L Co. to Med Co. By 12 Sept., I was appointed Med Co. Commanding Officer. Less than a month later, Lee Perdlewitz who outranked me arrived and on 4 Oct., I became Mess, Supply and Motor Officer. 17^th Dec. I was transferred to Service Co. as Asst. Munitions Officer. 30^th Dec., I was back to HQ & HQ Co. with PDY Liaison Officer.

I realized that the Army was full of bright young lieutenants and not having gone to West Point that I’d be unlikely to make general. The educational provisions of the G.I. Bill were about to expire. It was an opportunity that I couldn’t afford to pass up. By Jan. 30^th 1950, I initiated a request for release from extended active duty to continue my education.

Things moved along quickly and at 0800 27^th Feb., I was at the 2118^th ASU Sep. Point and by 3^rd of March 1950, I was a civilian again. Soon I became a part time soldier when I moved to West Virginia to work while waiting to enter Murray State College near Ft. Campbell, KY. I joined the 398^th Parachute Inf. Regt. Of the 100^th Airborne Reserve Division, and that summer we had our two weeks summer training at Ft. Campbell. I made my 25^th and last parachute jump with them on the 18^th of August 1950.

Nothing that I’ve done in the 53 years since then has been as exciting. I treasure those years in the 11^th Airborne Division and the memory of the fine men with whom I associated with during those years. I remember a former trooper saying, “Only the quitters leave Airborne, for the rest of us its for life.” To that I say “Amen.”

About the Author:  After his discharge from the U.S. Army, William accomplished his goal and become a Dentist, graduating from Baylor University College of Denstry.  He currently lives with his wife Elizabeth in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.

Courtesy of “WINDS ALOFT” a quarterly publication of the 511^th PIR Association

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