The accounts in the contents of my father’s diaries expose the raw truth about the sacrifices, trauma, and the intense drive that drove our soldiers to fight and to win World War II. My father realized our God-given freedoms were being threatened and in harm’s way. I’ve heard him say: “There was a mission at hand and any sacrifices I made were all worth the fight to save this country from all the evil that was trying to overtake us.”

He was also very explicit about how he felt toward those enemies. Some excerpts and entries in his diaries and letters are not politically correct. I did not soften any of his descriptions. Our fighting men and women witnessed many horrific actions committed against their fellow soldiers. My father had no sympathy or respect for the enemies he considered to be heathens. I was not aware until I read his journals that he took part in four major battles in the Philippines (the battles of Papus, Luzon, New Guinea, and Southern Philippines). He received a Bronze Star and was on a ship that was involved in one of the greatest enemy air attacks in the Southwest Pacific (SWPC). His duties provided vital radio communication channels required by General Headquarters.

I’ve sorted through hundreds of old photographs and have tried to correctly match them up with the entries mentioned. Since most of his black-and-white snapshots were not marked, there is a chance some have been mismatched. With this said, all the entries make a statement as to what the ravages of this war were all about.

My parents were married on June 15, 1941. Eight months later my father enlisted and was inducted into the Army on February 24, 1942. He shipped overseas from Angel Island (California) in September of that same year. From this point on my parents would wait five long years before celebrating their wedding anniversary together. My father’s letters to my mother were loving and beautiful. And my mother’s return letters reflect how much she, too, loved and missed him.

As a child I knew about the diaries. However, I never saw them or knew where they were kept. The only thing my father shared with me about his time in the U.S. Army was a sit-down with a world globe, and he would show me the progression of his travels from Fort Des Moines (Des Moines, Iowa) to Camp Crowder (Missouri) to Tyler (Texas) to Angel Island (California) and from there his routes overseas.

This mission was quite a journey for me. I became aware of the extreme loneliness, the unhealthy living conditions, sometimes food not fit to be consumed, and going months without mail service.

I would love to have one moment with my father, who passed away in 1998, to tell him how much I now understand what he went through, and to say: “THANK YOU!”