In their 80s, WWII vets struggle to tell it all
By RUKMINI CALLIMACHI
Associated Press writer
VANCOUVER, Wash. - For 10 torturous days in 1943, Peter Chelemedos sailed a lifeboat across the open sea, desperately trying to find a sliver of land.
His ship, carrying war supplies, had been torpedoed in the middle of the Atlantic. When no one came to the rescue, the crew set off in tiny lifeboats, sailing 1,000 miles until they hit Barbados, their scalps singed by the tropical sun. "The men used anything - handkerchiefs, undershirts. Even torn cuffs from their trousers to make coverings for their heads,'' he said.
Grasping the book he wrote about his time in the merchant marines, Chelemedos, 82, braved the far milder Washington sun to share this and other memories with other World War II veterans gathered here this weekend to mark the 60th anniversary of the end of the war.
Sixteen million Americans served in World War II, and while a staggering 400,000 died in the conflict, far more returned home to lead full and productive lives. Now, the majority are pushing 80. Officials at Arlington National Cemetery estimate they are dying on the order of 1,200 a day, making large gatherings like this one among the last.
"This is it,'' said Mark Dewey, 49, a member of a local World War II historical reenactment society who was moved to tears by the stories he heard during the first two days of the reunion. "These guys are 80 years old. You've seen how they're getting around - walkers, oxygen tanks, wheel chairs.''
As the end draws near, many of the veterans spoke of the urgency of telling their stories - either for the first time, or else in greater detail than before.
"It means more to me to talk about it now,'' said Jack Sherman, 81, of Bend, Ore., who fought in the Battle of the Bulge, the largest land battle in American history, drawing in more than 500,000 U.S. troops between Dec. 16, 1944 and Jan. 25, 1945.
For years, his son - who died at the age of 46 in 1993 - begged Sherman to speak about the war. "He said ÔDad, please make a tape or something,''' recalls Sherman. "I told him ÔShut up' and ÔBack off.' I wouldn't do it until he got ill and his kidneys failed him,'' he said, suddenly choked with emotion.
Now, even as his wife coaxed him to take a break for dinner, Sherman seemed eager to talk, recalling how during the duration of the battle he could not take off his boots, having seen several soldiers die after they removed their shoes. Their feet, aching from frost bite swelled to twice or three times their size, making it impossible to put their boots back on. "In the winter, without boots in the snow, you die,'' he said.
Norman Swanson, 80, a prisoner of war who spent two years behind enemy lines in Japan, spoke about his ordeal too, often glossing over the most painful parts. Asked to elaborate, he would occasionally pause to regain his composure, holding a pole to steady himself inside the POW tent.
He was a burly 16-year-old from Hood River, Ore., weighing 190 pounds when the Japanese captured Wake Island on Dec. 23, 1941, he said. He had gone to the island earlier that year to follow his brother as a carpenter's apprentice, hoping to earn a few bucks.
Some soldiers dreamt of women, he said. But for the 1,600 men taken to the hard labor camp in Shanghai, where they were put to work hauling dirt, it was food they thought about. After a while, their stomachs shrank so much, that it became dangerous to eat more than a small portion: "Once in a while, a guy would have a chance to get into the guards' barracks and pig out. Then, they'd die. Their bodies couldn't take it,''
After an hour of speaking, he cut himself off, saying: "This is the longest I've ever talked about this.'' Then softening, he said: "I want to document this.''
For Seattle-based Peter Chelemedos, it was in a poetry class at the local senior center that he began to explore the extraordinary events of Jan. 27, 1943.
"We were asked to write a poem about a sunny day,'' he said.
For some that might have evoked a summer outing. For him, it brought back the 10 days he spent sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with the other men in the cramped lifeboat, his body tingling under the blazing sun.
© 2005 Lee Enterprises