The 75th anniversary of S-Day, Jan. 9, 1945, passed this year with little of the media coverage given D-day. Yet it involved the landing of some 203,600 troops on a 20-mile stretch of beaches on Lingayen Gulf in northern Luzon, Philippines.
The beach landing on S-Day was not opposed in the same way as was D-day. Instead, kamikaze attacks prior to the landing sunk 24 ships and damaged 67 others in the sea convoy. The enemy army did not contest the landing, but chose to fight farther inland from fortified jungle caves and mountain bunkers along the path to Manila.
Lingayen does not have the name recognition of beaches named Omaha, Utah, Gold, Juno or Sword. However, the men and women at war in the Pacific deserve the same honors as their counterparts fighting in Europe.
In upcoming months there will be other 75th anniversaries of events like Iwo Jima in February and Okinawa in April. Recalling these events will give us all two important opportunities: honor those who served, and reflect on the costs and consequences of that era.
The story of S-Day is personal for our family and perhaps for others in the readership area. Don, Martin, and Sim knew the hardships of Luzon.
S-Day was memorable for Uncle Don, a Californian who enlisted in July 1944, and who is the namesake for my wife. His unit, the 27th Infantry Regiment, came ashore on the 9th and for months battled south toward Manila. On April 5, 1945 he was mortally wounded by artillery fire.
He was the one son among the six brothers who served in Europe and the Pacific who did not return home. He is buried in the American Military Cemetery in Manila, a memorial place for over 17,000 Americans and a place second in size to Arlington National Cemetery.
Uncle Martin served in the Army Air Corps in the 345th Bomber Group, participating in key battles on Leyte and Mindoro that led up to S-Day. His memoirs speak of bombing runs to retake strategic Clark Field and provide air support for advancing ground troops.
When lack of fuel temporally grounded his B-25s, he grieved that he could not help his comrades and knew that his brother-in-law was “out there somewhere.” Martin came home, but was sobered and quiet about his experiences.
My Dad, an Army captain, commanded a portable surgical hospital, serving in New Guinea, the Luzon battles, and other places in the Philippines. At one point his unit was attached to an infantry group in Luzon that marched five days in rugged terrain to encircle the enemy in the battle of Zig Zag Pass. His unit treated 104 casualties from this particular battle. Although 100 survived, as a physician, he grieved the four he “lost” and felt he could have saved in a modern hospital.
He rarely spoke of his experiences and primarily to me. I believe that battle horrors troubled his mind throughout his life and showed pointedly in his last weeks of his life in 2006 when he saw the news reports from Iraq of soldiers wounded by IEDs.
He wrote me of his concern about providing rapid medical care – applying the kind of wound management lessons he learned in the Philippines to help soldiers survive. His also wished to make sure that the lessons of the great human costs of WW II were not forgotten.
Winston Churchill, in a 1948 speech to the House of Commons, paraphrased a quote from George Santayana, “Those who fail to learn from history are condemned to repeat it.”
Dad would be pleased that you read this column and reflected on the lessons of history.
