"The difficult we do at once, the impossible takes a little longer."

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Off to the Big Show

Upon arrival at Saipan they began to prepare for their part of the "invasion" of the Japanese homeland as a shore party with the 2nd Marines Division for the occupation of Nagasaki. During their brief stay at this mudhole of the Marianas, they were equipped for a full-scale invasion and lectured on the Japanese language.

Then came the welcome news to leave Saipan and all of its rain, mud and mosquitoes. They poured into the huge maws of the LSTs and LSMs, struggling through narrow passageways and up steep ladders with their packs, bedrolls, seabags, handbags, rifles and cots. Sleeping space for about half of the 250-300 men aboard each LST resulted in their pitching tents on the spacious main decks -- between the bulldozers and other heavy equipment. All ships set sail for Nippon on September 17 and 18th.

The "blackout" was lifted! For the first time they traveled with all lights blaring, and the smoking lamp lit 24 hours a day. They even had movies! The chow was good, and everyone was happy. All except those with 44 points, of course!

Early September 24, the "sacred soil of Japan" became visible to the starboard. Later that morning, their ships pointed shoreward. A feeling of uneasiness and apprehension stole over them only to be dispelled at the sight of the U.S. Navy planes lazily flying overhead. Then they joined a fleet of destroyers and an aircraft carrier at anchor in the wide bay and awaited orders to move into Nagasaki harbor. They stared at the mountains rising row on row, ribbed and covered with timber, broken by an occasional terraced farm. There was no sign of activity ashore. That afternoon, they headed into the harbor, and soon the shattered city of Nagasaki lay stretched out before them.

The land-locked harbor was swarming with ships flying the Stars and Stripes. Japanese ferry boats, crammed with curious, amazed civilians, chugged across the harbor. Masts of sunken vessels broke the surface of the water. Along the shore were stark reminders of visits of our Air Force before the war's end. Huge factory buildings lay in ruins, their frameworks left standing among the rubble. Only the quaint little ramshackle houses, gray from lack of paint, looked unharmed in their precarious perches on the hillsides.

Their ships nosed into improvised landings on both sides of the harbor to belch forth men and equipment to the bewilderment of the population. Their heavy equipment rolled through streets to an area designated as their compound. Communication lines were strung along the waterfront. After the inevitable delay that accompanies any movement they made, they boarded trucks and headed for their billeting area, passing through gutted streets, teeming with Japanese civilians and soldiers, large factory districts, and at last into the huge Mitsubishi ship yards, or rather what was left of them.

They were quartered in a large, three-story factory building, comparatively undamaged except for sections of the roof ripped away by concussion. Twelve hour shifts, set immediately, completed in record time the unloading of cargo vessels, APAs, and LSTs. Then the task of making the building habitable was begun. With the help of a few native laborers, huge trash piles disappeared; gear was stowed; water and food supplies arranged. Heads were constructed and sanitation improved; the galley supplied hot food to replace the "C" rations; the compound was organized; offices and sick bay set up; movies were started; and the first Armed Forces newspaper in Nagasaki was printed by the 43rd. In spite of the improvements, the building was uncomfortable and unhealthy, so they were moved to a better building a short distance away where in due time facilities for the welfare and comfort of all hands appeared.

As the urgent tasks of their operation were completed, work began to slacken a bit and they had time to relax and study more closely their surroundings and get acquainted with the people of Nagasaki. They found that the children were the most friendly, and in a short time they were swarming all about, hands outstretched for candy and gum. When the Mitsubishi workers filed past their building twice daily, they stuck their heads out of the windows or stood along the streets whistling at the girls. Liberty barges took them across the bay to the business district of the city, where they sauntered through small shops buying souvenirs to take home with them. Ah, home sweet home!

The lucky guys with 44 points began to "sweat out" transportation back to the USA, where they were to receive their discharges, while the rest of the battalion impatiently awaited rotation.

Thus, on October 17, 1945 - the third anniversary of their arrival in Davisville - this history of the 43rd was concluded. It was three years that they would never forget, and although they may rant and rave and gripe about the Navy, there will be few who won't look back on their hitch in the service with fond recollections.