The father of one of my closest friends fought at Guadalcanal. Back in the 70s, we never knew because he never shared anything. All his son knew was he was in WWII. That is until near his death a few years back. He opened up to his son and told his story.
He was drafted into the Americal Division of the army. This is the division that relieved the Marines at Guadalcanal. There was still much fighting to do.
He won the bronze star for pulling the firing pin on his machine gun after his position was overrun one night by Japanese. All were killed but him and his training kicked in, he pulled the pin and ran for his life.
His best buddy was shot in another engagement and bleed out in his arms crying for his mother...he as 18 years old.
The conditions were horrible. Wet, hot, full of insects.
They would watch the aerial combat above their position and cheer on American pilots, who lost more than they won.
When the war was over he came home and promised himself he would never get on another boat or plane. He never did. Married his childhood sweetheart and had two kids. Worked in an auto shop and always refused promotions. He was very quiet and lived a simple life. No doubt experiencing hell at 18 years of age had something to do with all that.
