By Don Murtha
Dec. 7, 1941 is as vague in the minds of most of those born after World War II as is Bunker Hill, Shiloh or Gettysburg.
But there are a few who remember clearly the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.
Vince Gersch of Mount Angel is one of those few remaining WWII veterans who knows personally of the battles in the Pacific. He wears five battle stars from the war, starting first at Guadalcanal, where America drew a line in the sand and the Japanese aggression went no further.
It seems a paradox Japan is one of America’s closest and friendliest allies today, but in 1942 the nations were at each others throats in one of America’s bloodiest wars. At the time many Americans feared and hated Japan with cold malice. Fear consumed America, what with Japanese submarines shelling the Oregon coast and German submarines sinking ships just outside New York harbor.
Vince was born Dec. 17, 1921 on the family farm about eight miles up Crooked Finger Road from Scotts Mills. He attended a one-room school there that is now a private home. He graduated from Silverton High School and went to work as a logger.
Vince responded not long after the Japanese attack and joined the Marines. He went through Marine Corps boot camp in 1942 and was sent on to North Island Air Base at San Diego to train as a bomber pilot.
When war broke out, America’s fighting force was behind.
“We needed everything, “Vince said.
To fill the needs of the military, America started a rationing program. The government rationed almost every civilian commodity: meat, sugar, tobacco, tires, gasoline, hardware, coffee and almost anything else that was not essential.
Vince completed his flight training and was sent immediately to Guadalcanal, where the Marines were in a bloody fight with the Japanese. The Marines had captured an airstrip the Japanese were building and named it Henderson Field. The Japanese intended to cut the supply line from America to Australia to choke off our Australian allies.
“Guadalcanal was a hell hole,” said Vince. “The jungle was so thick you couldn’t see 20 feet. There was malaria, bugs and crocodiles, not to speak of the Japanese. It was stifling hot and when the Japanese were bombing and shelling us it was like an earthquake.
The remote jungle emergency medical relief was primitive. Medical teams on Guadalcanal had to improvise. Blood transfusions were done when and where possible.
“I gave a transfusion directly to another guy, directly from me to him,” Vince recalled. “I wasn’t the only one who gave like that. There were many others.”
Japanese soldiers were taught there was no word for “surrender.” They gave no quarter and took no prisoners.
Vince flew the Douglas Dauntless. The Navy’s designation was SBD.
“Slow-But-Deadly, we called it and it was. With machine guns in the wings and nose and the tail gunner and bombs, we were pretty awesome,” he said. “And with a fighter escort we had a lot of fire power.”
The pilot would dive at his target, almost straight down, aiming through a site above the instrument panel.
“People think it was easy to hit the target, but they (the Japanese) were shooting at us. When a three or five-inch anti-aircraft shell goes off near you, it throws you off,” he said, “And it was scary as hell.”
More than once, Vince returned with holes in his plane.
“I came back with holes in the cockpit and there would be blood all over the cockpit,” he recalled.
On one flight a bullet grazed his head, but it didn’t enter the bone. He was treated for the wound and was soon back in his airplane. Then, on a later flight, he returned with shrapnel wounds in his leg. While he was healing in the hospital on Guadalcanal, he came down with his first of many bouts of malaria.
From Guadalcanal, he was sent to a hospital in New Zealand.
“When I came to in New Zealand, there was a nurse and I heard her say, ‘Just like a baby.’ Until then I thought I was a man,” he said.
From New Zealand, Vince was sent to a hospital in Hawaii. There he saw Bob Hope and his company. Ted Williams, the baseball star, who was in the Marines at the time, gave Vince an autographed baseball.
“I don’t know what happened to that ball, but I think it would be worth a lot today,” he said.
From Hawaii, Vince was sent to a Navy hospital in California still suffering from his wound and malaria.
“They said the malaria would hit me about every three months, and sure enough, just like clockwork, about every three months I’d have another attack,” he said, “Then I got a really bad one, and I thought I was going to die. But, after that I never had any more.”
Vince was sent home, but still too weak to go alone. So the Navy sent a medical corpsman with him for his leave and they returned to Portland to visit his family.
When his leave was up and he was well, the Marine Corps gave him the option to stay in the states.
“I didn’t want to stay home. I wanted to go back to the fight,” he said. “When it’s your country you’re fighting for you do it. You bet your life.”
Vince crossed the Pacific in the island-to-island campaign against the enemy. His last action was at the battle of Okinawa.
When the war ended in 1945, Vince had enough credits to be sent home. An officer became aware of his service credits and said “Get the man out of here,” Vince recalled.
“I got on a plane and flew home,” he said.
“I was discharged and got my mustering-out pay. It was a lot. There was no place to spend it in the jungle,” he said.
“Coming back to civilian life was different and I wondered, ‘what do I do now’” he said.
He had job offers as a logger, but they didn’t interest him. Eventually he earned his commercial pilot’s license and joined Western Airlines as a pilot. The airlines didn’t pay much at that time, so he left.
He went to work for the US Post Office, first in Holllywood, Calif., then in Portland, where he retired. He bought a motor home and traveled.
Now, at age 89, he and his wife live in Mount Angel Towers.
