By Way of Explanation
I started my diary 8th December 1941. Not because that is the day after Pearl Harbor, but because that was the day the 2nd Battalion 222 Field Artillery Regiment was scheduled to leave for the Oakland (California) Port of Embarkation and the Philippines Islands, code name “Plum.”
The attack on Pearl Harbor 7th December drastically altered the schedule but it was 3 days before new orders were issued. In the meantime, we left Camp San Luis Obispo on schedule, motored to San Francisco, crossed the Bay Bridge and spent 4 days at the Oakland Army Base waiting for new orders, unloading our equipment and moving out to a new assignment.
When this diary starts, I’m a gun Sgt in Btry “D”, 2nd Bn 222 FA Reg. 40th Division. When the army modernized the Infantry Division in early 1942 Btry “D” became Btry “A” 204 FA Bn-a separate FA battalion.
Btry “D” (which became Btry “A”) was a Utah National Guard unit federalized 3rd March 1941 and from Mt. Pleasant, Utah. It was still 65% men from in and around Mt. Pleasant on 8th December.
I don’t know how good an Army unit had to be to be sent to the Philippines fall of 1941. But I’ve always thought being selected to go 6 months after going on active duty was commendable recognition. However, after passing the GHQ tests and being selected, all our over age-in-grade officers were reassigned, one of whom was my father, Major Lee R. Christensen. We lost the officers’ who made us good.
The officers we lost went on to lead service units overseas. The Battalion, at the 204th, regrouped, lost many men to other services, OCS, Air Force, and Cadres but earned 5 battle stars in the ETO. (European Theatre of Operation.) By then they had modern equipment; radios, jeeps, machine guns and a 155 howitzer that was not a rusting relic of WWl.
Tuesday,
December 30, 1941
The caravan
headed south again at seven o’clock.
Near Pismo Beach we saw a battery of 155 mm rifles with muzzles pointed
out to sea. It gave one the impression
that maybe the U.S. was going to be invaded.
Those Japs certainly have scared someone.
We were met
outside L.A. by a police escort which took us in to North Hollywood. Our camp for the night. (I hope) is North Hollywood Playground. We erected pyramid tents to shelter us from
the California moonlight.
Streaking
through the air above us is the fastest interceptor plane in the world. It is the P 38. If we only had more of them in Manila, the
Japs would be doomed. This is the first
time we had seen one of our modern planes.
Wednesday,
December 31, 1941
For a place
publicized as the land of sunshine it has certainly been cold. A large number of men complained of sleeping
cold and during most of the day we have worn our overcoats.
It has been
an uneventful day. Pay day usually falls
on the last day of the months but today can’t even claim that distinction. There has been no work today, nothing. No passes are being issued. Tonight we are told to take off only our
shoes. I would think if we’ve got any
Navy at all we shouldn’t fear a Jap invasion.
I think it’s merely a case of “big shots” liking to call “Wolf Wolf”. I hope we don’t slip up when the real wolf
comes.
Tuesday,
January 6, 1942
My diary has
been missed pretty constantly of late. I
have no excuse to offer but laziness.
Since my
last writing I have moved from N. Holly to Burbank where I am taking a regular
shift at guarding Lockheed Airplane Plant.
I had a turn at Sgt. of the guard and now am
Sgt. of Fourth Relief.
A number of
us toured the Lockheed Plant where we observed the making of the Hudson Bomber
and P-38 pursuit ship.
Lockheed Plant
We had
payday since the Tuesday with its usually drinking hell raising.
Hell but
it’s cold.
January
8, 1942
Hell, but
guard duty is getting tiresome and it looks like there’s going to be no end of
it. We were issued the English make
rifle (Enfield) today, which is the guard duty rifle. Most of the men in the outfit would rather be
defending the Corridor-------- ducking Jap bullets than here, defending
Lockheed and ducking civilian admiration (around since the war).
January
12, 1942
This is
surely a helliva place to be keeping a diary.
Oh, I could keep a good one about sleep, eat and freight trains but I
mean an action diary. One where men
fight, sweat, fall and die. One where
airplanes dive, machine guns rattle and “hell” is on the loose.
Guard has
had a slight change for the worst lately.
We now have an alert period prior to going on duty. We dress, put on our equipment and stand
ready for action. We’ve also initiated the
practice of turning in our gun belts after we come off duty. It seems that they’re afraid to trust
soldiers with bullets.
January
16, 1942
Nothing changes
around here but the odor in the latrine.
For a time our nostrils were treated to the sweet aroma of chloride of
lime. Lately creso with its apply
blossom odor has been tingling nostrils.
The inhabitants of this end of Burbank are getting the experience I used
to get when the wind blew from Freddy Larsen’s pig pen.
(the latrine was in an open
field.)
Life has
settled into a well worn rut. Each day
it wears a bit deeper. I spend my hours
off duty reading old magazines. It
amuses me to read prophesies that haven’t amounted to a damn.
Harry
Whipple was reinstated today and put back on guard from which he was taken a
number of days ago for shooting holes in his tin helmet. I hope his fingers doesn’t get itchy again as
most my relief is scared stiff as it is.
January
17, 1942
Daylight
hours were of the old stock. I found
some hidden ambition and built me a cloth hanger. It is plainly the job of an amateur wood
smith.
Action came
under the cover of darkness, mostly in the form of drunks. Wilber Rasmussen (became an instrument navigator and shot down over Germany---survived) snored most of the night, causing nothing but
noise and a slight breeze. In answer to
a frantic call from post #2, I hurriedly rushed there. On the highway under the headlights of
passing cars two soldiers were battling toe to toe. For a brief moment I broke the fight up but
as they still persisted in the fighting and being a man that enjoys a good scrap,
I let them go to it. I didn’t again
intervene till one gladiator started looking for a better weapon than his
hands.
Later in the
evening I was called out to remove one of my guards who had surrendered to the
“Sandman.” Just as I get him back to
camp post #17 called for assistance.
Roughly waking three men I dispatched them to the aid of #17. No Japs were killed or captured and we
suffered no casualties.
January
20, 1942
Today has
been my first shift on alert under the new “mess” up. We now walk 2 hours and off 4 hours. We keep this up for seventy-two hours, then
we go on alert. While on alert we don’t
leave the Btry area or remove our clothes.
These lasts twenty-four hours.
After completing this program, we are rewarded with a twenty-four pass
then back to the rut.
(Joseph Matson, Charley Wright,
Bennett Madsen, Burt Hafen, Bert Reusch on guard/garrison duty)
It was
twenty years ago yesterday that I first revealed my personality. Twenty years I have inhabited this
world. Twenty years a member of
society. Twenty years behind me, and
nothing to show but six feet, and one hundred and fifty pounds. What chance
have I with Orson Wells and the Quiz Kids around.
January 22,
1942
Today has
been my day off. I spent it in a military
manner devoting my working hours to cleaning my leggings, pistol, howitzer. My leisure moments were wasted “shooting the
bull” or trying without success to write letters. The hardest work I do in getting a letter
started.
Rumors are
once again being flung, we are now going to leave for Bakersfield, time
unknown.
The captain
mentioned the possibilities of getting a commission to me this day. I have everything to gain and nothing to lose
by such a venture and I think it highly probably that I will try.
January
26, 1942
Tonight
finds me in a new role. I’m playing on a
stage for removed from my buddies of BTRY “D”.
I’m alone but for my driver Del Ray, his baby Prime mover and my darling
Helen Howitzer.
I’m to act
as instructor at the 40th Division Officer Training School. My subject will be “Director of Cannoneers”
of the 155 mm howitzer. It’s very
comical to think I will teach those who in a few weeks will teach me. (The
officers of the field artillery units 142nd, 145th, 222nd,
those that were part of the 40th division, all went to training
school to brush up on field artillery activities).
Since my
last writing I’ve put in a bid for a commission. I don’t stand too good a chance of getting in,
but what the hell.
Farewell
guard duty.
January
27, 1942
I never
would have known it if I hadn’t been told.
I still can’t believe I’m training R.O.T.C. cadets fresh out of college.
Some have attitudes lower than a 21-dollar man.
I heard one man say he got the bars by playing football and judging from
the basic question he asked me, I believe him.
Our living
quarters are good. Just below my window
is a bridal path which is galloped over by Sunday horses ridden by Sunday
cowboys. The meals here have one
outstanding trait, no desert.
January
28, 1942
Everything
went according to scheduled today. My
students are progressing satisfactorily.
They have arrived at the “prepare for action” stage. Tomorrow they will see a demonstration by
what was once a “crack” gun crew, not apt to be tomorrow.
January
30, 1942
I learned as
much today as my students. I saw a cradle
lug (part of a 155 mm howitzer) torn down for the first time. This class has certainly been a good review.
The 145th
FA has been issued their 105 mm howitzer. There are four of them here and I
examined one. They look and operate like
a fine piece of artillery. The shield is
small and doesn’t offer much protection.
Uncle Sam isn’t building defensive army.
(105 mm howitzer)
February
1, 1942
Payday
yesterday, no one around today. I went
over to North Hollywood and got my money, saw some of the gang, their pulling
Monday morning.
Worked
yesterday morning with the officers. I
examined an armored car that drove by and I don’t think very highly of them.
I started
this day walking guard and spent the duration working on my howitzer. I cleaned and repacked the Belville springs.
The word
came out today that the 222nd is to lose its Howitzers and get the
155 mm gun in exchange. Hell, nothing
goes my way. (The Howitzer lobs-shoots on an arch. Guns shoot forward-into the hill)
(like many rumors that were batted around,
this one never happened. This was a
confusing time for everyone)
February
3, 1942
I can’t
explain why I don’t write every day. I intended
to scribble a few paragraphs last night but old man “put off” got me by the
shoulder, result no entry for what was a very interesting day.
Yesterday
dinner time I ate in Walt Disney’s Studio Café.
The people looked very human, no mice at all. I had tried to crash Warner Bros. but was
unsuccessful.
Today has
been one of all play. We weren’t called
upon to do any instructing till 4:30. The before dinner part of the day was
spent reading. One article was a reprint
of a German flyers diary. He was
extremely cocky and full of pure “Aryan” baloney. When this scuffle is over, I’d like to shove
that diary down his throat. The idea
that Germans are the only ones enthused enough to fight.
February
4, 1942
I hit all
the moods from deep anger to high humor this day. I was angered by the pitch of killing at
reading of the fiendish murder of a cute six year old girl. When the varmint is captured the cruelest
method of death by torture should be his lot.
It is incidents such as this that make me wish we had a dictator, only
under a dictator do they get their deserved punishment.
The day also
saw some laughter. Sgt. Leland Gregorson
(Ceder City) and I borrowed a “jeep” and scouted hither and yon about
Hollywood. It was great sport zooming
past civvies and darting in and out of traffic.
Laughter repels want for a dictator.
