November 11, 2010

A Measure of Posterity: Gunnery Sgt. “Manila John” Basilone finally gets his due

Statue of Sgt. John Basilone by Philip Orlando
Raritan, New Jersey (Photo by John Stavola)
By Niccolò Graffio
“A brave man may fall but he cannot yield.”
~ Ancient Roman proverb

Two of the many fond memories I had of my childhood in Corona, Queens: 1) Growing up in a predominantly (Southern) Italian area 2) Playing “War” in the streets with my neighborhood friends. My paisani need no explanation for the former. The sights, sounds and the smells (especially around dinner time) of the old neighborhood provide me with a lifetime of memories. As for the latter? Those days running around, playfully shooting at “the enemy” while covering the backs of my friends were the first lessons I had about friendship, camaraderie and trust.

It seemed every boy in my area had a water pistol, a toy gun, and a G.I. Joe doll. In the latter case I recall it was considered something of a status symbol to have as many accessories for “Joe” as possible. Many of my friends bragged about how they were going to join the military when they grew up, and a number of them did, in fact. In retrospect, it is one of the regrets of my life I never did.

Thinking back to those days, I realize how much things have changed in my time upon this earth. Sadly, Corona no longer has any appreciable numbers of Italians (from any part of Italy) living in it. In my mind it’s not even worth going back to visit the place, anymore. I don’t recognize it or the people living there.

A young Giovanni di Napoli playing soldier
Since “progressives” seized control of our country’s educational system after the end of the Vietnam War, it is no longer considered "politically correct" to allow young boys to run through the streets with toy guns, imitating soldiers (at least here in New York City). Since the atmosphere of fear created by Islamic terrorists on 9/11/2001, it is also no longer advisable.

A good part of a nation’s history is its heroes; men and women who distinguish themselves from their countrymen by their surpassing courage or superior abilities. They inspire awe, admiration and respect in the rest of us. It is these people who are held up by the powers that be for the masses to emulate, especially if they originated from their ranks. You can learn a lot about a society by seeing who is held up as its heroes.

A healthy, virile, patriotic society is one that includes soldiers in its roster of heroes. After all, it is soldiers who form the first and most important line of defense for a country against its enemies. Even in this day and age of push button warfare, soldiers are indispensible to a nation’s defense.

Mine was the last generation to have the honor and privilege of learning Western Civilization as a subject in public high school. Part of the curriculum was learning about great soldiers from times past. Names like King Leonidas of Sparta (hero of the Battle of Thermoplyae), Charles Martel (vanquisher of the Moors at the Battle of Tours), and King Jan III Sobieski of Poland (the “Lion of Lechistan”) come to mind, though there are many others. Shortly after I graduated, Jesse Jackson led a nationwide chorus of “Hey, Hey, Ho, Ho, Western Civ has got to go!” to drive the subject from America’s schools, and unfortunately he and his cohorts succeeded.
King Jan III Sobieski of Poland
Detail of painting at the Vatican (Photo by New York Scugnizzo)
Concurrent with this was what could only be described as one of the most unsavory chapters in this country’s modern history: the vilification of Vietnam War veterans by people in both "centers of higher learning" and the mainstream media. In what could only be described as sardonic comedy, men sent overseas to fight in an unpopular war came back to be mistreated by those who in many cases went to great lengths to avoid the draft. Though attempts were eventually made to rectify the situation, the episode left a bad taste in the mouths of many. Whatever your opinion is of the Vietnam War, the treatment of its veterans remains a black mark in America’s history.

A still-common stereotype bantered around is that Italians (especially Southern Italians) make poor soldiers. I must confess that in my youth I felt likewise. It was hard not to, since virtually none of the soldiers (including Americans) we learned about in school were Southerners.

Long before I joined this blog, I learned the ranks of the American Armed Forces were filled with our people during both World Wars. Armed with this realization, I found it hard to believe none of our people distinguished themselves with acts of bravery. Were we really substandard as warriors, or were our heroes merely thought of as being undeserving of adulation, like the legendary Eddie Rickenbacker or Audie Murphy? Could it simply be that America, as a country old before its time, has simply lost sight of many of its real heroes as it settles comfortably into effeteness?

In my research I found, to my surprise, that we did indeed contribute, significantly in fact, to the annals of American military history. Now, approaching Veteran’s Day, I dedicate this article to one of “ours” in particular, and to American veterans in general.

John Basilone was born on November 4th, 1916 in Buffalo, New York. His father, Salvatore Basilone, was a tailor who was born and raised in the province of Napoli in Italy. He left Italy and immigrated to the United States where he met his future wife, Dora Bengivenga, herself of Neapolitan extraction. John was the sixth of ten children, most of them boys; a fact that would have a strong influence on his personality later on in life.

Salvatore Basilone eventually relocated his family to Raritan, New Jersey, where young John attended St. Bernard Parochial School. Like many Southern Italians who immigrated to America, Salvatore forsook his homeland, embracing his adopted country with vigor and raising his children to do likewise. John was a poor student, though, and dropped out of middle school, never earning a high school diploma.

He worked for a time as a golf caddy at the Raritan Valley Country Club before joining the U.S. Army at the age of 18 in 1934. He was shipped off to the Philippines. A pugilist by nature (thanks in part to the fist-fights he would regularly get into with his older brothers), he fought as a light heavyweight in the Army, going undefeated for a total of 19 fights. After completing his required three years in the Army, he received an honorable discharge, returning to America where he worked for a time as a truck driver in Reisterstown, Maryland.

By July, 1940 much of the planet was already fighting World War II. Sensing America’s inevitably being drawn into the conflict, and himself wishing to return to Manila in the Philippines, John Basilone traveled to Baltimore, Maryland where he enlisted in the U.S. Marines Corp. After completing his training, the Corp sent him to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. From there he was eventually shipped off to the island of Guadalcanal in the Solomons with the rank of Gunnery Sergeant as a member of 1st Battalion, 7th Marines, 1st Marine Division. It was at Guadalcanal his buddies in the Marines pinned the moniker “Manila John” on him due to his stint there in the Army.

Guadalcanal was a hellhole, even by World War II standards! Stiflingly hot, humid and disease-infested, the Japanese-held island came under assault on August 7th, 1942 as the Allies sought to neutralize Japan’s threat to supply routes between America, Australia and New Zealand. Due to Guadalcanal’s strategic importance, both sides poured enormous amounts of manpower and firepower into the campaign.

On October 24th, 1942, during the Battle for Henderson Field, a regiment of soldiers from the Japanese Sendai Division launched a full-frontal assault on Basilone’s command of two sections of heavy machine guns. For the next two days and nights the Japanese came at them almost non-stop in human waves armed with machines guns, hand grenades and mortars. Fatigued and infected with malaria, one by one Basilone’s men dropped before the onslaught until by the end of the second day, out of originally 15 men, only Basilone and two others remained fighting. The rest were all dead.

CMH winner USMC Sgt. John Basilone
(Photo courtesy of USAhangout.com)
Gunnery Sgt. John Basilone then really went to work! He moved an extra machine gun into position and maintained an almost continuous stream of fire at the enemy. He then repaired and manned another gun until replacements arrived. At one point the number of Japanese bodies had piled up so high in front of him he was forced to reset the height of the gun in order to keep firing!

With ammunition now almost gone and his supply lines cut off, Basilone took it upon himself to resupply himself and his remaining men. Tucking a Colt .45 in his belt while cradling a machine gun, Basilone spent the next 24 hours crawling back and forth between boxes of ammo and his men, giving them the will to fight on, fixing machine guns when he wasn’t himself shooting at the enemy. Having gone without food, water and rest for over two days, he fought like a man possessed! At one point he single-handedly stopped a deadly banzai charge, killing 38 soldiers in the process. Some of the enemy literally came within arm’s reach of him!

When it was all over, Basilone and his men had virtually annihilated the Japanese regiment, and Henderson Field remained in American hands. Shortly afterwards he was recommended for the Congressional Medal of Honor, America’s highest military award presented during wartime. He was officially awarded this medal by General Alexander Vandegrift in May, 1943. No less than General Douglas MacArthur proclaimed him a “one man army!”

After being presented with the Medal of Honor, Basilone was shipped back to the United States. He was greeted at Raritan, NJ on Sunday, September 19th, 1943 by 30,000 people in a homecoming parade that included his beaming parents. The height of the festivities was a gala in his honor on the estate of tobacco heiress Doris Duke. At the age of only 26 John Basilone was a national hero!

The crown of hero, however, did not sit well on his head. While he appreciated the admiration, he felt uncomfortable with all the attention. He yearned to go back to the Pacific to fight at the side of his beloved Marines against the Japanese. His request for a transfer was denied; Marine brass preferred to have him stateside to raise money through the sale of war bonds. He was offered a promotion to 2nd Lieutenant which he declined. “I’m a plain soldier,” he explained, “and I prefer to stay that way.”

For months afterwards he was sent on tours across America, raising monies for the war effort. Publicly smiling for the cameras while being kissed by starlets, he privately chafed at the thought of being slowly turned into what he termed “a museum piece.” In one candid moment he told a reporter, “Doing a stateside tour is tougher than fighting Japs.”
Again requesting a transfer, this time he was approved. He arrived for training at Camp Pendleton, CA in late December, 1943. While there he would meet his future wife, Lena Mae Riggi, who was herself a sergeant in the Marine Corps Women’s Reserve. They married on July 10, 1944. He requested a return to combat duty shortly afterwards.

Illustration of the hero by Cecil Calvert Beall
He was assigned to Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 27th Marine Regiment, 5th Marine Division and sent off to Iwo Jima during the American invasion of that island. Being one of the first to hit the beaches, he noticed the Japanese concentrated their fire at Americans from heavily fortified blockhouses. While his unit was pinned down by enemy fire, Basilone made his way up and around the Japanese lines, eventually crawling to the top of the blockhouse, which he subsequently destroyed with hand grenades and field demolitions. He then made his way under enemy fire towards an American tank that was trapped in a mine field while coming under mortar and artillery fire. He guided the vehicle to safety even though he was being fired upon.
Next seeing a Japanese gun emplacement, he tried to lead a charge against it. “C’mon you guys, we gotta get these guns off the beach” he yelled. According to survivors, those would be his last words. Seconds later, an enemy mortar landed just a few yards from him. The blast killed him and four comrades instantly.

For his valor at Iwo Jima he was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross, the second highest award given to members of the U.S. Marine Corps in combat. He is the only enlisted Marine to be awarded both the Medal of Honor and the Navy Cross during World War II.

His widow, Lena Mae Basilone, died on June 11th, 1999 at the age of 86. It was reported she never remarried.

After the end of World War II, as many tried to rebuild their shattered lives and families, the memory of those who rose to heroic status began to dim. While some like Audie Murphy continued to enjoy recognition (thanks to a career in Hollywood), most disappeared into the mists of history. Basilone was one of them. Soon, even his name was forgotten by all but the most avid enthusiasts of World War II.

Another look at the Raritan,
NJ monument
(John Stavola)
Veterans Day, which used to be a time for parades and public outings, has likewise suffered from a country whose inhabitants now use the day to indulge in personal freedoms rather than honor the memory of the men (and women) that made those freedoms possible.

In recent years, however, at least one thing has changed. Perhaps as a result of the shame associated with the mistreatment of America’s Vietnam-era veterans, some have taken to rediscovering and honoring this country’s historically great soldiers. John Basilone is one of those being so honored. On November 10th, 2005 the U.S. Postal Service issued the “Distinguished Marines” stamps honoring four giants in Marine Corps history. Gunnery Sgt. John Basilone was numbered with Lt. Gen. John A Lejeune, Sgt Major Daniel J. Daly and Lt. Gen. Lewis B. “Chesty” Puller. Several years earlier, Audie Murphy was likewise honored with his own stamp.

This past year, HBO aired a miniseries entitled The Pacific, which followed the exploits of three real-life heroic Marines during World War II. Again, Basilone was one of them. It remains to be seen whether this renewed interest in great soldiers is a trend or merely a fad. One hopes for the former. The ancient Greeks and Romans understood the value of heroic warriors in helping to instill a sense of national consciousness. Americans would do well, likewise.

Further reading:
• Jim Proser (with Jerry Cutter): I’m Staying With My Boys: The Heroic Life of Sgt. John Basilone, USMC; St. Martin’s Press, 2010.
• Chester G. Hearn: Marines: An Illustrated History: The United States Marine Corps from 1775 to the 21st Century; Zenith Press, 2007.