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vikingBerserker
Lieutenant General
Hiroo Onoda, Solider Who Hid in Jungle for Decades, Dies at 91.
Hiroo Onoda, an Imperial Japanese Army officer who remained at his jungle post on an island in the Philippines for 29 years, refusing to believe that World War II was over, and returned to a hero's welcome in the all but unrecognizable Japan of 1974, died Thursday at a Tokyo hospital. He was 91.
Caught in a time warp, 2nd Lt. Onoda was one of the war's last holdouts: a soldier who believed the emperor was a deity and the war a sacred mission; who survived on bananas and coconuts and sometimes killed villagers he assumed were enemies; who finally went home to the lotus land of paper and wood that turned out to be a futuristic world of skyscrapers, television, jet planes, pollution and atomic destruction.
Japanese history and literature are replete with heroes who have remained loyal to a cause, especially if it is lost or hopeless, and Lieutenant Onoda, a small, wiry man of dignified manner and military bearing, seemed to many like a samurai of old, offering his sword as a gesture of surrender to President Ferdinand E. Marcos of the Philippines, who returned it to him.
And his homecoming, with roaring crowds, celebratory parades and speeches by public officials, stirred his nation with a pride that many Japanese had found lacking in postwar years of rising prosperity and materialism. His ordeal of deprivation may have seemed a pointless waste to much of the world, but in Japan it was a moving reminder of the redemptive qualities of duty and perseverance.
It happened with a simple command. As related in a memoir after he came home, Lieutenant Onoda's last order in early 1945 was to stay and fight. Loyal to a military code that taught that death was preferable to surrender, he remained behind on Lubang Island, 93 miles southwest of Manila, when Japanese forces withdrew in the face of an American invasion.
After Japan surrendered in August, thousands of Japanese soldiers were scattered across China, Southeast Asia and the Western Pacific. Many stragglers were captured or went home, while hundreds went into hiding rather than surrender or commit suicide. Many died of starvation or sickness. A few survivors refused to believe the dropped leaflets and radio announcements saying the war had been lost.
Lieutenant Onoda, an intelligence officer trained in guerrilla tactics, and three enlisted men with him found leaflets proclaiming the war's end, but believed they were enemy propaganda tricks. They built bamboo huts; ate bananas, coconuts and rice pilfered from a village, and killed cows for meat. Tormented by tropical heat, rats and mosquitoes, they patched their uniforms and kept their rifles in working order.
Considering themselves at war, they evaded American and Filipino search parties and attacked islanders they took to be enemy guerrillas; about 30 inhabitants were killed in skirmishes with the Japanese over the years. One of the enlisted men surrendered to Filipino forces in 1950, and two others were shot dead, one in 1954 and another in 1972, by island police officers searching for the renegades.
The last holdout, Lieutenant Onoda — officially declared dead in 1959 — was found by Norio Suzuki, a student searching for him in 1974. The lieutenant rejected his pleas to go home, insisting he was still awaiting orders. Mr. Suzuki returned with photographs, and the Japanese government sent a delegation, including the lieutenant's brother and his former commander, to formally relieve him of duty."I am sorry I have disturbed you for so long a time," Lieutenant Onoda told his brother, Toshiro.
In Manila, the lieutenant, wearing his tattered uniform, presented his sword to President Marcos, who pardoned him for crimes committed while he thought he was at war.
He was already a national hero when he arrived in Tokyo. He was met by his aging parents and huge flag-waving crowds with an outpouring of emotion. More than patriotism or admiration for his grit, his jungle saga, which had dominated the news in Japan for days, evoked waves of nostalgia and melancholy in a people searching for deeper meaning in their growing postwar affluence.
The 52-year-old lieutenant — a ghost from the past in a new blue suit, close-cropped military haircut and wispy mustache and chin whiskers — spoke earnestly of duty, and seemed to personify a devotion to traditional values that many Japanese thought had been lost.
"I was fortunate that I could devote myself to my duty in my young and vigorous years," he said. Asked what had been on his mind all those years in the jungle, he said: "Nothing but accomplishing my duty."
In an editorial, The Mainichi Shimbun, a leading Tokyo newspaper, said: "To this soldier, duty took precedence over personal sentiments. Onoda has shown us that there is much more in life than just material affluence and selfish pursuits. There is the spiritual aspect, something we may have forgotten."
After his national welcome in Japan, Mr. Onoda was examined by doctors, who found him in amazingly good condition. He was given a military pension and signed a $160,000 contract for a ghostwritten memoir, "No Surrender: My Thirty Year War." As his story went global in books, articles and documentaries, he tried to lead a normal life.
He went dancing, took driving lessons and traveled up and down the Japanese islands. But he found himself a stranger in a strange land, disillusioned with materialism and overwhelmed by changes. "There are so many tall buildings and automobiles in Tokyo," he said. "Television might be convenient, but it has no influence on my life here."
In 1975, he moved to a Japanese colony in São Paulo, Brazil, raised cattle and in 1976 married Machie Onuku, a Japanese tea-ceremony teacher. In 1984, the couple returned to Japan and founded the Onoda Nature School, a survival-skills youth camp. In 1996, he revisited Lubang and gave $10,000 to a school. In recent years, he lived in Japan and Brazil, where he was made an honorary citizen in 2010.
Hiroo Onoda was born on March 19, 1922, in Kainan, Wakayama, in central Japan, one of seven children of Tanejiro and Tamae Onoda. At 17, he went to work for a trading company in Wuhan, China, which Japanese forces occupied in 1938. In 1942, he joined the Japanese Army, was singled out for special training and attended Nakano School, the army's training center for intelligence officers. He studied guerrilla warfare, philosophy, history, martial arts, propaganda and covert operations.
In late December 1944, he was sent to Lubang, a strategic island 16 miles long and 6 miles wide on the southwestern approach to Manila Bay and the island of Corregidor, with orders to sabotage harbor installations and an airstrip to disrupt a coming American invasion. But superior officers on the island superseded those orders to focus on preparations for a Japanese evacuation.
When American forces landed on Feb. 28, 1945, and the last Japanese fled or were killed, Maj. Yoshimi Taniguchi gave Lieutenant Onoda his final orders, to stand and fight. "It may take three years, it may take five, but whatever happens we'll come back for you," the major promised.
Twenty-nine years later, the retired major, by then a bookseller, returned to Lubang at Tokyo's request to fulfill his promise. Japan had lost the war, he said, and the lieutenant was relieved of duty. The ragged soldier saluted and wept.
source: The New York Times
Hiroo Onoda, an Imperial Japanese Army officer who remained at his jungle post on an island in the Philippines for 29 years, refusing to believe that World War II was over, and returned to a hero's welcome in the all but unrecognizable Japan of 1974, died Thursday at a Tokyo hospital. He was 91.
Caught in a time warp, 2nd Lt. Onoda was one of the war's last holdouts: a soldier who believed the emperor was a deity and the war a sacred mission; who survived on bananas and coconuts and sometimes killed villagers he assumed were enemies; who finally went home to the lotus land of paper and wood that turned out to be a futuristic world of skyscrapers, television, jet planes, pollution and atomic destruction.
Japanese history and literature are replete with heroes who have remained loyal to a cause, especially if it is lost or hopeless, and Lieutenant Onoda, a small, wiry man of dignified manner and military bearing, seemed to many like a samurai of old, offering his sword as a gesture of surrender to President Ferdinand E. Marcos of the Philippines, who returned it to him.
And his homecoming, with roaring crowds, celebratory parades and speeches by public officials, stirred his nation with a pride that many Japanese had found lacking in postwar years of rising prosperity and materialism. His ordeal of deprivation may have seemed a pointless waste to much of the world, but in Japan it was a moving reminder of the redemptive qualities of duty and perseverance.
It happened with a simple command. As related in a memoir after he came home, Lieutenant Onoda's last order in early 1945 was to stay and fight. Loyal to a military code that taught that death was preferable to surrender, he remained behind on Lubang Island, 93 miles southwest of Manila, when Japanese forces withdrew in the face of an American invasion.
After Japan surrendered in August, thousands of Japanese soldiers were scattered across China, Southeast Asia and the Western Pacific. Many stragglers were captured or went home, while hundreds went into hiding rather than surrender or commit suicide. Many died of starvation or sickness. A few survivors refused to believe the dropped leaflets and radio announcements saying the war had been lost.
Lieutenant Onoda, an intelligence officer trained in guerrilla tactics, and three enlisted men with him found leaflets proclaiming the war's end, but believed they were enemy propaganda tricks. They built bamboo huts; ate bananas, coconuts and rice pilfered from a village, and killed cows for meat. Tormented by tropical heat, rats and mosquitoes, they patched their uniforms and kept their rifles in working order.
Considering themselves at war, they evaded American and Filipino search parties and attacked islanders they took to be enemy guerrillas; about 30 inhabitants were killed in skirmishes with the Japanese over the years. One of the enlisted men surrendered to Filipino forces in 1950, and two others were shot dead, one in 1954 and another in 1972, by island police officers searching for the renegades.
The last holdout, Lieutenant Onoda — officially declared dead in 1959 — was found by Norio Suzuki, a student searching for him in 1974. The lieutenant rejected his pleas to go home, insisting he was still awaiting orders. Mr. Suzuki returned with photographs, and the Japanese government sent a delegation, including the lieutenant's brother and his former commander, to formally relieve him of duty."I am sorry I have disturbed you for so long a time," Lieutenant Onoda told his brother, Toshiro.
In Manila, the lieutenant, wearing his tattered uniform, presented his sword to President Marcos, who pardoned him for crimes committed while he thought he was at war.
He was already a national hero when he arrived in Tokyo. He was met by his aging parents and huge flag-waving crowds with an outpouring of emotion. More than patriotism or admiration for his grit, his jungle saga, which had dominated the news in Japan for days, evoked waves of nostalgia and melancholy in a people searching for deeper meaning in their growing postwar affluence.
The 52-year-old lieutenant — a ghost from the past in a new blue suit, close-cropped military haircut and wispy mustache and chin whiskers — spoke earnestly of duty, and seemed to personify a devotion to traditional values that many Japanese thought had been lost.
"I was fortunate that I could devote myself to my duty in my young and vigorous years," he said. Asked what had been on his mind all those years in the jungle, he said: "Nothing but accomplishing my duty."
In an editorial, The Mainichi Shimbun, a leading Tokyo newspaper, said: "To this soldier, duty took precedence over personal sentiments. Onoda has shown us that there is much more in life than just material affluence and selfish pursuits. There is the spiritual aspect, something we may have forgotten."
After his national welcome in Japan, Mr. Onoda was examined by doctors, who found him in amazingly good condition. He was given a military pension and signed a $160,000 contract for a ghostwritten memoir, "No Surrender: My Thirty Year War." As his story went global in books, articles and documentaries, he tried to lead a normal life.
He went dancing, took driving lessons and traveled up and down the Japanese islands. But he found himself a stranger in a strange land, disillusioned with materialism and overwhelmed by changes. "There are so many tall buildings and automobiles in Tokyo," he said. "Television might be convenient, but it has no influence on my life here."
In 1975, he moved to a Japanese colony in São Paulo, Brazil, raised cattle and in 1976 married Machie Onuku, a Japanese tea-ceremony teacher. In 1984, the couple returned to Japan and founded the Onoda Nature School, a survival-skills youth camp. In 1996, he revisited Lubang and gave $10,000 to a school. In recent years, he lived in Japan and Brazil, where he was made an honorary citizen in 2010.
Hiroo Onoda was born on March 19, 1922, in Kainan, Wakayama, in central Japan, one of seven children of Tanejiro and Tamae Onoda. At 17, he went to work for a trading company in Wuhan, China, which Japanese forces occupied in 1938. In 1942, he joined the Japanese Army, was singled out for special training and attended Nakano School, the army's training center for intelligence officers. He studied guerrilla warfare, philosophy, history, martial arts, propaganda and covert operations.
In late December 1944, he was sent to Lubang, a strategic island 16 miles long and 6 miles wide on the southwestern approach to Manila Bay and the island of Corregidor, with orders to sabotage harbor installations and an airstrip to disrupt a coming American invasion. But superior officers on the island superseded those orders to focus on preparations for a Japanese evacuation.
When American forces landed on Feb. 28, 1945, and the last Japanese fled or were killed, Maj. Yoshimi Taniguchi gave Lieutenant Onoda his final orders, to stand and fight. "It may take three years, it may take five, but whatever happens we'll come back for you," the major promised.
Twenty-nine years later, the retired major, by then a bookseller, returned to Lubang at Tokyo's request to fulfill his promise. Japan had lost the war, he said, and the lieutenant was relieved of duty. The ragged soldier saluted and wept.
source: The New York Times
GrauGeist
Generalfeldmarschall zur Luftschiff Abteilung
Lt. Onada was certainly a dedicated soldier!
Japanese WWII soldier who refused to surrender for 29 years dies - World News
Japanese WWII soldier who refused to surrender for 29 years dies - World News
Aaron Brooks Wolters
Brigadier General
vikingBerserker
Lieutenant General
Another WW2 Vet passed, Russell Johnson more famously known as the Professor from Gilligan's Island.
"He joined the Army Air Corps during World War II and served as a B-24 bombardier on missions over the Pacific war zone, breaking his ankles in 1945 when his plane was shot down over the Philippine island of Mindanao. He was discharged as a first lieutenant in November 1945, having earned a Purple Heart and other medals."
from Russell Johnson, who played The Professor on 'Gilligan's Island,' dies at age 89 | Fox News
GrauGeist
Generalfeldmarschall zur Luftschiff Abteilung
Sad to see the Professor pass away! This just leaves Ginger and Maryann 
times two- Thread starter
- #1,131
syscom3
Pacific Historian
Russell Johnson flew with the 42nd BG, which only had B25's. The wiki story is inaccurate.
vikingBerserker
Lieutenant General
That was from Fox, I rarely quote from Wiki.
Airframes
Benevolens Magister
F/O Bob Kirkpatrick (RCAF), 21 Sqn. RAF.
Last surviving aircrew member from the Shell House raid.
I've just received the sad news that my friend Bob Kirkpatrick passed away on Sunday afternoon. He would have been 92 next week.
Bob was an American who, having failed the medical to enlist in the US Forces, crossed the border into Canada and joined the RCAF. He flew Beaufighters, then converted to the Mosquito FBVI, which he flew on operations with 21 Sqn, RAF, from the UK and France.
Bob took part in 'Operation Carthage', the famous low-level raid on Gestapo Headquarters, based in the Shell House in the center of Copenhagen, on March 21st 1945, when he flew one of the FPU (film unit) Mosquito BIV srs.ii , circling the city three times. Hit by flak, with one engine damaged and the hydraulics knocked out, Bob managed to get the Mosquito back across the North Sea, and made an emergency landing, without flaps or brakes, at the USAAF B-24 base base at Rackheath, Norfolk.
At war's end, Bob returned to the 'States, where he had to apply for a certificate showing he was a U.S. citizen, and married his childhood sweetheart Ginny (Virginia), and he continued flying, everything from one of the first crop-spraying operations, to charter and instructional work, amassing a huge total of flying hours.
He was fortunate to be able to travel from his home in Iowa last year, to see, and be a guest at, the air show in Canada where the Mosquito flew, and former crews were center of attention, and the smile on his face, despite the pain he was enduring, showed how happy he was to see the 'Mossie' again.
Still flying until not so many years ago, Bob was a true gentleman, and will be sorely missed.
Blue skies Bob.
Last surviving aircrew member from the Shell House raid.
I've just received the sad news that my friend Bob Kirkpatrick passed away on Sunday afternoon. He would have been 92 next week.
Bob was an American who, having failed the medical to enlist in the US Forces, crossed the border into Canada and joined the RCAF. He flew Beaufighters, then converted to the Mosquito FBVI, which he flew on operations with 21 Sqn, RAF, from the UK and France.
Bob took part in 'Operation Carthage', the famous low-level raid on Gestapo Headquarters, based in the Shell House in the center of Copenhagen, on March 21st 1945, when he flew one of the FPU (film unit) Mosquito BIV srs.ii , circling the city three times. Hit by flak, with one engine damaged and the hydraulics knocked out, Bob managed to get the Mosquito back across the North Sea, and made an emergency landing, without flaps or brakes, at the USAAF B-24 base base at Rackheath, Norfolk.
At war's end, Bob returned to the 'States, where he had to apply for a certificate showing he was a U.S. citizen, and married his childhood sweetheart Ginny (Virginia), and he continued flying, everything from one of the first crop-spraying operations, to charter and instructional work, amassing a huge total of flying hours.
He was fortunate to be able to travel from his home in Iowa last year, to see, and be a guest at, the air show in Canada where the Mosquito flew, and former crews were center of attention, and the smile on his face, despite the pain he was enduring, showed how happy he was to see the 'Mossie' again.
Still flying until not so many years ago, Bob was a true gentleman, and will be sorely missed.
Blue skies Bob.
vikingBerserker
Lieutenant General
and my condolences to you Terry.
Njaco
The Pop-Tart Whisperer
So sorry to hear about this, Terry.
Sorry to hear this Terry, condolences....
Stefan Baluk was a Polish SOE agent who escaped from the Nazis through the sewers of Warsaw
Stefan Baluk, who has died aged 100, was one of the last survivors of the elite SOE agents of Poland's Home Army, and survived capture by both Nazi and Soviet occupiers.
On the night of April 9 1944, Baluk was flown from Brindisi, in the liberated heel of Italy, and dropped into Poland. In Warsaw he found bunkers and checkpoints everywhere and, as a spy, he could not make contact with any members of his family.
He began working with the Armia Krajowa (AK), the Home Army. Moving stealthily around the city he took photographs of German military installations. On August 1, the Home Army gave the signal for the start of the Warsaw uprising. Baluk's speciality was making forged documents for the resistance fighters.
Communications were a problem. Fighters in one part of the city lacked the correct radio crystals to maintain contact with their comrades in another. On one occasion, he and his unit volunteered to deliver crystals to a commando group. This involved crossing railway lines which were under water and heavily guarded. It was dark, but a sentry heard the splashing and opened fire. Baluk said afterwards that they were only able to get away because an aircraft came over and the sentry engaged it.
As the net around them was drawn tighter, the resistance fighters took to the sewers. Baluk travelled the length of the city through the filth. His worst moment, he said, was when his leg became trapped. Switching on his flashlight, something that was only permitted in emergencies, he discovered that the limb was in a pincer-like grip between the ribs of a dead body. Stefan Klemens Baluk was born in Warsaw on January 15 1914. He was studying Law when he was called up and enlisted in the 10th Motorized Cavalry Brigade. After Poland was overwhelmed by the Wehrmacht's blitzkrieg, he escaped through Hungary and joined the Polish armed forces in France under General Sikorski.
When France fell he was evacuated to England. Having volunteered for the SOE, he was posted to Scotland and trained in sabotage, unarmed combat and guerrilla operations. He was sent on a course in parachuting and in forging German identity documents.
The Soviet authorities encouraged the Polish underground to stage an insurgency but the Red Army failed to come to their aid. After 63 days of desperate fighting, the Home Army split into small groups and, when their supplies were exhausted, they were forced to surrender. The Germans deported most of the population and destroyed the city.
Baluk was taken prisoner and sent to Oflag 11-D in Gross Born, Pomerania. He escaped in January 1945 and rejoined the Home Army in Poland. Once again, he made false documents but this time for those resisting Poland's new masters, the Communists.
In November he was betrayed and arrested by the NKVD for being a member of the Home Army and was sentenced to four years in prison. In 1947 he was, however, released under an amnesty. Thereafter, he was stripped of his rights as a citizen and regularly arrested and interrogated by the secret police.
He worked as a taxi driver for many years and it was not until 1971 that his friends managed to get him work as a professional photographer. During the Warsaw Uprising, he had taken thousands of photographs which he hid and recovered after the war.
In 1989, when Poland became a democratic country, his achievements were finally recognised. In 2006, he was promoted to honorary brigadier general. He was also awarded the Virtuti Militari, Poland's highest military decoration for gallantry. His memoirs were translated into English in 2009 and appeared as Silent and Unseen: I was a WWII special ops commando.
Stefan Baluk married, first, "Lala" Krzyczkowska. He married, secondly, Barbara Kostrzewa. His third marriage was to Danuta Orzeszko, who survives him with a son and two daughters, and a daughter of his second marriage. A son of his second marriage predeceased him.
Stefan Baluk, born January 15 1914, died January 30 2014
Stefan Baluk, who has died aged 100, was one of the last survivors of the elite SOE agents of Poland's Home Army, and survived capture by both Nazi and Soviet occupiers.
On the night of April 9 1944, Baluk was flown from Brindisi, in the liberated heel of Italy, and dropped into Poland. In Warsaw he found bunkers and checkpoints everywhere and, as a spy, he could not make contact with any members of his family.
He began working with the Armia Krajowa (AK), the Home Army. Moving stealthily around the city he took photographs of German military installations. On August 1, the Home Army gave the signal for the start of the Warsaw uprising. Baluk's speciality was making forged documents for the resistance fighters.
Communications were a problem. Fighters in one part of the city lacked the correct radio crystals to maintain contact with their comrades in another. On one occasion, he and his unit volunteered to deliver crystals to a commando group. This involved crossing railway lines which were under water and heavily guarded. It was dark, but a sentry heard the splashing and opened fire. Baluk said afterwards that they were only able to get away because an aircraft came over and the sentry engaged it.
As the net around them was drawn tighter, the resistance fighters took to the sewers. Baluk travelled the length of the city through the filth. His worst moment, he said, was when his leg became trapped. Switching on his flashlight, something that was only permitted in emergencies, he discovered that the limb was in a pincer-like grip between the ribs of a dead body. Stefan Klemens Baluk was born in Warsaw on January 15 1914. He was studying Law when he was called up and enlisted in the 10th Motorized Cavalry Brigade. After Poland was overwhelmed by the Wehrmacht's blitzkrieg, he escaped through Hungary and joined the Polish armed forces in France under General Sikorski.
When France fell he was evacuated to England. Having volunteered for the SOE, he was posted to Scotland and trained in sabotage, unarmed combat and guerrilla operations. He was sent on a course in parachuting and in forging German identity documents.
The Soviet authorities encouraged the Polish underground to stage an insurgency but the Red Army failed to come to their aid. After 63 days of desperate fighting, the Home Army split into small groups and, when their supplies were exhausted, they were forced to surrender. The Germans deported most of the population and destroyed the city.
Baluk was taken prisoner and sent to Oflag 11-D in Gross Born, Pomerania. He escaped in January 1945 and rejoined the Home Army in Poland. Once again, he made false documents but this time for those resisting Poland's new masters, the Communists.
In November he was betrayed and arrested by the NKVD for being a member of the Home Army and was sentenced to four years in prison. In 1947 he was, however, released under an amnesty. Thereafter, he was stripped of his rights as a citizen and regularly arrested and interrogated by the secret police.
He worked as a taxi driver for many years and it was not until 1971 that his friends managed to get him work as a professional photographer. During the Warsaw Uprising, he had taken thousands of photographs which he hid and recovered after the war.
In 1989, when Poland became a democratic country, his achievements were finally recognised. In 2006, he was promoted to honorary brigadier general. He was also awarded the Virtuti Militari, Poland's highest military decoration for gallantry. His memoirs were translated into English in 2009 and appeared as Silent and Unseen: I was a WWII special ops commando.
Stefan Baluk married, first, "Lala" Krzyczkowska. He married, secondly, Barbara Kostrzewa. His third marriage was to Danuta Orzeszko, who survives him with a son and two daughters, and a daughter of his second marriage. A son of his second marriage predeceased him.
Stefan Baluk, born January 15 1914, died January 30 2014
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fubar57
General
vikingBerserker
Lieutenant General