“Time had no meaning; life was meaningless,” wrote Eugene B. Sledge in his 1981 magnum opus, with the old racedescribing some of the brutal and dehumanizing combat he and others faced in the Pacific at Peleliu in late 1944 and on Okinawa in the spring of 1945. “We existed in an environment totally incomprehensible to the men behind the lines.”
His book was an effort decades after the war to make the incomprehensible understandable, first to his family and then, at the urging of his wife, Jeanne, who typed the manuscript, to the general public, leading to its publication. The resulting work was quickly recognized as a classic. British military historian John Keegan described himself as “haunted” by the book, which he called “one of the most striking documents in war literature”. Historian and World War II veteran Paul Fussell called it “one of the best memoirs to come out of any war.” Documentary filmmaker Ken Burns was based on him for his 2007 film, Warand was an inspiration for the 2010 HBO miniseries The Pacificwith actor Joseph Mazzello playing Sledge.
Yet for most of his life, Sledge, who died in 2001, was known not as a combat Marine, but as a quiet and considerate family man, a lover of nature and music who taught biology. at Montevallo University in Alabama. “My experiences in the Pacific War have haunted me, and it has been a burden to preserve this history,” Sledge explained in the book’s preface. “But time heals, and the nightmares no longer wake me up in a cold sweat, with a racing heart and racing pulse. Now I can write this story, even if it is painful to do so. On the following pages is a glimpse into a rarely seen collection: Sledge’s personal artifacts from what he called the “chasm of war.”
Since men in combat were not allowed to keep journals for security reasons, Sledge made notes about his experiences on Peleliu and Okinawa in a pocket New Testament he had received during basic training at Camp Elliott near San Diego. The notes would form the basis of his book. with the old race, which he began working on in 1944 while at a rest camp on the island of Pavuvu. She drew up an outline shortly after returning home and completed the book in the late 1970s. (Courtesy Anonymous Collector; Photos by Beth Black Photography)
Sledge’s nameplate. When he asked a recruiting sergeant why he had asked about scars, birthmarks or unusual features, the man told him: “So they can ID you on some Pacific beach after the Japanese take your dog tags.” Sledge added, “This was my introduction to the stark realism that characterized the Marine Corps I later came to know.” (Courtesy of an anonymous collector; photos by Beth Black Photography)
Marked with the Marines’ “Eagle, Globe and Anchor” insignia, this utility cover (visible in main photo) saw Sledge through the war and on home garden projects in the years after. (Courtesy of an anonymous collector; photos by Beth Black Photography)
This impeccably designed and durable herringbone twill jacket, with Sledge’s initials scripted inside the collar, was part of the Marine utility uniform. Sledge referred to it as his “overall” jacket, a common Navy term that carefully avoided the Army’s nomenclature for similar garments: “fatigue.” (Courtesy of an anonymous collector; photos by Beth Black Photography)
Sledge’s combat pack contained a pair of socks, K rations, hand grenades, writing paper and a small bottle of ink, a toothbrush, family photos, and more. Coveting it in his childhood, Sledge’s youngest son, Henry, asked if he could use it to carry his school books “because my friends would think he was cool”. Adds Henry: “As I recall, he smiled and said, ‘I don’t think so, big shot.'” (Courtesy of an anonymous collector; photos by Beth Black Photography)
The Marines’ Ka-Bar combat knife, which Sledge praised for its quality and balance, appears repeatedly in his book. He remembers his instructor telling him, “Sure, you’ll probably open more C-ration cans than the Japs with this knife, but if a Jap ever jumps in your hole, you’ll be better off with a Ka-Bar than any other.” . knife. It’s the best and it’s tough too.” (Courtesy of an anonymous collector; photos by Beth Black Photography)
A cap that landed in Peleliu with a Japanese Naval Landing Forces infantryman went home with Sledge. Mementos of enemy slain were highly sought after, and during lulls in fighting, Marines and soldiers would collect them from the fallen. (Courtesy of an anonymous collector; photos by Beth Black Photography)
American fighters began extracting gold teeth from the Japanese dead. When Sledge made a move to follow his lead, a comrade stopped him. “He was a good friend and an excellent, genuine person whose sensibilities had not been crushed by the war,” Sledge recalls gratefully. “He was just trying to help me keep some of my stuff.” Instead, Sledge removed and kept these Japanese Army enlisted soldier collar insignia. (Courtesy of an anonymous collector; photos by Beth Black Photography)
Among the most coveted prizes on the battlefield were hara-kiri knives, used in seppuku, the Japanese ritual suicide. Sledge pulled it out of a bunker on an island, Ngesebus, a few hundred meters north of Peleliu. “The men gloated, compared, and often traded their prizes,” Sledge wrote. “It was uncivilized, as all war is, and it was conducted with that particular savagery that characterized the fighting between the Marines and the Japanese.” (Courtesy of an anonymous collector; photos by Beth Black Photography)
This M1911 .45 caliber pistol had belonged to Sledge’s father, a medic who had been in the Army in World War I and had sent it to Sledge once he was abroad. Since the men were not supposed to return home with the guns they were issued, Sledge brought documents stating the gun was his. Henry Sledge remembers his father saying of that last trip: “When I went down to the foot of the gangplank, I had to show the lieutenant something to prove the .45 was mine. I did, and I said, ‘Sir, this is my personal property,’ and he just waved me in.” (Courtesy Anonymous Collector; Photos by Beth Black Photography)
this article first appeared in WWII Magazine
