WWII vet recalls days leading up to war’s end

Charles C. Talbot doesn’t keep many reminders of his days as a World War II Marine corporal.

The former 34-year Baker Oil employee has his twice-worn wool ceremonial uniform.

He has a mahogany photo album made and given to him by a fellow Marine and a copy of the Saipan Beacon, a military base publication, from the day World War II was declared over.

And then there is the collection of photos from every battle fought in the Pacific theater of operation, temporarily on loan to the Regional Military Museum in Houma.

More important than artifacts, Talbot, 86, has memories of 34 months in the last true global conflict.

As a member the 2nd Marine Division, he survived attacks from the Japanese Imperial Army, and secured airbases so American bomber pilots could attack mainland Japan.

Over 1,000 World War II veterans die every year, according to U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs estimates. With many of the period’s remaining veterans in their 80s and 90s, historians believe the living members of what has been called “the Greatest Generation” could disappear by 2020.

Americans will gather for parades and programs on Monday for the 141st observance of Memorial Day. While the day is dedicated to remembering the sacrifices of fallen soldiers in battle, it is also a time to learn and value those veterans living among us.

“We’re fighting two wars right now. You wonder if people appreciate the freedoms our military has provided us,” Talbot said. “Some groups are and some aren’t.”

Born in Morgan City and reared in Montegut since he was 8 years old, Talbot graduated from Terrebonne High School in 1940.

He admitted he did not keep close tabs on the war raging in Europe. He was too busy working for Louisiana Power and Light installing utility poles in the marshes outside of New Orleans.

Two events would bring the war home to Talbot. First was the attack on Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941. The second was German submarines sinking freighters in the Gulf of Mexico near the mouth of the Mississippi River.

Fearing being drafted and having no control over which military branch he would serve, Talbot enlisted in the Marine Corps Reserves on Nov. 2, 1942, at age 20.

“My choice of service was the Marine Corps primarily because of the training,” he explained. “I wanted the best of the best – not that the other services didn’t have good training.”

It wasn’t a decision Talbot entered into lightly. Many of his childhood friends were in the Houma National Guard unit.

And he had lost one close friend, fellow Montegut native Russell Redmond, who died in the Bataan Death March. The American Legion Post 272 in Montegut is named in Redmond’s honor.

Talbot’s younger brother, Ernest Jr., would join the Army and serve in Europe.

Talbot and the other recruits who arrived from New Orleans by train at the Marine San Diego Base endured a tough, three-week boot camp.

Afterward, he spent three weeks at Camp Pendleton in California training in firearms and hand-to-hand combat.

On the rifle range, Talbot qualified as an expert marksman and sharpshooter.

“When the war first started, there wasn’t much training or equipment,” he said. “We weren’t really prepared for a war, but everybody worked together.”

Talbot was armed with an M1 Garand single-action bolt rifle and a Colt .38 semiautomatic pistol, both dating back to World War I, an ammunition belt and a bayonet.

He departed for the Pacific theater in January 1943 and arrived in New Caledonia, part of the Royalty Island Group, inhabited mainly by French exiles.

The Marines were given a direct and arduous task – island hop across the Pacific Ocean until they got to mainland Japan for a land invasion.

“We hit every island that had an airport on it,” Talbot said. “That gave us time to dig in, set up fortifications and get the equipment on the islands.”

Talbot credited the Landing Craft, Vehicle, Personnel (LCVP), better known as the Higgins boats built in New Orleans, for saving many lives. With its flat bottom and drawn down-bow ramp, the Higgins boat allowed soldiers to disembark right on the shoreline rather than in the pounding surf.

While that was good for landing soldiers closer to their target, it also put them within firing range of the well-entrenched Japanese.

“A lot of guys got killed as soon as those doors fell because they knew where we were,” Talbot said.

Of the 11 battles fought in the Pacific theater, Talbot was involved in three – Guam (July 21 – Aug. 8, 1944), Peleliu (September through November 1944), and Iwo Jima (Feb. 19 – March 26, 1945). Peleliu was the only one where he engaged the Japanese.

What was expected to be a weeklong battle took three weeks because of the large Japanese cannons installed on tracks and placed in the island’s cliffs.

“When they wanted to shoot us, they opened this big steel door, rolled the guns out, then fired, rolled it back in and closed the steel door,” Talbot explained. “We cut the hinges off the door so it would stay open. Then we used the flamethrowers.

“It worked really well because you could throw that flame 40-feet around a corner, and it would burn them,” he added.

Of his only experience in combat, Talbot said, “You’re not really conscious of the dangers. You just know you’ve got to fight to live.”

Between reassignments, Talbot was stationed in Saipan. He could hear and see American B-29 bombers taking off with full payloads around 7 p.m. from Tinian, three miles away.

About 4 a.m., he could hear the returning fire from Japan.

“(The bombers) would come back and one or two of them would be all shot up,” Talbot said. “Back in those days, they were just depending on gravitation. They didn’t have anything that could pinpoint a target like we have today.”

He was in Saipan when the Enola Gay flew its historic mission to drop the atomic bomb on Hiroshima on Aug. 6, 1945.

“Everybody blames (President Harry) Truman for doing that, but he sure saved a lot of lives,” Talbot said. “I wish he had done it a little sooner. “

“Many of the Japanese committed suicide rather than surrender in the battle,” he added.

On Aug. 15, 1945, Talbot was given a copy of the military base’s publication, Saipan Beacon, declaring Japan had surrendered. Talbot recalled the moment as being anticlimactic.

“I knew the war was over when the bomb was dropped,” he said.

Talbot served for 34 months with no leave. He was promoted once from private to corporal and did not receive any ribbons or accommodations for his service.

“Back in those days, the Marine Corps didn’t pay too much attention to medals,” Talbot explained. “We were gone so much and changing divisions. They didn’t rate you too much. If you got a promotion, you were lucky. They were hard to come by.”

He was discharged Dec. 7, 1945, four years to the day of the Pearl Harbor attack.

After coming back home, he took some time off to visit family before finding work in the oilfields. Like millions of other World War II veterans, he hesitated to discuss his years in the war with anyone.

“They always wanted to ask questions about the war, and I didn’t care to talk about that,” Talbot said. “My great-grandson said, ‘My Pa Pa was in the war, but he won’t talk about it.'”

Talbot finally opened up about his war experiences in 1992 to his niece for a college assignment.

Since then he has gotten more comfortable talking about his role in the war. As his wife Gwen explained, he did it so the next generation would have an accurate reflection of his time in World War II.

“We try and keep records as best we can,” she said, “because, hopefully, history can and will be written correctly about the events that happened and the people that served.”

Corp. Charles Talbot and his wife Gwen pour over a few of his World War II possessions in their Houma residence. Items include the wool ceremonial uniform he wore the day he left and came back from the Pacific theater, his portrait picture taken at Camp Pendleton, Ca. during boot camp, and a copy of the August 15, 1945 Saipan Beacon when the war against Japan ended.