The 307th Infantry regiment departed San Francisco on 23 March 1944 and arrived in Hawaii on 1 April. The 307th first saw combat during the liberation of Guam in July, 1944. The 307th served in the liberation of the Philippines,[9] arriving on 23 November 1944. The 2nd Battalion was detached for duty on Samar from 30 November until 14 December. The regiment assaulted Yakabi Shima on 26 March and Company G assaulted Kuba Shima on 27 March. The regiment fought on Okinawa from 27 April though 27 June.[10][11] Arrived in Japan for occupation duties on 5 October 1945 and inactivated there 15 March 1946.
Soldier, Son, Father, Husband
Yonder man, while his spirit was diseased, Himself had joy in his own evil plight, Though to us, who were sane, he brought distress. But now, since he has respite from his plague, He with sore grief is utterly cast down, And we likewise, no less than heretofore. Are there not two woes here instead of one?
TECMESSA, war bride of the Greek officer, Ajax, speaks. ‘Ajax’ By Sophocles, written 440 B.C.E (Translation by R. C. Trevelyan)
VA Hospital, Iron Mountain, Michigan
“God, let me die,” the old man cried out, the agonized plea trailing off into a moan. He lay naked, thrashing on the steel bed, the sheets tossed off, an air bubble in the catheter tube advancing, retreating, his anus extruding excrement. “Let me die.”
High winds off the lake racing late fall clouds over Michigan’s Upper Peninsula threatened the season’s first snow. Within the Veterans Administration hospital, the room was clean and silent, its walls a pale green, the bed a military-style functional unit, the stainless steel stand holding the saline drip relatively new.
Colonel Richard Belisle, erect in the steel chair, watched his father, Lott Belisle , the once-hard man, the dark blemishes on his chest resembling the non-bleeding wounds of grenade shards. Richard watched, as if perched at the transom, conscious only of a low hum in his ears, as if an artillery round had fallen short.
Richard’s mother, Berta, eyes hypoxia-dulled, lungs ravaged by emphysema, an oxygen tube threaded beneath her nose, sat at the head of the bed, unseeing eyes upon her husband.
Marie-Jeanne now caressed Lott’s temple, passed her hand over his stubbled jaw, and the dying man calmed, his face moving into the touch, his body exuding gratitude. She looked into her husband’s eyes. Her father-in-law, sensing her absence, began to hoot terror-filled animal cries, wrenching her attention from her husband to her father-in-law, an emotional triage.
The duty nurse, efficient, kind, and brisk, entered the room and moved bedside to check the drip, eyeball the saline solution level, change the urine bag, and wipe away the excrement. She murmured something to Marie-Jeanne, who paused, then nodded in agreement. The nurse turned to Berta. “Mrs. Belisle, the sheets irritate Lott’s skin, and he throws them off. I will leave him uncovered. Do you understand?”
Berta looked up slowly. The nurse was patient. Berta shook her head once. Yes, she understood, or yes, leave him naked, and returned her gaze to the bed. Lott’s moaning had become monotonous and inarticulate, as if he were muttering the rosary. Marie-Jeanne cocked her head to Lott’s murmurs, gazing through the window across the bare forest crowns.
A silence seemed to envelop the room, or rather, it was a low growl, like a distant truck engine lugging. The nurse laid her fingers to Lott’s throat, she and Marie-Jeanne looking into one another’s eyes. The nurse shook her head.