American Soldiers
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MODERN WAR STUDIES
Theodore A. Wilson General Editor
Raymond A. Callahan J. Garry Clifford Jacob W. Kipp Allan R. Millett Carol Reardon
Dennis Showalter David R. Stone Series Editors
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American Soldiers Ground Combat in the World Wars, Korea, and Vietnam
Peter S. Kindsvatter
Foreword by Russell F. Weigley
University Press of Kansas
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© 2003 by the University Press of Kansas All rights reserved
Published by the University Press of Kansas (Lawrence, Kansas 66045), which was organized by the Kansas Board of Regents and is operated and funded by Emporia State University, Fort Hays State University, Kansas State University, Pittsburg State University, the University of Kansas, and Wichita State University
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Kindsvatter, Peter S. American soldiers : ground combat in the World Wars, Korea, and
Vietnam / Peter S. Kindsvatter; foreward by Russell F. Weigley. p. cm. — (Modern war studies)
Includes bibliographical references (p. ) and index. ISBN 978-0-7006-1416-6 (pbk. : alk. paper) ISBN 978-0-7006-2659-5 (ebook) 1. Combat—History—20th century. 2. United States. Army. Infantry—
History—20th century. 3. United States. Marine Corps—History—20th century. I. Title. II. Series.
UA28 .K55 2003 355'.00973'0904—dc21
2002012957
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data is available.
Printed in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
The paper used in the print publication meets the minimum requirements of the American National Standard for Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials Z39.48-1984.
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Contents
Foreword, Russell F. Weigley
Acknowledgments
Introduction
1. Rallying to the Flag
2. The Environment of War
3. Immersion in the Environment
4. Coping with the Environment of War
5. For Comrades and Country
6. Failing to Cope with the Environment of War
7. The Joys of War
8. Closing with the Enemy
9. Leadership in Combat
10. Dwellers Beyond the Environment of War
11. Equal Opportunity in the Foxhole
Conclusion: Don’t Expect Too Much from War
Notes
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Bibliography
Index
Photo Gallery
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Foreword
John Keegan introduced his classic study of the experience of combat, The Face of Battle, with the lament that no military historian had hitherto succeeded in conveying that experience realistically.* Just what it felt like to place yourself in the way of numerous deadly missiles, blade strokes and bayonet thrusts, and clubbing weapons of various kinds and to persist in moving forward into the storm had, he believed, eluded previous historians. Keegan set out to offer a corrective, and he did so impressively, keeping sight of the simple, central point, amid a good deal of complex exposition, that the dominant emotion and experience in battle is to be scared.
Notwithstanding the classic stature of Keegan’s book, there is an element of the self-serving in his introductory remarks about how writers before him had failed to get matters right regarding combat. Disappointed by that apparent attitude, I myself initially put The Face of Battle aside. It required insistent friends to persuade me to pick it up again, conquer my distaste for what proved to be a small part of it, and discover that on the whole it is a great book. Putting aside, however, the self-satisfaction of Keegan’s contrasting his own work with other historians’ accounts of the nature of combat, his position is not without merit. It is exceedingly difficult to capture in writing the chaos of events and emotions that occur in combat. All descriptions of the climactic events of war dilute them.
A great virtue of the present volume by Peter Kindsvatter is that, by reading and passing on to us his findings in an extraordinary number of American soldiers’ narratives of combat during the four major conscript- army wars of the twentieth century, he has identified a surprisingly large
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number of writers who have in some measure overcome this difficulty and who actually tell us what it is to be in battle. He presents generous samplings of such writings within his own interpretive analysis to create a major addition to that slim body of literature that does convey a sense of the reality of battle. Kindsvatter’s book is based firmly on the firsthand accounts of combat written by twentieth-century American soldiers and marines of the World Wars, Korea, and Vietnam. Its author acts as a sensitive, skillful mediator between the writers and us.
One of the merits of John Keegan’s The Face of Battle is that Keegan provides so much insight into the social history of the British soldiers with whom he is concerned because he knows that without understanding whence the soldiers came the reader will not be able to comprehend properly how they behaved in combat. Similarly, Peter Kindsvatter leads up to the combat experience with detailed examinations of his writers’ accounts of the entire process of living in the armed forces, from induction through basic and advanced training. Through the soldiers’ writings he sympathetically explores their ambivalent relationships with their families and friends back home to whom they knew they could not adequately communicate what they experienced, and their less ambivalent, more often hostile attitudes toward the rear echelons of men who wore military uniforms but did not share the trials at the cutting edge.
Yet it is experiencing combat and how men could enter and endure it with which Kindsvatter is principally concerned. Similar issues of why men were able to enter the hell of combat and why they stuck to it have been addressed recently for the American Civil War by James M. McPherson in For Cause and Comrades.* As his title implies, McPherson found that the writings of Civil War soldiers indicate that they fought first for ideological reasons—for their cause and country—and secondarily for their comrades—for motives having to do with the bonding of friends and with unit solidarity. Kindsvatter finds the same scale of motivational values among his twentieth-century soldiers, which will cause some of us to rethink accustomed beliefs. We have had a tendency, drawn from impressionistic and insufficient evidence, to believe that the more worldly wise soldiers of the century just ended were more likely than the romantic rustics of the Victorian era to fight simply and cynically just to get an unpleasant job over with. Kindsvatter shows that combat motivation remained rooted in the same kind of ideological, patriotic, and comradeship values in twentieth-century American mass armies as in our first mass army, even if less sentimentally expressed.
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Kindsvatter has used more self-consciously literary sources than McPherson; where the latter relied mainly on unpublished letters and diaries, Kindsvatter has drawn from published fiction, memoirs, and histories by combat veterans. Fiction and nonfiction have been of nearly equal value for his purposes, but if there is an edge, fictionalized memories of combat seem to come a bit closer to presenting a cogent version of the experience of battle. Perhaps feeling obliged to adhere to what can be confirmed as the literal truth interferes with capturing a fuller truth, even in memoirs, let alone in the work of historians, thus reaffirming the degree of accuracy within John Keegan’s complaint about military historians who preceded him.
We can hope that by introducing these literary sources—that approach about as closely as words are able toward conveying what it is like to be part of war—Kindsvatter will bring us all to a better appreciation of that uniquely intense experience. We can hope, too, that Kindsvatter will succeed in sending his readers to examine the best of his sources for themselves. Perhaps a better comprehension of the realities of war will help us stay away from warlike policies, but I do not intend this Foreword to convey any such simpleminded antiwar message, nor is that by any means the purpose of Kindsvatter’s book. Through the book, however, we learn that those soldiers who approached combat informed by the best literary descriptions of it, though they could not fully be prepared for what they were entering—nothing could accomplish that—were at least more ready than those who came only with romantic images from the movies. If we are to continue to engage in combat, as we will, even that slight advantage for those new to it might make them better soldiers. More than that, it surely must be of some value for policymakers and for those who vote for policymakers to possess a modicum of understanding of what war is. Peter Kindsvatter gives us more than that modicum.
—Russell F. Weigley
*John Keegan, The Face of Battle (New York: Viking Press, 1976), pp. 15–54, 72– 78.
*James M. McPherson, For Cause and Comrades: Why Men Fought in the Civil War (New York, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997). McPherson deals with similar themes, although with more emphasis on why men enlisted in the first place and somewhat less on why they continued fighting, in What They Fought For, 1861–1865 (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1994).
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Acknowledgments
This book, substantial as it is, started out as an even longer dissertation that required considerable refining. The dissertation and resulting book would not have been possible without the help of my devoted and talented wife, Marty. She not only typed the dissertation and the revised manuscript that followed but also applied her editing skills and common sense to make them better. She did these tasks while working full time to support us.
That this dissertation had publication potential in the first place owes much to my committee at Temple University. I was yet another student fortunate enough to have his work receive the thoughtful criticism and close attention of Dr. Russell F. Weigley, who supported and encouraged me during the entire Ph.D. process, right through the job-hunting stage. Dr. Richard H. Immerman, a skillful editor, went beyond the call of duty to carefully read and thoughtfully edit my dissertation. Dr. David Alan Rosenberg added his considerable breadth of knowledge to the process. My outside reader, historian and retired U.S. Army colonel Dr. Henry G. Gole, shared my interest in the study of the soldier in combat, provided thoughtful insights, and shared his personal experiences as a combatant in two wars.
I must also thank Dr. Dennis E. Showalter, who not only read the manuscript I sent to the University Press of Kansas, twice (the long and longer versions), but also provided constructive criticism and comments while remaining steadfastly supportive. Finally, I want to thank Dr. Jack Atwater, the director of the U.S. Army Ordnance Museum, and his staff, Ed Heasley, Alan Killinger, Tim Tidwell, Judy Garrett, and Elmer Wymer. They have assisted me in my official duties as the Ordnance Corps
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historian in myriad ways and have also provided moral support while I finished this project.
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What it is that makes a man go out into dangerous places and get himself shot at with increasing consistency until finally he dies, is an interesting subject for speculation.
And an interesting study.
—James Jones, WWII: A Chronicle of Soldiering
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Introduction
What, indeed, motivated novelist James Jones and his fellow GIs in World War II, or American soldiers in World War I or the Korean and Vietnam Wars, to go out into dangerous places? And once there—in the combat zone—what enabled them to persevere until all too often they did die, or were wounded or emotionally broken? These questions generate more than just interesting speculation. The answers are critically important. Men facing battle or charged with leading troops need to understand the nature of these “dangerous places” to be better prepared to deal with them. Civilian leaders who order American soldiers into harm’s way need to appreciate the potentially devastating effect that combat can have on those soldiers. The American people must realize how vital their unequivocal support is to soldiers trying to endure war’s hardships and dangers. Too often in the twentieth century novice soldiers, leaders, and citizens alike did not comprehend these basic realities.
Gaining an appreciation for the nature of combat involves an examination of why the citizen joined, or at least consented to serve in, the U.S. Army or Marine Corps; the role of training in converting the recruit into a soldier; the physical and emotional hardships and dangers of combat; how soldiers coped, or failed to cope, with the combat environment; what motivated them to carry the fight to the enemy; and the soldiers’ relationships with the home front.
Speculation on James Jones’s “interesting subject” thus encompasses a wide range of topics. The scope of this book, therefore, is necessarily broad but remains manageable because of several constraints. The discussion is limited to the experiences of American soldiers and marines.
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This experience certainly invites comparison with soldiers in other armies, but such a comparison would be a book in itself. The focus is on ground combat at the individual and small-unit level. Central to this approach is the American infantryman and, to a lesser extent, other combatants such as tank crewmen, artillerymen, and engineers. The perspectives of noncombatants who were close to the fighting, such as war correspondents, medical personnel, and chaplains, are also included. This book is neither a combat history nor a tactical treatise but an examination of what the combat envronment was like and how soldiers reacted to it.
The American soldier is examined through the course of four wars— the world wars, and the Korean and Vietnam Wars. The soldiers’ experiences in these wars certainly varied in important ways, but these wars, despite their differences, also encompass a distinct period of American military history. They are the wars of the draft era, fought primarily, though by no means exclusively, by the conscripted citizen- soldier. They are also modern wars, largely fought conventionally, and of sufficient duration and violence to have a serious impact on the physical and emotional well being of those who fought them. These characteristics distinguish them from the wars that preceded or followed.
Where best to learn about the soldier’s experience in the wars of the draft era? From what the veterans themselves have to say. This book draws upon memoirs, novels, and oral histories. A few of these works were written by war correspondents, but most reflect the experiences of enlisted men and junior officers. Works by marines and soldiers have been consulted, and the term “soldiers” in this study includes marines, unless otherwise specified. Each war, and in the case of World War II the Pacific theater and Mediterranean/European theater, is represented by twenty-one to thirty works.
A wide range of secondary sources in military psychiatry, military sociology, literary criticism, and history supplements the direct testimony of the veterans. This secondary literature is invaluable for several reasons. The psychiatrists, psychologists, and sociologists provide useful insights, often based directly on their work with soldiers or veterans, concerning the causes of stress in combat, how men try to cope with that stress, and what motivates them to “stick it out.” The sociological studies and surveys also provide statistical support, at least from World War II on, for many claims made by the soldiers in their memoirs and novels. The literary critics, many of whom are also veterans, provide recommendations as to which memoirs and novels are most significant. More important, some critics go
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beyond matters of style and structure to assess the themes, or messages, contained in these works. The historical studies either provide a narrative combat history told from the soldier’s perspective or specifically address soldier behavior.
As for the primary sources, the vast majority are soldiers’ memoirs or firsthand accounts written by war correspondents. Some of these books are based on thoughts and experiences recorded shortly after the fact, as in the case of memoirs based on diaries and letters and the accounts written by the correspondents. Historian William L. Langer explains that such contemporary accounts can be refreshingly straightforward and unaffected, as was his combination memoir and unit history, written immediately after the Armistice in November 1918: “As I reread this simple narrative after a lifetime spent in the teaching and writing of history, I found its immediacy rather appealing. It has nothing of the sophisticated rationalization that invariably creeps into reminiscences recorded long after the event.”1
Soldiers’ diaries and letters may possess this virtue of immediacy, but men in combat did not have much time to record their thoughts and experiences in detail, and they often had little pocket space for more than a small notebook. Not surprisingly, most memoirs were written after war’s end, sometimes many years after, and the authors relied on recollections. Even memoirs based on diaries and letters were often fleshed out with added-on commentary. Critics argue the pros and cons of these after-the- fact recollections. The most obvious problem, as historian Ronald Schaffer points out, is the potential for distortion: “Postwar reconstructions of what happened were subject to distortions of memory and reflected not simply immediate wartime experiences but later thoughts and occurrences as well.”2
Another concern, voiced by James Jones, is that memories fade with time, especially memories of war’s unpleasantries: “Thus we old men can in all good conscience sit over our beers at the American Legion on Friday nights and recall with affection moments of terror thirty years before. Thus we are able to tell the youngsters that it wasn’t all really so bad.”3
Jones’s conventional wisdom aside, however, the reality is that long- term memory of traumatic, unusual, or dramatic events remains vivid and constant. One memoir in this book is unique in doubling as a research device to measure memory. Alice M. Hoffman, an oral historian, interviewed her husband, Howard, an experimental psychologist who had been a mortarman in World War II, about his wartime experiences. A series of interviews, conducted in 1978 and 1982, were checked against