Alaska must remember, honor its own roots

With Armed Forces day behind us, we now look forward to Memorial Day, Flag Day and Independence Day. For many, these are holidays that mean a day off work. For me, it is a time to think about the troops and country.

Recently, I have been spending time reading about the World War II history of Attu. It is a somber subject with little room for sentiments of glory.

For obvious reasons, some Alaskans have a good grasp of what happened at Attu during WWII. But for those of you who were raised, lived or perhaps traveled in the Lower 48, it’s no surprise to learn that the majority of Americans have no idea of what happened on American soil during the war. Some of those who are aware of what happened still think it was just a small skirmish. The fact that Attu served as our first real offensive land battle against the Japanese and was a sign of what was to come has been largely forgotten. In fact, it is often referred to as the “Forgotten Battle.”

While many Alaskans know the history, for the benefit of those who don’t here’s a primer.

The Japanese took Attu on June 3, 1942, because they believed the Aleutian Islands offered a strategic opportunity for bombing the West Coast. Defensively, they also believed the islands had the potential to be used by the United States to attack the Japanese mainland. They would hold Attu (and Kiska) until May 1943. Contrary to the popular belief that the Aleutians were temporarily ignored by the U.S., Gen. Billy Mitchell told Congress, “I believe that in the future, whoever holds Alaska will hold the world. I think it is the most important strategic place in the world.”

Another forgotten aspect of the Attu campaign was the forcible removal of Aleuts from the Aleutian Islands before the Japanese arrived. Many, if not most, were placed in internment camps similar to what Japanese-Americans endured at the same time. And tragically, the Japanese murdered many of the Aleuts remaining on Attu. Entire families were eliminated. Others were taken as slave workers back to Japan. Most were never seen again.

When U.S. forces invaded Attu, the campaign was supplied and prepared for the estimated 72 hours it would take to defeat the Japanese. However, getting the supplies to shore proved to be a disaster, as we were not prepared for the harsh terrain of the Alaska tundra. Terrible weather also worked against the troops. Frostbite, mud, sudden snowstorms with whiteout conditions, fog and rough seas all worked against the U.S. forces and aided the enemy. In a scene that the U.S. would see again at Guadalcanal and other campaigns, the Japanese remained eerily silent as U.S. forces landed. They had retreated to the hills and waited to draw our forces in close, using snipers and mortars to make every step or advance a risk. By occupying the high ground, they could see and bring fire to bear on our troops.

When the Japanese begin to attack with well-placed machine guns, mortars and artillery it quickly became apparent that the expected easy 72-hour victory was not to be. The effort to defeat the 2,900 Japanese on Attu would end up taking more than two weeks and claim almost 4,000 American lives. The battle was unique from the campaigns that would take place against the Japanese in the months and years to come in that it was conducted almost entirely by the U.S. Army (as opposed to Marines) and was the only major battle to take place between the Japanese and United States in arctic conditions. But otherwise, it was our first real education in what direct land battle with the Japanese would be like. The Japanese did not believe in taking prisoners or becoming prisoners themselves. Of the 2,900 Japanese troops we faced, only 29 were taken prisoner. None of them were officers.

Today there is a large monument on Attu, placed there by Japan with the cooperation of the U.S. government. An inscription on the monument, written in Japanese and English, reads “In memory of all those who sacrificed their lives in the islands and seas of the North Pacific during World War II and in dedication to world peace.”

In recent times, I have learned that there are a few veterans of Attu petitioning to have the monument removed. I must admit, I was initially surprised by that. I couldn’t fathom how a monument to peace could be anything but positive. So I researched the subject a little and it turns out the monument is erected not far from where the last surviving Japanese did a banzai charge that caught our troops by surprise. When the Japanese overran an aid station, they massacred the injured men in their cots and tents. The sentiment among these veterans is that there wouldn’t have been any lost lives that day had the Japanese not taken the island in the first place, let alone bomb Pearl Harbor and initiated a war against the United States. It’s hard for me to argue against that logic. These men feel that if any monument is to be in place, it should be solely for our own troops and erected by our government.

Before I wrote this column, I called and interviewed somebody to get his perspective — L.E. Compton, my grandfather. He is alive and well at 93 years old. He is a veteran of World War II. And he was at Attu. He said he was glad that I was writing this article and he liked knowing that there are still those who remembered what happened on our own soil during the war. We spoke of the monument (he also wishes for it to be removed) and the uneventful invasion of the neighboring island of Kiska (the Japanese quickly retreated before we arrived). He talked about American and Japanese ships in fog so thick they would pass each other without realizing the other side was there. He talked about the bombing of Dutch Harbor.

As Alaskans, I believe we have a duty to remember what happened to our soldiers — and the Aleut residents of Aleutian Islands — because the nation of Japan invaded Attu.

I think we have an obligation to make sure our unique history is discussed in detail in our history classes. Perhaps if we can make a point of never forgetting the sacrifices that took place in our own state, we can help the rest of the nation remember, too.

Ben Compton is a Palmer resident and publishes his column under the tagline “Compton’s Corner,” the same title used by his grandmother, Phyllis Compton, a longtime Frontiersman columnist.