Marine stands tall during fiercest fight

On Sunday, Dec. 7, 1941, an 18-year-old junior engineer with the U.S. Army Engineers was returning home to Milwaukie, Ore., to see his family. After a long time spent on a seagoing dredge, it was finally his turn to take leave.

He had everything going for him -- a year out of high school, he held a great job with lots of responsibility. He caught a Greyhound bus from Eureka, Calif., and headed home. His mom and sister were at church when he arrived home that morning, and his dad had him go to Portland to pick them up, and a newspaper. The young man forgot the paper, but returned to the store a little while later. His life changed in a second.

"I saw the headlines about the Japanese bombing Pearl Harbor, and I ran home and told my mom and dad that I was enlisting in the service tomorrow," Jim Grazzell said. "They didn't understand why, I had a good job, everything as going good for me. I told them that they need people, and I'm signing up. It was the right thing to do."

Grazzell got in line the next morning, and a few days after, he was in boot camp with the U.S. Marine Corps. At 5-feet, 6-inches tall, Grazzell found himself looking up to the other Marines. Throughout his career, however, he stood head and shoulders above many other Marines.

"It was great," Grazzell said of boot camp. "I was a high school wrestler, and I was in great physical shape. I loved it."

After boot camp, volunteers were sought to board a ship headed to Pearl Harbor. "You never volunteered for anything," Grazzell said. Grazzell was "volunteered" for the mission because of his seagoing past. "I couldn't go through sea school because I was too short, but it didn't matter then."

The rest of his platoon was sent to the South Pacific. He learned later that half of his platoon was killed in those first few months of the war. Being "volunteered" to board the USS Lexington may have saved his life, he said.

Aboard the Lexington, he was assigned to a five-inch anti-aircraft gun. His job was to grab the shell casings after they were fired, and organize them. He was also trained to be a gun pointer.

On May 8, 1942, the first battle in the Pacific began in the Coral Sea, in the waters southwest of the Solomon Islands and east from New Guinea. The Japanese and American forces engaged in a fierce fight.

"The battle was just mind-boggling," Grazzell recalls. "There were so many planes flying and the guns were shooting fast and furious. You had no concept of time -- it was probably a couple of minutes but if felt like days.

"Then, my gunpointer just lost it. One guy jumped overboard, even. My guy couldn't take it and jumped up on the gun and jumped onto the flight deck above. I jumped in there and took his place and started firing," Grazzell said.

About that time, an explosion rocked the Lexington.

"The bomb was 500 pounds and tore through an ammo locker on Gun 6. I was on Gun 4. It was close," Grazzell said. "It killed everyone on that gun and half of the people on my gun. It killed the guy who was where I was supposed to be if my gunner didn't lose it.

"My hair was singed up to my sweatband from the flash that came up over the gun I was behind," Grazzell said. "Being behind that gun saved my life."

The bomb burrowed into the gasoline and ammunition areas of the Lexington, exploding and sending flames skyward. The ship was severely damaged, and time was running out.

"It was like a holocaust. The ship was on fire, people were dying. The things that took place on the ship that day you just can't believe," Grazzell said.

Later that evening, the USS Lexington succumbed to the damage, and she sunk.

"We lost the Lexington, but we won the battle," Grazzell said. He was 19 at the time.

Following the Battle of the Coral Sea, Grazzell was once again "volunteered," this time to be a drill instructor. He took two platoons through basic training, and he remembers the time fondly.

"I had a group of guys who ran the obstacle course the first day, and there was a mouthy one in the group. They get back, and he's groaning that if I had to do it, I'd never make them do it," Grazzell said. "So I tell them to pick their champion. Pick the guy out of the group who they think can beat me. If he beats me, I tell them, they'll never run the obstacle course again. But I beat him, I tell them, they're running it every day."

The group picked a soldier who was a halfback with the Texas A&M football team. He beat Grazzell over the wall, the first obstacle, but Grazzell quickly made up the time.

"Fifteen minutes later I finished fresh as a daisy, and five minutes later here comes their champion," Grazzell said. "And Mr. Mouthy starts in about me not holding them to the deal. A deal's a deal. They ran it every day."

A few years later, while serving as a mechanic, Grazzell ran into a familiar soldier.

"He asked me if I was a drill instructor, and I told him I had two platoons, and it turned out he was in one of them," Grazzell said. "He told me that I was the only instructor they liked. That was one of my happiest days. It meant a lot to me."

Grazzell served the rest of his career in the U.S. Marine Corps as a mechanic, working primarily on airplanes. He attended numerous training schools, always graduating in the top 10 percent of his class.

In mid-November 1944, Grazzell was stationed on the island of Majuro in the Marshall Islands. A pilot who didn't heed Grazzell's advice as a mechanic fired up the engine on a place while Grazzell was on the wing, sending Grazzell flying himself. He was drug by fellow soldiers to safety, but he couldn't walk.

"They were going to send me out to another ship where there was a hospital, but I was three days from taking leave, and I wasn't about to miss it. I sat up in my bed and tried to make myself walk. I kept working until I could do it through the pain," Grazzell said.

He convinced doctors it was fine, even though he could barely take a step. He went on leave, and was able to make it home for Christmas as a result.

"It was a little bump that didn't even make it on my records," Grazzell said.

After spending time as a mechanic on the East Coast for a while, World War II was winding down.

At the last minute, there was one last deployment scheduled for Grazzell, just weeks before he was to leave the Corps.

"I knew I'd be stuck out there for six months, and my back was killing me, so I went to the docs and they took some X-rays," Grazzell said. "It turned out I had busted off my second lumbar vertebrae when I fell off that plane. It wasn't even on my records, so they didn't believe me."

Grazzell eschewed surgery, and underwent physical therapy. A few weeks later, on Oct. 19, 1945, he got a visit.

"I was surprised, but they said I was being medically discharged," Grazzell said. "The Marine Corps was great. The experiences you have are wonderful. You can't believe the things I got to see and do."

Grazzell spent his post-military career as an architect in the Lower 48.

His son went on to be a captain in the U.S. Army, while his late daughter became a fashion designer. Both received full-ride scholarships to college for their prowess in the shooting sports.

"I think shooting sports are the best out there for sportsmanship and competition," he said.

His stepsons also have military careers, one of whom retired as the Sergeant Major of the Pacific Fleet, the second-highest rank in the entire Marine Corps.

In the summer of 1997, Grazzell and his wife, Ruth, moved to Alaska. It's a place they probably will never leave, he said.

"This is our home now," Grazzell said. "I love it here."