Marines tell archivist their own stories of war

Raleigh -- For these kinds of heavy stories, it seems a rather sterile place. But really, a hotel room works as well as any.

So they sit in the corner, lit by window light, and start talking.

They tell of being 17 years old, of leaving mom and dad. Of traveling by train to Camp Pendleton in San Diego and shooting rifles. Of the frisky sorts of things that boys do, the kind that get them sent to the doctor for a "down-there" checkup.

And they talk of things more serious.

Of having Japanese soldiers jump into their foxholes. Of dead bodies and of killing.

When the 5th Marine Division gathers in Raleigh for its 58th reunion, the men do reunion things. They attend a reception. They take in a ball game. They remember and hug and speak reverently of old friends.

But on the fifth floor of the North Raleigh Hilton, a few do something else. They sit in that chair in the corner of Mike Miller's room, and within the aim of a video camera, they tell their stories.

Miller is head of Marine Corps archives and special collections at the Marine Corps University in Quantico, Va. There are more than six million documents in the archives, including draft cards, photographs and news clippings donated by Marines and their families. There are also several thousand recorded oral histories.

These are the sounds and pictures that make those documents come to life.

More than 170 Marines attend the Raleigh reunion, making it fertile ground for an archivist. So Miller camps out in the hotel for a few days to collect the Marines' firsthand accounts. The 5th Division Marines invaded Iwo Jima during World War II and defended Khe Sanh during Vietnam. Most of the soldiers at the reunion are in their 80s, having served in Japan.

"These are the heroes of the Marine Corps," Miller says. "Marines today look at Iwo Jima as an icon."

When Miller attends a reunion, he tries to capture three or four histories per day. The stories can last an hour or more, and can be tough on the listener.

"It's always emotional. I carry every one of these with me."

Mostly the good times

Some of the men make arrangements in advance, knowing that Miller will be there with his camera. He finds other volunteers in the lobby. It's not difficult to find men who like to reminisce.

Philip Wade's journey to the chair takes some effort. Wade, 83, walks with a cane, slowly.

At the appointed hour, he first walks down to his room to fetch a briefcase of old photographs and documents. Then he boards the elevator and makes his way to Miller's room.

Wade, who lives in Springfield, Ill., begins by saying that he mostly remembers the good times about his military service. Then he laughs, a hearty and fervent chuckle that proves he's serious.

And true to his word, his story is a funny, matter-of-fact affair.

Prompted by Miller, he starts the story on Nov. 26, 1943, the day he was sworn into the Marines. He speaks of basic training at Camp Pendleton, of running on the beach in circles, carrying a heavy rifle above his head. It was the only time, Wade says, where he thought his body would give out. It didn't.

Wade served as a wireman, stringing communication cables during battle. He was on the island of Iwo Jima for 24 days and never saw a live Japanese soldier.

But "you could hear them talking, moving around out there," he said. "And I saw a lot of dead ones. And I smelled a lot of dead ones."

In this battle, it was not unusual for the enemy to go largely unseen. Many of the Japanese soldiers were stationed inside an intricate network of caves dug into the island.