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Week 33, Service: Philip LaViolet, WWII Veteran


My grandfather wrote on almost every picture. It's a blessing (most people are identified) but also a curse. Grampy, dear, photos have a backside

Service is the theme for week 33 of the 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks challenge. My kiddos leave for freshman year at their respective colleges next week, and when I look at them, I see my babies. While they’re away, they’ll transition from teenagers to adults with their own lives. The key word here is transition. It won’t happen overnight; they have time to evolve and transform into the people they'll become. Like I said, I still see babies, so it’s difficult to imagine that in 1943, my great-grandmother had to send her son off to war. My grandfather, Philip LaViolet, was the same age then as my children are now, only he didn’t have the luxury of time to grow up. Instead of slowly transitioning to adulthood at a college (and I’m convinced if it wasn’t for the war, he would have gone to college) he endured his military physical and shipped off to basic training. WWII changed the trajectory of his life and shaped the man he became.



One of the men drew this for their unit, complete with their commander, Bugs

Grampy Phil was part of the Army’s 585th Amphibious Assault Signal Depot Company, which participated in the Battle of Okinawa, the largest amphibious invasion of the Pacific Campaign. He served under Major Clement Pritz who was nicknamed Bugs by the troops on account of his buckteeth. They teased the man, but also held him in the highest regard. I can’t imagine the fear my grandfather felt and tried to suppress as he headed to Okinawa. The troops weren’t told where they were going or what they were expected to do until they were nearly there. They were also without mail from home for well over a month at that time, so morale was low. The troops – mostly boys barely out of high school -- were briefed on what to expect a mere two days before the invasion. The Army planned to stage a fake invasion on the southern tip of the island to draw attention away from the true target – the central eastern coast. If anything went wrong, his unit would land two hours after the initial invasion to unload signal supplies, but if everything went as planned, his unit would land four or five days later. They were also warned to be careful of the island’s deadly snakes. An untreated snake bite could kill a man within an hour. My grandfather was a planner and liked to know what to expect. The uncertainty must have added incredible stress to an already stressful situation.


During the initial wave of the battle, my grandfather’s ship was roughly two miles off the coast of Okinawa. They could hear the bursts of shells and gunfire, though not clearly. He wrote in his diary about going on deck on April 1, 1945 during the invasion.


The sun was shining brightly amidst this great inconceivable number of ships. The foggish smoke is so thick that it prevents us from seeing the island or the ships a couple of miles ahead of us. It is a beautiful and typical day for an invasion: bright day, calm sea. Even the wind is for us and blowing west, giving us camouflage from gun smoke while invading the east coast of the island.


At 6:30, all the landing crafts on this ship were unloaded from this ship, and their crew left for the Infantry ships where the Marines and the Infantry will load on these barges and storm ashore. The troops landed at 8:30 AM, Philippine wartime.


How they made out is yet to be known. It is now 9:00 AM. Planes and planes of all sorts have been pouring towards the island, knocking the hell out of it. One Jap plane had the suicidal thought of coming over our convoy. It was knocked down in no time. The 27th and 96th Divisions will invade on one side with two Marine divisions also abreast. The sight of the ships, barges, crafts, and smoke screen will be remembered by all of us for a very long time.


We have to be ready to move ashore at anytime within a two hours’ notice from today on. At 11:45, the boat teams returned to their mothership. Those from this one claim that the operation is extremely successful. Landing field called “Catenna” already taken. Very little opposition from the Japs.


Late this afternoon, we pulled closer to shore. We could see the gun flares on shore and hear the bursts very well. I guess that our troops made a lot of lucky hits since there is plenty of smoke rising in the air in various places on the island.


At supper-time we heard the Tokyo radio. It said that the whole convoy that was invading this island had been annihilated. It sure is a joke, since we are in this convoy and no enemy ships and very few planes ever showed up around here to attack us. Those that did were soon out of commission. She said the 585th was to be annihilated tonight.


Tonight at midnight, a Jap plane flew over and dropped only one bomb and then scrammed. I don’t know where. This bomber was so high that no one could see it. The bomb hit AKA 53, which was the second ship in back of this one. We were very fortunate that the bomb did not hit us instead of the former.


The 585th Amphibious Assault Signal Depot landed in Okinawa on April 5, 1945. In addition to foxholes, they used Japanese tombs as air raid shelters. By the time they landed, the Army had already started building wooden buildings and roads. Livestock from the village ran loose, and my grandfather observed that everything – the livestock, the few remaining huts, the villagers – were smaller than they were in the states. Even in the darkness of a war, my grandfather, ever an optimist, found beauty in his surroundings. He was thankful to be back on land. It wasn’t long, however, before exhaustion overwhelmed his unit. They worked unloading and delivering supplies, sometimes until 3:00 AM, and then air raids interrupted their sleep throughout the night. On some nights they got less than an hour of sleep. There’s a reason sleep depravation is used as a form of torture – it wreaks havoc on a person’s physical and mental state. On their second day in Okinawa (April 6, 1945) my grandfather wrote about an air raid that lasted from 3:00 AM to 6:00 AM, with another truly terrifying air raid picking up shortly after lunch.

After dinner we tried again to rest, but at 2:00 PM, the air raid sounded once again and this was to be our real first tryout. We ran for our dugouts. A lot of the boys are using these tombs; they make good shelters. In our foxhole we waited, but not for but a few seconds.

The first Jap plane came from the east and was heading for the ships, but just crashed into the water. A few minutes later one came from the southeast and tried to strafe all of us, but the terrific barrage laid out by all of our Army and Navy was too strong that the Jap did not last long.


About 3:00, another. The plane was shot down, but crashed in a ship before going to her ancestors. At 4:30, again one came, but this time disguised as one of our planes. Shot down and landed in an oil dump five hundred yards from here. During all this time, bullets were flying over and below us. We were all very scared. Bullets were landing right along our foxholes or going through our tents. Another plane hit an ammo dump. Still another, and this one right over our area; the AA fired right at it so bullets were flying over and around us so fast and low that it was striking our dugouts, foxholes, and the tombs. The space between God and us was not very long. The bullets were ricocheting the branches over our heads and the rocks in front of us. Rocks or dirt hit by these bullets was flying on us in our holes.


About 5:30 PM, the all-clear was sounded. We went for chow. While eating, an enemy plane just came over without anyone noticing it. When the guns let loose, the boys, mess kits and all, just made a straight dash for any hole around. This alert lasted until 7:00 PM.

After this we tried to get some sleep, but sleeping was pretty hard after all that had happened. Besides that, we were expecting parachutist attacks, so we stayed on the alert, all of us!



My grandfather was in Okinawa for five, long months. Japan surrendered in September, and his unit, then attached to the 24th Corps, headed for Korea where he remained for the duration of his time in the service. He was finally discharged on March 15, 1946, and gratefully returned home to Westbrook, Maine.



The 585th Amphibious Assault Signal Depot. My grandfather numbered each man and has a list of all their names and addresses after the war


Not surprisingly, the war changed him. He was forced to grow up too fast, and the tragedy he witnessed and some of the things he was forced to do wounded him to his core. He was a kind, gentle person. Prior to the war, he used to hunt occasionally, but after the war he refused to touch another gun. Though he kept in contact with many of the men from the 585th, he didn’t speak about the war until shortly before his death. My grandmother once confided in me that her mother-in-law, Bernadette, told her Grampy Phil slept on the floor for months and had horrible nightmares after returning home. Though he longed to get back to his civilian life, it was a difficult transition, and I know he wasn't alone. Many veterans experienced the same mental and emotional trauma. A promising student before the war, he abandoned his dream to become a chemist, and instead took a job at the local paper mill. He met my grandmother shortly after and started a family. His experience in the war probably hardened him in some ways, but he never lost his optimism, compassion for others, or his deep religious faith.


If he hadn’t been in the military, my grandfather still would have found other ways to serve society. He was that type of person; it was in his nature. With his endless energy and giving heart, he was an active member of his community. He didn’t stop. Ever. His constant volunteering drove my grandmother nuts, but it was how he thrived. Grampy was actively involved in his Catholic church, but had a deep respect for all religions and believed they shared more similarities than differences. He was president and one of the founding members of the Westbrook Ecumenical Men’s Club, which started in 1966. Their creed was, “I believe in union of spirit and diversity in worship.” He was quoted in a newspaper article saying that he hoped “that by the year 2000 we will have a common mission with all the churches.” He was a Eucharist minister, participating in non-denominational ceremonies. He established a prayer-line for neighbors in need of help. He was an active member of the Veterans’ Memorial Association, which cared for veterans’ graves, and he was also in charge of the annual city-wide rollcall service on Memorial Day in Westbrook, Maine where he and the mayor would read out the names of all Westbrook veterans. He helped recreate a lost Honor Roll plaque that listed the names of all 1,328 Westbrook residents who served in WWII. As he became older, he dedicated more of his time to senior citizens. He was a board member of the Westbrook Senior Citizens Club and president of the Friendship Club at the Westbrook-Warren Congregational Church. The group provided low-cost meals and entertainment to senior citizens. He and my grandmother also volunteered their time at a retirement home, Springbrook.



Grampy Phil with the Westbrook Mayor and the Commander of the American Legion at the dedication of The Philip LaViolet Military Collection. Photo from the Westbrook Historical Society website

Though he wanted to be a chemist and wasn't, Grampy truly should have been a history teacher. He was passionate about all history, whether it was the history of events, the history of the church, or genealogy. He was a founding member of the St. Hyacinth Church Historical Society in 1988. The collection started years before in his home where he collected church history, Franco-American history, and Westbrook history. The collection included school graduation pictures from every St. Hyacinth class from 1899-1963. When the church closed, he worked with the Westbrook Historical Society, another organization he was a part of, to transfer over all the church history to them. As part of his work with veterans and his passion for Westbrook history, he organized seven volumes of histories and obituaries of Westbrook’s veterans – a project that took him over forty years to complete. He donated artifacts from his personal collection to the Westbrook Historical Society, such as his WWII uniform (it’s so tiny!), a Japanese canteen, rice bowls, and his father’s WWI uniform hat. On May 7, 2008, the Westbrook Historical Society honored him by naming their military collection The Philip LaViolet Military Collection. The Portland Press Herald asked him why he decided to collect the histories of Westbrook veterans, and what he said moved me. Although he was speaking specifically about veterans, his words will resonate with most of us. It’s why we do genealogy.


It brings you closer to the people who are in that book. You get their whole life history. I knew a lot of them. Sometimes it kind of hurt to put their picture and obituary in. Maybe one day in the near future, my name will be in there.


Grampy Phil passed away on April 6, 2009. I love my grandfather and want to honor him, but I’m not a veteran, or part of a church, and few people have his boundless energy and his servant’s heart (I’m definitely not one of them). While I hope the historical society has taken over his important work of memorializing the veterans and that his name is indeed in one of those books, I’ve taken up the one torch I feel equipped to handle – that of family historian, our shared passion. By telling his “whole life history” I keep his spirit alive for future generations.




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