Foreword
The US actions during very early days of WWII in the Pacific was more defensive than offensive as were those in the war in Europe. The first reason was the near destruction of the US Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor by the Japanese, and it took the US some time to recover from that loss. The second reason was President Roosevelt's promise to England to help defeat Nazi Germany first and Japan second.
Two main defensive actions were fought and won in the first six months of the war -- The Battle of the Coral Sea and The Battle of Midway. Those wins along with the efforts of hundreds of men and women to reconstitute the Pacific Fleet paved the way for the first Allied offensive in the Pacific, that being an amphibious attack on the Solomon Islands and specifically the islands of Guadalcanal, Tulagi, and Florida Island. The intent of this operation was to establish a supply base and airfield on Guadalcanal to enable the Allies to capture the major Japanese base on Rabaul. From there, the Allies would "leapfrog" through the islands and eventually attack the Japanese homeland and end the war.
The initial landing on Guadalcanal was made by US Marines on 7 August, 1942. This is the story of one of those marines, Marine Private Mack Donaldson. He was nineteen at the time of the landings.
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Marine Private Mack Donaldson was surprised to hear the sergeant call his name. He couldn't figure out who would be writing to him. Mack's mother and father were both gone, victims of a car accident when he was eighteen, and he had no siblings. His mother had once told him she had a sister who lived in Oregon, but said they hadn't spoken in years. They'd had a falling out of some sort and never got back together, so she probably didn't know he existed.
He'd been on Guadalcanal since the first landings. He'd been scared to death when the ramp dropped into the water and had run as fast as he could for the beach and cover. He was surprised they met little resistance. Within a day, they had taken the beach and the airfield and then started moving supplies inland. The first mail call happened a few days later, and it was at this mail call he walked up and took the letter from Sergeant Miles.
Mack walked back to his position, sat down, and used his bayonet to slit open the envelope.
The letter was typed, something he thought a little odd. He'd seen the letters the other Marines had gotten and they were all hand written. He understood when he read the first paragraph.
July 4, 1942
Dear Private Mack R. Donaldson,
My name is Valerie Wilson and you don't know me. I am sixteen years old and I go to school here in Louisville, Kentucky, the same town you're from. My English teacher said we should write to the men in the service to let them know we support what they are doing. I picked your name from the list she had, and wrote this letter. It is typed because my handwriting is really, really hard to read most of the time. It would not do any good to send you a letter you could not read, now would it?
My teacher said we should not write anything about how America is making things to send you to fight with because spies could read our letters and figure out how to bomb the places so I won't tell you about that. I don't know much about that anyway because I am just in high school. My mother works in one of those factories but she can not tell me what she does there. She said they were sworn to secrecy before they started work and they have posters on the walls to remind them.
I will tell you a few things about me and hope I do not bore you. I like going to the park and hearing the birds sing. I like eating ice cream. My mother says that will make me fat, but so far it has not. I am five feet three inches tall without my shoes on. Mother says a woman never tells anybody how much she weighs, but I will tell you so you can get a better picture of me. I weigh ninety-five pounds. I have brown hair and some people say I am pretty. I would send you an actual picture of me, but my teacher says I should not do that. She said if you were captured (and I pray you never are) the enemy might use my picture to get you to tell them things.
I like listening to music. At school, sometimes we have dances, and I like doing that too. I do not have a boyfriend, so sometimes I have to dance with other girls, but it is still fun. Glen Miller is one of my favorite bands. Do you have a favorite band? If you do, I would like to hear what it is.
Well, since I do not know anything about you except that you are a Marine, I do not know what else to write. If you send me a letter back, please tell me about yourself. My teacher says you can not tell me where you are or what you are doing, but I do not want to hear about that anyway. I just want to be able to tell my friends about a brave Marine I know who is doing everything he can for our country.
Your Friend, I hope,
Valerie Wilson
He smiled at the end, because her signature was hand written in cursive and she'd been right. It was hard to read but he understood because his own handwriting was hard for others to read. Mack re-read the letter and then re-read it again. He had to smile at some of the words. He was just nineteen himself, and remembered girls he'd known in high school. They seemed silly now. They'd been more concerned with how they looked and how many boys they could attract than anything else. Valerie seemed like a nice girl who was trying to support the war effort in the only way she could. That night, Mack got paper, a pen, and an envelope and sat down to return Valerie's letter.
August 10, 1942
Dear Valerie,
I was very happy to get your letter because I don't have anybody to write to or to write to me. I'm writing back because you sound like a really nice girl and I'd like to hear from you again if you can spare the time.
I'm a little older than you are. I'm nineteen. I enlisted in the Marines right after Pearl Harbor because every man who can should fight to protect our country. You told me how big you are, so I'll tell you the same things about me.
I'm a lot bigger than you. I'm six feet one and I weight about a hundred and ninety pounds. I'm probably not that heavy now because it's hot here and I sweat a lot. If I write where I am, the censors will just mark it out so I won't do that. I'll just say it's really hot and there is lots of jungle everywhere.
We don't get much music where I am, but when I was in training, I liked Glen Miller too. I've never danced with a girl, but maybe someday I will. It's not that I think I wouldn't like dancing, I just never learned how.
Well, this is probably a shorter letter than you'd like to get, but it's about all I can write. The last thing I will say is that I'm fine. I'm pretty tired most of the time, but I haven't gotten injured except for cutting my finger once and that healed up pretty quick.
I hope you are well too, and I hope you write back to me.
Your friend,
Mack
Mack went through several battles over the next week. They'd surprised the Japanese Army and had set up a defensive perimeter around the airfield, but the Japanese Army was doing their best to kick them off the island. It was during the lull between two of these battles he was getting some rest and food other than C-rations. He'd just sat down with his mess kit when he heard "Mail Call". Mack ate his beef stew and listened intently. He'd about given up hope when he heard, "Private Mack Donaldson".
