It Was Our World War Too

Awaiting Assignment

I wrote letters home using an address of “Enroute to station.” Upon our arrival in Los Angeles we were bused to Camp Pendleton. My new address was Sergeant Thomas Joseph Kolesa, 849139, Casual Company, Headquarters Battalion, Training Command, Fleet Marine Force, San Diego Area, Camp Pendleton, Oceanside, California. That sounds as if they were trying to discourage us from using it to send our mail free. We were allowed to abbreviate and it came out much shorter: Sgt. T. Kolesa, Casual Co., Hdq. Bn., Tr. Comm., FMF, SDA, Camp Pendleton, Ca.

Oceanside is located between San Diego and Los Angeles. The camp is quite large, consisting of some 126,000 acres of hills. It was formerly known as the Santa Margarita Ranch.

The base is used to train Marines for combat duty as well as the site for many specialized schools.

What to do with us? That was the question. The Mark XX was not available yet and no one seemed to know when it would be. “Let’s send them to school.” That was the answer to a lot of questions the Marine Corps had. I think it made a lot of sense. I was quartered with a sergeant who had attended several radar classes with me at Camp Lejeune. We were friends then, but we became better friends at Pendleton as we learned to work together.

He was called the Old Man because he was in his thirties. Some of the other Marines were in their early twenties. However, most of us were still in our teens.

The Old Man and I had another advantage.

We were both sergeants among hundreds of privates and PFCs. In many classes we outranked our instructors. This allowed us certain privileges. No one really knew why we had our own tent and seemed special. They didn’t ask and we didn’t volunteer information.

Needless to say, we were both hard workers and did everything to the best of our ability. We had footlockers again.

It also came with a new address: Sgt. T. Kolesa, 3rd School Co., Field Signal Bn., Camp Pendleton, Oceanside, Ca.

My first class assignment was to learn to be a field-telephone specialist. We were taught how to set up command-post communications. This included learning how to operate a telephone switchboard, string wire, and service field telephones. We did some night training with the infantry.

I also spent considerable time in classrooms. There were times when I wondered if I was part of some kind of experiment.

Even though I never used any of this training while in the Marines or afterwards, I enjoyed it. It was interesting learning how to climb to the top of large trees and utility poles while scouting for wire routes.

Shortly after I completed this course, Anita became very sick and Dr. Hellrung was afraid she would lose our baby. She thought that if I was home it would go a long way toward helping her cope with her problems. Dr. Hellrung contacted the Red Cross.

She asked that I be granted a leave. The request was made to the Marine Corps, and because I was not assigned, it was approved.

This was during the middle of July 1944. I was given a two-week furlough. The train trip to and from Illinois took many precious days of this time, but we were able to spend more than a week together.

Anita was really sick, so we didn’t do any strenuous activity. We celebrated my 20th birthday at her parents’ house. I was no longer a teen. We spent most of the time visiting with her parents and my mom and dad.

It was very hot in July and Anita was halfway through her pregnancy. We were convinced that we needed to select a name for the baby.

As strange as it may seem, we spent very little time on a boy’s name, as we knew she would be a girl.

We had the name process narrowed down to Leslie Ann, a name from a story Anita had read, and Linda Louise.

A few other names were suggested by friends and family. They didn’t receive serious consideration. We stayed with her parents on Arcadia Street.

I do not recall having any long conversations with her dad about the war, but I do remember he was current on everything.

Anita did not save all my letters that were written from boot camp and from Camp Lejeune, but she saved all of them that were written from the time I was preparing to go overseas.

When I asked her about this, her explanation was that when she found out she was pregnant, she wanted to save them for our baby in case I didn’t come back.

We left the naming of our new baby to Anita. I headed back to California on July 28, taking the northern route into San Francisco and then down to Los Angeles. I remember that the trip was more scenic going through the Rockies than the southern route.

Cartoons still continued to grace the lower left-hand section of the envelopes, covering things that were topical, sometimes funny and sometimes sad. Inside I always asked about our baby and how Anita felt. There were also numerous comments about personal feelings. More schooling. I was taught to operate all kinds of wire-transmitting equipment as well as wireless types, including radios and signal flags. I learned Morse code and semaphore signaling. When that was over we learned to identify aircraft and ships by silhouettes. Anita spent most of the month of August in St. Louis visiting with her sister Nell.

In addition to having her sisters, her mom and dad, and my mom and dad to help her while I was away, we were very fortunate to have had her best friend Betty and Betty’s husband Al and Verna Mae to turn to if needed.

Al told the story many times about how much he enjoyed walking down the streets of Edwardsville, at picnics and other places, with two pregnant girls, one on each arm. Both Anita and Betty were due in mid-December. Al did this up until the time both of his “girls” delivered. His concern and attention was very much appreciated then and still is today. Thanks, Al.

After communications training was over and we still didn’t have the Mark XX radar units, I was sent to advanced infantry training at Camp Pendleton.

Training here was much more serious than at boot camp. We used live ammunition and grenades. We practiced landings from the side of troop ships as well as from landing craft.

This is the combat training that Platoon 366 went through while I was attending radar schools for the SCR-584, SCR-268, and SCR Mark XX.

I learned to maintain the Browning Automatic Rifle (BAR) and the new carbine. The BAR was assigned to certain members of the assault troops and was a very powerful handheld weapon.

The one I really liked was the carbine. It was lightweight and felt very comfortable to carry. I was told that as a sergeant who was going overseas as a specialist, I would be issued one.

I had so many instructors during my stay at Camp Pendleton that I find it impossible to remember their names.

This is not to say they didn’t make an impression. All I can remember about one is that he taught me a rule that followed me all through the Marine Corps.

This combat veteran, an old-timer with several hash marks, taught me the “one more” principle of survival.

“Always look for one more,” he pounded into us, meaning if you think all of the enemy are dead, don’t be fooled; there is always one more alive.

If you think they are out of ammunition, remember that he saved one for you and one for him. All the bombs have been dropped? No way. There is one more aircraft.

Think you have your weapon as clean as it can be? Not quite. There is one more corner to check.