by TSgt. David P. Masko
Air Force News Service
HICKAM AFB, Hawaii -- During May of 1945 the war in Europe was over, and in the Pacific the Japanese were in retreat. In the United States and other parts of the world, life went on as usual as though there was no war. But in China and Burma, men were fighting and dying.
The China-Burma-India theater was the worst place to be in 1945, said veterans celebrating the 50th anniversary of the end of World War II. For example, to make airlift possible in the CBI, the Allies had to carve bases with concrete air strips out of the region's dense jungles.
Native Indians also helped Army Air Forces engineers to design and build the rocky flightlines. Both AAF and other workers labored in 140-degree heat to install steel-mesh taxiways, while thousands of hired coolies had to break rocks into little pieces to cover the air base aprons. Many times, say veterans, the progress of these new airfields was only measured in yards, but paid for in blood.
A group of 19 CBI veterans were at Hickam May 22-24 to attend memorial services at the USS Arizona Memorial in Pearl Harbor, and the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific in Honolulu. The veterans also plan to attend other anniversary celebrations when they return to the CBI theater during the last week in May.
At both ceremonies in Hawaii, Lt. Gen. John Fairfield, Pacific Air Forces vice commander, praised the visitors as "gallant veterans of one of the most perilous campaigns of the war."
Fairfield also challenged all Air Force people -- on the holy ground where nearly 13,000 World War II dead from the Pacific are buried -- to live up to their legacy.
"We must honor their sacrifice by carrying their torch of resolve...today we pledge to continue our vigilance."
One of the CBI veterans who endured the war's harsh realities, and a segregated military, is Albert Pierce.
"It was hell... no relief from the heat, the snakes or the Japanese. But we stuck together, black and white. Color means nothing in wartime," said Pierce, an enlisted supply loadmaster with the 1345th Air Transport Command in Dacca, India.
During CBI operations from 1943-45, Pierce and 300 other black airmen were charged with moving supplies and pumping gas for B-24s stripped for transport, C-54s, C-47s and C-46s.
Asked about his return to the CBI, Pierce matter-of-factly says, "I feel special today because I'm representing the ones who can't be here. Those who served with me in that jungle."
What also makes Pierce special are ties to the historical Air Force organization -- the Tuskegee Airmen. In 1943, six months prior to his high school graduation, Pierce volunteered for Army Air Forces flight training. He said he was slated for a Tuskegee commission, but had a bad heart.
Although not an official Tuskegee graduate, Pierce continues to refer to the 332nd Fighter Group as his first unit, and Col. Benjamin O. Davis as his "commander." As the case with all WWII veterans, he speaks proudly of what he and his friends did in the war.
However, the day-to-day scene that Pierce and other CBI veterans paint of the war is not a time of harmony, but one of constant chaos. The veterans tell stories of doctors performing emergency surgery -- amputating limbs without hesitation -- or the blinding smoke from fires caused by almost non-stop bombing.
In all this confusion, somehow they worked, formed friendships and lived.
Today, they stand again in the long shadow of history. Some say the 50th anniversary celebrations help them and their children remember what they did and who they were. Others say they want healing from the pain of war.
At the Arizona Memorial, for example, Phil Piazza said it's difficult to forgive such an act as the Arizona where many of the ship's 1,177 crewmembers lost their lives in the Pearl Harbor sneak attack. Piazza, a soldier who served and was wounded while serving in the CBI with "Merrill's Marauders," said, "I know it's horrible not to forgive, but I just can't."
Bishop James Mathews -- the spiritual leader for Piazza and other CBI veterans on the anniversary trip -- said he understands the feelings of those who've "seen the death that comes from war."
"I'm angry too," said Mathews. "I can only tell them to forgive, but don't forget."
During World War II, 360,845 Americans gave their lives in service to their country.