With Hawaii's Aja Boys at Camp Shelby Mississippi

              lieutenant. Ten minutes later they
may be moving across a field toward an imaginary enemy position.
They alternately wriggle forward
on their bellies, run doubled-over
in swift bursts toward the next
tree or shrub, and hurl themselves
down on the ground—pack, rifle
and all—like a football player
diving for the ball.
tt     tt     tt
An hour later they may be lying
under the trees, hidden from view,
as if they had nothing to do but
loaf     and     debate     the     question
whether the girls at home are being
true—a much debated point, we understand.   But nearby are sentries.
Someone is responsible for the
safety of the squad.   This is not
play.   There  is  battle  ahead  for
these boys from Kona, Kaimuki
and Lahaina, and from Seattle
and Portland, Ore.
And so the day goes, with bursts
of activity interspersed with what
might be called vigilant relaxation.
After 16 or 17 hours of it in the
field, at 90 to 105 or 110 in the
shade, a day's work has really been
done.
"Plenty tough"—sure.
Regimental officers say that one
of the outstanding characteristics
of these soldiers is their willingness
to learn, their ability to learn fast,
and their spirit. You get that from
the second lieutenants on up through
the battalion commanders to Lt.
Col. V. R. Miller, the executive
officer, and Col. C. W. Pence.
CHAPTER VIII
Letters from Home
CAMP SHELBY, Miss., Aug. 13.—
Letters from their homes in Hawaii
mean more than anything else to
the islanders who are in combat
training here as troops with the
442nd combat team.
That is the opinion of Private
First Class Tadashi Morimoto, who
formerly was in the territorial department of public welfare under
John Wilson and whose wife is living at Lihue, Kauai.
Tadashi, who graduated in 1941
from the New York School of
Social Work, Columbia university, speaks with more maturity
than most of the boys. He is 31
years old, as compared with an
average age in the early 20's among
the men here. He is personnel
classification specialist with the
442nd.
"My message to folks back
home is this: write to the boys
here. Remember their birthdays
and the special events in their
lives. It really touches the boys
when they get cakes on their
birthdays.
"Letters are the best thing the
people back home can do for their
boys here. If one of the boys misses
getting a letter from home, he
says, T lose fight.' "
tt tt tt
A lot of mail does come in here
for the soldiers, but it can never be
too much, to. judge by their eagerness for word from the islands.
Tadashi urges friends as well as
parents to write, and write often.
We asked Tadashi whether the
men think much about the implications of their service in the
United States army—what their
record for better or for worse
means with regard to the futuue of
all Americans of Japanese ancestry
and aliens in Hawaii and on the
mainland, and what their battle record will mean in terms of psychological warfare against the Axis.
That's a mouth filling sort of a
question that you can't casually
ask a soldier on contact in the
field. He isn't going into a
lengthy discussion of his ideals—
and as a man who is making a
practical demonstration of his
faith and has volunteered to
prove it in battle, he doesn't have
to say anything.
[14]