CHRIS S. HINZO
My hometown was Bakersfield, California. I joined the U.S. Marines in October 1942 when I was 17 years old – so young that my mother had to sign a waver allowing me to enlist!
Why did I join the Marine Corps?  Well, the Army was out of the question because I did not want to do a lot of creeping and crawling.  The Navy was out too because I did not want to get seasick.  And the Air Corps was out because I did not want to get airsick.  On the positive side, I also wanted to be first to go in, so I chose the USMC.  Little did I realize I would soon do more than my share of creeping and crawling and that I would spend four months getting seasick!   Obviously, when I signed up I had absolutely no idea what dangers were ahead, but I was motivated and patriotic and I wanted to team up with the Marine Corps and the elite reputation they had.
San Diego was where I went for boot camp and infantry training, and I became part of the 22nd Replacement Battalion sent to New Zealand via New Caledonia and Norfolk Island.  In New Zealand for about four months, I trained on the 75mm pack howitzer and was assigned to A Battery, 1st Battalion, 10th Marines, in the 2nd Marine Division getting ready for the amphibious assault on Tarawa Atoll.   My job was to help with the shells and protect the gun. While waiting to ship out for the next battle, some of my buddies and I tried to make the most of our off-duty hours.  We all had fun when we could – after all, we were guaranteed combat in about three months!  “Have fun, tomorrow you might die” were famous words then!
We left New Zealand in early November 1943 on the attack transport USS Heywood (APA-6) bound for Tarawa.  I don’t have too much to say about the life of a swabbie.  They sure fed us a lot of beans and … well, that sure kept us moving!   I was out on deck whenever I could to breathe fresh air and to watch the waves, sunsets and sunrises – beautiful sights!
After a week or so at sea, the big maps came out and assault briefings began. This was the first time we heard the code names Operation Galvanic and Helen in reference, respectively, to the upcoming campaign and to Betio, the small westernmost islet in the chain of islets forming Tarawa Atoll where our landings would take place.  We were told this was to be our first landing since Guadalcanal. Fine for them to say that!  For many of us, me included, this was going to our first landing ever during actual combat conditions! At a Thanksgiving dinner on 19 November, the Navy fed us well, but somehow it felt like it was our last meal on earth.
In the early morning darkness of D-Day, 20 November 1943, much of my time before embarking was spent having a good big breakfast; getting my gear together and making sure everything worked properly; going over instructions about what we were to do; and standing out on deck with my buddies watching our Navy shelling targets on shore.  Wow!  That bombardment was a spectacular sight!  We were anchored quite a distance out from the entrance to the lagoon. My unit would be in the 3rd wave; our artillery unit was backup for the infantrymen.  I was assigned to Gun No. 2 for the beach landing.
In a way, we were happy to engage the enemy.  Our planes and Navy ships had been throwing shells and the flyboys so many bombs that we thought there wouldn’t be any enemy left.  Over the side and down the cargo nets, we got into our LCVP Higgins boats and went to join the others circling in the departure area to wait for our turn to run in to the beach.  And then I discovered the nightmare of war!
Intense fire came from many enemy shore positions.  The tides were too low to permit most landing craft to get to shore.  Coral reefs obstructed passage for landing craft.  I remember an infantry buddy, John Gonzales, telling me how those hazards forced many of his guys to wade ashore from some 500 to 600 yards off shore, depending on where the landing craft were stopped by the coral reefs.  In many instances, infantry would be wading in water up to their necks and suddenly find themselves going under because they might stumble into unseen shell holes.  If, however, they were lucky, they might be able to swim toward shore.  At the same time, enemy fire was so heavy that the water rippled just like it does when you throw a handful of pebbles into it.  Just try to do that in temperatures well over 100° while hoping not to drown and not to be shot and killed while wearing full packs and carrying your rifle over your head … it was rough!  In some ways, I am glad I was still in my LCVP Higgins, but that was no picnic either!
Shore fire was so intense we couldn’t even get to shore on the D-Day.  Then night came, as did some Japanese planes.  In our LCVP, we were supposed to stay still in the water, with the engine turned off because the turning propeller caused the phosphorus in the water to glow.  The visual effect of having the prop churn up the water was like turning on a light, and that just announced our location to the enemy.  On one occasion our coxswain got scared and started the motor, and a Japanese plane dropped a bomb real close to us.  The gunny told the coxswain to cut the engine, and, yes, no more bombs was the result!
We floated all night and until about 1300 the next day when an LCVP Higgins boat full of troops came by, and their leader yelled, “Where’s the 8th Infantry?”  We yelled back, “We’re the 10th Infantry – go ahead!”  Off they went, and we followed.  We made it to the end of the pier and waited for an amtrac so we could transfer our guns onto it.  As we were waiting, I looked toward the shore-end of the pier and could see bodies stacked eight feet high.
Off to one side was an enemy ship (the Niminoa) that had been disabled by the Japanese.  On it, some Japanese Marines were shooting at us on the dock.  As I was looking over the side of the of our Higgins boat, a bullet came through the boat, just missing my jaw by 3 inches … but it hit the gunny who became our first casualty. I don’t know why I wasn’t even wounded.  All around me people were being killed!
We flagged down a passing amtrac and managed to transfer our gun.  After we landed, we unloaded our gun with the six of us in the crosshairs of heavy enemy fire.  Where we came ashore had only about eight to 10 feet of beach separating the water from the front lines!   Dead bodies were floating all along the surf line, and the stench was just awful – keep in mind the heat was over 100°!  Those of us who had waded in and reached the beach alive had to walk through that bloody and oily water trying to avoid stepping on Marines while the enemy kept shooting at us!
Here it was, D+1 about 1330 and we were at the front line of battle on a beach perhaps 10 feet wide. As an artillery unit, our job was to support the infantry wherever needed.  But because the infantry right in front of us in this terribly consolidated area could not advance, we too could not advance!  Wow!  And a bunched up group of Marines was an easy target for snipers.
All of us felt just like sitting ducks waiting to be picked off!   Six of us managed to set up our gun in the congested chaos on the narrow beach area, but we could not begin firing for fear of hitting our own guys ahead. After a long wait, our infantry began to move slowly and cautiously ahead perhaps some 50 feet ahead, but they were soon pinned down by withering fire. Our sergeant ordered our unit to move up, too, and while doing that, men on both sides of me perished.  Miraculously, I still was untouched.
At one point, I stood up and no one shot at me (I think).  Just to our left, Navy corpsmen were taking care of one of the island’s Korean laborers, so I went over to see what was happening.  Two other buddies were standing next to me, also looking.  As a Japanese machine gun started to fire from about 50 yards away, I happened to look down and saw a bottle of sake.  As I reached down to pick it up, the fellows standing next to me were shot.  I will add here that, no, I never picked up that bottle!
Twenty-four hours later, most Marines going to the Black Beach side of Betio succeeded in pushing through to that side.  We were very close to the landing strip when the action stopped.   I had been on Betio for about 5 days and had not been wounded.  That is so amazing to think about.  In so many cases, survival was just a matter of luck.  I remember sharing a can of tomatoes with two others for our Thanksgiving dinner!  What a treat!
After Tarawa, I went to Camp Tarawa on the Big Island of Hawaii.  I was there for about six months, and we had had some good times there.  We had lots of artillery training, and I also worked there as the company barber.  At Kamuela, we would go to dances, and I remember a girl there who liked to dance the jitterbug with me.   People there called me “The Jitterbug Kid.” After awhile they would pay me $5 not to enter the jitterbug competitions!  I had several liberties to Hilo, and I remember a couple of times a girl whose father would drive her over from Hilo so she could dance with me!
After Camp Tarawa, I was also in the action at Saipan and Tinian.  When my outfit went on to Okinawa, I had to stay behind because I was then the property sergeant who had to look after the gear that the fellows didn’t take.  When those guys from my unit were at Okinawa and I had some time on my hands and had access to all sorts of parts, equipment and other materials, I made myself a wind-powered washing machine!  Really!  I was sure popular when they returned to Saipan from Okinawa!
More importantly, though, I had also built a small radio out of razor blades, a safety pin and some earphones.   On 02 September, I had been listening to Tokyo Rose when she announced the war was over!   That was how my unit knew!  And did we ever celebrate!   Between late September and early December 1945, I was with some of the first Marine units sent in to Japan for occupation duty, in the Nagasaki area on Kyushu. Shortly after that, I was sent home and arrived in San Diego on Christmas Eve 1945.
Medals I received for my war service include the Presidential Unit Citation (Tarawa); the Asiatic-Pacific medal; the World War II Victory medal; and a medal for being part of the occupation forces in Japan.  No, I did not get a Purple Heart!  In the three campaigns I was in – Tarawa, Saipan and Tinian – I was never wounded, but I was almost killed four different times!   For most of the war, I was an acting sergeant, and when I mustered out in January 1946 I held the permanent rank of corporal.
Looking back over more than 67 years, I felt when I enlisted that the Marines were the best branch of the armed services there was. I still do – once a Marine always a Marine!  I have always had that ‘can do’ outlook, and that attitude colors everything we do as Marines!  Despite old Tojo bragging that a million men couldn’t take Tarawa in a hundred years, well, we did it … we secured that island in 72 hours!  Even today, all these years later, I fly the Marine Corps flag and the American Flag from a flagpole in front of my house.
I fly these flags every day in memory of my fallen comrades out there in the Pacific.  God Bless Them All!  We must never forget them.
After an honorable discharge in January 1946, I returned home to Bakersfield and shortly thereafter began another career!  Ten months after my discharge from the Marine Corps, I discovered a place in California where I could make good money and get into some challenging work that has implications to the present day.
I was hired on at the China Lake Naval Ordnance Test Station, now known as the Naval Air Weapons Station China Lake.  Coincidentally, this facility was established in the same month that I went ashore at Tarawa!  Located about 110 miles northeast of Los Angeles in the northwest part of California’s Mojave Desert, this site has developed a superb reputation as a technology leader in a broad spectrum of weapon systems development programs.  Joining this organization was one of the best things I ever did.
My work at China Lake was the best place I can think of for giving me important and challenging problem-solving opportunities where my generally curious nature, interest in finding out how things worked and making new things work, my ‘will try’ and ‘can do’ attitude, and my interest in learning had wonderful chances to be developed.
Over a period of 30 years working at China Lake, I worked my way up from an entry-level position to that of GS-11 (10th step) and finished as a journeyman electronics mechanic, inspector and technician.  Not bad for a guy with only one year of high school!  With no prep time, I took the GED and graduated from Bakersfield High School and, in evening classes I earned an Associate in Science degree in electronics from Bakersfield College.  I have always liked learning, regardless of whether I was my own teacher or others were my teachers.  While at China Lake, I was also sent to Los Alamos, New Mexico and the Atomic Energy Commission.  And in the late 50s I built the radio for the Explorer II satellite.
I was called back into the Marines during part of the Korean War.  The Commander of Camp Pendleton even asked the Commandant of the Marine Corps that I be relieved of my duty because I was an inspector on a very critical project at the Atomic Energy Commission.  I remember being in the Commander’s office when that phone call was in process, when the Marine Commandant said, “Hinzo is a Marine and must serve his year, but he will be given a 6-month deferment.”   I was assigned to an infantry platoon with the rank of corporal.  I was required to wear my ribbons, which showed where I served during WWII.  The sergeant in this platoon, younger than I was, kept saying, “I have to get me some of those (ribbons).”  So, he volunteered for Korea, was sent over and was soon killed there.  That meant I took over the platoon and in very little time I was recognized for producing the best training platoon during the period I was there!  By the time I had left the Marines this second time, I was in charge of supply for Headquarters Company and had passed the test for Staff Sergeant!  I was now Staff Sergeant Hinzo, NCO in charge of 21GF-2.
I am particularly proud of my close involvement at China Lake with the air-to-air Sidewinder missile program from its early development and testing stages in 1954 through until I retired from the civil service in 1976.   This program continues to this day and is expected to continue to 2055, over 100 years after I began work in its early development!
I have always been proud to serve this country in the Marine Corps and in civilian ways in weapons development programs for our military.  To me, it has always been important to try and persevere in whatever I have done because somewhere a long time ago I learned that approaching life with that outlook has often led to an empowering “Yes! I did it!” sense of accomplishment.  I know the U. S. Marine Corps was one of the places in my life that helped me develop that outlook.
Three examples in my life where imagination, perseverance and willingness to try and solve problems are:
1) At one time at China Lake, I built an intercom enabling communications between two departments.  This had not been done there before.  It worked so well that some years later I arranged to have some fun with the intercom idea.  I built myself another one and used it here at home.  I still use it at Halloween!  I set up a speaker and a microphone enabling me to hear the kids coming and, if I want to, I ‘speak’ to them!  They sure seem convinced that the skeleton I hid the equipment in is alive!   No harm is done.  All of us have a little fun, proving that a little covert surveillance can be very entertaining!	At one time at China Lake, I built an intercom enabling communications between two departments.  This had not been done there before.  It worked so well that some years later I arranged to have some fun with the intercom idea.  I built myself another one and used it here at home.  I still use it at Halloween!  I set up a speaker and a microphone enabling me to hear the kids coming and, if I want to, I ‘speak’ to them!  They sure seem convinced that the skeleton I hid the equipment in is alive!   No harm is done.  All of us have a little fun, proving that a little covert surveillance can be very entertaining!
2) In 1955 I used a 1N34 diode, some wire and earphones to make a crystal radio, which I built into my hardhat.  I think I was the only one walking around then with his own hands-free radio, and this was years before the Walkman hit the hi-tech markets!	In 1955 I used a 1N34 diode, some wire and earphones to make a crystal radio, which I built into my hardhat.  I think I was the only one walking around then with his own hands-free radio, and this was years before the Walkman hit the hi-tech markets!
3) Can I still jitterbug?  Yes, I can do it!  Lots of the girls here still ask me to dance with them!  They’re always asking me to dance, just like the girls back at Camp Tarawa!	Can I still jitterbug?  Yes, I can do it!  Lots of the girls here still ask me to dance with them!  They’re always asking me to dance, just like the girls back at Camp Tarawa!
You must know that the Marine Corps makes three commitments to our recruits and to our country:  to make Marines, to win our nation’s battles and to develop quality citizens.  It sure helps people to recognize and value the role of discipline in developing character, as a person and as a Marine.  Those character-building values also carry over into civilian life, helping to shape decent and productive citizens.  I have never been afraid to try my best, to do my best, and that ‘can do’ attitude has given me a rich and rewarding life.
Chris, you exemplify the best traits of an outstanding Marine.  Your family, community and nation are so proud and thankful you are the there for us.  We salute you and your commitments to our country.  We will remember you, your fallen friends and your buddies who remain close to you.
SEMPER FI,  CHRIS!
and
Semper Fi to your Marine buddies Frank Kern, Bob George,
Dave Estes, Charlie Fenolio, Ray Forbus and Ed O’Brien !
Received 07 February 2011
Return to ROSTER