By Marjon Rostami
One day Cruz Rodriguez was picking corn and tomatoes on a farm outside of Chicago; the next day, the undocumented Mexican immigrant was preparing to go to war.
"They [the U.S. Army] didn't care if you were legal or not," Rodriguez said during his interview. "They just needed soldiers. They took Mexicans off the field and they [were sent] ... to war."
By Cheryl Smith Kemp
Joseph Ramirez turned the Army down when officers tried to keep him on at the end of 1945, asking him to serve six more months in World War II, at the promised rank of Sergeant.
Ramirez wanted to go home.
“I was certain I would be able to get a job in the Engineering Department,” he said, referring to Armor Institute of Technology, now Illinois Institute of Technology, from where he’d graduated before the war.
In many ways, the postwar years of Felipe L. Cantú represent a quintessential profile of a World War II veteran, quietly resuming his life, but with a modest hesitancy to discuss combat experiences or express his feelings. In many other ways, however, Cantú’s story is atypical: a journalist who wrote vividly of the war and an artist whose works include scenes from the front lines.
Willie Murillo was the third of five brothers who served in World War II.
Older brother David joined the Air Force; Gonzalo joined the Army; Mike and Mario, the two younger brothers, served in the Navy and Merchant Marines, respectively.
Before the brothers left for service, their father took them aside and said, “I hope you never find yourselves on the front line; but if you do, always remember one thing: The enemy fires the shots, God is the one who separates them.
By Cheryl Smith Kemp
"I have a letter from my Secretary of War that's saying that I'm a hero," said World War II veteran Frank Segura of an Oct. 31, 1945, statement about him by then-Secretary of War Robert P. Patterson.
"I think my buddies that didn't come back are my heroes," Segura added, noting that he doesn't consider himself special.
One Valentine's Day, Mike Vasquez knocked on the door to the Cooremans' house with three boxes of chocolates for the daughters still living at home. Fourteen-year-old Wilhelmina, the youngest, answered the door. She was so shocked to discover the biggest box was for her she slammed the door and left Mike outside until her mother reminded her of her manners. Though Wilhelmina was too young for a relationship, the two kept in contact.
Soon after his 18th birthday, Luis A. Calderon was drafted into the Army. He fought with the 75th Infantry Division for 94 consecutive days ending on April 13, 1945. That relatively short period of time in his life would have lasting effects on him and his family.
During the Battle of the Bulge, the temperature was 10 below zero, causing Calderon to develop frostbite. The medics merely sprayed his feet and sent him back to fighting.
By Cheryl Smith Kemp
Ninety-year-old Rafael Torres doesn’t have the mind he had back when he was growing up in El Paso, Texas, nor when he began penning his memories of World War II, but he still seems to remember quite clearly the torture of the head injury that eventually brought him home from the war.
Torres recalls going down Mount Rotondo near San Pietro, Italy, with the rest of his platoon on Dec. 15, 1943. Being assigned to rear guard duty, no one was behind him.
By Jenny Achilles
Fighting alongside his fellow Puerto Ricans in the 65th Infantry Regiment during World War II, Joaquin Amorós Santiago left a heritage that touches the lives of all children and grandchildren of those of the “Greatest Generation.”
Amorós fought in WWII in the 65th Infantry from Puerto Rico. He says he fought for what he believed in and thanked the Lord when he returned home safely.
By Suzanne Hanshaw
It was the afternoon of April 30, 1945, on the Philippine island of Luzon. The first scout of the attacking squad had been shot and Pedro Perez volunteered to rescue him in a hail of machine-gun fire. Even after Perez was wounded in both legs, he crawled through the brush, sparing both their lives.
It would be a miserable 7 hours before he received medical attention.
“It was about 3 o’clock in the afternoon … and I bled from there until after 10 at night,” Perez said.
