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Pvt. GOGO D-2-26
MONKEY BUSINESS
April 2007
Private "GOGO" joined D-2-26 after the battle of Iwo Jima. As we returned to Hawaii aboard ship, we made a stop in the Marshall Islands to refuel. One evening after chow, a group of us were up on deck relaxing and shooting the bull, as well as counting our blessings as survivors and thinking of those we had left behind on that ugly little island.
A Navy destroyer pulled up along our port side as we were taking on the fuel we needed to make it back to Pearl Harbor and home to the Big Island. Immediately, sailors and Marines commenced the usual "Where you from?" and "Where're you headed?" Soon the destroyer crew, who had been in the Philippines, learned we were Iwo Jima survivors and began the "Got any souvenirs?" chant. Marines went below to gather items they had captured on Iwo and came back on deck to barter with the sailors, or should I say, sell to the highest bidder.We watched with interest as other Marines used their bargaining skills against those of the sailors. It was a chance to make a buck or two or acquire an item that you'd always wanted to have. During this exchange, a sailor appeared at the railing with a monkey on his shoulder and became involved in the trading. He had the monkey on a rawhide leash and allowed him to cross over to our ship so we could get a better look at it. The sailor was bent on trading his monkey for a Japanese flag. I had a couple I'd picked up during the operation, the sailor eyeballed one, asked a few questions and the deal was struck. I had me a monkey and the sailor had him a Jap flag. I have no idea how we came up with the name, "GOGO."
The next morning over the ship's loud speaker and the word passed around like wildfire. One of my buddies, Bud Joyce, found a hiding place in #4 hold that had some vehicles stored in it. It was cool and dark except for a few lights, perfect for hiding the monkey. Bud and I put our heads together and decided on a ruse. We took some rags, a piece of metal, wrapped the metal inside and went to the fantail. We told the sailor on watch that we had killed the monkey and would toss it overboard.
The sailor contacted the bridge with our story and yelled "Okay!" Bud and I both hung our heads as the "monkey's body" fell into the Pacific. Others in our unit (what was left of it) consoled us on losing our companion, and from then on the subject was forgotten. We
made daily trips into the hold with food and water for our friend. The next stop was Pearl Harbor, where we learned that President Roosevelt had passed away. We were given shore leave at a recreational beach where many of the guys got so drunk they had to be hauled aboard our ship in a cargo net.
A few days later we arrived at Hilo ready to disembark. I had fashioned a device to smuggle GOGO ashore. It was a large corpsman's kit with air holes cut in it so he could breathe. He kept sticking his paws out of the air holes as we prepared to leave ship. Once ashore, we boarded trucks for the trip back up the volcano to Camp Tarawa. As we got higher and higher, it became quite a bit cooler. Our friend was not accustomed to the cooler temperatures, so I asked a chaplain who was riding in our truck cab if he would hold him until we arrived in camp. The chaplain opened his field jacket and GOGO climbed inside to seek warmth.
After the trip to our old area, we arrived and I thanked the chaplain for his courtesy and assistance.We settled into the old tents where we had lived before heading off to Iwo Jima and introduced the monkey to his new home. I tied his leash to the tent pole and he quickly climbed to the top and sat on the cross beam that held the lone light bulb. He soon learned that the bulb gave off warmth, so he would haul it up by its wire and cradle it in his arms until it got too hot and then he would let it drop, breaking the bulb and leaving us without light. I can't recall the number of light bulbs I had to get from the police sergeant. He got tired of me asking for them as well.
GOGO provided us with all sorts of entertainment as we watched him perform his antics. We enjoyed interacting with him. One thing that often got me, though, was the other Marines who had a passion for teasing him. But he could really bite, which earned him their respect. I took him on a field exercise one day with him perched atop my pack. But our First Sergeant had other ideas and told me not to take him again, so I would leave him with someone on "light duty" to be his caretaker for the day.
Directly behind our tent was one occupied by some NCO's. They had been given the OK to cook in their tents while the rest of us ate at the mess hall (a real mess!). Or, we could go over the fence to the Parker Ranch House and order a steak. One day, we had the canvas sides rolled up to allow the breeze to cool our tents. GOGO was checking out the area. He soon discovered that the NCO's behind us were preparing bacon and eggs, so he snatched an egg, tucked it under his arm and ran with it just as one would with a football. Sgt. Potter was in hot pursuit, cussing up a storm and yelling about what he would do to that damned monkey when he caught him. GOGO leaped up onto our tent and scrambled to the top peak where he sat in leisure, ignoring Potter raging below him. He broke the egg and sucked out the contents with great satisfaction. Potter was cussing him all the time as well as yelling at me to "Control that (#@%) monkey or I'll kill it!" We all had a great laugh over it but kept a close leash on GOGO after that.
One of our guys was a "card shark" gambler and people came from all over to play poker against him. There used to be several hundred dollars on the blanket at once. An MP who came from outside our area was a regular player. One night, after winning a good deal of money, he asked, "How much for the monkey?" Well, it had been fun, I had enjoyed GOGO's company and capers, but the fun had worn off, so I sold him at a good profit. After the Japanese had surrendered and we were headed for occupation duty, I spotted GOGO and his new owner as the MP's motorcycle headed down the road leading our convoy to Hilo. And so ended the story and a fond memory of my pal, GOGO, the monkey.
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GOGO By: Maj. Robert F. Maiden D-2-26, USMC (Ret.)
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Overheard at a 5th Division Association Convention and recorded. This one is from Bert Clayton editor of the 5th Marine Division Magazine
CALLING ALL CARS
or
(The Two Musketeers and sometimes Three.)
Mike: One night Ted and I went on Liberty to Coronado where we did the usual, a few drinks and dancing at the hotel Coronado. Apparently we got bored, so we took the ferry back to San Diego. We had talked about ice-skating.
Walking toward Broadway we passed a police precinct station. There in front sat a police car with the engine running and no one in it. Seems like we just looked at each other knowingly, jumped in and took off. I don’t remember who drove.
Ted: I drove first, and when I asked Mike where we should go, he suggested the Glacier Gardens the ice skating rink. I told him to take the wheel because I didn’t know the way.
Mike: We didn’t have long to wait before we heard a report on the police radio that a patrol car had been stolen. We headed out east of town to the skating rink where we quickly abandoned the car. As I recall we barely got our skates on before the place was crawling with cops. Nothing ever came of the event, however. Any time Ted and I went on liberty we had a lively time to say the least. Like most guys we didn’t have much money so we “improvised”.
Ted: Like Mike says, all we had to do was look at each other and we knew what the other one was thinking. Anytime we went on liberty, a good time was had by all!
Mike: I also recall that on some of our night field problems at Pendleton we entertained ourselves by removing sections of telephone line just for the hell of it.
Ted: Yeah, we’d actually hack away sections of their lines and throw the ends in different directions to give them a challenge. (It probably gave the wire guys some good practice, because you knew the enemy would do it every chance he got.)
Ted again: Clayt, your story about you and Harry and the tattoo incident in Honolulu, then having your picture taken with the hula girls reminds me of a time on liberty in Hilo when Mike, Joe and I walked into a photo studio and the three of us stripped down to our skivvies. The poor little girl in charge didn’t know what to think until we each grabbed hula skirts, wrapped them around our middles and told her we wanted our pictures taken. They were small individual snaps, but I still have one of each in my album.
Mike: Ted, Joe and I went on liberty in Hilo one time. We were never flush with money, but we would sometimes treat ourselves to a steak dinner at the old Paramount Grill. The meal ran about 95 cents as I recall. After eating, we’d set about getting stupid on beer or whatever. Sometimes we did a good job of it.
Ted: Yeah, you were sending a pay allotment to your mother and I was sending one back to my wife and son. So payday rolls around, we sometimes left the paymaster without a dime in our dungarees. As a result, we had to find inexpensive forms of entertainment. This sometimes took the form of “borrowing” vehicles from other branches of the service, it was sort of a challenge!
Mike: Late one night we happened on to an Army Command Car. We decided this would provide us with first class transportation back to Camp Tarawa 40-50 miles away.
Ted: Since this was an Army Command Car, we tucked our field scarves in our shirts like the dogfaces did and removed the USMC emblems from our “fore and aft” covers so they wouldn’t give us away. Off we drove. Mike was at the wheel, I was ridding “shotgun” watching out for any Military Police vehicles.
Mike: We headed up Saddle back Road (Saddle Road) through the pass. About ten miles out of Hilo we ran into one of those standard guard shacks. I don’t think they had missed their vehicle yet but I wasn’t taking any chances. I remember slamming on the brakes and hitting reverse while the sentry up ahead was screaming “HALT”! I finally got us turned around and headed back down the mountain at full speed with a few rounds of rifle fire passing over our heads. Joe was busy trying to find the MPs frequency to see if we were being followed. Apparently not, as we made it safely back into town and we parked the vehicle about a block from where we found it. We were pretty sober by that time.
Ted: I recall we stayed overnight at the Marine hostel and returned to Camp Tarawa via the regular liberty truck the next day.
One of our favorite pastimes was watching for Navy jeeps. We would check out the movie theatre, which was a good spot to find one. We would wait until they parked their vehicle and went into the theatre. Then we would check with the cashier to see how long the feature film
ran. That gave us an idea as to when we had to have the unit returned. We’d drop it off a block or two from where we found it. (They must have loved to stick it to Navy officers!).
Mike: These stories may make us sound like professional car thieves. Some of the stunts we used to pull on liberty were wilder by comparison but I don’t think Ted or I would readily admit to them. (Laughter).
Calling all Cars
By: Bert Clayton
5th Marine Division
Editor Spearhead magazine
Date unknown
Editors note: I have become aquainted with Mike and after looking at a picture of him noticed he received the Good Conduct Medal!
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I meet John Murdock at the Memorial on a wet cold rainy day. I really didn’t get a chance to talk to him all I knew was that he was one of the Marines to arrive with the 2nd Division in December 1943 at Camp Tarawa. So I emailed Barbara O’Neil in Cape Cod and asked her to ask john some question and email them back. John doesn’t own a computer. So here are his answers to my questions.
1. When the 2nd Division arrived at Camp Tarawa, all the rations, tents and cots were piled on the site. The kitchen building was the first to be built and was, at that time, under construction. He explains that the reason for the confusion was that the 2nd Division was scheduled to stay on Tarawa and garrison the whole atoll. It was expected that they would be on Tarawa for a month. Instead, the losses were so great, they were ordered off the island after only four days! It was planned to be an easy battle. For that reason, all the plans for Parker Ranch were one month behind them!
2. John reports that they did come via the Saddle Road (between Mona Loa and Mauna Kai). His impression: after Tarawa, the island of Hawaii was beautiful country. The people were wonderful. They were friendly, warm and helpful.
3. It took one month to get the camp operational--water, power, etc.
4. As for the pin-stripe suit: the only clothes the Marines had were the clothes on their backs. All their gear was in New Zealand, scheduled for shipment within the month. Due to the bloodbath onTarawa, they preceded their clothes to the island by almost one month.
The Red Cross in Hilo was contacted as it was reported that they had emergency clothing on hand for disasters. All clothing, of course, was civilian clothes. The Red Cross provided their clothing. John's was the pin-striped suit which he reports made him look pretty good!!!! They became known (due to their second-hand clothing) as the "raggedy-ass Marines!"
5. As for human interest stories, I think that the story of the Holualoa Church is a great one. I did much research to find that church. John thought that he was going to stop some "old guy" on the street in Kona and ask him about the church. We had great arguments over this plan. I tried to tell him that much had happened in 65 years on the island. Moreover, I said many of the people his age were most likely dead or certainly not walking on the streets of Kona.
So, I just went ahead and sent e-mails to all possible sources. The Kona Historical Society narrowed down the church as the only church which had been rebuilt during that time. Moreover, they informed me that there was a plaque to the 2nd Division on the church.
Another story which John likes to tell is the one PFC who, while in American Samoa, fell in love w/a Samoan woman. Wanted to get married. John would not give him permission. The military discouraged such marriages as most of them did not work. The troops would leave, marriage would dissolve, government would incur a dependent (or more!). When they were in New Zealand, same PFC fell in love w/a Maori woman. Again, wanted to get married. Denied.
On Hawaii, the PFC fell in love with a Hawaiian girl from Hilo, came to John, reported that priest in Hilo refused to marry them. John went to Hilo, spoke to priest. John pleaded for priest's permission. Said that both parties were Catholics, pleaded that priest marry them in Church and get them started in the right way. If priest refused, John pleaded that they were likely to marry anyway. PFC was determined. The Priest granted permission. The marriage ceremony scheduled in Hilo. The guests totaled 13. Then bride's mother REFUSED! Would not allow the marriage to take place unless another guest was added.
John then took to the streets. He stopped several troops. Pleaded for them to come to the wedding. Finally he stopped one sailor and asked "Want a free meal? Come to the wedding! Sailor thought free meal was a good idea and agreed. The wedding took place.
The PFC and his bride lived in the states and visited John in later years. The bride's mother was with them. She had also come to live in the states. John asked the bride's mother how she like living in the Northeast. She replied: I like everything but the shoes!!!!! My feet
are killing me!!!!!!!!
A hui hou,
Barbara O’Neil Special note from Barbara: Captain John Murdock passed away July 29, 2009
For: John Murdock
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This Sea Story was taken from Leonard Skinners historical website "One Mans View".
I was assigned to Headquarters and Service Company, 8th Regiment. Since leaving New Zealand the division had fought the Battle of Tarawa, suffering extremely heavy casualties. Thank goodness I had missed that or this book might not have been written. The camp, called Camp Tarawa, was located high in a saddle between the Kohala Mountains and snow-capped Mauna Kea.
Because of the elevation it was cold. Our source of water was from melted snow and it was ice cold. As there was no hot water, showers were brief and infrequent. We were outside the small town of Kamuela on land owned by the huge Parker Cattle Ranch. While we were given liberty, there was really no place to go. I would be there about three months and I think I went on liberty twice.
There were two reasons for picking this location. One was that it was believed after all the combat the division had been in, it might be best if it was separated from more civilized folks, especially as many residents of Hawaii were of Japanese ancestry. Secondly, this was supposed to be a healthy area, especially for all the Solomon veterans who still kept having recurring attacks of malaria.
The first few days at Camp Tarawa I was kept busy handling supplies. Then our group of new arrivals was asked for a volunteer. This was always met with great skepticism, but as I was bored with moving boxes, I stepped forward. I was met by the man I was to replace and he assured me this was a good deal, which I found out to be very true. I was supposed to operate a sterilizing unit, which was a large four-wheeled trailer that could be pulled behind a truck. A small gasoline engine drove the pump and other mechanism. A diesel-fired burner turned water into steam which could be used for several purposes, but primarily to sterilize hospital bedding or medical equipment.
My tutor fired up the unit and gave me very basic instructions on how to operate it. He then demonstrated one of its uses. A shower unit was nearby and he ran a hose to it and showed me how to run a steady stream of hot water. He then invited me to have a hot shower. I did so and it felt wonderful. He then asked me to run it for him while he did the same. When he finished his shower he told me to shut it down and from now on I would be on my own. I had been holding the temperature at 105 degrees, but as the gauge went much higher I was curious how hot I could make it. I spun the wheel that controlled it and a scream came from the bathhouse. Although the entry door was visible, some poor Marine had entered without my seeing him. At least he had a story to tell his buddies that night as they shivered under their cold showers.
Running the sterilizing unit was a good deal. All I had to do was standby in case it was needed, and many days I did nothing at all. On those occasions when I was working I always had a number of people stop by and ask questions as it was a rather unique piece of equipment. I always tried to answer the inquiries, but in truth I knew very little about it as my instructions had been so rudimentary and I didn't even have a manual to refer to.
One day a lieutenant stopped by. He barely acknowledged my salute and greeting and just poked his nose around in a most obnoxious manner, acting as if I were not even there. I thought if his mother had not taught him any manners, perhaps I should. Two vents for releasing the steam were located about waist high in the middle of the unit. The valves that operated them happened to be on the opposite side. By getting down on the ground I could see the lieutenant's feet. When they stopped in front of the vents, I stood up and spun the valves open. There was a very satisfyingly loud yell. I ran around to that side and found the lieutenant in a freshly steam-cleaned uniform. I apologized profusely for the accident, while he grumbled something about the fact that he shouldn't have been there anyhow and hobbled off in the direction of sickbay.
By: Leonard Skinner 1944
July 2007
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Roscoe the Male African Lion Mascot of the 28th Marines 5th Marine Division
1944-1945
While working on my short history of Camp Tarawa, I stumbled on what I feel is a real human (or animal) interest story. When I first heard about Roscoe I was intrigued by the story of just how an African lion wound up as a living mascot of a Marine Regiment, how they acquired him, and how they got him aboard ship and here to Camp Tarawa on the Big
Island.
So thanks to Alice Clark of the Pacific War Memorial Association's and Maile Melrose of Waimea Main Streets, Camp
Tarawa oral history project, and their personal interviews with Major General Fred Haynes USMC (retired). Maile
Melrose's interview was on March 19, 1995 in Waimea Hawai'i. Alice Clark's interview was on July 18, 1996 at the Little America Hotel in Salt Lake City, Utah. What you will be reading came directly from both interviews. I think you, as I have, will find the life and times of Roscoe a fascinating look back to a little bit of Marine Corps history. For more information on the Pacific War Memorial go to: www.pacificwarmemorial.org/
So here is how General Haynes remembers Roscoe.
Roscoe was a great lion. I'm sorry he isn't with us today, 50 years later. We bought him for $25.00 from the Los Angeles zoo (Griffith Park). He was a little bitty cub. I mean he was as cute as he could be. I don't think you could buy a lion from any zoo these days.
We took Roscoe to our initial training camp which was at Camp Pendleton California and when we were ordered overseas we, much to their dismay, conned the Navy into letting us bring Roscoe to Hawai'i and we settled him in at Camp Tarawa here in Waimea. He was still a fairly small cub, but when we went to Iwo, the Navy wouldn't let us take him aboard ship, which probably good luck for him.
He was a great howler: he could out-howl the band! We had a good band in the Division. It was lead by Bob Crosby, Bing Crosby's brother. Then we would have these little parades over at the athletic field of about four hundred to five hundred men. Roscoe would drape himself over the hood of a Jeep and go over to the parade ground and the band would play and he would howl, or growl madly much to the discomfort of the band leader Bob Crosby. It was like being in darkest Africa to hear him let fly.
He was a big friendly guy, but we wouldn't let the average Marine go near him, only the three or four Marines who bought him and brought him to Camp Pendleton and really knew him. One or two of them had been wounded at Iwo and returned home, but there were a couple of them left when we came back and he was very friendly to them. They would go and feed him and he would growl a little bit that he was happy they were here.
There was an adjutant in our Regiment who was about five to ten years older than most of us who decided he would learn to play the bagpipes before we went to Iwo to pipe us ashore. Well he did and that lasted just several minutes and that was the last of that set of bagpipes. He got ahold of another set when we returned to Camp Tarawa. Now he was an insomniac and would play the bagpipes until two or three in the morning and of course Roscoe would join right in. So we moved both of them far enough away where they could enjoy one another's music and let the rest of us get some sleep.
In any event we came back here, and here was Roscoe weighing about 300-350 pounds and he grew and grew and got to 100% African lion size, weighed 400 pounds and ate a huge amount of food. We got meat from the Parker Ranch for him and we also took scraps from
the mess halls that we would go around and get for him. He was well fed and we had him here for at least four or five months and then distemper got ahold of him, he became quite ill, and the veterinarians put him to sleep.
General Haynes' last statements were: "He is buried somewhere here on the Big Island. It was down near the camp but I wouldn't recognize the spot if we tried to find it. So that's my story of Roscoe, a great lion, and he lies here on the Big Island of Hawai'i. We ought to erect a little memorial to this male African lion who has now become part of our Big Island history."
I feel this is not the end of this story and when members of the old 28th read this it may bring back more memories of Roscoe that they will share with all of us.
Page up dated August 13, 2009
Camp Tarawa
Sea Stories
