Death in New Guinea
Greetings and salutations. Today, while cataloging a museum collection, I came across a letter from a soldier in WWII. His name is Hershel G. Horton from Aurora, IL and his last station was in New Guinea at the tail end of 1942. You may have seen letters like this one (below) before, but it's amazing to me how long someone can survive purely on faith and hope. I am posting this letter because it moved me, and because some of you may find it interesting as well.
Last letter of 1st Lt. Hershel G. Horton (Company I, 126th Infantry, 3rd Battalion, 32nd Division, Sananada Road, New Guinea)
Dear beloved, my dear sweet father, mother and sister, Mr. and Mrs. George A. Horton, Jr., and Sister Gwenivere, about 9am I came out on a mercy patrol to pick up dog tags, etc. of our dead. This was the morning of December 1, 1942.
I was trying to turn over the body of Captain Keast, a friend of mine, when I was shot two or three times in my right leg and hip. Lieutenant Ellis, Sergeant Young, and Pvt. Merle Christian were with me. I yelled that I was shot. I was in front of all but Merle; they ran for shelter. I dragged myself for a Jap grass shanty about 12 yards to the rear of where I was shot.
Sergeant Young said he would send help as soon as possible. Possible never came, evidently because I laid there unattended in any way, without food, or water, or medical care. Two days of semideliriousness, and then I called Captain Shirley’s name, “Ellis, help,” etc. Finally, Lieutenant Gibbs and of his men from the antitank company came to me. Their medic also came up. The medic gave me my first drink of water in 3 days, but he had no food to offer. The medic bandaged me temporarily. Lieutenant Gibbs promised me aid, but I never saw him again. The medic came back and gave me water, but a man helping him got shot there and that scared him away. Life from then on was a terrible nightmare. The hot, burning sun, the delirious nights. No one came near me from then on, but I did dig a water hole in 4 days’ time, which was wonderful to me, although it was polluted by all the rotting bodies within 12 and 14 feet of me. Then two or three rescue parties from my company came out, but they never could find me. On two or three occasions they nearly got to me, when the Japs or a rainstorm made it impossible. The Japs are living within 15 yards of me. I see them everyday.
I have tried to make splints and crawl or walk out, but I just can’t make it. Today (as nearly as I can judge December 11), I managed to stand, but I could go no farther. A Jap shot me in the shoulder and neck as I weakly sat there, and I thought my time had come, but no, I sit and lay here in this terrible place, wondering not why God has forsaken me, but rather why He is making me suffer this terrible end. It is true I understand life and its reasons now, but why should He send it to this terrible grave with me? Why not let me live and tell others?
I am not afraid to die, although I nearly lost my faith a couple of days here. I have a pistol here, but I could not kill myself; I still have faith in the Lord. I think He must be giving me the supreme test. I know now how Christ felt on the cross.
I have imagined hearing several other rescue parties, but one’s imagination grows as his body shrivels.
I have had no food of any kind since that morning I was shot. My right hip is broken and my right leg, both compound fractures; else I could have been out of here in those first couple of days, wounds or no wounds.
My life has been good, but I am so young and have so many things undone that a man of 29 should do.
We may never know God’s purpose in striking me down like this, but He must have one. I can still say truthfully that I have never killed a man, although I have been ordered to order others to.
I wonder how long a man can go on like this? I shall continue to pray for a miracle of rescue. I want to commend Lieutenant Ellis for his wonderful efforts and heroism in attempt to rescue me under Jap treachery.
God bless you my loved ones. Keep the faith; don’t worry. I shall see you all again some day. I prepare to meet my Maker.
Love,
Hershel
Last letter of 1st Lt. Hershel G. Horton (Company I, 126th Infantry, 3rd Battalion, 32nd Division, Sananada Road, New Guinea)
Dear beloved, my dear sweet father, mother and sister, Mr. and Mrs. George A. Horton, Jr., and Sister Gwenivere, about 9am I came out on a mercy patrol to pick up dog tags, etc. of our dead. This was the morning of December 1, 1942.
I was trying to turn over the body of Captain Keast, a friend of mine, when I was shot two or three times in my right leg and hip. Lieutenant Ellis, Sergeant Young, and Pvt. Merle Christian were with me. I yelled that I was shot. I was in front of all but Merle; they ran for shelter. I dragged myself for a Jap grass shanty about 12 yards to the rear of where I was shot.
Sergeant Young said he would send help as soon as possible. Possible never came, evidently because I laid there unattended in any way, without food, or water, or medical care. Two days of semideliriousness, and then I called Captain Shirley’s name, “Ellis, help,” etc. Finally, Lieutenant Gibbs and of his men from the antitank company came to me. Their medic also came up. The medic gave me my first drink of water in 3 days, but he had no food to offer. The medic bandaged me temporarily. Lieutenant Gibbs promised me aid, but I never saw him again. The medic came back and gave me water, but a man helping him got shot there and that scared him away. Life from then on was a terrible nightmare. The hot, burning sun, the delirious nights. No one came near me from then on, but I did dig a water hole in 4 days’ time, which was wonderful to me, although it was polluted by all the rotting bodies within 12 and 14 feet of me. Then two or three rescue parties from my company came out, but they never could find me. On two or three occasions they nearly got to me, when the Japs or a rainstorm made it impossible. The Japs are living within 15 yards of me. I see them everyday.
I have tried to make splints and crawl or walk out, but I just can’t make it. Today (as nearly as I can judge December 11), I managed to stand, but I could go no farther. A Jap shot me in the shoulder and neck as I weakly sat there, and I thought my time had come, but no, I sit and lay here in this terrible place, wondering not why God has forsaken me, but rather why He is making me suffer this terrible end. It is true I understand life and its reasons now, but why should He send it to this terrible grave with me? Why not let me live and tell others?
I am not afraid to die, although I nearly lost my faith a couple of days here. I have a pistol here, but I could not kill myself; I still have faith in the Lord. I think He must be giving me the supreme test. I know now how Christ felt on the cross.
I have imagined hearing several other rescue parties, but one’s imagination grows as his body shrivels.
I have had no food of any kind since that morning I was shot. My right hip is broken and my right leg, both compound fractures; else I could have been out of here in those first couple of days, wounds or no wounds.
My life has been good, but I am so young and have so many things undone that a man of 29 should do.
We may never know God’s purpose in striking me down like this, but He must have one. I can still say truthfully that I have never killed a man, although I have been ordered to order others to.
I wonder how long a man can go on like this? I shall continue to pray for a miracle of rescue. I want to commend Lieutenant Ellis for his wonderful efforts and heroism in attempt to rescue me under Jap treachery.
God bless you my loved ones. Keep the faith; don’t worry. I shall see you all again some day. I prepare to meet my Maker.
Love,
Hershel