In October 1944, more than 200 American soldiers from Texas were trapped in a French forest, surrounded by German troops, with no way out.
The unit sent to save them suffered more than 800 casualties doing it.
Those rescuers were Japanese American soldiers, whose own families were imprisoned back home in US internment camps.
This is the story of the 442nd..🧵1/6
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In the fear and chaos after Pearl Harbor, the United States made a decision that many Americans would later come to regret. Around 120,000 people of Japanese ancestry on the West Coast, most of them American citizens, were moved from their homes into internment camps for the duration of the war.
Among them were thousands of young Nisei, American-born sons of Japanese immigrants. They had grown up in the United States. They thought of themselves as Americans, and they wanted the chance to prove it.
In 1943 they got that chance. The Army called for volunteers to form a new all-Nisei combat unit. The response was overwhelming. More than ten thousand men stepped forward, many of them volunteering from inside the very camps where their families were being held.
They became the 442nd Regimental Combat Team. They chose a motto that said everything about them.
Go for Broke.
Bet everything.
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They trained at Camp Shelby in Mississippi and shipped out to Italy in 1944, joining the 100th Infantry Battalion, another Japanese American unit that had already fought so hard it earned the grim nickname the Purple Heart Battalion.
From the start, the Nisei soldiers fought with a fierce determination. They knew that every battle was being watched, and that they were fighting not just the enemy in front of them, but the doubts about their loyalty back home. They were determined to leave no question unanswered.
They drove the Germans through Italy, then into southern France. They earned a reputation across the Army as some of the most relentless, dependable soldiers in Europe. Where the 442nd was sent, the line moved forward.
Then, in October 1944, in the cold and fog of the Vosges Mountains in France, they were handed the mission that would define them.
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A battalion of Texans, around 275 men of the 36th Infantry Division, had pushed deep into the forest and been cut off and surrounded by German forces. They became known as the Lost Battalion. They were running out of food, water, and ammunition, and two attempts to reach them had already failed.
The 442nd was ordered in.
What followed was nearly a week of some of the most brutal fighting of the war. The Nisei soldiers climbed uphill through dense, freezing forest, into machine gun fire and artillery that the Germans aimed at the treetops, so that every shell sent a storm of shrapnel and splintered wood raining down on the men below. They advanced sometimes only a few hundred yards a day, taking terrible losses, refusing to stop.
On October 30, they finally broke through and reached the trapped Texans. They brought 211 of them out alive.
The rescue cost the 442nd dearly. To save those men, the regiment suffered more than 800 casualties. They paid that price without hesitation, for fellow American soldiers they had never met.
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By the end of the war, the record of the 442nd was almost beyond belief.
For its size and length of service, it became one of the most decorated units in United States military history. Its soldiers earned 21 Medals of Honor, thousands of Purple Hearts, multiple Presidential Unit Citations, and thousands of other decorations for valor and service.
Among them was a young lieutenant named Daniel Inouye, who lost his right arm leading an assault on a German position in Italy. He would go on to serve his country for half a century as a United States Senator from Hawaii.
These were men who had every reason to be bitter, and who instead chose to give everything. They fought, in a sense, two wars at once. One against the enemy overseas, and one against the doubt and prejudice they faced at home. They won both.
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In time, America recognized what these men had done.
In 1962 the state of Texas made the soldiers of the 442nd honorary Texans, in gratitude for the Lost Battalion they had saved. Decades later, a review of the war records found that prejudice at the time had denied many Nisei soldiers the honors they deserved, and in 2000 a number of their medals were upgraded to the Medal of Honor. In 2010 the entire unit was awarded the Congressional Gold Medal, one of the highest honors the nation can give.
The United States also formally apologized for the internment, and acknowledged that those loyal citizens should never have been imprisoned.
The men of the 442nd had answered the deepest possible test of loyalty with their lives, and in doing so they proved something timeless. That being an American has never been about where your family came from. It is about what you are willing to give for the country you call home.
This was the story of the 442nd, the Go for Broke regiment.
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He wanted to fight so badly that he lied his way into the Marines at 14, and when they tried to keep him out of combat, he stowed away on a ship to Iwo Jima.
Six days after his 17th birthday, he threw himself onto two grenades to save three other men.
And then he survived.
This is the story of Jack Lucas..🧵1/6
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Jacklyn Harrell Lucas was born in 1928 in Plymouth, North Carolina. Everyone called him Jack.
He was big for his age, broad and muscular, and after the attack on Pearl Harbor he became desperate to fight. There was just one problem. He was 14 years old.
So he forged his mother's signature, lied about his age, and in August 1942, at the age of 14, he talked his way into the Marine Corps Reserve. His size let him pass for 17. He went off to boot camp at Parris Island while boys his real age were still in school.
About a year later, the Marine Corps figured out how young he actually was. But instead of throwing him out, they posted him to Hawaii, far from the front, driving a truck and handling supplies. They were keeping the underage Marine safely away from combat.
Jack Lucas had no intention of sitting out the war.
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In early 1945 he made his move.
Lucas slipped away from his unit and stowed away aboard the USS Deuel, a transport ship he knew was heading toward the fighting. He hid aboard for nearly a month, helped by his cousin, living in secret as the ship steamed across the Pacific. He turned himself in only one day before he would have been officially declared a deserter.
By then the ship was committed to the invasion of Iwo Jima, and the Marines aboard simply absorbed the determined teenager into their ranks as a rifleman. He was busted down in rank as punishment, but he had what he wanted. He was going to the battle.
On February 14, 1945, while still at sea, Jack Lucas turned 17.
Five days later, on February 19, he waded ashore onto the black volcanic sand of Iwo Jima, one of the most savagely defended places American troops would ever assault.
Stories spread through Bataan about a captain who seemed to appear and disappear in the jungle.
Something was crawling behind Japanese lines at night, ambushing patrols, hitting their positions, and vanishing before they could react.
It was one American officer, often alone, with a Thompson and a handful of grenades.
American troops began calling him the Ghost of Bataan.
This is the story of Arthur Wermuth..🧵1/6
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Arthur Wermuth was a captain in the 57th Infantry Regiment, one of only a handful of American officers in a unit made up mostly of Philippine Scouts, the tough, highly trained Filipino soldiers who fought alongside the United States Army.
Just hours after Pearl Harbor, Japan invaded the Philippines. The American and Filipino defenders were pushed back onto the Bataan Peninsula, outnumbered, low on supplies, and slowly being starved of food, medicine, and ammunition. There would be no reinforcements coming. They were on their own.
Most men in that position would have hunkered down and tried to survive.
Wermuth did the opposite.
He went hunting.
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He armed himself with a Thompson submachine gun, two pistols, and a bag of grenades, and he went out into the jungle, often alone or with a small handful of his Scouts, to take the war to the Japanese.
He would crawl through the mud for hours, letting enemy patrols march right past him in the dark, then slip behind their lines to a ridge above their camp and open fire, throwing the enemy into chaos and convincing them that a whole American force had gotten into their rear. Then he would disappear back into the jungle.
He ambushed patrols. He attacked enemy positions and supply areas. He picked off enemy snipers at their own game. His raids became so bold and so frequent that his reputation spread across Bataan as a kind of phantom who could not be caught.
In one of his most famous actions, he was ordered to destroy a bridge the Japanese were using to push south.
A 25-year-old American bombardier was given the order to bail out of his dying aircraft over Romania.
He had a parachute. He could have jumped and lived.
Instead, he took it off, strapped it onto a wounded gunner who had lost his own, and helped the man jump to safety.
The last anyone saw of him, he was standing on the bomb bay catwalk of the doomed bomber.
This is the story of David Kingsley..🧵1/6
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David Richard Kingsley was a firefighter from Portland, Oregon. He joined the Army Air Forces in 1942, trained as a bombardier, and by the summer of 1944 was a second lieutenant flying B-17 Flying Fortresses with the 97th Bombardment Group out of the Mediterranean.
A bombardier's job was to aim and release the bombs. In the final seconds of the bomb run, he effectively flew the aircraft straight and level through the flak so the bombs could hit the target. It took nerve to sit in the glass nose of a bomber and hold steady while the sky around you filled with exploding steel.
On June 23 1944, Kingsley flew a mission against the oil refineries at Ploesti in Romania, the great fuel source feeding the German war machine, and one of the most heavily defended targets in all of Europe.
It was his 20th combat mission, and four days before his 26th birthday.
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On the bomb run, Kingsley's B-17 was hammered by flak and forced out of formation. The pilot held course over the target anyway, and Kingsley dropped his bombs squarely onto the refinery.
But now they were alone, damaged, falling behind, and losing altitude. Exactly the kind of straggler German fighters hunted.
Three Messerschmitt 109s found them. Cannon fire raked the bomber. The tail gunner was badly wounded in the arm, bleeding heavily. The crew called for Kingsley, who made his way back through the aircraft, reached the wounded man, and worked to stop the bleeding, saving his life right there.
Then eight more Messerschmitt 109s came again, and a second gunner was wounded. The bomber was being torn apart around them.
In 1938, the World Cup was held in a Europe sliding toward war.
One team had been swallowed by Nazi Germany.
Another walked onto the pitch in black shirts and gave the fascist salute.
A dictator wanted the trophy as proof his regime was superior.
Within a year, the continent would be at war.
This is the story of the World Cup before the war..🧵1/7
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The tournament was held in France in June 1938, and the shadow of fascism hung over all of it.
Spain could not take part. It was tearing itself apart in a civil war that was a rehearsal for the larger war to come.
Austria had qualified as an independent nation. But in March 1938, just months before the tournament, Nazi Germany marched in and annexed the country in the event known as the Anschluss. Austria ceased to exist, and with it, its national team. The players were to be absorbed into the German squad.
Before that happened, the Nazis staged one last match in Vienna, a so-called reconciliation game between Austria and Germany to celebrate the union. The Austrian players were quietly told it would be wise to let the game end in a friendly draw.
Austria's greatest star, Matthias Sindelar, one of the finest footballers in the world, had other ideas.
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For most of that match, Sindelar missed chance after chance, almost mockingly, as if to make a point of the order he had been given.
Then, in the second half, he scored. A teammate added a second. Austria beat Germany 2 to 0, in defiance of everything the occasion was supposed to represent.
And then Sindelar, standing in front of a stand full of senior Nazi officials, danced a joyful jig of celebration in their faces.
It was the last match the independent Austria would ever play. Sindelar refused to play for the new German team. Less than a year later, in January 1939, he was found dead in his apartment, alongside his girlfriend, from gas poisoning. Whether it was an accident, suicide, or murder by the regime he had defied has been argued ever since.
A team that had earned its place at the World Cup had been erased from the map before a ball was kicked in France.
Already shot in the side, he climbed a 100-foot cliff on D-Day, hunted down five enemy guns the Germans had hidden inland, and destroyed them almost single-handedly with grenades and the butt of his rifle.
Those guns could have killed thousands on the beaches.
A historian called him the most important American on D-Day after Eisenhower.
This is the story of Bud Lomell..🧵1/6
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Leonard Lomell, known as Bud, was a 24-year-old First Sergeant in Company D of the 2nd Ranger Battalion. He had grown up in New Jersey, worked as a freight train brakeman, and volunteered for the Rangers, the toughest and most demanding unit the Army had.
His battalion was handed one of the most dangerous assignments of the entire invasion.
A few miles west of Omaha Beach stood a cliff called Pointe du Hoc. On top of it, the Germans had built a battery of five massive 155 millimeter coastal guns. From that height, those guns could reach both Omaha and Utah beaches, and the fleet of ships in the Channel between them. If they opened fire on the morning of June 6, they could slaughter thousands of American soldiers as they came ashore.
The Rangers were given a simple, almost suicidal task. Climb the 100-foot cliff, and destroy the guns.
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Everything went wrong from the start.
The landing craft were pushed off course and arrived around 35 minutes late, with the German defenders fully alert and waiting. As Lomell came off his boat, before he had even reached dry land, a machine gun bullet tore into his side.
He kept going.
Wounded, he and his men reached the base of the cliff and began to climb. The Rangers went up hand over hand, using ropes and ladders, while the Germans above them fired down and cut the ropes and threw grenades. Men were hit and fell. But the Rangers kept climbing, and Bud Lomell, bleeding from his wound, hauled himself to the top.
Then came the moment that should have ruined everything. The Rangers fought their way to the gun emplacements they had crossed an ocean and climbed a cliff to destroy.
Before he was an astronaut. Before he orbited the Earth. Before he was a senator.
He was a Marine fighter pilot so aggressive, so willing to dive into enemy fire to hit his target, that he kept coming home with hundreds of holes in his jet.
His squadron joked he must have a magnet in his backside.
They called him Magnet Ass.
This is the story of John Glenn..🧵1/4
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John Glenn left college after Pearl Harbor and became a Marine aviator, earning his wings in 1943. He flew 59 combat missions in the Pacific during the Second World War, attacking Japanese positions across the islands.
But it was Korea where his reputation as a pilot was made.
In February 1953 he joined Marine Fighter Squadron 311, flying the F9F Panther jet on low-level close air support missions, diving down to hammer enemy positions while every gun on the ground fired back at him. He flew so low and pressed his attacks so hard that he kept coming home with his aircraft riddled by bullets and shrapnel.
His squadron mates joked that he must have a magnet in his rear end, the way he attracted enemy fire. The nickname stuck. Magnet Ass Glenn.
One of his aircraft was later photographed with more than 700 holes torn in it from shrapnel. He flew 63 missions in Korea this way, and kept going back up.
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One of the men who flew on Glenn's wing in Korea was a Marine reservist named Ted Williams, the Boston Red Sox slugger and one of the greatest hitters in the history of baseball, pulled out of his career to fly combat jets.
Williams later said of Glenn, "Absolutely fearless. The best I ever saw. It was an honor to fly with him." The two stayed friends for the rest of their lives.
In the closing weeks of the war, Glenn got himself transferred to an Air Force squadron flying the F-86 Sabre, hunting enemy MiG fighters in the deadly stretch of sky known as MiG Alley. He painted "MiG Mad Marine" on his jet and flew 27 more missions.
In the last nine days of the Korean War, John Glenn shot down three MiG-15s in air-to-air combat. The final kill came less than a week before the guns fell silent.
Across two wars he flew 149 combat missions, earned the Distinguished Flying Cross six times, and was awarded 18 Air Medals.