Racial tolerance from the ground up

Nearly 60 years ago, our country mobilized for war. An expected and un-provoked attack had been made on our homeland and an evil was lose in the world that we could not suffer to exist, and the call went up throughout the land for young men to step up in the service of their country. Millions of patriots answered that call, each eager to do their part to defend freedom from the dominating regime of the

Axis powers.

The young men who made up what would come to be the 442nd Combat Infantry Regiment of the U.S. Seventh Army were no different. Each one of the 2,000 original volunteers, and all of those who would follow them into the regiment, were ready to lay their lives on the line to stand up for the ideals that we, as Americans, hold dear. But the 442nd was not formed as a regular unit, and many were opposed to its formation at all.

The 442nd was an experiment. All of the enlisted men that made up the unit had one thing in common: they were Nisei, second-generation Japanese-Americans, at a time when America was at war with Japan. Their parents and families, some Japanese by birth but all sworn American citizens, were no longer living in cities and towns across the country alongside other Americans; they now resided in special camps in the Midwest, surrounded on all sides by fences and watched by armed guards. But these young men, were who viewed by many as enemy aliens, who were reviled and spat upon as they boarded trains to take them to boot camp, proved themselves time and time again in training, and, after a long struggle on their part and the part of the few regular army officers who would support them, they were given their chance to prove themselves in combat.

Attached to the 7th Army, the 442nd was sent to Italy at the beginning of the long, bloody campaign to liberate Mediterranean Europe from the Germans. The Nisei fought as hard as they could, taking on the hardest missions with gusto. They soon earned a reputation for bravery and valor as well as for their ferocity in combat; even the most bigoted of skeptics could not deny their record. Their reputation spread amongst the enemy, as well, as the German came to know and fear the tenacity and unbreakable spirit of these wiry little Americans. The 442nd paid a toll in blood for their recognition: in the first few months of the campaign, over eight hundred of the original two thousand men were killed or injured so badly that they could not return to combat.

As the 7th Army pressed inland to liberate the Italian capital of Rome, the 442nd was the spearhead of the effort, fighting at the very tip of the American push, breaking the trail for all who came behind them. With their flanks unguarded and without the support of tanks or artillery, they fought a savage battle against the German Wehrmacht to within twelve miles of the city limits, forcing an all-out German retreat. The 442nd paused and regrouped, then girded themselves to enter Rome and liberate the city, which by now was devoid of enemy forces.

But the word came down from above ordering the unit to halt and remain in place, so they did. An all-white unit, with clean, pressed uniforms and shiny new weapons was brought up from the rear to enter first and liberate Rome. The 442nd never even got to Rome, nor did they get the much-deserved leave that was promised them; they were thrown back into the fighting, put on the forefront of the savage mountain battles to liberate northern Italy.

After Italy, they were given a very brief rest before becoming a part of the glider landings precipitating Operation Dragoon, a push by the 7th Army into southern France to expedite the drive into Germany’s homelands. The 442nd was involved in some of the most bitter and hard-won battles of the war, and pushed all the way to the Austrian Alps before the end of the war in 1945.

When it was all said and done, the 442nd Combat Infantry Regiment held the distinction of being the most decorated unit in the entire United States Army in World War II. All who served in it, though each one felt the sting of the discrimination held against them, distinguished themselves with honor, commitment, and resolve.

Discrimination, be it racial or otherwise, is not just despicable; it is futile. Bigotry neither solves anything nor does it even serve the ends of those who employ it. It may slow the effects a movement, it may hamper the freedom of a group of people, Bigotry has never served to completely stop of efforts of those who would throw of the shackles of oppression and live free and equal.

History remembers the 442nd Combat Infantry Regiment and the Japanese-American men who served in it, as it remembers Dr. Martin Luther King, Rosa Parks, and countless others. But history does not remember the officer who gave the order to prevent the 442nd from entering Rome. History does not recall the names of the sheriff and his deputies who tried to stop Dr. King from marching in Selma, Ala.

There is no memorial to the driver who threw Rosa Parks off the bus when she wouldn’t give up her seat to a white man. No nations celebrate the birthday of Adolf Hitler. There is no recognizance of the inauguration of Emperor Hirohito of Japan.

It is important, now more than ever, that each one of us is able to look beyond the color of a person’s skin or the homeland of their ancestors. Nobody hates me because my ancestors came from Sweden; why should I hate somebody because their ancestors came from the Middle East? We’re all Americans here.

Anders Benson is a student at Eastern Maine Technical College in Bangor.