Right after graduating from Kahuku High School, my eager and absent-minded seventeen year-old grandpa decided to enroll in World War II with his best friend, Ned. He was sixteen when the Japanese government bombed Pearl Harbor, and after that tragedy he wanted to show his country who he was. He wanted to show his country he was more of an American than a Japanese. He wanted to show them that not all Japanese were horrible and hurtful, and the government shouldn't have forced people into concentration camps. He wanted to show them he was just as good as anyone else, and he just wanted to prove his loyalty towards his American citizenship to the world.
He was the oldest of five children, and his parents wanted him to do them proud. They looked past the fact that he would have to lie about his age, and praised him for the wonderful deed he was going to accomplish. Not knowing that the next time he would see them was going to be in ten years, he left for the war. Unfortunately, his wing man, Ned, didn't pass some type of health test, and my grandpa had to leave him behind. He was alone, afraid and anxious.
He was part of the 442, 100th Battalion, private first class that was stationed in Europe, France and Italy, and there he picked up the habit of smoking. After those couple of years away from home, he had the opportunity of a lifetime to go to college in New York because of the GI. BILL. At that same time, my grandmother wanted to go on an exciting trip to the mainland with her step sister to escape everything going on in her hometown, Makiki. Coincidentally, two locals from Hawaii met and fell in love in the mainland, and they both got married and settled down in New Jersey. Soon after that, my mom was born. They decided to move back to Honolulu after my great-grandma started to get sick. My grandmother got pregnat again but her second child was born pre-mature and died soon after birth. I can't imagine the pain my grandparents went through, and my mom doesn't have any memories of this because she was only one at the time. Although, if it wasn't for this my aunty and uncle wouldn't have been born. Ten years after my uncle was born, my grandfather died from lung cancer. He never could stop smoking after World War II and it was something my grandma always wanted him to stop. My mom, aunty, uncle, and grandma all dealt with this their own ways and they lived the rest of their lives without a dad, or a husband.
From this I got that everything happens for a reason. The events that happen in someone's life makes them who they are today. My grandpa went through so much during that time of his life, and has probably had to deal with multiple best friends' deaths. He knows the true meaning of "Go for broke, " and like many other war veterans, he didn't like to think about World War II after it was done. I wish I knew more about his experiences but I know it's something that he would've never liked to talk about if he was still alive. He's the grandpa I've always wanted to meet. Growing up without a grandfather has made me wonder, "what if." But growing up without a grandfather also makes me appreciate my father more because I know none of my parents really had a father influence in their life too.
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