|
Robert
C. McGiffert
 |
 |
photo
courtesy of Bob McGiffert
|
photo
by Thais Boise
|
| McGiffert
enlisted at 21, after finishing his last two years at Princeton
University in just a year. |
A
legend at the University of Montana School of Journalism,
McGiffert says he probably wouldn't have become a journalist
if not for the war. |
War: |
World War II |
Branch: |
U.S. Army |
Unit: |
HQ, Americal division |
Service Location: |
Solomon Islands, Philippine Islands, Japan |
Highest Rank: |
First lieutenant |
Birth Year: |
1922 |
Place of Birth: |
Elizabeth, N.J. |
Losing
faith in war
by Katie Aschim
Veterans History Project
Robert C. McGiffert hasn’t taught at the University of
Montana School of Journalism for years, but he is still a forceful
presence there.
Tacked on a bulletin board are some of his frequent editing critiques,
often signed “Cantankerous.” He rarely skips faculty
get-togethers. And his colleagues have established a scholarship
in his name.
The man who spent almost 30 years lecturing students on the difference
between “lie” and “lay” might never have
become a UM legend had it not been for a surprise attack on Pearl
Harbor at the end of his third semester at Princeton University.
McGiffert, now 81, went to Princeton as an international affairs
major and had considered becoming a lawyer like his older brother.
While he was at Princeton, he said, his father gave him some
good advice.
“He said to me, ‘Son, we’re going to be in this war’ – the
war had started in Europe in 1939; of course it started in Asia
before that – he said, ‘the United States is going
to be involved eventually. You’re probably going to have
to be in the service, and it’d probably be much better
if you were an officer than an enlisted man,’ ” McGiffert
said.
McGiffert joined the ROTC. During a midday meal on a trip home
on Dec. 7, 1941, a friend phoned to tell him that the Japanese
had attacked Pearl Harbor.
“Everything changed almost immediately,” McGiffert said. “People
began dropping out to enlist and others who stayed, a lot of
us changed our programs almost immediately to get into the accelerated
program to speed up things to get our degrees before we went
into the service. And attitudes, everything really changed. College
was a matter of either getting through or dropping it until later – putting
it on hold. We all became pretty totally absorbed with our future
and the war.”
By taking a heavy course load and eliminating breaks from his
schedule, he was able to finish two and a half years of school
in just over a year. After college, McGiffert attended officer
training school. While most of his classmates attended field
artillery training in Fort Sill, Oklahoma, McGiffert, who had
poor eyesight, went to Administrative OCS in Fort Washington,
Maryland.
“It’s funny how it turned out – I got sent overseas
and ended up doing nothing really connected with my officer training
after that,” McGiffert said.
McGiffert was first sent to New Caledonia, an island off the
coast of Australia, in March 1943. From there, he was shipped
to Guadalcanal, New Georgia, and Bougainville in the Pacific.
McGiffert first served as an education officer, giving current
events lectures to troops. While he was on Bougainville, someone
noted McGiffert’s history in journalism: he had been involved
with newspapers since junior high and had worked as a stringer
for a number of papers to make money during college.
He was reassigned to the Americal Infantry Division and became
a war correspondent. During his remaining time in the Pacific,
he researched and wrote stories about the men in his company.
He was also responsible for showing visiting reporters around
camps.
“I was sort of my own boss, as much as you can be your own boss
in the army,” McGiffert said.
In March of 1945, he was part of the assault force that retook
Cebu, a cigar-shaped island about 100 miles long in the Philippines
that had been held by the Japanese
since early 1942.
The fighting on Cebu lasted several months and cost his division 600 men. His
memories of the campaign are vivid.
“I went down to the line and was with a rifle company that got caught in
a firefight,” he said. “I remember the aftermath of that. The Japanese
took one of our people prisoner. We found him just a few minutes later and he’d
been beheaded.” The man had also had multiple bayonet wounds, McGiffert
said.
Somewhere in the Pacific, McGiffert lost his faith in the God of his childhood.
“I had no religious faith when the war was over, and I think the war had
something
to do with that,” he said. “I suppose that has colored a lot of
what I am and how I approach things.”
But on the day the Enola Gay dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan,
the man who no longer believed found a jeep and went to the nearest church.
“I heard about this terrible bomb that had destroyed a whole city, and
I just had the sense that we’d lost our moral position,” McGiffert
said. “With
all the pros and cons, all the arguments that it would save a lot of lives … it
all may have been true. I don’t know if moral position matters in war.
But I felt until that time that we’d held the moral ground, and we
lost it that day.”
In the jumble of the next few days, another bomb was dropped and Japan surrendered
to the United States. As a correspondent, McGiffert had the opportunity to
witness the surrender of Japanese troops on Cebu.
 |
 |
photo
and typewritten caption courtesy of Bob McGiffert
|
During the battle for the
island, the Japanese
had lost their radios and had no way of hearing about Japanese surrender.
Through an exchange of notes, the Americans were finally able to get a commanding
officer
to come to headquarters to listen to a Japanese broadcast. After the broadcast,
the Japanese soldiers arranged a formal surrender in which they handed over
their sabers to American troops.
McGiffert and his photographer were there to capture the event,
and McGiffert counts photos of the surrender among his possessions.
He wrote a long letter
to his parents describing the scene, which was later reprinted in his hometown
newspaper. Fifty years later, he wrote about the event for the Missoulian.
 |
photo by Thais Boise |
| McGiffert has
several photos of the Japanese surrender on Cebu. |
In March 1946, McGiffert was discharged as a first lieutenant
and came home to Pennsylvania. While overjoyed to be back among
friends and family, he found it
hard to rejoin the world he’d left.
“Three years maybe isn’t that long, but it’s three years,” he
said.
After two months of considering a career as a lawyer, McGiffert was eager to
get back to work.
“I was a Depression kid, and part of growing up at that time was a desire
to work,” he
said. He went to work at a newspaper in Easton, Pa. In 1962, after 16 years
in the newspaper business, McGiffert turned to life as a journalism professor
at
Ohio State, which led to his exodus to Montana four years later.
Looking back on his army career, McGiffert recalled a time when America united
to fight a clear and common enemy.
“When Japan attacked the U.S., we wanted to be a part of it,” he
said. “There
was no doubt that we should be in this war.” The United States, he
said, has not been in that position since.
“I’m glad to have had the experience of fighting for my country,” McGiffert
said. “There were some pretty bad days … I really didn’t
like being in the army, but I think I would have disliked not being in the
army more.”
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