What was the 442nd infantry regiment

Duus, Masayo. Unlikely Liberators: The Men of the th and nd. Honolulu, Inouye, Daniel K. Journey to Washington. Englewood Cliffs, NJ, Murphy, Thomas D. Takejiro Kodama. Private Noyama of Headquarters Company, nd combat team, stands guard at the entrance to Field Headquarters. The combat team wears.

Building a Pontoon Bridge. The bridge completed, a company of infantry rush with fixed bayonets to the opposite shore and. The story of the nd combat team - title page. The story of the nd combat team - dedication. A telephone switch board and operator is here shown deeply dug in during maneuvers of the nd field artillery. The Japanese-Americans who compose the nd combat team in training at Camp Shelby are keenly interested in daily news from.

Eyes Right. A company of infantry stand at attention during training on the Camp Shelby drill field. The nd combat. Hot Mississippi. Members of the nd combat team drape themselves on a jeep to dress after a cool swim in. Today, the nd is remembered as the most decorated unit for its size and length of service in the history of the US military.

Additionally, the th garnished their own impressive record prior to their absorption into the nd. In , various groups and advocates, including the National Veterans Network, were successful in obtaining congressional passage of the bill S.

They fought heroically, leaving behind a record that is still untouched today. The th Infantry Battalion, comprised largely of second generation Nisei, bravely fought in Europe and became one of America's most highly decorated units of World War II.

As an adult, Janine Simone Hopkins was encouraged by her family to record her experiences and reflections of her life in Paris during the German occupation. Attached to Canadian and British forces, the first Americans to see ground combat in Europe witnessed disaster at Dieppe. So here we are with our ukuleles and guitars, if you can picture that, quite a riot. And we're singing all the way from Mississippi to Arkansas.

Until weI recall turning the bend and looking out, you could see in the flat land, in the valley, rows of buildings. And we thought, wow, here's a military camp because it looks just like our camp.

Wooden barracks. And this one had a tall fence around, barbed wire fence. And unlike our area, there were machine gun towers at certain intervals. And you could see somebody up there handling a gun.

But when we got closer and we turned into it, then we began to realize what was happening. The men who were manning the guns were Caucasian men. They were military people. At that time, the military was in charge, the Army. They had rifles with bayonets, and here we were with ukuleles, you know. We didn't bring our guns. And we were told to get off the cars, and thank God they didn't search us because if they had searched us, I think we would have resented that.

But then we trooped in into the camp, and there you could see men and women and children of Japanese ancestry. And we realized we were in a camp of some sort, a prison camp or something like that, because why else would they have these machine gun towers. It didn't take long to realize what had happened.

And then we realized that the people there had set aside one week's ration of food so that they could give us a party. They had an orchestra and all of that. We tried our best to be happy, but how can you be happy in those circumstances?

They had set aside several of their barracks so that we could spend the evening there, and the occupants would camp in with other families or in the mess hall. And we said, "No, we can't do that.

But then when we left there and went back to Mississippi, obviously the mood on the trucks were different. In my truck, for example, no one sang. In fact, there was no conversation. If you can imagine a truck full of GIs leaving an area like this and not a word said.

Not a word. Just quiet. Every man, eyes closed or looking out in the open, thinking, whatever it is, to himself. And I believe that what was running through the minds of most, if not all, was a question: would I have volunteered from that camp? Now that's a very important and profound question.