EVERETT — Lewis Combs traveled more than 3,000 miles from his home in Huntington, W.Va., so he could bring his daughter to the first national reunion of World War II kamikaze attack survivors.
His emotional journey to the place where he could talk openly about the horrors of war he’d seen, however, was much longer.
“He never really talked about it, until maybe the past five years,” said Judy Childers, who was born three days after her father came home from the war in October 1945.
“I didn’t talk about it,” Combs said. “Suppressed it, because it was so tough.
“It’s just something that you go through you never get over. We live a nightmare the rest of our lives,” he said.
Combs, 79, was a baker aboard the USS Aulick, a destroyer that saw heavy action in the fight for the Philippines and was hit by a Japanese suicide plane near Leyte Gulf in late 1944 that left more than 30 dead and more than 60 others injured.
This week, Combs and approximately 400 other veterans who served aboard ships attacked by kamikaze pilots have gathered at the Howard Johnson Plaza Hotel in Everett. The reunion, which is open to the public, continues through Wednesday. A banquet is scheduled for 7 p.m., and Capt. Daniel Squires, commanding officer of Naval Station Everett, will be keynote speaker.
Memories from the war are still vivid. Combs recalled how the destroyer Aulick was shelled by Japanese artillery in the days before the ship was struck by kamikazes.
“We were told we were to go in and draw fire” from the enemy’s 3-inch guns that were preventing the Americans from landing troops, he said. As rounds began to hit the ship, one ripped through the 5-inch gun where Combs was a hot shellman.
“It rolled right down to my feet and didn’t explode,” he said, adding that the gun captain quickly picked it up and threw it over the side. “My mother made a dud out of it; she was a prayin’ woman.”
Destroyers were arranged in a “picket station,” a line of defense and distraction that surrounded the larger ships in Leyte Gulf. And when the kamikaze pilots crashed into the ships on their suicide missions, Combs said his was the second or third to get hit.
Combs was still in the galley when the first plane struck. When he stepped out, he saw fire all over the port side. Combs ran to his gun at the rear of the destroyer. Another kamikaze was heading toward the ship and was knocked out of the sky by another gun on the Aulick as it flew past Combs’ position, just 50 feet away.
“He could have went right into our fantail, but he wanted to get up midship where he could hit the bridge or the brass, or sink it,” Combs said. “But I could see him just plain as anything.
“I can still see him yet today. He was smiling. Unbelievable.”
Art Napier, a Bremerton resident who enlisted at age 18 and served aboard the aircraft carrier USS Belleau Wood, said his ship’s crew had never heard of the suicide fliers before his ship was attacked by one in the Philippines.
“I watched him coming right in, and he had a grin from ear to ear,” Napier said. “He flew right over top of our gun and plowed right in.
“I didn’t think he was going to plow into us. Kamikazes? You had never heard of them up until then.”
The kamikaze strike and ensuing deck fire left 92 dead or missing.
“I never did think I’d see 21,” Napier said.
The Battle for Okinawa was even tougher, Combs added, and the fighting intensified as U.S. forces approached Japan. About 80 percent of the ships around Okinawa were hit, and it’s estimated that close to 5,000 sailors died in the attacks.
“Okinawa was the nightmare,” said Combs, who drove a laundry delivery truck before enlisting in the Navy at the age of 20.
“The whole time we were there, it was a nightmare,” he said. “I don’t care where you’ve been, how many times you’ve been hit. When you sleep it and eat it, it was a nightmare.
“It was the last of the war. We were all a basket case. Nerves,” Combs said. “We thought every day was the last day.”
Now 77, Napier and his fellow vets are willing to talk about their experiences, to shed light on the sacrifices many made but were largely overlooked as the war was ending and the nation was eager to return to normalcy. The emotional journey, though, has just begun for many.
“My kids have never heard me talk about the war. I didn’t want to talk about it. I just kept it buried,” Napier said, adding that the memories are too vivid and the pain too great.
“You never get over that, never,” he said. “Never.”
You can call Herald Writer Brian Kelly at 425-339-3422 or send e-mail to kelly@heraldnet.com.
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