The Pittsburgh Press (March 10, 1945)
Roving Reporter
By Ernie Pyle
IN THE MARIANAS ISLANDS (delayed) – Over here the Marines have an expression all their own for the Japs. They call them “Japes,” which is a combination of “Jap” and “Ape.”
Now the fliers are taking it up, and there are various versions of it. I notice a lot of people unconsciously pronouncing Japan as “Jaypan,” just as in Africa we always used to say “A-rab” instead of “Arrab,” as we were taught in school.
Further they carry it into multi-syllables, such as saying “We’re going to Jay-pan-man-land tomorrow.”
Another slang word over here is “gear,” which apparently means a big shot. For example:
Every afternoon a soldier brings about 50 letters written by enlisted men, into our hut for the officers to censor. The officers in this hut have a rule of done the letters right now. and getting it over with. They take about six apiece, and they’ve all through in a few minutes.
The boy who brings the letters around is a Spaniard – Pvt. Gustavo Gonzalez of Galveston, Texas. He talks with an accent and is quite a character. The fliers enjoy kidding back and forth with him.
When Pvt. Gonzalez came back for the letters, they were all finished. Apparently, the other huts don’t do so well by him, and he has to wait. For as he left, he turned at the door and said to the officers: “You guys are all right. If I was a gear, I’d promote you all.”
Keep him supplied
One day while I was with the B-29 crews, Sgt. Fauad Smith pulled out a pack of cigarettes and said “How does that look?” He was pointing to the tax stamp on the package. It was the familiar orange-colored stamp of New Mexico.
“The folks keep insisting on sending me cigarettes,” he said. “I write and write and tell them we can get more than we want over here, but they don’t believe me.”
I’ve been amazed at the number of men flying these Tokyo missions in the B-29s who already have served one tour of combat duty in the European Theater.
Of the 10 men in our hut, two are combat veterans, even though they’re very young.
Veterans of Europe
Maj. William Clark of Bayhead, New Jersey, flew his 50 missions out of Africa in B-17s, and so did Capt. Walter Kelly of Philadelphia. In fact, Capt. Kelly and I were together at Biskra Airdrome on the edge of the Sahara Desert just two years ago this month.
They are both heady, wise pilots, who have learned the tropical ways of wearing shorts and spending half their time just lying on their cots. And they don’t seem to mind at all that they’re starting all over again on this side of the world after having done their share on the other side.
One of the things most needed for morale among fliers over here is the setting up of some kind of goal for them – the setting of a definite number of combat missions to be flown, whereupon they would automatically go back to a rest camp.
The way it is now, they are Just flying in the dark, so to speak. They’re just going on and on until fate overtakes them, with nothing else to shoot for.
Of course it’s probably too early yet, and the war on both sides of the world too desperate. to set up a final mission total whereupon a B-29 flier goes home for good.
They’re going to have to go to rest camps and then come back for more missions a couple of times before they finally go home. But no rest-camp goal has yet been set. They say it has to come from Washington, and Washington is slow about it.
It’s no good to create a rest camp out here. The boys would just as soon lie on their own cots as to go to a rest camp. What they want is a change, something far away – lights and girls and companionship and modern things and gaiety. And somebody better hurry!