A cesspool of Judicial Corruption

TWENTY-SIX swisher's tall tales of his heroism

In a booklet, A Marine Remembers, Swisher explains why he was distinguished with so many coveted honors. His nauseating tale of heroism reads almost like a TV episode:

I believe in late Feb of 1955. I was transferred to Japan. I was assigned to George Company, Middle Camp Fuji, Japan. I received high proficiency ratings including a special incident which occurred in September or October of 1955. In Sept 1955, approximately 130 Marines were called together for a closed auditorium type meeting at Middle Camp Fuji, Japan. The criteria for selection was (1) we were all expert riflemen or sharpshooters, (2) we each had received advanced hand to hand and house to house combat training and (3) most were combat veterans.

We had been selected as volunteers for an important combat mission, but if any chose to leave, we should leave immediately (there were armed guards at every exit). My reasoning at this point, was it was probably some type of training exercise, and to leave would be impossible or appear cowardly.

My concerns did grow somewhat when we were segregated from all other military personnel. We were issued new weapons with expert riflemen being given a choice of weapons (something no one had ever heard of in the Corps). I striped the Browning of the tripod legs and other nonessentials and threw them away. No one even blinked.

Late one afternoon, we were all subjected to a continuing shot line. Everyone received five inoculations in each arm. At this point, we knew it was serious as we were headed for a different more contaminated environment. A few days later, at night fall, we were trucked to an airfield, boarded a troop transport aircraft (a C-something or other). About an hour later, while in transport, we were told the mission was aborted and we returned to our temporary quarters. Then about twenty four (24) hours later, we were once again airborne and this time did not abort. Several hours later we landed at an airstrip which some thought might be Formosa (Tai Wan). Other Marines thought we were near Seoul in Korea. We were immediately ordered to board Marine helicopters. I had previously been assigned as First (1st) Squad Leader, First (1st) Platoon. The helicopter had a pilot, co-pilot and limited room for transport. In our helicopter, I can't seem to remember if we were limited to six or eight Marine personnel. We were quickly airborne and remained in the air in excess of one and a half hours. There was low cloud cover and we flew dose to the ground.

We were put down and assembled on what appeared to be a rather large plateau with a prominent hill approximately 3,000 to 4,000 yards in a southerly direction. We came under no hostile fire at this time.

The highest ranking Marine with us was a Captain (the Bird Colonel didn't come). The Captain quickly informed us that we were the first Marine assault group via helicopters. Our mission was simple. We would move forward to the prominent hill where Third Platoon would take up a supportive position on the hill and hold two heavy (water jacketed) machine guns in reserve.

The remainder of the Company would move southerly beyond the hill to a small town, take it and set up and barricade for a siege. He said we would be creating an "incident". The Captain also commented that he anticipated minor, if any, resistance at the town. Once taken, Third (3rd) Platoon would join us.

Following this briefing (no question or answer permitted), we began our approach to the prominent hill. When we were approximately 150 yards from the hill, it came alive and we received heavy machine gun mortar and small arms fire. Cover was near impossible and I believe our officers were killed or gravely wounded within the first few minutes.

I noticed a small ditch parallel to the main hill about 20 yards in front and left of my squad. I ordered the First (1st) Squad to follow me and ran to the ditch cover. Our first sergeant was already there. I believe his name was Sergeant Lenin. I told him I would take what was left of my squad and try to flank the enemy hill position, corning up on them from the rear. He gave me the thumbs up and my squad and I began crawling as fast as we could down the small ditch. After approximately 200 yards, I observed a small depression that appeared to give some cover against an easterly flanking fire from the hill. We continued to crawl. Paralleling the enemies east flank, which I observed was a very steep side of the emplacements and probably had few (except spotters), if any, defenders thereon.

We finally reached the rear or southerly end of the hill From our position, we could see a town perhaps 5,000 to 6,000 yards in a southerly direction. There appeared to be no roads connecting the hill position with the town. The terrain, although a bit hilly, appeared to be open. We moved closer to the southerly hill. We could hear heavy machine gun and small arms fire continuing.

We located a rear gun position with a mortar and at least two dark green clad persons manning it. I rolled over to give directions to my squad and discovered we had shrunk to four. I motioned the others to follow me and crawled closer to the rear gun position. The other Squad members took positions to my left and right. When I reached a position directly under the gun position and within 20 yards, I rolled over on my back, took a Mark IV hand grenade, removed the pin, let the handle flip off, counted to three and heaved it uphill. It exploded in the gun position.

Then, with the wind mostly to our backs, I threw as far as I could, a smoke grenade. The four of us moved up the hill and began shooting any target of opportunity. We would move a few yards, kneel and continue fire. Many of the enemy didn't see us, as mostly were offered side and back shots.

The enemy fire was mostly directed at our pinned down Company members. I felt the ground heave and the Marine on my right just below the brow of the hill and myself were thrown back by what I assume was a concussion grenade.

I noticed that things had gotten a whole lot quieter (due to ear damage) and my knees, right leg, right shoulder and face hurt like blazes. I got back on my knees and continued to fire. I could hardly hear the Browning and a four round burst felt like they were tearing my right shoulder off, but there were lots of targets to put down. I could see small puffs of smoke from the weapons of the enemy fired towards us. I fired at them first before moving on to other targets. Finally I could see, perhaps 100 yards ahead, one of the main frontal machine guns firing on what was left of our Company as tired, bloody, deaf and my vision was somewhat blurry, but I knelt down, cradled the Browning and went to work. With the help of the two Marines on my left, the remaining enemy positions went quiet. Four other enemy came over the brow of the hill moving from east to west. They were quickly downed by our group.

I looked around at the other members of my squad, we exchanged glances and moved forward perhaps another 50 yards. We could see Marines from below the hill headed our way. I sat down in an enemy position and checked my ammo. I had two empty magazines left that somehow made it back in my belt pouch. I pulled the magazine from my BAR and found three rounds left. During the action, I had fired 137 rounds of 30/06 at enemy targets of opportunity.

One of the first Marines from below to reach me, saw me holding empty magazines, saluted and handed me a bandolier of 30/06 ammo. I reloaded the magazines, moved the port on the Browning to a new hole and lost consciousness.

I awoke some time later with a corpsman cleaning me up and saying something I couldn't make out (because I couldn't hear). He was the only corpsman to survive. I pointed him back down the ridge (southerly) where the Marine on my right had been hit. Another armed Marine went with him and that squad member miraculously survived.

I vacillated back and forth from conscious to unconscious. I was aware of a misty cold rain and sleet and someone, I think a Squad member, putting a poncho over me and then sitting close for warmth all night. I don’t know for sure when the choppers came back for us, but I know it was heavily overcast, raining and a low ceiling. I couldn't hear them at first and my ears were beginning to ring, but I spotted them coming in low. They landed as close as possible to the northerly extension of that damned hill.

Wounded and walking wounded were loaded as quickly as possible and then airborne. With some help, I carried my BAR in my left hand and got down to the choppers. As I was leaving the hill, I looked back towards the town we were supposed to have walked into and barricaded and saw what appeared to be a convoy of trucks of some kind far off but approaching the town from the west.

The enemy targets of opportunity appeared to be Chinese or Korean. I don't know which. Their weapons were unfamiliar at that time to me, but kind of resembled some SK's I've seen along with perhaps a version somewhat similar to the AK-47.

We were helicoptered back to the troop plane and eventually I counted 39 survivors including the one corpsman. I never found out what happened to the bodies of the other 89 Marines and two (2) Navy personnel. We were flown back to Japan and our wounded ended up at Third (3rd) Battalion Medical Center, Third Marines.

My right shoulder was bound, my right leg was placed in a cast and shrapnel was removed from various parts of my body. When I began to hear a little better, I learned I had sustained, among other things, a concussion, broken nose, broken foot, broken teeth, collar bone separation, cracked ribs and grenade fragments in both arms, both legs and torso....

After a few days in Third (3rd) Battalion Medical, a Captain none of us knew came in and talked with us. He presented the wounded, myself included, with Purple Hearts. He then told us that because of the participation in combat, all the survivors were entitled to and should wear the National Defense Medal, Korean War Service Medal and the Korean War U.N. Service Medal and Ribbons. He said each of us would receive Navy Commendation Ribbons with a Bronze V and the four of us who outflanked the enemy would be recommended for much higher awards. Later, upon leaving the hospital in mid-October, I received a Navy Commendation Medal and Ribbon with Bronze V and a Silver Star medal.

The Captain also cautioned us about talking about the "incident" to anyone at any time stating that "anyone who talks will wind up in federal prison". He also told us that upon receiving awards, we should not discuss them with any one until given permission to do so. "Wearing them later on is okay, just don't talk about them for now". I inquired as to exactly where we had been and what happened to the others and he left abruptly without answering.

On October 26, 1955, I was readmitted to Third (3rd) Battalion Medical Center to do something about my broken and missing teeth. A few day later, on October 29, 1955, 1 was offered a position in the Marine Corps Honor Guard in Tokyo, Japan with continuing service in Naples and Paris, France. Because of continuing physical problems, I turned the Honor Guard position down in November of 1955.

On December 21, 1955, I was recommended for meritorious promotion to Sergeant. On that same date, I was on my way to the Naval Hospital in Yokosuka, Japan for continuing work on my busted nose, ear drums, etc.

Swisher had, in fact, received a "meritorious demotion." He was court-martialed and busted back from the rank of corporal to PFC. Swisher tell the story of his "daring service," that he was recognized with honors from his Country so that everyone could know how courageous and unflinching he had been under fire. Mr. Swisher then shares with us the other episodes of his "remarkable courage and talents." In his Booklet, he continues:
On January 2, 1956, I was back from the hospital and at Camp Fuji, Japan. On January 4, 1956, a situation occurred in the grenade pits near Gotemba, Japan. Several of us were picked as grenade instructors for new arrivals at Middle Camp, Fuji. If memory serves me correctly, there were eight pits or bunkers . . . with earth piled around them (front and sides) for protection from shrapnel. We were using the newly initiated smooth sedated grenades (I think M-26s, not the Mark IVs). Each of the smooth lemons had dozens of serrations about 22 caliber size on the grenade body. . . I had instructed about 15 Marines in the procedure [how to throw a grenade], and they had successfully thrown [them] when another Marine entered my pit. I handed him a grenade; and then all down the line, with the other instructors, [I] gave the order to "pull pin, prepare to throw and throw grenade."

The young Marine threw the grenade too low. . . . The grenade bounced back between us and between the observation post (the Captain and runner were standing outside their [protected area]). I quickly ran to the grenade, picked it up, made several steps back toward the pits and threw it in front of our pit. It barely cleared. I pulled the young Marine down and fell on top of him as the grenade exploded.

I lost consciousness and when I woke, I was bleeding from my nose, ears and mouth. I could hardly hear; and my neck, shoulders, back and right leg hurt considerably. Several grenade pieces were removed from my back and legs. My right shoulder separated again and was taped into position, and my right foot and ankle to knee was placed in a cast.

The Captain in charge of the pits told me I would receive the Navy Marine Corps medal for bravery. I received the award several weeks later, just before going to Iwo Jima.

During World War II at the American invasion of Iwo Jima, the United States suffered 24,000 casualties and killed 21,000 Japanese. It took 74 days of continual shelling from our American armada to soften up the Island. Only 1000 Japanese survived. It was the most bloody campaign of the entire War.

PFC Swisher explains how twelve years later he and others attacked the island. Now with no enemies on the Island (except for an imaginary mock Marine invasion), Swisher showed the kind of stuff of which he was made. He along with others in his squad under his command secured the Island against an aging cache of Saki booze. Could it be that he captured some booze before the Iwo Jima caper? Joe Swisher goes on with his tale:

On February 13, 1956, I was sitting in a six man tent on the island atoll of Iwo Jima. A special detachment of Marines, myself included, were sent to Iwo Jima to deactivate explosive devises and clear the island so it could be used for future training purposes.

I recall on one occasion, we had discovered a spider hole (hole in the ground with a cover). It was my turn to go in first, and I dropped down about six feet into the hole which was connected to a tunnel. Before moving, I felt around with my hands a bit and discovered I was straddling a trip wire. The trip wire was attached to a still active explosive charge. Luckily for me, I dropped into the hole like the Japanese occupants before. After disarming the explosive device, I crawled through the tunnel and entered a large room which contained a number of bottles of well preserved Saki. Needless to say, my Squad and I spend considerable time making sure those quarters were secure and the Saki disposed of.

Following several weeks of work, the island was deemed safe enough for troops to utilize in training maneuvers. Our Marine group had been promised a week's leave in Tokyo, but at the last moment, we were ordered to defend the island against a mock Marine invasion. Our officer in charge, a Captain, picked me to do a night "recon" of the beaches prior to the mock invasion. I choose a couple other Marines to join me in this task.

At approximately 3:00 a.m., we noticed dim figures on Green Beach near the base of Mount Suribachi. Much to our amusement, we caught two Navy frogmen who were recording the surf for the anticipated landing. We took them to main camp and after some time were told to discontinue all night patrols because our capture of the frogmen had delayed the invasion by at least 48 hours which would cost the Navy several hundred thousands of dollars in additional ship expenditures. l recall this was not particularly humorous to the Marines in my Squad.

During this mock invasion, an umpire Marine, a Lieutenant with a white armband, would jump up on a sand dune and cry out over a loud speaker for the defending force (my Squad) to fall back because we had supposedly been overwhelmed by their fire power. Understand, we were lugging machine guns with blank adapters and hundreds of rounds of blank ammo, and in falling back [we] were running uphill. Eventually we drew short leaves [went on pass].
Now that the "mock invasion" had concluded, Swisher was homebound.
On June 29, 1956, I arrived at "I" Company, Third (3rd) Battalion, Fifth Marines, First Marine Division, Pendleton [California]. While there I was instructed to wear a Presidential Unit Citation. I never saw any certification for this Citation but, as ordered, wore it anyway.
Here's a historical note of interest: In 1968, well before Swisher wrote this narrative, Richard Hooker wrote a novel about three army doctors. A feature film of the story, produced in 1970, was a sensation. The series premiered on September 17, 1972, and ended February 28, 1983, with the finale becoming the most-watched television episode in U.S. television history. Major Morgan was one of the main characters.

Now back to Swisher story:

In May or June of 1957, something occurred . . . I was walking by our guard officers' quarters . . . when I overheard the Lieutenant loading his 45 auto and speaking with the Sergeant of the Guard. The Lieutenant stated that he was going to "shoot that son of a bitch on the roof." I walked into the Navy corpsmen quarters, across from the guard officers' quarters, and learned there was a highly disturbed Marine private armed with a bayonet and loaded M-1 rifle on the roof of our guard quarters, threatening to kill anyone who came close to him.

The Navy corpsman was talking to Major Morgan and bringing him up to date on the situation. I heard the corpsman say, "Swisher just walked in sir," and then he handed the phone to me. [It's amazing how this 18 (or 19) year old recently court-martialed Marine PFC would have such clout with the officers in command.]

Major Morgan quickly asked for an update, and I relayed the action taking place with the guard officer and Sergeant of the Guard. Major Morgan swore and said we didn't need any stateside incidents or deaths. He then asked if I thought I could get the young Marine off the roof without bloodshed. I told him I would be willing to try.

He then had the corpsman run out, stop the guard officer from going outside to shoot the roof top Marine and escort him back where I handed him the phone and Major Morgan. Following a brief conversation with the "Old Man," the Lieutenant turned to me and said, "Do what you can." He then offered me his handgun, which I refused.

Roof top access of the three (3) story brick building with a concrete poured foundation was restricted to an outside steel emplaced ladder. I began the long climb to the roof. When I was within five or six feet of the roof, the Marine on top leaned out a bit and stuck the M-1 in my face. He looked at me and I looked back. He finally broke the silence by asking,

"Are you for me or against me?"

I told him, "Hell, I'm with you! Now take that damned M-1 out of my face."

Fortunately, he did. The next hour or so involved a lot of talk and finally, I was able to distract the young Marine long enough to unload the weapon. I was able to convince him he would be safe with the Navy and managed to get him down the ladder and into the corpsman quarters. I believe we talked him into taking a shot (tranquilizer) and then I accompanied him to the psychiatric unit at the Bremerton Naval Hospital.

Major Morgan commended me and said I would receive a Marine Corps medal (this was the second such honor I received in the Marine Corps). I also received a recommendation to Officers Candidacy School (OCS) at the college of my choice. After receiving and taking the entrance exams, I failed to pass my physical. Seems like the old injuries to my right shoulder at the time had resurfaced in the formation of a tumor.

Many things are coming back to me now, [indeed they are] and the closed door of 45 years ago is reopening. Recently, I've become acquainted with several combat Veterans of the Vietnam era [Such as Joe Volk and Mike Clausen]. The association with those who have been there and know is helping this old, tired, crippled jarhead.

Swisher's humility and veiled past glory must have been hard to keep secret from his wife and family for so many years. Necessity, of course, forced him to come forward to reveal what a true hero he is.

However, this greedy fraud isn't the only villain to slither into David's life.