Project 888
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Name: Howard William MARTTILA Rank / Rating: PVT-Private Service #: 996795 DOB: 1925 From: Minneapolis, MN Parents: Went Aboard: May 14, 1945 Age When Ship Went Down: 20 Spouse: Children: Grandchildren: Bio Submitted By: Joan Marttila (Niece) |
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When my parents, Vernon and Lois Marttila were both deceased, I acquired a box containing letters my father sent to my mother during their courtship. Among the letters, I found several letters that United States Marine Corps Private Howard Marttila wrote to my parents after they had married and moved to Ames, Iowa.
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| Howard and his brother, Vernon, an Army Reservist attending veterinary school at Iowa State College in Ames, Iowa, wrote faithfully to each other. Their correspondence began in November, 1944 as Howard makes his way to Parris Island. His last letter to Vernon was written from USS Indianapolis and is dated July 21, 1945. Although the fate of USS Indianapolis was not often discussed during our childhood, my parents made sure that my two sisters and I knew its story. We knew that Howard was the youngest of four brothers and that their mother was widowed at an early age - leaving all of them to make a living on the family farm in South Dakota. We knew that Howard was enrolled as an engineering student at South Dakota State College. We did not know until much later that my father considered Howard the “smartest one” of the four boys. My sisters and I have read Howard’s letters. They describe his current location, what he is doing and what he is thinking. The letters reveal a bright, honest and humorous young man who has an easy-going but firm way with people. In his letters, he includes math problems, jokes and funny sayings. He requests a dictionary because his vocabulary is going downhill. He describes how many young women seem to be attracted to his "lpana smile" and, perhaps his sharp uniform. His correspondence from USS Indianapolis begins on May 17, 1945 and ends July 21, 1945. These excerpts allow Howard to speak for himself and provide a glimpse of the man who was lost at sea. May 17, 1945, "I got assigned Monday of this week but just haven’t had time to write I guess. I am on USS Indianapolis, a heavy cruiser type. I hoped for a cruiser as I thought it was the best duty and I guess I can’t gripe." May 29, 1945, "Did I tell you that I was the captain’s orderly? I accompany him around and keep people out from seeing him unless he wishes to see them. In fact, I’m writing this in his cabin. I carry a forty-five revolver and look important. Of course when I pick up my Pfc strip in another three years I’ll look better. It’s pretty fair duty except of course one has to be on the ball with his courtesy and English. Even have three telephones to answer if I’m left alone in the cabin. Otherwise I have one. I do more saluting in fifteen minutes than I used to do in two weeks. Of course when we get over to visit Tokyo I’ll probably be loading a 40 mm or a five inch. Even so life isn’t so bad. The guys here are an unusually good bunch of guys. We have a lot of fun over nothing. Our Pit Sgt is an exceptionally good guy. It is unusual that they put a new man on as captain’s orderly but I got it anyway. The other four guys thought it was a good joke." June 7, 1945. "This is the ship Roosevelt used alright as it is the flagship of the fleet. It was until she got hit and will be when we get out again. That suicide plane raised quite a little havoc. I believe that’s the word. It’s quite a ship but I’ll take my civvys any day." June 25, 1945. "They blew taps last night and it was the first time I had heard them for a couple of months. They sound pretty nice to me. Yesterday I listened to the radio all afternoon. It sounded pretty nice to listen to music for a change. Haven’t heard a radio very much since I got Pvt put in front of my name." July 3, 1945. "Can’t give you the word on what I do because they’d have to strike it out anyway. There is still a war on you know in the Pacific. I think Mom could help you out there a bit, I believe. If I told you what I do I’d give you the word on guns and I can’t do that. One of the guys just sat down by the G.I. can to read his mail so he could throw it away when he finished. You see anything can happen in this outfit." HERE IS THE ENTIRE LAST LETTER...July 21, 1945 "Dear Doc: I suppose you have most of your work pretty well in hand so I’ll write you a letter to give you something to do. I suppose your having some of that so called Iowa corn weather and sweating it out. I do a little sweating myself these days here too. The sun on the water looks nice but it surely is warm. The water is pretty nice to look at I’ll admit but it all looks the same. As far as just looking goes one would think he was in the same place all the time. I’ve seen where the war started and I suppose I’ll be around to see where it ends, too. We had captains inspection today so everybody and everything is pretty neat. Navy captain I mean which is equal in rank to a colonel in the Marine Corps. I guess the war news is pretty good isn’t it. We get our news in a brief matter. The highlights are printed on a couple sheets of paper. We have no society column or a comic section. Just baseball scores and the top news. Saves time really. I cut all my hair off so that it’s about a half inch long. It doesn’t look so becoming but it’s easy to keep clean and never gets messed up. I picked up a little sun burn on my back and front too. The sun here can do as much in twenty minutes as it did at home in two days. One doesn’t notice it until a while afterwards and then it’s too late. I’ve been sleeping out on the steel deck as it’s too hot down below. I should straighten out if a hard straight sack does any good. A blanket isn’t much of a cushion you know. I was raised on dry land but I never did get sea sick as my constitution must not be too bad. I always did write more and more of less and less but now I have an excuse. There isn’t anything to write here anyway. I must be getting geometrically minded as I’ve been going at an angle up the page. It looks like a hypotenuse for one of these corners. I’d like to sink my teeth in a bit of mathematics once again. Take it easy, Doc, and give my regards to the Mrs." August, 1945 The final correspondence is a Western Union telegram sent by my father’s aunt and received by my parents in Ames, Iowa on August 13, 1945. It reads: HOWARD REPORTED MISSING IN ACTION. Peace to his memory. | |
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