Ecuperating - Chapter 17

On his second crossing he was made captain of the “Sea Princess” by default. The regular captain had fallen overboard. Eric was the first mate. On that trip he saved the lives of a sinking crew from U-234, a German sub preying on shipping off Newfoundland.

Somehow Eric made friends with the captain of the sub and they formed an alliance whereby Eric’s ship would never be sunk, and he would transport passengers designated by Hans Gruber, the captain of the sub, back to the United States. They both became rich over the next four years. Hans and his family came over on Eric’s last voyage in August, 1944.

They both retired to Grand Marais, Michigan. Eric purchased 6000 acres of the Seney swamp the next year and they had a hunting lodge built. The swamp itself wasn’t worth much; only scrub timber at best. But in the middle of the 6000 acres was a 200 acre moraine. This is where Captain Eric built the lodge, using the existing timber on the ridge and a portable sawmill that he had dragged through the swamp himself.

Inaccessible except by water most of the year, the lodge was very private. One just couldn’t get there unless one knew which waterway ran along the ridge. Only since the mid 70’s, when snowmobiles became available, did the lodge experience any winter activity to speak of. And then there was just one route, very difficult to find.

It took Eric two years to build the lodge, but in the end he had the lodge and 14 bedrooms. Then he went recruiting. By then he had a road built connecting the lodge to the highway, M-77.

By the time of his death in December of 1988 Eric and his followers had gathered about themselves other heroes of that war and the next. Not only heroes of the wars were welcome, but anyone who had exhibited heroic tendencies. Reluctant to forget the sacrifice each had made for his country, they had kept the tales of their exploits alive in Lodge 16, where they and their families visited several times a year to renew the causes and the pride they had in themselves and the country.

Lodge 16 was a testimony of their bravery and reason for living.

Alongside Eric was the portrait of Sergeant Ted Sobieski, the “Ghost of Makin Island.” Early in 1942, Ted and other Marines landed with the Rangers on Makin Island. Few of them got off that island. Ted wasn’t one of them. His section was lost on landing and had landed on a beach far from where the plan had intended them to be. Losing their way in the rough seas on landing, his seven companions drowned trying to land. Ted survived. And he survived the next sixteen months on the island, for the Americans never landed and took over the island until November of 1943.

How Ted survived was his own uncorroborated story until 1956, when the Japanese released documentary evidence of having lost 426 men on Makin Island from July 1942 through November 1943. They believed it was by natives, who, it was rumored,

“Ate their captives after they killed them.”

Evidence was received and the pictures were shown of the carcasses of the unfortunate Japanese soldiers to the State Department that year. Ted was quietly given the Congressional Medal of Honor. No one wanted that story to get out.

And there was Colonel Robert “Lucky” Anderson.

There was a checkered career for you! Originally Lucky had joined the Navy in 1942 at the age of fifteen. He was a big man even then, and it was certainly easy to see that his claim to be 20 was believed by the recruiter in the small town of Munising where he went to join up.

He had served with Captain Jack Hammer during his fishing years, and had plenty of experience running small craft. Lucky was tapped for coxswain duty after training and made his first landing in the pacific at Iwo Jima.

He promptly lost his craft on the first assault and joined the Marines in the landing. Stealing the clothes and gear of a dead Marine captain on the beach, he led charge after charge up the beachhead. By the time anyone realized he wasn’t who he claimed, it was too late. He was already a hero to his men, and had received a battlefield commission to major, successfully leading mission after mission.

The embarrassed Marine Corps quickly made him one of their own, keeping him in the field until his true age became known. They retired him as a full colonel in 1944 at the tender age of 17.

There was Corporal Al Gotch. He lost a leg in Korea when he was heading up a rear guard action on the retreat from Punjom. He was a BAR man, and was captured along with his partner when their position was overrun. His partner didn’t make it, having died in prison.

He was credited with holding the enemy for over three hours while his company was retreating successfully. He received a Silver Star for the action. He saved at least 150 lives that day, and was credited with killing over 100 Chinese.

They took pretty good care of him and he spent the rest of the war as a prisoner. He was a small man, not over 5′ 5 and lucky if he tipped the scales at 120. His favorite saying these days when people asked him how he was doing was:

“Hell, I can’t kick!”, and then showed he had only one leg. General Paul Hannah was the dashing figure in his flight jacket. Credited with 23 German kills, he was an ace by the time he was 20 in 1943. Shot down over France in that year, he spent the rest of the war with the French resistance.

Paul was a natural when it came to languages, and became fluent in both French and German very quickly after being shot down. He was more valuable to the allies in France than he would have been in the air war, so they left him in France liaising with the resistance and planning sabotage missions against the Germans for a year and a half.

Paul became a demolitions expert, and by the time the war ended there was no one better in that field. He taught demolitions for the army until 1947 when he was discharged as a full colonel. He was called back in 1951 for the Korean conflict and bumped up to one star and put in charge of covert ops headquartered in Japan.