Ex-POW was tough, but for a good reason

Epilogue Wallace Marston Sr.
Ex-POW was tough, but for a good reason

Published Wednesday, April 23, 2008 8:03 PM


DUNEDIN — Wallace Marston was friendly, unless you stepped on his toes.

He fished and hunted and stayed to himself. He taught his kids to box. His son knew how to shoot a Winchester rifle by the age of 3.

"He was real wiry, and he could kick the hell out of an elephant," said his son, Wallace Marston Jr. "Nobody messed with him."

Mr. Marston died Monday after a battle with Alzheimer's disease. He was 84.

He never backed down from a fight in his life, probably because he spent years surviving one.

• • •

At 16, Mr. Marston was underweight. He ate 5 pounds of bananas to bulk up.

He wanted to join the military. The service was something lasting and permanent in his eyes. He grew up in Dunedin but had moved out of his parents' house at age 12 amid family fighting, his son said.

Mr. Marston's father signed the papers. The teenager became a soldier.

In 1941, his battalion went to Manila, Philippines. Mr. Marston was stationed at Clark Field. One day, he passed the time shooting craps underneath his tank. Bombs started dropping, exploding a mess hall full of soldiers.

"They didn't know it was the beginning of the war," said his son.

Mr. Marston survived the attack, but he wasn't free. In the Bataan Death March, he and about 100,000 other prisoners taken by Japanese forces walked for days without food or water. Later, they were crammed into railroad cars and boats, bound for camps.

He lived in captivity for 3 1/2 years. In 1943, he was shipped to the Hirohata POW camp in Japan, where he hauled coal and iron, and cleaned furnaces.

He ate one bowl of rice and a cup of soup each day, he told his son. He had one canteen of water for both bathing and drinking. He was forced to hit and slap other inmates, he said.

On Aug. 23, 1945, U.S. planes began buzzing overhead outside the camp. Mr. Marston was the first to run to the door to get a glimpse. Guards stabbed him with bamboo spears.

The scars stayed for life.

• • •

In 1945, he found himself on another boat. But this one was bound for San Francisco.

He had been rescued.

The boat sailed through the night. Early in the morning, the soldiers saw city lights. On shore, hundreds of people stood ready to welcome and cheer them.

As Mr. Marston passed under the Golden Gate Bridge, he decided he was going to make it.

Stephanie Hayes can be reached at shayes@sptimes.com
or (727) 893-8857.
http://www.tampabay.com/news/obituaries/article470392.ece

There is so much we don't know about these veterans and we are running out of them. Let's try to not forget them.