I think of my grandmother’s stories about World War II as much as my grandfather’s account. She would tell me about first working at the munitions plant in Pocatello. Then she got a job at Chemawa Indian School in Salem, Oregon. The BIA had an initiative to train more women in the defense industry, and since my grandmother already had some experience, she made the transfer.
The Oregon History Project tells another version of that story:
“Women were included in the training programs to make up for the shortage of male laborers who had enlisted in the military. The BIA fully supported the integration of Native women into the American workforce and armed forces, in large part because it reinforced a policy of cultural assimilation. Because both federal and local governments were still supporting various forms of segregation, the inclusion of Indians in the army and war industries presented an interesting question: Should Native Americans be classified as “colored” or “white”? Indians resisted segregation, and for the most part the federal government relented, allowing Native American men and women to serve and work without being subject to racial exclusion practices, as African Americans were. After the war, many Native American women returned to reservations and used their skills to seek new work and leadership opportunities.”
A national version of this story is in the 1945 publication, Indians in the War. (A Navy history site has posted the magazine online.)
“The Indian people at home have matched the record of their fighting men. More than forty thousand left the reservations during each of the war years to take jobs in ordnance depots, in aircraft factories, on the railroads, and in other war industries.”
My grandmother, Irene Clark Trahant, Assiniboine, from Frazer, Montana, talked more to me about the challenges of being in Salem with three boys and no car. Lots of juggling. Imagine those bus rides!
My grandfather, Marvin or “Miggs,” Trahant was in the Pacific. He kept a journal of some kind most his life and that included the war years. It wasn’t very detailed, more matter of fact. (His later journals about Fort Hall roads were even more so. A whole line could be, “snow plows out at dawn.”) Marvin was a member of the Shoshone-Bannock Tribes and worked at the BIA’s roads department for most of his career.
Marvin Trahant
Still there is so much there. I wish I could have asked both of them more questions about their experiences.
This year I am focusing on the journal entries at end of the war, starting in August 1945.
From the US Navy: USS Foote put to sea 19 December 1944 to guard a convoy to Mindoro, which was attacked several times by suicide planes. The destroyer splashed at least one of these, as well as rescuing survivors from two LSTs which were hit. Returning to Leyte 24 December, she prepared for the Lingayen invasion, for which she sailed screening amphibious forces 4 January 1945. Before the landings of 9 January, she fired in several enemy air attacks, and bombarded the beaches. After a fast voyage to Leyte to escort a resupply convoy, Foote took up screening and patrol duty in Lingayen Gulf until returning to Leyte 31 March.
USS Foote, one of four “little beavers” destroyers.
Marvin Trahant’s diary
August 1, 2nd and 3rd.
On patrol at Kerema Rhetto.
August 3th.
Back to Okinawa at how anchorage and anchored.
August 6th.
To R.P. 9 on patrol with two other tin cans. A couple of GQs. No trouble.
August 7th.
Same.
August 8th.
Ordered in, all Picket lines secured. Come into How Anch.
August 9th, 10th.
Clean and Paint Ship. About 1900 heard over radio Japan is ready to accept Peace terms. Every gun on beach is being fired. Tracers are crisscrossing the sky. Search lights shining all directions. Word from the S.O.P.A. The first ship that fires her guns, the C.O. will be held personally responsible. 2200 everything is quiet. Had one GQ during the celebration, Bogie was friendly.
August 11th.
To Buckners Bay. Anchored. The USS Pennsylvania hit by Torpedo late last night here in harbor.
August 12th.
At anchor. Paint and clean sides. Suicide plane dove into AP 24 at 1900. We saw and explosion and then fire right in the harbor. All ships ordered underway for the night outside harbor. Come in AM and anchored.
August 13th.
Anchor in Buckner bay.
The journal ends there. I assume he got orders to return shortly after that. The very last page of the journal, in one corner, simply says “left NY.”
From the US Navy: The destroyer had escort and training duty between Leyte, Manus, and Morotai through 13 May 1945, when she got underway from Leyte for picket duty off Okinawa. During the numerous enemy air attacks while she was on station, she was credited with knocking down at least one plane, and suffered two men wounded from the effect of a near miss on 24 May. She took part in the landings of 3 to 6 June at Iheya Shima, and those of 9 June at Aguni Shima, and patrolled off Okinawa until sailing 10 September for the east coast of the United States. Arriving at New York 17 October 1945, Foote was decommissioned 18 April 1946.
Marvin Trahant’s World War II diary.
Memorial Day 2025
Last year’s reading from my grandfather’s WW II diary. He served on a destroyer (the “tin can”) or the USS Foote.
July 8, 1944.
Caught the draft and left for San Pedro, Calif. Assigned to USS Foote (DD-511).
Oct. 24, 1944
Underway at 10:00 for parts unknown at this time. Think it’s Pearl Harbor.
Oct. 25-29, 1944
Liberty. “Very disappointed. Plenty of beer but not enough time to see the sights … Called back to ship at 17:00, emergency underway …
Nov. 21, 1944
Air attack on convoy on way to Leyte.
Nov. 26, 1944
Crossed equator at 13:00. All Polly Wogs were initiated into the ”Royal Order of the Deep” … what a day. My fannie is black and blue. We sure took a beating.
Dec. 21, 1944
At 07:00 two enemy dive bombers attacked the convoy. DD’s on the far side put up heavy flak. Radio warning to expect an attack. At 16:00 raids. Drago went into forward voids for something and passed out from the fumes. He looks bad. Drago died. Our first casualty. GQ at 16:00 two raids reported., 7 planes sighted at about bearing 300. Rodger said, “well men, it looks like this is it. Standby.” Seven planes pealed off for our section of the convoy. Four them came directly at us. All guns were firing as fast as possible, and that’s fast. … our machine gun crews stuck by their guns and the tracers followed both planes right to the water.
The Foote and another tin can was ordered to stand by and pick up survivors and the convoy proceeded at usual speed.
Just as we were getting up steam to catch up with the convoy we heard a cry for help and finally sighted a one man swing or rather floating with the tide toward us. The Old Man reported it and asked for orders. The reply was, “pick him up if you deem it advisable. Proceed if it will endanger your ship and crew.”
We picked him up. He was badly burned and told us he thought it was the end. We then proceeded to catch up with the convoy.
Jan. 9th. D-Day.
Just before dawn we slowly steamed forward 6 miles off the beach. Our biggest worry was mines. We closed in to about 9,000 yards with the New Mexico, the West Virginia and the Minneapolis firing over our heads to cover our approach. Air raid, ships splashed two planes. 5,000 yards off beach. 45 minutes to wait. Another air raid. No damage. Commenced firing at 09:00. Return fire from the beach. Just us and another Can in close. USS Jenkins hit by shore batteries … one killed and several wounded. 09:30 ceased fire. First wave of landing craft started in. Commenced fire and sprayed beach, 447, 509 & us. 10:00 five waves landed, opposition light. 10:05 LSTs and LCUPs going in . Laying in at 5,000 yards for call fire, gun placement located. Gun One scored direct hit. Knocking it out. 12:03 “K” rations.”wow.” 13:00 7,000 yards from beach. Heavies still loping shells to drive troops back into the hills. Lots of rifle & machine gun fire on the beach. Beach nothing but smoke and confusion. 13:15 , white flag raised over town of San Fabien. To date we expended 700 rounds of 5 inch.
USS Columbia hit … 130 casualties. The New Mexico and West Virginia have 600 casualties aboard. 18:00 two planes splashed over harbor. Fired on Black Widow. Under constant air attack. 01:00 Commenced fire, star shells over beach. To assist Army in taking air strip. Secured at 06:00. 06:30 air attack. 2 planes splashed 07:00 a 155 mm shell hit just off our stern. One troop transport sunk by midget sub and PT boats. Two others hit. 08:15 commenced bombardment on enemy troop concentrations, pill boxes and machine gun nests in foothills, expounded 800 rounds of 5 inch. Message from Army General on beach: “Your fire very effective ..” Out of ammo, taken out of fight, relief from USS Osborne. Message: “Well done Leap Frog, we hope we can do our job as well.”
George P. Lavatta: ‘I lost my boy in the war’
George P. Lavatta
Another Memorial Day story.
When I was a teenager I used to spend time with my great uncle, George P. Lavatta (technically, my grandfather’s cousin, but our families were close, and any time we traveled to Portland, his house was our first stop). George was born in 1894 and lived 97 years.
I recored an interview with him in 1992. I asked him why he left Washington, DC, where I asked why he moved to Portland. He had been in DC, Red Lake, Quinault, and had been an advisor to the chairman of the Pacific Union Railroad.
First he gave me the business answer. The BIA was setting up regional offices and John Collier wanted George Lavatta there. “I am a good soldier,” he told me. “I do what I am told.”
Then he choked up.
“It was about that time I lost my boy, you know, I lost my boy in the war. And my wife felt so bad and all, the doctor said do something. So she went into the war, she volunteered. So I was home, grieving for my boy.”
That’s when he decided he had better work in Portland.
I have seen pictures of his son, George Edward Lavatta in his uniform, and I know from his father that he was a lawyer (or at least was working on a law degree) and an officer, But I don’t yet know much about his death. Only the impact of how that death changed the life of his father’s family.