Why These 2 American Soldiers Couldn’t Relate to Each Other After WW2: The Forgotten Divide

Eugene Sledge and Robert Leckie lived through experiences that many of us cannot even begin to

comprehend, and wrote acclaimed memoirs that give us a glimpse of what really went on in the Pacific

Theatre. In Europe, George Wilson fought from Normandy to Germany with F Company, 22nd Regiment,

making it out alive when so many of his comrades did not. His autobiography, If You Survive, is a

valuable document of the struggle and suffering in the European campaigns. There is no right way or

wrong way to process trauma — some opt to share their experiences; others try to forget them.

Sledge, Leckie, Wilson, and the millions of other Americans who returned to their homeland after

1945, would have had a great deal in common. All had made sacrifices, put their own lives at risk,

gained friends, lost friends, and served in the uniform of their country. But there would have

been differences too, real differences. World War Two was exactly that — a world war. While

George Wilson served in Europe, Sledge and Leckie would have been in action on

practically the opposite side of the world. Across this divide of thousands of miles,

the campaigns, the locations, the enemies, and the objectives that each faced would have been

barely recognisable. All of these men would have suffered immense trauma and experienced things

that shook them to the very core, but the nature of this trauma would have been very different.

In essence, there were two types of American Soldiers — those who fought in Europe and the

Mediterranean, and those who fought in the Pacific. Very few would experience fighting

in both theatres. This is why after 1945 — after Victory in Europe and Victory over

Japan — these two American Soldiers would have found it difficult to relate to one another.

It's not a case of 'who had it worse' or 'who suffered the most'; it's simply a divergence of

experience, a trauma divide that impacted an entire generation of young Americans.

This is our topic for today as we look at just how this trauma divide was formed,

and examine the terror of conflict through two very distinct lenses.

For these young American Soldiers, the idealism and naivety of youth would

be stripped from them in the most violent of ways, never to return.

On December 11th, 1941, at five minutes past three in the afternoon, eastern time,

President Franklin Roosevelt declared a state of war with the Axis powers in Europe.

Senator Tom Connally was at his side, watch in hand, recording the exact time of the declaration.

The Americans had entered the European Theatre.

Up until December 1941, the United States had maintained a policy of neutrality.

While nominally on the side of the Allies, the US had stopped short of actually joining

the conflict, and directly forbade its servicemen from operating in foreign militaries. There were

some exceptions — America had secretly supported Chinese air units in the southwest of the country,

providing men and material to defend China against a potential Japanese invasion from Burma, and the

Flying Tigers were already operating in this region even before a formal declaration of war.

Despite this, the USA's outward face was one of peace, of isolation.

This all changed on December 7th, when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. War

was declared immediately, and war on the Axis powers in Europe followed only four

days later. But these two declarations were very different. Japan had attacked the United States,