WWII Hero Turns 102

World War II Army veteran Alfon Larson doesn’t talk much anymore. But the Purple Heart recipient, who was wounded three times during the Battle of Okinawa, still has a sparkle in his eyes when communicating with his sons, daughter, and two grandchildren. Larson was surrounded by his loving family and a host of friends for a special party on his 102nd birthday, Sunday afternoon, September 20, at the Arlington in East Naples.

Larson is a true war hero who like many, didn’t talk much about his exploits on the battlefield. But he did open up to Naples artist and Air Force veteran Rick Wobbe when he was 98. Wobbe generously shared that interview with the Coastal Breeze News for the purpose of this story. Wobbe met Larson through his participation in the Collier-Lee Honor Flight program.

Larson’s sons, Pastor Chip Larson, Bill Larson and Terry Larson, and his daughter, Kim Larson, seemed to enjoy reminiscing about their father’s service to his country, even if he didn’t mention it much.

"Very, very little,” said Terry Larson, "which we know is fairly common. But when he has talked about it the hair stands up on our neck because, as we know, he was in ferocious battles in the Philippines and landing on Okinawa, which we all know was a horrid, horrid place. Needless to say, we're happy he survived. He was a brave fellow. He had to be. He's lived life bravely, going full steam ahead in life. I don't think dad ever had a slow day in his life. He was always active mentally, operating different businesses. He was a CPA and took over his father’s CPA firm. A good man and a good provider. Going into the Army as young as he did, that enables him to be here today and be a member of the Greatest Generation. Still alive. That's a gift.”

Larson celebrated his 18th birthday on board a troop carrier headed for the South Pacific.

"Okinawa was such a ferocious battle,” Pastor Chip Larson said. “General MacArthur realized from the enormous loss of life of our soldiers that the Japanese were going to absolutely fight to the bitter end.”

The United States suffered approximately 12,520 killed and 38,916 wounded on Okinawa.

Larson was assigned to the U.S. Army’s 96th Infantry Division, 381st Regiment, K Company, nicknamed the Deadeye Division because of its reputation for exceptional marksmanship. Ironically, Larson, who was assigned to a rifle regiment, said he had only shot nine rounds of ammunition when he saw his first action during the Battle of Leyte in the Philippines, where MacArthur fulfilled his famous promise to return to the Philippines. When talking about his war experience to Wobbe, Larson said he and many of his comrades had little to no combat experience going into the Battle of Leyte. “It wasn’t too bad,” he said of the action. “Those Japanese must have been plain old bad shots.”

The Battle of Leyte lasted from October 17 to December 26, 1944. Next up for Larson was Okinawa, the largest and bloodiest amphibious assault in the Pacific Theater of WWII.

Larson said the amphibious landing on Okinawa was expected to draw a lot of enemy fire. But he said that wasn’t the case. “We all just walked up onshore,” he said.

Larson said he and some of his comrades actually caught and cooked a pig on Okinawa.

“We brought the pig back to where we were hunkered down awaiting further orders,” he said. "At this point it was near day nine. We cooked that pig against all the rules of having a fire, but it was before nightfall. To this day I completely regret the fact that we skinned that darned pig. The best part of a cooked pig is the skin. That was the best pig I ever ate. The Japanese spotted or smelled our dinner fire position and all of a sudden the cook hole disintegrated by mortar fire. Lots of them.”

Larson earned his Purple Heart on June 19, 1945, when the Battle of Okinawa was still in its final, most intense phase. Larson was initially wounded by a bomb.

"You could hear it coming,” he said, "then when it was over you, it would explode downwards. They were real proud of that dang thing. I slipped back to my foxhole later that day and I looked and saw a big chunk of bomb fragment right where my chest would be. They just kept trying to kill me.”

Larson recounted his hardest day of the war to Wobbe.

“All hell had broken loose,” he said. "Orders came down; we were to take Nishibaru Ridge. Tombstone Ridge was a bit north, and Kakazu Ridge on our right flank were both still highly fortified by the enemy. Both ridges were raining down machine gun, rifle, and mortar fire on us. By about noon, we made it almost to the top but were immediately ejected and fled back down to cover near the ravine. K Company regulars were getting rather thin by now, but we were hellbent on our objective. My captain asked for two volunteers and I raised my hand. There were some wounded soldiers back up on the hill. Myself and another fellow went up. I located one of the wounded soldiers and simultaneously a hand grenade landed a few feet away from me. We both got down as flat as we could and it went off. On several other occasions, the enemy's grenades had landed near me but failed to explode. I was hoping to be so lucky once again. Well, not this time. It blew my helmet completely off, along with my glasses. I immediately felt the blood squirting and running down from my temple area. I grabbed the wounded guy and yelled, ‘Can you run?' He jumped up and we both hauled butt down under fire from the top of the hill. I got an MRI a couple years ago and the doctor said I still have some lead lodged in my head. I got my head patched up by a medic and was sent to the rear aid station. As I was moving towards the rear lines, northward, bordering a rice paddy, and at the base of one of either Cactus or Tombstone Ridge, a machine gunner popped up out of a spider hole (a small, concealed, one-person defensive position designed primarily for camouflage and concealment). He shot and killed a couple men, and I received three bullet wounds. These were in the elbow, back, and heel. I went down immediately. So now I was blown up and shot, but I played dead for several hours. At one point, I could see a cave nearby. Most of the caves on Okinawa were burial and memorial grounds where Okinawans would place the bones of their ancestors. I finally made a run for it. I didn’t have a weapon, so I did grab a carbine off a fellow that was expired in a kneeling position and made it into the cave. As I was hauling butt into the mouth of the burial site, I heard men talking. I thought, “Oh shucks, Japanese are in here; they will finally get me. But to my surprise, it was about 10 wounded GIs. The group decided to send one person at a time to the rear until they were rescued. We drew straws. The first guy went out. We waited and no response, second guy went, nothing. My turn. As I started my awkward trek, I saw a wall of smoke coming toward me. I thought it was our rescue, but soon I realized it was the entire 381st in retreat. Our position somewhat collapsed.”

Larson had sustained three separate combat wound incidents. He was flown to a hospital on Wake Island, a small coral atoll in the central Pacific, 2,000 miles west of Hawaii and 600 miles north of the Japanese-held Marshall Islands.

“I was then stretchered and flown to Hawaii for a couple days,” Larson said, "and eventually on to San Diego. I got a letter from mom. The War Department told her I had been wounded. In her letter she said, 'Thank God!' After that, I made it home.”