IT'S Memorial Day, a day the nation sets aside to honor its fallen warriors. Politicians give speeches, and flowers are laid on graves. For those who know the battlefield the best - the veterans of America's conflicts - it can be a time of deep reflection: of the bonds forged under fire and barely broken by death, of the mysterious vagaries of life. The Star-Bulletin asked three veterans -- men who fought in World War II, and the Korean and Vietnam wars -- who they thought about on this day. Those who shared their memories are all recipients of the Purple Heart, although none mentioned the fact unasked. If there is a common thread expressed in these interview excerpts, it could be this: We honor and recall the individual person, indeed. But we also pay tribute to the qualities they had, qualities we may hope to find within ourselves.

Stories by Alan T. Matsuoka
Star-Bulletin

This is him: Doi. Wallace Doi. He used to be a football player, UH. He was a squad leader. And this guy, he does everything gung-ho, you know. Everything he did. He was a big gambler in those days, because I remember him coming to borrow money, right? And he liked wahine. Man, he chased wahine all around. And a real tough guy. I admired this guy for being a good leader. I met him when we were in basic training in Mississippi. We go on passes, the same group. I remember the time we went from Mississippi to Vicksburg. At the time there was gas rationing, but he made the arrangement for us to get this taxi to go. You know, payola. Then when we came back, Vicksburg was off-limits to all 4-4-2 because they had fights with the haoles, they had this line-up going into the wahines' room, that kind of thing. I'm telling you, amazing.

One thing I remember about this guy is in Italy, after the first initial action. When you fight, you always try to get in front of the mountainside, or knolls. So this time we were back of the knoll early in the morning, so when we went across, the Germans were already dug in. Doi's squad was the first one to go over. When I come over that little hill, I see him sitting on his ass, now, with his Tommy-gun firing. Normally when these damn Germans are firing, you put your head down and you lie down. 'Cause he can't see the guy, he goes and gets up. I mean, a little bit different from what we would be doing, that's what I'm saying.

We had a patrol going to Pisa. Because I'm the platoon sergeant, I can either ask or assign them. But he volunteered. He loved action, that kind of person. I saw them pass, and all of a sudden I hear a burst of machine guns, then everything quiet. That's when they brought back Doi. He was wounded, shot in the leg. So then he's landed in the hospital. We got word that we're going to France, so we went to see him. He was supposed to be lying on his back because they amputated his foot, yeah? He got out of bed on his crutches when we were going to leave, and then we sang "Aloha Oe." That was sad. Everybody cried.

When I came back, I found out that Doi was in a hospital in Denver. So I hopped a ride on a plane. I find out this guy is so gasagasa - you know, he's so active - he had to have three skin grafts because it wouldn't take, he's kicking around and the damn thing won't heal. You can't keep him down on the bed, yeah? It's typical of this guy.

Then he went to Utah, got married and opened a restaurant. And then he died of heart failure a good 10 years or so ago. But I'm telling you, this guy, was no wishy-washy about him. Personality is what I'm saying. This guy was extraordinary. He chased wahine all over hell, and gamble like hell, fight like hell. That's what I'm saying. Something you've got to admire.

The Related Story:

In today's Star-Bulletin, read the stories of others who have served their country.