When the Japanese attacked, the men on the Alcan soldiered on.
The Japanese Bomb Dutch Harbor
In spring 1942 seven regiments of the Corps of Engineers had headed into the wilderness of British Columbia, Yukon and Alaska, trailed by mountains of equipment and swarms of support troops. They came to build a land route to Alaska, so the United States could defend that remote outpost. In June the Japanese assaulted the Aleutians and changed the context of the project profoundly.
First, their commanders in Washington had rushed the soldiers to the road to address the possibility that the Japanese might threaten the Aleutians. The actual Japanese assault turned a worrisome possibility into terrifying reality. The commanders’ strategic response dramatically increased the soldiers’ isolation.
Probably most important to the soldier engineers on the ground, the high command stopped mail service. At first blush, that may not seem a big deal. But, however tenuously, mail connected the isolated, frightened soldiers of the Corps to the outside world that gave their efforts meaning. When it stopped, morale plummeted.
When Chaplain Carroll described the importance of mail to his 95th regiment, he described it for the other six regiments as well. “The men have a deep and abiding attachment for their homes.” He explained. “When the mail comes in, the soldiers would leave the most luscious repast on earth to get it. Some read the letters right away. Others carefully husband them, opening one a day to make them last as long as possible.”
Now, for several weeks in June, mail stopped, devastating the isolated soldiers.
And soldiers working on the road knew little of geography, strategy or the course of the war. News of Dutch Harbor and Kiska and Attu scared the hell out of them.
When news of the assault reached the First Battalion of the 340th Engineers, still in Skagway, it occurred to most of them that the Japanese might target them next. It even occurred to some of them that they might have to protect or even evacuate civilians. They had rifles, but no ammunition. A young lieutenant remembered that the ammo was being unloaded at the docks of Skagway, but he and several others couldn’t find where it was stored. Luckily the Japanese had no designs on Skagway.
In the 18th Regiment, working north of Whitehorse, frightened troops pictured the Japanese marching inland down the Yukon valleys and into the forests. The engineers had rifles, butt and muzzle protected by artic socks, wrapped in mattress covers. But they hadn’t unwrapped and fired the rifles in a very long time. Their training had been about road building, not combat, and they knew they couldn’t defend themselves.
Emerging, each morning, from a dank tent into cold rain, churned mud, splintered trees, and scattered equipment, each of them knew his job. They put their heads down and soldiered on.