Joseph Miller
Joseph Miller
BY: James M. Stewart

THE Navajo

WITH increasing frequency as the war progresses, one hears the question, "What are the Indians doing to help win the war?" The question is asked sometimes by friends of the Indian, sometimes by critics, but very often ten by the many uninformed citizens who wish to become informed. In many cases these people have read, or have been told (1) that the Indians are not doing much of anything, that they are disgruntled because they have been badly treated in the past, or because foreign propagandists have stirred racial antagonisms, or (2) they have heard that the Indians are, despite old grievances and foreign propaganda, doing a great deal to help their country win its biggest war.

In the Navajo country these questions arise very often indeed, so often in fact that it seems worth while, in the public interest, to answer them rather fully. The accompanying facts were collected to accomplish this purpose.

A Navajo boy, eager to join the Marine Corps, hitch-hiked 60 miles, walked 34 miles in the pouring rain, obtained the consent of his parents, and then walked and hitch-hiked back to the recruiting station. Sidney Bedoni, in common with other Navajos, thinks such an incident is not remarkable in any way but merely a part of the job of winning the war.

Similarly, boys and girls of fourteen and older are throwing themselves into "preparedness courses" to which the Navajo schools devote every fourth week. In the same spirit, men of all ages travel to far away places to perform strange new tasks in the interests of war production. Men and women buy War Bonds, contribute heavily to war relief funds, collect unbelievable amounts of scrap, give their sons willingly to the armed services, and accept without complaint all the sacrifices that war has brought them. With all this and much more to their credit, they continue to interrogate Indian Service officials about other ways that they can help to win the war.

To the Navajos, winning of the war is the

INDIAN AT WAR

First and most important business of life. Men, women and children of all degrees of education, of every economic level and in all parts of the 16,000,000 acre reservation in New Mexico, Arizona and Utah, manifest the same attitude.

Fourteen hundred Navajo men and boys. as of early December, 1942, had joined the Army, Navy and Marine Corps, 350 of them as volunteers. Many more, rejected for physical defects and for inability to read and speak English, are striving to make themselves fit for future service. Serving with merit, and very often with distinction, in camps throughout the country and in all the foreign theaters of war, the Navajos, like other Indians, are natural-born soldiers. Many have become non-commissioned officers, and many others have been selected for duty requiring special talents. Adolph Dodge Bitanny, full blooded Navajo, is a lieutenant in the Army Air Corps, stationed at Fort Smith, Arkansas. Lt. Bitanny, a nephew of Henry Chee Dodge, 83-year-old Chairman of the Navajo Tribal Council, is a former Columbia University student and a former Indian Service employee.

The war spirit of the Navajo revealed itself long before the Japs struck at Pearl Harbor. It revealed itself in ways that left no doubt that the 50,000 people of this, the largest tribe in the United States, vigorously opposed the enemies of democracy. At the outset they declared their sympathy and faith in freedom. Early in June, 1940, the Navajo Tribal Council passed a resolution stating that "we and the 50,000 people we represent, stand ready as in 1918, to aid and defend our government and its institutions against all subversive and armed conflict and pledge our loyalty to the system which recognizes minority rights and a way of life that has placed us among the greatest people of our race."

In the construction of the Army Ordnance Depot at Fort Wingate, New Mexico, Navajos quickly distinguished themselves by their devotion to their duties, by their skill, and above all by their complete loyalty. More than 1500 were employed during the construction period, and of these a large percentage have been retained to assist in operation.

Named for the Indians, the Army's new depot at Bellemont, Arizona, is officially entitled

NAVAJO TRIBAL FLOUR MILL

the Navajo Ordnance Depot. Here, at the foot of the San Francisco peaks, sacred mountains of the Navajo, these Indians also performed much of the labor of construction and continue to be employed by the hundreds in packing the ammunition for shipment to battle areas. A complete recitation of the other important war work of the Navajos is impossible. There are too many jobs, too widely scattered, to permit itemization. It is known that a very large number are employed in strategic mines (including a vanadium mine producing substantial quantities of this strategic war metal on their own reservation); that many are performing vital work for the railroads, that others are in aviation and other war plants, and that some are employed in shipyards and in Naval installations on the West Coast.

Meanwhile, with almost all the competent men and boys either serving in the armed forces or performing civilian war work, the women and children are cheerfully doing all the work at home and are striving to increase, for war needs, the production of mutton and wool. On the home front the Navajos performed miracles in the collection of metal scrap. The total amount collected is reported by Agency officials to have been 600,000 pounds. In addition, hundreds of Indians turned in their scrap at trading posts and at towns far distant from the Reservation's Central Agency at Window Rock, Arizona. Scattered reports indicate that the total amount collected and disposed of in this manner was beyond the most optimistic expectations, probably far above the 600,000 pounds of record. Indians combed the countryside for bits of iron, searched the highways and ditches for junked cars, for wagon tires, old stoves, for everything in the line of metal that was not nailed down.

The rubber drive was equally successful. The Reservation total was 113,000 pounds, which is a very respectable amount when one realizes the comparatively few Navajos who own cars. Some Indians came in with as many as nine tires, gathered from no one knows where. As in the scrap metal drive and in all the other war drives, Navajo zeal was high. Red Cross quotas were oversbscribed. In 1942 the quota in the Red Cros War Fund drive was $2,000. The collections totaled $3,700, most of it from Indians. Individual contributions of Indians were much higher than those of non-Indians. The supply of membership buttons in the Roll Call drive was exhausted long before the campaign was concluded. Indians are extremely proud of their war contributions and insist on receiving buttons and badges to show that they are participating. Actually, the insistence was so great that the local Red Cross workers were compelled, after the supply of badges was exhausted, to issue certificates. The Indians would not return to their hogans until they had received proof that they had contributed.

From the beginning Navajos have been deeply interested and active in civilian defense. They manifested eagerness to serve as guards, messengers and fire wardens. Many are skill ed in the use of radio, many have learned to operate and maintain automotive equipment, and all of them are at home on horseback. In the comprehensive plan of disaster preparedness recently worked out for the entire reservation, the Indians, boys and girls, men and women, have shown intelligent interest.

The older men have begun to realize that this is not a war in which they can fight. They would still like to go overseas and some of them seem to have accepted the fact that this is a war for young men. So they do what they can. They would like nothing better than an opportunity to deal with, say, a detachment of Japanese parachute invaders.

At the first selective service registration, many Navajos appeared with guns, bedrolls, and food, ready to go to war. They wanted to start fighting immediately. They knew a great deal about Hitler, whom they call "mustachesmeller," and Mussolini "gourd chin" and they were eager to start shooting at the earliest possible moment. Their feeling has not abat-ed: It has, if anything, intensified.

At Wingate Indian Service Vocational school, a special class has been formed to prepare Navajo boys for military service. Boys of 18, or over, are instructed in military English, close order drill, in first aid, self-defense, in the development of agility, in rifle marksmanship, in automotive maintenance and driving, mili-tary courtesy and discipline, war geography and map reading.

To see these Navajo boys swarm over the high scaling wall is to sense the great physical prowess and the natural gifts of coordination which help to make them dangerous antagonists.

In the Navajo schools, boys and girls of fourteen and over, every fourth week, whole-heartedly attend a preparedness course which includes military physical fitness, first aid, rescue, care of the body, protection against con-taminated water, self-defense, and exercises in marching and the development of agility. There are also courses in mechanics, with a war slant, emergency auto repair, study of water pumps, gasoline engines, radio, the use and maintenance of telephones, the handling of ex-plosives and protection against gases. Reports indicate that the courses are immensely popu-lar. Even the younger Navajos view the war as a serious matter in which they are directly involved.

The U. S. Marine Corps has organized a special Navajo signal unit for combat communi-cation service. A platoon of thirty Navajos was recruited in the spring of 1942. Its mem-bers were trained in signal work using the Navajo language as a code, adapting a scheme tried with considerable success during World War I, when the enemy was completely baffl-ed by the employment of an Indian language in front line communication. The thirty Na-vajo Marines performed their duties so sucSuccessfully that the plan was expanded, a recruit-ing detail was sent back to the Navajo Reser-vation in the early autumn, and by early Dec-ember 67 new boys were enlisted. Two mem-bers of the original detachment went back as corporals to assist in explaining the work to eligible Indians. Corporals John A. Bennaly and John R. Manuelito have made good in the Marine Corps, a fact which almost anyone would guess at first sight. The boys look ex-tremely competent. They are neat, poised, keen-eyed and fit. In movement and in man-mer they give the impression that they un-derstand their business, the business of mak-ing trouble for the enemyNavajos are naturally good material for the hard-fighting Marine Corps. The rigors of combat hold no terrors for these boys, the hard duties and the severe discipline do not deter them. They know how to take it, and how to give it, too. Inherently casual and easy-going, the Nava-jos, like many other Indians, seem to the unin-formed observer, to have very few of the ex-acting characteristics required in modern, and especially in mechanized warfare. They do not always place a high value on time. Life moves with a certain rhythm, speed and precision do not always find a place in that rhythm, and there seems small reason to get excited over trifles. But in modern warfare precision is vitally important.

Major F. L. Shannon, of the Marine Re-cruiting Service, is well versed in the facts of military life and knows the requirements of the Marines particularly well. He also knows the Navajos well. He was formerly an In-dian Service school principal and has spent years living among, working with, and study-ing the Navajos. Major Shannon believed that Navajos could distinguish themselves in the Marine Corps, and that they could render especially valuable services in a Signal Corps unit that would enable them to use their language as a code. The Marine Corps made the experiment, and came back for more. Many Navajo boys served in the Phillipines. Members of a New Mexico National Guard unit, these boys were among the first to meet the enemy. The epic of their service cannot now be written but enough of their exploits is known to make a brilliant chapter in the long record of Indian heroism and Indian pa-triotism. Buddy Morgan, son of former Tribal Councilman J. C. Morgan, is a member of the brave contingent that fought to the end. He and others are believed to be prisoners.

Recently a group of young men and women, former students who had come back to the reservation after attending boarding schools elsewhere, met at Fort Defiance on the Nava-jo Reservation to form an organization which they hope will be permanent. An immediate objective of the association is to provide funds for the relief of the soldiers of Bataan. Dances, lectures, bazaars and other get-togethers are planned as part of the money-raising campaign. Tickets of admission will be War Stamps. Con-Cessions of various kinds will extract money from the customers for contributions to the war relief fund.

Seventy-three Indians attended the initial meeting at which the outlines of the organization were formed. Many of them are members of other tribes, but the majority are Navajos. All are intent on making the movement important, making it a useful part of the total Navajo war effort, helping to interpret the outside world to Indians who have slight contact with that world, helping to find new ways of harnessing the talents and the resources of the Navajos. The groups also will serve as a meeting point for old and young Indians, for those who have remained at home and those who have gone away. Jesse James, a Creek from Oklahoma, one of the founders and first president, believes there is a big job for hisgroup. The 73 original members agree with him. Eager for all war news, the large non-English-speaking proportion of the Navajos, besiege Indian Service officials, traders, missionaries and travellers for war information. By short wave radio from the Central Agency at Window Rock, a weekly news summary is broadcast every Saturday morning to the Indians in all sections of the 25,000-square-mile reservation, and to contiguous areas where Navajos live or work. Requested by many Navajos, a condensation of the important war news is the highlight of the weekly broadcast.In this and many other ways, Indians are keeping abreast of events. They follow every turn of the war, every significant detail of civilian and military activity. Thus does an informed democracy function even among the most remote citizens, separated by barriers of language, culture, tradition and race. Knowledge is important to the Indians in many ways. In all the drives, for bond sales, for metal and rubber scrap collection, for Red Cross funds, the Indians became quickly familiar with the needs, responded quickly and thoroughly, and even influenced white neighbors.