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A review by socraticgadfly
Code Talker: The First and Only Memoir By One of the Original Navajo Code Talkers of WWII by Chester Nez, Judith Schiess Avila
emotional
informative
lighthearted
reflective
fast-paced
4.5
hester Nez was one of the "original 29" Code Talkers. For people who may not know the basics, the Marines used Navajos to do coded transmissions during WWII. (Comanches and others had been used during WWII, but the Japanese knew that.) Within that, the Navajos disguised some of the military items they were talking about in Navajo, and also used Navajo words to substitute for individual letters when some items needed to be addressed alphabetically. The end of the book has the full code.
The irony — and why this is a MEMOIR of Nez's life, not just a battlefield story — is that Nez, like many other Navajos, and many American Indians of his day and age and further back, was at boarding schools that still generally had a "kill the Indian" mentality. Part of this was an "English only" policy at boarding school, complete with the actual "having your mouth washed out with soap" as though American Indian language was one big four-letter word. His second boarding school has this irony in further detail, in that two of his matrons there were of at least partially American Indian heritage themselves, a half-Laguna and a full-blooded Pima.
Eventually, Philip Johnston, the son of a missionary couple who had served on the Big Rez, sold the Marine Corps on it. In early 1942, they started recruiting, and Nez and a select group, which included a few friends of his, became part of the original group of Code Talkers.
From there, Nez details his Marine service from basic training through the several significant battles he served in: Guadalcanal, Bougainville, Guam, Peleliu. He got his "points" and rotated home just before Iwo Jima.
The last part of the book is about his post-war life, which included a call-up, without action, during Korea. Because the Code Talker work was classified until 1968, Nez and his fellows couldn't talk to the outside world. Nor to their fellow Navajos, even, though he did share bits and pieces with his sister.
This surely intensified the PTSD he had. He addressed this at one "sing" just a couple of years after the end of the war. He went to another, decades later, and this in Chinle, not his home, because his sister talked about how much "magic" it had.
==
For me, growing up in Gallup, New Mexico, this book was reflective. I've never been in/at Chi Chil Tah, the more correct spelling today. But, as a kid, I traveled down what was then NM 32 from Gallup to Zuni many a time. Several time, with my dad, it wasn't going all the way to Zuni, but turning east at Vanderwagen to take back roads to the McGaffey area in the national forest. (That's approximately where you turn west to go to Chi Chil Tah.) The "Checkerboard," junipers and piñons, all wring true.
Nez is straightforward and honest, including about things like the sheep cull John Collier did during the Great Depression. He admits that many Navajos had badly overgrazed the land. He just notes that it seemed to be enforced unevenly, and wonders why the hides, wool and meat weren't put to use.
The reason(s) this isn't a full 5-star is that, given his background, I can't buy into the degree of American exceptionalism that quietly runs through parts of this book. On the other hand, that's Chester Nez's story. And, yes, per what I note above, to the degree he was open to telling it, I think Judith Schiess Avila told it pretty well.
The irony — and why this is a MEMOIR of Nez's life, not just a battlefield story — is that Nez, like many other Navajos, and many American Indians of his day and age and further back, was at boarding schools that still generally had a "kill the Indian" mentality. Part of this was an "English only" policy at boarding school, complete with the actual "having your mouth washed out with soap" as though American Indian language was one big four-letter word. His second boarding school has this irony in further detail, in that two of his matrons there were of at least partially American Indian heritage themselves, a half-Laguna and a full-blooded Pima.
Eventually, Philip Johnston, the son of a missionary couple who had served on the Big Rez, sold the Marine Corps on it. In early 1942, they started recruiting, and Nez and a select group, which included a few friends of his, became part of the original group of Code Talkers.
From there, Nez details his Marine service from basic training through the several significant battles he served in: Guadalcanal, Bougainville, Guam, Peleliu. He got his "points" and rotated home just before Iwo Jima.
The last part of the book is about his post-war life, which included a call-up, without action, during Korea. Because the Code Talker work was classified until 1968, Nez and his fellows couldn't talk to the outside world. Nor to their fellow Navajos, even, though he did share bits and pieces with his sister.
This surely intensified the PTSD he had. He addressed this at one "sing" just a couple of years after the end of the war. He went to another, decades later, and this in Chinle, not his home, because his sister talked about how much "magic" it had.
==
For me, growing up in Gallup, New Mexico, this book was reflective. I've never been in/at Chi Chil Tah, the more correct spelling today. But, as a kid, I traveled down what was then NM 32 from Gallup to Zuni many a time. Several time, with my dad, it wasn't going all the way to Zuni, but turning east at Vanderwagen to take back roads to the McGaffey area in the national forest. (That's approximately where you turn west to go to Chi Chil Tah.) The "Checkerboard," junipers and piñons, all wring true.
Nez is straightforward and honest, including about things like the sheep cull John Collier did during the Great Depression. He admits that many Navajos had badly overgrazed the land. He just notes that it seemed to be enforced unevenly, and wonders why the hides, wool and meat weren't put to use.
The reason(s) this isn't a full 5-star is that, given his background, I can't buy into the degree of American exceptionalism that quietly runs through parts of this book. On the other hand, that's Chester Nez's story. And, yes, per what I note above, to the degree he was open to telling it, I think Judith Schiess Avila told it pretty well.