August , 1945

My Dear Mrs. Niader,

Since the battle has ended and Okinawa Shima has been secured, this is the first opportunity I have had as Commanding Officer, Headquarters and Service Company, Seventh Marines to communicate with you as I wished concerning your son's death. I am aware that nothing I might say can cushion the loss to you of this brave man, but I felt the wish and duty of assuring you that you are not entirely alone in feeling the loss of Private William V. Niader.

During the time William Niader was among us, he earned and enjoyed the respect and friendship of his fellow Marines; and while he was deservedly popular with the men, I am happy to be able as his Commanding Officer to tell you that his abilities made him noticeable to his commanders as well. It is impossible even under the hurried conditions of combat, not to notice such characteristic behavior and recognize with pleasure the credit it reflects on a man's upbringing and environment as well as on himself. I feel that it is a kind of unspoken tribute which a man's character pays to the loved ones at home who have done so much towards moulding it.

It is typical of William Niader that he met his death, which was mercifully quick and painless, in the manner which he did. He was helping others, and in the end, (performing) the most dangerous and necessary as well as humane tasks that a man can undertake in combat. He was a member of a stretcher team moving through the town of Itoman on the southern end of the island at about five o'clock in the evening on the twelfth of June when an enemy artillery shell exploded near him. A Navy medical corpsman was present but William was beyond help.

Three Sundays ago there was a solemn and beautiful ceremony at our First Marine Division Cemetery, which is located in a grove on a high hill overlooking Yontan Airport and the East China Sea. It is oddly peaceful and serene there, with the broad busy highways, the flourishing airfield, and the crowded harbors of American shipping below. General Stillwell, Commanding General of the Tenth Army, General del Valle, our own Commanding General, and our Division Chaplains spoke sincere words over the graves, each of them with its pure white cross, its cleanly painted name, and its American flag. But I thought the most inspiring words of all were those of the late Supreme Court Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, who was a soldier himself and wounded three times. His words are painted in a scroll on the white pergola, which has been built at the entrance to our Cemetery.

"At the grave of a hero we end, not with sorrow at the inevitable loss but with contagion of his courage and with a kind of desperate joy we go back to the fight…"

Sincerely Yours,

Maurice J. Cavanaugh, Jr.

Letter from Bill's best Marine Corps buddy, Pete Martin

Dear Mrs. Niader,

I don't know how or what to say in this letter. For the first time in my life, I am lost for words, but if you could look in my heart, no words would be necessary. I promised Bill I would write and he promised me to. We were good buddies, the best, you know that when we were separated I was lost. I searched the whole place, until I found him, then we were both happy. I didn't have any food to eat, and he wanted to give me all of his. That was just like him. He didn't want me to leave him, but I had to catch up with my Co. We both felt so good about seeing each other. We were like home to one another. My whole family liked him very much, and he liked them. We always had so much fun.

When they told me about what happened to him. I didn't care what happened to me. They wouldn't let me go see him. I can't go one about him, I'm crying, some Marine. I have seen so much of death, and misery. I can't find any more words. I'm just a dumb fool.

After we were secured I had a physical, and they sent me back to the States. I am being discharged because of my blood pressure. I was rejected once for it at Okinawa. They told me I should have never been sent overseas. A fine time to tell me, but I am glad I was there, but oh so, so sorry Bill couldn't be writing to you instead of me. Please write to me. When I come home we will have a good talk. You and I will have a great time between us. God Bless You.

All my love,
Pete

WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN
by Frank Niader

He had just turned nineteen and was in his prime
When his life was taken before its time.
There were so many things he wanted to be;
There was a great big world he wanted to see.
You are only young once, and it's time to have fun,
But the country's at war, and they give you a gun.
You love your country, so whatever will be,
Even if it means fighting on land or on sea.
He thinks of a wife who will hold him tight;
He thinks of children, asleep in the night.
He would go back to school and get his degree;
A man can be anything in this land of the free.
He could take lessons and learn how to fly,
To be like the birds, soaring high in the sky.
He could become a preacher, or write a poem,
Or become a carpenter and build you a home.
He could work with the sick and help make them well,
Or go into a business, whose products he'd sell.
He could become a musician and play in a band,
Or become a politician and help run this land.
He could become a teacher and help kids with their dream,
So everyone in this country will work as a team.
When his parents got old, in the twilight of life,
He would take care of them, with the help of his wife.
When he was in battle he did find time to write,
"Please don't worry about me as I go into the fight;
I love you all dearly, and will all the time."
But God had plans for this Marine in his prime.
He was my older brother and also my best friend;
Even with his death, those thoughts never end.
The years go by, and I think of him still;
He gave his life for his country, a Marine called Bill.
He died so young, and the world will never see;
What could have been will never be.