This is a type 14 Nambu semi-automatic pistol.
It has wooden handle scales, a safety lock, and fixed sites.
It comes in a nifty leather case complete
with an extra magazine, some cleaning papers,
and this rod that is used to force the papers
into the barrel, I think.
It was most likely used by a Japanese officer
during World War II, and before I got it,
it belonged to my grandfather.
Joseph James Moser was born in Hague, North Dakota,
on June 1, 1912.
Hague is a small town, small--like less than 70 people
small with terribly cold winters.
You know how your parents used to say
they walked three miles in the snow to get to school?
Yeah, my grandpa actually did that when he was six.
He never finished school, as he puts it, because of music.
When he was 12, he traveled with a six-piece band.
Joe was an amazingly gifted piano player.
He never had lessons, and he couldn't read music,
but he could play.
He was a prodigy.
Joe even played with the military band
when he first enlisted in the United States Army.
He was assigned to Echo Company 383rd Infantry, 96 Division,
nicknamed the Deadeyes.
On April 1, 1945, they landed in Okinawa, Japan,
where he fought in the bloodiest battle of the Pacific War,
in what was known as the Typhoon of Steel.
Over 200,000 soldiers and civilians
died in that battle, a battle that lasted 82 days.
My grandfather never talked about any of this.
He mentioned his training in the United States
and going to Leyte, Philippines, but all he ever
told my mom was how hard war was and how many friends he lost.
In his journal, he only wrote a couple of sentences
about the war.
He said, "After the Leyte campaign, we went to Okinawa
and made the initial landing there.
After the fighting ended, I boarded the ship
on the 14th of August for the United States."
That space between sentences is huge, a giant hole, a mystery.
What happened over there?
What did he experience?
Any information regarding the campaign
and what happened, I had to research and find out
for myself, digging through different accounts
I found here and there.
The more I read, the more I was caught up,
overwhelmed with emotion for what my grandfather must
have seen and experienced.
I had no idea.
The thing is, I knew my grandpa as a funny, kind,
piano-playing man, who always had a toothpick in his mouth
and a dozen more in his shirt pocket.
He loved his family.
He was married to the love of his life for over 50 years.
He loved God, and he loved his country.
He loved learning and was often seen
with an encyclopedia in his hands.
He could fix anything and had an extensive array of tools
and gadgets in his garage.
Once, he was the technical military adviser for the 1955
Korean War film Target Zero.
He took his wife dancing frequently,
even after he retired from the Army in 1976.
In 1978, he moved back to North Dakota
to a town named Strasburg.
He often played piano for the residents of a nursing home
and after noticing the Strasburg Cemetery was poorly organized,
he spent years volunteering to match names to graves,
creating a map of the cemetery.
Grandpa passed away in 1997.
After my grandmother died in 2008,
I traveled to Strasburg with my mom
to help with the funeral and other arrangements.
While in their home, I found this adorable picture
of my grandparents.
I asked my mom about the gun my grandfather was holding.
She had no clue.
She didn't know he ever owned a gun.
But then she told me that if I found it,
she was sure my grandfather would want me to have it.
I spent the next two days looking
but couldn't find anything.
The day before we had to leave, I went upstairs to a room
where I had found other military related things.
I had looked in that room several times
figuring it was the most logical place the pistol would be.
I actually said out loud, "Grandpa, we're
leaving tomorrow.
If you want me to have this gun, I need you to help me find it."
As I stood there, I had the thought
to check a closet full of uniforms
I know I had checked several times already.
I was compelled to look one more time.
On the back of the closet was a row
of hooks and on one of those hooks, a leather strap
which was connected to a leather case.
Excited, I quickly grabbed the case and opened it.
I still don't know the story behind how my grandfather came
to possess this gun or why he kept it for almost 60 years.
I may never know, and it really doesn't matter.
I found a connection to him through it and the experience
of finding it.
I've gained a stronger relationship with him
as I learned more about his life, what he experienced,
and what was important to him.
He was always so sweet to me.
He made me laugh, made me feel good about myself.
He gave me his name and a sense of humor.
I am grateful to know him better,
for the chance to strengthen our relationship, even after he
had passed on.