In this episode of the Shawn Ryan Show, Frank Wright—the last living original Marine Raider from World War II—shares his experiences fighting across the Pacific theater. Wright describes how he joined the Marines at sixteen using a falsified birth certificate and went on to serve with the 4th Marine Raider Battalion in New Georgia, Guadalcanal, Guam, and Iwo Jima, where he sustained severe injuries that nearly cost him his arm.
Beyond recounting specific battles and close-quarters combat, Wright discusses the cultural differences between American and Japanese forces, reflects on the meaning of liberation through his postwar return to Guam, and addresses the long-term consequences of medical mismanagement that continue to affect him decades later. The episode also covers Wright's perspective on Marine training and his advice for service members about advocating for their own health—a lesson drawn from his own difficult experiences with military medical care.

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After Pearl Harbor, sixteen-year-old Frank Wright was determined to join the Marine Corps. When initially rejected for being underage, he enlisted his aunt's help to obtain an uncertified birth certificate, which the recruiting sergeant accepted without verification. Wright even hid five pounds of bananas in his uniform during his physical examination to meet weight requirements—a creative workaround the sergeant never detected.
Though Wright aspired to become an aircraft mechanic based on his experience with model planes, he never received that assignment. Instead, his senior drill instructor A.H. Allen recognized Wright's physical combat skills and nominated him for the elite 4th Marine Raider Battalion, making him the fourth recruit chosen from their company.
The Marine Raider training was shaped by James Roosevelt, the president's son, who emphasized lethal effectiveness over taking prisoners. Wright recalls learning techniques like breaking an opponent's nose and thorax in quick succession for close combat survival. Although this aggressive training sometimes conflicted with his personal faith—particularly the commandment "thou shalt not kill"—Wright credits this preparation with keeping him alive through numerous dangerous encounters in the Pacific.
Wright served with the 4th Marine Raider Battalion and later the 21st Marines, fighting in New Georgia, Guadalcanal, Guam, and Iwo Jima. His first deployment to New Georgia introduced him to jungle warfare, including encounters with headhunting tribes and Japanese soldiers skilled in camouflage. Wright learned that Marines were banned from getting tattoos in the Pacific because the Japanese were known to skin tattoos off fallen Marines for lampshades—a gruesome practice that deterred him despite his initial interest.
At Guadalcanal, Wright's unit guarded Henderson and Anderson fields. He recounts how two Marine squads near the Breadfruit Canal were ambushed by Japanese soldiers hiding in coconut trees, resulting in heavy casualties. Wright helped the chaplain administer last rites to the dead and dying—a traumatic responsibility that forced him to confront the reality of losing his peers in combat.
During the invasion of Guam, Wright's unit faced approximately 400 Japanese soldiers supported by tanks. In the chaos, Wright engaged in hand-to-hand combat and was stabbed in the stomach with a bayonet as he fell backward over his foxhole. A fellow Marine shot the attacking soldier, saving Wright's life. Though painful, the bayonet wound wasn't deep enough to require hospitalization, and a corpsman simply cleaned and taped it shut.
Between Guam and Iwo Jima, Wright's battalion trained for eight months, preparing for volcanic terrain and heavily fortified bunkers. Upon landing at Iwo Jima, Wright was knocked unconscious by shrapnel, losing his helmet but quickly recovering to continue the assault. His squad repeatedly attacked and withdrew from a strategic hill five times before finally holding ground. Wright, known for preferring hand-to-hand combat over firearms, found this skill especially necessary in Iwo Jima's relentless close-quarters fighting.
On Iwo Jima, Wright was carrying extra ammunition when a Japanese soldier fired a machine gun at him. Two rounds struck him across the chest and side—one traveled through his upper right chest and exited on the left, cracking bone and damaging his lung. With his left arm raised, both bullets shredded the muscle, effectively destroying it. Two corpsmen dragged him into a shell hole for protection. Wright's wounded BAR operator, hit by grenade shrapnel, joined him in the same shell hole, and together they managed to walk back to the aid station.
At the hospital ship, doctors deemed Wright's arm too damaged to salvage and prepared to amputate. Wright regained consciousness as the doctor reached for the saw and instinctively struck the doctor, knocking him across the room. Guards restrained Wright until a captain intervened, promising his arm would not be amputated. The team then bandaged his chest and left his arm intact.
Due to an administrative error, Wright's medical tag listed only "combat fatigue" instead of gunshot wounds. As he moved between four different hospital ships and psychiatric wards, medical staff never independently examined his injuries, placing him in combat fatigue wards instead. A nurse once discovered Wright lying in a pool of blood from his wound, but despite this, doctors left the internal bleeding unaddressed. Nearly 80 years later, Wright continues to struggle with chest fluid and blood issues, reporting that doctors still ignore his pleas to inspect his chest cavity.
Years after the war, the governor of Guam invited Wright to serve as grand marshal in a reunion parade. Upon his emotional return, Wright witnessed a sunrise from his hotel balcony and spontaneously gave a speech. During this moment, butterflies appeared from beneath the balcony and fluttered upward as if listening—an experience Wright describes as so moving it couldn't be captured on film. Butterflies appeared again during the parade when the governor presented Wright with a T-shirt calling him "Liberator Frank."
Wright reflects on meeting the liberated Chamorro people, noting the unmistakable look of joy and relief in their eyes, particularly in the children. These interactions gave him a tangible understanding of freedom's value and the humanitarian dimension of the Pacific campaign. He also describes finding Japanese soldiers who had committed seppuku rather than face defeat, underscoring the profound cultural differences in views of honor and surrender between American and Japanese forces.
Wright emphasizes that young Marines must respect and follow the training of experienced drill instructors, who "have been there, they've done that" and know how to keep Marines alive in combat. Drawing from his six months as a drill instructor, Wright stresses that DI training stems from real combat experience and is essential for survival.
Wright forcefully urges Marines with health issues to seek medical help and communicate their symptoms openly, even if it means questioning medical personnel or officers. He acknowledges this is difficult in Marine Corps culture but insists it's vital: "Listen to the patient. Patient knows his body." Wright advocates for reducing the stigma around discussing injuries, trauma, and medical issues in military communities, emphasizing that taking care of one's health is not weakness but a necessary part of service and self-care.
1-Page Summary
After the attack on Pearl Harbor, Frank Wright decided to join the Marine Corps at just sixteen years old. When he first attempted to enlist, he was rejected for being underage. Undeterred, Wright enlisted the help of his aunt—his mother's sister—to provide a birth certificate, though it was never certified. The recruiting sergeant accepted it without verification, wanting Wright in the ranks. This creative workaround allowed Wright to join the Marines despite his young age.
During his enlistment physical, Wright managed to hide five pounds of bananas in his uniform. The sergeant overseeing the examination did not discover this, further demonstrating Wright’s resourcefulness and determination to join the military.
Wright initially aimed to become an airplane mechanic in the Marine Corps, motivated by his prior experience building model planes and a deep interest in mechanics. He asked repeatedly to join the Marine Corps Air Force as a mechanic, and sergeants assured him it would happen. However, that position never materialized, and the closest he came to aircraft was occasionally seeing planes fly overhead.
Wright quickly discovered he was better at fighting than at mechanical work. A.H. Allen, Wright’s senior drill instructor, recognized his physical skills and combat ability during training. Sergeant Allen nominated Wright for the elite 4th Marine Raider Battalion, making him the fourth recruit chosen from their company. This early recognition set Wright on a path toward advanced combat duty.
Training with the Marine Raiders was shaped by the combat philosophy of James Roosevelt, the president’s son, who emphasized lethal effectiveness over taking prisoners. Roosevelt’s message to the new Raiders focused on aggression and survival: they were there to kill, not capture. Every aspect of the training, enforced by instructors like Sergeant Allen, was meant to instill this mindset.
Early Service: Joining At 16 and Training With Marine Raiders
Frank Wright served with the 4th Marine Raider Battalion and later the 21st Marines, fighting in pivotal Pacific campaigns—including New Georgia, Guadalcanal, Guam, and Iwo Jima. His recollections reveal the intense, unforgiving nature of combat, the cultural and tactical challenges the Marines faced, and the emotional toll of war.
Wright's first deployment was to New Georgia. Although he did not kill anyone there, the experience taught him a great deal about jungle warfare and the brutal realities of the Pacific theatre. He observed repeated ambushes—sometimes involving rival native tribes with headhunting practices. Wright describes learning of how these tribes killed and beheaded enemies, placing heads on statues, and the horror of encountering such customs.
Wright also faced Japanese soldiers skilled in camouflage, which often gave them an upper hand in jungle fighting. Their expertise prompted recommendations for the Marines to adopt better camouflage training, though Wright notes he never actually received such instruction in boot camp—camouflage work had to be learned in the field.
Wright reveals Marines were strictly forbidden from getting tattoos in the Pacific. The Japanese were known to skin tattoos off fallen Marines and use the skin for lampshades. This gruesome practice deterred Wright from getting a tattoo, despite having wanted one before.
After landing on Guadalcanal, Wright’s orders were to guard Henderson and Anderson fields, relieving other Marines who had just come off the attack.
Wright recounts how two Marine squads near the Breadfruit Canal were caught in an ambush by Japanese soldiers hiding in coconut trees. The lack of effective scouting resulted in heavy Marine casualties. He describes the tragedy of seeing so many young Marines killed in a trap set with careful planning.
Responding to the aftermath, Wright helped the chaplain administer last rites to the dead and dying. This traumatic responsibility forced Wright to face the reality of seeing his peers killed in close combat—an emotional burden that left a lasting impression.
During the invasion of Guam, Wright’s unit faced an assault by about 400 Japanese soldiers supported by tanks. The battle erupted as Japanese troops advanced behind their armor, attacking Marines still emerging from their foxholes.
In the chaos, Wright engaged in hand-to-hand combat with a Japanese soldier who charged and stabbed him in the stomach with a bayonet as Wright fell backward over the berm of his foxhole.
A fellow Marine next to Wright shot or otherwise neutralized the Japanese soldier, preventing further injury. Both men’s blood mingled in the aftermath as Wright lay wounded but alive.
The bayonet wound, while painful, was not deep enough to hospitalize Wright. The corpsman cleaned the injury and taped it shut, allowing Wright to remain at the aid station while more severely wounded Marines received major care.
Years after the war, the governor of Guam invited Wright to serve as grand marshal in a reunion parade commemorating the island’s liberation.
Returning to Guam, Wright retraced his landing site and former battlefields. Despite the landscape having grown markedly greener, major landmarks remained recognizable. This pilgrimage allowed him to reflect on his path through the island during its liberation.
Wright recalls seeing the gratitude an ...
Combat in Pacific Battles: Guadalcanal, New Georgia, Guam, Iwo Jima
Frank Wright’s experience on Iwo Jima exemplifies the brutal physical trauma and subsequent medical mismanagement that many frontline soldiers endured during World War II.
Wright describes cresting a hill on Iwo Jima, carrying extra ammunition for the BAR men, when a Japanese soldier fired a machine gun at him. The first two rounds hit together, striking Wright across the chest and side. One bullet traveled through his upper right chest and exited on the left, cracking bone and damaging his lung.
As the bullets exited, they left a large open wound on Wright’s left side. With his left arm raised to fire, both rounds shredded the muscle in his left arm, effectively destroying the tissue and leaving it useless.
Immediately after being shot, Wright collapsed. Two corpsmen behind him quickly grabbed his pack straps and dragged him into the nearest shell hole for protection and to administer first aid.
Wright’s BAR operator, also his comrade, was hit by grenade shrapnel in his back and sought assistance. The corpsmen guided the injured BAR operator down into the same shell hole as Wright. Both wounded, they discussed their next move. Despite Wright’s severe injuries, the two managed to support each other and walk back to the Third Division aid station just beyond Airfield Number 2.
At the aid station, medics transferred Wright and his comrade to a hospital ship. While waiting to be taken to surgery, doctors examined Wright’s arm, which had extensive muscle loss. Deeming amputation more practical than attempting to salvage the limb, a doctor prepared to begin the procedure. Wright regained consciousness as the doctor reached for the saw. Instinctively, Wright resisted, violently striking the doctor and knocking him across the room, sending the surgical tray flying. Guards quickly restrained Wright. Amid the chaos, a captain intervened and promised Wright his arm would not be amputated, which calmed him. The medical team then bandaged his chest and left his arm intact.
After surgery, Wright discovered his medical tag listed only "combat fatigue" instead of the expected entry for gunshot wounds. This administrative error meant subsequent doctors did not independently examine Wright’s injuries. As he was moved between four different hospital ships and psychiatric wards, medical staff simply followed the card and placed him in wards for combat ...
Injuries and Medical Challenges on Iwo Jima
Frank Wright describes an emotional return to Guam, marked by a series of profound and symbolic experiences. Upon arrival, he was given a room on the twelfth floor of the Hilton Hotel. Early at sunrise, his companions woke him to witness the breathtaking view from the balcony. As he took in the sunrise, Wright felt a wellspring of emotion, compelled to give voice to what was in his heart. Standing on the balcony, still in his shorts, he gave a small speech as a photographer filmed the moment.
Amidst this, Wright noticed two dogs sitting at the bottom of the building, looking up at him as he spoke, which deepened the emotional atmosphere. Then, unexpectedly, a flock of butterflies appeared from beneath the balcony and fluttered upward in front of him, as if listening to his words. Wright says the moment was so real and moving it could not be captured on film. An eagle also flew up in front of them, then vanished, as the two dogs below began to howl. Later, during a reunion parade attended by the governor of Guam, butterflies appeared once again, passing between Wright and the governor as she honored him and presented him with a T-shirt, calling him "Liberator Frank." The presence of butterflies at both key moments was seen as a powerful sign.
Wright reflects on the experience of meeting the liberated people of Guam. The governor thanked him for his sacrifices, and Wright realized the profound meaning behind the liberation effort. He observes that those freed from Japanese tyranny, especially the Chamorro people, exhibited an unmistakable look of joy and relief in their eyes. Wright describes looking into the eyes of survivors, particularly young children, and seeing the essence of freedom reflected back at him. Their gratitude and visible resilience gave him a tangible understanding of the purpose and value of his sacrifices in the Pacific campaign.
Wright recalls how the Chamorros often assisted Marines, taking them deep into the jungle and showing kindness, which rein ...
Guam: Reflections on Freedom and Sacrifice
Frank Wright, a former Marine Drill Instructor, emphasizes the deep importance of young Marines listening to and respecting the training and instructions of their experienced drill instructors (DIs). Drawing from his six months as a DI during a four-year tour, Wright tells both his own children and young Marines that DI training stems from real combat experience and a proven ability to survive and keep recruits alive. He reminds Marines that their DIs "have been there, they've done that," and know how to handle themselves in the kinds of high-pressure situations Marines may face. Wright underscores that the training provided by DIs is non-optional and embodies the hard-won wisdom of seasoned combatants, reinforcing that these practices are essential for both survival and effectiveness in combat.
Wright forcefully urges Marines with health issues to actively seek medical help and not ignore or downplay symptoms. He highlights the importance of patient advocacy, pointing out that Marines must listen to their bodies and insist on further investigation if they feel something is wrong—even if initial medical assessments or treatments are not sufficient. Wright acknowledges the challenge in Marine Corps culture of questioning or correcting medical personnel or officers, but insists that it’s vital for Marines to communicate openly about how they feel: "Listen to the patient. Patient knows his body. I knew something was wrong... And it's hard when you're trying to... and keep your cool and tell the doctor or officer, he's wrong. You just don't do that in the Marine Corps." Shawn Ryan supports this, telling Marines, "If you need help, seek it out." Wright adds, "Don't take it yourself, son. Seek help, ask someone... tell someone and let them know what you feel and how you feel. Don't do it yourself. God gave you a good body, and He' ...
Advice For Marines On Seeking Help For Health
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