Memorial Day—Jack Lummus, A True Hero

 By John Turney 

Most fans have never heard of Jack Lummus, but if your father or grandfather were in the United States Navy or Marines during and after World War II they'd know about him. You may even have a parent or family relative currently in the Navy who may have served aboard the USNS 1st Lt. Jack Lummus -- the flagship of Maritime Prepositioning Ships Squadron Three. 

They'd know about him, too.

So who was Jack Lummus, and why should they ... or we ... hear about him on Memorial Day? Because he was as good an officer in World War II as he was a football player ... and he was "a damn good end" who didn't mind saying so.

Born in Ennis, Tex., Lummus was an accomplished football player at Texas Military Academy before moving on to Baylor University, where he was a terrific two-way end and gifted centerfielder who hit .300. As an honorable mention All-American in football, he went undrafted but was signed by the New York Giants in late August, 1941 after missing over three weeks of the team's training camp in Wisconsin. 

He hadn't planned to play pro football, dropping out of Baylor during his final semester to fly for the U.S. Army Air Corps, but when those plans went awry he decided to play for one of the New York Giants' -- the New York Baseball Giants' -- minor-league teams.

When that was done, he moved on to the New York Football Giants, where was a teammate of Mel Hein and Tuffy Leemans -- both Hall of Famers -- and was coached by Steve Owen, also immortalized in Canton. It was also where there were two Pro Bowl ends ahead of Lummus in Jim Poole and Jim Lee Howell.

Lummus caught only one pass that season for five yards, but you must remember a couple of things: 1)  The Giants were a team that ran the ball and played great defense, so every catch mattered; and 2) Poole only caught six passes and Howell four. In all, the Giants' ends combined for just 12 receptions all year.

And that great defense? It was the NFL's best that year ... though, unfortunately, not in its final performance. That was a 37-9 loss to the Chicago Bears in the league championship game on Dec. 21, 1941 -- two weeks after Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, causing the United States to enter World War II. News of the attack had been announced during the Giants' regular-season finale.

In just over a month after his final NFL game, Lummus enlisted in the Marine Corps, did his basic training and was assigned as a military policeman. But he wanted more. So he was accepted into Officers Candidates School and, almost one year to the day following the attack on Pearl Harbor, was commissioned as a second lieutenant.

In time, he was given command as an executive officer for Company F (Fox), 2nd Battalion, 27th Marines and sent to the Pacific where, in early 1945, he landed on Iwo Jima to face a dug-in and determined enemy intent on repelling Operation Detachment, as the invasion was named, from taking the island's two airfields. 

A week and a half later, he was dispatched to lead a rifle platoon from Company E (Easy) to secure and pass through a key gorge where he and his men were pinned down by Japanese sniper fire for a day and a half. According to military reports acquired by Mary Hartman, Lummus' love interest in California, he grew so impatient with the stalled advance that he decided to spring into action.

"Finally, Jack could bear it no longer," she wrote. "He raced into no-man's land, sprinting in the graceful, gazelle-like style that had scored him so many touchdowns."

Lummus headed for the first of three pillboxes he would take out that day when an enemy grenade exploded nearby, concussing him as he fell to the ground. Undaunted, he climbed to his feet and led a charge to the second enemy position where a second grenade struck, wounding him. But Lummus rose again, charging the second target and killing the snipers inside.

That left one final pillbox, and it was the most challenging. Armed with a heavy machine gun, its fire scattered Lummus' men. But, in an heroic scene that seems scripted by Hollywood but, in fact, was documented by the military, Lummus once again charged and silenced the bunker's occupants. Afterward, the wounded junior officer rallied his Marines to clear Japanese positions from additional pillboxes, caves, spider traps and even cover created by Naval air strikes to get through the gorge.

And that's when it happened. 

Lummus stepped on a land mine that shredded his legs and feet. He would not survive the day. As he was carried to medical aid, he reportedly said, "Well, it looks like the Giants have lost a damn good end." Reports say that he repeated that phrase several times, perhaps as a mantra or prayer.

The Marine companies Fox and East moved through the gorge and completed their objective, but it came at the highest of costs for Lummus: He was one of over 6,800 men killed in the taking of Iwo Jima.

Hartman's research showed that doctors thought Lummus could have survived his lower-leg injuries but that he couldn't overcome internal damage, caused perhaps by the pair of exploding grenades that landed near him.

For his heroics, Lummus was awarded the Medal of Honor, the United States Armed Forces' highest decoration, with a citation that read:

"By his outstanding valor, skilled tactics, and tenacious perseverance in the face of overwhelming odds, 1st Lt. Lummus had inspired his stouthearted Marines to continue the relentless drive northward, thereby contributing materially to the success of his regimental mission. His dauntless leadership and unwavering devotion to duty throughout sustain and enhance the highest traditions of the U.S. Naval Service. He gallantly gave his life in the service of his country."

On Oct. 11, 2015, the Giants honored Lummus by inducting hiim into their Ring of Honor.

They knew what Jack Lummus did seven decades earlier: They lost "a damn good end" in World War II. But they weren't alone. The United States Marines Corps lost a damn good officer, too.