WW2 Propaganda Song: The Ballad of Rodger Young, (1945)
Frank Loesser (1910-1969) is a mostly-forgotten songwriter, a Jewish man born in New York City in 1910.
He’s probably most famous these days as the songwriter behind 1944’s “Baby, it’s Cold Outside” which was culturally purged in the era of woke insanities of the 2020’s.
Loesser also wrote the songs and lyrics for “Guys and Dolls.”
The lyrics to the “Baby it’s Cold Outside” song were said to have been impliedly sexist or promoting soft coercion in order to get sexual contact by men against women, or something.
In other words, they labelled it the “Date Rape” song.
It’s hard to even understand what contrived arguments leftists are making these days, since they’re always so ridiculous.
In any case, here are Loesser’s offending lyrics from “Baby, it’s Cold Outside.”
As you can probably tell, Loesser is no Shakespeare.
“Baby, it’s Cold Outside.”
I really can't stay
Baby, it's cold outside
I've got to go away
Baby, it's cold outside
This evening has been
Hoping that you'd drop in
So, very nice
I'll hold your hands, they're just like iceMy mother will start to worry
Beautiful, what's your hurry?
My father will be pacing the floor
Listen to that fireplace roar
So, really I'd better scurry
Beautiful, please don't hurry
But maybe just a half a drink more
I'll put some records on while I pourThe neighbors might think
Baby, it's bad out there
Say, what's in this drink?
No cabs to be had out there
I wish I knew how
Your eyes are like starlight now
To break this spell
I'll take your hat, your hair looks swellI ought to say, "No, no, no sir"
Mind if I move in closer?
At least I'm gonna say that I tried
What's the sense in hurting my pride?
I really can't stay
Baby, don't hold out
Baby, it's cold outsideUgh, you're very pushy, you know?
I'd like to think of it as opportunisticI simply must go
Baby, it's cold outside
The answer is, "No"
But, baby, it's cold outside
The welcome has been
How lucky that you dropped in
So nice and warm
Look out the window at that stormMy sister will be suspicious
Gosh, your lips look delicious
My brother will be there at the door
Waves upon a tropical shore
My maiden aunt's mind is vicious
Gosh, your lips are delicious
But maybe just cigarette more
Never such a blizzard beforeI've got to get home
Baby, you'll freeze out there
Say, lend me your comb?
It's up to your knees out there
You've really been grand
I thrill when I touch your hand
But don't you see?
How can you do this thing to me?There's bound to be talk tomorrow
Think of my life-long sorrow
At least there will be plenty implied
If you got pneumonia and died
I really can't stay
Get over that hold out
Baby, it's cold
Baby, it's cold outsideOkay, fine, just another drink
That took a lot of convincing
So, while it’s not exactly something you’d want to turn into a family song or a song between relatives, it’s relatively innocent, at least in the context and contrast to such modern classics as “WAP.”
One of Loesser’s lesser-known works is “The Ballad of Rodger Young.”
Rodger Wilton Young (1918-1943) was a U.S. Army soldier who died in 1943, age 25, and received the Medal of Honor for merit and courage in the face of the enemy.
Young’s Medal of Honor citation reads:
On 31 July 1943, the infantry company of which Pvt. Young was a member, was ordered to make a limited withdrawal from the battle line in order to adjust the battalion's position for the night. At this time, Pvt. Young's platoon was engaged with the enemy in a dense jungle where observation was very limited. The platoon suddenly was pinned down by intense fire from a Japanese machine gun concealed on higher ground only 75 yards away. The initial burst wounded Pvt. Young. As the platoon started to obey the order to withdraw, Pvt. Young called out that he could see the enemy emplacement, whereupon he started creeping toward it. Another burst from the machine gun wounded him the second time. Despite the wounds, he continued his heroic advance, attracting enemy fire and answering with rifle fire. When he was close enough to his objective, he began throwing hand grenades, and while doing so was hit again and killed. Pvt. Young's bold action in closing with this Japanese pillbox, and thus diverting its fire, permitted his platoon to disengage itself, without loss, and was responsible for several enemy casualties.
But the citation language does not tell the full story of Rodger Young.
In life, Young was deaf, nearly blind, and very small at 5’2” and 125 pounds. Somewhere along the line he gained the nickname “Fuzz.”
He died as a Private even though he had, through incredible hard work, been promoted to Sergeant.
Despite his smaller frame, in high school he tried out for sports and through sheer determination, ended up on the football and basketball teams. While playing basketball, he suffered an injury as a teenager that caused his hearing and eyesight to gradually worsen.
The injury was so bad that he laid motionless for two hours as his parents wondered whether or not he would get up.
He recovered, sort of.
After the basketball injury his eyes and ears started failing. Because his eyesight was failing, and he had a hard time hearing, his grades faltered. Whereas he was once a strong student, now he was falling below average.
He was short, with bad eyes, and bad ears. Not a great combination in the 1930’s.
He had been a paperboy and drove a sedan. He liked girls, but didn’t have a ‘steady’ according to his mother. He was an average boy of below-average height who now had a very rare dual disability and very few prospects.
In the middle of his sophomore year, he dropped out in order to work in a local factory, the Clyde Porcelain Steel Corporation, which in 1952 merged with Whirlpool. He was determined to earn money to support his immediate family.
Knowing that he would fail the entrance exam to the Army, he enlisted in the Ohio National Guard with lower standards in 1939, age 21.
He had three brothers and a sister, and was off the farm to be a part-time soldier.
Unexpectedly for Rodger, the National Guard unit was ‘federalized’ the next year and he found himself in the Army even with his disabilities. The Army was sending Rodger to war in the Pacific.
In 1942 the 37th Infantry Division, the Ohio National Guard that Rodger was in, went to Camp Shelby, Mississippi to train. He was there with his older brother George Webster (1916-1969).
He worked so hard and demonstrated such perseverance that the Army promoted him to Sergeant.
During the Guadalcanal campaign of 1942-1943, the 37th Infantry Division left San Francisco for Guadalcanal. They sailed on the SS President Coolidge and first made a stop on the island of Fiji. From there, they went to Guadalcanal, where they received additional training.
At this point Rodger Young was a Staff Sergeant.
His friends say that his tent banter was mainly talking about home and the girl he planned to date when he got back stateside.
In late June 1943, while training his men for the upcoming battles, Sgt. Young realized that because of his handicaps and disabilities he was not the best person to command these troops into combat.
The plan was to see combat on the island of New Georgia to help seize the Munda Airstrip from the Japanese.
Fearing what could happen, Young went to visit the 148th Regimental Commander and requested a demotion to Private.
Young wanted to be in the combat but he knew that he was not the man to lead the team. He was in charge of this small band of boys, and he didn’t want to lose a single one because of him.
When asked why he wanted to be demoted, Young replied:
"Well, sir.... you see...my ears are going bad. I can't hear very well anymore and I don't want any of my men killed in New Georgia because of me."
The commander, not really listening with his good ears, replied, “What's the matter Sergeant? Don't you want to fight?"
Young replied, “I don't want to leave the outfit. I want to go on -- but as a private, so I'm only responsible for myself. I don't want to get any of my men hurt because of me. If I thought I'd be left behind because of this, then I'd rather drop the whole thing.”
The commander demoted Young as he requested, down to Private.
It was humiliating, but it was for the good of the boys. Young saw his friends, the ones he enlisted with, rise up in rank above him and prepare to lead the team.
On July 31, 1943, the 148th Infantry Regiment was being led by now-Pvt. Young’s boyhood friend, Sergeant Walter Rigby (1919-1987). They were into the mid-afternoon and were planning to return before it got dark.
They didn’t know five Japanese soldiers with a machine gun were watching them walk along the trail and were waiting for the perfect moment to open up on them.
And then shots rang out.
Two soldiers in the 148th died instantly.
18 men scrambled for cover.
They tried to maneuver their way out, but their gamble took the lives of two more men.
16 men now waited under cover, trapped.
Four men were dead, all from the same small town area of Ohio. It was time to skulk back to base and hope they wouldn’t lose any more men. The Japs had the high ground and a machine gun, there was no chance to make a stand. It was pointless.
Rigby gave the order to slowly retreat. Pvt. Young couldn’t hear him, or said he couldn’t hear him, and had to be prodded with a stick and motioned that they were giving up. Even though retreat might cost more lives, that was the only smart option left.
Young wanted to take out the machine gun nest, though. Young wanted to lead.
Young crawled past Rigby and Rigby grabbed his leg to stop him, he’d given the men an order and Rigby didn’t want to lose any more of these boys, but Young shook him off.
Rigby then ordered Young to return with him. Young turned to him and said, “Sorry sir, you know I don’t hear very well” and then continued crawling towards the machine gun nest.
The Japanese could see what was happening and laid into Rodger Young.
Young was then hit in the shoulder, making his left arm useless. The round had also shattered the stock of his rifle, enough to take the will out of almost every man.
Young simply left the rifle stock behind him along with a trail of his blood.
Young kept crawling forward to the Japanese.
He was then hit again on his left side, from his thigh to his ankle, with more machine gun fire.
One wonders what the Japanese were thinking at this point.
Rigby ordered Young to stay where he was at, that they would get him out somehow. But Young knew that sending several men to come get him would do nothing but increase the casualty count. That would be the worst possible outcome.
There was either victory or death ahead, this was no time for half measures.
He was only five yards away from the Japanese at this point.
Young crawled up to the muzzle of the machine gun. He used his one remaining good arm and hand to take out a grenade and pulled the pin with his teeth.
His former troops, the boys of his company, watched this happen in awe.
As Rodger Young stood up to make the throw, the Japanese opened up the machine gun into his face. His head exploded, his service was over, but his mission was incomplete by about three seconds.
In his last moment he had thrown the grenade into the machine gun nest and destroyed the enemy. In death, Rodger Young had saved the lives of 15 men. The man who was knocked down to Private to avoid risking the lives of his troops, still found the temerity and courage to save them when they needed him the most.
A letter was sent home to his mother, explaining his courage and his sacrifice.
Such letters were common, trite, cliche. Every man died in some sense as a sacrifice to the nation and to his comrades. But Young’s example set a new standard.
His mother, Mrs. Nicholas Young, wrote back with one simple request: she knew how much pride Rodger Young had when he was made a Staff Sergeant and asked if it would be alright if a privately-funded memorial to him in town described him with his former rank, not his final rank.
Going through the normal military channels, the request was denied.
Sgt. Rigby began the process to honor Rodger Young with the Congressional Medal of Honor. When the citation language came through, Rigby made only one small edit.
Young would not receive the award for having disobeyed orders. The citation was edited to reflect that Young advanced on the enemy even though the smarter and safer route was to withdraw as ordered.
Rodger Young is one of the very few recipients of the Medal of Honor to be awarded for even arguably having disobeyed a direct order.
At the time of his death, Young’s Sergeant was Walter J. Rigby. Rigby had taken over for Lt. Felix Lester who died the day before Rodger Young, in an action where he would later be awarded the Silver Star. Lt. Max Sessler would take command after the death of Lt. Lester.
The regimental commander of the 148th Infantry during this period was Col. Stuart Alexander Baxter (1896-1979).
His commanding officer was Gen. Robert Beightler (1892-1978). Beightler is also notable for having urged Gen. MacArthur to run against Eisenhower in 1952.
Major General Charles L. Scott (1883-1954) presented the Medal of Honor to Rodger’s mother in Fort Knox, Kentucky on Monday January 17, 1944.
Mom got the medal five years before Rodger’s body would return home to Ohio, and six months after he’d been dead.
He laid in a simple grave on the battlefield he served in 1943, as part of the global war raging at the time.
Here are the 30 men in Company B, 148th Infantry, U.S. Army, June 1943. Rodger Young would be dead a month later. He’s in the back row, fourth from left. Look for the shortest guy.
The day he died, he was assigned to a 20 man unit conducting reconnaissance.
They were engaged in what would become known as the Battle of Munda Point.
The Japanese had an airfield that was critical to another stop in the island-hopping campaign. The Munda Point airfield was critical to supporting operations at Bougainville, later in the fall of 1943 and spring of 1944. A few notables in the area later at Bougainville would be the Navy’s Richard Nixon (1913-1994) operating a hamburger stand at the airport, named “Nick’s Hamburger Stand” and also Joseph McCarthy (1908-1957) who, as a Marine, was stationed as part of air raids out of Bougainville.
The Munda Point battle lasted from July 22 through August 5th of 1943, on the island of New Georgia in the Solomons. It was part of the war in the Pacific.
The New Georgia islands are also where the Navy’s John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) was shipwrecked as part of whatever happened to PT-109 three days after Rodger Young died.
Kennedy’s incident was 30 miles away from where Rodger Young died.
The operation that became known as the Battle of Munda Point was relatively simple: land on the east of the island, march five miles west, take out the Japanese air station.
There were three main forces fighting their way westward. The southern flank had the 145th Infantry. The central sector was manned by men from the 161st Infantry from the 25th Division. And the northern flank was given to the 148th Infantry. The three outfits were to stay in synch with one another and progress west together.
The 148th landed on the Red Beach at Zanana on July 17th.
Fierce fighting in the central and southern sectors, however, resulted in the northern sector, populated with men from the 148th, advancing too quickly. Soon, men from companies B and G were, by July 28, surrounded on all sides.
Here are the positions during the 1943 Battle of Munda Point.
By August 5th the air field was in U.S. hands and the island was firmly in American hands.
Out of a U.S. force size of 30,000, 4,994 would be either killed or wounded, in a time frame of 34 days, so the U.S. was taking casualties at the rate of 147 per day. The rate was almost the same for the Japanese, though their total force size was much smaller: only 8,000.
Later, an undergraduate author would claim that Col. Baxter caused many of the problems by overextending the lines of his troops, allowing the Japanese to penetrate the lines, steal supplies, and cause general mayhem. The patrol that Pvt. Young was on, they claim, was because patrols were needed due to the lines not being properly secured.
Here’s the key excerpt:
After the battle, Gen. Beightler relieved Col. Baxter of further command.
A partial list of those who were in the squad with Rodger Young in Company B, 148th Infantry in July 1943:
Staff Sgt. Walter J. Rigby (1919-1987), Green Springs, OH
Pfc. Russell D. Reimert (1920-2005), Kutztown, PA
Private William Ridenour
Dave Mann
There should be 11 other men in the list, to complete the 15 who lived. The four who died in addition to Young are a little easier to estimate and compile through available online records.
These are the men of Company B, 148th Infantry who also died on July 31, 1943. It seems safe to assume that four of them were those who died alongside Young while dealing with the Japanese machine gun nest. I’m trying to find a more detailed list.
Sgt. Melvin C. Traut (d. 1943)
Cpt. Claud R. Miller (1905-1943)
Pfc. Ralph R. Hodgson (1921-1943)
Sgt. Lester L. Dummitt (1916-1943)
Pvt. Donald E. Tuman (1907-1943)
Those are the men without a song, whose sacrifices are not as well remembered.
By March 1945, Frank Loesser would write a war song about Young. It was a bit of a hit at the time.
As with any kind of work like this, it simplifies a great deal while also making certain details resonate and become timeless. The song is interestingly set as a blend of both South Pacific musical styles and a typical war ballad. It is, as others have noted, “simple but affecting.”
Here are the lyrics to Loesser’s song about Rodger Young:
The Ballad of Rodger Young
Oh, they've got no time for glory in the Infantry.
Oh, they've got no use for praises loudly sung,
But in every soldier's heart in all the Infantry
Shines the name, shines the name of Rodger Young.
Shines the name — Rodger Young,
Fought and died for the men he marched among.
To the everlasting glory of the Infantry
Lives the story of Private Rodger Young.
Caught in ambush lay a company of riflemen —
Just grenades against machine guns in the gloom —
Caught in ambush till this one of twenty riflemen
Volunteered, volunteered to meet his doom.
Volunteered — Rodger Young,
Fought and died for the men he marched among.
In the everlasting annals of the Infantry
Glows the last deed of Private Rodger Young.
It was he who drew the fire of the enemy
That a company of men might live to fight;
And before the deadly fire of the enemy
Stood the man, stood the man we hail tonight.
Stood the man — Rodger Young,
Fought and died for the men he marched among.
Like the everlasting courage of the Infantry
Was the last deed of Private Rodger Young.
On the island of New Georgia in the Solomons,
Stands a simple wooden cross alone to tell
That beneath the silent coral of the Solomons,
Sleeps a man, sleeps a man remembered well.
Sleeps a man — Rodger Young,
Fought and died for the men he marched among.
In the everlasting spirit of the Infantry
Breathes the spirit of Private Rodger Young.
No, they've got no time for glory in the Infantry,
No, they've got no use for praises loudly sung,
But in every soldier's heart in all the Infantry
Shines the name, shines the name of Rodger Young.
Shines the name — Rodger Young,
Fought and died for the men he marched among.
To the everlasting glory of the Infantry
Lives the story of Private Rodger Young.
There’s, of course, much more to the story that I will put in future articles about Young.
comment from a reader: why didn’t you include the link to the song. my reply: it’s at the bottom of the article as a YouTube link.