Gregory Golodoff, the last survivor of the 1941 Japanese invasion of Attu Island in Alaska, passed away at the age of 84 in November this year. His death has stirred up memories of the only World War II battle to take place on North American soil, and has highlighted the unique cultural heritage of the remote island.
Golodoff was just three years old when the Japanese troops captured Attu Island, a desolate, mountainous slab of tundra located between the North Pacific Ocean and the Bering Sea. His sister, Elizabeth “Liz” Golodoff Kudrin, was the second-to-last surviving Attuan, and died in February at the age of 82.
Attu’s invasion and subsequent liberation by the American forces in 1943 was dubbed “the forgotten battle” of World War II. About 2,500 Japanese soldiers perished in the battle, and roughly 550 U.S. soldiers died due to inadequate gear and exposure to the harsh weather conditions.
Despite the victory, the Attuans were not allowed to return to their homeland, as the U.S. military deemed it too expensive to rebuild the community. Most were sent to the island of Atka, located about 200 miles away.
The loss of their homeland has had a profound effect on the Attuan culture. Their language, Sakinam Tunuu, is now all but gone, spoken only by a few members of Helena Schmitz’s immediate family. Similarly, the distinctive basket-weaving style of the island is practiced by just three or four weavers, and not all of them are of Attuan descent. Schmitz runs a nonprofit named Atux Forever to revive the cultural heritage.
Much of what is known about the Alaska Natives’ time in Japan is chronicled in the book “Attu Boy,” written by Golodoff’s older brother, Nick. The cover of the book features a photograph of him riding on the back of a Japanese soldier, both smiling.
However, the experience of the Attuans in Japan was far from typical. Of the Attu residents interned in Japan, 22 died from malnutrition, starvation or tuberculosis. Mike Hodikoff, Schmitz’s great-grandfather, died with his son of food poisoning from eating rotten garbage while in Japanese captivity.
The Attuans were initially kept captive in their homes for three months before being told to pack up and bring what food they could for the journey to Japan. Once there, they were kept in four cramped rooms in an abandoned dormitory. Only Etta Jones, a white teacher from New Jersey, was separated from them and taken in a different boat to an internment facility in Yokohama.
One Japanese guard complained the Attuans ate better than the Japanese, but conditions worsened when the Alaskans ran out of the food they brought. Olean Golodoff, Gregory and Liz’s mother, was forced to work long hours in a clay mine. As their numbers dwindled, she also became the cook for the surviving POWs, though there was little to make.
Today, Attu Island is part of the Alaska Maritime National Wildlife Refuge and is a popular destination for bird-watchers from North America and Asia. Gregory Golodoff’s wife of 50 years, Pauline, said he never spoke with her about his experience in Japan or about being the last living resident of Attu.
The legacy of the Attuans’ time in Japan will live on through the memories of those who survived. Their stories are a reminder of the resilience of the human spirit, and of the importance of preserving cultural heritage.
