Don't know what a Rakkasan is? Neither did Grand Junction veteran Robert Kirner, 89, when he enlisted in the military.

Kirner’s story begins in 1947 when he dropped out of high school in Wisconsin. He began working at a meat processing plant but knew he wanted to do something different. In 1948, he decided to enlist in the military even though he was a month shy of his 18th birthday. Undeterred, he falsified the year of birth on his birth certificate. After a casual glance at the paper, the Army recruiter said, “Okay, you’re in.”

He told the recruiter he wanted to be a paratrooper, to which the recruiter replied, “You’re crazy.” Unfazed, Kirner said, “Well, it pays $50 more a month.”

Kirner went to basic training at Fort Ord by Monterey, California. He then shipped out as part of the 187th Airborne Infantry Regiment to Japan, which was still under the post-war occupation led by General Douglas MacArthur. Kirner spent some of his eight-month deployment to Japan on the island of Hokkaido, near the city of Sapporo.

While in Japan, Kirner went to jump school, which lasted only two weeks.

“The second week we were jumping out of C46 transport planes,” he said, adding that paratroopers wore gear that weighed almost as much as they did.

Japanese locals had a whimsical term for American paratroopers. They called each paratrooper a rakkasan, which, loosely translated, means “falling umbrella man.” The nickname stuck, and the Americanized plural form, Rakkasans, soon became an established way to identify members of the regiment.

After his first stint in Japan, Kirner returned stateside and was stationed at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, for 18 months. It was a short 18 months.

Korea-bound

On June 25, 1950, North Korea invaded South Korea after a series of skirmishes along the 38th parallel and quickly thereafter took almost the whole length of the peninsula, as far south as Pusan. Two months after the war started, Kirner was shipped out.

“They made the 187th Regiment a regimental combat team and sent us to Korea via Japan,” Kirner said. “It was all a hurry-up affair.”

For good reason. Historians noted that North Korea dominated the conflict early on. The U.S. suffered a significant number of casualties in the first quarter of the war.

Although the Korean war was the first that the United Nations entered, it was primarily fought by South Korea and the United States against North Korea and China, and 21 other U.N. countries sent troops and/or supplies. The Soviet Union was also in the fight, backing North Korea.

Not once, but twice Kirner jumped out of a plane in full daylight, a floating target for enemy snipers—if they were quick enough

Kirner landed at Pusan, Korea, in September and spent nine frigid months fighting in the country. He suffered from dysentery, all the while enduring Siberian winds that can reduce temperatures to a bone-numbing cold. According to Kirner, he overheard others say it was the coldest winter in 100 years in that region.

Not once, but twice Kirner jumped out of a plane in full daylight, a floating target for enemy snipers—if they were quick enough. The plane flew at an exceptionally low altitude of 500 feet, which meant Kirner and his fellow paratroopers were only in the air 25-35 seconds after they jumped.

One day, nearly 3,800 men jumped.

“It was just solid parachutes up there,” Kirner said, all a target for enemy fire. Wave after wave of C-119 aircraft let paratroopers loose upon the enemy, and it had its effect.

Slowly the tide began to turn against the North Koreans. Troops fighting on behalf of South Korea created a united front and kept pushing the North Koreans back to their own country—those who survived, anyway.

“We just kept moving, taking over, and moving on,” Kirner said.

Fighting was intense, and Kirner feels lucky to have come out of it alive.

The Forgotten War

More than a few buddies were lost in a conflict that is estimated to have caused 33,686 U.S. battle deaths, along with 2,830 non-battle deaths. All in all, historians estimate that 5 million soldiers and civilians lost their lives on both sides of the struggle.

Then there was the general who lost his job. In April 1951, President Harry Truman relieved MacArthur of his command after some spats between the two. Historians say that MacArthur had asked Truman to let him bomb Communist China and bring into the fighting national Chinese troops from Taiwan. Fearing China’s reaction to such moves, Truman said no, and soon after replaced MacArthur with General Mathew Ridgeway. Nevertheless, MacArthur came home to a hero’s welcome.

Unfortunately, this was in sharp contrast to the attention given to some of his troops in California.

“They spit on us,” Kirner recalled.

The war came to a halt—not an end—when both sides decided upon a border at the 38th parallel. Combatants signed only an armistice, or truce, rather than a full-fledged peace treaty on July 27, 1953. South Korea refused to sign. Both sides still guard the DMZ at the 38th parallel.

Compared to most wars, the Korean War was relatively short, and it was squeezed between World War II and the buildup to the Vietnam War. It received little media attention, and it became known as the Forgotten War.

Civilian life

After leaving the service, Kirner married and had five children. He chose police work as his next profession, putting in 30 years on the job in both Arizona and Wisconsin. In his free time, he learned to fly an airplane and later bought one. He agreed that it is much better to be at the controls of a plane rather than in the back waiting for an order to jump.

He moved from Page, Arizona, to the Western Slope 32 years ago, and continued flying.

“I flew mostly from the Midwest to the West Coast,” Kirner said, adding that he racked up about 1,500 hours of flying on his private time.

Inevitably, time has clipped Kirner’s wings a bit, but this Rakkasan has not let advancing years slow him down. He still displays a quick wit and sincere interest in helping other people.

Recently, he was recognized by the Western Slope VFW Post and Auxiliary 3981 for a generous contribution to the post.

Kirner always does his best to give others some good cheer—to laugh or at least crack a smile.

“I’m 89 and I’m still having fun!” he said.