Code Talker: A Novel About the Navajo Marines of World War Two
Joseph Bruchac
Language: English
Pages: 231
ISBN: 0142405965
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
"Readers who choose the book for the attraction of Navajo code talking and the heat of battle will come away with more than they ever expected to find."—Booklist, starred review
Throughout World War II, in the conflict fought against Japan, Navajo code talkers were a crucial part of the U.S. effort, sending messages back and forth in an unbreakable code that used their native language. They braved some of the heaviest fighting of the war, and with their code, they saved countless American lives. Yet their story remained classified for more than twenty years.
But now Joseph Bruchac brings their stories to life for young adults through the riveting fictional tale of Ned Begay, a sixteen-year-old Navajo boy who becomes a code talker. His grueling journey is eye-opening and inspiring. This deeply affecting novel honors all of those young men, like Ned, who dared to serve, and it honors the culture and language of the Navajo Indians.
An ALA Best Book for Young Adults
"Nonsensational and accurate, Bruchac's tale is quietly inspiring..."—School Library Journal
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Chinle and Gallup. Big Schoolboy also belonged to the Catholic Church, as did most of the members of our family now, especially those of us who had been to mission schools. By the time I reached high school, I was no longer the only one of my family who had been sent off to school. My three younger brothers, my baby sister, and quite a number of my cousins had followed my lead. Although my parents knew less about Catholicism than their children did, they had been baptized and went with us when we
was Major General Clinton Vogel, commanding general of the amphibious division of the Pacific Task Force. He knew that the U.S. Army was already using Comanches in Europe to send messages in their own language. After hearing of Philip Johnson’s demonstration, General Vogel authorized the recruitment of that first class of twenty-nine Navajo Marines. Just like us, they were brought to Camp Elliott, where they were locked in this same classroom and told to develop an unbreakable code. Those
to the words of bilagáanaa teachers who had no respect at all for our old ways, and who told us that the best thing we could do would be to forget everything that made us Navajos. Now, practically overnight, that had all changed. Because it was important for us to speak Navajo, we used it with each other much of the time. Unlike at the schools back on the reservation, we were not forced to speak only English. Sometimes, as we chatted with each other in Navajo, the other non-Navajos would look at
meant. He wasn’t just talking about trucks. As always, we Marines in the Pacific got things after the Army was through with them. Most of our tanks and trucks were more than second-hand by the time they reached us. But our mechanics always just patched up the outsides, tuned up the insides, and then repainted them Marine Corps camouflage green. Truth be told, we Marines were kind of fond of those old used vehicles. We had a lot in common with them. We, too, were always being patched up, dropped
into or out of Japan without being attacked by our submarines. Our other plan was to bomb Japan’s cities and factories. If their losses were great enough, perhaps the Japanese command would realize that they had to surrender. Our bombers were flying every day from Saipan and Guam to make raids on Tokyo. First, planes flew over dropping millions of warning leaflets, written in Japanese. We are going to bomb your city. Then, after the civilians had been given time to take shelter or leave, the
