فتاة برازيلية (12 عام) كانت في طريقها للمدرسه برفقة زميلها عندما اقترب منها رجل واخبرها انه يحمل سلاح ويجب عليها فعل ما يقوله لها
اخبرها انه يريد اخذها لارض خالية قريبة من هنا، وهنا اضطرت لان تسير معه وزميلها تجمد من الخوف ولم يستطع فعل شي وبقي فقط يمشي خلفها
اثناء ذلك، رجل يدعى ويليان اوصل ابنه للمدرسه وفي طريق عودته لاحظ ما يحدث وبدأ يراقب الرجل والفتاة وشك ان هناك امر ما، فأقترب منهم وسألها ما ذا كانت بخير، فأنفجرت بالبكاء، فقز ويليان من سيارته وانقذها
حاول الرجل خداع ويليان وقال انه حبيبها، فسأله عن اسمها ولم يعرف، وتصاعد الموقف لاشتباك وحاول الرجل الهروب لكن طاردوه اصحاب الدراجات النارية حتى امسكوا به
في الشرطة برر الرجل مافعل وقال انها بادلت مع النظرات واعتقد انها مهتمه به
ويليان تحول لبطل شعبي في البرازيل، تضاعفت مبيعات مشروعه الصغير، وعُرضت عليه اموال وسيارات تقديرا لشجاعته لكنه رفضها، وهنا لقاء معه في احدى القنوات
الصراحه ويليان بطل حقيقي، كان بإمكانه تجاهل ما يحدث والذهاب في طريقه لكنه اختار تعريض نفسه للخطر لانقاذها ولم يبحث بعد ذلك عن اي شهره او مكافأة لان هذا معدنه الحقيقي
In 1944, thousands of Japanese on Saipan hid in caves, sure the Americans would torture them if they came out. Many families chose the cliffs instead.
An 18-year-old American Marine from East Los Angeles walked up to those caves at night, alone, and called to them in Japanese.
His name was Guy Gabaldon. He was a Mexican American kid who had grown up partly in the home of a Japanese American family, the Nakanos. That is where he picked up his Japanese. When the war came, the Nakanos were sent to internment camps. Their twin sons, Lane and Lyle, joined the U.S. Army anyway and served in the 442nd.
Fifty years later, he still said it plainly: "These were Americans."
On Saipan, Gabaldon was a scout with the 2nd Marine Regiment. Right after landing, he slipped off on his own and came back with prisoners. His commanding officer, Capt. John Schwabe, threatened him with a court-martial for leaving his post.
The next night, he came back with about fifty.
After that, they let him go out alone.
He crawled to the cave mouths in the dark and promised the people inside water, medical care, and that nobody would hurt them. Night after night, ten or twenty at a time, they followed him out.
On July 8, by his own account, about 800 came out in a single day. Schwabe remembered that day too. It was the day they tagged him the Pied Piper of Saipan.
Not everyone listened. At the cliffs, he begged a mother not to kill her child. He watched her throw the baby and jump. He was still talking about it fifty years later.
His Navy Cross citation says that on Saipan and Tinian he brought in "well over one thousand enemy civilians and troops."
Schwabe recommended him for the Medal of Honor. He received the Silver Star. Sixteen years later, after Hollywood made a movie about him, the Navy upgraded it to the Navy Cross.
He died in 2006 and is buried at Arlington National Cemetery.
I am Japanese. Those caves were full of my people, frightened, starving, and certain that the Americans were monsters.
An American teenager walked toward them in the dark and offered them water.
On this Veterans Day, Japan should know his name.