As his wife hung red, white and blue bunting on the porch of their neat Pilsen two-flat, World War II veteran Joe Lopez recalled his time as the only Hispanic in his Army unit. "It's something I didn't talk about with others. But I felt like I was different, because I was the only Latino," Lopez said Sunday as his family prepared for their Fourth of July celebration.

Actually, half a million to 750,000 Hispanics served in WWII. Not to mention the spouses -- Rosita Riveters who stayed behind to do their husbands' jobs and raise their families -- of young men like Lopez, now 82. But not much attention had been paid to them until March, when Hispanic leaders rallied against PBS and filmmaker Ken Burns over the alleged exclusion of Latinos from his 14-hour documentary "The War."

Scheduled to air in September, the story is told through the eyes of four veterans -- including a Japanese American and an African American. While ignoring Latinos, it also fails to address the contributions of women or Native Americans. The piece has been defended by Burns as a work of art, not a historical treatise, but he's been working with several organizations to include Hispanic contributions in the film. The controversy has shed light on a little-known corner of history.

» Click to enlarge image

World War II veteran Joe Lopez Sr. (shown in 1945 and Sunday) remembers a time when he was the only Latino in his U.S. Army unit.
(Courtesy/Sun-Times)

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Tell us your story

Are you one of the forgotten ones, a Hispanic veteran of World War II? Have you been waiting to tell your war story? E-mail us at hispanicvets@suntimes.com with your stories of Latinos' WWII military experiences.

The facts were clearer immediately after the war than in recent years. "When I came home I read articles and felt proud that there were other Latinos serving with me," said Lopez, whose brother Sam also served in WWII, brother Jesse served in Korea, and youngest brother Epinemio served in Vietnam.

"I enlisted 'cause I thought it was the right thing to do," said the Mexican-born Lopez. He trained as a cook and became a paratrooper with the 11th Airborne Division command, jumping into combat in Japanese territory. He is still scarred and plagued by memories of the killing he witnessed and the long-term effects of the malaria he contracted. While in the Army, he earned his GED and his U.S. citizenship.

While Luna can't say how many Hispanic WWII soldiers were from the Chicago area, he rattled off the names of a few locals who served admirably but have been forgotten: Marcellino Romero Sr., who served as Gen. Douglas MacArthur's bodyguard, and Manuel Perez Jr., who has a Little Village school named after him and posthumously received the Medal of Honor for his actions in Battle of Luzon in the Philippines.

There are also scores of non-Chicagoans, like Guy Gabaldo, "the Pied Piper of Saipan," who persuaded 1,000 Japanese soldiers to surrender, and Oscar Francis Perdomo, a U.S. Army Air Forces officer who was the last "ace in a day," shooting down five airplanes in a single day.

"It's very difficult to have a true count, because the records haven't been kept for us," said Luna, who noted until relatively recently the census only counted people as black or white and didn't keep track of ethnicity.

Lopez and his family agree, especially in light of what they see as an increasingly anti-immigrant atmosphere stoked by last month's failed attempt at reforming immigration laws.

"They're picking on us because we're a minority," Lopez said. "So I think this is good. It will help create a different attitude towards Latinos."