Their Liberty ships and the remains of the Merchant Marine crews who manned them litter the world's ocean floors as sad reminders to the sacrifices they made to ensure that America and its allies prevailed in one of the bloodiest conflicts in human history.

And despite their willingness to put their lives on the line, for almost half a century, the nation they fought so valiantly to protect had officially turned a blind eye to their contributions. For decades after the conclusion of World War II, the men of the U.S. Merchant Marine were all but forgotten heroes of the conflict.

"We were the first in and last out," says Campbell resident John Marshall, the CEO of the Silicon Valley Mariners Chapter of the American Merchant Marine Veterans Association. "But we didn't get any respect."

Marshall says that because the U.S. Merchant Marine was so involved with shipping supplies to England and Russia long before the United States entered the war and was shipping troops home long after the conflict ended, it was active—and taking casualties—far longer than other branches in World War II.

In fact, he says, no branch of the armed services suffered more casualties per capita than the Merchant Marine: the casualty rate among mariners was 3.9 percent, whereas the Marine Corps, with the next highest casualties, had a rate of 2.9 percent.

Despite this record, because the mariners were never sworn in to active duty and because they weren't required to wear uniforms, Marshall says, for almost half a century, many people in the government and military refused to recognize them as veterans.

To them, they were simply civilians.

During times of peace, the Merchant Marine is a fleet of civilian ships carrying goods. During times of war, it becomes an auxiliary to the Navy and is tasked with delivering troops and war material to wherever the military needs them. In World War II, the government controlled what the ships would carry and where the ships would go, often putting the crews in the line of fire.

The government contracted with private shipping companies for the use of their ships, Marshall says, and sometimes put guns and a naval armed guard on board. The Navy also trained the crews to operate the ships and assist in manning the guns.

Marshall, who was 16 years old in 1944, says he was too young to join the military when hostilities broke out. But swept up in the country's wave of patriotism, adventure and "a bit of stupidity," he wanted to go to war.

He heard that because most of the draft-age able-bodied males went into the military, the Merchant Marine was desperate to find help.

"They needed us badly," Marshall says with a laugh. "I even saw a guy who had one leg. Then there were guys who only had one eye. And they put us on ships with all these 'old salts' [experienced sailors over draft age]. About one-third of us were teenagers, one-third old salts, and one-third were handicapped."

Tasked with delivering the fuel, tanks, clothes, planes and locomotives to the U.S. military forces and Allies around the world, the Liberty ships that crisscrossed the world's oceans were exposed to every known hazard that military ships faced.

The mariner crews faced anti-shipping mines, surface raiders, submarines, airstrikes and kamikazes on a daily basis, Marshall says.

"We may have been armed," Marshall says, "but we had pea-shooters compared with what everyone else had on their ships."

Nonetheless, the crews received accolades from everyone from Gen. Douglas MacArthur to President Franklin Roosevelt for their bravery and heroism in battle. In at least one case, a lightly armed Merchant Marine vessel actually sunk an attacking German ship in combat. Because the ships were so lightly armored, however, and because they were often ordered to make shipping runs without military escort, they suffered tremendous casualties, Marshall says. More than 6,000 men were lost in combat, and hundreds of them ended up prisoners of war by the Japanese and the Germans, according to The Forgotten Heroes by Brian Herbert.

Marshall says that although he was officially working in the mess hall during voyages, once, when his ship was attacked in the Philippines, he helped man a gun crew that shot down a Japanese plane that had narrowly missed hitting the ship when it tried to drop two bombs on the crew.

Unlike the other branches, however, the Merchant Marine had no esprit de corps or a sense of tradition and history passed down from one generation of mariner to the next, Marshall says. So stories of the exploits and hazards that the mariners faced as a group went largely untold.

"Nobody knows what we did," Marshall says. "Hell, a lot of us don't even know what we did."

Through the Silicon Valley Mariners Chapter of the American Merchant Marine Veterans Association, he hopes to change that.

Ideally, he says, the group would be actively searching for members, but it hasn't found the means with which to make an effective search possible.

"We only have 30 members, each paying 30 bucks a year in dues," he says. "We can't do much with that kind of money."

Right now, he says, he's concentrating on simply trying to help the existing club members understand who they are and what their place in history was.

On Nov. 11, communities all across America will observe Veteran's Day, a holiday that honors all of those who have served the nation in wars or conflicts. Celebrations have traditionally honored the veterans of the Air Force, Army, Marine Corps and Navy. But only after a lawsuit was filed by a former Merchant Marine were these seamen officially recognized as veterans, in 1988, by the U.S. government.

"It was pretty strange," Marshall says. "One day I was a civilian, and the next I was suddenly a veteran."

Some people, like San Jose resident Al Hadad, say that even though he's happy for the recognition, it seemed a Pyrrhic victory.

When legislation was passed providing these individuals with similar benefits, "we didn't shout for joy," Hadad says. It was too little, too late.

Many of the mariners had already died, and other G.I. Bill benefits were, in effect, worthless.

"We can get home loans now," Hadad says. "But most of us who are still alive already have homes."

The Merchant Marine national organization is now attempting to pass a bill that would allow for further compensation to the mariners or their spouses.

Still, says Marshall, the recognition is something he and many other veterans are proud of. They are no longer simple observers at Veteran's Day parades—they're participants.

In 1999, the Silicon Valley chapter participated in the San Jose Veteran's Day Parade for the first time. Around 43 years after they had done their part to win in World War II, the group of aged men, dressed smartly in gray slacks and blue jackets and sporting the medals and bars they earned as young sailors, finally took their place as members of what has been called the greatest generation.

"There wasn't a single one of us who didn't have a tear in our eyes," Marshall says.

For more information about the Silicon Valley Mariners Chapter of the American Merchant Marine Veterans Association, call John Marshall at 408.559.8580 or visit the group's website at www.usmm.org/siliconvalley.html.