LETTERS 125 to 149
Letter 125 - Written By:
Lois Hanson
Murrells Inlet
SC
October 23, 2006
Dear John Luckett,
I don't know if you will remember me. I certainly remember you. I remember you as a kind of funny, happy go lucky kind of guy. I remember we had a class together on the second floor of our high school. Good old Tuley High in Chicago, Illinois. You used to throw you books into my locker since it was just outside the door of the class we had taken together.
I remember you quit high school your senior year...I did not have a crush on you but thought you were a neat guy.
My mother told me one morning as I was going to work that they had a notice of you death in the Sun Times newspaper. I was really saddened. I did not know you well....but you were a warm and funny guy and as I recall tall and gangly as most teens are. I'm sure you would have been a nice looking man.
My husband Walter was in Korea, he was with the 38 Infantry Division 2nd Battalion, Easy Company. He was quite a man, he died in May of 2006 and is buried at Arlington National Cemetery. I just want you to know that I pray for you almost every day and for some reason think of you every now and then.
I thank you for your sacrifice and hope you are at peace.
Sincerely,
Lois Hanson (Bernice)
Letter 126 - Written By:
Mrs. Maria Maldonado
San Marcos
TX
October 24, 2006
PVT DOMINGO J. GONZALES: (MY DEAREST BROTHER)
HOW IRONIC TO BE WRITING YOU EXACTLY 55 YEARS, TO THE DATE THAT YOU LEFT US.
FIRST OF ALL I WANT TO SAY THAT I WAS THIRTEEN YEARS OLD AND I REMEMBER YOU AS VIVID AS IF IT WAS JUST YESTERDAY THAT I LAST SAW YOU.
I HAVE AL WAYS HAD THE HOPES THAT SOMEDAY YOU WOULD COME BACK TO US AND SAY, THAT WAS A MISTAKE. I AM REALLY ALIVE.
MY LIFE AS A GROWN UP HAS BEEN GOOD. AFTER HIGH SCHOOL I WORKED IN GIDDINGS, TEXAS ABOUT 7 YEARS. I GOT TIRED OF THE SMALL TOWN AND NOT MUCH FUTURE, SO I MOVED TO SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS AND GOT A CAREER IN HAIR DRESSING.
WHILE IN SAN ANTONIO, I MET A WONDERFUL YOUNG MAN. WE MARRIED IN 1966 AND HAD 3 BOYS. THEY ARE NOW GROWN MEMAND HAVE GIVEN US 6 BEAUTIFUL GRANCHILDREN. ARMANDO (MY HUBBY) & I ARE NOW RETIRED. WE MOVED TO SAN MARCOS, TEXAS AND BUILT A RETIREMENT HOME. I LOVE LIVING BACK OUT IN COUNTRY.
THERE IS SO MUCH TO TELL YOU OF COURSE WE LOST MOM AND DAD IN THE 80'S. BUT I REALLY DON'T HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT CAUSE I AM SURE, YOU WERE AT THE HEAD OF THE LINE WELCOMING THEM
WE ALSO LOST ANGEL, ENEDINA, AND ZACARIAS. SO YOU ALL MUST HAVE SOME GREAT TIMES. PLEASE PUT IN A GOOD WORD FOR US WITH THE LORD, BECAUSE I KNOW WE NEED ALL THE HELP WE CAN GET.
WE HAVE A GONZALES FAMILY REUNION EACH YEAR IN GIDDINGS. THIS HAS BEEN GOING ON FOR 30 YEARS. ALTHOUGH THE NUMBER OF DECEASED HAS GROWN OVER THE YEARS, WE AL WAYS HAVE A SPECIAL PRAYER FOR ALL OF YOU YOU MAY BE GONE. BUT YOU ARE NEVER FORGOTTEN.
WE ALSO HAVE A SMALL FAMILY GATHERING AMONG THE SIBLINGS YEARLY. IT IS ALSO VERY SPECIAL BECAUSE WE GET TOGETHER AT THE OLD HOMESTEAD. REYES OWNS IT AND ALLOWS US TO HAVE IT THERE FOR THE SAKE OF REMINICING. THERE, WE ALWAYS SHARE STORIES OF WHEN WE WERE GROWING UP, GOOD & BAD TIMES AND OF COURSE YOU ARE ALWAYS INCLUDED. REYES ESPECIALLY DOESN'T REMEMBER YOU, BUT THROUGH OUR STORIES HAS COME TO KNOW YOU WELL.
I HAVE ENJOYED SHARING MY LIFE WITH YOU, BUT I MUST CLOSE AND GIVE THE OTHER SIBLINGS A CHANCE TO DROP YOU A NOTE TOO.
I MISS YOU, I LOVE YOU, AND ONLY GOD KNOWS WHEN WE WILL SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN.
TAKE CARE OF MOM & DAD.
LOVE,
YOUR SISTER ROSARIO
Letter 127 - Written By:
James R. Berry
Iowa City
IA
October 2006
LtCmdr. John Graf U.S. Navy
Dear John,
It's been a long time since April, 1955 when we served together in the Combat Camera Group and last talked. My life has taken many turns, most of which were positive. Mary and I have raised our six children, three boys and three girls, and found that girls are a lot easier to deal with. I keep telling Mary that our boys inherited her ornriness.
We celebrated our 53rd wedding anniversary this past summer and the kids gave us a hugh party. It seems that our lives have put us in touch with numerous friends who honored us with their presence. Do you remember a photographers mate named Clarence Weidman? We remained close friends after discharge. He and his wife lived in Kansas... just a stone's throw from Iowa.
I may have mentioned to you that our family was a true Navy family. My two older brothers served during WW2....one was on a DE and the other flew divebombers off the USS Wasp. Both of them were exposed to a lot of combat. I followed in their footsteps when I enlisted in 1951 during the Korean War and my younger brother became a Navy control tower operator from 1953-57. Old oldest son enlisted in the Navy during the Vietnam War and his son, our grandson, is now a Navy Seabee.
I could go on telling you about my professional career but there are so many more important events happening every day, now.
Rest in peace, John. You are not forgotten.
Respectfully yours,
James R. Berry
Letter 128 - Written By:
David R. and John M. Ewing
Tucson
AZ
Dear Jimmy,
It has been more than fifty years since we all went to war and you made the extreme sacrifice in Vietnam after serving in the Korean War. Your wife, children and brother Claude as well and John and I have remembered you everyday since.
We were all here when you were returned to Tucson two years ago for a final resting place. Our lives pale compared to what you did for us and all Americans! Bless you Captain Wheeler and all your comrades who made the ultimate sacrifice so long ago.
David and John
David R. Ewing, MD MBA and John M. Ewing
Letter 129 - Written By:
John W. Maurer, USMC
Columbus
OH
THE KOREAN WAR VETERANS I HAVE KNOWN IN MY LIFE
HAVE BEEN AN INSPIRATION TO ME. THEY HAVE BEEN
STRONG CONTRIBUTORS TO SOCIETY SINCE THEY MADE
THEIR CONTRIBUTIONS AS SOLDIERS, SAILORS, AIRMEN,
AND MARINES.
THEY WERE A DIFFERENT BREED, MUCH LIKE THOSE
THAT PRECEDED THEM IN SERVICE DURING WORLD WAR
II. THEY ARE AN INSPIRATION TO ALL PATRIOTS WHO
SERVE FOR LOVE OF THEIR COUNTRY.
MILITARY SERVICE, AT ANY TIME IN A COUNTRY'S HISTORY, IS TRULY AN HONORABLE PROFESSION, AND I
SALUTE YOU WHO ARE READING THIS TODAY, YOU WHO
ARE IN ATTENDANCE, AND ESPECIALLY THOSE HEROES
WHO DID NOT RETURN, AND THOSE WHO SUFFERED
WOUNDS TO THEIR BODIES AND MINDS.
MAY THE GOOD LORD PROTECT AND KEEP ALL KOREAN
WAR VETERANS FROM HARM, AND GIVE THEM PEACE.
JOHN MAURER, USMC, COLUMBUS. OHIO
Letter 130 - Written By:
Joe R. Kirchharr
Pensacola
FL
October 27, 2006
Hey Merlin Lowe,
Just thought I would bring you up to speed as to what has been going on in my life since that fateful day June 12, 1951, the day that took your life and 25 of our friends and shipmates.
In February 1953 I met a young lady from Denver, she was in Long Beach visiting her sister. Phil Robinson, who was also
a shipmate of ours introduced us. We married in April 1953 and remain married to this day. We had a son who was born
during my last trip over to Korea. In May of 1954 I was discharged from the Navy and returned home to Pensacola. If my memory serves me right you were from Minnesota.
After working here and there for awhile I got a job with a new Nylon plant here locally and retired in 1985 after 31 years. I started as a Chemical Operator and later moved to the electricial shop, I finished my employment working around the country as Electrician, to keep me busy and out of trouble.
In 1957 we had another son he went on to be an Electrician and a pretty good one. We have four granddaughters
ageing from 25 to twelve. No great grands yet, but I am sure it won't be long.
That about does it for me Merlin, this is just a reminder that you will always be remembered.
Your friend,
Joe
Letter 131 - Written By:
John T. Carrig
Arlington
VA
Edmund C. Roberts Jr. - CO of Company A, 17th Infantry
11 November 2006
Dear Captain Roberts,
This Veterans Day seems like an excellent time to write a few lines to you and bring you up to date on some events of my life.
First, I should remind you that I recall vividly your orders to me on the day that you died. Just before you drove away from our bivouac in Tanyang Pass, you turned the company over to me during your absence.
Three or four hours later during the guerrilla ambush, you were mortally wounded. Before dying, you sent a wounded soldier back with an order directing me to come in strength. I hope you realize that I did my best to follow your commands with the limited resources remaining with me that day.
As a career soldier, I remained in the Army for another dozen or so years. Managed to rotate to the ZI in June 1951 and enjoyed several stateside tours: Ft. Monmouth , Ft. Benjamin Harrison and finally at Ft. Polk. Also, had two more overseas tours, both in France. After retiring, I spent three years working for an American firm in Germany. Having been there during World War II, I was not particularly delighted to spend time there again despite their every effort to make me feel more welcome this time!
Work with military associations, memory tours to Korea and to Europe, writing military history and genealogical research have all taken up much of my time. Believe me, I have been quite busy!
Will try to touch base with you again very soon.
With a sad farewell salute: To one of my best combat leaders.
Lt. John Carrig
Letter 132 - Written By:
Sammy Lee, M.D.
Huntington Beach
CA
25 October 06
To All Americans who kept South Korea free from Communist North Korea
We should all be proud of what our men and women did for freedom. If you have been fortunate enough to visit South Korea within the past few months as I did then you know that you won the war back in 1950 to 1953 when you walked from South to North Korea pushing the enemy back. But it cost us over 50,000 of our fathers, uncles, brothers and sisters and some 2 million South Koreans. They lost their lives (NOT IN VAIN) but their blood fertilized the spirit of freedom that has allowed many to immigrate to our shores and they became responsible legal tax paying naturalized Americans and their children were born free like you and I thanks to our parents who immigrated here many years ago.
If our fellow members of the Armed Forces who are fighting and some have died and are dying in the Middle East could see what our generation has done....then they, too, will know it is worth the pain and agony if the Middle East can rise above the destruction that they see now and do what South Korea has done with their freedom.
As an American of Korean Ancestry whose parents immigrated from Seoul, Korea to California in 1905, and who served as a Major in the U.S. Army Medical Corps, and also represented our U.S. Olympic Team I thank you. Thanks for giving me the freedom to be the best that I could possibly be!
Sammy Lee, M.D.
Letter 133 - Written By:
Myrna Wright
Northfield
MN
October 2006
Dear Brother Richard,
You died in that rocky desolate land of North Korea long ago, and yet I remember you so well. I see you when you were a senior in school, standing, looking in the mirror, combing your hair so meticulously before one of your dates. You probably were going to a movie downtown, seeing something like "She wore a yellow ribbon." But that was when you were 18 years old.
And again, even further back, I see you and Bobby, your twin, on a warm summer day in 1938 when you both were nine years old and I was seven. You're talking to me.
"Come on, Myrnie, we've got a surprise for you."
"What?" I ask. "What kind of surprise?"
But you wouldn't say. "Come on, and walk fast this time, Myrnie."
I followed you both, taking giant steps until I got a pain in my side.
"Are we almost there now?"
"No, only a few more blocks. Don't walk so slow." My brothers were always in a hurry.
We were in a neighborhood north of town and everything looked strange to me. As we rounded a corner, I saw a baseball field. A group of boys were there. There was John, Paulie, and Sleepy from our neighborhood. The rest of the faces were strange.
I was wondering what the heck was going on. We didn't usually play with boys we didn't know. I wasn't on their team. I could catch pretty good, and throw like a boy but I didn't know how to bat with a baseball coming at me.
I sat down on a nearby rock and watched them choose up sides until there wasn't anyone left. Then Dickie said, "Before we start, who wants to throw a few
pitches to Myrnie?" Silence like in church when the preacher says, "And now let us pray."
Then a tall, skinny kid with red hair said, "Yeah, I will."
I walked over to home plate which was a piece of cardboard, and picked up the bat. It was too heavy for me. "Wait a minute Myrnie, take this one," Dickie said.
The bat. It was too heavy for me. "Wait a minute Myrnie, take this one," Dickie said. "It's lighter."
I gave it a couple of swings like I had seen the batters do to warm up, and then I stepped up to the plate. I looked at the pitcher, squinted my eyes as hard as I could. I felt my hands get all sweaty. The ball came down like a bullet. I swung the bat, but the baseball was in the catcher's mitt while I was still swinging.
Then about five of the kids all at once wanted to show me how to swing at the ball. "Keep your eyes on the ball all the time. Swing at it before it crosses the plate."
The ball came slower the next three times but I was still swinging at air. I bit my lip and pressed back a tear. Bobbie said, "Take your time, kid," Then I heard Dickie say, "Come on, Myrnie you can do it."
It was strange. The next ball came like it was in slow motion. And it looked big, like a grapefruit coming straight at me. I swung hard as I could.
Crack!
That ball went up in the air. Not far, but far enough for me. "Yay, for Myrnie," I heard someone yell. After that it, was a breeze. The boys even argued about who was going to pitch to me next.
I sat out the game they played that afternoon. Which was okay with me. I felt like I was a real player and knew next time I played with my girl friends, I would be teaching them how to bat with a baseball.
Well, that's how it was, Dickie. Do you remember?
Love,
Your sister Myrnie
Letter 134 - Written By:
Denver L. Hardesty
Godfrey
IL
In Memory Of PVT. William Raymond Cunningham
RA 15276473 32 Inf. Regt. Inf. Div.
North Korea MIA 12/02/1950
October 30, 2006
Uncle Billy:
You may not remember me, but I remember you. I couldn 't wait for your visits to our house when I was a child. When Mother would tell us that Billy was coming, we would get so excited we could hardly contain ourselves. I can remember us sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for mother to finish cooking supper and you would entertain us children with a simple little trick you would do. You would light up a Lucky Strike cigarette and burn a little hole in the cellophane of the cigarette pack and blow smoke into the hole and then you would tap it with your finger and make the little smoke rings come out.
This isn't much of a memory, but this is how I always think of you. I was too young to understand what it meant, when we were told that you were missing. I remember being sad that you wouldn't be coming to visit anymore. As I grew older I realized what MIA really meant. It meant that a part of our family wasn 't there anymore. You weren't forgotten, you just weren 't there. As the years past and we grew older and other wars were fought and many others were "missing" I would always think of you and wonder if you were going to come home someday. I still wonder?
Some of us are gone now and all of us are getting older, but you will always be Uncle Billy to me and still as you were when you left us the last time. I hope wherever you are that your world is a better and safer place and no more families will have to write a letter like this, ever again. May God Bless you and hold you in the palm of His hand and when I get there you can make some smoke rings for me.
Your Nephew
Denny
Letter 135 - Written By:
Denver L. Hardesty With Sister Clarice
Godfrey
IL
In Memory Of PVT. William Raymond Cunningham
RA 15276473 32 Inf. Regt. Inf. Div.
North Korea MIA 12/02/1950
October 30, 2006
Dear Billy Ray,
The name is William Raymond Cunningham, but you will always be Billy Ray to me. We had very little time together in years past, because of age difference. Whether you are somewhere with us or have passed from us, you are in my thoughts and a picture in my heart. Not knowing your status, I can hope that some day you will return to us. Until that time of certainty the door is always open to you. May God bless you either here or in the hereafter,
My love is always with you.
Your loving sister,
Clarice
Letter 136 - Written By:
Dorothy Cook
Paris
TN
Dear Sir or Madam:
In the spring of 1951 the senior class of Central High was having a discussion on The Korean Conflict. Two young men there who were half brothers the older Thomas Garland Brown, and Walter Cowan Jr. Garland became agitated because no one in his class seemed to support his views. Garland stormed out of the classroom. The teacher and some other young men including his half brother tried to talk him into coming back, to no avail, Garland a very troubled young man three years earlier had lost his mother who committed suicide, he left school without graduating.
Garland moped around for about a month and my father Algia Cook, talked him into joining the military.
On July 5th, 1951 Corporal Thomas Garland Brown of the 21st Infantry Regiment, 24th, Infantry Division was killed in action while fighting the enemy in North Korea. The news came later to his stepfather and his 14 year old sister Merlean. Garland was 19 year old.
On the day of his funeral at Cedar Hill Missionary Baptist Church which is about eight miles out of Paris, Browns' half brother Walter Cowan was walking around town hoping to find someone he could catch a ride to the funeral with he had almost given up hope when Harold Hawkins who owned a taxi service came by and stopped to inquire as to why he was not at his brother's funeral? I don't have a ride. Harold put him in a Taxi and sent him to the church in time for the services. Garland was awarded The Purple Heart posthumously.
Walter Cowan Jr. who still lives here in Paris, Tennessee left for Korea the day after his brother's funeral.
There have been no photos found of Thomas Garland Brown past the age of 14 not even the military, I have written and inquired, it seems his records were among the ones destroyed in the 1973 fire at the record center in St. Louis, MO.
If there is anyone who served with Thomas Garland Brown or has a photo of him please give me a call at (1-800-750-6866) Ext: 207: Ret. SSG Dorothy Cook or Walter Cowan Jr. 729 Dumas St. Paris, TN 38242.
Sincererly,
Dorothy Cook
Letter 137 - Written By:
Mary Castaldi
Laguna Niguel
CA
In Honor of 1st Lt. Bert W. Justus - POW 2/13/51
From His Daughter Mary
WWII called out to him
And that was all it took
But he was there when I was born
I saw my baby book.
When I was six he left again
He looked into my eyes
"I'll be back with hula skirts"
And then he said good-bye.
His uniform was crisp and green
He held me in his arms
I knew he wasn't coming back
No Dad, no skirts, no charms.
And though I was a little girl
I cried upon his shoulder
I knew deep down this was good bye
He wasn't getting older.
I felt so old, so wise that day
I still can feel the shame.
The family gathered round and played
I thought they were insane.
Twas Christmas day and he was gone
Korea was the name
Two months later MIA
No words can share the pain.
Fifty years have come and gone
Since we received the letter
He never came back home to us
It never does get better.
I need to tell the story
Because old men forget.
It's not just soldiers that we lose
their families are bereft.
They hold a family update
To pacify our hurt
And then they send more babies
Out to die on foreign dirt.
It's not that I'm a pacifist
I'm not against all war
But I'm for talk and talk and talk
And then you talk some more.
The wars may be inevitable
And we will be prepared
But war should be the last resort
So little girls are spared.
Letter 138 - Written By:
Ron Freeman
Punta Gorda
FL
24 October 2006
Major Billy E. Fritts
17th Inf. Reg't
7th Inf. Div.
Sokkogae NK
I addressed this to you at your last known address. I tried to find your family in North Carolina to tell them how you died but to no avail. Your friends and family can read about it in Bill McWilliams marvelous book called "On Hallowed Ground" he tells about your last days and great service to all of us there. Lt. Barry was also hit by the same shell and was very seriously wounded.
Major, we didn't talk very much as we were all busy that afternoon, but I could see that you were in the prime of your life and had many miles to go before you stopped. You deserve your DSC.
God bless yo and be with you always.
Lt. Ron Freeman
48th FA BN
32nd Inf. Regt.
Sokkagae NK
Letter 139 - Written By:
Elvin R. McIntosh
Cypress
CA
24 October 2006
LETTER TO THE MISSING GIMLETS OF COMPANY M 21st INFANTRY REGIMENT, 24th INFANTRY DIVISION
WHO WENT DOWN THE ROAD TO BLUFF TURNED THE CORNER AND LANDED INTO A FIGHT THAT SOME CALLED A POLICE ACTION.
FOURTEEN WEEKS PRIOR TO THIS KOREAN MESS I WAS DISCHARGED AND LOOKING FORWARD TO LETTERS FROM THOSE I WAS CLOSE WITH AND KNOWING THAT IN THE FUTURE WE WOULD MEET AGAIN AND PARTY IT UP AS WE HAD DONE SO MANY TIMES IN KUMAMOTO. I EVEN JOINED THE RESERVES IN CASE I MIGHT RETURN TO THE SERVICE AT A LATER DATE. MY UNIT WAS NEVER CALLED UP TO JOIN THE MESS THAT YOU ENDED UP IN.
You will never know that forty plus years later that it was still not called a war.
You will never know that those who came home would be bitter and angry for the non-support of the GREATEST nation in the world's failure to secure a peaceful end and freedom for those in need.
You will never know that some of you are part of over eight thousand GI's not accounted for.
You will never know that for over three years I have searched and found no record of you going to Korea or leaving Korea even though your signatures are on the payroll records of JUNE 30. 1950.
Where ever you are MY FRIENDS I thank you for our quality of life we enjoy this day and want you to know that it would be a great deal better if all of you and everyone still there were here on home where they belong.
In 1948 I spent the year with the 6th Div. MP Platoon Pusan, Korea and it was no picnic or place to be then, either.
CPL Elvin Ralph McIntosh
RA 19302584 U.S. Army 1947 - 1950
U.S. Army Reserves 1950 - 1953
Letter 140 - Written By:
Robert L. Taggart
Pataskala
OH
To: PFC Edward John Taggart
Company I, 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines, 1st Marine Division
22 February 1933 21 July 1952
Dear Ed,
Well my brother, it only took me fifteen years to find you but I finally did. I didn't even know I had a half brother and sister until 1988 and it took me fifteen years of research to find you only to learn that the Korean War had claimed you in your 19th year of life. I know that much of what I will tell you in this letter you already know but it is my only chance to talk to you except perhaps in prayer. We miss you and wish you had had the chance to be a part of our lives.
There has been great joy and great sadness in the family over the last several years. My reunion with your sister was bitter sweet but I think we are friends now. The loss of her companion of twenty years and the loss of her daughter all in the same month of last year wore heavily on her spirit but the return of her granddaughter who had been put up for adoption many years ago thrills us all.
I have only one request to make of you. Please tell our Dad that I love him. He died when I was only two and a half years old so I never got to know him. We thank for your sacrifice in our behalf and some day we will meet one another face to face where there will be no more war, pain or death.
Your brother in arms
SFC (Ret) Robert L. Taggart
Vietnam Veteran 1969 - 1970
Letter 141 - Written By:
Phyl (Hunt)
Syracuse
NY
P.F.C Frederick S. Hunt
1074411 U.S.M.C.
December 3rd, 1950
In Korea
October 2006
Dear Fred,
It's been so any years but I still miss you and remember the good times we had as kids and the plans we had that we could never accomplish.
Sorry you never got to meet my husband of forty seven years. And to meet my kids and share in all their lives and families.
I've tried to get you home to lay next to Mom and Dad. But haven't managed to accomplish that task. Forgive me. Just wanted a closing but have to be content knowing you are with them in heaven. Of course our brother has joined you too and my beloved husband.My love is with you all.
It is so lonely for us here without you.
Until we meet again.
Your sister with all my love.
Phyl (Hunt)
Letter 142 - Written By:
Helaine S. Golann
Newton
MA
November 1, 2006
Dear Bob,
I want you to know that you are remembered, and always will be. Nine years ago today, you were honored in our hometown. Your name was finally engraved on the township monument, and the mayor named that day, November 11, 1998, Robert L. Knapp Day, in your honor. It happened more than 40 years later than it should have, partly because about a third of the Korean War records including yours were destroyed by fire, and we all kept searching for your other records in the wrong places.
I'd just turned five when you left for Korea. When I cried that I wanted my big brother back, Daddy explained that you'd just been working on our family farm in exchange for room and board, and were not "really" my brother. I don't think I believed him. I knew you were my brother, but my child's memories were not helpful in the search for official records.
Your hands were huge, I'm sure, or perhaps it's just that I was small. I know I loved to watch those hands stroking milk from a cow, steering a tractor, holding a newborn kitten, lifting a full milk pail. Lifting me! I'd fly through the air in those hands, giggling wildly or silently proud of my speed and altitude. I'd slide down steep haystacks knowing your hands would catch me. In your hands I was fearless.
I took care of our kittens after you left for Korea, the same way we'd protected them together. Remember how we always managed to be the first to find litters of newborns and how we kept them hidden? If they were in the loft, we made sure that we were the ones to climb up to throw the hay down, and if they were in another coop we made sure we ran all errands that led there. We knew that if Daddy found them, eyes still closed, ears plastered to their heads like little rats, he would throw them in a burlap sack along with a heavy rock and lower it into the water of the drainage ditch until they stopped squirming. But we also knew that if we could keep them hidden until they were wide-eyed, perky eared, and playful, he¹d no longer have the heart to kill them. Soon they¹d join the others who lined up waiting for you to squirt milk into their mouths right from the teats of the cows.
When I was frightened at night, you made me feel safe. But then you told me you were scared too, scared of having to fight in a war. I begged you not to go. But you told me it was the only way you¹d ever "have a life of your own." I couldn¹t imagine what that meant. You said your job would be to protect me and my family and "our way of life." I pictured you standing at the end of our driveway with your arms spread wide like a crossing guard I had seen at Butch¹s school. You would not let the bad people from the country in the newsreels steal our cows and chickens.
But when you said Korea was on the other side of the world, it made no sense. How could you protect us from there? The kittens and I needed your protection at home! Often you stepped between Butch and me, taking the blows that made me cry as if they were only a gentle knocking on the door of your chest. You'd kneel and catch his hands in yours.
"Enough," you'd say. Suddenly, I can hear your voice again.
"Enough." It was such a firm, calm voice. It's hard to believe that you couldn't have been more than 18, and Butch, whose fists were so frightening to me, could not have been more than eight.
When Daddy read the Sunday funnies, you were just a kid like me. I'd huddle in his lap with you and Butch pressed in close on either side. You loved Superman, Popeye and Little Abner, especially when the episode was about Abner's hero, Fearless Fosdick.
But I was jealous of you too. There were only four chairs at our kitchen table and you filled one of them. I had to sit in a high chair. When I kicked hard to push through the tight leg openings, I was not sorry if my foot happened to whack you. You also had a room and a bed while I slept in a cramped crib in Butch's room. Worst of all, I had to ride in the back of the pickup truck with dust and dog slobber coating my face and hair, because there was room for only four people in the cab.
For years I relived saying goodbye to you. You kissed Mommy on the check, thanking her for all the good meals she'd served you, and shook my father¹s and Butch¹s hands. When you came to the side of the truck to pet Skipper and hug me, I hugged you back, but as soon as you started walking away, I climbed down to take MY place on the seat in the cab.
I was confused when you suddenly rushed back. Then, when you gathered me in your arms, I realized you¹d thought I¹d jumped down to chase you. I went hot and prickly with shame. My tears mixed with yours and I became the one who couldn't let go. It felt almost as if passed something from you to me that your tears dried as mine increased.
You placed me very gently back in the truckbed so we were eye to eye. You winked as you reminded me to take care of the kittens. You were suddenly so calm and grown-up. I like to think now that it had somehow strengthened you to believe I'd been chasing and crying for you. I tell myself that what you thought was more important than my selfish truth.
I stayed where you put me and watched as you turned to wave one last time. You were smiling again and I smiled back and lifted Skipper's paw in a pretend wave. Our smiles widened together before you turned away and the truck picked up speed.
I sat at the table for dinner that night, but couldn¹t choke down my food, and Mommy tucked me into your bed that night but it was too big. I buried my face in your pillow, filled myself with your smell and felt I'd burst. Finally, I climbed back into my old cramped crib.
My family teased me when they heard where I¹d slept, but the next night they put me in the crib while Daddy repainted your room. He first guided my hand to paint part of the door. The color was pink and I loved it, but it didn't feel right. I asked him if you¹d like your room pink when you came back, but he said the room was all mine. He said you wouldn't be living with us anymore, but I didn¹t believe him. You'd promised to come back.
When the telegram came, my father read it, handed it to my mother and walked out the door. Mommy dropped it on the table, and pressed her arms into her belly as if she had a stomachache. I moved towards her, but she waved me away so I followed Daddy outside. He'd gone back to work in the milk house. I watched the hard scrubbing he was giving the milking machine, and felt confused by the tears dripping off his chin. Remembering the pink paint, I wondered how he'd known that you weren't coming back and why he was crying if he'd known all along.
It wasn't until years later that I read that telegram myself. I was on a vacation from college and already older than you¹d been when you died. It was among piles of old magazines and papers my mother had put out in one of our sheds to reduce the clutter in the house. The thin yellow telegram paper was already browning around the edges and had the fragile feeling of old books and newspapers.
THE SECRETARY OF THE ARMY HAS ASKED ME TO EXPRESS HIS DEEP REGRET THAT YOUR FRIEND CORPORAL ROBERT L. KNAPP DIED OF WOUNDS IN KOREA 18 FEBRUARY 1951. DATE WOUNDS RECEIVED UNREPORTED. HE WAS PREVIOUSLY RETURNED TO DUTY 15 OCTOBER 1950 FROM WOUNDS RECEIVED 11 SEPTEMBER 1950= EDWARD F WITSELL MAJOR GENERAL USA THE ADJUTANT GENERAL OF THE ARMY=
For the next 30 years or so, I kept that telegram in my "treasures" box along with ticket stubs from my first date, my grandmother's Eastern star, and the tags my dog was wearing when he was shot for trespassing. In the end, it became the evidence we needed to prove that you'd listed us as your next of kin, that you'd been part of our family, part of our community and that you deserved a place on the township monument.
Still later I found the rest of your original family through the Korean War Project Website. Your little brother, Johnny, followed you to Korea, returned to attend college on the GI bill, and become a teacher. Both he and your sister, Mary, are doing well and have named children and grandchildren after you. And although I'm now the only living member in the family I once thought was yours, all the people who honored you, at the unveiling of the monument on the day named for you, felt like our extended family. When I looked around at them that day, some were smiling, some were crying, and some, like me, were doing both. We were all remembering you.
Love always from your sister,
Laney
Letter 143 - Written By:
Arlene Calpino
Springfield
IL
November 1, 2006
Lt. James J. Anderle, Jr. 36th Fighter Bomb Sqdn 8th Fighter Bomb Group - MIA
This letter is written in memory of Lt. James. J. Anderle, Jr., who was lost on a mission in Korea in September 1950. He was 26 years old. No remains have been found to date. This letter is written by his brothers' widow.
I never met you Jimmy. I married your brother Gus on October 4th, 1957. I wish you could have been Best Man that day.
We had a very happy marriage, having four wonderful children. Our first son is named James John Anderle, III, after you and your father.
I got along very well with your family, your Mom and Dad were good to me and your sister Katy became one of my best friends. She was a special lady who died of cancer two years ago. She had eight children; six girls and two boys.
She told me once that she thought she had four children of her own, Gus and I had four children, and then she had the four you didnt have.
Through the years I heard many interesting stories of your childhood and fun times you had with Gus and Katy.
Your Mother suffered greatly when you were lost, she never recovered and was on medication the rest of her life.
We have many things that remind us of you; photos, including ones you took during WWII and Korea, paintings on silk you sent home, the beautiful, ornate set of dishes you sent your Mother that are now in possession of my daughter Jennifer, and especially we have your medals, including the Purple Heart.
You are remembered by all your large family, cousins Ray and Otto remember you well and were instrumental in getting your name on this memorial after an address glitch left it off. Your sister Katy left DNA samples in case your remains are ever found.
Your brother Gus died too young at age 43 and is missed by all to this day.
We attend the services on Veterans Day and pray for you and weep during the playing of Taps. You are in the genealogy of the family and will be remembered by all the generations to follow.
May God bless all members of the military, past and present who serve our nation to insure our freedom and protect our great country.
I am proud and pleased to contribute to this tribute today. I wish I had known you, Jimmy.
Letter 144 - Written By:
Dee Ann Lindsey
Pulaski
VA
November 5, 2006
To:Cpl. Freeman Lindsey - 57th Field Artillery Bn MIA Chosin Reservoir
To the Uncle I Never Knew....
You were 19....I had not been born.
Your name was Freeman...Free man...all the U.S. stands for....
My dad said you were the best of the eight sons....
He wanted to find you and took up a gun....
But it was not to be, .
And we remained a "lost family.".
Dad joined the 82nd Airborne and his mother begged the army not to take her boys to war any more...World War II had taken its mental toll on her firstborn.
Korea claimed the life of her third born..
Korea was a cold barren land that claimed the lives of so many. Today it is more like Times Square and so very busy....
Yet the land never yields up the remains of Freeman who the family called Corky. .
I feel that foreign soil still holds a part of me....
My dad met my mother while on leave, and I and my sister were to be..
But there are so many ironies of life... and the questions unanswered do cause some strife. .
Would I be here today if you had lived...had you not been captured, had you not been killed?.
Would my dad have remained an Indiana farm boy never knowing Virginia hills.....
Never meeting my mother....all because of a brother?.
Was your death the reason I have life?.
And the hard part to understand today is that there is still so much Korean strife. .
I honor and respect all veterans and those who wear the U.S. military uniforms of the past and present....
Respectfully,
Dee Ann Lindsey, Pulaski Virginia.
Niece of Cpl. Freeman Lindsey (POW-KIA) Purple Heart
Recipient.....Presidential Unit Citation, Prisoner of War
Medal...Korean Campaign Medal, United Nations Medal
Letter 145 - Written By:
Anthony Perugini
November 5, 2006
Sgt. Thomas Perugini USMC, Kia March 29 1953 Vegas Hill Korea.
We Will Always Love You And Miss You.
Anthony And Rosalie Perugini
Letter 146 - Written By:
Patrick Sbarra Sr.
Capemay Point
NJ
November 5, 2006
To: David Hallahn, Edmund Gilligan, Lawrence Lasante, to Lt. Baker, to Fred Bennet.
To: All of those who died in battle who served with "G" Company, 180th Inf. Reg., 45th Thunderbird Div.
I and all who returned say how sorry we have been all of these years knowing that you "did not make it back" home to the good ol' USA.
We have never stopped thinking of all of you and those who we never met in Korea who were killed there. Of course, we have spent many sleepless nights and near auto accidents when our minds wandered off thinking about the you and the battles in Korea.
I have always participated in in the activities and parades of Veterans Organizations in your memory. All of you will never die as you live in the minds and hearts of millions of soldiers from every Military Branch.
I always think about that you were not able to come home, get married, have children and grandchildren, visit the shore, go sailing, skiing, watch a Baseball Worlds Series or the Super Bowl, go on a picnic whith your children and watch them grow up.
Many of you would have gone to college and became doctors, lawyers, accountants, engineers or became the tradesmen of the building and repair industries or started your own little business or Business Empire.
I did all of that for you and in your memory since you were not able to do it yourself.
After the Battle of T-Bone Hill in June of 1952, many of you
were killed and when we returned back to our line (those who were left) the food jeep arived, as we had not eaten since the night before, NONE OF US HAD GONE THROUGH THE CHOW LINE. WE COULD NOT EAT A THING. WE WERE AT A WAKE.
Word got back quickly to the rear and a Chaplain arrived and held a service and said to us, "Do not feel so sad, your comrades are probably up in Heaven right now laughing at you. We all hoped that it was true.
So long for now my dear Comrades in Battle, until we see you again.
Pat Sbarra Sr.
Letter 147 - Written By:
Harold Worth
London
November 5, 2006
To: Kenneth .L. Ellison. USMC
Hi Ken,
A Few Words From Your Old Royal Marine Friend Harry. Of Subic Bay Days.
Well Ken, I Have Had A Pretty Fair Life Since Those Far Off Days. Lots Of Highs. One In Meeting You, I Married . Had A Son And Daughter. I Visited The USA. A Number Of Times. Business And Pleasure.
Sad We Could Not Get To Meet. Then, Sadly Korea Ended That Possibility.
Ken, I Will Always Remember You As One Of The Nicest Chaps I Met. So, Ken, My Old, Pal God Rest You. And Sleep Well.
I Will Not Forget. Sayonara.... Harry Worth, Ex R.M.
Letter 148 - Written By:
Robert Saxon
Utica
MI
To my brother
Sgt. Steve Podplesky, K.I.A. August 2, 1950
1st Cavalry Division, R.A.133-08-410, Company C, 1st Battalion, 8th Cavalry Regiment (infantry), A.P.O. 201, Postmaster, San Francisco, California
In the last fifty six years, three months, one week, and two days your maverick disposition has not been forgotten by your family, relatives, and friends. When you are spoken about by those who knew you, there's always an accolade to compliment you as a friend in need and a friend indeed. You never hesitated to assist a person needing help, or leading the way when the group was unsure about what direction might be best for them
It was no surprise to those who knew you that you finished one of the top three men of your Leadership Class at Camp McGill in Japan. All who knew you proclaimed your demise was a tragic loss of talent that had great potential for achievement in dimensions untold. Your talents and wit astounded your school teachers to the point where they would lament your loss of life, as a casualty of war, deeply distressing.
Many guys from home enlisted on your behalf out respect for you; they felt that "service" on your behalf was much more valuable than the usual gestures of respect. I joined the Army on December 26, 1951 thru December 8, 1954 in my usual manner; following your foot steps. I still recall our days walking home from school when you would push me to the rear-to make me follow you. The dominance you always displayed makes me feel dwarfed even today. Your short life is indelibly engrained in my mind to the point that I still get dreams about your home coming. I look forward to the day that we might meet in that big "Mess Hall In The Sky". I'm certain that you're not lonely up there in that "Big Mess Hall In The Sky"; because, up there, there are no "Unknown Soldiers" only young and old soldiers proud of the legacy they left for freedom loving people enjoying democracy and pursuing a life they can enjoy.
Your life, to me, is like the War you fought, "never ending", perhaps some day the conflict will end and your contribution as well as all others who have contributed to the reunification of the Republic of Korea will not have been in vain. It's our wish that your "beacon" will shine on all freedom loving people throughout the World and the Universe. Have fun up there and save a place for me. Father time will get all of us eventually.
Sincerely, Steve's little brother
Bob R.A.134-10-800
P.S.
It gives me great pleasure to acknowledge the "Korean War Project", and staff members, for the outstanding performance of dedicated service to all who subscribe and contribute to its continuing support of American service men and women. America is blessed with an abundance of patriots like Hal and Ted Barker who promote our way of life at home and abroad.
Our service men and women serving in the Persian Gulf are to be recognized for their super dedication of time and talent to establishing democracy there. We must remember that they are all volunteers serving multiple tours of duty enabling life to go uninterrupted for many Americans.
Letter 149 - Written By:
Donald C. Prater
Tempe
AZ
Dear Bill and Dear Bob,
I have chosen to write just one letter to the two of you tonight, instead of the traditional individual letters. This is being done because we all knew each other so well, shared in so many boyhood activities together, graduated from high school together, and entered the military services at the same time. You two were adventurers and the spark of Americanism from WWII still burned brightly in both your souls. You chose the U.S. Army to pursue your adventures. I chose the U.S. Air Force to pursue a career as a pilot. My father's oldest brother had been a Marine pilot in WWI, and as you remember, this was always my ambition.
The fortunes of war did not favor either of you. Neither of you came home from Korea. The letters from the War Department told your mothers that you were "killed in action" in a combat situation in Korea. Neither of you were more than twenty at the time.
My Air Force career did not materialize as had been expected. I was not accepted for pilot training, and ended up as a Military Policeman for the four year tour, all state-side; no combat.
You, my dear and revered friends, both had so much enthusiasm in your character; so much ambition; and so much patriotism for our country. Those of us who knew you best, rest assured that you served honorably and valiantly. You both played all our teenage games with one objective: to win. There can be no comparison between a game and warfare; however it was your nature to win, and I know you gave all you had in you to your military units for our cause there in Korea.
I am truly sorry we did not have an opportunity to know each other as adult men, as fathers, as professionals in our fields. Many times my mind has wondered "why" are some blessed, and "why" do some have to die so young, never having experienced the joys of family and children, and success in life.
Possibly there is no answer to this question, but we will forever remember that you two faced the challenge when confronted, and made the world a better place for those of us who survived.
You both were solid, courageous Americans, and I am proud to have been your friend for the years that we shared. Surely you both are with our Heavenly Father in his Kingdom that will never end.
Your friend always,
Don
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