LETTERS 75 to 99
Letter 75 - Written By:
Oscar Creasy
Fredericksburg
VA
26 Oct 2006
Eugene J. Conis, Killed in Action
Fluvanna County, Virginia
Dear Jack,
This is from your boyhood friend Oscar K. Creasy (Lobster) as your Dad would call me, much has gone by the way side sense you left us in 1953, over there in Korea.
As you know I was over there the same time as you. I was stationed at Teague with the 8th Ftr Bomber Squadron, giving you fellows air support with our F-84's.
I wound up in the hospital and shipped back home to be repaired, and decided to return for another go round in 54/55.
I was at your funeral before I returned to Korea. Your Dad didn't live very long after he got the news you had been killed.
I got out of the Air Force in 1956, worked with Jim (J.L.) in Washington D.C. driving steer cars for a couple years, got married (wife had 4 kids) then we had one , named him after me, was married 42 yrs before she died. Now I am remarried and have a 19 month old granddaughter, she is my pride and joy.
J.l. and Madge had to sell the house in Falls Church and move to Garner N.C. where he is in a nursing home. His leg's have given out on him.
Eddie and Mike take very good care of your sister. All the rest of the family except James and Madge have passed, but I guess you know that by now as they are up there with you.
I have lost 3 of my sisters Edna, Bernice, and Lottie. The rest of us are doing fair, for the age we have obtained
If you were here we could have that beer we talked about, before you left for Korea. I would like to know what it would be like if we could swap lie's like we use to do.
You take care and pass on my regard’s to all the old folk's WE miss all of you.
GOD'S SPEED TO YOU,
Oscar (Lobster) Creasy
Letter 76 - Written By:
Steve Alves
Hobbs
NM
This letter is written in remembrance of my father William Lux Alves II. He served in the Marine Corp. on the Front lines during the Korean War. He passed away in October of 2000.
Many family values that I hold dear, come directly from my father. Many of these values come from the time he spent in the Marine Corp. Values such as doing the best I can at whatever task I choose to undertake. Never be a quitter. Cherish my freedoms and each sunrise. To give every possible ounce of your time and love to your family, for they are the greatest investments of life. There are many others I could list but I'll keep it simple.
Of the few stories that he would tell about the War, there is one that I would like to share with you, for I know that if he were here today he would like to have this story read at the Memorial on Veterans Day. Not for himself, but for a fellow Marine he knew only by the name of Red.
During a Campaign his unit was taking heavy artillery fire. As he was going through the trench to help strengthen the left flank, he came upon a fellow Marine that was lying in the bottom of the trench that had just taken a direct hit from a shell. There were several Marines lying dead in the trench, and as the men were going through they were stepping on them and tripping over them. Red was lying their trying to hold his intestines in. As my father came upon him he recognized him and said, Red is that you? To which Red replied, yea Willy it's me, just go on and don't worry about me. My father then told him that he was going to help move him out of the way so no more men would be stepping on him. As he went to take hold of him Red looked up at him with tears in his eyes and asked dad if he thought he might make it through this one. My dad looked straight into his eyes and told him " It don't look to good for you Red, your tore up really bad. You probably won't make it." My father did not want to lie to him, he told it like it was. He knew Red was dying and Red also knew he was dying.
The response that Red gave came totally unexpected to my father. Red replied, " Willy, for this we are Marines." Those word's chilled my father clear to the bone.
Red didn't cry out for his mother. He didn't ask anyone to tell his wife and children that he loved them. He was just thankful that he was able serve his country and to give his all to the cause of freedom.
My father then proceeded to take out his knife and started to dig out an opening in the side of the trench to place Red inside and to make him as comfortable as possible. Another Marine saw what he was doing and helped with the digging. After they placed him inside the opening they went on their way, never to see Red again.
My father only had one regret from the war (if you could possible have one, of War) that he never knew his real name and that he didn't get his dog tag number.
My dad was never able to write a letter to Red's family to tell of the Patriotic devotion he had for his Country. Was Red's mother and father still alive, was he married, did he have children, my dad was never able to find out. He did know that he was someone's Son, and it was a tragic shame that his family never got to know how he died and to here of his last words on this Earth.
Dad never forgot those words. He lived by them, and he shared the story with his friends. When it came time to order my Fathers G I Marker for his grave, I had those words engraved on his Marker. I believe that I did him proud to know that those words will never go silent. It's as if when ever some one just in passing reads those words out loud or silently to themselves, a voice of an unknown Soldier still speaks from the bottom of a trench of long ago.
On this Veterans Day I want to say Thanks Dad, I Love you. To Red and his family, your words Red - FOR THIS WE ARE MARINES - will not go silent. They deserve to be heard. God Bless to all.
Steve Alves.
Letter 77 - Written By:
Mamie Dew
October 26, 2006
From Mamie Dew, 96 years of age
November 30, 2006 will mark the 20,440th day that my son went missing in Korea.
For many years each day brought new hope that perhaps Daniel Edward Banks was merely lost in the vast fighting and confusion.
Later days brought hope that he had been captured and was indeed still alive.
My hope was that our land of freedom would now free my son. I am 96 years old and I refuse to leave the home my sons life bought for me. I cling to the hope that by some miracle he would come home. I know there is little chance he would, but until you know for sure- even if it is 56 years later, I am living proof that a mother never gives up hope.
My present hope is that my son would be identified through DNA and I could put him to rest in my home state of South Carolina. The mounting tensions with Korea are like a waking giant and water to the embers I have left smoldering for a hope of one day knowing what happened to my only child.
I have seen many wonderful things, many terrible things, and many things change in my 96 years. The only thing left that I want to see is the face of my son and know what happened to him. Only God can give you true hope. I have wished on these things for all of these years, but I know God will show me the truth …He is the only true hope.
With memorials and ceremonies we honor what our soldiers gave. I cherish my mother’s pin.
It may be just a pin, but it is so much more to me. These memorials are important to remember.
With each passing day the hurt has never diminished and the hope has never gone away.
One more day, one more hour, one more minute -till my last breath I will never give up hope.
Mrs. Mamie Dew
Letter 78 - Written By:
Denny Navle
Kent
WA
Sgt Howard Marble
Howard, this is your old buddy, shelter half partner, liberty partner in the Mediterranean and also famous in Camp LeJuene for working nights in the 4th Area Slopshute. I frequently read your remarks in the photo album I kept during our Med Cruise. Have had very little contact with any one in our platoon with the exception of Larry Keenan. Larry and I were best man for each other back in the 50's. Had no contact for approximately 45 years but found his tel number on the internet so called him in Florida. Must have been too much of a shock because I think he died shortly afterward, possibly that same day.
Fortunately I am still alive, married and in a couple weeks my 12th grandchild will be born. Found a site on the internet that lists killed in action. I left a note for you as did Glaston Pool. Do you remember him? I also left a message under Owen Walgamotte who was killed the same day you were. I even remember your home town Swartz Creek Michigan. I never returned to live in my home town, Wyalusing, Pa and now live near Seattle, Washington.
Howard you were a great Marine and squad leader and I assume you are still busy guarding the streets of Heaven with many other of our former comrades.
Denny Navle
Letter 79 - Written By:
Robert Hunt
Queen Creek
AZ
October 27, 2006
I haven't forgotten:
If it was not for my bad health, I would be on the front row with honors at the Korean memorial to give thanks.
All these years seem like it was yesterday when I was there that place that I call Hell and back.
Each year on October 23,1968 anniversary I do take my special moment to remember the young man that was next to me inside the DMZ, David Young.
We both were young and full of Tomato juice and thinking nothing would ever happen to the both of us, but in a heart beat everything changed.
Before I went to Korea I use to tell my mother I would come back in a pine box, and the hurt in her eyes I will never forget for a moment of saying that I thought it would be a walk in the park and better their than in Vietnam, come back home or stay for another tour in the army. But whatever, I wanted to make it my home.
My company commander in basic training told us in the meeting room, some of you will die, some will get a scratch and some of you will get wounded pretty bad and then some of you will go home without a scratch. Now for him saying that I poked the guy next to me a said he full of crap that will never happen to me. I wonder how many others said that same thing. How wrong I was, and the truth never hurts.
Robert Hunt
Queen Creek, AZ 85242
Letter 80 - Written By:
Florence (Hill) Waldron
Sanger
CA
October 25, 2006
My brother, George T. Hill enlisted in the army at age 17. On July 15, 1950 he had his 18th birthday. August 11, 1950 he was reported missing in action in Korea.
George always had time for his pesky younger sister. He took me with him to deliver newspapers and never minded me hanging out with him and any of his friends (male or female).
I married Bruce Waldron in 1963 and we have four children and four grandchildren. Around 1991, my mother gave me a box of George's belongings that had been sent to her from Korea after George was declared MIA. The box had never been opened. Now that I had George's social security number and his Army serial number Bruce and I began our search for information about George.
In a spare bedroom that is reserved for our grandchildren, we have a shelf with George's picture, his medals and a book with news articles. The children have all come to know George through these items. I wear two bracelets every day. One for our current war hero's and one that says "Until they all come home".
My car has three stickers on the back: "Freedom Is Not Free", "I Remember Korea", and "MIA/POW". These items bring questions from people and give me a way to inform others about the effort to bring all MIA's home.
George, you will always live with me in my heart!
Florence (Hill) Waldron
Letter 81 - Written By:
Richard (Dick) Fockler
Lapeer
MN
October 29, 2006
C Company, 23rd Infantry Regiment, 2nd ID
Hal,
Every one in my squad was lost in the Twin Tunnels Patrol Ambush although the news was years in coming.
Rudolph M Scateni:
Twenty years old,married and father of a daughter was the person that I remember best.I met his wife and his daughter for a few brief moments in 1952.
His wife was doing well in her place of employment and the two of them were living with her parents so they were not suffering hardships but it is my hope that Mrs. Scateni found someone whom she could find to be as much of an admirable companion as she told me that Rudi had been.
From what I saw of her I believe that she deserved the best. The same for her charming little daughter. Neither of these ladies could carry on the Scateni name but let us hope that their lives were a tribute to this man whom I knew so briefly but still think so highly of after more than fifty years.
Clement l. Pietrasiewicz:
Twenty years old at the time and my good friend during the week we were acquainted with one another. The Chinese must have abused you terribly for such a formidable physical specimen like you to have died in captivity.
No one will ever know and thus no one will ever have to pay for that outrage. I remember so well your brushing the snow off your clothing when we were captured and saying" I was just waiting to see what you would do " while the Chinese disarmed us.
So strange it is that my having a broken leg was the element that saved my life since the Chinese did not choose to take me along with them when they pulled out.
I am so sorry that all of those great years of your life were never used.
Robert Walsh:
Twenty five years old at the time. Married. We had such a brief acquaintanceship for those few hours on 1-29-51.
You were occupying this strategic place when I found you and between the two of us we accounted for many of the enemy before we joined by the others and decided to vacate the position. We became separated after that and the casualty lists show that you became KIA.
I am very sorry,my friend.
Thomas Miller:
Probably only seventeen years old at the time of death.
You talked and acted like a person much older and used that BAR to effectively keep the Chinese at a distance during those hours we were waiting for the help that never came.
Guillermo Untulan:
You are not in the casualty lists but the records show that you died as a Spec 5 so you must have stayed on after the war.
I remember so well your sudden appearance in the 3rd battallion aid station and asking me if I knew what had become of Miller.
You had had your share of hell growing up on Guam. I hope that the time you lived after Twin Tunnels was good for you.
The two guys that I did not know. I will never know what twist of fate put you on a vehicle in the motorized patrol that got trapped in the village at Twin Tunnels.
I assume that you were second division and C Company, I remember so well the big guy viewing the enemy assembling at the base of hill 453 to attack us and that you shouted at us to use our firepower to disperse them and that we did that very effectively.
I never saw either of you again after that moment.
Corporal Cenkowski:
World war 2 Ranger - One wonders why you were in the Enlited Reserve Corps at the time of the Korean War.
2 Stripes is not much rank to hang on to and certainly you had had a bellyful of war. I heard a rumor that you died operating a mounted weapon on a jeep.
Brave to the end. Maybe that is why you were in the ERC. Always a warrior!
Allan Anderson:
I cannot understand why you dropped your weapon when you jumped off the weapons carrier. The enemy was not going to go away. It cost you your life when you attempted to go back and find it.
I do not think that your assailant found time to celebrate over it. A Chinese soldier was killed minutes later while he walked openly on the road through the village.
Richard Norman:
This was your seventeenth birthday ,too much excitement for one so young. You and Miller should have been doing much calmer things at the beginning of your eighteenth year.
The Army takes such bravery as an everyday thing. I still marvel at it fiftyfive years later.
Richard Fockler
C Company Twenty third Infantry-Fellow Soldier
Letter 82 - Written By:
William (Bill) Derrick
October 29, 2006
THIS LETTER IS IN MEMORY OF WESLEY G. DERRICK WHO WAS KILLED IN ACTION IN KOREA ON NOVEMBER 11, 1950:
October 29, 2006
Dear Wesley,
It is hard to believe that more than 55 years have passed since our family learned of your death during an ambush of your unit by enemy forces in North Korea during the early morning hours of November 11, 1950.
I remember coming home on a pleasant Sunday evening in November and finding the family in total devastation. Western Union had just delivered a telegram informing my parents that you had been killed and further information would follow. The entire family was gathered together in one room sobbing and crying unable to comprehend the sudden unbelievable news. They grief was total and intolerable. How could this be? How could such a loving and gentle young man be dead before his life really began?
In many ways our family also died that night. Things were never ever the same again and our family has never been close since your death. It is as though we are afraid of being close, afraid that we might experience that grief again, when another so close to us leaves our midst.
I did not cry the night the news was received and was shocked at my inability to cry. I did not realize at the time that I suppressed all my grief. We were too close. We were more than brothers. We thought and felt alike. Sometimes I think we were even able to read the others thoughts and I do believe I had a premonition of your death when your picture fell from the shelf while I was reading. I felt dread at the time as I could see no reason for the picture to fall.
Just recently while reading an account of your unit activities and the horrific conditions to which you experienced prior to and when you were killed, I cried uncontrollably. After more than 50 years I have been able to face the reality. The void is still there but I hope you understand that you are not forgotten. As long as someone remains alive that knew you well, you will not be forgotten and in our minds you will always be a smiling and happy young man.
Thank you for the most wonderful of memories.
Your Brother, Billy
Letter 83 - Written By:
Annita Red Cloud
NM
October 29, 2006
Letters from the only child and four grandchildren of Mitchell Red Cloud Jr, Medal of Honor from Hatfield Wisconsin Killed Nov 5, 1950 by Communist Forces.
Dearest Jagi (Ho-Chunk for father)
This letter should have been written many times over the years so I could share my thoughts with you. At about seven years old I can remember knowing about you. You met the couple who would be the ones to care for me and help me grow into a good person like they were. They talked of how you came to visit me and how proud you were of your first born child. Those words were all I had to take with me on my journey into adulthood.
When I was a teenager, I was made more aware of how you would influence my life from then on. You could not be with me here on earth but I know that you have followed my footsteps. Your guidance has been appreciated in dark moments when I didn't know which road to take. With you there, I was never afraid. I would take each step with courage and strength.
Gaga Nellie affirmed that you sought to experience life and give happiness with your presence. She adored all her children and family but I enjoyed the way I could feel her love as she spoke to me of her oldest son. She asked me once why I needed to keep moving around the country. I said "I'm like my father and grandfather"; and with a tear she said "yes, now I can understand".
Any where I have ever gone, I open the book of my life and share stories that you have inspired. Having been from the poor side of town, I still stood tall because of my heritage. I did not know of prejudice, only that people respected who and what I was....an "INDIAN GIRL". No one would ever have believed that I would be among the great women who would christen a US Navy ship the USNS RED CLOUD or re-dedicate a US Army base, CAMP RED CLOUD KOREA which carried your name or that I would speak to others of what might have been your word of thanks at ceremonies that honored you.
On the visit to Korea, I went as close to Hill 123 as possible. It was there that I gave my offering of tobacco and love. It gave me a closeness to you that I had not felt before. It would have been wonderful to have had you in my life to share your sense of humor that your friends tell me about. Thank you for showing me with your selflessness and giving nature that life is about caring for each other. I hope that I will continue your journey to will build a better world for our family, our Ho-Chunk people, and all others.
I'm happy to share my thoughts and love with you today. Continue to walk with me so my life will grow in wisdom. I look forward to being with you, Choka, Gaga and my Dagas and talk to you face to face. As proud as I am to be who I am, and know who you were, I will say to you as I do everyone. I'M PROUD TO HAVE YOU AS A HERO BUT I'D RATHER HAVE HAD YOU AS A DAD.
Love to you Jagi, from your Henu
Annita RedCloud
Choka,
You have been in my heart since I can first remember. Adoption and passing of time held you strong in my life. I knew you first. Because of you I kept the faith that I would one day meet the people from where I came.
Honor, courage, fellow man, earth and sky were part of your soul. You lived steadfast and strong for these things. You will live on in my heart!!
Pam White
To the Grandfather that I never got to meet. I hold your spirit close to me always and use it to make the right decisions in my life. It took me a while to understand what your life gave to me but now that I know, it has made me a very strong person.
So you know how my life is now (even though I feel that you know) you have given my sisters, my brother and I a wonderful gift by giving life to our Mother. She is strong like you, giving like you were and has always had very high morals which passed down to us.
I have been blessed with finding the love of my life who is a great father to the two boys I had before I met him; and he has given me two beautiful daughters, I believe that you sent him to me.
You knew the problems I had when I would visit our spot and I would tell you about everything. You came through for me, just like you came through for your fellow troops and this land they call the United States of America. Everything happens for a reason, and so instead of being selfish and wishing I would have known you in this life, I would rather tell you "thank you" for the life you lived and I will see you someday.
Tris Harris
Dear Chokah,
I want you to know how much it means that you continue to watch over us even when you're so far away. I have no doubt that your spirit flies with the eagles that seem to show up when hard times are near. I find solace in their presence.
Thank you for bringing peace to my heart when I need it most.
When I returned from traveling abroad, I felt the pride and respect for the country that you continually protected throughout your lifetime. It was then that I understood the meaning of your sacrifice. I believe that you will be proud of the lives my brother, sisters, mother and I have. We've worked hard to live up to the honor that you've bestowed upon the family.
Pinigigi, (Ho-Chunk for Thank You)
Corinna Blaschke
Dear Choka (Ho-Chunk for Grandfather),
Thank you for everything you've done for me. Although you left this earth 25 years before I was born, the influence you have on my life is stronger than most people can understand.
The stories of your uplifting character, your sense of humor and your unparalleled courage has given me a lot to live up to, but I have always done my best. There is no doubt in my mind that you have been with me, giving me guidance and strength every day of my life.
I love you Choka,
Mitchell Red Cloud Kamisato
Letter 84 - Written By:
Patricia (Lynch) Gately
October 31, 2006
Dear Daddy,
James Harold Lynch.. (9th Infantry Regiment Medical Co. 2nd ID)
Its been rough here for me. I wonder if having you here would have changed things. Im sure it would have.
I thank you for taking the time befoe you left to make sure that I, your two year old daughter, stayed with your mother and father, Wm and Lova Lynch here in Aetna, Tennessee.
Mom did well to take care of herself and the four children she had with her new husband. She remarried before your death.
You didnt know that. I dont know if that is a good thing or not. I dont think she loved me anymore than she loved you.
Two of her sons killed themelves at the age of 37. Her daughter has broken contact with her and hasnt spoken to her since 1993. Her surviving son deals with alcohol and mental problems every day of his life. That leaves me.. and I stopped communicating with her years ago also.
She told me that she had left instructions that Im not to be notified when she dies. I asked her what difference her death could make in my life..
She didnt respond.
I lived a fairly good life here in Aetna after you left. Mammy and Pap were good to me. I was Pappys only child even tho your 10 brothers and sisters brought many grandchidren aroaund here, I knew I was his favorite and number 1.
The insurance money your death sent to us was a good thing. It gave us a better quality of life.
You know that Pap didnt enjoy good health. He was never a strong man and after your death, he took to his bed and gave up. He suffered from gastric disease and much of it was his depression.
He adored you. He refereed to you as his Blue Boy. I dont remember where that nick name came from, as you know Pap gave all the kids a nick name and that was yours,
when ever he'd hear that he would burst in to sobs, even after all those years.
He died in your brothers arms, Mac. He was bathing him and changing his bed and as he lifted Pap back onto the bed, he looked up at Mac and said. "IM ready to die." and he gave his last breath and slid away from us.
I hope so that he joined you and that the two of you have sit on a step somewhere, whittling and talking and that Pap could spit his tobacco juice wherever he wanted to with out criticizm.
You would have been so proud of Mac and how he cared for Mammy and Pappy in their last years. He nursed them with love and with no selfishness.
Pearl married John Jenkins. They were courting when you left here. They built a home up in the holler behind the Aetna Store.
John died this last summer. 54 years they spent loving each othre and raising two sons. They were always near when Mammy and Pappy needed them.
I had three children. Two daughers, Leslie and Carla and a son. My Alan. He left here in January of 04. He was on his way to work when a truck pulled into his lane and hit him head on. He died so quickly, Ive been told, that he felt no pain.
As I watched my wonderful son grow, I saw so many simularities in his life and yours. He followed a path so much like you, He was so smart and a loving son. I was told by everyone that he was just like you.
I feared, from the steps he took on this earth that he would leave us early, and he did. he had four more years on this earth than you did and he spent his last years here in Aetna.
He loved Aetna. I brought him here when he was just a baby and every trip we made he loved it more and more. Because of that we bought 20 acres from your brother Bug and made our plans to retire here.
Alan had a house next door to us. Right across the road from Mammy and Pappy. You have never seen a boy turn into a man so happily. He loved every minute he had here and for that I am so happy.
I have been damaged by the loss of Alan. He was the most wonderful son a woman could ask for. He loved me so and he left a memory here that will not fade.
The pain will not be eased and I look back and wonder how Mammy went on with her life and did the big job of raising the kids after you left.
I dont know how she did it because I know that she missed you with all her heart and soul. Just as I miss my son. Im thankful that I can just lay back and sink into the pain of my loss and not have to be responsible for anyone else's life and health.
Before we lost Alan, my husband Carl and I drove to St Louis and was allowed to see your records. I was impressed to see the statments that were put in that file about you and how your efforts as a Medic helped so much. How
your humor in such desperate situations helped pull the mens moral.
Im so proud of you and how you chose to be a Medic instead of other things you could have chosen to do. Im sure that uncle Jerry had some influence on that decision.
He didn't want you to fight in anyother way.
By choosing to do your job in the Army as a Medic you heped the war effort and didnt have to .............
Life has gone on. I hve my garden and flowers to work on and I have 10 chickens I take care of and we do enjoy the fresh eggs. I feel close to you here in Aetna.
I love telling my grand children how they walk this land, their grand ma, Me, walks this land. their great grand pa, you, walked this land, their ggrand parents walk this land and their ggg grand parents walked this land and so on... well over 100 years this land has been in the family and Im so glad that they have the history they have here to give them roots and a sence of belonging.
I tell them of you and how you died in that prison camp so far
from here. How you suffered from the cold. cold worse than any we have ever experienced and how hungry you were before your body gave up and you died there at that Mining camp.
I talked with the dr who was there to pronunce you dead. This morning my mind will not let me remember his name. He became very successful when he returned to the states and he traveled a lot to tell the story of that prison camp in north korea.
He remembered you. I dont know why, with so much death
and agony going on in that cold hell, but many of the men I met through the Korean War Associaton said they remembered you so well.
When I tell that you were so sick, high fever and dysentry and you took a deep drink of icy slush from the river.. you coughed a few times and then lay back and died. They
immediately speak up and say.. "yes.. I remember him."
I found the name, Paul Miller in your file in St Louis. He lived in Alabama, Mac and Pearl and I went there and met with him at his home.
He told me that he and several others took your body and laid it against a frozen hillside. They covered it with rocks and whatever else the could find because the ground was frozen too hard to dig a grave.
He gave me several names of your friends and co workers, I contaced several and spoke with them on the phone.
They all rememberd you and told me grand stories about you and your life there.
I love the story about taking a tank through a beer factory before the capture. What a night ya'll had. And I was tickled to know that you saw Bob Hope and one of his shows.
November 30th, kunari and the 38th Parrell, the death march.. reaching the Mining Camp on Christmas day.. these things stay with me and will forever as long as I live.
I think of you so often.. you have been a part of my life,
all of my life and now I wait to die and join you.. hping with all my might that you and Alan are together..there in Paradise and you two are waiting for me.
What a glorious day that will be.
I trust that you will take care of my baby boy.. yes my baby boy.. 29 years old. just four years older than you were when you left us.. but he knew well that whatever age he was he would always be my baby... take care of him.... show him the ropes.
He was so much like you ... It will be so wonderful to
be held by you and to hold my son again in my arms.
Although you were not here... you were always a big part of my life..
I trust that you could hear me when I'd walk as a child in these hills that you loved so and Id talkt to you..
I trusted then that somehow you could hear me as I creid for you and told you how I missed you and loved you.
I didnt have any one to call Daddy... and Id hear the kids at school say that word.. Id walk these hills and pastures and Id say that word.. Id call for you and I could almost hear you respond to me when Id call for you and ask you to come back. I knew that you could not do that..but Id cry it anyway..
I was only 4 when the news came that the prisioners were being released in 1953.. We had feared that you wouldnt be with them.. the telegrams and letters came from the army saying that your name was not on the list but we kept trusting that they were wrong.
I'll never forget how Mammys screams filled the house when that telegram came.. An agony that only a mother could understand. An agony that I know so well now that I had to release my son to death…
How i hope that I haent been lied to all these years.
How I hope there is paradise and that you and Alan
are there and that I will see you one day and we can live forever in that love and peace.
Your daughter Patty or Judy Anne as you called me..one of those nicknames pap picked out for me.. He got it from some radio show that I enjoyed.
with love
Letter 85 - Written By:
Whit Fisher
New York
NY
10/25/06
To my Uncle Douglas
To me, you were part of my family's mythology. I learned only that you had vanished during the war while defending your men. There was never word from the government regarding your fate, and so your parents and your sister began the long, sad period of waiting, hoping, and fearing.
When I asked questions as a child, I was finally told of someone else in this myth. A young American-born Japanese woman named Grace Iijima, who wrote your mother after you disappeared, asking if she could visit to pay her respects. This being 1951 in Kentucky, so soon after the Second World War, it was not necessarily a safe trip for her to make - and she had no idea if she'd be welcomed or reviled.
The truth was somewhere in between, and she was met cordially but with unease. The specter of miscegenation was anathema to a good Southern family, and yet there she was - bearing a portrait of you, painted from a photo by a famed Japanese artisan, and an exquisite silver bracelet for your younger sister, my mother. Clearly there was a level of connection that was very deep, and as you had a fiance when you left for Japan, her appearance brought up questions that no one dared ask. She knew this, and she played the game. Grace attended church with your family. She expressed her great respect for you in the most civil and proper manner. No one had the courage to ask anything more, and she left.
Your mother and your father died still wondering if you had been imprisoned and might somehow still be alive. A few of your fellow officers had cryptically expressed doubts that you were, but only clandestinely and with an obvious fear of official reprimand for discussing the matter with your family. Parents being what they are, your mother remained uncertain, or perhaps unwilling to believe you were really dead.
And that myth, those tales, were all I knew of you, aside from that photo of the handsome blonde soldier. Little was mentioned of the subject, and the impression given to me as a child was that the issue was at rest. Until a few years ago.
At that time, I found a list on my mother's desk of men killed in action in Korea. Though she hadn't said anything, I realized she was still looking for you, still trying to find answers, still worried. And so I decided to help.
Through the Korean War Project I was able to reach Larry Powers, who confirmed what your friends had tried to tell your parents so long ago: you had been killed on the day you disappeared, and your body had been spotted in a mass grave in territory that was subsequently lost and recaptured several times, obscuring your resting place. He sent us a photo of you at a party with him, convincing us that you had indeed known him at Camp Wood.
The information had been there all along, but the government had been unable to tell us what I discovered with a few days of work on the internet. It was hard to believe, but there it was.
Your sister and your brother were both saddened and relieved to hear the news that you had died soon after your disappearance and had not been captured, tortured, or locked away for years on end. But of course, the news brought back old pain and memories, and some of them invited investigation.
I thought often of the young Japanese woman who had come to far and to such a difficult environment to pay her respects to your family. She had cared. She would have wanted to know what we had discovered and so, we looked for her. Through hard work and some strokes of luck, we found her living only a few miles from us in Manhattan.
(I say "strokes of luck," but in fact it was her accomplishments at the UN that made it possible to find her. Had she been a less exceptional person, the search might have been fruitless. )
Before involving the rest of your family, I met with her personally to make sure that she was someone who wouldn't bring invective or cruelty to your sister and brother. I had no idea what type of person she really was. But when I met her, I realized there was no need for me to be concerned.
Clearly intelligent and accomplished, she described you with intimate detail. How you introduced yourself to her at a dance at Camp Wood. How you and she traveled through Japan together. How when you were sent to Korea, you wrote telling her how cold it was, and she arranged with great effort to have long underwear sent to you from an Abercrombie and Fitch outpost in South America. And how, when you vanished, his friends gave some of your effects to her. Without my asking, she denied a romantic relationship. I didn't believe her, and I only wish I had told her then that there was no need to keep secrets from us - anyone who was kind to you during that terrible time was a blessing to our family, not an embarrassment. It pained me to learn she had never married, and I began to develop a sinking feeling that your disappearance had broken her heart more deeply than any of us could have imagined.
I told her what we'd learned, and I think she felt some relief to know you hadn't been tormented as a prisoner. She told me she'd had dreams of you calling out to her for years after you vanished. I began to think of this poor lonely young woman, her heart broken, wondering if you were alive and suffering somewhere where she couldn't reach you - and how she had no one to talk to, not even his family, because it would have been too much of a scandal in those days. How many years did she spend with that immense, quiet grief - never marrying, always wondering.
We met one more time with your sister, and Grace saw the portrait of you she'd had made 50 years ago. She asked for your photo, and we had a copy made from her. We tried to stay in touch, but she kept her distance.
After her death, her friends approached us and told me what I had already guessed - that she was deeply in love with you, and you with her. She couldn't or wouldn't tell us this while she was alive, for whatever reasons.
And so, the myths about you changed - but they were more poignant than ever. And now, though I've never met you, my feelings for you and Grace are much stronger than they are for other relatives I've seen just a few years ago.
I suppose it is a human vanity to "fill in the gaps" in such a story, and a conceit to think I really knew either of you. With the information I have, a million different accounts could still fit the same facts.
When I think about how things might have been different if you'd survived, I try to keep my sentiments in check.
Perhaps you weren't really in love with her. Perhaps if you'd lived, you'd be another one of those relatives I'm cordial to a few times a year, but not really friendly with. Perhaps you'd want nothing to do with me because of my personal life. Perhaps all this feeling I have for you and that poor woman comes from a self-indulgent romantic fantasy that had little to do with reality at all.
Perhaps. But given the choice, I prefer to believe a different connection between the facts. Maybe you did love her, deeply. Maybe if you'd lived, you might have come to New York with Grace. We might be close. I might have come to you for advice. I might have cousins that I love dearly. You might have been a joy and a blessing to all of us if that damn war hadn't taken you, and broken so many hearts.
And so, though I don't deserve to say it, I will: I love you. I miss you. I wish, how I wish I could have helped you. Helped you both, helped you all.
With love,
Whit
Letter 86 - Written By:
Robert J. Adelhardt
Osprey
FL
To Pvt. Floyd Cash:
Hi buddy,
I remember the last time I saw you. We were on a Troop Ship headed to Korea, we ran into each other a few times. I made it to Korea on April 13th. 1951 and went to the 3rd. Infantry Div.
Around Christmas time I received a package from home that had some newspaper crushed up to keep things from getting crushed. I read every word on them and thats how I learned of your death. You were only on the line about ten days. I finally got to visit your grave in Broadhead Ky. some 50 years later. I met your cousin who was the Mayor of Broadhead at the time. I will never forget you. Thank you for your service and your sacrifice.
Bob Adelhardt, Osprey Florida
Letter 87 - Written By:
J. Birney Dibble, M.D.
Eau Claire
WI
11/11/06
Hi, JJ!!!!
Semper fi, JJ, and GO NAVY!
Remember, JJ, how we used to greet each other with that, especially if there were some Marines around, which there almost always were where we were, there in the mountains of North Korea. You were one of the best corpsmen I had to help me in my work as a battalion surgeon. The gulf between officer and enlisted man had almost disappeared between us. Except when Lt. Colonel McLaughlin or Major Braaten were around! Back in the States we would have gone fishing and hunting together and called each other by our first names.
And I loved that big lopsided smile you flashed so frequently, especially when things weren't going so good. You wanted to be a doctor. You had the brains and the guts and the compassion to be a good one. I went on to be a chest and general surgeon after I left Korea and the Navy. I would have come looking for you to practice with me when you finished your training! You can bet on that!
I'd like to recall just what happened on that night in the dark on the sidehill where you bought the farm. You'll remember most of it, but not all of it.
It was mid-morning on a cold clear day. You and I knelt in the big bunker that the Chinese had dug and fortified when they owned this sidehill above the valley in front of Hill 1052, Luke the Gook's Castle. We, the Third Battalion of the Fifth Regiment of the First Marine Divison, had been under the guns of the Castle for weeks. The Chinese had the high ground. We wanted it back.
The main assault group had pushed off in early morning. I'd followed with half a dozen of my H & S corpsmen, including you, JJ, to set up that Forward Aid Station, which was now well forward of the MLR. All my line company corpsmen were moving forward with their units, two to a platoon, so eighteen of them.
I carefully pulled aside the burlap curtain so I could see a little of what was happening.
The advancing line was taking a pounding. We could hear the Chinese mortars and small arms in a continuous roar. Our boys weren't firing much, just trying to advance from cover to cover without getting hit.
Smitty brought in the first casualty. He'd been gut-shot but looked pretty good, considering. You and Don Flau volunteered to carry him out. Our ring of security Marines laid down an enfilading fire to cover you as you jogged up the path with the stretcher. Half an hour later you slid into the bunker, covered with snow and crumbling twigs and leaves and blood -- not your own.
"Got him out okay, doctor," you reported with that winning sideways smile. "Dr. Kimball was already on the Double E-8 calling a copter when we left."
"Thanks, guys," I said. There wasn't much else to say.
The skirmish line had reached the base of the mountain and was working it's way up the side. We had a dozen wounded in the bunker, all under control. I'd already checked over a couple of men and told them they could go back to the hill. They were pleased, can you believe it? They'd been ordered by their sergeants to "go see the doc" and so they had. Now they were
going back to their units because that's where they belonged. Esprit de corps! Semper fidelis!
It was a long day. The base of fire moved up to where the skirmish line had started up the hill. The Second Battalion of our Fifth Marines moved in on our right flank. Korean Marines moved in on our left flank. But it was almost dark by the time their positions were really secure. And the worst was yet to come.
Our S/5, Major Paul Braaten, stuck his head through the door flap. "Move your aid station, doctor. Across the valley and a little ways up the other side. We need you closer to the forward lines."
We moved. There were no bunkers where the major wanted us to be. We set up in the snow, in the dark, worked on our hands and knees. We did what we could with just the light of the stars and a half moon. You corpsmen had gotten real good at splinting fractures, tying on bandages, starting IVs just by feeling-heveins, --and doing a Jot-of-other things with little or-no--light. But sometimes we had to staunch bleeding with more than just pressure and that took precision -- and light.
That's why we got into trouble. There was a breakthrough in the How Company sector, not many, just a dozen Chinese. But they saw our lights and slithered in their tennis shoes to within a few yards of our aid station without our circle of Marines hearing or seeing them.
I was kneeling beside a stretcher. You were assisting me from the other side. I finished what I was doing and flopped back on my haunches just as the burp gun went off. You pitched forward. Another gun, a Marine BAR, kicked in and I saw the Chinaman then, falling forward, only ten or fifteen feet from the stretcher. The man on the stretcher had been hit again and was dead. I crawled across the stretcher to you and turned you over. You were already unconscious. Your eyes had that glazed look that you see just before....
I cradled you in my arms to keep you as warm as possible while you died.
JJ, I put you up for a Bronze Star. Major Braaten put me up for one, too. I got mine. They knocked yours down to a Letter of Commendation. That was a dirty trick. It makes me angry to this day. Fortunately, your Mom didn't know the relative value of medals. She just knew you'd gotten one. She was so proud of you, through her tears, when I told her you'd been awarded a medal for valor. Yes, I took it to her. Took the Purple Heart, too. The least I could do for you. And for her.
Semper fi, JJ, and GO NAVY!!!!!!!!!!!!
J. Birney Dibble, M.D.
Letter 88 - Written By:
Barbara O'Neal
Fresno
CA
My letter is to Larry Hamby. Larry was sent to Korea in June, 1950. He was in battles at the Chosen Reservoir at the end of November and was reported MIA on Dec. 2, 1950. His remains, like so many others, are still there.
Dear Larry,
We were so devastated when you were taken from us. Our life at home was hard, but I know you couldn't wait to get back and help. You always did your very best. Remember how us kids stuck together through all the moving around as we grew up. You were our big brother and you watched out for us. We all looked up to you.
I still have the pretty things you sent me when you were in boot camp in Texas and from Washington before you were sent to Korea. It was so special to receive gifts from you.
I married your friend, Bill Muncill, that your served with in Korea. He got in touch with us when he got back to Japan and you were not there. We had 1 son. He grew up loving old cars and motorcycles and still does. He reminds me of you and of course I've told him all about you. Bill and I eventually divorced but he and our son are still very close. Our son is a teacher.
I had another son with my second husband. He also knows all about his uncle and how much I love my big brother. He grew up to be a musician. My sons have been the joy of my life. They are fine men and married lovely women. We are all okay.
Larry, I remember how much you encouraged me when I was a kid. You told me I could do anything. It meant so much to me.
Morris and Curtis have both done very well. They are both in business. Morris has an accounting business and Curtis is in law.
You would be so proud of them. They miss you and love you. Morris has 3 sons and Curtis has 2. Each of them named one of their sons for you. They are all fine men now and have families.
Larry, you will never be forgotten. We all have pictures of you hanging in our living rooms and they will be passed on to our children and so on down through the generations.
We appreciated all the letters that you wrote to us. It must have been very hard at times to write but you did. We love you so much and are so very proud of you. You gave your all for our country and we will never forget. I am grateful that we had you for the time that we did.
My continual prayer is that someday you will be brought back to the U.S. where you belong.
I love you and miss you.
Your sister,
Barbara
Letter 89 - Written By:
Shirley T. Mohler
Huntsville
AL
TO: James Walter Priest (KIA Korea)
Dear Jimmy,
I am so happy to have this opportunity to write to you. I remember the last time we saw each other. You took me for a ride on your motorcycle and I somehow burned my leg on the exhaust pipe but I never said a word. I was so thrilled to be riding with you. Someone took some pictures of us. You left soon after that to serve in the army.
I thought of you often and still remember you as you were then; young, unafraid, off on a great adventure.
I have heard terrible things about the Korean War so I know the last months of your life were not easy. We were all shocked when word came of your death. Your burial was my first military funeral. I remember it still. There is a monument in Mattoon, Illinois dedicated to the Korean War vets.
Inscribed on it are these words, "Call out our name as years go by, Remember us and we shall never die."
I remember you!
Your cousin,
Sug
Letter 90 - Written By:
Carolyn Jane Ryno
Plato
MO
Plato, Mo November 1, 2006
Dear Lester,
It has been so many years since you left your home as just a boy headed for the Army. Oh how I missed you and I still do as we were such close "Double Cousins." When all the others thought I was too little to play with them, since I was the youngest, You always spent time with me. We all had so much fun when we went to visit Grandma and Grandpa. You lived up a long hill from them and when we got there the first place my sister and I headed was up that hill to see you and your sister Margie. And of course we knew we would get something good to eat that Uncle Clarence or Aunt Louisa had prepared.
You were only gone such a short time before you were sent to Korea and I still have the card you sent me it says `Your old Cousin Lester, Korea bound". We never got to welcome you home as you never returned.
I still visit your sister Margie in Houston Mo she is 78 and still works full time at the hospital. She lived near your parents all these years and now they are gone and she is alone. We look at pictures and talk and cry for you.
I have been married for 54 years and have three children and three Grand children. You never got a chance to grow up and have a home. We are so sorry for that.
You had the dearest parents and so did I your Dad was my Moms twin brother and your Mom was my Dads sister so we really feel we lost a brother.
I hope someday you will be brought back and buried where you belong. May you rest in peace.
Love Always,
Your old cousin Carolyn
Letter 91 - Written By:
James A. Richart
Wever
IA
Dear Andy Cordova, Roy F. Rooffener, and Kenneth Brock,
I wonder what your lives would have been had you not been killed in action at the Chosin Reservoir in December of 1950.
Andy, you and Bud should not have even been on the front lines as you had been sent to the rear with perforated ear drums (due to the severe freezing temperatures). The road was blocked by North Korean road blocks so you came back to join our outfit, First Platoon, George Company, 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines.
Andy as you were a National Golden Gloves Champion, you might have gone on to a professional career. Being from San Antonio, you might have returned to a career there or stayed and retired as a Marine.
Bud, you were from Eldridge, Missouri, south of St. Louis and probably have returned home, married, raised a family, and lived in this small Missouri town.
Kenny, by all rights, you should not have even been in Korea. You were a Marine Reserve from Indianapolis. You were not in the Reserves long, had not gone through Boot Camp or Combat Training. You were in love with LaVonne and talked of her constantly. I would assume you would have returned to Indianapolis, married LaVonne, and raised a family.
As Fire Team Leader I was wounded, air evacuated to a hospital in Japan. I returned to the states and was a Drill Instructor at the MCRD in San Diego. I was discharged and returned to Iowa, was a State Trooper for 13 years and retired from an insurance company in 1996. I now live on an acreage in Wever, Iowa.
God bless you and I hope you are in heaven and looking down on us.
Semper Fi
Sgt. James A. Richart
Letter 92 - Written By:
Lois L. Moore
Star
ID
Captain Harry C. Moore A0711850
18th Fighter Bomber Group, serving in Korea 1950
My Dearest Harry,
Your daughter, Jana Beth was only one week old when you were sent with your squadron from our home at Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines at the beginning of the Korean War. We were Messed that you were able to return six weeks later to see your daughter and me off to our home in the United States. This was a very difficult time for all of us.
For the next year we lived with my parents and I returned to my previous work. Then on June 1, 1951 we received word that you had been shot down in your aircraft and had been killed in action.
A year later, Jana and with your good friend Jack, also my brother, moved to California. I felt living in our small home town in West Virginia, people were sympathetic to me and I wanted to take care of myself and our daughter.
We were all blessed again when four years later Bob and I decided to marry. He has taken wonderful care of us for 52 years now. Bob also gave us a sister for Jana. Even though they are nine years apart, they are very close sisters and friends. They have both married exceptional young men. Jana had one daughter, Christianne, who also has a very good husband and two sons. You would be so happy and proud of all of us.
On our Veterans Day, November 11, our granddaughter, Christianne and her husband have been invited to attend a memorial at the White House and then to Arlington Cemetery. We have had a marker placed there in your memory.
In 2002 we received word from the Air Force that during their research in the Russian Archives, they located two MIG pilots who said they had shot you down and that you had survived and were taken to Moscow. There is no further word.
We hope and pray that if you did survive, life has not been too difficult. You are always in our hearts and prayers.
We all love you,
Lois
Letter 93 - Written By:
John Clifford
Indianapolis
IN
To: 2nd Lt Virgil M. Atwood
Co K, 5th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Cavalry Division
Dear Sir,
I am your son-in-law but we have never met. And even though my faith tells me we will meet someday, that time may be a ways off, so I pause now to give you a small portion of the infinite amount of thanks and honor you deserve for the sacrifice of your life for your men and all of us on that hilltop near the Iron Triangle on June 3, 1951. You were only 29. Your daughter, your only child, was just 3.
In the previous war, you had parachuted into Normandy as a member of the 502nd parachute infantry regiment of the 101st Airborne Division, you parachuted into Holland, and you fought in the Battle of the Bulge at Bastogne. You came out of that war with 4 bullet holes, numerous medals and had obtained the rank of Sergeant.
You were called back into service and entered the Korean conflict in October of 1950 where you earned a bronze star with "V" device for Valor, a Silver Star for Gallantry in action, a battlefield commission to be a Lieutenant, and a Distinguished Service Cross for Extraordinary Heroism. Your combat medals total ... 1 DSC, 1 Silver Star, 3 Bronze Stars, and 4 purple hearts. You were posthumously awarded the Distinguished Service Cross in the action on June 3, 1951 where you are credited with sacrificing your life to save the lives of every man in your platoon, single-handedly knocking out 6 enemy machine guns, and killing 20 enemy soldiers. The exact text of the award reads like this:
General Order 695, 14 September 1951
2nd Lt VIRGIL M ATWOOD, 02262952, Infantry, U.S. Army. Lt ATWOOD, while a member of Co K, 5th Cav Reg, 1st Cav Div, distinguished himself by extraordinary heroism in action against the enemy in the vicinity of Okkye-ri, Korea on 3 June 1951. Lt ATWOOD was the leader of the assault platoon in an attack against an enemy-held hill. As the platoon advanced to the crest of the hill, it was suddenly subjected to intense enemy small-arms and automatic-weapons fire from well-fortified and camouflaged emplacements manned by a hostile force estimated at battalion strength. Realizing that in their present exposed position the platoon faced annihilation, Lt ATWOOD with complete disregard for his personal safety, charged up the slope toward the entrenchments. His heroic singlehanded assault so surprised the enemy that they momentarily forgot the platoon, granting it time to seek cover, and instead concentrated their fire on Lt ATWOOD. Rapidly firing his carbine and throwing grenades among the confused enemy, he leaped into their midst and killed approximately twenty of them in addition to rendering six automatic weapons useless. With the enemy in his immediate vicinity eliminated, Lt ATWOOD began to move forward once more but was hit and instantly killed by a bursting enemy shell. The extraordinary heroism and completely selfless devotion to duty displayed by Lt ATWOOD reflects great credit on himself and were in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service.
BY COMMAND OF GENERAL VAN FLEET (8th Army Commander)
Lieutenant Atwood, Sir, you now have 4 grandchildren and 5 great grandchildren and my pledge to you and your entire band of brothers is that we will honor you forever and your story will always be before us as inspiration to be the kind of people you are proud of. We love you all but our expression of love is feeble by comparison as yours was the greatest act of love possible because, "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends - John 15:13".
Thanks guys. We'll take it from here.
Sincerely
John H. Clifford
Letter 94 - Written By:
Martha Baker
Stanley
NC
Hey Daddy,
You've been gone 10 years now. It seems so much longer than that. A daughter shouldn't lose her daddy at only 31 years of age. I miss you so much.
Jenna is 22 now. She's a senior at NC State majoring in Child Psychology. She wants to help children who are facing cancer, physical disabilities and other illnesses. She's become very independent and she's got a very funny sense of humor. She loves to play your famous "Wizard Trick" on people. She's absolutely beautiful inside and out. You'd be so proud of her.
Ryan is 20. He just joined the Air Force and is in Basic Training. He has adjusted well to the Military and wants to volunteer to go to Iraq when he graduates from Tech School. He reminds me so much of you. He was a great quarterback, he loves to play cards, can charm anyone into doing anything and he loves the ladies and they love him.......just like you! They both love and miss you.
You and I got to spend a lot of time together your last 4 years. Those times are so special to me. The one thing I regret is not asking you enough about your time in the Navy. I avoided asking you a lot of questions because I know how traumatic it was for you during the Korean War. But I know how proud you were to have served. Unfortunately, it's too late to ask those questions now. But please know how much respect I have for you because of what you did for me and my country.
Thank you for being a great daddy. You're always on my mind and forever in my heart.
I love you,
Martha
Letter 95 - Written By:
Pam Robinson
Ellensburg
WA
10/26/06
Dear friends
I am writing to all of you, not to point one person out. I did not loose a son, a husband, a father, a brother, grandfather or uncle to the Korean War.
Quite opposite in fact. My father came home from that war to go on and fight in others. He came back from those as well.
I just wanted to write to you to let you know how thankful I am for your ultimate sacrifice so that my dad could come back to us.
As I have moved and traveled as military brats do, I may have met someone you have left behind. I am sorry for the sacrifice they had to make and hope they lived their lives, as you would want them to live so you would be proud of them as we all are of you.
I appreciate the freedoms I enjoy today because of the sacrifices made so long ago.
My dad is now gone, but he is and will always be my hero along with all of you dear friends that I did not get a chance to meet because of what you gave to us.
I solute you, I honor you. May you rest in peace knowing we love and appreciate you.
With heartfelt love
Pam Robinson Ellensburg, WA
Letter 96 - Written By:
David A. Johnson
Rochester
MN
IN HONOR and REMEMBRANCE of PVT. ARTHUR K. MIKULIK
From Avoca, Wisconsin
Arthur, you hadn't reached your 20th birthday yet on that cold winter day in February, God Bless you and the 70 other young men who died in Korea on the 6th of February 1951.
I knew you as the young boy looking up to the big senior who had just graduated from high school. If you had lived to come home ... maybe, we would have walked the bluffs and hills along the Wisconsin River, done some hunting and fishing, and became life long friends. Now 55 years later, I have only a memory and picture of this kind young man who took the time to talk with the 10 year old kid.
Arthur, I Iived a full life with loved ones, good friends, good health, and good fortune. I was in the service during the Viet Nam War (66-68) and came home safe. All my life, I've remembered the kindness you showed as a young man and I've tried to do the same with the people I meet. And when I sit quietly on a lake, in the woods, or anywhere, you are never far away.
Bless You Arthur, and All The Killed and Missing Soldiers of The Korean War on this Veterans Day 2006.
With Love and Friendship to Have Known You,
David Johnson
Letter 97 - Written By:
Clayton Poland
Waterville
ME
In Memory of Corporatl Shirley M. Poland
May 18, 1930 - June 2, 1951
Dear Shirley,
This is your brother, Clayton, writing to you. It hardly seems like over 55 years since we lost you.
A lot has happened in my life and I would like to share just a bit of it.
Janet, your wife, remarried and divorced to die in her 40's.
Sheila, your daughter you never got to see, married and had a girl and a boy. We never hear from her now but she did have a couple grandchildren you would have loved to see also.
Mamma, Daddy and Robert have all passed on. Wilma lives alone with nurses around the clock to help her. She had a boy and girl that are married and have children and grandchildren.
I married Betty and we have a boy and two girls. They all had children and we are great-grandparents of seven. We were able to retire early and enjoyed living in Florida for twelve years. We are now back in Waterville, Maine, for the rest of our lives.
We have all missed you so much and wished you could be with us in person. Your candle still burns in your memory and especially at Christmas. It is the only one we had growing up and you enjoyed it so much along with the season.
This is hunting season in Maine. I remember the deer we used to get and the fun we had doing it.
All is fine here.
One of these days we will all be united again. Until then -- you were not and never will be forgotten.
Love from all,
Clayton
Letter 98 - Written By:
Billie Jo Hawley-Miller
Roscommon
MI
To my Cousin, PFC Donald L. Canfield
38th Infantry Regiment, 2nd Infantry Division.
Dear Donald,
You are the cousin I will never meet. The cousin who died, at the tender age of 19 by an enemy flame thrower. The cousin whom I have only seen in pictures, with your huge smile, so proud in your Army uniform. You are the cousin who I would have never known, had it not been for my passion for genealogy. Had I not been interested in the past, you would have been buried there forever, in the quietness of memories unspoken.
With all who had passed after you, all those who knew you, who touched your cheek, who remembered your birth and mourned your death, your memory was almost lost as well. But it is lost no more. No longer are you just the grave of a fallen soldier. The young man, buried beside your parents in a small town cemetery in Michigan. No longer are you only the article in the local paper in 1951, detailing your death and the long journey home. No longer are you the body carried from the train depot to the funeral home by Veterans of earlier wars who came before you.
You are now the pride within my heart. You are the strength in my voice that tells all who will listen that "I have lost a family member to the ravages of War!" You may have been taken 17 years before I was ever born, but you are my hero and I grieve for
you. Were I able, I would look you in the eye and thank you for what you have done, for what you have sacrificed. And because I cannot, my thanks will be to make sure your memory never fades again.
Till we meet someday,
Your Cousin
Billie Jo Hawley-Miller
Letter 99 - Written By:
Cheryl Davidson
Lexington
KY
Private Herbert King
Heaven C/O God
Dear Pvt. Herbert King,
We never had the opportunity to meet you, but feel we know you. You were married to our mother Allie Miller King for less than a year when you lost your life in Korea. We want to tell you that although she managed to go on with her life, to remarry and have 5 children, she never forgot you and she never stopped loving you. She told all 5 of us what a kind man you were. She shared some of the letters you wrote to her from Korea, and told us stories about how she originally tried getting you dates with other girls, but then fell in love with you herself. She didn't hide anything about you from us. In fact, she told us that she raised us the way you and she had talked about raising your children together; only you didn't come back from Korea and therefore didn't have children. She told us how she always wondered if you were truly killed in Korea because it was recommended the casket remain closed during your funeral services.
Mom was a wonderful mother. She spent her life doing anything and everything she could for us kids. She taught us right from wrong. She taught us to love one another and to respect other people. We were taught to always be kind to other people. You don't have to be mean to people regardless of the type person they are. If they don't do things you feel are right, you can still say hello to them without being involved in any of their wrong doings. She was a strict mother and made sure we walked the path she expected, but we loved her so much for it. You would have been proud of her.
The year before her death, Kay and Cheryl took her to the Korean War Memorial in Washington, D.C. because she had talked about wanting to see it. We didn't even realize that our time would be cut so short with her. The memory of her touching your name and searching the pictures on the wall to see if by chance your picture would be there was so touching. Seeing your name there did not heal her pain of losing you, but it gave her a sense of peace that our country remembered you and what you gave up for all of us.
Every year for as long as we can remember, mom took flowers to your grave at Riverside Cemetery in Hazard, KY on Memorial Day. One year in particular that we went to your gravesite and Cheryl placed one red rose on your grave and as she laid it on your grave she explained to you the rose was for the love that she had for you because of the love you had given my mother and because you continued to take care of her through the Veteran's Administration after her divorce from my dad. Although she was the very person who taught us to love you, Mom had tears in her eyes and she was speechless.
In February 2004, mom was diagnosed with a brain tumor that was inoperable. That year on Memorial Day, we took her to your gravesite to place flowers on your grave as always. She told us this time, "I know you might not be able to put flowers on all my family member's graves every year because there are so many of them. I understand this. The only thing I ask is that you always decorate Herbert's grave." We will keep that promise to our mother, not only because it meant so much to her but also because you have always been a special part of our lives.
Our dear mother kept your memory alive throughout her life, and through her, we knew you. We make this promise to you: For the entirety of our lives, we will continue to keep your memory alive. We will pass on to our children, a most precious and tender love story, that one fine outstanding young lady and one brave young soldier shared for a lifetime, and now continue to share in Heaven. If you receive our letter, please hold our mother tight and tell her we miss her. The two of you wait for us because one day we will join you. We thank you.
With all our love,
Cheryl, Joan, Joanne, Kay, and Dean Davidson
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