Courage under Fire

A special commemorative issue Sunday, July 4, 2010

COURAGE U N D E R F I RE STORIES OF WAR Bataan, Iwo Jima, Chosin, Mekong Delta, Baghdad Through the generations, Norman-area veterans have displayed valor and gallantry while engaging the enemy. In this keepsake edition are accounts from some of the most famous battle fronts in recent U.S. history. What better way to celebrate Independence Day, than by honoring those who answered their country’s call to arms and fought for that very freedom.

In many cases these men went to war as boys, but fought and died as heroes.

+ Marine Col. Roscoe Lloyd Barrett Jr.: 1925-2007 This veteran of Korea was one of “The Chosin Few.”

Video: Veterans, loved ones recount memories

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(Back Row Left to Right: Shane Vice, Barbara Vice, Tommy Vice, Eve Vice and Chad Vice. Front Row Left to Right: Brant Vice, Dalton Vice, Deedra Vice, Jennifer Vice, Hadley Vice & Kennedy Vice.)

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STORIES OF WAR

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

From the editor I never had the priviledge of wearing a uniform in our country’s service, so I don’t have the right to snap-to and give a proper salute.

Still, I hope through this publication that we at The Transcript are able to render honors to all those who have sacrificed in the service of our country.

In these pages you will read all manner of stories, some of them humorous, some harrowing, many of them humbling.

Response to this special keepsake section has been overwhelming, but gratifying. The response was so great, in fact, that already a second section is in the works for this fall.

There were right around 100 stories submitted from more than 70 readers.

Some of those stories reached us after our cutoff deadline; others continue to come in. Your submissions still are welcome.

The sad truth is, there simply wasn’t an opportunity to give every story its full due. The happy truth is, there is ample opportunity to do stories justice at our online site.

These are our neighbors. They’ve given so much so that we can enjoy this holiday, and every day, as free Americans.

If given the chance, I hope you’ll say “thank you” to all of our veterans, and a special “welcome home” to our Vietnam veterans.

Deb Parker, editor

Full stories, photos, videos and slide shows are available on @

IN THIS EDITION Adams. M: Allred, B: Archer, G: Asper, J: Barrett, R:

Army Navy Navy Army Army

Biege, C: Bliss, S: Bonge. M: Bowman, H: Bryan, W: Burnett, D: Carle, W: Clark, D: Cleveland, L: Cole, J:

Army Army Homefront Army Navy USAF USAF Vietnam Army AAF

Cox, R: Dickey, L: Draper, F: Driscoll, J: Eckstein, D: Fears, J: Francis, R: Gage, W: Garman, R: Gastgeb, K: Gilstrap, W: Graham, D: Hamilton, T:

Navy Navy AAF Navy Army USMC Navy Army Homefront Navy Army Vietnam Army

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Vietnam WWII WWII WWII WWII, Korea Vietnam WWI Korea

Pg. 17 online 29 6 20-21

16 26 31 WWII 7 Korea 16 Vietnam 25 Vietnam 37 video WWII 25 WWII, Korea, 28 Vietnam WWII 7 WWII 4 WWII 28 WWII 7 Iraq July 11 Vietnam 34 WWII 28 Vietnam 32 24 WWII 18 Iraq 23 video Iraq video

Hanna, S: Hardin, R: Hartman, R: Hays, J.: Hollingsworth : Horne, A: Howell, Z: Jeffress, E: Johnson, J: Jones, W: Lategola, M: Lloyd, J: Long, N: Long, R: Love, K: Mannick, B: Martin, J: McFarland, E: Melville, J: Minor, J: Moore, G: Murphy: J: Myers, G: Osborn, H: Parker, D: Parker, G: Parker, J: Parman, J: Parman, L: Pitts, T:

COURAGE UNDER FIRE: THE SERIES To appear on the Transcript’s front page July 4-11 July 4: The most worrisome time for him was the December 1972 “11 day war” in Vietnam that essentially signaled the end of that war and release of the POWs / Glenn Schaumburg July 5: People thank me for my service, but I enjoyed it, except when the artillery came in. I guess you’re not supposed to say that, huh? / A.D. Hollingsworth July 6: While we were at Camp Pendleton we got to go up to Hollywood. I danced with Angela Lansbury. But that was before Iwo Jima / Bud Stark July 7: Al Horne was half blind and should have been 4F, but the Army took him anyway. He saw combat in some of Korea’s heaviest fighting / Jeff Horne, his son July 8: I flew more than one hundred B-52 combat missions during the Vietnam War, but none of these are as memorable as the combat mission I did not fly / Sidney T. Hanna July 9: It was 90 days. Ray Taylor turned 20 a month after arriving in Vietnam. Two months later, he would be going home, never to turn 21 / Mike Tobin, his friend July 10: My husband, Sgt. Chad Murphy, and I enlisted together in May of ’06. Both have been deployed to Iraq; he’s about to leave on his second tour / J.J. Murphy July 11: Damien Eckstein took his mom by surprise when he volunteered to join the military police company readying to go to Iraq in seven months. / Conni Eckstein, his mother

USAF USMC AAF Army Army Navy Navy AAC Navy Army Navy Navy USMC Army Navy USAF Army Army Army Army Army Army AAF USAF USAF Army Navy Homefront Navy

Cuba Vietnam WWII WWII WWII Korea WWII WWII WWII WWII WWII WWII WWII WWII WWII WWII Vietnam WWII Vietnam WWII Iraq Iraq WWII WWII Korea Vietnam WWI WWII WWII

July 8 video 28 28 July 5 July 7 23 22 30 33 19 6 26 28 12 18 17 28 28 27 38 July 10 36 8 5 16 16 13 13 30

Powell, C: Reedy, C: Richmond, F: Rieger, H: Root, R: Ross, C: Runge, N: Schaumburg: Scott, D: Shafnacker, J: Silman, J:

Army Army USAF

USMC AAF USAF USAF Army Army Navy Smallwood, A: Army Stark, B: USMC Stout, M: Homefront Tobin, M: Army Tullius, L: Army Vaughn,D: Army Vowell, D: Army Warden, I: Army Welcher, A: Army

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Vietnam WWII WWII Peacetime Vietnam WWII WWII Vietnam Vietnam WWII WWII

video 31 24 5 video 36 28 July 4 14 24 6

Vietnam WWII

28 July 6 31 July 9 22 37 24 28 26

Vietnam WWII Vietnam Korea WWII WWII

Acronym glossary: AAC: Army Air Corps (1926-1941) AAF: Army Air Forces (1942-1946) USAF: U.S. Air Force (1947-present) USMC: U.S. Marine Corps WWII: World War II

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STORIES OF WAR

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

SUNDAY, JULY 4, 2010

Leon Dickey: Saw service in the South Pacific from 1943 to 1944.

“He was an incredible man, but as incredible as he was to me, he was just another sailor performing his duty.”

USS LST 19 after surviving combat and typhoon

-- Sgt. Tommy Hamilton, grandson

Sailor fishes with grenades to feed hungry men Sgt. Tommy Hamilton. I received his master’s degree at OU this last December.

While he is a 15 year veteran of the Air Force and Army and has been deployed to Saudi Arabia during Desert Storm, it was his grandfather’s story he wanted to tell.

His grandfather was Leon Dickey. He served in the South Pacific in 1943 and 1944. He was in the Coast Guard serving with the Navy.

The plan right now is for Sgt. Hamilton is to depart July 3rd for Fort Benning, Ga., and from there to Afghanistan.

For more on Sgt. Hamilton’s story, please see www.normantranscript.com/ courage.

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By Sgt. Tommy Hamilton Leon Dickey’s grandson

W

e knew him as Papaw. Papaw served aboard Landing Ship Tank 19.

LST 19 was a shallow water landing ship that carried tanks, trucks and other war equipment.

The ship put to sea in 1943.

She earned four Battle Stars for engaging Japanese forces in the Gilbert Islands operation: • November and December 1943 Marianas operation, capture and occupation of Saipan • June and July 1944, Tinian capture and occupation • July 1944 Western Caroline Islands operations • September and October 1944, capture and occupation of southern Palau Islands.

In 2006 he began to succumb to colon cancer and allowed me to interview him on camera. He told me many stories of the war.

When they first put to sea, their first stop in pursuit of Japanese forces led them to Adak, Alaska.

By his recollection, they missed the Japanese by such a close

margin that the food and coffee that the Japanese left behind was still hot. Very close indeed.

‘Bloody Tarawa’ Papaw never really talked about the war very much save for some humorous stories that intermingled the horrific ones. He was at the battle of Tarawa. It was characterized by historians as “Bloody Tarawa” due to the massive amount of casualties.

Of the 5,000 Japanese soldiers on the Island, 17 survived because they surrendered, the rest died in battle or committed suicide.

Of the 35,000 U.S. forces involved, he recalled that there were about 2,000 dead. He told me that the War Machine was moving so fast that the hospital ships were about two weeks behind the battle group.

After the battle at Tarawa had ended, he recalled that there were so many bodies floating in the water that they were ordered to use chains and other heavy objects to drape over the bodies of the dead so as to sink them to the bottom of the

lagoons so that the propellers from the constant ship to shore small boat traffic would not destroy the dead, and so that the hospital ships could recover the bodies in a decent condition.

Being a survivor of the Great Depression and of many nights without a meal, he was callused to hardship and rarely cried. When he got to that part of the story, he wept openly.

Feeding the masses He also recalled that after the battle was over, they were all pretty hungry. He had a cousin there in the Marines. He got permission from his captain to go fishing so that they could have a fish fry.

They boarded a Higgins boat, went ashore, secured a fried fish meal to the marines and his cousin in exchange for 2 cases of hand grenades.

They took the Higgins boats to the opposite side of the island and started tossing the grenades overboard. As they exploded, the shockwave killed or stunned the

fish. They scooped up what he described as “tons” of fish.

A local inhabitant of the island helped them toss out the fish that were not edible. For the next couple of days, they had fresh fried fish on the deck of the LST19.

Papaw’s heart It is my belief that because of the horrible things that he witnessed humans doing to other humans, that his heart was changed.

He was the most generous, giving and loving grandfather that I can ever imagine.

He always made sure that through up and down, thin or flush, we never went without, like he and his brother did growing up during the Depression.

Those of us in the military do this out of a sense of what the Red, White and Blue represents. It represents lives lost, given and sacrificed, so that others do not have to.

Our military is the greatest in the world because of people like my Papaw.

STORIES OF WAR

SUNDAY, JULY 4, 2010

Lieutenant talks down disabled F-94 fighter jet He was 30 to 40 miles from Minot and had no time to return The Transcript to Fargo. He was in contact with Lt. Rieger at the radar station.

The Cleveland County According to the newspaper Veterans Memorial contains the account, Lt. Rieger kept the names of hundreds of men and plane on his radar screen and women who have connections literally guided the craft over to our community. They lived one of the airport runways. here, served and trained here or The jets are so fast they rarely now call this home. Four fly blind. They are in contact generations of my family — in Lt. Henry A. Rieger with radar most of the time. The three branches of the service — Air Force noted the incident as a have served in the last 100 years. “succesful emergency letdown” of an F-94 I was proud to see my father’s name on from Fargo.

A C-47 from Fargo was the marker. Air Force Lt. Henry A. Rieger dispatched with equipment and mechanics served after completing his engineering to make the repairs and the pilot flew the Fdegree at the University of Oklahoma. He 94 back home. was an air traffic controller assigned to the I’ve often wondered about what became SAC base in Minot, N.D. of that pilot. Did he have children? Did he When he died in 1997, I found an old newspaper clipping describing something tell them the story of the young second never shared with his children. Lt. Rieger lieutenant who guided him to a safe was the duty director for the 786th Aircraft landing at a Minot airport 55 years ago?

Did the two ever meet and shake hands Control and Warning Squadron early in on a job well done. It made 12 paragraphs June 1955. on the newspaper’s front page. Not a big A F-94 fighter jet from the 178th deal, but like many military men and Interceptor squadron at Fargo, N.D. was women, he never brought it up unless in trouble. The plane’s pilot, Lt. James Peterson, reported his generator was gone someone asked. and the gyro compass failed. He needed to Transcript Executive Editor Andy Rieger is Lt. make an emergency landing but couldn’t Henry A. Rieger’s son. find the airport without his instruments.

By Andy Rieger

Tech Sgt. Delbert L. Parker, U.S. Air Force My father is retired now, but he gave 20 years of his life to the service of his country.

Delbert L. Parker was born in Pawhuska, in Osage County, where he signed up for the Army Air Corps. He was 17, so my grandfather had to sign a waiver allowing him to join.

His record shows service during the

Korean and Vietnam wars.

He saw service in Okinawa, North Africa and England, and he took his family to Japan before settling into stateside duty.

He guarded bomb wing hangars in Okinawa and missile silos in Texas, and he wore his instructor’s wings as he taught supply at Amarillo Air Force Base.

- Debra A. Parker Transcript Editor Debra A. Parker is Tech Sgt. Delbert Parker’s daughter.

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

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STORIES OF WAR

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THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

Soldier makes a friend in Belgium One dance, lifetime of love serving in the JAG Corps in Norman Washington, D.C. Durining the war, he wrote to Pvt. 1st Class Joseph Asper us (mother and me) every day served in World War II, Battery and I wrote to him every day.

D, 136th Antiaircraft Artillery It was during the period of the Battalion, from July 1944 to Battle of the Bulge when his unit January 1946. was stationed in Belgium in 1944 Joseph Asper He would end his service to that his love of children was this country as a first lieutenant evident. He had been writing in the reserves attached to the Judge home about a beautiful girl in Belgium, and all the men in his unit were all crazy Advocate General Corps. about her. But, she liked him best of all.

In recognition of his wartime service We had visions of his coming home he was awarded American Campaign with a war bride! Then he sent us a photo Medal; European, African, Middle of him with “Little Maria” on his knee. I Eastern Campaign Medal; four Bronze have treasured this photo all these years.

Stars; and the Victory Medal.

Joseph loved his country and was Note: Joseph Asper has passed from this world and is proud to serve in World War II, earning among those memorialized on the Cleveland County Veterans Memorial. many medals and honors, and later

By Edna Asper Elkouri, sister

Navy best thing for wayward teen

By John Lloyd as told to Aaron Wright Gray, The Transcript

John Lloyd entered the U.S. Navy in summer 1941.

He remained in a military career with the Navy through 1962.

During his time, Lloyd served as an aircraft mechanic, earning the rank of chief petty officer.

At 18 years old, Lloyd said, he joined the Navy

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The Navy forced him to grow up and get his life together.

Although he worked on many aircraft, Lloyd said he was never really engaged in battle, even during World War II. “It’s been uneventful, but interesting,” he said.

because he had nowhere else to turn. His mother was sick, his dad had died and he had just dropped out of high school.

“In retrospect, it was probably the best thing in the world that could have Hear more of Lloyd’s stohappened to me,” Lloyd ry at normantranscript.com said. “I was going nowhere /courage. fast.”

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after I was shipped out to an assignment in Texas. On leave I came back to Oklahoma and we saw each other again. y military career did not include The war ended in 1945 and I was discharged in May 1946. any hazardous experiences, Previously I had a degree in chemistry however, the most important event in but would have a year before I could go to my life, military or other, took place in medical school if I was accepted.

Norman, Okla.

I was stationed at the US Naval Hoapital I enrolled at the University of Oklahoma South Base as a hospital corpsman. for the summer of 1946. We were married One evening I had a pass and planned Aug. 31, 1946.

She had finished her last class and final to go into town when a friend asked me if I on Friday the 30th. We were married in planned to go to the dance? He told me First Presbyterian Church, located at that there were some girls from OU who time on Main Street at University Boulewould be there. I decided to cancel the trip vard, as I recall. to town and go to the dance.

I finished OU in the following year and The dance was under way when I got we moved to Houston where I attended there, and the first thing that caught my Baylor Medical, graduated 1951, our first eye was a really neat girl dancing with one son born May 16th of that year. of our patients. I waited till the band had I had a tour of duty in the Army Medical almost finished the number they were Corps, our daughter was born literally in playing and cut in. the shadows of the Golden Gate in San The rest is history. We talked and both Francisco. of us decided to continue our conversation I was assigned to Fort Hood, Texas, and at a later date. She did not give me a then stayed in Texas for a time. Our telephone number but rather a mailing second son was born in Texas. address.

We returned to Norman in 1961.

I wrote, we had a date and not too long

By James B. Silman, MD

U.S. Navy, U.S. Army

M

Soldier learns gunfire wasn’t just in his head weekend he arrived, but all this changed to a withdrawn non communicating U.S. Navy, U.S. Army person by Monday morning.

Most of the old frame buildings have I tried to talk with him, but he refused been torn down but some remain south of to take the cover from over his head.

Reaves Park.

Finally he confessed to me that he South Base included, in addition to the thought he was losing his mind, I asked Naval Hospital, a Naval Air Technical why and he said.

Training Center where machinist mates “I am in a hospital in the state of Oklawere trained. homa and this morning I heard the sound of An interesting story about the Naval heavy machine guns, and I still do.”

Hospital, I worked on an orthopedic ward I told him “indeed you do.” A few hundred and we provided long term care for injuries yards away was the gunnery range where they trained machinist and gunner mates to sustained in combat and other means. un-jam machine guns. The NATTC was the On the ward I was assigned to I remember receiving a young Marine who source of the gunfire.

You could see the relief pouring over had a shrapnel wound to his leg shattering his face and the return of the outgoing his fibula and tibia. He arrived on a personality that had been momentarily Sunday afternoon. stifled by gunfire.

He was very outgoing and friendly the

By James B. Silman, MD

STORIES OF WAR

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

Another look at Norman Naval Air Station

By Jim Driscoll and Ralph Cox As told to Aaron Wright Gray

More than half a decade after they served in the U.S. Navy, Norman veterans Jim Driscoll and Ralph Cox return every Wednesday to Ozzie’s Restaurant.

The restaurant is at Max Westheimer airport, which used to be part of the north base of a U.S. Navy base in Norman. Cox served almost four years at that base.

Cox said he joined the Navy because he wanted to be on a ship in water.

Instead, he was stationed in the middle of Oklahoma.

“Well, I was going to be a mechanic and crewman (and) to fight, but I found out I was colorblind,” Cox said.

Driscoll had the same problem. He joined the Navy to be a pilot, then found out he was colorblind. The Navy then sent him to Norman where he attended the Naval Air Technical Training Center. Driscoll was stationed at the south base, about 10 years after Cox had served.

The two veterans met later and bonded over their military service and their mutual love of camping. Both of the men met their wives while serving as well.

Video and slide show Hear more of their stories and .com see the remnants of the Navy bases at www.normantranscript.com /courage.

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OU’s ROTC Class of 1943 goes to war

By Barbara Bowman, daughter Norman

The members of the Army ROTC Class of 1943 were under contract with the military to enter the Army as second lieutenants on completion of the academic work and a six-week military camp. The military cancelled the six-week camp, therefore these people were unable to complete the requirements to become commissioned officers. About this same time, the powers that be decide the only way a man could join the armed forces was through his local draft board. Since the member of ROTC were under contract, they did not have to register with their local draft board. These two factors led the military to offer ROTC members the choice of attending Officers Candidate School (OCS) or being drafted.

The final solution was that these students had to register with their draft board and sign up for immediate induction. They were made corporals and placed in the reserve corps until the end of the school year. (This occurred in March 1943.)

The students at the University of Oklahoma were either in field artillery or the ordnance corps. These students received orders to report to the reception center at Fort Sill, Okla., to be processed into the Army and to proceed either to the OCS unit at Fort Sill or to Aberdeen Proving Grounds, Maryland. The fact that these men were corporals crated a real riot at the reception center. Therefore they were given passes until such time as they had to report to the location of their OCS. The men going to Aberdeen Proving Grounds boarded a train at Fort Sill. Actually, they boarded a Pullman car. They stayed in this one car from Fort Sill to Aberdeen. The car was switched from one railroad company to another when we got to the end of each company’s line.

The military developed a new program in this same frame. It was called Voluntary Officer Candidates (VOC). This program allowed older men to go to OCS and receive a commission. If they washed out, then they were discharged and subject to their local

draft board.

This Officer Candidate School had about an equal number of men fresh out of college and men who had been out of school eight to 10 years. There were a few members in this class who came from the enlisted ranks.

There were guys with varying degrees of civilian experience, young smart alecks fresh out of college and guys who had been through basic training and the school of hard knocks. All this made for some very interesting situations.

Periodically, the candidates were required to rate the members in the barracks to which they were assigned. It was required that you rate the top five and the lowest five by name. Those who were listed on the bottom list by a majority soon disappeared.

Those who remained a the end of 90 days were discharged and immediately commissioned as second lieutenant. Thus was my induction into the military.

I, Henry L. Bowman, was selected to attend a crash course on operating a machine shop. The object of the school was to learn all the basic skills necessary to operate a light maintenance company in direct support to combat lines. The object was to be able to recover and repair damaged vehicles of all sorts. This was a good school and I learned many skills regarding the operation of a Light Maintenance Company.

10 selected for special detail I had just completed the school when the powers that be decided they needed 10 young second lieutenants to solve a problem with worldwide inventory of ordnance supplies. We were to report to the Office of the Chief of Ordnance in Detroit, Mich., on Jan. 1, 1944. The R.L. Pope Co. had a contract to produce a worldwide inventory of all the materials within the Ordnance Department. We spent time there to learn what the problems were. We were sent to more schooling to learn how the accounting system worked. We went to a depot in St. Louis, Mo., to learn about the system in place. Then we were sent to IBM in Endicott, N.Y., to learn how the accounting

machines worked and how to program them. After the problems were solved, we went on to other assignments.

I was assigned to the Storage Branch.

The mission of this branch was to develop policies and procedures for the receipt, proper storage and timely issuance of ordnance material for the troops’ use. This included all types of vehicles, ammunition, artillery shells, cannons, small arms, etc.

There were a number of depots situated around the country. Some of these depots are still in existence today. One program to improve the efficiency of depot operations was to install a work simplification program.

I was assigned as an instructor. These schools were conducted at four locations in various parts of the United States. We traveled by rail from one site to the other.

I was assigned to the Detroit Ordnance District about Sept. 1, 1944. This office spent about 90 cents of each dollar that was spent during World War II for guns, ammunition, vehicles and spare parts. We bought such things as M-1 carbines produced by Saginaw Steering Division of GM, 50 caliber machine guns produced by AC Spark Plug Division of GM, steel helmets produced by McCord Radiator, cannon shells produced

by Kelsey-Hayes Wheel Co., and metallic belt links produced by Nineteen Hundred Corp. The other divisions bought trucks, trailers, tanks, artillery pieces, etc.

As the war began to wind down in Europe, they type of items produced changed. For example, we quit buying heavy cannons and started buying small cannons that could be transported by pack mules.

The surrender of Japan signaled the time to start terminating contracts and to assist manufacturers to return to peacetime production. Each contract had to be terminated and the contractor paid for the work in progress. I spent the next year in reviewing contracts and authorizing payment for work in process material.

I was assigned to the Reserve from Sept.

6, 1946, and returned to the University of Oklahoma to finish my degree in mechanical engineering.

Note: Mr. Bowman died in March 2007.

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STORIES OF WAR

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

Plane shot down, flyer captured by Germans Oklahoman spends duration of war in Germany’s Stalag Luft 1

By Hobart “Bart” Osborn, Army Air Forces Norman

I was a 2nd Lieutenant in WW II. My plane was shot down over the Gulf of Corinth in 1943. About a year and a half before that, in January ’42, I left OU, drove to Oklahoma City and enlisted in the Army Air Forces. I was assigned to the 321st Bomb Squadron and was the navigator of a B-25 nicknamed “The Mitchell”. We had to fly 50 missions to go home. I was about halfway there when German fighter planes ended it all. Instead of going home, I went to a prisoner of war camp near Barth, Germany.

It was his 29th mission Oct. 8, 1943, on my 29th mission, our plane and the 47 other planes in our squadron completed our bombing run on Eleusis Aerodrome in Athens, Greece and were flying back to Grottaglio, Italy. Our fighter planes provided air cover above us. We hadn’t flown far when German fighter planes caught up with us. An air battle followed. Everywhere I looked, I saw German Messerschmitts chasing our planes. Our wing man, a B-25 behind us got hit and was losing altitude.

Our pilot slowed down and dropped out of formation trying to get into position to protect the damaged bomber. We were now trailing the formation and German fighters came after both of us. The other B-25 hit the water and exploded.

Our plane tried to catch up to rejoin the formation.

Fighters were all around us. We were lucky; we had a waist gunner shooting from an opening under each wing. That kept the Germans pretty far back for a while.

However, they shot out our hydraulic system.

We slowed and started losing altitude. Our bombardier was wounded. Our pilot wasn’t reacting. Our bomb bay was hit and a fire started. I ran to the cockpit yelling “ditch! ditch!” The pilot was wounded but belly flopped our plane on the water.

We sank and miraculously, came back up. I yanked the right cord, the side of the plane opened up, the life raft popped out and inflated just like it was supposed to; a miracle.

We scrambled out of the plane and into the raft. We took turns in the water holding on. We watched our plane go nose up and sink for good.

Then and now: Hobart “Bart” Osborn We survived and were jubilant. Then we realized the fighter planes had turned around and were flying low, straight for us. This was it. They will strafe us. Instead, the two German planes did a slow barrel roll above us and flew on toward occupied Greece.

Besides our wounded bombardier, the pilot had a broken arm, and I had a bullet crease along the side of my head for which they gave me the Purple Heart.

Everyone was bruised and cut. Five hours later a German cutter picked us up.

Home front learns of missing son Back home in Enid, my Dad got a telegram saying I was missing in action. Later, I learned that men in other planes reported seeing us ditch, but had flown too far to see us make it into the life raft. All anyone knew is that two bombers were missing, one had exploded and the fate of the other was unknown.

We were quartered for a while in a private home in Athens. Once a day, we exercised for an hour in the yard. When we came outside, a Greek woman in the house next door brought her phonograph player out on her balcony and played Strauss waltzes.

Eventually we were put on a train to Germany.

Someone threw a loaf of bread to us. A German guard caught it, looked it over and passed it to us. It turned out to be full of money and cigarettes. We thought we were rich! Then we heard someone haggling for a cigarette … we were grateful, but not rich.

Bound for Stalag Luft 1 They took us to an interrogation center and eventually to a prisoner of war camp for Air Force officers called Stalag Luft 1 near Barth, Germany, on the Baltic Sea. We were there from 1943 to 1945.

Stalag Luft 1 was under the flight path of bombers going to Berlin or elsewhere. When planes flew over we cheered and yelled “Deutschland Kaputt!” Eventually the Germans put a stop to this by threatening to shoot anyone outside their barracks during a fly over. One poor guy, not realizing planes were overhead, jumped out his barrack window. They shot him.

A British doctor in the camp cared for POWs and I was tapped to donate my O-negative blood. First, they fed me macaroni and cheese, another miracle. I ate until my sides ached. He lived.

The guys in barracks along the outer fence dug escape tunnels. To alert the tunnel diggers that a German guard was around, the code word was “Goonup!” That meant German officer or noncommissioned officer on premise.

The Germans never caught on.

We made it our business to harass the camp guards. I remember an elderly German captain who counted us at morning lineup. He would count “ein,” “zwei,” “drei”, “vier.” Then he interrupted his count to tell a guy to take his hands out of his pockets. He lost track and had to start over. “Ein,” “zwei,” “drei,” “vier” ... “neun, “zehn” ... again he stopped his count to correct someone and couldn’t remember where he was. He began all over again. This became a game and we did our best to regularly disrupt the captain’s morning count.

The senior officers put together a radio. At night they listened to the BBC and passed information about the progress of the war to the rest of us. The radio was dismantled during the day and the pieces were carried by several different officers so the Germans wouldn’t find it. Toward the end of the war, the senior officers hung the BBC reports around the parade ground.

Liberated by the Russians We were liberated by the Russians on May 1, 1945.

Our senior officers wanted us to remain in camp until we were evacuated. We waited. Finally the Russians said, “What are you doing? You’re free! Go!” A few other guys and I went to a nearby brewery. All the bottles were smashed. We hooked up with a Russian captain and went down to the French workers quarters and had a party. They shared their candy bars and whiskey. We gave toasts and sang the anthems of our nations, the French “La Marseillaise,” “The Star Spangled Banner” and a Russian song called roughly, “Pust Kapola.” It was a great night.

We were transported to a pickup station in Brussels.

They provided showers, clean clothes and money. A few of us traveled on to Paris, London and Scotland. I made it home in July 1945.

Thank You for Your Service

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STORIES OF WAR

PAGE 12

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

Airborne soldier endures cold of Korean battlefield

By Helen Love, wife Goldsby

Kenneth Love became very interested in the military during World War II and persuaded his parents to allow him to attend Oklahoma Military Academy his senior year in high school.

He wanted to enlist in the Army after high school but his parents refused to sign permission documents and insisted he attend the Univeristy of Oklahoma in the fall of 1945 since he would not be 18 years of age until late October 1945.

He attended OU the fall semester and after his father passed away in early 1946, enlisted in the Army on March 27, 1946, with the goal of becoming a member of the Airborne.

He was sent to Fort Chaffee, Ark., for basic training and after completion was transferred to Airborne School at Fort Benning, Ga. He was awarded a Parachutist’s Badge and a World War II

Helen Love writes of her husband, Judge J. Kenneth Love, above, who enlisted in the waning days of World War II and was recalled to active duty to serve in Korea.

Victory Medal. He never saw combat as World War II was winding down, but was a member of the 501st Airborne and was attached to the battalion’s demonstration jump team, the 101st Screaming Eagles.

He received an early out on Sept. 26, 1947, with the provision that he remain in the reserves.

Since it was too late to enroll in college that semester, he helped his mother at their ranch in McAlester and enrolled in East Central State College in January 1948.

He had enrolled in his final semester of college when he was recalled to active duty to serve in the Korean “police action” on Sept. 19, 1950, just past the date his tuition fees could be refunded.

He traveled by train to California and boarded a troop ship bound for Japan where they prepared for action in Korea.

He was assigned to the 1st Cavalry Division. The 1st Cavalry was one of the divisions that followed the Sept. 15, 1950, amphibious landing of Allied forces at Inchon.

The Allied troops forced the North Koreans back to about 50 miles south of the Yalu River. Some troops made it even closer and a lot of them thought the war was nearly over. However, on the Sunday after Thanksgiving in 1950, the Chinese

sent 33 divisions to assist the North Koreans and a total of about 300,000 Chinese came storming south across the Yalu. The ROK II Corps (Korean troops) were overrun. The 1st Cavalry replaced them and was pushed back as well.

Kenneth was a part of the group who frantically retreated because they were badly outnumbered.

Cold C-rations and cold nights This retreat disrupted supply lines so troops were forced to eat C-rations. They were not allowed fires for cooking or warmth in the dead of winter with temperatures well below zero and winds to 40 miles per hour. A prized possession was an extra pair of socks so they could keep their feet warm and dry. They discovered it was better to sleep ON their sleeping bags rather than IN them since the ground was frozen. They had one blanket for cover.

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THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

STORIES OF WAR

PAGE 13

Navy dad worked hard to Homefront had its heroes, too share his kids’ childhoods

By Carolyn Parman Deatherage, daughter

Norman

mate. He didn’t report the spill and his Norman personal injury, because it would have taken him away from his family for at James Franklin Parman, our father, least one night and he would have been served in World War II. He was a required to go to the base hospital. He photographer’s mate, 3rd class in the didn’t want to do anything to prolong his U.S. Navy. Both he and his time away from family. wife, Lauretta, were Many people have no involved with education in photographs of their the western part of young parents, but that is Oklahoma. Daddy was not the case with ours. county superintendent and Because he was in mom was a teacher.

Photography School, there Because so many are many selfteachers had been drafted photographed shots and into the service, he shots made of other instituted his own audioservicemen, some of visual program taking whom became good educational films to rural James Franklin Parman: friends. schools, including oneIn the time shortly after James and two-room schools. In Parman’s full @ he was discharged from .com no other way could these story is at the Navy, Oct. 10, 1945, rural students, many of he continued his educawhom had never been out of the county, tion and gained certification to be school have learned by observation about other administrator. Over the course of several cultures and countries. years, he went to summer school and It was a rare treat for them to see the took short courses, traveling from sights and sounds of South America, Cordell to Norman in order to achieve India or China. Margaret Friedrich, a his goal and earning his master’s degree teacher at Bessie School in those dark from the University of Oklahoma. war years, wrote an article in Prairie Lore All the while, he was very ill with about daddy, saying “he was an innovaarthritic and stomach symptoms and was tive person and encouraged others to try just barely able to tolerate holding a job new ways of teaching in a changing and trying to improve himself academisociety.” cally. In my mother’s opinion, his disease Even though he was the father of was never clearly understood by the three children, he was drafted on April physicians who treated him and it was 20, 1944, and went for training in San just experimental treatment.

Diego, Pensacola, Anacostia and Because it was so difficult for my Norfolk. mother to go from Cordell to Oklahoma Daddy loved photography and City in order to see him, our parents considered his training in the military a decided to move to Norman. My older great help for what he hoped would be a brother and sister were already enrolled new career, and in his usual cheerful in the university and my parents wanted outlook on life, he decided to make the to be able to utilize the university to best of the situation. While in the Navy, further their children’s educations. In the he was exposed to a carbon tetrachloride fall of 1957, we moved to Norman and spill in the photo lab where he was my mother began teaching at Lincoln assigned to work as a photographer’s Elementary.

By Carolyn Parman Deatherage, daughter

When we consider heroic behavior during war, let’s remember the women who were left “back home” to work as Rosie the Riveter or in the case of my mother, as a trained teacher who kept the family together and made a living for keeping the family afloat while Daddy was in the Navy during World War II. Once when my father came home on leave, he asked her to resign her teaching job, pack up the children and a few belongings and go back with him so he could have some part in the children’s lives as they grew up.

When he was drafted, my parents already had three children.

Mom had three days to quit her job as a teacher and pack up everything they needed to take along to begin again in a home in Norfolk. From what I can tell by reading old letters, we lived in Monticello Village, a housing project in Norfolk, Va., where sailors and their families could find affordable housing.

She had to learn to use a coal stove for cooking. My grandfather mailed mother’s washing machine to her because she couldn’t buy one. All metal was rationed for building airplanes and bullets for the war.

When the six moths were over and it was time for Mom to drive back to Oklahoma, Daddy could not go with her and she had to drive with the three children, not knowing if she would have enough money, fuel or tread left on the

Lauretta Parman: Serviceman’s wife holds family together so that he can know his children. tires to make it.

One did not stop at McDonald’s then.

She had to have food for all of us and any provisions the family might need along the way. She said a service station owner along the way allowed her to buy a new tire for which she had no ration coupon just because he felt sorry for her and could see her sincere plight.

She got back home to Oklahoma and secured another job teaching, but when she saw the opportunity, she would go to be with him even if it were only for two or three weeks just so he could get to know his children.

Lauretta Parman was a World War II hero as well!!

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STORIES OF WAR

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

PAGE 15

Enclosed is an article for your paper.

I was a USAF security policeman, a “Blue Beret” -- the light infantry of the Air Force, for 20 years.

Now my wife and I own and run the D&S Petro convenience story in Purcell.

The article I am sending, though written by me, is not about me, but about a sergeant who saved hundreds of Vietnamese lives back in 1976 while we were in Thailand.

Staff Sgt. David Scott, armed with a M-60 machine gun, while stationed in -- David Scott, Taegu, South Korea. Scott, who now lives in Purcell, writes about fellow Purcell Blue Beret, Sgt. Tony Lopez.

Purcell Blue Beret recalls the day hundreds were saved I

t was spring 1976 and I was working tower guard when I heard a call go over the radio. It was Sgt. Tony Lopez, the sector supervisor and it seemed like all hell was breaking loose.

Sgt. Lopez was from San Juan, Puerto Rico. He was barrel-chested and powerfully built. He was an old Asian hand who liked his beer and was married to a Thai.

So what was the big deal?

“Hundreds of Vietnamese ‘boat people’ were swarming over the beach,” he said.

Sgt. Glenn, the central security controller, ordered: “Keep them on the beach.

The Thais are not giving permission for them to enter their country.”

“You tell them,” yelled Lopez over the radio. “They’re not listening to me. They are requesting asylum. They want to speak to the Supreme American Commander.”

“That’s a negative; we do not have Thai permission,” the CSC said.

A few minutes later, Sgt. Lopez called CSC, “There’s too many refugees, old men, women, kids. I can’t stop them. I gave them permission for asylum.”

“You did what?” the CSC yelled.

“I gave them permission,” replied Lopez.

For what seemed like a lifetime (moments only had passed) there was silence over the radio, but you could hear the “lifers” at HQ having heart attacks over this.

Finally, CSC said, “Sgt. Lopez, why did you give political asylum to these people (refugees)?”

And Sgt. Lopez said this: “Because they are looking for freedom. No senior American officially showed up. I’m an American, so I gave them asylum.”

Again there was silence from CSC, but you could hear other SPs chirping in over the radio with “awright!” and “yeah!” we were proud of what Sgt. Lopez had done.

Sgt. Lopez was called to CSC and received a royal chewing for his action but he still kept his three stripes and was allowed to go to his base of choice in June, which was South Korea.

“Bravo,” Sgt. Lopez, for a guy who looked like a cross between a bull and the devil, you sure saved a lot of lives that day.

Photos and text provided by David Scott Originally printed as “Freedom,” by Airman 1st Class David Scott, U-Tapao, Thailand, 635th Air Base Defense Squadron (SP) Dragon Flight

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STORIES OF WAR

PAGE 16

Charles M. Biege, World War I

William Jennings Bryan Jr., Korea

By Brenda Jennings Norman, daughter

Army Private Charles Monroe Biege, from Konowa, Okla., served in World War I with the 138th engineers.

Joseph Cephus Parker, World War I

By Debra A. Parker

Joseph Cephus Parker saw service in World War I and later worked for the Veterans Administration hospital in Danville, Ill. I don’t know much about him. He came to Oklahoma with his family right around the turn of the last century. They settled in Pawhuska, in Osage County. He was

Airman stood his ground

By Brenda Jennings

Norman, granddaughter

Norman, great-niece

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

the youngest of the Parker children.

There’s a portrait of him in his dough boy uniform and a photo of him in later life at the VA. Beyond that, all I have is his American Legion ring.

He was buried in the family plot on a hill in the old part of Pawhuska Cemetery, his grave marked with an American Legion medallion.

By Glen D. Parker, U.S. Air Force as told to Debra A. Parker, The Transcript

William Jennings Bryan Jr. served in the U.S. Navy from January 1951 to November 1953, joining from his home in Guymon, Okla. He served aboard the USS Tarawa and was an instructor and link trainer prior to his honorable discharge. He was awarded the National Defense Service Medal, Good Conduct Medal and Navy Occupation Service Medal.

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Former Air Force Staff Sgt. Glen D. Parker was an AP. For the unschooled, that means air police; nowadays, they’re called Blue Berets.

He was on the security detail responsible for guarding Staff Sgt. sensitive areas and Glen D. Parker equipment. He also was charged with controlling entry into areas containing aerospace operational resources; in this case jet fuel for the F100 Super Sabers deployed at Bien Hoa Air Base, Vietnam.

It was the standing of his post during the take off of the Super Sabers, with the deafening boom of their thruster burns, that eventually led to the governmentrecognized hearing loss that plagues him today.

But this story is of a bit younger man -Airman Parker – and why he was promoted to sergeant and recommended for an Air Force Commendation Medal.

On a summer night in 1965, the young airman was stationed at Bien Hoa. The following account is outlined in a copy of his efficiency report, known in military parlance as an E.R. The report included his recommendation for citation.

FACTS AND SPECIAL ACHIEVEMENTS: Airman Parker has demonstrated a thorough knowledge in all phases of internal security by his outstanding duty performance.

While performing duty as entry controller, he has on several occasions proven that this is an airman who can be depended upon to carry out promptly and effectively the spirit and intent of all special orders and squadron security instructions.

He has been complimented many times by officers and noncommissioned officers of the Air Police Squadron for his outstanding duty performance.

During the mortar attack on Bien Hoa

on 24 August 1965, he demonstrated outstanding ability to perform with maximum effectiveness when faced with the most extreme hazardous conditions.

Mortar rounds were exploding only a short distance from his post at POL storage area, but he remained on his post to guard against any possible ground attack or penetration by the Viet Cong.

STRENGTHS: Airman Parker is alert to offer assistance to associates when help is needed and is a very good team worker which results in maximum effectiveness.

His military bearing and behavior, both on and off duty, has set an example for all to follow. He is loyal to his squadron and the United States Air Force.

OTHER COMMENTS: Due to his exemplary action, courage and devotion to duty, Airman Parker has been recommended for the Air Force Commendation Medal for serving in the Republic of Vietnam.

The recommendation was by signed by Staff Sgt. Donald L. Sears and sent up the chain of command to Master Sgt. Andrew W. Johnson and finally was endorsed and supported by 1st Lt. Larry P. Simcoe.

Said Johnson: “Airman Parker has continually demonstrated devotion to duty.”

In concurring with the recommendation, Simcoe said, “This Airman has demonstrated by his attitude, appearance and duty performance that he deserves this unusually high rating.”

At the end of his enlistment, the Air Force Commendation Medal was among his citations.

Parker’s loyalty to his country and his brothers in arms continues today. He works with his fellow veterans helping them secure benefits through Veterans’ Corner. And on three occasions he has rendered honors to the fallen by traveling to ceremonies at the Vietnam Memorial in Washington, D.C., and taking his turn to read from the list of names inscribed on The Wall.

Glen Parker is not related to Transcript Editor Debra A. Parker.

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

STORIES OF WAR

PAGE 17

Victory’s price too high for medical corps vet

By Marcus W. Adams, U.S. Army Norman

I was a medical company commander in the 1st Cavalry Division (Air Mobile) that went to Vietnam in September 1965.

In November, the 1st Brigade, to which I was attached, relieved the 2nd Brigade, which had just defeated the North Vietnam regular army regiment in the Battle of the Ia Drang Valley ... at what cost I was soon to see.

When we deplaned from the tailgate of our Caribou and started to form up, we went right by dead soldiers stacked up like cord wood.

They were covered by a tarp, but their feet were sticking out with their boots held on and tied together with commo wire.

It is sight I have never forgotten ... and I hope to never see anything like it again.

Trip home from Vietnam allows for good-natured payback

By Lt. Col. Jimmy Martin, U.S. Air Force, Norman

When I was assigned to Vietnam in 1966, my wife, Maudie, decided to share an apartment in Phoenix with Jeanie, the wife of my friend, Guy Eels, who was going to Vietnam with me.

We flew F-4s out of Cam Ranh Bay. After a long year and more than 200 combat missions each, our time to rotate home came and we had a port call to fly to Seattle on a Pan Am charter flight leaving Cam Ranh Bay on Nov. 2, 1967.

It was a stretched DC-8 that stopped in Hawaii to refuel en route to Seattle. We had booked a connecting flight out of Seattle to Phoenix.

Now the aerial port where we were to catch the flight home was run by the Army even though it was on an Air Force base. (Why, I don’t know.) On this particular day, the Army moved the departure time for the flight up by two hours and told all the Army guys, but “forgot” to tell the Air Force people. (Imagine.)

So, when Guy and I got to the aerial port we were already behind the proverbial 8ball. We dashed through the processing as quickly as we could and finally got booked

on the aircraft only minutes before departure.

We were congratulating ourselves on making it when they announced that the aircraft was full and there were several military people on emergency leave status.

And since emergency leave took precedence over normal port calls, they would have to bump some people off the flight.

They started with the last people booked on the flight. So, all the Army people were safe and only Air Force people got bumped.

Listening for your name to be called was pure torture because we had counted so much on going home. As it worked out, I was the last person bumped and Guy made the flight.

At the top of the stairs before entering the aircraft Guy turned to me with a big smile, waved and said, “Anything you want me to tell Maudie when I get home?”

I felt like my world had come to an end.

I immediately ran to the ticket counter and asked about the next flight. The Army ticket agent said the next flight was in four hours, but they couldn’t book me on that flight because I didn’t have a port call. They told me I was now in standby status behind the people with a port call and behind the people on emergency leave. In short, I had

no chance of making the next flight and it might be weeks before I could get a new port call.

As they say, to make a long story short, after much “negotiating” I managed to get booked on the next flight. But, I couldn’t relax even after I was on the aircraft until we were airborne. I wouldn’t get home with Guy, but at least I was on the way.

After we were airborne I found out I was on a regular DC-8 that carried less passengers than the stretch version and had enough fuel to go direct to Seattle without a refueling stop.

Therefore, thanks to an understanding customs agent in Seattle and running all the way from my arrival gate to the departure gate, I made the connecting flight. I was literally the last passenger on, and they closed the door right behind me. I didn’t know if my bags made it or not, but I didn’t care. I was nearly home!

Guy’s aircraft didn’t get to Seattle in time for him to make the connecting flight and it was the last flight out of Seattle that night.

So, he got to spend the night there.

I had a layover in San Francisco and I called Maudie about 2:30 a.m. to let her know when to meet me at the airport.

When she answered the telephone, she

said Guy had called from Hawaii and told them I had been bumped and was still in Vietnam.

I told her “Yes and no. I was bumped, but I’m in San Francisco now.”

I told her I would explain it all when she picked me up at the airport at 8 a.m. the next day. She told me Guy had called from Seattle to say he was stuck there for the night. I told her to tell Jeanie not to tell Guy where I was if he called again.

I got to Phoenix at 8 a.m. the next day and Guy’s flight didn’t arrive until 11 a.m. I asked Jeanie not to tell Guy I was home when she picked him up and she agreed. She only said “Have you got a surprise!”

When Guy opened the door to the apartment, the first thing he saw was me sitting on the couch.

I gave him a big smile and said, “Hi, Guy, where’ve you been?”

He was literally speechless as his jaw dropped.

The look on his face was priceless. He finally stammered, “But, but, how…?”

I just told him I had called the president and left him to wonder how I could possibly have beaten him home.

Pay back was sweet!

And, yes, we remained friends.

STORIES OF WAR

PAGE 18

New buddy killed when ship hit by German U-boat

By Bill Mannick, U.S. Navy as told to Aaron Wright Gray

Bill Mannick met and lost one of his best friends while serving in the Navy in World War II. He met Dave on the train on the way to boot camp. Mannick said they became like brothers.

When boarding ships for a mission to France, the two were separated.

“They elected his ship to go back to England and get ammunition and stuff,” Mannick said.

On the way to England, Dave’s ship was hit by a German torpedo and Dave died.

That wasn’t the end of their story, however.

When Mannick finished his service with the Navy in 1947, he went to live with Dave’s parents. He stayed there until he married.

Mannick’s own parents had died before he had joined the Navy, at just 17 years old. He had met Dave’s parents once while visiting with Dave during a leave.

The most impactful moment of the war for Mannick was during his time shipping soldiers to the beaches at Normandy. In between tearful breaks, Mannick, still obviously troubled by his memories of that battle, related his experience coming right up to the beach to deliver Army soldiers, only a year or so after being sent overseas.

“You want to know who the heroes are?” he asked. “Army.”

Hear more of .com Mannick’s story at www.normantranscript.com/courage.

@

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

Remembering Leyte, fateful Kamikaze attack

By Ken Gastgeb, HQ, 435th Bomb Group Norman

The 345th Bomb Group left Biak in the Pacific in early October for a destination unknown to us.

We, in headquarters, were assigned to the Liberty Ship USS Nelson along with members of the 498th and 499th Squadrons. We were the last group to get on board. All of the below-deck sleeping areas were taken.

Several of us got together and put up a tarp on deck and used that area as our home for the voyage. About an hour or so after leaving Biak we stopped, as one of the men became ill and had to be returned to Biak for medical treatment.

We headed southeast to Hollandia, to refuel and take on fresh water. When getting in position to refuel we came close to running into the fuel ship. The next day we weighed anchor, steamed out of Hollandia and joined a huge convoy headed north.

Then rumors were flying as to where we were going.

We hadn’t heard of any new invasions. A couple of days at sea, we found out that we were headed for the Philippines.

The invasion of Leyte, an island in the Philippines, took place on October 20. We arrived at Leyte Gulf on Sunday evening October 29, “D-Day” plus nine.

When looking for a place in the harbor to anchor, our ship ran into a small naval craft that was anchored. No one was hurt but the craft was damaged. It was rumored that the little ship was loaded with depth charges. At one of the reunions after the war I found out that the pilot and others were talking and not watching where we were going.

Bomb group camp in the Philippines.

The rest of the story: For Ken Gastgeb’s entire story, see www.normantranscript.com/courage

@

Japanese convoys headed for Leyte, or some other vital Allied target.

.com

men and many were wounded. After the attack, all personnel still remaining aboard the ships were brought ashore.

They brought tents, and we all got together and moved to set up camp in a vacant field. That night it rained, as usual and it didn’t take long for the water to leak into the tent. During the night I got up and put all of my belongings on my cot to keep them dry. The area was soon covered with several inches of water. We appeared to be in the middle of a lake.

The next day we moved out of the lake to higher grounds along the beach.

The beach was a nice area for swimming. Also we inflated a mattress and used it as a floatation device to float around on and ride the waves along the shore. That Kamikaze strike gave us something to do while we waited On Nov. 12, 1944, the Japanese launched for an airstrip to be constructed and our Kamikaze aircraft attacks against the ships planes ferried up from Biak.

Our planes were flying courier missions lying at anchor in Leyte Gulf. from Biak to an airfield on Leyte. SomeBoth ships transporting 345th Bomb times the planes would be pressed into Group’s men and supplies were hit. Also flying what almost amounted to suicide hit was the ship carrying personnel of the missions as they mounted attacks against 5th Bomber Command. Our group lost 110

Christmas takes a hit Christmas had almost arrived when we got some bad news. A ship transporting Christmas parcels for our area had been sunk by a Jap sub.

However, there were parcels that got through on other ships with a lot of mail.

Danny O’Brien produced a makeshift Christmas tree, made from a Santa Claus and went around to each tent with a jolly “Ho, Ho and a Merry Christmas.” Our Christmas dinner was delayed a day so we celebrated with turkey, etc. the day after Christmas.

Near the end of December the air field at Tacloban was operational. We moved to Tacloban and set up camp and continued operations from there for a month or so then moved up to Luzon.

The first two months after arriving at Leyte we had witnessed about 200 Japanese air raid alerts.

The Liberty Ship survivors from the 345th Bomb Group spent a sad Christmas on a lonely beach in the Philippines back in 1944. Our minds often wonder back to that Christmas on the beach as we remember the tragic loss of so many of our buddies caused by the Kamikaze attack.

STORIES OF WAR

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

PAGE 19

This outfit found German money to burn, sort of

By Michael T. Lategola, U.S. Army Norman

I enlisted in the Army in December, 1942.

Following basic training at Fort Hood, Texas, and one semester in the Army Specialized Training Program at Northeastern University in Boston, Mass., I became a member of M Company, 101st Infantry Regiment, 26th Division on manuevers in Tennessee in April, 1944.

After further Infrantry training at Fort Jackson, Columbia, S.C., our division shipped overseas in late August 1944 and on Sept. 7, 1944, landed on Utah Beach near Cherloug, France. I was a member of an 81 millimeter mortar squad throughout the remaining eight months of the war in Europe.

We initially remained in the Cherloug area for furhter infantry combat training and as a blocking force to prevent the escape of German forces trapped on the Brittany Peninsula on Oct. 7, 1944, we went into full combat action East of Nancy, France as part of Gen. George S. Patton’s 3rd Army. We fought in a major offensive there until relieved on Dec. 10, 1944, and moved

to Meiz, France, to replenish man power and supplies.

Although not completely re-equipped, on Dec. 20, we were trucked northward to the Belgium/Luxenbourg area for the Battle of the Bulge.

This winter battle lasted for us until Jan. 29, 1945, in Clervaux. On Dec. 25, 1944, the temperature fell below freezing and remained below freezing until Jan. 29, 1945.

Over the next several months we fought our way into and across Germany. On Palm Sunday, we crossed the Rhine River on a pontoon bridge under heavy artillery and aircraft fire.

A bit of ironic humor On March 14, 1945, we ran across a German army payroll truck that had been hit and abandoned.

It contained many bundled stacks of German paper currency (marks).

Assuming this currency was no longer of any monetary value, we took most of it for much-needed use as toilet paper, which was always in short supply.

Thank You To All of Our Veterans and Service Men and Women Jack Bondi James R. Adair Hugh G. Coleman Leonard Lilly Douglas E. Vaughn Vernon Swafford Jeff Tidwell Howard Robbins

John Martin Carl Morrell Alvin King T.K. Keller Robert Allen Link Nelms Harry Buck Robert Quinett James Montgomery

Orville Hunt John Lloyd Otis Cox Vernon Key Gene Whitehead Lloyd Kirtley John Guidice Dominick Nunziato

By the war’s end we had used all of it. Ironically, we discovered later, that for several weeks after the war’s end in Europe, German currency was redeemable on a one-to-one basis with American dollars!

Camp liberated On March 28, we liberated a large group of Russian soldiers from a German prisoner-of-war camp near Hanou, Germany.

On April 25, we rescued a large group of German political prisoners from a death march near the town of Posing, Germany.

We fought all the way across Germany into Sudentenland, Czechoslovakia, where the war ended on May 8, 1945.

During the post-war Germany Occupation served as a guitarist with our regimental entertainment unit. But, that’s another story for another time.

Our regiment shipped homeward out of Marseilles, France in Dec. 1945, and I was discharged at Fort Devens, Mass. in January 1946.

PAGE 20

STORIES OF WAR

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

A genuine Oklahoma ‘Yankee Doodle Dandy’ “It’s a good day!” my Dad would always say with smile.

“Nobody’s shooting at me!”

Such was the always grateful and ever optimistic attitude of a genuine Oklahoma “Yankee Doodle Dandy,” retired Marine Col. Roscoe Lloyd Barrett Jr., who left his beloved Norman, Okla., for the last time in 2007 for sacred ground — Arlington National Cemetery.

Born on July 4, 1925, as a boy he used to go around thanking all his neighbors for putting out the flag on his birthday. Little did he or they know at the time that this particular little boy would (in addition to doing so many wonderful things in his life) grow up and join the United States Marine Corps at 17; serve in three wars; become a highly decorated officer (including the Silver Star, the Purple Heart, and Two Legions of Merit); retire a full colonel in 1970; and ultimately move his family from Washington, D.C., to Norman, where he would happily spend the rest of his life.

And yet, if you were to have asked him about his distinguished military career, he would humbly and succinctly just sum it all up by simply saying “Well, I served in three wars, got shot at in two, and hit in one.” Again, always with a smile.

He was a man who was not just born on the Fourth of July — he lived it, every day of his life. He never took a single day of his life for granted, and he never failed to look for the best in others, or in his own life — especially after Nov. 28, 1950.

-- Tod J. Barrett, son Norman

Honors rendered as one of ‘The Chosin Few’ laid to rest in Arlington First Lt. Roscoe Lloyd Barrett Jr., United States Marine Corps Reserve was a rifle platoon leader of Company H, 3rd Battalion, 1st Marines, 1st Marine Division (Reinforced). The Chinese poured across the border. In an instant, his sergeant and his radio man, standing next to him, one to his left, one to his right — gone. The eternal mystery of battle, born of sheer chaos, which in the blink of an eye determines so coldly, so brutally, and with such utter finality, who will have the opportunity to continue to enjoy the gifts and opportunities of this life — love, laughter, children, grandchildren — and who, for some inexplicable reason, will not.

There was even one point (my Dad would tell me when I was grown) — lying alone in sub-zero temperatures, wounded, with the enemy about to overtake his position — that he pulled out his sidearm and began thinking he wasn’t going to make it — that he would just go ahead and take care of things himself before the Chinese got him. All of his 26 years of life — all the birthday parties; high school plays; tennis; going out on the town in Houston with his buddies — all of it had somehow brought him to this single moment in time on some frozen battlefield half a world away from everything he had ever known, and all that he had ever loved.

But in that darkest of moments on that darkest of nights, something deep inside made him stop — the presence of the Lord, he would say without any pretense, apology or hesitation — and he holstered his sidearm. And he waited. He waited for help to arrive, or for his last stand against the enemy — whichever arrived first. Help arrived first.

Forever changed A moment of grace that changed his life forever, he would say. A moment of grace that he carried with him every single day for the rest of his life. A moment of grace that would end up touching the lives of so many over the course of his life — starting at Chosin.

“Learning that enemy troops had penetrated exposed leftflank positions while he was directing the reorganization of his command post during an attack by numerically superior enemy forces at Hagaru-ri, First Lieutenant Barrett moved to the point of penetration in the face of intense enemy small-arms, mortar, automatic-weapons and artillery fire and personally directed and coordinated fire of his left flank squad to cover the infiltration. Selecting a hazardous observation post, he called for mortar fire within several yards of his front lines and, continually exposing himself to heavy hostile fire, checked and adjusted his platoon positions until the enemy breakthrough was sealed and the attack contained. Although painfully wounded by a hostile phosphorous shell and stunned by a grenade which bounced off his helmet and exploded nearby, he constantly moved among his men to encourage them throughout the night and administered aid to the wounded in the subzero temperature until the enemy attack ceased at dawn.” So reads the citation for the Silver Star Medal which he was awarded for his actions at Chosin (Hagaru-ri).

Chosin — the name is legendary in the Marine Corps. Those Marines who fought there, and lived, are known simply as “The Chosin Few.” But at the time, it was all just about the fighting — hand to hand at times — and simply trying to make it to another

sunrise.

It was in this context that my Dad told me he went to see his commanding officer after that first horrific night of battle – the very first time he had ever been in combat. Dad told me he looked at his commanding officer and told him that he was sorry, but if that was what combat was like – if that was what it was going to be like every night, all the time – he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to make it.

“Lieutenant,” his commanding officer replied in an emphatic and somehow reassuring manner, “don’t you know, that that was some of the toughest fighting the Marine Corps has seen in its entire history.” And so it was.

Many, many years later – about 1999 – two gentlemen located my Dad and came by to visit him at his home on Smoking Oak Road in Norman. I went over to meet them, and took my own son, who was about 6 at the time. Remember the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life”? Well this was that movie in real life, as one of the men looked me square in the eye and said “I want you to know that if it wasn’t for your Dad, the two of us wouldn’t be here . . . we never would have made it through that night.”

Grace revisited Less than six months after Chosin (Hagaru-ri), in March 1951, 1st. Lt. Barrett was again a Rifle Platoon Leader of Headquarters and Service Company, 3rd Battalion, 1st Marines, 1st Marine Division (Reinforced).

And once again, that moment of grace from that hellish night at Chosin only months before touched the lives of Lt. Barrett and others again, this time at Hongchon.

“When his platoon was assigned the dual mission of assaulting an enemy position and Please see CHOSIN, Page 21

Some points in Col. Barrett’s life chronicled in a slide show at

@

.com

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

STORIES OF WAR

Chosin: Some of the toughest fighting in Marine history From Page 20 maneuvering to protect the battalion’s right flank in the vicinity of Hongchon, First Lieutenant Barrett fearlessly led his unit in seizing the initial objective in the face of an intense hostile mortar barrage and, despite extreme fatigue, carried out a thorough reconnaissance of the area before initiating the next attack. Although subjected to heavy enemy mortar, automatic-weapons and small-arms fire from his front, right flank and rear, he bravely moved forward to observe the hostile emplacements and, locating the positions occupied by an enemy knee mortar and two machine guns, secured a rocket squad, personally pointed out the targets and directed effective rocket fire on the objectives until all the hostile weapons were neutralized.” So reads the citation for the Gold Star, in lieu of a second Silver Star medal, which he was awarded for his actions at Hongchon.

This citation for the Gold Star continues: “By his outstanding leadership, marked courage and expert tactical skill in the employment of his platoon, First Lieutenant Barrett was greatly instrumental in the complete routing of the enemy force. . . .” But like so many of his generation, he’d be the last to talk about himself, or about his actions, or consider himself a hero.

He went on to also serve in Vietnam in 1967-68, including as Executive Officer of 1st Marine Regiment, and he was awarded the Legion of Merit with Combat ‘V’ for his service with the 1st Marine Division. (But that’s another war . . . and another story). He would later be awarded a second Legion of Merit, and retire a full Colonel in 1970, having served in three wars, and having been awarded the Silver Star; the Gold Star; the Purple Heart; the Legion of Merit with Combat ‘V’; a second Legion of Merit; Presidential Citation Award with three Stars; Organized Marine Corps Reserve Medal; American Campaign Medal; Victory Medal (WWII); National Defense Service Medal with Star; Korean Service Medal with 4 Stars; United Nations Service Medal; Presidential Unit Citation; Vietnam Campaign Medal and Device; Combat Action Ribbon; Vietnam Service Medal with 4 Stars; and RVAF MUC Gallantry Cross with Frame and Palm.

And still, like so many of his generation who fought and served, if you had seen him around town — maybe at Homeland, or the bank, or wherever — you would have probably never known any of this. You would have probably never known all that he had been through, all that he had accomplished, all that he had suffered, and all that he had sacrificed for this nation.

Instead, you may have known him only as the always cheerful, kind and optimistic individual who loved

Norman and who volunteered his CPA services for the Cleveland County League of Women Voters; or who worked with the Cleveland County Mental Health Association; or who was a campaign chair for United Way in Norman.

Or perhaps you may have known him only in his later years as that very same cheerful, kind and optimistic individual you’d see at Wal-Mart every Tuesday morning; or at Homeland shopping for freeze pops for his grandkids; or at the OU senior water aerobics class, leading all of his friends in singing along to “Play That Funky Music White Boy” whenever it came on during their daily workout.

He lived well by being grateful each and every day for his life and for his liberty. He lived well by sharing and spreading that spirit of gratitude and optimism to everyone he met all the days of his life. His undeniable joy for life and his immeasurable sense of gratitude were self-evident in all that he said and all that he did.

Your only hint about his past – all that he had endured, all that he had sacrificed, all that he had seen, and all that he had been required to do in service for his country — might have been a simple, blue ball cap. A simple, blue ball cap that he often wore when he was out and about. A simple, blue ball cap that he always wore with quiet pride and deep humility. A simple, blue ball cap that I now keep for him in my office at home. A simple, blue ball cap that says “The Chosin Few.” That might have been your only hint. That — and the ever-present twinkle in his eyes, and warmth of his smile, as if he had some wonderful secret that he couldn’t wait to share with you.

As with so many in his generation who fought for our freedom, there was just something different about him.

Something special. Something good, and decent, and honorable. Something that can only be found in those who have actually faced the enemy on the battlefield.

Something that can only be seen in the eyes of those who have fought — actually fought — for others, and for something greater than themselves.

It’s a good day!” my Dad would always say with smile.

“Nobody’s shooting at me!”

When you live your life that way, every day is the Fourth of July.

So here’s to you, Dad! Happy Birthday! I love you!

And here’s to every individual man and woman who has ever served or is now serving in our nation’s armed forces! Thank you! Thank you for all you have done!

Thank you for all that you do!

Because of you ... It’s a good day!

PAGE 21

At rest in a garden of stone Retired Marine Col. Roscoe Lloyd Barrett Jr. passed from this world on April 11, 2007, after a brief illness. His body was laid to rest with full military honors at Arlington National Cemetery on June 25, 2007.

Photos and text provided by Todd J. Barrett

PAGE 22

STORIES OF WAR

Recruit loved chow, jumping out of planes

By Teresa Dotson, daughter Norman

Leroy Tullius grew up as a farmhand in Cleveland County, until he enlisted in the U.S. Army in 1943 at the age of 20.

He said that the first thing that impressed him was the Army food, which he loved.

He immediately joined the Paratroopers Corps, 11th Airborne, and later would tell his kids and grandkids "the first airplane I ever flew on, I had to jump out of."

Two boys meet, one surrenders

By Patsy Jeffress, wife Norman

This is a tribute to my husband, Earnest Kendall Jeffress, who passed away Feb. 11, 2009.

Earnest Kendall Jeffress joined the Navy after graduating from Northwest Classen High School in Oklahoma City.

He was 17 years old and had to have his mother’s permission to join. After basic, he was stationed in Hawaii for eight months, then deployed to Tinian in the Mariana Islands.

One day he had a little time and went out looking for souvenirs, when a Japanese soldier jumped out of the undergrowth. Earnest started to run and the soldier ran after him, yelling and waving his arms.

He saw that Earnest didn’t have a gun, and he didn’t have one either. Then Earnest realized the Japanese soldier

wanted to surrender. So, he had the soldier walk in front of him. When he got back, he turned the Japanese soldier over to the MPs.

STORIES OF WAR

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PAGE 23

Letter home tells story of grueling routine day in Iraq

By Phil Gilstrap, father Hodgen, Okla.

Attached is a letter from our son, William Gilstrap, who was an Army specialist with the 4th Infantry Division (1/22-4ID) Task Force Ironhorse in Tikrit, Iraq - Saddam’s hometown. It was dated 26 October 2003, the week after several helicopters were shot down in the Sunni Triangle. He was 23 at the time.

Will wasn’t always so down, actually most of his correspondence was upbeat.

This was just a bad day for him. The original letter was handwritten and difficult to read, so I transcribed it. I've edited out quite a bit of personal stuff and corrected his spelling. It was the first letter to graphically describe some of the action he saw. I sent this to CNN for their New Year’s day morning program, they read a portion of it on the air.

About 10 weeks after we received this

(Jan. 4, 2004, just two weeks after his unit captured Saddam) Will was shot in an ambush while on foot patrol in Tikrit.

Thankfully, he survived his wounds and is currently living in Norman.

Hi Mom & Pop, It's 0947 Sunday morning, we have a patrol at 1200 to 1400…. It's been really crazy here lately. Just yesterday an Apache was shot down. It takes more than a RPG to shoot one of those down. We could see the smoke rising over the clutter of rooftops. We were patrolling…when it came over the company frequency, “Apache down!

Apache down!”… we were too far out to make a difference so we turned back to our patrol…

Rounding onto Gate road, our last stretch to the compound, children play soccer (football to them) in an open field in the corner of Crenshaw and Gate. I'm

Lone sailor survives oil tanker sinking

By Zee Howell, U.S. Navy as told to Aaron Wright Gray

@

It was midnight on an oil tanker in the early 1940s. Zee Howell, a member of the U.S. Navy, had just finished his guard shift and gone to bed when a torpedo hit one side of the ship he was on.

This one didn’t explode.

The next one, the one that hit the area where 57 men were sleeping, did make an impact, killing all but one sailor, Howell, the lone survivor.

“How? I don’t know,” he said.

His ship was the first one believed sunk at sea in World War II. After this incident, Howell turned from working on oil tankers to studying deep sea diving, which he did for the remainder of his years in the Navy.

Howell joined the U.S. Navy in 1940 in order to provide for his mother and siblings who were living on a farm east of Duncan.

“We were just barely getting by,”

Howell said, adding that it was the years of the Great Depres.com sion.

Although he joined before the war began, Howell said people who were connected to politics and in-the-know when it came to military affairs warned him that war could be coming and advised him to join to get a feel for the service before the war. Howell took their advice and remained a member of the Navy for six years, earning the rank of Boatswain’s Mate 1st Class.

Being on that sinking ship was the most defining moment of Howell’s war experience.

“I had a good many friends on that ship, you know,” he said. “I think about their families from time to time.”

Howell said that he has connected with some of the families of those who died on the ship, particularly one family from Muskogee.

To hear this story and others from Zee Howell, visit www.normantranscript.com

the last man so I turn to watch the rear as the main body follows point man west. As soon as I turn, automatic small arms fire cuts through the air deafening all other noises; children playing, traffic passing and honking, nationals conversing and laughing.

When I turned I saw the ground where the dirt and concrete was spraying into the air about twenty meters away. I took cover behind a palm tree in the median on Gate road only for a brief moment. We ran toward the fire, which we always do (they must think we're nuts, which is good) but they were gone when we turned the corner. I could smell the gunpowder from where they were just seconds before. AK shells were strewn about near some foliage at the corner of an abandoned house … A woman said she saw a car speed away, we got the description. A few minutes later a car matching turned the corner, our whole squad lit it up (I'm

surprised it didn't explode)... The guy was shot in the knee. I was amazed that was all. His car was wrecked… I'm glad we didn't kill him…

We got home much later than scheduled, I sneaked a shower then we went back out.

It's been getting crazy again, and yesterday really hit it home. It feels like we're losing now. Or maybe we were never winning. One minute we're up and heroes and then the next we're down and lives are lost.

Tell people what I say. Tell them how little kids playing soccer had to run away from AK-47 fire. Let them know what happened to the crew of that Apache. Let them know that it is all in a day for us, and them, here.

I hope that today will be different. I love you guys, all else goes without saying, and I can't wait.

Love, William

STORIES OF WAR

PAGE 24

Excerpt from a letter written home Feb.16, 1945 “The guys in my platoon are really quite a bunch; tough as all get out.

“They’ve been fighting almost all the time since last June but they still haven’t lost their sense of humor.

“Tonight one of them said, ‘Lt., we certainly are enjoying all the inconveniences of modern life, aren’t we?’”

-- Lt. Joseph Harold Shafnacker

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

Vietnam veterans discuss war experiences, current service The Transcript Dale Graham is a veteran who lives to serve other veterans. Graham, who runs Veterans Corner in Goldsby, speaks with four of his Vietnam veteran buddies, many of whom are involved at the corner as well.

Provided photo Lt. Joseph Harold Shafnacker 35th Division served on the Western Front in Europe during World War II.

@

.com

See the five share about the experience during the war and what they are doing now to continue serving their country at www.normantranscript. com/courage.

Son proud of his family’s legacy the day they raised the flag.

He seldom spoke of his military experience but he My grandparents had would get emotional at any four sons and each one reference to that heroic served in a different branch day. of the military during Thanks be to God, all the World War II: Army, Navy, brothers came home alive Air Force and Marines. and well.

My dad was the Marine.

My dad died in 1980 at He was among the first the age of 69. group of Marines to land I still miss him and am on Iwo Jima. He was there proud to have been his son.

By Richard Garman

Norman

Thank You

Soldier shipped to England

By Nadine Richmond, wife Noble

To all our family members currently serving and those who have served our country.

Jason Carp Bill Lauback Kyle Lauback Jim Rickards Darryl Powel Michael Light Joe Lee Houck John D. Brockmeyer TJ Thorpe Joseph A Borecky Ray McKay

Gerald Cearley Joe Samaripa Donald McKay Robert Evans Robin Castle Robert Castle Marion S. Smith Sean Ross Smith Ross L. Smith II Jim McKinney

Jake Smith Nicholas Mills Cole Vollenweider Benjamin Roth Jake Smith Ken Henslee Danny Jones Sara Jones Scott Shurtz Eric Gourley Robert Hunt

Fred H. Richmond served in the U.S. Army during World War II. He was in the medical corps and worked in a hospital in England during his service in Europe.

Combat served in 3 branches on 2 war fronts

By Donald Vowell, Army Noble

My name is Donald Vowell, I was born and raised in Norman, Okla.

I’m a 100% disabled veteran, all combatrelated. I retired with 22 years of service; three years in the Army, three years in the Marine Corps and 16 years in the Air Force.

I was in the Oklahoma 45th Infantry Division, which was called to active duty when the Korean War started, and I went to Korea.

In 1952, I joined the Marine Corps and went back to Korea.

In 1956, I joined the Air Force and started flying as a crew member. In Vietnam, I was in Da Nang. Over the years, I flew in and out of Vietnam, spanning the world except for the South Pole, Russia, China, Antarctica and New Zealand.

From 1968 to 1972, I was an Air Force recruiter at the University of Oklahoma.

Did you know Norman had a Navy base? Yes, it was Norman Naval Air Station Few remember that Norman once was home to a Navy base, but it was. There were two bases, actually, North Base at what is now Westheimer Airport and South Base near the area around Lloyd Noble Center.

In 1946, North Base was hit by a tornado. Ralph Cox provided photos for a slide show at www.normantransript.com/courage.

@

.com

STORIES OF WAR

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

PAGE 25

Soldier inspired by another Lawrence

By Lawrence Fisher, U.S. Army Reserve Norman

Provided Photo

Capt. Bobby “Dusty” Burnett geared up for recon mission.

Routine recon mission turns into strike against Viet Cong 1700 hours, 16 Sept. 1967 While on a routine observation mission in Quan Duc Province, Republic of South Vietnam, Capt. Bobby “Dusty” Burnett located a group of Viet Cong in a crop field.

Capt. Burnett’s aircraft was equipped with several rockets and an M-16 machine gun which he used to keep the enemy occupied until he could contact U.S. Air Force F-100 jet fighter bombers to initiate an air strike on the area.

While remaining nearby and directing the air strike, Capt. Burnett received heavy ground fire and was in constant danger. His aircraft was struck several

times with small arms fire.

Upon completion of the air strike, Capt.

Burnett made several low passes over the bombed area to make a battle damage assessment. It was determined there were about 13 enemy killed and two escape tunnels and three structures containing explosives were destroyed.

Capt. Burnett received the Distinguished Flying Cross for his actions in preventing the enemy from escaping while putting himself in grave danger.

Capt. Burnett was later promoted to major and retired with 21 years of honorable service to his country.

-- Anonymous submission

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Aug. 24, 1940, he signed my baby book “Lawrence Cleveland” although he went by “Bill” from the William Lawrence Cleveland he was.

My new name was “Lawrence” Dean Fisher; that’s why he signed the book Lawrence I suppose.

We shared the Lawrence.

Bill Cleveland rented a bedroom from my folks from 1938 to 1942 even though the house was crowded with four sons and a new baby boy. He slept days and worked nights at the cotton mill in Sand Springs, Okla., where Dad worked.

That way, the older four sons were gone to school while he slept and the house was relatively quiet, except for me, the baby.

Weekends he went to Texas to see his wife, Velma. Jobs were hard to come by in those days and people often made sacrifices to keep one.

After Dec. 7, 1941, Bill was drafted into the Navy and went to war. I’ve been told he was a gunner’s assistant on a ship’s anti-aircraft gun. Sometime early in the war William “Bill” Lawrence Cleveland lost a duel with a Japanese Zero and was buried at sea. He left a widow, who lived afterward in Fort Worth, Texas. It seems I was as close as he came to having a child.

I must have spent a little time with him; surely I pestered him a bit. I just don’t remember. I was only 18 months old when he shipped out.

You can look him up in the listing of Navy casualties from World War II, William Lawrence Cleveland, seaman 2nd class.

I see his name, Lawrence Cleveland, in my baby book and think of him paying the ultimate price so babies named Lawrence could grow up to be free Americans.

I’ll not forget.

STORIES OF WAR

PAGE 26

Dad survived Bataan Death March

By Gordon Welcher, son as told to Aaron Wright Gray, The Transcript

Gordon Welcher spoke of his dad with an admiration and sympathy as he related his father, Col. Alexander B. Welcher’s, story of surviving the Bataan Death March in 1942.

Welcher said his father received his commission into the U.S. Army in 1940, the same year he graduated with his petroleum engineering degree from the University of Oklahoma.

He was sent to officer

school, then went to the Philippines, where he was captured by the Japanese.

“He spent four and a half years in a prison camp in which he came back weighing about 115 pounds,” Welcher said, noting that he weighed about 200 pounds when he left.

Welcher said his father attributed his survival to his previous athletic experience, including wrestling at OU. “He told me one time the reason he survived the march was because his body was in good athletic condition from playing sports at Oklahoma,” Welcher said.

Welcher’s dad returned

home from the war in 1945 with diseases such as malaria. He spent the next 25 to 30 years as a career military man, he said. After retiring, he opened a gun store in Tacoma, Wash.

Welcher said it took his dad several years to open up about the stories.

“The horror stories that he gave were just ... it’s nothing of what we see today,” Welcher said, interrupting himself.

“Nobody could come back the same.”

To hear more of Welcher’s story, visit www.normantranscript. com/courage.

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THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

Jobless teen opts for Army duty in Korea

By Sidney Bliss, U.S. Army Norman

I graduated from Marion, Ind., high school at 17 from a class of “mid termers;” I would not receive my diploma until the June 1950 class graduated.

As the Selective Service Act was in full gear, it was nearly impossible to find a good job. The story was: “Come see us when you complete your Service.” The only job I was able to obtain was pumping gas at a filling station. I decided to enlist in the Army and get my service out of the way.

I enlisted 28 April 1950, and was sent to Fort Custer, Mich., for six weeks, then to Fort Bragg, N.C., for an additional six weeks of instruction.

The Korean War had started, and I was Stoneman, Calif.-bound for four weeks before I was sent to Schofield Barracks, Hawaii. We trained with the 30th Infantry Battalion for a short time at Hawaiian Infantry Training Center before leaving Pearl Harbor aboard the USS General Pickaway.

We sailed to Sasabo, Japan, for approximately three weeks duration. (We were issued combat gear). We departed Japan

on a LST (landing ship tank) that was surplus from WWII. It had been sold to Japanese fishermen so we found ourselves crowded on this very smelly LST on our way to Pusan, South Korea.

Landed at Pusan in October 1950 and I was assigned to the 3rd Infantry Division.

We were on the east coast of Korea and were involved in the break out from the Pusan perimeter.

The 3rd Division was at Wonson and Hangnam, North Korea, when the Marines made their break out from the Chosin Reservoir. This was winter but we did not have winter gear. General MacArthur told us we would be home for Christmas.

The 3rd Division was sent to the west side of Korea where I was wounded at Chorwon.

After 18 months in Korea, I returned home for Christmas 1952. I completed my enlistment at Fort Bliss, Texas, and in March 1954, I returned home to Marion, Ind. In 2000, I returned to Korea for the 50th reunion of the 3rd Division in Seoul. Our trip was sponsored by the South Korean government in recognition of our service and sacrifice.

Pact with friends ends in Navy enlistment After taking an aptitude test, Long was recommended as a mechanic and sent to a Naval Technical Training Center in Nell Long had made a pact with several Memphis, Tenn. She was later transferred girlfriends that they would enlist in the to Norman.

Navy. As she kept persisting that it was When she was later sent to Memphis, time, though, her friends kept stalling. she met her husband, Russell Long.

“I got a little put out with them,” Long Nell Long served as a Women Accepted said. for Volunteer Emergency Service So she went one morning in 1943 (WAVES) from 1943-1945. She achieved before an afternoon shift at work and the rank of machinist mate 3rd class. enlisted.

See the “Much to everyone’s surprise, including Longs’ .com mine, they accepted me,” she said. story at

By Nell Long, U.S. Navy

as told to Aaron Wright Gray, The Transcript

@

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

STORIES OF WAR

PAGE 27

Letter outlines paratrooper’s fate after drop goes wrong Vittel, France, June 24, 1945

Landing in Fluron, accounts for his death.

He was buried March 30, 1945. As his Dear Bobbie, body could not be found. Buried in U.S. First of all please forgive me for not Military Cemetery in Margrarten, Holanswering your letter any sooner than land, Grave No. 266, Row 11, Section Y. now.

Marker is a wooden cross. In his pockets As I just returned from a 14 day were six souvenir coins, one cigarette furlough in southern France. That is the lighter and parachute wings. He didn’t reward we get for risking our necks like have any pocket book. we do. Take my word Bobbie, it isn’t That is about all I can tell you about worth it. Before I go any further let me Jack’s death. In this I told you why he was explain just who I am. I am not the one killed, that is what you wanted to know.

Jack called T/5. His name was Lansing I can’t express my feelings as to how I Laurent. He was transferred to another feel about it. As Jack and I had been division. buddies for better than two years, we left The boy named Robert Little was Texas together and entered jump school. wounded with Jack the first time. I was We finished jump school and went to just 300 yards away when that happened. you think. I told the men to take cover Camp Wackall from there to maneuvers in They were crossing a field to check a and Jack and I laid there to see if any more Tennessee, from maneuvers to Camp woods. As it was reported someone was were coming our way. A few minutes later Forrest, from Forrest to England, from there. As you know it happened in the one landed directly in front of us. If Jack England we went into battle together. winter time. They were walking side by hadn’t stopped me it would have sure We were together until the time of his side when Robert Little tripped a string on gotten some of us. death. In all these places we ate together a land mine. Robert Little was hurt a lot That is just one case of the many patrols more than Jack. He is still in the hospital Jack and I worked together. That all leads today and will probably never have the use up to the very unfortunate day of March of his left arm again. He was also hit in 24, 1945. About that jump there isn’t the back and had his face burned pretty much that I can tell you. Jack jumped as badly. Jack got shrapnel in his back and forward observer with the 513th. It takes leg. I often wish he had been hit worse so a smart man to work as forward observer. as to keep him in the hospital long enough That is the reason he was assigned to the to miss the jump we made, and things job. And you should be, as I know you wouldn’t be as they are today. As you are, very proud of him. know Jack got out of the hospital about a There is one thing I do know, Jack and week before we made the big jump across his group were dropped in the wrong spot. the Rhine.

That is the main reason he was killed.

Jack and I have been on plenty of Also, our Generals didn’t expect us to patrols together and I might say we were have as much trouble as we did. There pretty lucky to get through a lot of them. were more guns and Germans than they On one patrol Jack probably saved my life expected. I was very very lucky to make and some of the men. It happened one the jump safely myself. God was praying night in Belgium. I was given a patrol to for me on that jump. I might say Bobbie, I check for two German tanks in a woods. never want to go through another airThere was Jack, myself and five other borne operations. The extra $50 we get men. We started on the patrol that night isn’t enough compared to chances we about 9:30. We were moving along pretty take. good when an artillery shell landed pretty You probably know everything that I close. That was nothing unusual as we am going to tell you now, Jack was killed were in the habit of having them landing near Wesel , in the vicinity of Fluron, around us. Jack walked up and said Germany, on March 24, 1945. He was Mack, that last shell was a lot closer than supposed to have jumped in Wesel.

We would like to share this letter with you on the death of our uncle Private 1st Class Jack M. Minor, March 24, 1945. Jack was a paratrooper in the 17th airborne division, U.S. Army.

Our parents were Dormie and Zora Mills of the Dibble and Blanchard area all their lives.

This letter was written to our Aunt Bobbie Minor, Jack’s sister, from one of his army buddie. It was received three months after he was killed in action.

The letter is submitted exactly as it was written.

Submitted by Juanita (Mills) Diehm and Wilma (Mills) Graham, nieces

and we always slept next to one another.

Anything he had was mine and anything I had was his. And now Bobbie, I expect I had better sign off for tonight. And may I say if there is ever any way or thing I can do just drop me a few lines. As I am more than willing to do it. If you find time drop me a few lines. I will be more than willing to answer them. Express my feeling to Mr. & Mrs. Minor. Tell her she has a son she can always be proud of. Even though he gave his life so the rest of us might go home.

Sincerely CPL Kenneth McAtee Note: Jack was a native of Grady County Oklahoma and his body was later found and his burial took place in the Mountain View Cemetery, Oakland, Calif., April 13, 1949. He was awarded the Purple Heart for wounds received Jan. 18, 1945.

STORIES OF WAR

PAGE 28

Full stories available on @

SPEED READ Capt. Russell L. Long, retired The war was over in Korea. At least the fighting had stopped, or most of it. The armistice had been agreed to, and I no longer lived in a bunker. I had flown 50 missions with the Devil Cats when the colonel asked for a volunteer and pointed to me.

Online: Full story, photos and video interview

Roy Hartman, Marine Corps Iwo Jima is a volcanic island in the pacific.

The Air Force was losing a lot of planes returning from bombing runs over Japan and needed a safe haven for crippled bombers to land rather than ditch at sea. That’s where the 4th and 5th Marine divisions came in. They were called upon to take Iwo Jima and secure the island. I was a machine gun gunner with the 5th Marine Division.

Online: Full story, photos

Col. Jim Hays, retired In 1945 the war was winding down but in the Pacific, on the island of Tinian, we did not know it.

Our friends were still dying and the invasion of Japan with the certain loss of thousands of Americans and Japanese loomed immediately ahead.

General Curtis Lemay had arrived at 20th Air Force headquarters of Guam, and was told the high altitude bombing the B-29s were doing was not effective. As a bombardier, I was kind of insulted.

Online: Full story

Frank Draper, Army Air Forces Frank Draper fought in World War II in the Army Air Forces even though he started out training as a fighter pilot. Instead of fighting in the war as a fighter pilot; he elected to go overseas in the Army Air Forces with his buddies who he had first joined with at the start of World War II. On one particular bombing run that I will always remember him telling about, the plane and its crew were pretty shot up.

When the smoke cleared, Draper was the only one left who could bring the crippled plane home.

Online: Full story

J.R. Melville, Army In February 1969, we were on a recon mission when we got trapped between two North Vietnam platoons. We were pinned down for three days. This jungle was hot, rainy, and muddy. … Anyone making a move got shot. Food nonexistent! Finally, we made radio connection. Choppers arrived, banged North Vietnamese platoons. More choppers arrived

.com

to disburse the eight buddies lost to that battle.

Twelve went in, four came out; eight from this “recon mission” are listed on the Vietnam Wall in Washington, D.C. Online: Full story

Farm roots built character Flyer felt need to answer his country’s call to service

By Barbara Cole, wife Norman

Eugene H. McFarland, Army Eugene H. McFarland’s unit embarked Jan. 19, 1944, and was the first to land in Normandy, after training in England; it was the first to enter Germany; it built 30 major bridges 45 feet of culverts; cleared mines from thousands of miles of road, and captured 80 prisoners, the bulletin states.

Online: Full story, newspaper clipping

Richard J. Francis, Navy Richard J. Francis served as a signalman in the U.S. Navy, serving aboard the USS New Orleans (CA-32) when Pearl Harbor was attacked. Later on in the war, the USS New Orleans took part in the Battle of Tassafaronga on Nov. 30, 1942. It was during this battle that (the way my father tells it), a “spread” of three torpedoes was fired from a Japanese destroyer. The ship was torn in two.

Online: Full story, photo

Norman Runge, Army Air Forces Lately my conscience has been bothering me for not trying to see to it that a hero be recognized for his saving my life 65 years ago. I didn’t know if Capt. Schlagel is still alive, but I would like to shake his hand and tell him what a great guy I think he is.

The reason that my conscience bothers me is that I made no effort to see if I could help get him the recognition that he deserved.

Online: Full story

Arvil E. Smallwood, Army Sept. 28, 1967, I received my draft notice to report to the draft board. I was two weeks into the 12th grade and had just turned 18. They said it didn’t matter, I had to go. So it was off to basic, then Vietnam.

Also available online Video, photos: Sgt. Tommy Hamilton talks about his grandfather, their careers and family.

Full story, photos: Bob Allred ferried troops and supplies to the beaches of Iwo Jima Full story: Col. I.D. Warden was injured and “played dead” for several days as the Germans would kick him in the side to make sure he was dead. He was taken prisoner for several months.

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

John Cole was born on a farm near Alma, Ark., on Jan. 30, 1921.

Growing up on the farm taught John to accept responsibility. He started doing his part of the farm chores at a very young age. At age 15, he had to take over the running of the farm because his father was badly injured in a tractor accident.

After graduating from high school, John went to Wichita, Kan., to help start the Boeing Aircraft Plant.

World War II had started John Cole and John’s job at the plant was necessary for the war effort.

He did not have to go to war, but he felt it was his responsibility to enlist. John was in basic training one day when he was pulled out and sent to tech school in Denver, Colo. After completing tech school, he was sent to pilot training. Given his choice, he chose to fly B-17s since that was what he had built in Wichita.

John was assigned to AFC in England, 614th Bomb Group. After five missions, he was transferred to the 615th Bomb Squad which only flew lead planes.

On his first mission, there was a big lurch in the plane. About four seconds later, as the bombs all dropped at once, the plane lurched again. John’s co-pilot pointed to the right wing. There was a hole big enough to crawl through and John realized that the big shell that exploded above his airplane had failed to explode when it hit his wing. He later realized it was better to have more than 100 small holes than to have the wing blown off.

On one mission to Germany, one bomb did not drop as it should. It was stuck. To make matters worse, there was dense fog.

He broke out of formation as he approached the channel and tried for an

hour to drop the bomb in the water and they were unable to do so. The ceiling was low and England was fogged in. He was told of one base that had fire surrounding the base that would raise the fog about 50 feet.

John decided to find the base instead of bailing the crew out and heading the plane toward Germany till the plane ran out of gas. He was able to get on the ground after dodging a B-24 which had crashed on the runway. The bomb experts tried to defuse the bomb for eight hours lying in the snow before they finally defused the bomb. For his effort in landing the plane, John was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.

John was pilot on 29 combat missions over Germany. He was loaded and ready to take off on the 30th mission when Germany surrendered.

John’s next assignment was flying soldiers off the islands in the Pacific.

John came to Norman to teach ROTC at the University of Oklahoma.

John later served in the Korean War, but he was assigned to France, protecting the border between Germany and Russia.

His last assignment was the Vietnam War. John didn’t have to go to Vietnam, but again he felt it was his duty to go.

At one point, he went to see his brother-in-law who was stationed there.

As they were driving, they saw what looked like a young boy and an old woman begging for food. As John and his brother-in-law stopped to share some food, the boy dropped down and the “woman” pulled a gun and started firing.

John’s brother-in-law was faster, and shot them. Both men walked away from the encounter.

Lt. Col. John Cole served 33 years in the military.

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

STORIES OF WAR

PAGE 29

It’s never too late to heal some wounded spirits make it home, my Mom’s praying for me.”

But there was one time he gave up that hope.

At the age of 17, Gilliam Archer The Japanese got them pinned down for volunteered in the Navy. He 48 hours. The explosion of the was sent from Shawnee, Okla., depth charges got so close the to California for boot camp. He paint came off the ceiling. They had always worked hard on the could not move around or talk. farm near Asher, so boot camp But they were not the things was a snap for him. he would tell about this. What From California he was sent he always told was one young to Hawaii. There he volunteered guy was so scared he was for submarine duty and was sitting on the floor hugging his assigned to the USS Seal. He knees and he was shaking so was so proud of the Seal and that he was bouncing. Gilliam stayed with it all during the was proud he could hold steady Gilliam Archer remainder of the war. through these things.

Their job was to go out among the For some reason, the Japanese ship Japanese-held islands and take pictures to pulled away. Some people would say his aid the other forces as they came in to Mom’s prayers were working. attack the islands. I have often thought The Seal was later assigned to go on about how hard it was for his mother, as shooting runs. And was successful in they would be out sometimes two months. sinking many of their ships.

War is hard on families as well as the When the war was over, he came back servicemen. and started back to high school at Asher. I Gilliam very seldom mentioned the war. was a senior, and that’s where I met him. I And when he did, it was something funny. was a little country girl and thought such a One time he asked the captain if he handsome Navy guy would never look at could look through the periscope, he said me, but he did. We were married at the just a minute then said, “Here.” end of the school year, April 5, 1947.

Gilliam said he was looking right down Years later I asked him why he chose the barrel of a gun so huge he couldn’t me; he could have had any girl in Asher. have reached around it. But he wasn’t He said, “You were the kind of girl I wanted going to let the captain get one on him, so to be the mother of my children.” he walked away so nonchalantly and said, We have five precious children.

“That’s all I want to see now.”

In 1990 when we moved to Noble, a He always told his buddies, “I know I’ll young Japanese man came to church

By Reba Archer, wife

Noble

where we attended the Assembly of God. He was a student at OU. When we left church, I’d never seen my husband look so sad. I asked him what was wrong, and he said with such deep sadness in his voice, “I could have killed his grandpa.”

That aggravated me, and I said, “Why, Honey, they attacked us, unprovoked, and look at all the suffering they caused in just that. The Oklahoma is still in that watery grave.”

But, nothing would help him. He said when we’d sink a ship, then “we’d cheer like we’d won the Super Bowl.”

I said, “well, they were shooting at you.”

But, it didn’t cheer him up any.

So the thought came to me that maybe if he got acquainted with the young man, it would help. So I asked him to come home with us for lunch. And through that friendship the sadness left my husband.

They neither one ever mentioned the war.

He has always been so proud of the Seal.

In 1990, I sent to Washington, D.C., and asked for a picture of the Seal. They sent it to us, also the medal Gilliam never picked up. I framed the picture, and it hangs in our bedroom.

He only mentions the good things, and he so often does. He said, “I’ve stood on that tower for many hours. If a warning whistle blew, we had only seconds to get down the hatch, so no climbing down, I jumped.”

He’ll say the ocean is beautiful and “sometimes it’s so calm it looks like glass, and other times the waves are 30 feet high.”

He saw a whale some distance away and he said that whale had a big knot on it.

Some of the experienced boys got a good laugh. They said that “knot” was a baby whale. He said it was huge.

He was discharged at Norman Navy base in 1945.

STORIES OF WAR

PAGE 30

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

Farm boy comes home from war to start oil business

By LaVene Pitts Nunnally, sister Norman

Toy M. Pitts was my parents’, Wm. Martin and Dura Underwood Pitts, first son and fifth in birth order.

My first memories of him were on our farm in Depew, Okla.

One day Toy was coming in for a noon meal after cultivating a Toy Pitts field with our mules, Dude and Diner — cultivating with the mules was his choice over the tractor.

I ran out the gate to meet him! He said, “Beanie (my nickname) hop up on old Diner and I will give you a ride.”

He lifted me up! I felt like I was up in the air as high as a kite! I was scared! He lifted me off!

My little heart was broken when I

overheard my parents’ conversation that he was leaving our farm to serve in the U.S. military.

On 17 May 1944, Toy enlisted in the U.S. Navy. While sitting close to my Dad on our couch listening to the news on the radio powered by a battery that was charged by a windcharger, I could sense the stress the news was bringing to our family.

During our daily family devotions we prayed for the safe keeping of Toy and the men and women in our military.

One day I ran to our mailbox at Depew, and to my surprise in the mailbox was a letter with an APO return address from Toy — I was so happy!

I ran to give the letter to my dad. He quickly opened the letter and later explained what APO meant. Without any encouragement from my parents I decided to send him a penny postcard, wherever he was — the distance was

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more than this 8-year-old girl could imagine.

Jan. 17, 1946, Toy returned home safely. What joy there was in the Pitts’ family! After the celebration of his homecoming and most of the company had left, he got busy getting his belongings in order which was one stuffed sea bag.

My eyes were wide open as he dumped that bag, thinking by chance he may have brought me a gift. To my surprise, all the penny postcards I had regularly mailed him came falling out. I couldn’t imagine how those penny postcards went all the way around the world. How did our mailman ever find the USS Barnstable?

A few days later, Toy said, “Dad, I am home and I am broke!” Dad said, “Well, son, what are you going to do?”

My brother said, “I wish I had the money to start my own oil business —

some day buy my own drilling rig.”

Dad reached in the bib of his overalls and pulled out a stack of one-hundreddollar bills that had accumulated from saving all the allotment checks that had arrived in our mailbox.

Toy could not believe his eyes!

Dad started handing the bills one-byone to my brother. This money was the start of Toy’s oil-field career — and later he developed and owned Cherokee Drilling Co. in Bristow, Okla.

On Jan. 17, 1995, Toy was buried in Bristow, with military honors.

Toy’s fleet tours included the USS Barnstable, an attack transport ship, embarking/disembarking troops and transporting cargo.

During his military career he was awarded the American Campaign Medal, Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal, the Philippine Liberation Ribbon, the Victory Medal and other recognitions.

His service helped men walk again

By James E. Johnson As told to family members

James E. Johnson began serving in the Army Air Corps on July 15, 1941, at the age of 24. After 11 weeks of basic training in Camp Grant at Rockford, Ill., he was first assigned to Jefferson Barracks, Mo., where he was assigned to receive further training to serve as a medic.

He was sent to Florida to set up ahospital to treat the wounded troops transported from Germany. James was in charge of the orthopedic ward. He prepared patients suffering from any type of fracture and was always present in the operating room.

James achieved the rank of staff sergeant and was honorably discharged in 1946. He lives in Norman with his wife, Alvena, and will be celebrating his 94th birthday.

STORIES OF WAR

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

PAGE 31

Family sends several to war She was ‘one of the best’ at the plant

By Marc A. Bonge, son Norman

Growing up in Oklahoma, it seemed as if everyone I knew had been involved in military efforts during World War II. My father-in-law from Tulsa, Army Master Sgt. John I. Blair, studied hospital administration. On the English hospital ship Queen Elizabeth, he devised a plan of efficiency for loading and unloading the wounded which we now call triage.

He divided the ship into four main theaters with the severity of soldiers’ sickness/injury designated by thousands of numbered, color-coded cards. His plan reduced the loading time in half. At the time, he had not yet graduated from high school.

My entire immediate family of heroes from Nebraska served in World War II. There was a period of time during the war when my mother, father and grandfather all simultaneously were at the same Norfolk Naval base near Virginia Beach, Va. My mother, Ruth Bonge, a civilian, was

Training put to use

By Cloyce Reedy, U.S. Army Norman

I kept wondering if I would reach my 18th birthday.

It was a beautiful

employed by the Defense Department while my father, Russell Bonge, patrolled the eastern coast on Navy mine sweeper convoys. However, on most evenings after his daily work, Russell routinely returned to their apartment near the base.

My grandfather, Sam Clare, was a Naval Reserve Seabee whose claim to fame was helping build the airport runways on Tinian Island in the Pacific from which the bomber, Enola Gay, made its fateful mission dropping the atomic bombs that ended the war.

Two of my uncles fought in the in Army infantry in Europe. Drafted in 1944, one uncle experienced some of the fiercest fighting of the war. Private 1st Class Jerry Hansen landed on Omaha beach on D-Day and fought the Nazi Army in the battle for France. He ended combat in Belgium at the Battle of the Bulge.

My other uncle, Jerry Falter, was imprisoned as a German POW. All members of my family returned to their homes in Nebraska. They lived long and successful lives. I am extremely grateful for their service to our country and their being memorable role models.

evening in June 1943 on one of Saipan's color-coded South Pacific island beaches.

This was my first opportunity to put into action the training I had in amphibious operations in San Diego.

The rest of the story: For Cloyce Reedy’s entire story, see www.normantranscript.com/courage

@

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By Mae Stout as told to Aaron Wright Gray

Mae Stout of Norman was a true “Rosie the Riveter” during World War II. Stout worked at Douglas Aircraft Plant, which later became Tinker Air Force Base in Midwest City, for two to three years building dashboards for planes. Her primary tool: riveting guns.

In her mid-20s, Stout lived in Midwest City with her sister, whose husband was overseas. Stout had a daughter and her sister had a child as well. While Stout worked at the plant, her sister stayed at home with the children.

She said her advisers

Provided photo

Ernest and Mae Stout after the war. were impressed with her skill.

“One of the best, they told me,” she said.

Stout met her future husband, a Navy man, during the war as well and they were later married.

PAGE 32

STORIES OF WAR

Soldier’s family, and buddy, fallow a path to healing, peace

By Walter Gage Norman

I think Daniel was one of the Oklahoma City guys I liked from the start. A harder worker I’ve never seen. He didn’t say much but communicated well.

Danny was a good soldier and friend. We trained at Fort Riley, Kansas.

I had put Danny and all of Vietnam behind me, but when it started coming back I just needed to find his family and let them know somehow about his bravery the night everyone was gone from where I was.

Danny showed up and helped me out of a deadly tight spot. We became separated shortly after that night.

Several months later on the 10th of December 1967, Danny’s outfit was attacked at 4 a.m. Simultaneously, our outfit was under attack at Rack Kien. We were about five miles apart.

Danny and 11 other soldiers lost their lives that night near An Nug Tan. I felt his family probably didn’t know specifics about his actions that night as a form letter is usually sent out by the military.

I had already gone through the old newspaper microfilm at an Oklahoma City area library and found no obituary. We then found Danny buried at Evergreen Cemetery in Tucson, Ariz., through graves registration.

We drove to Tucson within days and under a lone tall palm tree flowered the brass plaque, Danny’s marker. I unloaded a lot that day and was totally embarrassed. My wife understood, helped me through it all, and then drove us to the library in Tucson. There I finally found the obituary that I had been hunting. It showed names of family survivors and the town Danny grew up in, Byars, Okla.

As I read this, Danny’s words quickly came back to me about his hometown just 5 miles away from where I had grown up. I had this information buried in my head the whole time.

His parents had moved to Tucson while we were gone. I had no idea how his family would feel about being contacted or what

Provided photo / 1967

Walter T. “Gator” Gage of Norman embarked on a journey to help the family of Daniel Gardner find peace and found his own along the way. was motivating me for that matter. After all, it was nearly 30 years late.

In the town of Byars, we talked to several gentlemen and one fellow remembered the family. We located his sister, Ginger, several days later. She was still in Tucson. Another sister, Joy, lives in Ada, Okla., and his little brother, then 38 years old, was living in a shed behind her farm house. This guy had all of Danny’s medals on the wall, and all his old pictures there, and was in deep depression just living with all this.

We were invited to Tucson, where Ginger was awaiting our arrival outside their apartment. She actually pulled me out of the car to hug me. She seemed starved to talk to someone, anyone, about Danny. When I asked the family for permission to run an obituary even his brother Russell got excited.

I ran it in two hometown newspapers. Russell called saying he had ought every copy at a diner in Ada. I was the only one to contact these folks, and I think it helped them as well as myself.

Russell doesn’t live in the shed anymore and Ginger doesn’t e-mail us all the time now.

We answered for more than a year.

I can at last mention his name without feeling the fear of those nights and that whole year.

I have a good feeling about Danny not being forgotten now as I have met family members with names: Danielle, Danny, Daniel and Daniel Eli.

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

STORIES OF WAR

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

PAGE 33

Ship sinks in 10 minutes after torpedo hits aviation fuel

By Wilford H. Jones, U.S. Navy

The Lipscomb Bay sank 10 minutes after it was hit by the torpedo.

Miraculously, Wilford H. Jones was one of the survivors with minor injuries and was awarded the Purple Heart.This is a personal account written by Wilford H. Jones, submitted by his widow, regarding his experience in Novemeber 1943 at age 23, describing the sinking of his ship, the USS Liscomb Bay, by the Japanese during World War II.

Norman

I was on the USS Liscomb Bay, a small aircraft carrier which was furnishing the air support for the Army troops invading and securing the airstrips on Makin Island in the South Pacific. We had been circling the island three or four days when we were hit by a Japanese torpedo. It was about 1.5 hours before daylight and we were all at our battle stations since dawn is what we called “submarine time” as they raise their periscopes without being seen and could see any large ship against the horizon.

Apparently the torpedo hit our aviation gasoline storage area because there was an immediate large explosion after it hit and the whole ship seemed to be on fire. I was about two decks down as my battle station was in the electric shop. I grabbed what I thought was my “Mae West” life jacket but it turned out to be a laundry bag. All lights went out except for the battle lanterns. I started topside, but found that the passage outside the electric shop had fire at both ends. I knew the way past the fire so I ran through the fire to the ladder leading up. There were several others needing to get out also.

Once I got topside it was obvious that the ship was afire from stem to stern.

There was never any order given to abandon ship but we were starting to list heavily to starboard. I looked for a life jacket but finding none, I went down a

rope that had been hanging from the gunwale to the life rafts, which were all blown away.

There were continuous explosions as our own ammo was exploding. When I got to the water, there was another sailor hanging onto a similar line near me, who was yelling for someone to throw him a life jacket, and that he couldn’t swim.

The ship was listing very badly to starboard nearly on its side. I started swimming away from the ship as fast as possible so I wouldn’t be sucked under it when it sank. I swam away until I was exhausted, and when I looked back, the ship was gone. It was still dark so I kept treading water but each swell would completely cover me. I would swim up for air, and about that time I’d be covered again by another wave.

I found that I could swim on my back and stay horizontal then I’d ride up and down with the swells, without being

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inundated with each swell. My only problem then, was keeping my feet up because I still had my shoes on. I remember trying to remove them, but I was too short of breath to bend down and get them off. All I could do was just leave them on. My hand felt something floating, so I hung on to it, to help keep me up, but I soon realized that I was holding it up ,

instead of helping me. I think it was a packaged parachute that was watersoaked.

It was very dark, and I was so exhausted, I wondered how long I could continue to swim in the heavy, oily, constantly swelling ocean waves. A few times, I thought I would have to give up. I didn’t think I could keep on.

But then the thought of my mother and her broken heart would give me the strength to keep trying a little longer.

Finally, after more than an hour of constantly swimming, it began to get daylight, and I was able to catch some floating debris to hang on to. Then in a very short time after I could see, I heard someone say “Here, Mac, grab this.” It was a motor a whaleboat from a U.S. destroyer, picking us up.

Of the total 862 men aboard, including 55 officers, only 217 men were saved. The culprit Japanese submarine escaped.

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PAGE 34

Independence Day A poem by John Fears, Norman Note: Dedicated to 2nd Lt. Jack Milton Smith, Bravo Company, 1st. Bn., 7th Cavalry, 1st Cavalry Division, Bartlesville, Okla., killed in action, Quang Tin Province, Republic of South Vietnam, Nov. 12, 1967; to Gold Star Mothers everywhere, and to my wife, Judy who, at 23 lovingly cared for our then year-old son during my tour in Vietnam.

Independence Day is a day of freedom for you and me A day of picnics, fireworks, and grandma’s sweet ice tea Children playing in the park or on an old porch swing; Memories of my youth before I became a Marine, And that’s the way America should always be If only freedom were always free.

We were so very young when we went away to war, a life time ago.

As boys, we sang “America, the Beautiful,” and it’s a beautiful song, But, I didn’t fully understand the words we sang, not before Vietnam, And “re-education camps” and civilian boatlifts fleeing the Viet Cong.

There is a woman I once knew, her hair turned gray with the passage of time I saw her last as she tended her garden on a day, so tranquil and sublime As I retraced my childhood driving through a neighborhood, lost in time; She was a Gold Star Mother from my youth in the autumn of her days Longing to hold her son who long ago went away.

Once she was young, blessed with beauty and grace, And her little boy brought her joy with his sweet embrace; Oh, how she smiled as we tired of climbing trees and playing hide and seek,

STORIES OF WAR And built a “ship” in Jimmy’s garage – proudly christened the Robert E. Leak.

Sailing the Seven Seas, with snacks from our mothers, at least once a week Buried treasure and adventure, our intrepid crew did seek.

But, little boys must all too soon grow into men And venture into a world where they can no longer pretend; A world where freedom is fragile, and scarred by genocide and sin Where my friend Jack sacrificed all his tomorrows to protect his men.

And when some burned The Flag, and others ran away to play, I saw true courage and the loyalty of Marines under fire in a land far away Men who didn’t run away when they heard wounded buddies call Men who made a stand when their backs were against the wall.

I remember a day much more solemn As the sounds of battle engulfed the column: “The treeline!” “They’re in the treeline!”

A Marine yelled, his face forever young, his words etched in time As two RPG’s exploded, shattering limbs, numbing my mind.

“Corpsman Up!” Echoed another plaintive cry, As mortar shells began to fall from a Monsoon sky Falling on the village of Thanh My on the banks of the Song Ba Ren For refusing to feed the Viet Cong, it was Communist revenge.

It was as if an apparition appeared through the smoke and fire, As a Navy Corpsman from another platoon arose from the Asian mire Running in tattered jungle boots, his feet swollen and sore…

Running…then crawling in the mud…as heartbeats skipped… and time and breathing stopped.

But as time inched forward, hearts punching

through chests 20 year old ‘Doc’ inserted a ‘trache’ like a surgeon at his best, And in the beat of a heart, he gave a Marine the breath of life “You’re flying back to The World”, Doc said, “back to your wife.”

Not far away, a young Marine lieutenant with 40 year old eyes Tried to set up a perimeter under darkening skies When he saw a little boy all covered in blood, lying just off the trail “Doc! Come quick! It’s His legs!” The boy’s face, so very pale.

Doc clamped a tiny artery in a tiny leg beyond repair and said, “Lieutenant, call in a medivac! There’s no time to spare!”

And as a young mother began wailing and trembling in despair, Doc and the lieutenant listened to two year old cries piercing the air Cries that turned into soft whimpers floating up into the sky Until Doc lowered his head, and gave one final sigh.

Doc moved back to his wounded platoon, one Marine, then another As giant blades slapped the air above, and a medivac began to hover Doc pulled at the straps of their packs, pulling them to cover No time to wait, no time for sorrows Trying to save their lives, trying to save their tomorrows Most days you make it home free Like the day when a Cobra took out an ambush on Hwy. 1, we just couldn’t see Or the day the sniper missed my radioman and me And the night on L.Z. Ross, when we were tired and soaked, but privileged to see A Canadian Corporal, with tears of pride, read that he was an American like me.

But other days freedom just isn’t free No matter how much we wish it to be.

I remember Bob Hope with Connie Stevens as she tearfully sang Silent Night

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT And I thought of my wife and son and Christmas dinner with soft candlelight But the very next day my fellow lieutenant lost his hand and most of his sight.

I remember green tracers arching skyward, and finding their mark As a Huey Slick shuddered with its tail breaking apart.

Falling, and the pilot fighting the controls all the way down, Falling and exploding down on the ground; Cries for help that never fade, though time has pulled us apart Cries of agony that never fade, twisting and breaking your heart.

But through the acrid smoke and fire Several Marines, God bless them, arose from the Asian mire, Each second was an eternity, but there was no turning back No time to wait, no time for sorrows They were trying to save lives, trying to save tomorrows.

As heartbeats skipped…and time and breathing stopped.

Although others living safely in freedom are free to disagree, It was Jesus who said, “There Is No greater love than this, than a man Lay down his life for his friends.”

When we were boys, we sang “My Country ‘Tis of Thee and America … America … God shed his grace on thee …”, But I didn’t truly understand the words we sang until after Vietnam.

So I pray you’ll pause and remember my brothers as you read this verse: ‘O beautiful for heroes proved In liberating strife.

Who more than self their country loved And mercy more than life!’

Semper Fidelis!

We Support Our Military!

God Bless THEm!

STORIES OF WAR

PAGE 36

Corpsman risks life to fetch medical supplies

By Bill Mingle, cousin-in-law Norman

Clifford A. Ross, who was born in rural southeastern Kansas, was drafted into the Navy at the age of 33.

He became a hospital apprentice and served in Company A, 735th Medical Battalion, 3rd Marine Division.

He participated in the landings on Guam (July 1944) and Iwo Jima (February 1945) serving as a corpsman to the Marines.

Following the battle for Guam, he received a Bronze Star. The citation reads (in part): “Hospital Apprentice 1/c Clifford A. Ross, USNR, is awarded the Bronze Star Medal for heroic achievement in action against the enemy during the six hour battle on Sugar Loaf Ridge, Guam, 27 July 1944. HA 1/c Ross showed outstanding courage and bravery by leaving his shelter and returning to the rear medical dump for badly needed supplies while under heavy machine gun

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and mortar fire.

“With complete disregard for his own safety, HA 1/c Ross proceeded for a distance of about one mile under fire to bring up stretchers and supplies. He then voluntarily carried the supplies to the scene of the action and helped treat and evacuate the wounded.

His courage, initiative and disregard for his own safety were in the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service.”

Mr. Ross believed that he saved the lives of 20 Marines who were wounded in the battle that day. He survived the fighting on Guam and Iwo Jima without being injured himself. He estimated that he slept in more than 30 foxholes during the progress of those two legendary campaigns. He was discharged from service in the fall of 1945 at Norman Naval Air Station.

Mr. Ross was married to my mother's cousin. Both are now deceased.

I am proud to be able to submit this to give honor and respect for his heroic service in WWII.

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THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

Norman veteran receives rosary from Pope Pius XII

By Warren G. Myers, Army Norman

I was a member of Hal Muldrow’s battalion and we were bivouacked outside of Rome having just fought the Battle of Anzio. We were “resting” and getting ready to make another beach landing on southern France.

My friend, who was a Catholic said, “Let’s go see the pope.”

I was shocked ’cause even then you just didn’t go see the pope.

Well we went to the Vatican and confronted the Swiss guard who looked at his watch and then told us that HE was coming through the door he was point to in exactly two minutes.

He told us,“He’ll have to talk to you if he can’t get through.”

We stopped him (and his cardinal) at the door and he talked to us and then gave me the rosary. I later found out that I was the only one to receive one.

Guess he knew I wasn’t a Catholic. Ha.

Note: According to a 1944 Transcript article, Myers won a Bronze Star for heroic action on Nov. 9, 1943.

UNIVERSITY LIQUORS

would like to say “Thank You” to all the Veterans for their courage and service.

UNIVERSITY LIQUOR 1215 E. Lindsey • 573-1977

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

STORIES OF WAR

PAGE 37

Wives hold down fort while husbands deployed If only he’d ducked lower

By Joyce E. Carle, widow

Norman

Chief Master Sgt. Wayne R. Carle, now deceased, served 20 years in the U.S. Air Force from June 1952 to June 1972.

In November 1964, Wayne was deployed to Cam Rahn Bay, Vietnam.

Our girls were soon-to-be 2 years old and 6 years old.

We were stationed at MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa, Fl. The entire wing at the base was deployed for one year, leaving a lot of wives and children alone.

In our case, before Wayne even arrived in Vietnam, there was an acciChief Master Sgt. Wayne R. Carle dent.

safety pin wedged against her leg. The doctor said if that pin had been against a nerve, her leg would have been affected.

That worry, too, subsided as time passed.

We know how that happened. She had received a doll for Christmas and at that time the dolls came with diapers and pens.

Hurricane season

The next challenge was a hurricane. The eye of this hurricane was predicted to hit Tampawith 7 foot tides. This means our neighborhood would be flooded. Lots of wives and children had to go to shelters.

The boys in Vietnam received the news, however, they did not know that at the very last minute, the eye of the hurricane veered out to sea and Tampa was spared the That night was a nightmare. Our Broken leg, sleepless night extremely high tides. Wayne told me it was daughter was so traumatized, when she several days before they received this news Our youngest daughter joined in a would drift off to sleep, she would jump game where the older children were and the pain in her leg was so severe, she that we were all OK. running from a couple of the boys on would scream and cry. As the night their bicycles in front of our house. She progressed, she realized no one was In Cam Ranh Bay fell on the street curb and one of the boys taking the pain away, so she screamed When this wing from MacDill AFB ran over her leg just above the ankle and for her Daddy all night. was deployed to Cam Ranh Bay, Vietbroke it. It was an accident and the little The next morning, I once again loaded nam, there was nothing there but a boy was devastated. It hurt and she was our daughter in the car and went back to runway.

The boys had to build the base. screaming and crying. She would not let the base emergency room. By this time, I heard lots of stories about this us touch her leg. We couldn’t get her we were both basket cases. I told the challenge and saw lots of pictures of shoe off. doctor we had to have some relief for her outdoor toilets and showers. It was I loaded her in the car and took her to pain and my nerves. They did give us desolate. the base emergency room. I did not both something to help us sleep.

Wayne was assigned to flying status know the doctor on duty at the base. He There was no way we could get in and told many stories of their plane being was new. I became concerned when he touch with Wayne. He was somewhere shot at and barely making it back to the tried to get our daughter to stand on her en route to Cam Ranh Bay, Vietnam. The base. foot. It hurt and she cried. I felt that was communications were not there. This unnecessary. was a remote part of Vietnam. It was at An X-ray clearly showed a clean break least another week before he received Epilogue of her little ankle, however, this doctor the message to call home. told me it did not need to be set. It looked I suppose that was for the best He was one of the unlucky ones who to me like it needed to be set or would because by then everything was much was exposed to Agent Orange in Vietnam grow back crooked and I questioned this better and we were OK. Our little girl and died of lung cancer on Feb. 17, 2006. doctor. became the attention of the neighborThe girls and I are alone again, But, he was sure that a cast on her hood including the little boy that ran over however, we are comforted by the fact entire leg would be sufficient. I was so her leg. They brought her presents and that our husband and father was a brave worried when I returned home that I candy and signed her cast. The doctor soldier with many medals, including the called several of my friends about this was right. Her leg did not grow back Bronze Star. doctor. They did know him and assured crooked.

Note: Wayne Carle had two daughters, me he was a good doctor and I could However, there was another shock.

Tammy Carle LeBlanc and Teresa Carle. trust his judgment.

When her cast was removed, there was a

By Col. Douglas E. Vaughn, chaplain Norman

Dalat, Vietnam, 1969.

The alarm sounded about midnight.

We grabbed our clothes and ran for the bunker.

As we ran down the steps into the bunker, we were receiving rockets and automatic rifle fire.

A young lieutenant was running in front of me – I was a captain in 1969 – and he fell back into my arms and I helped get him into the bunker.

Some men were already in the bunker, so they were checking the lieutenant to see where he was injured. They began to laugh, which I thought was strange.

They said he will be fine, he just did not duck low enough.

Bunker entrances have railroad ties over the entrance; he just did not duck low enough.

The next day after the attack, he had a huge knot on his forehead and a few weeks later, the bruise from his head moved down into this eyes and he looked like he had been in a heck of a fight – but, he just didn’t duck low enough.

Also the next morning, we found a rocket sticking up out of our chopper pad.

It was sticking up about 10 feet out of the ground. They called the EOD and they had to blow it in place. They sand bagged all around and when they blew it, the racket shook all the windows for 50 yards.

The next week they were replacing windows.

That night 13 South Vietnamese chaplains were killed by the VC, but thankfully our compound had no injuries … except one lieutenant who did not duck low enough.

Note: Col. Douglas E. Vaughn now is retired from the U.S. Army. He served with the 73rd Signal Battalion, 1st Signal Brigade

PAGE 38

STORIES OF WAR

THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT

Bystanders pause to render honors along route Westmoore grad not alone on that final walk to rest

than her 4’11” size. She had helped raise this boy as a baby.

After the teacher of his relationship class spoke, the commanding officer of the military police spoke, finally his preacher took the podium and spoke and the service was over.

By Sandy Travis, cousin There was no open casket, no Reprinted by permission last look at a precious boy. Just the reality that he will not marry Five years ago, in March of his fiance of 5 years, he will not 2003, thousands of other men father children or grow old. He and women became involved in simply will not!

Operation Iraqi Freedom. Gary We watched the precision of Moore was just a kid of 20 years the honor guard as they acted as old when this war began. The pallbearers. We watched as the youngest of four children from a proud of his work and honored to the car and started toward the Freedom Riders formed a huge large, close-knit family, he was do the job. Last Monday (March door of the church, the many circle waiting for the casket to be the cut up. He was known to sit 16, 2009), while driving in a members of the Freedom Riders brought to the waiting hearse. It and talk one’s leg off. When he convoy on a street in Baghdad, motorcycle club could be seen. was an amazing sight to see got old enough, his dad insisted Gary Moore, just 25 years old, Oh yes, they were scruffy looking these burly, somewhat rough he “leave the nest.” Part of was hit by a particular type of with long hair, leather jackets, looking men and women form leaving the nest was getting his IED that sends a piercing metal beards, tattoos and all. Each had the cirlce holding their American own insurance from his distant through even the strongest of a large American flag on the back flags at attention. Then coffin cousin. He often came by to talk steel. It doesn’t explode, as we of his motorcycle. As we entered, came from the door of the or called to ask “what if” queswould imagine, it just finds a of course, there was the usual church, all the many military, tions. They didn’t really know target and pierces it. He was the formality of the funeral. We police offers and all the Freedom each other before but they only one seriously injured. He found the family, quickly hugged Riders came to attention and became friends. But so did most died immediately. the father who seemed to be saluted. people Gary met.

For all these many years, this going through the motions in a Soon I guided my car in to the He was a deeply religious was the first soldier to lose his daze. funeral procession. Leading the young man who took relationship life, that I had a direct connection It was if you could tell he was procession was the Freedom classes with his girlfriend at their to. He was my second cousin’s just trying to get through the Riders, which must have numchurch and was known to carry baby boy so it wasn’t as if I really ordeal. There was nothing to say, bered 20 or 30, followed by his Bible with him. The teacher knew him but I knew his family. he wouldn’t have heard it police, the hearse, the many as well as the pastor of the Today, I attended his funeral anyway. He was numb. family cars and finally the rest of church knew him well. He had service. It was the first military The flag draped coffin was at us. The procession stretched attended the church since he was funeral I have had the displeasthe front of the huge church about five miles long. just a small boy with his two ure to attend. I say displeasure surrounded by flowers of red, As we left the church parking brothers and sister. Each Sunday because I am fully aware that as white, and blue. A small photo of lot, we noticed a man leaning morning they rode the church long as my son is a U.S. soldier, it a young man grinning from ear through some shrubs over the bus to attend Sunday school. The is only by the grace of God that I to ear in Army dress atop the fence that seperated his house bus driver remembered him as a am not the mother who mourns. coffin. from the parking lot. He was little boy with a big smile who It is only God who decides that People began to arrive and fill holding up a large American flag, loved to talk. my son comes home alive and the seats. Finally at the proper as high as he could and there Finally, at 24 years old, he this boy does not. time, the family entered, my were tears in his eyes. decided to join the Army as a cousin appearing as if he had member of the military police.

10 years since I last saw Riders post honor guard aged A soldier passing by Six months later, he was him. The grandmother who deployed to Baghdad, Iraq, to I attended the service and was fiercly opposed the war in the It was obvious that many were help train the Iraqi police. He was in awe of what I saw. As I parked first place appeared even smaller impatient waiting for such a long Gary L. Moore attended the Moore Schools starting in kindergarten. He graduated from Westmore High School in May 2003.

He joined the Army in order to obtain the training for a future in law enforcement. He loved the Army, even enjoying the boot camp training. Gary was killed in Iraq on March 16, 2009.

The following is submitted by: Father, Billy L. Moore; grandparents, Billy F. and Carrie Moore; sister, Ginger Moore Bobala; and brothers, Casey Moore and Benjamin Moore.

procession to pass. A few cars cut in to the middle of the procession, either unaware of what they were doing or just in too big a hurry. Then I began to notice something else. People came out of their places of business, out of stores, out of homes, out of everywhere. They stood at attention, they made gestures of support, they stood with their hand over their heart or saluted.

It was several miles from the church to the cemetery. Once we entered the small suburb of Del City where the cemetery was located, the crowd grew even larger. They stood silent as this young soldier made his final trip.

All types of people could be seen, nurses, construction workers, old, young, well-to-do, and obviously poor. As we approached the entrance to the cemetery, the local police officers had their cars blocking traffic as well as two fire trucks. Each officer and firefighter was not just standing outside of his/her vehicle, they were standing at attention.

I’m not sure who provided the large Liberty Bell that was mounted on a trailer. I heard it peal as we entered the church but didn’t realize what it was.

Again, at the cemetery it pealed several times. Then there was the 21-gun salute and after the presentation of the flag, it was over.

The entire service took over 4 hours but it reinforced in my heart that there are still patriotic people who DO care for the fallen soldiers that help keep us free.

So please, when you get to attend your church next week without threat of intimidation, please remember to offer a prayer for the family of Lance Cpl. Gary L. Moore.

VOTE SHERROD ASSOCIATE DISTRICT JUDGE

EXPERIENCED • FAIR • INDEPENDENT With over 20 years of valuable trial experience as a judge, prosecutor and defense laywer and over 50 years of experience as a father, spouse, boss, employee, business owner, friend and neighbor, J. Michael Sherrod has the skill, wisdom and temperament to effectively and efficiently run a courtroom. Sherrod knows you are the most important person there and will treat you with the dignity and respect you deserve while following the law. Sherrod knows that “fair” means fair to all sides in a dispute and that’s what makes him the Right Person for a Tough Job.

On July 27th, vote for change. . .

VOTE J. MICHAEL SHERROD for ASSOCIATE DISTRICT JUDGE Paid for by J. Michael Sherrod for Associate District Judge Campaign Committee, Shannon Sherrod, Chairman, 904 N. Peters, Norman, OK 73069