On June 3rd, the Board of Directors renamed the Merchant Marine exhibit to the Harold E. Wellington Merchant Marine of World War II Memorial Gallery in honor of long-time museum volunteer Harold Wellington.

In the words of Alfred Lord Tennyson, Wellington “Crossed the Bar” in December of 2024.Ìę Before Wellington passed away, he accomplished one more milestone in a life filled with service to his country and his fellow veterans. Wellington became a centenarian on September 29th, 2024.

Left, Harold Wellington celebrated his 100th birthday in his room at a long-term care facility in September of ’24.Ìę Right, Wellington celebrated his 99th birthday with family and friends in a local restaurant.Ìę

During 100 years of living, Harold Wellington received the Congressional Gold Medal from the United States Congress, served in three different branches of the military during two major wars, and survived a near-fatal car crash in front of thousands of spectators during a stock car race. Wellington lived every day of his remarkable life to the fullest.

Wellington Campioned for the Cause of the VHMC

Over the past eight years, Wellington’s commitment to the success of the 51șÚÁÏÍű History Museum has not been as well-known as his military service and the accolades he received for volunteering to serve during World War II.Ìę In this article, I want to focus on Wellington’s devotion to telling the story of the Merchant Marines of WWII and his drive to preserve artifacts of the Merchant Services in our museum.

Wellington is showing off his Liberty ship model to John Taylor, owner of a local toy store.

I met Wellington when he was well into his 90s. Wellington attended the 51șÚÁÏÍű History Museum’s first exhibition display in downtown Brevard, NC. I covered the exhibition as a reporter for WLOS News 13.Ìę Wellington happened to be the first World War II veteran I spoke with during the event.Ìę Even in 2016, World War II veterans were hard to find.Ìę Interviewing this American Hero was a top priority for my story.ÌęÌę

“I feel honored that people remember,” said Wellington during that first interview.Ìę His interview lasted a total of five seconds.Ìę Neither he nor I knew that those five seconds would lead to several more television appearances and a friendship that lasted until this last December.Ìę

Months after the exhibition, Transylvania County offered the 51șÚÁÏÍű Museum an unused building next to the Historical Courthouse.Ìę Wellington attended the opening ceremonies and quickly became an everyday fixture at the Museum.ÌęÌę

Wellington sits for a conversation with an attendee of the 51șÚÁÏÍű History Museums first WWII conference.Ìę

The museum volunteers encouraged his presence. Often, visitors would get the extra treat of taking a selfie with a World War II veteran as part of the museum experience.Ìę To boost the museum’s social media reach, I posted pictures of Wellington with visitors.Ìę I often joked with Harold that he was “the coolest artifact the museum had to display.”Ìę

Soon, a new chair arrived in the museum’s reception area.Ìę It is a movie director’s folding chair with “Harold” embroidered across the back.Ìę A fitting addition to the furniture of the museum and a testament to the amount of time Wellington dedicated to the cause.

Wellington became much more than a visitor favorite as the Museum grew.Ìę He advised the Curator at the time that the Museum lacked any mention of a key group of sailors, very important to the war effort in the 1940s.

During WWII, Wellington served as a Merchant Marine on a Liberty Ship in the Battle of the Atlantic.Ìę I wasn’t the only volunteer Wellington educated on the almost forgotten service of the Merchant Marine.Ìę He donated two of his uniforms and tiny black and white square pictures of himself on a Liberty Ship, along with cards of the medals he earned.Ìę We found space for his treasured belongings, and the Museum’s Merchant Marine display came to life.Ìę

The addition of his uniforms to the museum’s WWII exhibit made Wellington happy, but not satisfied.Ìę He began searching the internet for more artifacts.Ìę He used his own money to purchase items like a liberty ship clock, a lifeboat sextant, and a life vest with “U.S Merchant Services” printed across the chest.Ìę

During this trip to the National WWII Museum, Wellington received the Congressional Gold Medal for serving in the Merchant Marines during WWII.

A trip to the National World War II Museum in New Orleans gave Wellington another idea.Ìę I accompanied Wellington on this visit and distinctly remember him saying to me, “Wouldn’t that look good in our museum?”Ìę He lifted his cane and pointed at a very large-scale model of a Liberty ship on display.Ìę I could tell by the look in his eyes that another internet search was in his future.Ìę

Not only did Wellington find a scale model that fit in the museum’s limited space. He also hand-crafted the glass display case that houses the model today.Ìę Determined to make the story of the Merchant Marine more prominent in the museum, Wellington donated the rare artifacts and the ship model with no expectation of repayment.

Wellington recieves the Congressinal Gold Medal from the United States Congress

Wellington’s generosity didn’t stop with the gift of his online acquisitions to the museum. In early 2020, President Donald J. Trump signed the Merchant Mariner Act into law.Ìę As part of the Act, Congress minted a Congressional Gold Medal in honor of the Merchant Marines of WWII.Ìę Every living Merchant Marine of WWII received a bronze copy of the gold medal from the government.

Wellington invited me to travel with him to the American Merchant Marine 51șÚÁÏÍű Association’s national convention, where the association unveiled the design of the medal to members and their families.Ìę In an interview for WLOS TV, I asked Wellington how he felt about receiving such a high honor from Congress.Ìę

“It’s great to be recognized ’cause we’ve been disregarded for so long,” said Wellington.Ìę “Like I say, we were bad-mouthed and called names
draft dodgers and all this other stuff for so many years.Ìę And now, we are finally getting the recognition for who we were and what we did.Ìę We are proud of it, and I think the people should be proud of it.”

Left, Wellington receives a quilt from the “Quilts of Honor” quilters in Hendersonville. Above, Wellington at his home in Brevard.

Wellington’s health prevented him from attending the official Congressional Gold Medal ceremony in Washington, DC, a year later.Ìę He received his bronze medal in the mail.Ìę The next day, Wellington brought the medal to the museum, and we placed it inside the glass case he constructed for the model of his Liberty Ship.

The Congressional Gold Medal is the oldest and highest civilian award in the United States.Ìę Yet, Wellington immediately shared the prize with the museum he loved.Ìę A selfless act on the scale of his original selfless act when he volunteered to serve America during her time of need eighty years ago.ÌęÌęÌę

Left, Wellington and George Sarros at the National WWII Museum in NOLA.Ìę Above, Wellington dressed out for the 4th of July with friends.

Wellington has now embarked on a new journey. To say goodbye, I will use an old nautical phrase as a blessing for a successful voyage.Ìę I believe I am speaking for everyone at the museum when I wish Harold “fair winds and following seas”. You, Sir, will be sorely missed.

Board Member Kenneth Corn is a regular contributor to the “Living Histories” blog.Ìę Corn has served as the Vice President of the Board of Directors and is one of the founding members of the 51șÚÁÏÍű History Museum.Ìę Before helping create this non-profit honoring 51șÚÁÏÍű, Corn worked as a journalist for several television stations in the state of North Carolina and deployed to Iraq with the 82nd Airborne as an embeded journalist in 2003 – 2004.

It Came Without Warning

By Tech. Sgt. Brian Christiansen, USAF (Ret.)

April 27, 2011 – Kabul, Afghanistan

It’s our job to document everything of importance here at the 438th Air Expeditionary Wing. Ask people what “importance” is, and you’ll get 300 different answers. Importance is defined in this office is as, what will turn heads? Grip and Grins
 not so much. Some random general making a visit to get his picture taken, to prove he was here? – Not if I can help it. A box of nomax hoods that arrives from North Carolina, donated by funds raised by volunteer firefighters? – I’m on it.

Getting back to it, our office of 4 – it’s our responsibility to train an office of 8 people. We really didn’t have a plan we I arrived here. After finding indirectly that it was an additional duty, we just knew we needed to start going over to their headquarters building every couple days and talk about photography, video or something to do with public affairs.

No Set Schedule

“For now, Christiansen, I want you to go over there once a week and just talk about photography”, my supervisor delegated to me, without giving me any set details. Um
. ok. I know the Afghans in the PA office. Other than speaking Dari, and not really knowing what they are saying, they’re pretty cool. They always offer me chai tea when I go over. Normally, I always have Yama, our Afghan civilian who’s our translator. Good kid. 20-something.

It was my turn to teach. It was my day. I woke up in the most foul mood. I didn’t want to help them
 I walked to work late. I knew I was going to tell my boss I wasn’t ready to teach them. I’d lied. I was in the foulest of moods and couldn’t figure out why
 and didn’t care.

I left my dorm around 8:30am. We have to be at work by 7:30am. Ooops. The first time I slept late. Generally, if you are running late to your own office, you might think about bringing doughnuts. There’s not a Krispy Kreme for 8000 miles.

The Foulest of Moods

My boss had made his point a few weeks earlier. If you need a morning that you want to sleep inn, go ahead and take a couple hours.” Since we work 7 days/12 hours a day, we need a breather. This morning happened to be mine. I slept past my alarm. I was in a foul mood. I mean
 no coffee, out of coffee, and there isn’t any coffee for miles — type of mood.

My boss had made his point a few weeks earlier. If you need a morning that you want to sleep inn, go ahead and take a couple hours.” Since we work 7 days/12 hours a day, we need a breather. This morning happened to be mine. I slept past my alarm. I was in a foul mood. I mean
 no coffee, out of coffee, and there isn’t any coffee for miles — type of mood.

The Long Walk

We have to walk a mile to work. Then we have a mile to walk back to the dorms. Then we walk to lunch, about 3 blocks, and then 3 blocks back. And then another mile back to work. And then a mile back to the dorms at the end of the day. Now that you have all that in your head, there’s a turn style about 1/4 of the way to work. It’s like a turn style made for Oopma Loompas. Seriously – if you have any gear on like a backpack, you have to take it off and have it in front of you, as if it’s another person, in order for you to get thru.

So, it’s 8:30am. I’m walking to work by myself with my leather holster and wearing my 9mm pistol. We wear them every day – it just goes with the territory. I’m walking under this cloud in my mind that was bringing me down. I was pissed at the cloud. I still don’t know why I was mad. I remember bumping my head against one of the railings going thru the turn style, and that pissed me off even more.

Afghan Army Soldier

My long walk became even longer when an Afghan Army soldier walked out onto the street, he was about 20 yards in front of me. He was going in the same direction I was. He kept turning around, looking at me. My eyes were hidden by $10 Target plastic sunglasses. Again, and again, and again, he kept turning around while we were walking that 3/4 of a mile scanning me to see what I was doing, to see my reaction.

While he had turned back in the direction he was walking, I unsnapped my holster, more from anger, and less from cautious observation. He finally turned to his right. I kept thinking about it. What would I do? Could that have been something real, or was that guy just paranoid? My mood returned to me as I got closer to my building, and I could swear it was Monday, I wanted nothing to do with work.

Not Ready to Teach

“Sorry”, I softly and carefully said to my boss; and in the same breath I said, “I don’t think I’m ready to teach this class”. I didn’t want him to know that I was in a foul mood. In the same breath I remember saying to him. “I just really want to give them the best presentation possible.” I was lying thru my teeth. “No problem. We can work on it tomorrow or the next day. Right now I have to go over and see their public affairs officer.” And there went my boss. I was standing there with my backpack still on, and my head still ringing from hitting the turn style and he ran out the door. I thought it was absolutely perfect – I didn’t have to deal with him for the next hour. I could just unwind.

That’s what I did. 2 cups of coffee later, I sat at my desk checking to see what news was happening back home online. We have this young 22 year old Navy kid. He’s an OK photographer. Not great, but decent, that works with us. He sat in his corner of the room, and I sat in mine. We sat there for a little over an hour.

Tech. Sgt. Brian Christiansen standing in front of the last three Afghanistan fighter jets left at the Kabul airport.Ìę

Yelling.

Screaming.

Confusion.


 Action.

Then we heard it. I’ve heard it before, but I just couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Shots fired in the distance. Yelling. Lots of yelling just outside our door. Boots on gravel running. Our office sits on the second floor overlooking the gravel parking lot
 except that we don’t have an overlook. “WHAT WAS THAT!!? I’m gonna go find out!!” I was alone. What I had wished for in the beginning. I suddenly changed my mind. I wanted everyone near me. My photographer came back up the stairs. “SHOTS FIRED! WE’RE UNDER ATTACK! IM GONNA GO HELP WITH SECURITY!!!” “Take your camera!”, I jabbed as he was running out the door. He stopped. He turned around. I’ll never forget what he did next.

Under Attack!Ìę

Someone else came into my office and told me to put my helmet and body armor on. “Holy Shit.” Is all I could even say or think. My boss was out of the office, my photographer was somewhere playing security, and here I am, trying to wrestle my vest on, and I’m thinking
 “This isn’t supposed to happen.” Five minutes later I was downstairs where the WOC (Wing Operations Center) was. A room with the sign “Secret”, was above the door, and the door was wide open. 51șÚÁÏÍű 5 officers were huddled inside the room, talking on radios, cell phones, and one on a dry erase board.

I had my camera. Someone told me to go to “Black”. Black is where you arm your weapon, there’s a chamber in the round, and it’s not on safety. In other words, expect the worse. I stood there listening to the intel that was coming over the phones, and the airman writing down information, and verbally repeating what he was hearing. He said something that will forever change my view of a military exercise to a military operation.

“Confirmed 5 American casualties
.. understood
 fatalities”

The worst feeling in the world took over the room, and two men exited without making a word and immediately got down on their knees, and prayed.

Less than a minute later, they stood, shook off everything they could, and returned to their office to do their job – monitor the radios and receive any information to help us. To us, we were at war
 and alone.

We were in lockdown mode. No one left. No one came inside. Everyone who had body armor wore it. All personnel had their weapons ready to fire — we were all defenders that day, and there was no way in hell anyone who didn’t belong was going to get inside.

The Fog of War

“There’s got to be a mistake. There’s no way that something like this could happen.” I heard several people quietly asked others. “I don’t know.” The information wasn’t coming in fast enough. It was hardly coming in at all. Only a radio inside the WOC (Wing Operations Center) kept coming to life with that hissing tone right before someone would begin their transmission.

Several of us took key positions around the building, creating a security perimeter. We didn’t know what we were up against. Information wasn’t coming in. Imaginations were louder than voices.

One man?

Two men?

Suicide bomber?

A truck full of Taliban?

For the next 6 hours we were pinned inside of our building. “How long are we going to stay here?” was the common question. As the day went on, more and more personnel who worked in different buildings were allowed to enter. We were the only safe refuge on our side of the base. They brought their Afghanistan translators. “No cell phones, no calls, no texts!” The order was given to the translators, just in case


There’s a phrase that is said by everyone, everywhere. “It’s great to see you.” That phrase will always mean something to me from now on. When at first we didn’t know who the 9 were every time another person that you knew came thru the front door, you heard yourself say, “Thank God.” You instinctively ran over to them and hugged them, and spoke to their heart, “It’s great to see you.”

The Names

What?

I’m trying to make sense of something that I just can’t fathom. That’s where I was supposed to teach a photography class that morning
. in that building. My mind did one of those weird flashbacks
 I was in a foul mood and I didn’t want to go
 I later found out that it was in the room next door. My mind was busy wrapping itself around that I almost missed the announcement. “We’re moving out now!!”

We were told to collect anything we needed to take with us. Needed
 not wanted. We were leaving our compound, and going back to the NATO side of the base. We hadn’t left the building all day, except for a small few of us, who tried to find any cover of protection, and provide security, even if it was a 5 inch wide support pole for an awning, it was cover for the time being. Others had left much earlier in the day, but were given the worst possible duty known to anyone – recovering the fallen, and their belongings. God bless those people and the medics on scene. God bless those families.

Evacuate

Our compound sits right next to an entrance of the runway. Once our driver cleared the gate, he floored it. I’ve never ridden in the back of a truck that was going so fast on an open flight line. I felt like we were going to fall out. They drove past the blades of several helicopters with inches to spare from the tops of trucks. I looked to my left to the back of the truck. Beyond exhaustion was everyone’s faces.

Debriefings

We arrived at the NATO side of the base. The drive couldn’t have taken more than 30 seconds. After the trucks parked, we all got out, and walked in single file lines. Military walked on as every translator was searched again.

They had us go into a huge tent to await debriefings. We were agitated, exhausted, irritable, and patience was the last thing on our minds. So was the food. That was our next stop. We took turns clearing our weapons before we all went into the dining hall where we would all synchronously play with our food for the next hour as the realization set in
 9 of us were gone.

Military members pay their final respects during a memorial service for eight Airmen and one retired Army civilian contractor killed on April 27, 2011 when a gunman opened fire during a meeting. The event is the deadliest single attack on Air Force members since the 1996 attack by terrorists on Khobar Towers in Dhahran, Saudi Arabia. (U.S. Air Force Photo/Tech. Sgt. Brian Christiansen)

We Will Never Forget Them

Helmets, rifles, dog tags, boots. Nine of them. The striking and eerie memorial you see at most every American hero who is laid to rest. But never had anyone ever seen Nine. 5 had the helmet of a pilot, complete with the dark visor pulled down and oxygen mask and hose. The other 4 were mounted with the basic soldiers’ helmet. 4 of them. Nothing basic about it.

It was Sunday afternoon. It felt like 3 weeks had gone by – not 3 days. People began lining up close to an hour and a half before the service started, to say goodbye to these makeshift statues. As the line slowly moved, every person reached out and held the dog tags of each of the fallen. People were leaving coins, patches, cigars, and even a set of glow in the dark neon glasses on the base of each figure.

The program finally started. It was silent. You could hear the sniffles of so many people trying to keep it together for the next hour. They performed a roll call. It hurt even more when they got to silence. Those stating they were there were deafened by the silence.

“Major Brodeur”. Silence.

Each name was read 3 times each. People were balling by the end of the end of the service.

It was finally beginning to hit me. The service was over, and I stood there with my camera at my side, towards the front, and knew that I needed to observe with my eyes and heart instead of my lens. People were saying their final goodbyes while they slowly shifted from one statue to the next. It was getting stronger. The knot that starts in your throat and begins to take over your heart. I almost had control over it, except someone touched my shoulder, “We’re going to get thru this”. I was useless at that point.

We returned in force a few days later. No one ever let their guard down. We continued where we left off. Advising the Afghan Air Force. Everyone watched the backs of everyone else. We would not let something like this ever happen again.

Kabul, Afghanistan. Airmen of the 438th Air Expeditionary Wing join in prayer before the dignified transfer of remains begins at the Kabul International Airport. (U.S. Air Force Photo/Tech. Sgt. Brian Christiansen)

The sight was overwhelming. It took your breath away to see that many flags in a row. Many tried to push their emotions aside, and carry the fallen. I was asked to take pictures for the families. In all my years as a photographer, and all the military funerals I’ve covered, including one at Arlington, this was overwhelming. It seemed like thousands of military personnel, from every branch, from every country stood there at attention, saluting our fallen friends as they were being carried to a C-130 cargo plane.

In Honor and Memory of

Editors Note: Brian is a photojournalist for the North Carolina Air National Guard during “Guard” weekends, and during the week, he works for the N.C. Army Guard – doing the same thing. “It’s my job to capture life — unscripted. Everyone has a story, it’s my job to help tell it in pictures.”

Members of American Legion Post 88, 51șÚÁÏÍű of Foreign Wars Post 4309, and the 51șÚÁÏÍű have joined forces to honor all veterans with a night of food, fellowship, and dancing on 51șÚÁÏÍű Day in Brevard, North Carolina.Ìę Larry Hammontree, Commander of American Legion Post 88, encourages local veterans and citizens of Transylvania County to attend this annual event paying tribute to local heroes.

“51șÚÁÏÍű Day is the one day to celebrate the service of all veterans,” said Hammontree. “Whether it be the Ground Combat Veteran, a door gunner in a Huey, the Mess Cook or the Specialist that folds the sheets on an Aircraft Carrier; All jobs are important and should be celebrated.”

John Rodgers, Commander of 51șÚÁÏÍű of Foreign Wars Post 4309, agrees.

“In the spirit of cooperation with the American Legion, members of VFW Post 4309 accepted Post 88 invitation to participate in this event celebrating military service,” said Rodgers.

The celebration kicks off at 5 pm at 55 E. Jordan Street, in downtown Brevard.Ìę Veteran Rick Selimos volunteered his extensive music collection and talent as a disc jockey for the entertainment of the evening.

“Come out and have a ball listening and dancing to your favorite classics including the ‘60s, 70s, 80s, Motown, Carolina Beach music, and more,” said Selimos. Ìę“Show off those dance moves and enjoy a classic slow dance with your sweetie in the name of honoring our veterans.”

Hammontree said the American Legion and VFW will provide heavy hors d’oeuvres and a cash bar for the event.Ìę 51șÚÁÏÍű are encouraged to dress in uniform and participants in business casual.

Tickets are on sale at the 51șÚÁÏÍű, the American Legion, or the VFW.Ìę All proceeds from ticket sales fund veteran’s programs at the American Legion and the VFW.

Sgt. Maj. C. R. (Bobby) Kotlowski, USMC (Ret.) has been named interim curator of the 51șÚÁÏÍű. Emmett Casciato, museum founder and curator, is stepping away from his museum duties until after the November election, as he runs for the office of Transylvania Board of Commissioners.

Asked for details of his work on theÌęYorktown, Kotlowski said, “I created several exhibits on the ship: the wardroom, officers’ mess, snack bar, sailors’ gift shop, and the galley and scullery. I restored these rooms to their 1968 configurations (before the ship was decommissioned). I handled each year’s 4^thÌęof July event, which drew approximately 28,000 people. Pre-pandemic, weÌęhandled around 350 events each year, including corporate events, retirements, and weddings, as well as educational/historical events, school groups, and Scout camps.”

“And the fact that people bring personal items of their family members—you do not see that very often in larger museums. People have brought in some really unique things. It’s highly unusual to have the quality of artifacts being brought here. Our displays are more on a personal level, each one part of a story of an individual. That’s what makes this place unique. Larger museums have to ‘speak’ in generalities about historical events.

“This museum is personal. That’s the first thing I noticed. There’s a feeling of connection with the town and the county. This community has a sense of ownership of this place. I’ve enjoyed every minute of volunteering here.

Veteran Makes Call to Action!

By Kenneth Corn

From the time David Cook turned seven years old until he raised his right hand to
take the oath to defend his county, he knew he was destined to join the US Navy.Ìę

Cook can trace his family’s Navy service back four generations.Ìę His father finished
his Navy career in the same year Cook completed boot camp.Ìę You could say Cook
was born to be in the Navy.

Cook said his father ‘pulled a few strings with the Admiral’ to get him assigned to
Naval Air Station North Island in San Diego, California, where his father served.Ìę
When he arrived at his first command, Cook’s division officer said his father had
requested Cook for the next day and for him to wear his Service Dress Blue
uniform.Ìę Cook asked his father, “What’s going on?”

“He said, ‘I’m getting a Navy commendation medal and I want you standing ranks
with me.’ I thought that was pretty cool,” said Cook. “I got to have tea with the
ŽĄ»ćłŸŸ±°ùČč±ô.”

A picture of David Cook after Bootcamp. Cook said, “He knew he was destined to join the US Navy.”Ìę

Cook Steps Aboard the USS Kitty Hawk

Cook spent eighteen months at NAS North Island keeping Grumman C-1 Trader
aircraft in the air. On his second command assignment, Cook traded shore duty
(land-based duty) for sea duty. Sea duty meant that Cook would pack up his sea
bag and move on to a commissioned vessel.

Cook asked command, “what ship?”ÌęThe answer was the USS Kitty Hawk.
“I was like ‘cool’,” said Cook.Ìę “I joined up in North Carolina, so I had a connection
with it.”

That connection inspired Cook to read up on the Kitty Hawk’s history.Ìę Cook found
another fact that made him feel a bond with the aircraft carrier.

“I was born in 1961. The ship was commissioned in March of 1961,” said Cook.
“So, I had a connection with that, being so close to my birthday.Ìę It was kind of a
spiritual thing between me and the ship.”

A picture of the Northrop Grumman E-2 Hawkeye from Cook’s collection of memorabilia from his Navy career.

New Command meant New Aircraft

Cook’s new command also meant a new aircraft for Cook to keep flying. He would use his mechanic skills on the Northrop GrummanÌę E-2 Hawkeye, an all-weather, carrier-capable, tactical airborne early warning (AEW) aircraft.ÌęÌęÌę

“Our call sign was the Sun Kings,” said Cook. “Basically, it was what we call carrier airborne early warning squadron. Kind of like the Navy’s version of the Air Force’s AWACS. They actually called the Hawkeye the mother of the AWACS.Ìę We were the eyes and the ears of the fleet. We were always the first ones off the deck.”

An Encounter with a Russian SubmarineÌę

Cook’s bond with the USS Kitty Hawk grew stronger early one morning in
1984.ÌęAfter a training exercise with the South Koreans, the carrier continued
sailing through the Sea of Japan. Cook remembers that his squadron wasn’t flying
that night, but he was still at his post on the flight deck. Sometime near 0300
hours, Cook took a snack break that he would never forget.

“I went down to the berthing area and opened my coffin locker, grabbed a candy
bar, and about that time, it sounded like a bomb going off,” said Cook. “And I’m
like, oh my god, they have dropped a bomb on the flight deck.”
The Cold War between the former Soviet Union and the U.S. was in full swing.
Cook said the Kitty Hawk and the Russian submarine had been playing a game of
cat and mouse for weeks.

“Then I heard a scraping noise going down the side of the ship,” said Cook. “First, I
heard the bomb. Then, I heard the scraping noise, and I already knew we were
being followed or tracked by them. And I said, ‘I think we found her.”

Scared, but not surprised, Cook said these games between Russian and American
vessels were common during this period in American history.Ìę His own E-2
Hawkeye squadron took pictures of the Russian submarine very close to the
carrier’s battle group. Cook believes the Russian submarine had already crossed
the Kitty Hawk’s bow at least once before the collision.

“Hitting a nuclear submarine about where the reactor is, it’s a good thing that we
all didn’t get blown up,” said Cook.Ìę “It could have been bad.”

Cook saved a 1984 edition of Newsweek magazine containing this picture and a report of the collision with the Russian Submarine.Ìę

Reports of the collision appeared in world newspapers, magazines, and television.
As reported by Newsweek, both vessels escaped without serious damage. Cook
believes this footnote in the Cold War is just one piece of the carrier’s history that
should save the Kitty Hawk from the scrap yard.

A call to ActionÌę

“Even before they decommissioned her, I thought, I have to do something,” said Cook. “I would be devastated if they turned it into razor blades.”

The Navy’s last commissioned conventional-powered aircraft carrier operated for 48 years before it was decommissioned in 2009. The Kitty Hawk is also the last aircraft carrier that could be turned into a museum ship.Ìę According to the Navy, nuclear carriers require extensive disassembly to remove their nuclear reactors during decommissioning, leaving them in an unsuitable condition for donation.

BREMERTON, WA, UNITED STATES 03.09.2021 The Kitty Hawk was moved into Dry Dock 6 March 9th The Dry Docking will allow Marine growth to be removed from the hull in preparation for its departure and eventual dismantling. The Kitty Hawk was decommissioned in Puget Sound Naval Shipyard and Intermediate Maintenance Facility in 2009 following 48 years of active service. The ship has been “Mothballed” at The Inactive Ships Maintenance Facility since then.(US NAVY) Photo by Wendy Hallmark)

Cook says the Kitty Hawk should be anchored in Wilmington, NC, next to the USS
North Carolina battleship.Ìę “It would be great for tourism in North Carolina, and it
would also develop a lot of jobs,” said Cook.

USS Kitty Hawk 51șÚÁÏÍű Association had the same idea but as a Long Beach,
California, museum.Ìę In a newspaper article dated March of 2017, the
KitsapÌęSunÌęof Bremerton, Washington, reported that the Association secured a
spot and was simply waiting for the Navy to put the Kitty Hawk in a donation
hold.Ìę At the time, the carrierÌęsatÌęat the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard and
Intermediate Maintenance Facility along with four other decommissioned aircraft
carriers.

“Even though I was in the aviation field, there’s something about being at sea that
becomes a part of you,” said Cook.Ìę “It’s an awesome ship.”

In October of 2021, the KitsapÌęSunÌębroke the news that the Navy sold two aircraft
carriers to the International Shipbreaking Limited, which is based in Brownsville,
Texas.Ìę One of them was the USS Kitty Hawk. Even with this bad news, Cook says
he will continue to write letters to his congressmen and senators to save the
Hawk.

“Myself as a Navy veteran and all the other people that spent time on it, that was
our safe place to be when we visited other countries,” said Cook.Ìę “It was our
łóŽÇłŸ±đ.”

“It was our home,” said David Cook, USS Kitty Hawk veteran.Ìę Above, Cook shows friend Michele Bretz his collection of memorabilia from his service on the Kitty Hawk.

Ìę

102-year-old Charlie Mills of Pearland, TX, holds up the Congressional Gold Medal at the U.S. Capitol.

“[President Franklin D. Roosevelt] called their mission the most difficult and dangerous transportation job ever undertaken,” House Speaker Nancy Pelosi said at the ceremony.

World War II Merchant Mariners Honored with Congressional Gold Medal

From: www.navy.mil/Press-Office/News-Stories/Article

In 2020, Congress passed the Merchant Mariners of World War II Congressional Gold Medal Act to recognize the merchant mariners for their courage and contributions during the war.

“In World War II, U.S. Merchant Mariners and their shipmates of the U.S. Navy Armed Guard sailed in harm’s way to deliver what was needed to prevail not only across the Atlantic and Pacific but through the Indian Ocean, and across the Arctic Circle,” Rear Adm. Michael Wettlaufer, Commander, Military Sealift Command stated at the ceremony. “This Gold Medal recognition acknowledges the strategic advantage American mariners brought to the fight in linking domestic production and the fighting forces overseas.”

World War II-era Merchant Mariners crewed the nation’s Liberty Ships, which were used to transport critical war-time vehicles, weapons equipment, ordinance, and supplies to the European and Pacific Theaters. Many of the Merchant Mariners who served during World War II never came home as their ships were sunk by enemy forces while traveling to their overseas destinations.

“The price of victory was extraordinary,” declared Wettlaufer. “Of the 250,000 members of the American Merchant Marine who served our country during the war, 12,000 were wounded in action and over 9,000 perished at sea, including 142 cadets from the United States Merchant Marine Academy in King’s Point, New York, who were killed during the conflict. Their personal sacrifice was great and commitment to our nation’s freedom unparalleled.”

Dave Yoho(left), a World War II-era Merchant Mariner shaking hands with fellow Merchant Mariner 102-year-old Charlie Mills (right).

Ìę

Dave Yoho, a 94-year-old World War II-era Merchant Mariner, spoke at the ceremony. Yoho said it was his role to speak at the ceremony for the Mariners of World War II who cannot speak for themselves.

“I’m speaking for 248,500 guys that are already dead,” he told those who attended the ceremony. “One out of 26 of us died, but thousands of us came home deprived of a part of our life.”

“That’s probably one of the least-understood missions that ever was accomplished in modern warfare,” he said of the merchant mariners’ role in supporting the U.S. military.

Yoho urged those in attendance to share the story of the World War II Merchant Marines so that future generations can learn from their sacrifices and dedication.

“And, so, when you’re with others, say to them of what we did; urge them to read about us and find out about us,” Yoho stated. “Greet us today if you can [and] then say to those, ‘we gave up our yesterdays for your better tomorrow’.”

The Congressional Gold Medal is the highest expression of national appreciation which the U.S. Congress can bestow for distinguished achievements and contributions. Each medal honors a particular individual, institution, or event, according to the U.S. House of Representatives’ website.

51șÚÁÏÍű Honored on Capitol Hill After Long Voyage for Recognition

From The American Merchant Marine 51șÚÁÏÍű (AMMV) Press ReleaseÌę

WASHINGTONÌę—Today, theÌęÌę(AMMV) commended the 10 veterans of the U.S. Merchant Marine awarded the Congressional Gold Medal for their service during World War II. The Congressional Gold Medal is the highest honor bestowed by the U.S. Congress. The veterans received the Congressional Gold Medal at the U.S. Capitol on behalf of the approximately 1,500 remaining Merchant Mariners of WWII.

Congressional Gold Medal Ceremony, May 18th, 2022Ìę

“The bravery demonstrated by the U.S. Merchant Mariners to keep Allied Forces supplied during World War II is second to none,”Ìęsaid Dru DiMattia, President of the American Merchant Marine 51șÚÁÏÍű.Ìę“In the face of targeted attacks by German submarines and U-boats, the unarmed Merchant Mariners met the moment with resilience and courage, and serve as an inspiration for all of American Maritime.”

ABOUT THE WORLD WAR II MERCHANT MARINERS:Ìę

• There were 243,000 mariners that served in the war. 9,521 perished while serving – a higher proportion of those killed than any branch of the US military.
• Roughly four percent of those who served were killed, a higher casualty rate than that of any of the American military services during World War II.
• Merchant Mariners experienced some of the earliest action of the war due to German submarines attacking British merchant ships in the Atlantic, disrupting supply chains to America’s allies.
• These mariners were not provided veteran status until 1988.

Board member Colonel Larry Chapman, USMC Ret. and Curator Emmett Casciato set up a booth for the 51șÚÁÏÍű at the commissioning ceremony of the USS Frank E. Petersen, Jr. (DDG 121) on May 14th, in Charleston, SC. Photo by Michel Robertson.

The Navy invited representatives from the 51șÚÁÏÍű to participate in the commissioning ceremony of the USS Frank E. Petersen, Jr. (DDG 121) on May 14th.Ìę Founder and Curator Emmett Casciato with the help of board member Colonel Larry Chapman, USMC Ret. set up a booth of Navy artifacts for ceremony attendees to enjoy before and after the commissioning ceremony. Board Treasurer Michel Robertson and advisory board member Beth Robertson also attended the ceremony representing the museum.Ìę Beth Robertson is a member of the commissioning committee for the USS Frank E. Petersen, Jr. and is responsible for securing the museum’s invitation to the event.

Children of attendees of the commissioning ceremony pose for a picture in front of the 51șÚÁÏÍű History Museum booth. Photo by Michel Robertson.Ìę

Curator Emmett Casciato shows an attendee museum artifacts. Photo by Michel Robertson.

Navy Press Release on the Commissioning

The USS Frank E. Petersen Jr. awaits to be commissioned in Charleston, S.C., May 14, 2022. Lt. General Petersen served in Korea and Vietnam during his career and his legacy is carried on today as an American hero and as an outstanding Marine. (U.S. Marine Corps photo by Lance Cpl. Dylon Grasso)

The color guard presents the colors during the commissioning of the USS Frank E. Petersen Jr. in Charleston, S.C., May 14, 2022. Lt. General Petersen served in Korea and Vietnam during his career and his legacy is carried on today as an American hero and as an outstanding Marine. (U.S. Marine Corps photo by Lance Cpl. Dylon Grasso)

U.S. Navy sailors march during the commissioning of the USS Frank E. Petersen Jr. in Charleston, S.C., May 14, 2022. Lt. General Petersen served in Korea and Vietnam during his career and his legacy is carried on today as an American hero and as an outstanding Marine. (U.S. Marine Corps photo by Lance Cpl. Dylon Grasso)

Museum Treasurer Michel Robertson in front of the Navy’s newest Arleigh Burke-class destroyer USS Frank E. Petersen, Jr. (DDG 121), May 14 in Charleston, South Carolina.Ìę Photo by Michel Robertson.

Ìę

Advisory board member Beth Robertson in front of Arleigh Burke-class destroyer USS Frank E. Petersen, Jr. (DDG 121). Robertson is a member of the commissioning committee for the USS Frank E. Petersen. Photo by Michel Robertson.Ìę

WWII Merchant Mariners Get

Long-Deserved Recognition As Combat 51șÚÁÏÍű

by Ken Corn

Brevard resident and World War II veteran Harold Wellington (pictured above) traveled to Baltimore for the 2020/21 American Merchant Marine Veteran Convention and Congressional Gold Medal celebration. This year, the convention is notable because the U.S. Government will recognize the Merchant Marines who fought during the Battle for the Atlantic of World War II as combat veterans.

In 2019 Congress passed the Merchant Mariner Act.Ìę The Merchant Mariner sailors were officially recognized for shipping supplies to the Allies while sailing defenseless against German submarines patrolling the Atlantic Ocean. President Donald J. Trump signed the Act into law in the spring of 2020.Ìę The remaining living World War II Merchant Marines, like Harold Wellington, were supposed to be awarded the Congressional Gold Medal during the 2020 convention. The COVID 19 pandemic postponed the ceremony in the summer of 2020 and in November of 2020. Finally, the Merchant Marine Association organized this convention to honor these veterans with the Congressional Gold medal to these deserving veterans.

The attendees of the event visited the S.S. John W. Brown docked in the Port of Baltimore.Ìę “Welcome aboard the John W. Brown, please watch your step,” A John Brown docent said as twenty-one WWII veterans, eleven of them over 100-years-old, climbed up the gangway and into the past.

The S.S. John Brown is one of only two remaining operational Liberty Ships that participated in World War II. The tour brought back memories for 94-year-old Edward Pascale.

“A lot of memories of being up at night, all night standing by the guns.Ìę The submarines were out there and they were hunting, and we were chasing the submarines,” described Pascale.

Museum V.P. Ken Corn shoots video of Merchant Mariner Edward Pascale on the deck of the SS John W Brown.

These men faced an enemy hidden by the sea. They never knew when they were about to be ambushed.Ìę Some of these men served in the engine room forty feet below the waterline. According to Brevard resident Harold Wellington, if a ship were to be hit by a torpedo, the water would pour in on top of the men in the engine room, and they would not get out. Standing in the boiler room of the John Brown, Wellington remembers his first time stepping foot on a Liberty Ship. His supervisor took him down into the engine room and left him there with no training.

“They brought me down here and said, ‘this is the boiler room you got the first watch,’ then turned and walked off,” said Wellington. “I have never seen this thing before. What in the hell do I do now?”

Merchant Mariner Harold Wellington talks about his time aboard a Liberty Ship during WWII

Being a Merchant Marine was a dangerous job in a war zone. The U.S. Government refused to acknowledge the Merchant Mariner as a combat veteran. WWII Merchant Mariner, Lee Cox, remembers how the other servicemen unfairly treated him. Cox said other military personal believed the merchant sailors were civilians instead of people serving their county.

Cox said, “We got insulted a lot during the war by the Army guys.” He went on to say that Navy guys would say, “Hey draft dodger drunks”.

Bill Balabanow also remembers his days in the Merchant Services during the war.Ìę He believes the American public did not give the same recognition to the merchant sailors as other military branches.

“Our casualty rate was higher than any other branch in the Service,” said Balabanow. “People don’t know we were there during the invasions of all those islands in the Pacific.”

WWII Merchant Mariner Lee Cox in the engine room of the Liberty Ship SS John W. Brown during a tour.ÌęÌę

At a gala dinner the last night of the convention, the U.S. Maritime Administrator unveiled the secret design for the Merchant Marine Congressional medal. Medal shortages caused by the Covid 19 Pandemic prevented the Maritime Administrator from awarding the gold medal to the veterans. The U.S. Mint will not publicly release the images on the medal until they make the awards. The attendees of the convention got a sneak peek at the drawings of the medal. The Maritime Administrator asked everyone in the room not to publish pictures of the drawing on social media and asked the press not to release any images on professional media outlets.

51șÚÁÏÍű like 101-year-old Charles A. Mills say that it is about time that the government recognizes their combat service.

“No Army, Navy, Coast Guard, or Marine Corps can move without the U.S. Merchant Marine because we are the supplier,” Mills declared. “You can’t fight a war without a supplier.”

Interview with Myrl Jean Hughes

By Janis Allen

WWII Pacific Theater

Myrl Jean Hughes tells her story: “I grew up in Hibbing, Minnesota, 100 miles from the Canadian border. My dad owned a printing business, printing stationery and booklets and other things. I had a sister and a brother and lived in a three-generation family. My grandfather had died as a result of a mining accident, so my grandmother was living with us.

“I was the baby of the family. The story I’m told was that when my parents brought me home from the hospital, my grandmother had been babysitting my brother. As soon as we came in the house, my grandmother took me out of my mother’s arms and said, ‘This one’s mine, you can have that one,’ and handed my brother (who was in his terrible twos) to my mother. My grandmother, Mary Tallon, raised me as much as my mother did. I had a very nice childhood.

Medical & Military

“I had been a pre-med major at the University of Minnesota’s junior college in Hibbing because I had intended to go into medical technology. I had taken anatomy, physiology, and organic chemistry. In that small town, the junior college was held in the same building with all the other lower classes. You could go from Kindergarten through junior college in the same building!

“Because the war was on, I knew my parents wouldn’t be able to send me to complete the rest of college, so I wanted to find something I could do for myself. My sister had convinced me, rather than going into nursing, to go into something where you didn’t have to work with people. Well, I discovered I loved working with people.

“The Army and Mayo clinic had combined to create a quickie course in physical therapy—six months of training at Mayo Clinic. After that, you could decide if you wanted to continue and get a commission in the Army. In 1942, I was accepted into the program and received my training in physical therapy from the U.S. Army and the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. Then there was six months of apprenticeship in an Army hospital, which I did in Louisville, Kentucky at Nichols General Hospital. The Army paid for everything except room and board.

“In 1943 when I was 20, I got my commission as 2^ndÌęLieutenant. I left Nichols General on Wednesday, January 5, 1944 for Camp Ellis, IL to join the 334^thÌęStation Hospital.ÌęWe left Camp Ellis by troop train on January 18^thÌęfor Camp Stoneman, CA, arriving on January 21.ÌęWe left Camp Stoneman on January 27 via the Matsonia for Brisbane, Australia, arriving there on February 12, 1944.”

The Evolution of Physical Therapy

“In recent years, I have gone to Pardee Hospital’s rehab center near here to exercise. I marveled at the progress that the profession has made and enjoy watching the therapists working with people with all kinds of imagination. We really weren’t allowed to do anything on our own. Now they get advanced degrees and can do anything they like.

“In the days when physical therapy was being born, we had three magic words: heat, massage, and exercise. We had very little equipment. We had infrared lamps and warm whirlpool baths—one for arms and one for legs. For exercise, we had certain procedures for certain injuries. I had a corpsman with me, too. The two of us took care of all the patients.”

Hughes’ Story in a Book

[Note: Myrl Jean Hughes’ story was documented in the 2006 book Natural Born Heroes: WWII Memories from One North Carolina Neighborhood (2006) by Bob Johnson. Several excerpts throughout this story (shown in italics) help relate her history.]

The U.S. Army had a policy that women could not serve overseas unless they were 21 years old. Myrl Jean turned 21 in January 1944 and was given orders to New Guinea. She boarded a ship in San Francisco and sailed to Brisbane, Australia, staying there four and one-half months while the hospital was being built.

A Promise Kept

Hughes said, “My mother had made me promise that I would not volunteer for overseas service. My birthday is January 1. On January 4 I had orders to go overseas. They only waited three days after I hit 21! But I kept my promise to my mother because I hadn’t volunteered. When I wrote to my mother to tell her that I was going to go, her letter to me crossed in the mail with my letter. She absolved me of my responsibility for volunteering, saying that if she had been in my shoes, she would have volunteered.”

The 334^thÌęStation Hospital had been built by the men of the hospital, while the female nurses, a dietician, and Myrl Jean Hughes, the unit’s only physical therapist, waited in Australia. By June of 1944, the hospital was completed, and the women joined the hospital in Hollandia, New Guinea. The hospital was a frame structure much like the thousands of wooden Army barracks built in the States during the war.

Hughes said, “It looked very much like a M.A.S.H. building. That’s why I always liked watching M.A.S.H. During that four months we waited in Australia, we lived in two different places. At first, we were in Ipswich, Australia, just outside Brisbane. At some point the women all got moved to what been a monastery in the mountains.”

To the Southwest Pacific

“We had traveled to Australia on a very ‘cruisy’ ship, the Matsonia (pictured at right), which, in peacetime, was a luxury liner going between California and Hawaii. It took us two weeks from California to Australia. I think part of that was because they were zigzagging all the way to avoid submarines. But that was very enjoyable.” She laughed, “We even put on a talent show on the ship. I sang. I sang songs like ‘Stardust’ and the Andrews Sisters’ songs, like ‘Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree with Anyone Else but Me.’”

Myrl Jean had been treating illnesses and injuries in the South Pacific since her arrival in New Guinea in June 1944. However, with the invasion of Leyte in The Philippines on October 20, 1944, the hospital got its first rush of casualties in early November. MacArthur waded ashore in Leyte on October 25, and the island was finally secure by Christmas Day.

Those the medics could not fix were taken care of by the field hospitals. What the field hospitals couldn’t take care of either went back to the States or to a station hospital. Myrl Jean’s unit was a station hospital which took care of serious illnesses or injuries. Some of the sick or injured patients returned to their units, while others were stabilized for transport back to the States. Myrl Jean, as a physical therapist, took care of orthopedic and leg amputee cases. The hospital did not supply prosthetics. She also took care of routine cases such as torn ligaments and back injuries.Ìę

Living in New Guinea

Myrl Jean Hughes remembered the everyday things about living in New Guinea, “New Guinea was often 130° during the day. We had special chocolate bars that wouldn’t melt. I think they were probably solid wax. They were perfectly usable for us, but when we came back into the States, there was no way you’d have gotten your teeth into them. They would be solid. They tasted like chocolate and weren’t bad, but all I could think of was that they must be made of wax.”

Hughes remembered one soldier on the ward whose leg was packed with ice. “The other soldiers would store their beers in the ice next to his leg, making him the most popular guy on the ward,” she laughed. “He was good-natured about it because the others came around so often.”

The Birth of Physical Therapy

Thinking about her profession, Hughes said, “It was many years after I returned home before I realized that physical therapy was just being born when I was in it. They hadn’t even decided whether to call it physical therapy or physiotherapy. I think in England it was called physiotherapy. But I didn’t know at the time that it was a new profession that I was a part of.”

The Evolution of Physical Therapy

“In recent years, I have gone to Pardee Hospital’s rehab center near here to exercise. I marveled at the progress that the profession has made and enjoy watching the therapists working with people with all kinds of imagination. We really weren’t allowed to do anything on our own. Now they get advanced degrees and can do anything they like.

“In the days when physical therapy was being born, we had three magic words: heat, massage, and exercise. We had very little equipment. We had infrared lamps and warm whirlpool baths—one for arms and one for legs. For exercise, we had certain procedures for certain injuries. I had a corpsman with me, too. The two of us took care of all the patients.”

Myrl Jean wore slacks rather than the dress uniforms worn in the States. She and her unit slept under mosquito nets. She was allowed to date men and enjoyed going aboard the visiting Navy ships where the food was much better than the Army food

Bob Hope and Jack Benny both put on USO shows on New Guinea. She enjoyed both shows but noted that the Jack Benny shows were more raunchy. Lew Ayres, the original actor in “Dr. Kildare,” was a conscientious objector who was assigned as a chaplain’s assistant in New Guinea and played the organ for services. One of Myrl Jean’s friends got married there and Myrl Jean sang at her wedding. Lew Ayers played the organ for the wedding.

Myrl Jean was playing baseball when the Japanese surrender was announced. The 334th Station Hospital was reassigned to Japan in 1945. They first went to The Philippines for about a month. Myrl Jean received orders back to the States, and then left the Army in 1946. After the war, she joined the American Legion because a woman there made a deal with her—that she would re-vamp Hughes’ uniform for general use. The woman offered this service because she wanted to get more women into the American Legion. Hughes has attended or hosted several reunions of the people who worked in the 334^thÌęStation Hospital.

Back in the States

Hughes continued, “When I got home, we had a new minister in our church who had been an Army chaplain. He wanted to start more programs for children and a youth choir. I was recommended to him to create these programs. They were all pretty successful. He asked me one day, ‘Have you ever considered full-time church work as a career?’ I thought he meant mission work, so I told him ‘I have no desire to go back under the Golden Gate Bridge.’ But he said what he had in mind was directing the education programs in different churches.”

A New Career

“I received a B.A. in Christian Education from Macalester (Presbyterian) College in St. Paul, Minnesota, and a Master of Arts from Columbia University in New York (in partnership with Union Seminary). At different times, I worked as Director of Christian Education for Presbyterian Churches in St. Paul, Cincinnati, and Bedminster, New Jersey, for 40 years altogether. My last job was as executive secretary for the Presbytery of Elizabeth, New Jersey.”

Myrl Jean has never married. She had been active in bowling, bridge, Lunch Bunch, Adopt-a-Highway, and The Patrol, at Haywood Knolls Community in Hendersonville, N.C. She moved to Hendersonville in 1994 from Bedminster, New Jersey.

Thoughts On Her Service

Hughes looked back, “I was in for 37 months and I’ve always said I would not want to repeat that three-year period, but by the same token, I wouldn’t trade it for any other period of my life. I wouldn’t trade it. It has meant that much to me in my life. I’m very glad I did it.”

Asked what she remembered most from her years of service, she said, “The thing that stands out most happened during a USO show. We were not very ‘G.I.’ there. We didn’t have reveille in the morning, raise the flag, or have taps at night. It was just like in M.A.S.H.—you didn’t see much evidence of patriotism.

“I can remember being at one of the shows—the show opened with the raising of the flag. It suddenly dawned on me—I was moved to tears when I realized that I had not seen the American flag for months. I can remember just sitting there practically bawling, seeing the flag raised and saying the Pledge of Allegiance. I hadn’t even thought about the flag before that. I realized it meant more to me than I thought it did.”

The Thomas Greenway Story

By Ken Corn

Polk county resident Thomas Greenway stands over his dining room table and spreads out a pile of old black and white photographs he took in Korea seventy years ago.

VP Ken Corn talks with Korean War Combat Medic Thomas Greenway at his home in Polk County.

“That’s a helicopter bringing men down to the 121 EVAC hospital from the front line,” Greenway says as he holds up a picture of a military helicopter. The copter in Greenway’s photo looks identical to the helicopters flying across the opening credits to the famous 80’s television show M*A*S*H. “They had a stretcher on the outside, one on either side.”

​

Greenway graduated from high school in 1949, only four years after the end of WWII. He knew from news reports that America started drafting young men to serve in the new war in Korea. Greenway said he had a plan.

“The first thing I done is join the Airforce to stay out of the Army,” said Greenway. “And then they froze the enlistments, and six months later I got a letter from Harry to be examined.”

When Greenway says a letter from “Harry”, he means a draft notice from President Harry Truman. The notice said Greenway needed to report to the US Army’s closest intake center to get a physical to see if he was fit for duty.

The draft notice presented a problem for Greenway. Greenway was a faithful man, very involved in his church. Greenway said he believed in the ten commandments and didn’t want to break them. He also didn’t want to tell the US Army that he was a conscientious objector. So Greenway says he went to basic training hoping he could somehow serve his Country without having to take another man’s life.

“I didn’t want to shoot anybody so they put me right where I wanted,” said Greenway. The Army trained Greenway to be a combat medic. “When I went out on patrol, I could carry a weapon or I could just carry a aid kit and a stretcher, whatever I want to.”

Command assigned Greenway to the 121st EVAC Hospital in Ascom City, Korea. Greenway said EVAC Hospitals were like regular hospitals further back from the front lines. No weapon needed to do his job.

“And that is where I said I thought I had it made,” said Greenway. “But within two or three months they needed medics on the front lines and I went up there as a front line medic.”

Greenway ended up on a Korean mountain range the Americans nick named “Heartbreak Ridge.”

“It was a hill where they, a lot of fighting and a lot of people got killed there,” said Greenway. “That was the reason they called it “Heartbreak Ridge.”

On the front line, Greenway’s new job was to go out on patrol with four men he called “stretcher bearers” and pick up wounded soldiers. Even though he was in a combat zone, he still didn’t carry a weapon.

“I had the aid kit,” said Greenway. “I had what we called a Morphine syrette. It looked like a little tube of toothpaste with Morphine in it. I would cut a hole into his coat and everything under it and give him a shot through that hole, then pin that little syrette to his jacket so they would know at the aid station that I gave him Morphine.”

One evening, Greenway remembers when an Officer stopped him and his stretcher bearers before they went out on patrol. The Captain asked Greenway’s friend, Private Harrington, ‘where is your weapon?’

“He says, ‘I don’t have one,’ and showed him his syrettes and aid kit,” said Greenway. “He said, ‘Captain, I have picked up a lot people with their rifle laying beside of them. People that came over on the same ship I did.”

In Korea, it didn’t make a difference what you carried said Greenway.

Greenway remembers that the hills were so steep and rocky that land mines were more dangerous to the medics than bullets.

“One of them stepped on a rock and his feet slid out from under him and he slid down into a mine and it went off,” said Greenway. “We went down to get him on the stretcher and stepped on another one and it finished killing the man on the stretcher. One of the medics carrying the man, it blow his legs off.”

After thirty days of serving on the front lines, Command moved Greenway back to the 121st Evac Hospital and awarded him with a combat badge.

“If anybody said they weren’t afraid, they were just fibbing,” said Greenway.

Greenway would have one more close call before leaving Korea.

“Along about January of 53’, I went to Japan on R&R,” said Greenway. “When I got down to Seoul airbase they said, ‘we got three places to go, Osaka, Tokyo, and Kokura’. They said ‘the Tokyo plane was pretty well loaded. It would be better if you go to one of the other places’. I said, ‘just to get away for over here, doesn’t make a difference where I go’. So I went to Kokura.”

“Seven days later, I came back and landed in Seoul,” said Greenway. “They called us all up to the platform there and they gave us paper, pencil, and an envelope and said, ‘write home’. The plane that went to Tokyo hit a mountain in Korea the first of 53’ and killed everybody on it.”

Not long after that letter, Greenway said he got some good news.

“One of my buddies came up and said, “Now your name is on the bulletin board to go home’, said Greenway. “So we was real happy about that.”

Greenway survived the Korean war without firing a single shot.