Teh One Who Knocks
11-12-2013, 12:34 PM
By Rebekah L. Sanders - The Arizona Republic
http://i.imgur.com/mfyNDqK.jpg
Matt Carlson spotted the medal in a heap of costume jewelry at a Glendale flea market.
A history buff and Vietnam War veteran, he recognized it immediately as a Purple Heart. The medal, which is given to service members wounded or killed in combat, was gold-colored with a purple ribbon. A soldier’s name was engraved on the back.
The merchant was asking $40.
Carlson, 59, had visited the market last February in search of vintage coins and military paraphernalia. But when he saw the Purple Heart, he thought of his uncle, who had earned three in World War II, and he knew it would be worth far more to its rightful owner than to any collector.
“If I lost something like that, I would want my family to have it back,” he said last week as he recounted the incident. “It’s something that can never be replaced.”
He pulled out his wallet and vowed to find where it belonged.
Little did Carlson know it would be a nine-month search that would span four states and involve dozens of volunteers and a U.S. congressman. It would also uncover the story of a young World War II private that touched Carlson more deeply than he could have imagined.
Carlson didn’t know if the medal’s recipient was alive. He didn’t know in which war it had been earned. The medal gave no indication.
But Carlson had the name of the soldier, Clarence M. Merriott, etched on the back. And it came with two letters that would aid in his search.
One was written by a commanding officer to Merriott’s father, informing him of the award. It was undated but addressed to Stilwell, Okla.
The other letter, dated April 21, 1944, was from Merriott to his family. It began:
U.S. Army
April 21, 1944
Dearest Mother, Dad + Sis,
Truly – hope you all are well! For myself I am just fine. I sure hope I get some mail tonight, as I haven’t got any from you in two days. ...
I am getting caught up with my writing but still have 8 more letters to write.
Carlson enlisted his computer-savvy son to search online.
They found a veterans organization dedicated to preserving the memory of a World War II battalion, the Army’s 300th Combat Engineers. The unit had drawn soldiers mostly from Texas, Arkansas, Louisiana and Oklahoma.
The battalion’s mission of building roads and bridges to advance the front lines put its men in the middle of some of the most brutal fighting in the European theater, from D-Day to the Battle of the Bulge.
In June 1944, two months after Merriott sent his letter, the unit suffered one of its deadliest days. More than 300 men were on their way to Normandy in the wake of the D-Day landing. It didn’t go as planned.
Merriott was among those killed in action.
***
Brad Peters, a volunteer with the 300th Combat Engineers group, received an e-mail from Carlson in May. He couldn’t believe what he read: A Purple Heart that might belong to a member of the battalion had been rescued from an Arizona flea market.
Peters, who lives in Massachusetts, promised to look for Merriott’s family. Perhaps a reunion of battalion veterans in Texas in a few months would provide a lead.
“It was a complete surprise,” said Peters, who has collected hundreds of photographs and stories from the battalion’s few remaining members. “We said we’d be willing to help any way we could.”
One veteran, Kenneth “Cowboy” Morris, was from a town near Stilwell. His grandson had just been elected to Congress from Oklahoma. The pair said they would help, too.
The local history museum also pitched in. Wanda Elliott, of the Adair County Historical and Genealogical Association, paged through census records, yellowing newspaper articles and a homemade scrapbook where she found a picture of Merriott.
His name was included on a town memorial honoring those who died in World War II.
For Carlson, Merriott’s letter to his family had stiffened his resolve to find the medal’s home as the months passed. It was brief, but the soldier’s love of family and life was evident.
Say, Mother did you ever get the cabinet made? I guess Dad has all of his corn planted by now. Boy I sure wish I was there to get some of that good warm spring sunshine. Well I must close for tonight.
Always your loving son
Clarence
***
Elliott eventually located a few distant relatives.
As far as anyone could tell, the medal had been lost during a family member’s move. How it ended up at a flea market in Arizona was a mystery.
The family asked that the medal and letters go to the town’s museum where they could be seen and appreciated by visitors.
Today, a ceremony will be held to mark the medal’s return to Merriott’s hometown.
“It shines a light back on this generation that we’re losing,” said U.S. Rep. Markwayne Mullin, whose grandfather “Cowboy” Morris served with Merriott and whose office helped plan the Veterans Day ceremony for the medal. “You understand the heritage ... and the sacrifice for (us) to be here today.”
The medal will be presented at a special program at Stilwell High School. Eleven living Purple Heart recipients will attend.
“This has become a big event that everyone is participating in,” Mullin said.
Carlson left Glendale last week to drive the 1,200 miles to attend the event.
***
The search and event have taken on a more personal connection for Carlson.
As he learned how Merriott died, and saw his photo for the first time last week, he felt an eerie kinship with the soldier from an earlier generation.
“Before, it was just a medal that I wanted to get returned to the right people,” Carlson said. “But now it’s more.”
On June 19, 1944, Merriot was on Landing Ship Tank 523 in the midst of a violent squall in the English Channel. The ship was packed with men and supplies, reinforcements for the troops who had stormed the beach two weeks before on D-Day.
Merriot was most likely lining up for chow when an explosion ripped through the ship, tossing it in the air and killing nearly half the men on board. The vessel had hit an enemy mine off the coast of Normandy.
As he heard the story, Carlson could picture the fear. He had narrowly escaped a similar fate off the coast of Vietnam.
On December 19, 1972, Carlson was manning radar on the USS Goldsborough on a night patrol. In a flash, an enemy shell blew a hole in the ship, igniting fires and killing two of Carlson’s friends. He had been lucky to survive.
“This young man ... joined the military to serve his country. I joined the military to serve my country. We both saw combat. I came home. He didn’t.”
Returning the medal to Oklahoma will bring closure, Carlson said. “I helped him find his way home.”
http://i.imgur.com/mfyNDqK.jpg
Matt Carlson spotted the medal in a heap of costume jewelry at a Glendale flea market.
A history buff and Vietnam War veteran, he recognized it immediately as a Purple Heart. The medal, which is given to service members wounded or killed in combat, was gold-colored with a purple ribbon. A soldier’s name was engraved on the back.
The merchant was asking $40.
Carlson, 59, had visited the market last February in search of vintage coins and military paraphernalia. But when he saw the Purple Heart, he thought of his uncle, who had earned three in World War II, and he knew it would be worth far more to its rightful owner than to any collector.
“If I lost something like that, I would want my family to have it back,” he said last week as he recounted the incident. “It’s something that can never be replaced.”
He pulled out his wallet and vowed to find where it belonged.
Little did Carlson know it would be a nine-month search that would span four states and involve dozens of volunteers and a U.S. congressman. It would also uncover the story of a young World War II private that touched Carlson more deeply than he could have imagined.
Carlson didn’t know if the medal’s recipient was alive. He didn’t know in which war it had been earned. The medal gave no indication.
But Carlson had the name of the soldier, Clarence M. Merriott, etched on the back. And it came with two letters that would aid in his search.
One was written by a commanding officer to Merriott’s father, informing him of the award. It was undated but addressed to Stilwell, Okla.
The other letter, dated April 21, 1944, was from Merriott to his family. It began:
U.S. Army
April 21, 1944
Dearest Mother, Dad + Sis,
Truly – hope you all are well! For myself I am just fine. I sure hope I get some mail tonight, as I haven’t got any from you in two days. ...
I am getting caught up with my writing but still have 8 more letters to write.
Carlson enlisted his computer-savvy son to search online.
They found a veterans organization dedicated to preserving the memory of a World War II battalion, the Army’s 300th Combat Engineers. The unit had drawn soldiers mostly from Texas, Arkansas, Louisiana and Oklahoma.
The battalion’s mission of building roads and bridges to advance the front lines put its men in the middle of some of the most brutal fighting in the European theater, from D-Day to the Battle of the Bulge.
In June 1944, two months after Merriott sent his letter, the unit suffered one of its deadliest days. More than 300 men were on their way to Normandy in the wake of the D-Day landing. It didn’t go as planned.
Merriott was among those killed in action.
***
Brad Peters, a volunteer with the 300th Combat Engineers group, received an e-mail from Carlson in May. He couldn’t believe what he read: A Purple Heart that might belong to a member of the battalion had been rescued from an Arizona flea market.
Peters, who lives in Massachusetts, promised to look for Merriott’s family. Perhaps a reunion of battalion veterans in Texas in a few months would provide a lead.
“It was a complete surprise,” said Peters, who has collected hundreds of photographs and stories from the battalion’s few remaining members. “We said we’d be willing to help any way we could.”
One veteran, Kenneth “Cowboy” Morris, was from a town near Stilwell. His grandson had just been elected to Congress from Oklahoma. The pair said they would help, too.
The local history museum also pitched in. Wanda Elliott, of the Adair County Historical and Genealogical Association, paged through census records, yellowing newspaper articles and a homemade scrapbook where she found a picture of Merriott.
His name was included on a town memorial honoring those who died in World War II.
For Carlson, Merriott’s letter to his family had stiffened his resolve to find the medal’s home as the months passed. It was brief, but the soldier’s love of family and life was evident.
Say, Mother did you ever get the cabinet made? I guess Dad has all of his corn planted by now. Boy I sure wish I was there to get some of that good warm spring sunshine. Well I must close for tonight.
Always your loving son
Clarence
***
Elliott eventually located a few distant relatives.
As far as anyone could tell, the medal had been lost during a family member’s move. How it ended up at a flea market in Arizona was a mystery.
The family asked that the medal and letters go to the town’s museum where they could be seen and appreciated by visitors.
Today, a ceremony will be held to mark the medal’s return to Merriott’s hometown.
“It shines a light back on this generation that we’re losing,” said U.S. Rep. Markwayne Mullin, whose grandfather “Cowboy” Morris served with Merriott and whose office helped plan the Veterans Day ceremony for the medal. “You understand the heritage ... and the sacrifice for (us) to be here today.”
The medal will be presented at a special program at Stilwell High School. Eleven living Purple Heart recipients will attend.
“This has become a big event that everyone is participating in,” Mullin said.
Carlson left Glendale last week to drive the 1,200 miles to attend the event.
***
The search and event have taken on a more personal connection for Carlson.
As he learned how Merriott died, and saw his photo for the first time last week, he felt an eerie kinship with the soldier from an earlier generation.
“Before, it was just a medal that I wanted to get returned to the right people,” Carlson said. “But now it’s more.”
On June 19, 1944, Merriot was on Landing Ship Tank 523 in the midst of a violent squall in the English Channel. The ship was packed with men and supplies, reinforcements for the troops who had stormed the beach two weeks before on D-Day.
Merriot was most likely lining up for chow when an explosion ripped through the ship, tossing it in the air and killing nearly half the men on board. The vessel had hit an enemy mine off the coast of Normandy.
As he heard the story, Carlson could picture the fear. He had narrowly escaped a similar fate off the coast of Vietnam.
On December 19, 1972, Carlson was manning radar on the USS Goldsborough on a night patrol. In a flash, an enemy shell blew a hole in the ship, igniting fires and killing two of Carlson’s friends. He had been lucky to survive.
“This young man ... joined the military to serve his country. I joined the military to serve my country. We both saw combat. I came home. He didn’t.”
Returning the medal to Oklahoma will bring closure, Carlson said. “I helped him find his way home.”