History in our Hearts

How do I sum up a few days of history? We were allowed to be a part of history, and it entered our hearts.

I'm not sure how to start. Let me say that this week I have been loved. I have been included. And I have learned; learned about courage, compassion, and commitment.

On Tuesday, Mom and I both left home in the early hours of the morning, and by dinnertime, airplanes and shuttle buses had brought us to San Luis Obispo, California. We had traveled to attend the last reunion of the 86th Infantry Division, the "Blackhawks." This group of World War II veterans was gathering for the last time at their 25th reunion.

Unsure how we would be received, or how we would find those who might have a memory of Uncle Jack, we nervously walked into the lobby of the Embassy Suites Hotel. On the left was the hotel check-in desk, and on the right was a table surrounded by old people with a banner behind them: 86th Blackhawk Division Association. Eagerly, yet without trying to draw attention, I pointed them out to Mom as we made our way to the check-in counter. We decided to take our bags to our room and freshen up before we checked in with the Blackhawks.

We went up to our room on the top floor of this first class hotel. The clear glass elevator allowed us to watch the scene below as we ascended up to the fourth floor. Huddled around every table of the main floor, and standing in small clusters where there wasn't seating available, were World War II veterans. And their wives. And a few of their kids. Talking, laughing, hugging, snapping pictures, and wearing their colors: red and black.

We dropped our bags in our luxurious suite, freshened up and changed into our "Uncle Jack" shirts Mom had made up for this occasion. On the front: an 8x10 version of Uncle Jack's military photo, and the words: Lt. John F. Seaton, Blackhawks 86th Div., 342nd "I" Co. WWII. They were striking shirts, and when we first put them on, we both glanced at each other and nearly cried. We should have just cried, as it would have been the first of many tears we shed during these brief three days. Something about the idea of wearing these shirts and walking into a group of Jack's comrades made us a bit nervous--what reaction would we get? Would they remember him? Would they wonder why we were here? But, this was the moment we'd been waiting for. So we went downstairs.

Nothing could have prepared me for the next 30 hours. The first married couple we encountered were John Jouriles and his wife, Carolyn. John was a short, smiling man who walked up to us with a question: "And who is this good looking man on your shirt?" When I replied that it was my Mom's Uncle, John Seaton, who died three weeks before the end of World War II, John started to cry. "Oh, my," he said, "where was he killed?" I told him Jack was killed during the battle in Luedenscheid, in the Ruhr Pocket. John's eyes still moist, he said "Oh, I remember Luedenscheid. It was awful. That was a terrible battle." We chatted for a few minutes, and hugged before we walked away to check in with the Blackhawks. By now the desk was closed for dinner time, and so we just started looking around for people to talk to. Someone mentioned a hospitality room where people had put out their photos and memories, and a bulletin board allowed for leaving messages about searching for specific people.

I certainly can't remember the individual conversations. There were so many, and each was powerful and emotional. Some were informational; some were funny. Yet all gave us tremendous insight into this great generation.
As we were waiting to eat dinner and for the reception table to re-open, we started mingling with the Division members, smiling at them and getting genuine smiles in return. Many asked about the t-shirts. Most were touched by Jack's sacrifice. As we were introducing ourselves to people, Ted found us and walked up. We embraced, and told him how excited we were to be there. What a miracle, what a dream come true. He introduced us to many people, and whenever he mentioned the fact that Jack was the Lieutenant who "took his place" he would tear up. We eventually met his wife, Mary, and also the President of the association, Dick Behrends. Dick was a kind man with smiling eyes, and expressed his joy that we could come.

[Me, Ted and Mom]

We went to dinner at the hotel restaurant, and asked a couple seated near us if we could join them. Mr. and Mrs. Twentey from Maryland were a delight to sit with. He was a teenager when he joined the army, and married his wife after having returned for a few years. They were eager to hear about Jack and tell their own stories. Because Mrs. Twentey was a preteen during the war, she remembered different things; like when the principal would come and pull a classmate out of class, it was understood by the remaining classmates that this friend had lost a family member in the war. He talked about how cold it was at “Camp Gold” – the place where they first stayed upon arrival in France. Their tents were so cold (having only thin wool blankets, not sleeping bags) that they would put a pile of sand in the middle of the tent, pour oil over it and light it. They were afraid they might freeze to death.

After dinner we spent the evening walking from conversation to conversation. We had promised John Jouriles that we would bring Jack's scrapbook and our other items to the hospitality room. It took us quite a while to get there! We were continually asked about our shirts, which always sparked a long conversation.

[Mom with Bob Rasmus]

One of the next men we talked to was Bob Rasmus. Bob remembered Luedenscheid as well, though he wasn't in company "I"--he was in company "L". He remembered Jack's name from the casualty list, and told us how companies I, K, L and M worked together, so he had seen Jack but didn't know him. He told us about Luedenscheid, and how the battle was fierce. He said as they came into town, they saw a large military hospital, and ambulances going to and fro. At first they thought that it might be a trick--that the Nazis were secretly transporting weapons under the guise of a medical vehicle. He also told us that he had felt hopeful at Luedenscheid, as for the first time he had seen the silver stars on a uniform--a General. He told us how usually Generals are not near the front line. But, he said, it turned out to be not such a hopeful day for Jack. The "Taskforce Pope", as they were called while General Pope was in command, were to advance towards Luedenscheid and clear the way for the troops to take over the city. It was here Jack, in typical fashion for an infantryman Lieutenant, was leading his men into battle when he was hit by a mortar shell and killed.

While we were talking to Bob, Frank Potter [see his picture at the end of this post] walked up. He interrupted us and said "Seaton--I knew Seaton. He traded places with Ted Goodwin. Ted Goodwin used to be a Lt in Co I, and was moved and Seaton took his place. Ted still rues the day, as he feels he caused Seaton's death." Wow, we had come hoping to find someone who remembered Jack, and here he was. He said he remembered Luedenscheid “like it was yesterday”. Horrible battle, dense forests, awful memories. He said that in moving into Luedenscheid they were faced with the “double jeapordy” mortars – the Germans would fire mortars into the dense trees that surrounded the Americans, shattering the huge trees, which would fall down to the ground and onto the men, or else they would fire the mortars into the men. Also, he said that they had many anti-aircraft guns that they would turn down parallel to the ground and shoot into the infantry. Frank said that all of the lieutenants were “gold” men – he would observe them, they showed integrity, were great leaders; they always were making sure that their men had cover, which meant that they were often not under cover. He said that the lieutenants had the most dangerous job in the Army, as they went out if front to lead their infantry troups. Frank also said that he went on to Korea, where he became a lieutenant and he tried to emulate the lieutenants he had so carefully observed in Europe.

While we were talking to Bob and Frank, others were looking over our book with pictures in it. Many wrote down the title and ISBN number, hoping to find a copy themselves. We felt the envy of the division upon us. We stayed up until 10:30 pm talking to the veterans and their wives, true heroes as well. We had thought the old people would be going to bed by 9 pm, but we ended up having to excuse ourselves from them!

The next morning we got up fairly early, at least on time. We headed out the door of our suite and immediately could hear the hub-bub coming from the eating area below the balconies above the atrium. The Blackhawks were up and visiting! We felt as if we couldn't keep up with them. There were hardly any places to sit and eat breakfast, and we wanted to talk to people anyway. So we took the opportunity to ask a gentleman if we could join him. He said he was just leaving, and we asked him to stay. He did—Cason had lost his wife 5 years prior and was sad not to have her with him. He told us how his wife was his most intimate friend; how beautiful and precious she was, and how much he missed her. He said that after his dear wife, no one else has ever understood him like these fellow soldiers do. It would be hard not to see them again. Cason's older brother was also in WWII, but was taken prisoner by the Germans for one year. He lost 40 pounds, and never was given the letters his mother wrote to him every day. Cason said that his brother never fully recovered, and died as a young man in the 60's.[Cason signing our "Blackhawks" books]

As we were talking to Cason, Ted came downstairs and sat with us. We talked for about 1 1/2 hours. Ted and Cason didn't know each other, but talked with ease about their common backgrounds: war and life in the 40s. We were struck that Ted spent so much time with us, as he had many friends who were milling around.

[at the memorial with the gentleman who sat with us on the bus...forgot his name]

We got ready to go to Camp San Luis Obispo where the memorial would be held. The association had arranged to have 4 tour buses take all of us to Camp Luis Obispo, where the memorial was in place and the ceremony would be starting at 1:30 pm. They also provided boxed lunches to take along and eat at the camp at picnic tables set up under tents. This was Wednesday. It was a hot day. As we drove up to the camp, we saw a banner on the outer gate: "Welcome Back Blackhawks!" There were soldiers everywhere, helping old people get out of buses, showing them where to sit, offering sunscreen, passing out water bottles, etc... On the hill across from the gate was an eagle constructed by colored rocks, and below it was inscribed: "86 ID" for "86th Infantry Division." One of the soldiers told us that over the many years the camp has existed, whenever a new division would arrive, some of the soldiers would steal up the hill and change the "title" under the eagle. So to welcome the 86th Division in their own way, the soldiers currently training at Camp Luis Obispo arranged the rocks to welcome this veteran division.

[eagle out of rocks, "86 ID"]

In the median of the main entrance after the gate, they had assembled a small "museum" of Blackhawk memorabilia: the Browning rifle the WWII G.I.s carried (complete with bayonet); field rations (packaged meals); a uniform and 2 jeeps, and many photos. Each soldier carried about 100 lbs of equipment, and one soldier from each platoon carried not only his own rifle but the heavy submachine gun complete with tripod.

[holding the rifle carried by the WWII infantry veterans--very heavy!]

[Dinner rations]

There were ATVs with soldiers available to drive us around the camp and take us to the remaining "tar hut"--the only original hut left which these soldiers called home. It was a framed hut with walls made of tar paper – each hut housed 5 men.

The day was beautiful--a bit warm, but beautiful. California government representatives and decorated military officials were present and part of the ceremony. A military band played patriotic songs, and the flags were marched into the memorial circle.

The most meaningful singing of "The Star Spangled Banner" of my life--singing along with men who risked their lives for our freedom, and their wives, who endured heartache at home.

[waiting crowd of veterans]

[Ted gives his speech]

Several Blackhawk board members spoke, including ‘our own’ Ted, and the memorial was revealed and dedicated. It is a bronze statue of a World War II infantry soldier on patrol--rifle in hand and finger on the trigger. Handsome, stirring, and just plain makes you proud to be part of such a thing. I'm not sure there was a dry eye around when the whole thing was over.

The flags were marched out (retired) and the soldiers saluted. Mom made a pencil rub of Uncle Jack’s name (John F. Seaton – 2 Lt) that was on the list of those Killed in Action – it turns out that Jack’s company – company “I”, had suffered the most losses. One of the veterans we talked to said that it was sort of the “luck of the draw”. A company would go into battle, one would come back; one would go on one side, another on the other side. He was from company “L”; and said that his company hardly had any casualties, but that Company “I” was hit hard.[making a pencil rubbing of Jack's name]

[Killed in Action 86th Division]
the plaques of the memorial: unit divisions and history

After the ceremony, everyone wanted their picture taken in front of the statue. A boy scout troop had come to witness the ceremony, and had their pictures taken with some veterans. We finally got our turn (not about to push our way in--very touching to watch these men gaze at the memorial to their sacrifice). Finally, we piled back into the buses and headed home. Weather-worn, emotional, and full of gratitude, we headed back to the hotel. Just in time to get ready for the final banquet.

We were late getting to the banquet, and worried about finding a seat. Mom went back to the room for a minute, and I was to look for some seats. Walking towards the ballroom, I saw Debbie, one of the veteran's daughters waving her arm and saying "I've been looking for you!" I turned around to see who she was talking to...then quickly realized she was gesturing to me! She said that she'd been looking for Mom and me as Ted had saved us seats at his table! I was totally humbled. We really wanted to give him space to be with his friends, especially on this, their last event and final evening together.

Mom found us, and we went into the ballroom, where Ted was looking for us. He asked if he could sit between us, as Mary was sitting with a friend she hadn't reconnected with yet. We were so touched by his gracious inclusion of us into his "inner friends circle." The atmosphere was elegant, the food was fantastic, and the conversation was casual and easy. During the evening, Ted was given an award “The Blackhawk Warrior Award” – a bronze statue of the bust of the Indian for whom the troops were named -- for his dedication to the association -- he was surprised and obviously it was well-deserved.

At the close of the evening, a dance group performed to music from the 40's and 50's. It was fun, and delightful to watch the older generation sing along and smile. My favorite moment was when, at the beginning of an Ella Fitzgerald song, a gentleman at our table, Minor, leaned over towards Ted and, with a grin and a sparkle in his eye, said, "Hey Ted! Remember when that cute Red Cross girl stood up and sang this song in Mendenau?" (Philippines) So cute! :)

[Minor and his wife Rosemary, and daugther]

At the end of the banquet, we said our goodbyes and left our new friends to say their painful goodbyes without new friends watching. Or maybe I just wanted to go because I couldn't bear to watch them say goodbye.

[Frank Potter and John Jouriles saying goodbye]

I am still struck by the love I felt by these people, and by their courage--not only in the past, but in the present, and they courageously face the future. We pray many of them know their Savior, and will therefore be reunited again.