No Better Place to Die: Lost Among The Many Legends of D-Day – The Battle for the Bridge at La Fiere – by Chris Gibbons

(Originally published in the Philadelphia Inquirer)

The little bridge sits in a quiet, bucolic area of western France, about 2 miles west of the town of Ste. Mere-Eglise. It spans the scenic Merderet River, and thousands of tourists flock to the area every year because of its rich history and beautiful scenery.   Right next to the bridge is the charming “a la Bataille de La Fiere Bed and Breakfast”, which was built in 1180 and originally used as a grain mill by Viking settlers.  For those looking for a quiet vacation in a beautiful, historic setting, this area is the perfect destination. But when the tourists are told the story of what happened on this little bridge over 70 years ago, and how significant that event was in WW II history, many are stunned.  Those from the U.S. will often beam with pride or are moved to tears.

Although it is described by renowned military historian S.L.A. Marshall as “the bloodiest small unit struggle in the history of American arms”, the heroic saga of the battle for the bridge at La Fiere from June 6 to June 9 in 1944 has now become lost among the numerous legendary stories of D-Day.  But it was at this bridge that a small group of lightly armed U.S. 82nd Airborne paratroopers waged one of fiercest fights in the annals of U.S. military history, and in doing so, likely saved the lives of thousands of U.S. soldiers who landed at Utah beach on D-Day.  The bridge was one of only two in the Utah beach landing area that would enable German armor to cross the river.  If the Germans could get their tanks and infantry to the beach, they could wipe out the U.S. forces on Utah beach.  The 82nd was given the difficult task of seizing and holding the bridge.

Led by Lieutenant John Dolan, the paratroopers assaulted and eventually took control of the bridge in the late morning hours of D-Day.  They set mines and pulled a disabled truck onto the bridge to help block the inevitable German counterattacks.  The fields surrounding the causeway (raised road) that led to the bridge had been flooded by the Germans prior to the invasion, and the men could see the parachutes and backpacks of dozens of drowned paratroopers floating in the water.  The sight likely served as a reminder to them of what was at stake, stiffening their resolve.

The Germans still controlled the high ground of the western causeway leading to the bridge, and late in the afternoon of June 6, they sent three tanks, followed by infantry, rumbling across in their first attempt to seize it.  Private Lenold Peterson stood with his bazooka, bravely exposing himself to the enemy machine gun fire.  He took out the two lead tanks, and forced the third to retreat back with the German infantry.

The following morning, the Germans launched an even heavier assault against the paratroopers.  The brutal, close-quarters combat that followed reduced Dolan’s force to only 14 men, but the paratroopers held.   The fighting was so bloody, that the Germans asked for a truce so that they could retrieve their wounded.  When Dolan’s men asked if they should fall back, he told them that they were staying. “I don’t know a better place to die”, he said, and his words lifted the morale of the decimated platoon.

On June 8, Dolan’s men were finally reinforced by the 507th Paratroop Infantry Regiment. U.S. tanks from the 4th Infantry Division had also arrived but couldn’t cross the bridge until the Germans had been cleared from the western end.  The paratroopers attacked across the bridge and down the causeway in a suicidal frontal assault.  The first wave of men was cut down, and those following behind dropped to the ground, paralyzed with fear.  Lieutenant Bruce Hooker, shot in both legs, turned to his men as he lay on the ground and tried to urge them on.  “Come on…get up!”, he shouted.  As the dead and wounded piled up, the chaos on the bridge mounted.

Just when the battle seemed lost, a group of some 90 men led by Captain R.D. Rae charged across the bridge.  Again, many were cut down, but this time, many more kept moving forward. They ran down the causeway and started taking out the enemy positions.  The tank commanders then seized the opportunity and streamed across the bridge, destroying the remaining German opposition.  The Americans had finally secured the bridge, but at a terrible cost: 60 paratroopers were dead and 529 wounded.

Tom Hanks is Executive Producer for a film project titled “No Better Place to Die”.  It is being written and directed by actor and former Marine, Dale Dye. Although the film project has faced a number of hurdles, Dye still hopes that it will soon resume full production and finally reveal to the general public the gallant story of the U.S. paratroopers at the La Fiere Bridge.

Take a moment today to remember the American paratroopers who courageously decided during a pivotal battle that began on D-Day that there was no better place to die than the bridge at La Fiere.

Echoes of Heroes by Chris Gibbons

“The whine of the steel and the roar of the guns,

And the tolling of the bell and the cries of the lame,

And the echoes of heroes roll down through the ages to remind us again.”

(From the song “Echoes of Heroes” by Gordon Lightfoot)

The letter addressed to Mrs. Ellen Breen in Philadelphia arrived in early December of 1918, but it was very different than most of the letters the postmen had been delivering that bore U.S. Army postmarks.  The Great War in Europe had just ended a few weeks prior, and letters from American soldiers who were still overseas had been arriving in the U.S. by the thousands.  The men were sending Christmas wishes to their families which brought great relief and comfort to their loved ones.  Although they wouldn’t be home for Christmas, these soldiers were alive and the great anxiety that their families had endured during the war had finally subsided.

Unfortunately, for many other families this was a time of great sorrow as they continued to mourn the recent loss of a loved one in that war, and Christmas for them would never be the same again.  So, when this letter arrived at the home of Mrs. Ellen Breen, she knew it couldn’t be from her son, Bernard.  He was a sergeant in Company A of the 28th Division’s 108th Machine Gun Battalion, and Mrs. Breen had already been notified that he was killed in France on September 27, 1918 at the start of the great Meuse-Argonne Offensive.

She opened the letter and saw that it was from Captain Ralph C. Crow, her son Bernard’s commanding officer, and was dated November 30, 1918.  It was written in response to a letter she had written to the Army asking for more information regarding her son’s death.  It read in part:

“Dear Madam:-

               Your letter of the 27th reached me today, in reply I will say that it is with a feeling of sorrow that I answer your letter.

               On September the 20th, my Company took over a position from the French in the Argonne Forest. Your son Sergeant Bernard F. Breen was in command of two guns in a very responsible position nearest the enemy.  Five days later the drive in the Argonne Forest started.  I was ordered to send two guns to report to a Battalion when the fight started.  I selected Sergeant Bernard F. Breen and his gun crews for the reason that I considered him the best man in my Company…On the morning of Sept. 28th, one of the men who had been with Sergeant Breen reported to me that the section had been all shot up, that Sergeant Breen and another man had been killed, and that most of the men had been wounded…I sent a runner to that section of the field to see if he could locate the bodies, he returned later with the information that the bodies had been buried…I later got a chance to talk to Father Wolf (sic) and he told me himself that he had visited the grave of Sergeant Breen, and had performed the burial service.

               Sergeant Bernard F. Breen was killed instantly by the bursting of a shell on a road leading from Monyblainville (sic) to Varennes, he was leading his section when it occurred, I was informed.

               In conclusion I will say that I consider Sergeant Breen the best man in my Company, I had recommended him for a commission a short time before his death, he frequently spoke to me about his mother, and a brother who is a Captain in France.  The men of my Company felt that they had lost a true comrade when he was killed.  As I said in the beginning of this letter, it is with sorrow that I write this, as I had learned to love Sergeant Breen for the many brave deeds he had done on the field of battle.”

My subsequent search of World War I records has revealed that the “Father Wolf” referenced in Crow’s letter was the highly decorated 28th Division Reverend Lieutenant Joseph L. N. Wolfe.  In a remarkable yet solemn coincidence, on September 27th, 1918, during the great Battle of the Meuse-Argonne, Joseph Wolfe from Philadelphia’s Roman Catholic High School Class of 1899 performed the burial service at the battlefield grave of Bernard Breen from Roman’s Class of 1902.

As I read Captain Crow’s letter, I wondered if it had brought any comfort to Ellen Breen to learn that her son was not only loved and respected by the men of his battalion, but that a fellow alumnus from Roman Catholic High School, a school whose alumni motto is ‘brothers for life’, had visited his grave.  Was the anguish of her sorrow assuaged in knowing that, although Bernard died so far from home, one of his brothers was there and he wasn’t alone?

____________________________________

On May 24th, I received an e-mail from Bob Wagner, the former football coach of Roman Catholic High School and a graduate from the Class of 1963.  He has been an enthusiastic supporter of my ongoing search for the alumni of Roman Catholic High School who gave their lives in World War I, and his e-mail informed me that he had just arrived home from a trip to France where he had visited the gravesites of six Roman alumni who had given their lives in World War I.  One of those gravesites was that of Bernard Breen in the Meuse-Argonne American Cemetery.  Bob also found the exact spot along the road where Breen and his gunnery mate were killed, and he wrote: “It was, for sure, a very moving and surreal experience being at the graves of our brothers from RCHS who gave the ultimate gift for their country.”

I sent the photo that Bob took at Bernard Breen’s gravesite to Carol Breen, the great niece of Bernard.  She said in response: “It’s a blessing to know that someone cares to go visit the grave of a fallen soldier like this.  Even though I never met him, we have shared DNA.  Please express my gratitude to those who went.  I’m very happy Bernard wasn’t forgotten.”

It is my sincere hope that on this Memorial Day weekend Carol and the Breen family took some small measure of comfort in knowing that a fellow alumnus from Roman Catholic High School had visited the spot where Bernard had fallen and then prayed at his grave.  Although nearly 105 years had passed since Bernard Breen had been laid to rest, a brother was with him once again, and he wasn’t alone.

(Chris Gibbons is a Philadelphia writer.  His book, “Soldiers, Space, and Stories of Life”, a compilation of 78 of his essays, is available at Amazon)

Roman Catholic High School: Veterans Day Remembrance – 2022

Edward A. Duff – Class of 1903

Edward A. Duff hailed from St. Francis Xavier parish and graduated from Roman in 1903.

After graduating from Roman, he was ordained a priest and later served in Europe as a Naval Chaplain during World War I aboard the USS Nevada.  He was also aboard the U.S.S. Olympia during its famous voyage from France to the United States in 1921 to deliver the body of the Unknown Soldier.   Duff was also decorated in 1920 by the king of Italy with the Chevalier of the Crown of Italy for his service aboard the Italian battleship Puglia in the Adriatic, and was promoted to captain in 1925.  In 1937 he was named Chief of the Navy Chaplain Corps, the first Catholic to hold that position.  His lectures on the Unknown Soldier were estimated to have been heard by over 300,000 people.  Unfortunately, a heart ailment forced his early retirement and he died in Philadelphia at the age of 58 in 1943.

John R. Corkery – Class of 1936

John R. Corkery hailed from St. Anne’s parish and following graduation from Roman in 1936, he served in the U.S. Army during World War 2. 

During the Battle of Rapido River in 1944, Corkery courageously battled under furious artillery, mortar, and machine gun fire for more than 10 hours, to establish position so he could maintain constant communications with his battalion. Over 1,300 U.S. soldiers would lose their lives in the battle with more than 600 captured.  Corkery was later wounded in Italy.  For his actions in battle he was awarded 2 Bronze Stars, an Oak Leaf Cluster, and a Purple Heart.

Following the war, Corkery would go on to raise a family of 11 children with a highly successful career with the VA.  He also established himself as a great CYO basketball coach with St. Anne Parish in Port Richmond, and was founder of what became the Port Richmond Boys Club by starting their football program.  He died at the young age of 52, and is beloved by a generation of boys in the neighborhood who to this day speak with love and reverence for him.

Bernard Donahue – Class of 1941

Bernard Donahue grew up on Park Avenue in North Philadelphia, hailing from St. Malachy parish.  He graduated from Roman in 1941.

After high school, Bernard worked at John Wanamaker’s before enlisting in the Army as an Aviation Cadet.  Ultimately, he earned his wings as a B-17 pilot and flew 26 combat missions over Germany and Austria.  Among other honors, then 1st Lieutenant Donahue was awarded the Distinguish Flying Cross for returning his crippled bomber from a raid over Berlin. 

In 1944, he married Rosemary Kirwan, a Hallahan graduate.  He returned to Rosemary, Philadelphia and Wanamaker’s after the war.  Bernard and Rosemary had 7 children, including an Air Force Colonel and a Navy Chief Petty Officer.  Bernard later became vice president of a men’s’ clothing retailer here in Philadelphia. He died at age 54 from complications from diabetes.  He was buried with full military honors in Holy Cross Cemetery in Yeadon.

Francis J. E. Ampthor – Class of 1942

Francis Ampthor hailed from St. Mary of the Assumption parish in Manayunk and while at Roman he was a member of 1942 city championship crew team, as well as the school band and Cahillite staff.  He attended St. Joseph’s College for one year, then enlisted in the U.S. Navy during World War 2.

He served on the battleship U.S.S. Missouri in the Gunnery Department, witnessing the surrender of Japan in Tokyo Bay on September 2, 1945.  He received the Victory Medal, the American Theater Ribbon and the Asiatic-Pacific Theater Ribbon with 2 Stars. After the war, he was part of the U.S.S. Missouri’s goodwill tour of the Mediterranean Sea region.

Following the war Ampthor was a chemical engineer at Rohm & Haas for nearly 44 years, helping farmers to formulate herbicides and pesticides, and later helping to develop fiberglass panels for Ford and Chevrolet cars.  For many years, he taught Organic Chemistry Lab at night at St. Joseph’s University, was active in Cub Scouts and Boy Scouts, and in retirement drove the Roxborough Hospital patient shuttle and volunteered at St. Bridget’s Church in East Falls.  He died in 1993.

Charles Fuller – Class of 1956

Charles Fuller hailed from North Philadelphia and graduated from Roman in 1956.  Following Roman, he then studied for two years at Villanova University.

Fuller joined the U.S. Army in 1959 and served for 3 years overseas in Japan and South Korea.

He later graduated from LaSalle University and was a co-founder of the Afro-American Arts Theater in Philadelphia.  Fuller became a noted playwright and in 1982 he won the Pulitzer Prize for drama for “A Soldier’s Play” that centered on the murder of a Black Army sergeant and the search for the culprit.  The play would later make it to Broadway and win two Tony Awards.  The movie version received three Oscar nominations.  He was a member of the Writers Guild of America and wrote numerous short fiction and screenplays, as well as worked as a movie producer.

In 2015, Fuller was named one of Roman Catholic High School’s 125 Men of Distinction.  He died on October 3, 2022.

Al Zimmerman – Class of 1965

Al Zimmerman graduated from Roman in 1965, hailing from St. Bridget’s parish.  Following graduation, he joined the U.S. Army in 1966 and was selected to attend Officer Candidate School.

During the Vietnam War, Zimmerman served as a Helicopter Pilot, Platoon Leader, and Operations Officer with the 1st Air Cavalry Division.  In 1969, during an operation to rescue wounded U.S. soldiers, Zimmerman’s Cobra helicopter was hit by enemy fire and forced down.  He was later picked up by another helicopter crew, where Zimmerman manned a gun and placed suppressive fire on the enemy and called in air strikes against the enemy positions.  The action resulted in the decimation of a large enemy unit, and Zimmerman was awarded the Silver Star for his actions.  His other awards include: four awards of the Distinguished Flying Cross for heroism, the Bronze Star, the Purple Heart, and 27 Air Medals.  Zimmerman is believed to be one of the most decorated alumni in Roman’s history and he was recently inducted into the U.S. Army Ranger Hall of Fame.

Edward Seeburger – Class of 1940

Edward Seeburger was born in Philadelphia and was a member of Our Lady of Mercy parish.  He graduated from Roman in 1940.  Following graduation, he immediately enlisted in the Marines and fought in the Pacific during World War II. 

Seeburger also served as a First Lieutenant in the 1st Marine Division during the Korean War.  During the Battle of the Chosin Reservoir, in temperatures that plummeted to minus 20 degrees, Seeburger was leading the remains of his Unit as they desperately fought their way south.  Of the 220 Marines originally in his Company, only about 20 were still fit to fight.  Out of seven officers, only Seeburger remained.  His unit was ambushed by the enemy and, although bleeding profusely from a bullet wound in his leg, Seeburger was able to direct his tank gunners as to where to fire at the enemy positions which wiped out the enemy and enabled his convoy to escape.  For his selfless act of courage during the battle, Seeburger was awarded the prestigious Navy Cross, just one grade below the Congressional Medal of Honor. 

Following the war, Seeburger retired from the Marines and returned to Philadelphia, where he and his wife, Helen, raised a daughter, Dolores.  Seeburger worked as a park police officer and then as an engraver for 32 years at Becks Engraving Co.  He died in 2007 at the age of 85.

The Search for Roman Catholic High School’s Alumni of World War I 

By Chris Gibbons
Special to the Doughboy Dispatch newsletter – October, 2021

It was December of 2019 when I first came upon the letter from 28th Division Captain Ralph C. Crow to Mrs. Ellen Breen of Philadelphia. Like so many of the letters that I’ve discovered during my now 10-year search for the alumni of Roman Catholic High School who gave their lives in World War I, it was heartbreaking. However, this letter was different, and I was astonished as I read it for it revealed a surprising and unexpected connection related to my search.

Captain Ralph C. Crow’s letter to Mrs. Ellen Breen

Ellen Breen’s son, Bernard, was a sergeant in Crow’s Company A – 108th Machine Gun Battalion in the opening days of the great Meuse-Argonne Offensive, the largest and deadliest battle ever fought by American soldiers.  The letter read in part: “…I was ordered to send two guns to report to a Batallion (sic) when the fight started, I selected Sergeant Bernard F. Breen, and his gun crew for the reason that I considered him the best man in my Company…On the morning of September 28th, one of the men who had been with Sergeant Breen reported to me that the section had all been shot up, that Sergeant Breen and another man had been killed…”

The letter went on to state that one of the soldiers informed Captain Crow that they searched for, and eventually found, a “Father Wolf (sic)” to perform Breen’s burial service.   A subsequent search of World War I records indicates that the only chaplain that could have been was the highly decorated 28th Division Lieutenant Reverend Joseph L. N. Wolfe.  Crowe wrote: “I later got a chance to talk to Father Wolf (sic) and he told me himself that he had visited the grave of Sergeant Breen, and had performed the burial service…the men of my Company felt that they had lost a true Comrade when he was killed, as I said in the beginning of this letter it is with sorrow that I write this, as I had learned to love Sergeant Breen for the many brave deeds he (had) done on the field of battle.”

On September 27th, 1918, during the great Battle of the Meuse-Argonne, Joseph Wolfe from Roman Catholic High School’s Class of 1899 performed the burial service of Bernard Breen from Roman’s Class of 1902.  I couldn’t help but wonder if they had known each other.

It was another remarkable moment of discovery for me, one of many I’ve had over these last several years.  It was also another reminder that what I had initially and naively assumed would be a relatively straightforward search for names had instead become an incredible revelation of stories.

                                                            ____________________________

Philadelphia’s Roman Catholic High School – circa 1900

“I resolved to find what remained of Company D for (my grandfather), and for (his fellow soldiers), and for myself, as well, and complete a story begun on a hot July day so long ago, when young men raced across open fields toward machine guns and disappeared into history.” (From “The Remains of Company D – A Story of the Great War” by James Carl Nelson)

As an avid military history buff, I had always been intrigued by World War I.  When I was just 12 years old, I worked on Saturdays at a local Gun Club as a ‘trap-boy’ – putting the clay pigeons on the machine that would fling them out of the trap-bunker.  There was an old man who also worked there that everyone called “Gunner”.  I never knew his real name, but was told that he was a veteran of World War I.   I remember that Gunner was missing the tops of a few of his fingers after the first knuckle and often wondered if it was an injury sustained in the war.  Whenever he clutched his ever-present lit cigar with those finger-stubs, I wanted to ask him what happened, but never did.  I now wish that I had.  Additionally, my father, a Korean War veteran, occasionally recounted particularly disturbing memories from his childhood of disabled Great War veterans begging for money on the streets of Philadelphia during the Great Depression. 

In the late 1990’s, my then 84-year-old next-door neighbor, Murray, fascinated me with his childhood recollections of attending the May 1919 parade held in Philadelphia for the returning 28th Division soldiers. 

Consequently, when my freelance writing career began in 2004 many of my initial published essays focused on war veterans, and several chronicled the exploits of the doughboys of the Great War.  However, it was while reading James Carl Nelson’s The Remains of Company D – A Story of the Great War in 2011, particularly the passage above, that I committed myself to finding the names of the alumni of my high school alma mater who gave their lives in World War I. 

Philadelphia’s Roman Catholic High School is the oldest Diocesan high school in the United States, as well as the nation’s first free Catholic high school.  The school’s founder, Thomas E. Cahill, amassed a fortune from his coal and ice businesses, and when he died in 1878 he left the bulk of his estate for the establishment of the school as specified in his will.  His wife, Sophia, and the initial members of the Board of Trustees, a few of them Civil War veterans, saw to it that Cahill’s dream would come to fruition and, in September of 1890, “Catholic High”, as it was commonly known, first opened the doors of its grand Gothic building at Broad and Vine streets.  Students and alumni are known as “Cahillites” and the school has become a veritable institution in Philadelphia that continues to thrive to this day.

WW 2 Memorial Plaque at Roman Catholic High School

While walking the halls of Roman as a student in the late 1970’s, I would often glance up at the memorial plaques hanging on a first-floor wall that listed the names of the 121 Roman alumni who gave their lives in World War II, Korea, and Vietnam.  The largest of those plaques, by far, is the bronze World War II plaque listing 108 names.  It was dedicated by the Alumni Association in 1947, and the guest speaker at the dedication ceremony was Federal Judge James P. McGranery, a World War I veteran from Roman’s Class of 1913.  McGranery would later serve as a Pennsylvania Congressman and Attorney General under President Harry Truman.

I wondered why there was no commemorative plaque for the Roman alumni who gave their lives in World War I and simply assumed it was because no alumni had died in the Great War.  Surely, I reassured myself, that must be the case, otherwise a plaque would have been dedicated by our Alumni Association a long time ago.

In the years following my graduation in 1979, I tried to remain active in Roman’s Alumni Association and often attended the Association’s quarterly meetings held at the school.  Prior to these meetings, I would occasionally walk the storied halls of the old building and stop to glance up at the memorial plaques.  I once wrote down the names from the Korean War plaque for my father, a Korean War veteran and Roman graduate from the class of 1948.  He told me that there were some names missing.  “Believe me”, he said, “I know guys who were killed in Korea – Roman guys – and they’re not on there.”  He wrote down their names for me and because my Dad’s mind and memory were always razor-sharp, I wasn’t surprised to later confirm that he was right.  But this finding also puzzled me: Why were these names not listed on Roman’s Korean War memorial plaque?  Was it simply a matter of the school and the alumni not being informed by their next of kin?  Could the same thing have happened to the Roman alumni who gave their lives in World War I? 

As my interest and knowledge of the Great War deepened over the years, particularly its impact on the Philadelphia region, these visits to the school gradually amplified my suspicions that it was highly unlikely that Roman alumni did not die in the war.  Nelson’s book not only inspired me to confirm this but, if true, to also try and determine why the saga of Roman’s alumni of World War I had become lost and forgotten in the fog of time and the torn pages of history.

Philadelphia and the Great War

When the Great War started in August 1914, the United States was determined to remain neutral.  However, as the war progressed, public sentiment gradually favored England and France (the Allied Powers), particularly after a German submarine torpedoed and sank the British ocean liner Lusitania on May 7, 1915, killing 128 Americans, 27 of whom were Philadelphians.  During this period of neutrality, massive amounts of materials and goods supporting the Allied Powers war efforts were manufactured and shipped from the United States.  Philadelphia, then the 3rd largest city in the country with a population of just over 1.5 million people, was a major manufacturing, trade, and shipping hub, and the war was a boon for the region’s industries as chronicled by historian Jacob Downs in The Encyclopedia of Greater Philadelphia – World War I:

“War created a significant boost to the region’s industries, which produced clothing, ammunition, weapons, and war machines for the U.S. military and the Allies.  Even before U.S. entry into the conflict on April 6, 1917, the war helped to reinvigorate the region’s textile industry, which had been suffering in the early twentieth century.  For example, the Dobson’s Mills, located in Kensington, Manayunk, and Germantown, filled an order for 100,000 blankets to the French army in the first year of the war, while the Roxford Knitting Mill in Kensington filled a similar-sized order for underwear.  Area shipyards expanded, producing 328 ships during the war years.  The New York Shipbuilding Corporation in South Camden and the Pusey and Jones Shipbuilding Corporation in Gloucester City became major contributors to the war effort.  The war also vastly expanded the Camden Forge, a major supplier for the shipyards.  The Baldwin Locomotive Works manufactured artillery shells and other munitions.  Seventy-five percent of the military’s boots and shoes came from Philadelphia tanners.”

After the U.S. declared war on Germany on April 6, 1917, Philadelphia lived up to its new nickname – “Workshop of the World” – as it became one of the key cities crucial to sustaining America’s war efforts.  Philadelphia industries not only manufactured munitions, helmets, clothing, and various other supplies for the military, but hundreds of battleships, destroyers, and transport vessels were produced at the city’s Hog Island, Delaware River, and Naval Shipyards.  Together, these facilities formed the largest ship building complex in the world at the time.

Philadelphia Home Defense troops parade at Broad and Arch Streets, just three blocks from Roman Catholic High School (Photo from “Philadelphia in the World War”)

Thousands of men and women from the Philadelphia area enlisted in the armed services following the war declaration.  As noted in the 1922 publication, Philadelphia in the World War: 1914-1919 by the Philadelphia War History Committee, at least 90,000 Philadelphians joined some branch of the Army, Navy, or Marine Corps during the war, with approximately 60,000 men from the Philadelphia area serving overseas, primarily in the 28th and 79th Divisions.  Of the nearly 2,000 Philadelphians (some later estimates placed it closer to 3,000) who died while in service, approximately 1,000 were Catholics from the Philadelphia Archdiocese.

With this data serving as my background knowledge, and Nelson’s book providing inspiration, I was certain that my search would confirm my belief that Roman alumni did indeed give their lives in World War I.  I even thought it was likely that a dust-covered bronze memorial plaque with the names that I sought was probably sitting in some forgotten corner of the school’s Annex building where the records were stored.  But what I never anticipated were the remarkable stories this quest would uncover.

The Search and its Discoveries

In the autumn of 2011, with the enthusiastic assistance of Roman’s resident historian, Ed Keenan from the Class of 1954, the search for Roman’s so called “lost boys” of World War I began. 

Ed and I sorted through the school’s voluminous documents and discovered a passage from the Alumni section of the 1919 yearbook that read: “Some fourteen of our Alumni, former students of Catholic High, have made the supreme sacrifice and laid down their lives on the fields of France for their country.”  Although initially pleased that my suspicions had been confirmed, I was disappointed that the names of these fourteen former students were not listed.  Further examination of other yearbooks as well as old newspaper articles only revealed the names of three of these alumni – Edward Kelley from the Class of 1908, Raymond Hummel from the Class of 1911, and Louis McGinnis from the Class of 1913.  Additionally, in response to a 2012 Op-Ed piece that I wrote for the Philadelphia Inquirer regarding my search a reader informed me via e-mail that his uncle, Richard Currie from the Class of 1911, also died in the war.  Follow-up research confirmed this.

By mid-2012, eight months into the search, the first four names were known.

June 1919 RCHS Yearbook passage (left), Nov. 1917 Catholic Standard & Times (center), and Aug. 20, 1918 Philadelphia Public Ledger (right)
November 16, 1918 Philadelphia Public Ledger

Thanks to the efforts of Patrick Conville from Roman’s Class of 1976, spreadsheets listing the names of the Roman graduates from 1894 through 1918 were compiled and then compared to a list of Philadelphians and Pennsylvanians who died while in service during the war.  Any matches were then subsequently researched for verification which resulted in the confirmation of two more alumni: John Gerngross from the Class of 1909 and James Feely from the Class of 1906.  

Photo of John Gerngross and the Jan. 28, 1922 Philadelphia Public Ledger (left), Oct. 1918 Catholic Standard & Times (right)

While hopes for a quick resolution were momentarily buoyed by these finds, it was also in compiling these spreadsheets of Roman graduates that a major issue severely hampering the search became apparent.  The records of the names of the graduates from 1894 through 1918 are readily available from the school records, sorted by graduation year, with the names of these graduates listed in alphabetical order.  With an average number of about 59 graduates per year for that time period, it was a tedious, yet ultimately manageable task to compile a complete list of these graduates for comparison purposes.  However, the search is not just limited to the school’s graduates, but it encompasses the entire alumni – all former students of the school.  During that era, it was extremely common for students to attend high school for 1 to 3 years before joining the work force.  Indeed, it is estimated that only about 25% of Roman students in the late 19th and early 20th centuries stayed at the school from freshman through senior year to receive their diplomas. 

Unfortunately, the issue arose due to the fact that the records of all Roman alumni who ever attended the school – which includes crucial data such as address, birth date, mother’s name, and father’s name –  not only number in the tens of thousands, but are maintained on outdated microfiche film in alphabetical order by student last name, and not by class year.  While I would certainly use these records, and continue to do so, for ultimate verification of a potential find, it was nearly impossible to manually update a spreadsheet with the key information that would have enabled quick comparisons against the list of Philadelphians and Pennsylvanians who died in the Great War.

Consequently, the next phase of the search consisted of extensive reviews of numerous Philadelphia newspapers from that era as well as visiting old Philadelphia Catholic Churches that still had WW I commemorative plaques listing the names of parishoners who gave their lives in the war. Additionally, tips received from individuals who heard about the search led to the discovery of two names.

  • Newspapers – Current technology enables me to electronically search digitally archived newspapers utilizing key words or phrases, while also narrowing the search to a particular time period.  This has been crucial in not only the discovery of the Roman alumni who served and died in the war, but also those who were wounded as well.  The additional names of Roman alumni that have been discovered from these newspapers are listed below:
    • Joseph D. Waples – Class of 1914 (thanks to the efforts of Steve Johnston, Class of 2010)
    • Walter J. Spearing – Class of 1909
    • Joseph F. Murray – Class of 1908
    • John J. Boyle – Class of 1914
    • James W.Callahan – Class of 1918
    • Bernard F. Breen – Class of 1902
    • Daniel P. Lafferty – Class of 1916
    • Michael R. Leonard – Class of 1910
    • John F. Owens – Class of 1908 (died in 1922 from wounds sustained during the war)

Assorted newspaper articles that I’ve gathered from the search identifying Roman alumni who were killed in action are shown below:

  • Names listed on WW I Commemorative Plaques at old Philadelphia Catholic Churches – When I informed my father of the difficulties I was encountering in the early days of my search, he suggested checking the names listed on the large WW I memorial plaque in the vestibule of St. Columba Church, his parish as a youth that dates back to 1895.  The Catholic boys from this North Philadelphia parish, now known as St. Martin de Porres, have a long-standing tradition of attending Roman and my father thought it was likely that some of those parishoners who gave their lives in World War I also attended Roman.  Dad turned out to be right as this led to the discovery of another name –  Francis T. Schommer from the Class of 1914.  This, in turn, led me to checking the names from several other old Catholic church commemorative WW I plaques: St. John the Evangelist, St. Patrick’s, Visitation B.V.M., St. Vincent DePaul, St. John the Baptist, St. Bridget’s, Corpus Christi, St. Michael’s, and St. Bartholemew’s.  While these searches did not reveal any new names, a few of these plaques did list names that were previously discovered.
Francis T. Schommer in uniform (left), and St. Columba Church – now known as St. Martin DePorres – and its large 4’x6′ WW I Memorial plaque (right)
  • Tips from those who have heard of the search – I was fortunate to have had several of my Op-Ed essays chronicling this search published in the Philadelphia Inquirer.  Consequently, there were many people who were not only aware of it, but also provided information that led to the confirmation of two additional Roman alumni who died in World War I:
    • Peter J. Conway – Class of 1910: His great niece contacted me via e-mail and wasn’t sure if he attended Roman, but thought that it was likely based on family history.  Roman’s records confirmed that Conway was an alumnus.
    • Walter J. Wiegand – Class of 1915: A researcher who checked the Roman digital archives maintained on Villanova University’s Falvey Memorial Digital Library contacted me via e-mail after finding a Roman document dating back to 1940 that was written by Paul Jones from the Class of 1915. Jones, then a columnist for the Philadelphia Bulletin, reminisced about his graduation year at Roman in this document and revealed the following “…Walt Wiegand, another classmate, would die three years later in a tank attack on the plains between Amiens and St. Quentin.” Again, a review of newspaper articles as well as Roman’s records confirmed that Wiegand was an alumnus.
Philadelphia Record – 1918 (left), Catholic Standard & Times – 1918 (center), Philadelphia Press – 1918 (right)

The Wounded

One of the more surprising results of the search has been the discovery of numerous Roman alumni who were wounded in the Great War.  Initially these discoveries were unexpectedly made while looking over various newspaper articles in a search for the Roman alumni who were killed in action.  However, another method that I used that also resulted in discovering the wounded was taking the list of Roman graduates and then searching the military records on Ancestry.com in the hopes of finding information that would be helpful in my search.  Just based upon the number of wounded I’ve found somewhat accidentally, as well as in relatively cursory attempts, I’ve concluded that it’s likely that a few hundred Roman alumni were wounded in World War I.

A particularly interesting finding regarding the wounded was the story of Joseph P. Collins from the Class of 1912.  He served as a Corporal in Company B of the 145th Infantry Regiment of the famed 28th Division.  Using Ancestry.com, I discovered the account he wrote of the early days of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive when he was wounded, a portion of which states: “…advanced to Toul Sector, then to St. Mihiel and Meuse-Argonne fight starting 9/25/18 here on this front I was 4 days out during time capturing about 30 prisoners and killing about 10, then on the morning of the 29th Sept. I was hit with a German 77 on the left ankle bone, some striking me before it struck the ground then piecing off same shell shot down the field about 100 yards killing several other boys.  Then I was carried back to the 1st Aid Station for treatment where I laid under Jerry’s fire for 10 hrs.  Afterward I was moved for 60 hrs until I received special attention, then on Oct 1, 1918 my leg was amputated….”

Below are an assortment of newspaper articles and Pennsylvania Veteran’s Compensation Application records found of the Roman alumni who were wounded in battle (all were confirmed to be alumni):

A Search for Names Becomes a Revelation of Stories

Among the most surprising and gratifying aspects of the search thus far has been the discovery of long forgotten exploits of some of the Roman alumni who served in the Great War.  What I had naively assumed would be a simple search for names has instead become a remarkable revelation of stories, not only of those who gave their lives, but those who survived as well.

I’ve compiled quite a few of these stories during my research, but space limitations preclude me from summarizing all of them in this article.  What follows are some of the more noteworthy among them:

Edward J. Kelley – Class of 1908:  Kelley was not only the first Roman alumnus to give his life in the Great War, but he was also among the first Americans to die as well.  He joined the American Ambulance Field Service in 1916, some 8 months before the U.S. even entered the war.  On September 23, 1916, during the Battle of Verdun, while helping to transport wounded French soldiers, Kelley was killed when an ambulance he was in was hit by German shrapnel fire.  He was held in such high regard by the French Army that they gave Kelley a full military funeral as well as posthumously awarding him the French Croix de Guerre medal for bravery.  Kelley’s family read my 2014 story about him in the Philadelphia Inquirer and sent me a photo of a letter signed by all of the French soldiers who attended his funeral, as well as a photo of a French soldier standing at his gravesite.

Sept. 25, 1916 Philadelphia Public Ledger (left), letter to the Kelley family from the French soldiers who attended his funeral (center), French soldier at Kelley’s gravesite (right)

Vincent Diodati – Class of 1906:  After graduating from Roman, Diodati earned his medical degree from Jefferson Medical College and practiced medicine in Philadelphia.  He enlisted in the Army the day the U.S. declared war on Germany on April 6, 1917 and was quickly commissioned a lieutenant.  Because the British were in dire need of battlefield surgeons, he was immediately assigned to British forces before any U.S. troops even entered the battlefield.  During his entire time in Europe he was under constant fire.  In the battles that his unit was involved in, Diodati was wounded three times and gassed twice.  At one point, he was severely wounded but refused to leave the field hospital because he wanted to continue to tend to the wounded Allied soldiers.  Of his original outfit of 220 men, Diodati was one of only 14 survivors.  For his gallantry, Diodati was promoted to Major and received the coveted British Military Cross which was personally presented to him by King George of England.  Following the war, Diodati resumed practicing medicine in Philadelphia and was a member of the American Medical Association.  He died in 1970 at the age of 81.  Upon reading my story about Diodati in the Philadelphia Inquirer, his niece contacted me and sent a photo of his British Military Cross that she inherited.

March 28, 1919 Philadelphia Public Ledger (left), Dr. Vincent Diodati – circa 1960’s (center), Diodati’s British Military Cross (right)

Joseph L. N. Wolfe – Class of 1899:  After graduating from Roman, Wolfe was ordained a priest in 1906, serving in the Philadelphia Archdiocese.  He enlisted in the Army at the outbreak of World War I and was among an incredible 16 Roman alumni who served as priest-chaplains during the war.  Wolfe served in the 110th Infantry Regiment and 55th Infantry Brigade of Pennsylvania’s 28th Division.  He participated in some of the bloodiest fighting of the war as his division fought in nearly every major U.S. Army engagement, including the great Battle of the Meuse-Argonne.  Wolfe consistently put himself in harm’s way as he tended to the wounded soldiers on the battlefield, and also administered last rites to dying soldiers during battle.  For his courage and bravery, Wolfe was awarded the Distinguished Service Medal, and 2 Silver Star Citations.  He went on to become National Chaplain of the American Legion and also served as a pastor in the West Philadelphia parishes of Saint Barbara’s and Saint Gregory’s.  He died in 1949 at the age of 67.

Reverend Lt. Joseph L.N. Wolfe (left), Sept. 28, 1918 Philadelphia Public Ledger (center), June 17, 1919 Philadelphia Public Ledger (right)

John W. Friel – Class of 1910:  Following graduation, Friel attended the University of Pennsylvania’s Wharton School.  He served as a corporal in the 37th Division’s 145th Infantry Regiment.  During World War I’s great Battle of the Meuse-Argonne, on Nov. 2, 1918, in full view of the enemy and under heavy artillery and machine-gun fire, Friel and two fellow soldiers swam across the Escaut/Scheldt River to complete the construction of a crucial footbridge.  The other two soldiers with Friel were killed during the action.  Friel managed to make it to the other side and completed the footbridge which enabled American troops to cross the river during the battle.  For his actions, Friel was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross, the Silver Star, the Croix de Guerre with 2 palms from France, the Croix de Guerre from Belgium, and the Purple Heart.  Following the war, Friel worked for the Standard Press Steel Company for 42 years, retiring as Executive Vice President.  In 1963, Friel was named National Commander of the Legion of Valor, an organization that dates to the Civil War for military personnel who have been awarded either the Medal of Honor, the Distinguished Service Cross, or the Navy Cross.  Friel was honored in a White House ceremony by President Lyndon Johnson.  He died in 1970, and his legacy was so revered that his obituary was printed in the New York Times.           

John Friel (right) awards Legion of Valor to John Geoghegancirca 1960 (left), Friel’s grave in Queenstown, Maryland (right)

John F. Owens – Class of 1908: Owens enlisted in the Army in 1916 and served at the Mexican border.  At the outbreak of World War I, he served in the 109th Infantry Regiment of the 28th Division.  He participated in five major battles, including Fismette and Chateau-Thierry.  At Chateau-Thierry he was severely wounded with a machine gun wound to his hip.  This injury necessitated several operations both during and after the war, and, in 1922, four years after the war ended, Owens died from those wounds.  However, on March 13, 1930, Owens was posthumously awarded the Silver Star for gallantry in action during the Battle of Fismette.  The Army citation reads as follows: “Pvt. Owens was a member of a detachment consisting of two automatic rifle squads that was holding a position north of the bridgehead in the town of Fismette.  During the severe enemy artillery bombardment of their position the members of the detachment were buried under falling buildings on three different occasions, but each time they were able to rescue one another, salvage their guns and continue to hold the position.”

John F. Owens – circa 1917 (left), Feb 14, 2022 Philadelphia Public Ledger (center, Owens’ Silver Star Citation (right)

John T. McFall – Class of 1917: McFall served as a private in the 5th Regiment of the 2nd Marine Division.  In June 1918, McFall’s regiment fought in the Battle of Belleau Wood.  The battle is now legendary in Marine lore and noted for the tenacious hand-to-hand fighting that ensued and the heavy casualties sustained by both sides.  U.S. forces suffered 9,777 casualties, including 1,811 killed.  At least one Roman alumnus, Walter J. Spearing from the Class of 1909, was killed in the fighting.  McFall was awarded the French Croix de Guerre medal for bravery.  He died in 1941.

July 1918, Catholic Standard & Timeslisted incorrect middle initial (left), McFall’s grave at Miami City Cemetery (right)

William J. Armstrong – Class of 1912:  While at Roman, Armstrong was Captain of the football team.  During World War I he served as a First Lieutenant and fighter pilot in the 17th United States Aero Squadron.  In July of 1918 Armstrong was cited by the British for bringing down an enemy aircraft, and on August 11, 1918, during a dog-fight in which Armstrong was engaged against 4 German fighter planes, he reportedly shot down one, and possibly two, enemy planes.  He was severely injured during the engagement but still managed to land his plane.  The incident made headline news in the Philadelphia newspapers.  In 1934, Armstrong was a founding member of the Order of Daedalians, formed by a representative group of American World War I pilots to perpetuate the spirit of patriotism and love of country that advocated for air and space power to ensure American preeminence as well as foster an esprit de corps in the military air forces.  The Daedalians are still active today.

Oct. 1, 1918 Philadelphia Public Ledger (left), Sept. 30, 1918 Philadelphia Press (center), Armstrong writes of his wartime experiences (right)

John F. McCloskey – Class of 1896: Following graduation from Roman, McCloskey served in the U.S. Army’s Battery “A” of the Pennsylvania Volunteers during the Puerto Rican Campaign of the Spanish-American War in 1898.  After the war, he enrolled at the University of Pennsylvania and was named an All-American football player.  He graduated from Penn’s Medical School in 1901.  McCloskey co-founded Chestnut Hill Hospital in Philadelphia in 1904.  In 1915, before the United States formally entered World War 1, McCloskey volunteered to help the French Army and served in the famed American Ambulance Corp.  When the U.S. declared war on Germany in 1917, he then served in the U.S. Army Medical Corps with the 42nd Division, attaining the rank of Lieutenant Colonel.  McCloskey became an expert surgeon in facial reconstruction for soldiers inflicted with severe facial wounds suffered in battle.  He later went on to become a prominent Philadelphia physician, a clinical professor of surgery at Woman’s Medical College, and Register of Wills for the city of Philadelphia.  After nearly 50 years of service at Chestnut Hill Hospital, McCloskey died in 1951.  There is a grammar school named after him in the Mt. Airy section of Philadelphia.

Dr. John F. McCloskey – 1950 (left), March 20, 1941 Philadelphia Inquirer (center), John F. McCloskey Public School – Philadelphia (right)

Another interesting aspect of the search has been the rediscovery of Roman alumni with ties to World War I who would later distinguish themselves in their careers.  Some of the more noteworthy are summarized below:

  • James P. McGranery – Class of 1914: McGranery served in World War I with the 111th Infantry Division as a Balloon Observation pilot.  He would go on to become a Federal Judge and U.S. Congressman and was appointed as Attorney General under President Harry Truman in 1952.
  • Tommy Loughran – Class of 1920: While a sophomore at Roman in 1917, Loughran, eager to fight for his country, lied about his age and enlisted in the Army.  Just prior to shipping out overseas, military authorities discovered the 15-year old’s true age and sent him home.  He would later go on to become one of the greatest light-heavyweight champions in boxing history, eventually inducted into both the Boxing Hall of Fame and the Marine Sports Hall of Fame (Loughran served in WW II).
  • Vincent A. Carroll – Class of 1909: One of the most prominent Philadelphians of his era, Carroll served as a Captain in the 79th Division’s Artillery Field Battalion in WW I.  His unit was involved in heavy fighting in the battles of St. Mihiel and the Meuse-Argonne.  Carroll received an Army citation for gallantry in battle and was promoted to Major.  Following the war, Carroll continued to practice law in Philadelphia, then served as Assistant District Attorney and a Judge in the Court of Common Pleas.  He was eventually chosen by his fellow judges as the first President Judge of the Philadelphia Court of Common Pleas.  Carroll is also the founder of the modern St. Patrick’s Day parade in Philadelphia.
  • Peter Guilday – Class of 1901:  Guilday, the founder of the American Catholic Historical Association, was ordained a priest following graduation from Roman and later tried to enlist in the Army at the outbreak of the war but was denied due to poor eyesight.  However, as one of the most prominent Church historians and authors, Guilday would later be named as Secretary of the historic records of the National Catholic War Council, and he would also chronicle the history of Catholics in World War I.
  • William F. Dalton – Class of 1904: Dalton served as an Army Infantry Captain in the 154th Depot Brigade during World War I, though not overseas until 1919.  He also served as a Lieutenant Colonel in World War II and was captured by the Japanese when the Philippines fell in 1942.  Dalton was held as a POW until 1945 when he was liberated by Russian troops in Manchuria, and he was awarded the Silver Star for bravery.

The Status of the Search

During the first 3 years of the search for the Roman alumni who gave their lives in the Great War, the working assumption, based upon the 1919 Yearbook passage, was that a total of 14 alumni had died.  However, in 2014, I was stunned to discover newspaper articles referencing a December 28, 1919, Memorial Mass that was held at the school “to honor the memory of the 32 former students who died in the war…”  Additionally, another crucial piece of information was gleaned from these articles as, apparently, the total number of alumni who served was listed as 1,500.  Not only did these new revelations take me by complete surprise, but I was again frustrated that the names of these deceased 32 alumni were not provided in the articles.  However, I now believe that a brochure or a pamphlet was likely handed out at this Memorial Mass that did list these names.  I’m convinced that in the attic of an old Philadelphia rowhome are the long-forgotten belongings of someone who attended the Mass and kept that pamphlet – perhaps a relative of one of the dead soldiers.  Finding it is now my “Holy Grail.”

Since that time, I have subsequently discovered that at least two additional alumni, John F. Owens from the Class of 1908 and William H. Barrow from the Class of 1913, died in 1922 of wounds sustained in battle during the war, thus raising the total now to 34.

One of the most puzzling and frustrating mysteries surrounding this search has been trying to find the reason why Roman did not have a memorial plaque to honor its fallen alumni of World War I.  It has perplexed all the alumni, both young and old, who I’ve spoken to.  The mystery only deepened with the discovery of early 1919 newspaper articles stating that Roman’s Alumni Association named a memorial committee whose planning would eventually culminate in the unveiling of a bronze tablet at the school that honored the “martyrs to nation.” 

In December of 1919, the Alumni Association again publicly stated that it still planned to move forward with a memorial but hadn’t yet decided what “form it would take.”  My search for additional news following this last pronouncement has come up empty and it is unknown as to what eventually became of those plans.  Was there once a memorial or a plaque to honor the Roman alumni of World War I?  If so, what happened to it, and if not, why?  To those who are unfamiliar with the fierce loyalty that the Roman alumni have always had for their school, this mystery may seem trivial.  But our motto is “Brothers for Life”, and these ideals have been largely embraced by, and passed down to, each subsequent class since 1894.  This unyielding allegiance was never more evident than in the 1980’s when the alumni fought against, and prevented, the Philadelphia Archdiocese’s plans to close the school.  So, the idea that the Alumni Association’s publicly announced plans for this memorial were somehow scrapped and forgotten is almost unimaginable for most of us to accept.  For me, the resolution of this mystery is just as vital as finding the names of the fallen.    

At Roman Catholic High School’s annual Veteran’s Day Assembly in 2013, a new World War I Memorial plaque commissioned by the Alumni Association was unveiled.  It was designed to only list 14 alumni names, so shortly after the discovery that it was actually 32 alumni, and possibly more, who had given their lives, another plaque for these additional names was approved.  Together, both plaques can hold a total of 36 names if necessary.  They are pictured here with the 19 names discovered thus far and are now hanging next to the World War II memorial plaque in the first-floor hall at Roman.

A relatively recent discovery has now raised my hopes for finding most, if not all, of the remaining names.  With the help of John Corrigan, history teacher and Chairman of Roman Catholic High School’s Social Studies Department, I was provided a copy of a pamphlet that was distributed at a May 30, 1919, Memorial Mass for Philadelphia’s Catholic war dead.  It was held in Philadelphia’s massive Cathedral Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul, just a few blocks from Roman Catholic High School.  The pamphlet lists 619 names of the known Catholic soldiers and sailors who died during the Great War and also provides their address, military unit, how they died, when, and their home parish.  While it is certainly not a complete list of all those Philadelphia Catholics who died, it does narrow my search enough to make it a bit more manageable.  It is now just a matter of setting aside some time and manually checking each name against Roman’s microfiche records.  The first pages of the pamphlet are shown below.

In closing, perhaps the most poignant discovery I have made thus far is the story of John Jenkins from the Class of 1912.  He was the Class Vice President and Editor of Roman’s monthly journal and yearbook, the Purple and Gold.  While conducting a search on Ancestry.com of the records that may be available for the Roman graduates from the Class of 1912, I discovered that Jenkins enlisted in the Army just one month after the U.S. had declared war on Germany.  He served in the 79th, 29th, and 28th Divisions eventually attaining the rank of 1st lieutenant.  On his Pennsylvania Veterans Compensation Application he listed his “Engagements” (battles he fought in) as St. Mihiel and the Meuse-Argonne, two of the bloodiest battles of the war with the Meuse-Argonne now having the distinction of being the largest and deadliest battle ever fought by U.S. soldiers.  I could only imagine what Jenkins must have experienced. 

I continued to browse his records and learned that he was a real estate salesman and that he and his wife, Lola, never had any children.  As I continued to search, I then found that he died in 1941, at the young age of 46.  On his Pennsylvania Certificate of Death, the coroner stated that the cause of death was “Suicide by carbon monoxide gas as he sat in an automobile with hose connected to the exhaust pipe.”  Other contributory causes were also listed: “Mental depression & alcohol addiction.”

I sat staring at my computer screen, repeatedly reading the Death Certificate over and over.  I then went back to read his Veterans Compensation Application.  Next to “Wounds or other injuries received”, Jenkins wrote: “None.”  However, I don’t believe this is true.  Although John Jenkins had no wounds from the Great War that could be seen, it certainly didn’t mean that he had none.  While I cannot say for sure that his experiences during the war were the cause of his mental depression, it would be negligent to believe that he was not deeply scarred by St. Mihiel and the Meuse-Argonne. 

I’m now convinced that the Great War killed John Jenkins as surely as it killed our other alumni, and although I have yet to find all the Cahillites who gave their lives, I believe it’s likely that I’ve already found Roman Catholic High School’s final casualty of World War I.

                                                              ____________________________

The Young Dead Soldiers Do Not Speak

Nevertheless they are heard in the still houses: who has not heard them?

They have a silence that speaks for them at night and when the clock counts.

They say, We were young. We have died. Remember us.

They say, We have done what we could but until it is finished it is not done.

They say, We have given our lives but until it is finished no one can know what our lives gave.

They say, Our deaths are not ours: they are yours: they will mean what you make them.

They say, Whether our lives and our deaths were for peace and a new hope or for nothing we cannot say: it is you who must say this.

They say, We leave you our deaths: give them their meaning: give them an end to the war and a true peace: give them a victory that ends the war and a peace afterwards: give them their meaning.

We were young, they say. We have died. Remember us.

(Archibald Macleish was a World War I veteran and Pulitzer Prize winning poet)

Although my search for the Roman Catholic High School alumni who gave their lives in World War I has resulted in numerous, rewarding moments of discovery, it has also wrought many instances of frustration and disappointment.  Dead-ends, fractured records, and a busy schedule have hindered my search from the outset.  But whenever my confidence in finding Roman’s ‘lost boys’ of the Great War begins to waver, I think of the poem by Archibald Macleish.  These young dead soldiers cannot speak, and, like everyone else, I did not remember them, but only because I knew nothing about them.  Now that I know a bit more about who they were, where they lived, and what they strived to be, I cannot forget them.  We share a common bond as we were shaped during our formative years at the same legendary high school.  Borne of the same philanthropic father, we are brothers for life, and I will never give up in trying to find them.  I no longer worry about completing this task for I know that if I cannot, others will.

The Roman alumni of World War I were young and they died, and they do not speak, yet faint whispers can still be heard from their graves: “Remember us.” 

I will…and I shall not forget. 

Chris Gibbons is a Philadelphia writer.  His recent book, “Soldiers, Space, and Stories of Life” is available via Amazon.com (see below link) and Barnesandnoble.com.  The book is a compilation of his published stories with many focusing on war veterans.  An entire chapter features those stories chronicling his search for the alumni of Roman Catholic High School who fought in World War I. 

A Prayer for the Unknown Soldier by Chris Gibbons

Published at Broad & Liberty (broadandliberty.com)

Nov. 11, 2021, marked the 100-year anniversary of the first interment ceremonies at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, and for Philadelphia’s Roman Catholic High School this centennial commemoration holds special significance. The link to the story of Roman’s Edward A. Duff from the Class of 1903: https://broadandliberty.com/2021/11/11/chris-gibbons-a-prayer-for-the-unknown-soldier/

Adrift in a Sea of Dissention by Chris Gibbons

When I arrived at Fernwood Cemetery in Lansdowne, Pennsylvania in the early afternoon of January 6th, 2021, it was colder than I had anticipated, with a biting wind, and, although I had a cemetery map with the specific Section and Grave number that I sought, I knew from previous searches of old gravesites that having this information didn’t always guarantee success.

Despite the cold, I was content to be there that day.  Historic research has become a rewarding activity for me over the last several years, and I knew that the protests planned for that day in Washington D.C. would be another gloomy reminder of our sharp national divide, so I purposely chose that day to revive my dormant research interests in the hopes that it would not only serve as a welcome diversion, but also lift my spirits a bit.  For the grave that I sought to find was my great-great grandfather’s, a former Philadelphia police officer.  I’d just recently discovered that the New Jersey State Archives had mistaken him for a Marlboro, N.J. man with the same name buried in a New Jersey cemetery, and I was eager to photograph his gravestone.

Although a cemetery employee had confirmed the grave’s location over the phone prior to my visit, I didn’t have any success finding it.  Unfortunately, the cemetery office was closed that day, so I decided to head back home, but vowed to return and resume my search with the help of the cemetery personnel.

                                                                       ____________________

As dawn broke on April 9th, 1865 at Appomattox Courthouse in Virginia, Major General George A. Custer maneuvered his 3rd Division troops on a ridge overlooking the Confederate positions and prepared to attack Confederate General Robert E. Lee’s once vaunted, but now badly battered, Army of Northern Virginia.  Among the Cavalry units in Custer’s 1st Brigade was the 3rd New Jersey Cavalry, commanded by Colonel Alexander C. M. Pennington.  Just the night before, the 3rd New Jersey, along with other cavalry units of the 1st Brigade, attacked the Confederate cavalry positioned in the woods a half-mile from Appomattox Station.  In the fierce hand-to-hand fighting that followed, Custer’s victorious troops seized 24 cannon, 5 battle flags, 200 wagons, and taken 1,000 prisoners.      

A murmur soon arose among the Union soldiers as a Confederate staff officer, Major Robert Sims, under escort by a Union officer, approached Custer while carrying a white towel on a pole.  Sims told Custer that General Lee requested a suspension of hostilities.  As chronicled in Custer by Jeffry D. Wert, Custer “replied that he was not commander on the field and could not halt the attack unless Lee announced an unconditional surrender.  Turning to Chief of Staff Edward Whitaker, Custer directed the lieutenant colonel to return with Sims to the enemy lines and to wait for a response.” 

A few hours later, at the home of Wilmer McLean, Lee surrendered his army to Union General Ulysses S. Grant.  A poignant moment occurred as the terms of the surrender were being finalized.  General Grant took the opportunity to introduce Lee to the Union officers in attendance.  One of them was Lieutenant Colonel Ely S. Parker, a Seneca Indian who served as adjutant and secretary to Grant.  As recollected by Lt. Col. Parker in The Life of General Ely S. Parker: Last Grand Sachem of the Iroquois and General Grant’s Military Secretary, by Arthur C. Parker, “Lee stared at me for a moment…he extended his hand and said, ‘I am glad to see one real American here.’  I shook his hand and said, ‘We are all Americans.’”   

As word of the surrender spread among the Union troops, jubilant cries erupted along their lines.  In the days following the surrender, New York Times war correspondent, E.A. Paul, reported that even the Virginia citizens in the very heart of the Confederacy were joyous:  “As Custer’s cavalry column passed through the country…the people flocked to the roadside, waved handkerchiefs, and at several places actually clapped their hands to express their happiness.  At the house where Gen. Custer made his headquarters last night, the people made a particular request that the band play the Star Spangled Banner – an unheard of event during the last four years.”

For the men of Custer’s 3rd New Jersey Cavalry, many of them from Philadelphia, this moment must have been bitter-sweet.  Although 157 of their fellow soldiers had given their lives for the Union cause, they were likely heartened to see that their sacrifice was not in vain and America would now finally unite again.

                                                                _______________________

When I arrived home after my unsuccessful search at Fernwood Cemetery, the attack on the Capitol Building was well underway, and I was stunned by the violent images on my TV screen.

But there was one photo among the hundreds shown on the news programs that day that truly shook me.  It was a photo of one of the rioters, and he was carrying something that now permanently marks that day as one that I’ll always remember for its sad and striking irony.  For on the day that I tried to find the grave of my great-great grandfather, James H. Baird, a Union sergeant in Company B of the 3rd New Jersey Cavalry, and who was there at Appomattox when Lee surrendered to Grant, a rioter walked through the halls of our Capitol carrying a Confederate flag.  If the man had been armed with a gun instead of that flag, he wouldn’t have been as deadly, for his brazen act symbolically slayed the remaining, feeble hopes for American unity.

And if those from the left side of the political spectrum proudly tout this photo as evidence of their greater allegiance to traditional American values, they need to be reminded that there are also photos from the 2020 summer riots of numerous monuments dedicated to Union soldiers and abolitionists that were defaced by leftist extremists.

Although the Civil War ended over 155 years ago, America is now once again adrift in a sea of dissention.  I can’t help but think that if my great-great grandfather, in the early days of the post-Civil War era, had somehow been miraculously transported forward in time, and then viewed these same photos, that he would have wept.

As we mark the one-year anniversary of the attack on the U.S. Capitol, a time of unprecedented division in which we could be witnessing the initial stages of the dissolution of our union, remember the brave Union soldiers who fought, and died, to preserve it.

AFTERWORD – A few months after my initial visit to Fernwood Cemetery, with the help of the cemetery staff, I did find my great-great grandfather’s grave.  Interestingly, nearby was the grave of another Civil War veteran, Thomas H.L. Payne, a Medal of Honor recipient.

More stories of the veterans of America’s wars can be found in the new book by Philadelphia writer, Chris Gibbons: “Soldiers, Space, and Stories of Life”. Amazon.com link is below:

A Soldier Considers His Fortune

Excerpt from the book “Soldiers, Space and Stories of Life” by Chris Gibbons. Originally published in the December 7, 2011 Philadelphia Inquirer.

It was Sunday, December 7, 1941, just a few minutes before 8am, and a large formation of planes was traveling west in the clear, blue Hawaiian sky, towards the U.S. Naval Base at Pearl Harbor.  Initially, Army Tech Sergeant Dave Coonahan of Philadelphia didn’t think there was anything unusual about the planes.  He was riding in a truck with some fellow soldiers headed for Sunday Mass, and planes were always taking off or landing at Kaneohe Naval Air Station, so Dave assumed it was just normal flight traffic.  But as the drone of the planes grew louder, Dave thought the situation was somewhat odd.  He looked up and was puzzled not only by the large numbers of planes, but their strange shapes as well.  Suddenly, a voice came over the truck radio: “This is not a drill…this is not a drill!”   Then one of the men shouted, “They’re Japanese Zeros!”

The droning engines of the Zeros changed to a terrifying whine as they quickly dove down into attack formation.  The truck stopped and the men scrambled out, but they were totally unprepared for what was happening.   “We had our guns and rifles”, Dave said, “But no ammunition.”  Although the men were a relatively safe distance away from Kaneohe when the attack started, they could see and hear the devastation that the Zeros were inflicting on the air station.

“An older sergeant finally retrieved some ammunition, but by the time he brought it back, the Japanese had already destroyed over 32 planes at Kaneohe,” Dave recalled.  “Some of our planes got off the ground and got a few of the Zero’s, but they gave it to us pretty good that day.”

After neutralizing Kaneohe, the Japanese then focused their assault on their main objective – destroying the U.S. naval fleet at Pearl Harbor.  When the infamous sneak attack was over, the U.S. fleet was in ruins with over 2,400 Americans killed and nearly 1,300 wounded.  20 Americans were killed at Kaneohe – 2 civilians and 18 sailors.      

That night, Dave’s battalion was ordered back to the beach at Kaneohe to defend against a Japanese amphibious assault.  Although the attack never came, the battalion remained on the island for months.  “If they decided to attack after our preparations, we were ready,” Dave said.

Dave grew up in North Philadelphia and graduated from Northeast Catholic High School before he was drafted into the Army.  Prior to the attack on Pearl Harbor, Dave’s 34th Combat Engineer Battalion helped with the construction of the Army fortifications on Oahu, and built the soldier’s barracks near Kaneohe.  The men were initially quite pleased with their assignment in Hawaiian “paradise”, as they called it, and Dave thought the “luck of the Irish must be with me.”  But his luck wouldn’t last as the dark clouds of war soon dimmed the army life he once knew.

Incredibly, Pearl Harbor wasn’t the worst of what Dave would experience.  He fought throughout the Pacific for 47 months without receiving one furlough.  His unit participated in the invasion of Saipan in June 1944, and he was part of the initial invasion of Okinawa in 1945.  During my interview with him, Dave choked-up a few times as the bitter memories of Okinawa came flooding back.  “It was awful there,” Dave said.  “My worst memories of the war were at Okinawa.”  When the Japanese finally surrendered in 1945, Dave’s unit was preparing to invade the Japanese islands of Kyushu and Honshu.  “Thank God that never happened.  It would have been a nightmare,” he told me.

When Dave finally returned to Philadelphia, the city buses were running hopelessly late, and he had to pick up his heavy barracks bag and walk home.  I asked Dave if he thought the “luck of the Irish” had deserted him again that day, but he laughed and said, “Oh no, it was with me.  I was home.”

Dave and his late wife, Mary, raised 4 children, and he worked for the Prudential Insurance Company for 33 years.  He’s now 92 years old, and still resides in the same Oreland, Pa house where he raised his children.

On that fateful morning in December 1941, Dave never did make it to church.  But when I asked him if he had anything special planned to mark the 70th anniversary of the attack, I wasn’t surprised by his response:  “I’ll just go to church and pray for those who died that day.”

AFTERWORD

Dave Coonhan’s daughter, Kate, set up my interview with him at her home, and, like so many of the war veterans that I’ve interviewed over the years, Dave was humble, unassuming, and proud of his wartime service.  I was unaware until the interview that Dave also fought in the Battle of Okinawa following the attack on Pearl Harbor.  He kept his emotions in check when he spoke of Pearl Harbor, but the memories of Okinawa must have been his most haunting as Dave became visibly emotional when discussing them.  The fact that he spent 47 straight days on the battle-lines is almost unimaginable.  Dave was also a member of Sandy Run Country Club in Flourtown, Pa. for 69 years, and I was informed by a fellow member that shortly after my essay was published, it was framed and hung on a wall for all the members to see, as most knew nothing of Dave’s service during WW II.  He died in January, 2016, and I sincerely hope that Dave’s story still hangs on that wall at Sandy Run.

More stories of World War II veterans, as well as veterans of World War I and the Korean War, can be found in the new book by Philadelphia writer, Chris Gibbons: “Soldiers, Space, and Stories of Life”. Amazon.com link is below:

Goodwill in Wartime by Chris Gibbons

It was December 20, 1943, just five days before Christmas, and the 21 year-old pilot of American B-17F bomber Ye Olde Pub, First Lieutenant Charles “Charlie” Brown, was desperately trying to keep his heavily damaged plane aloft in the skies over Germany.    

As recently chronicled in the 2012 award winning book, “A Higher Call” by Adam Makos (with Larry Alexander), the Pub had just completed its bombing run of a Focke-Wulf airplane manufacturing plant in the German city of Bremen, but it was attacked by a swarm of Messerschmitt fighter planes, as well as ground based anti-aircraft guns.  The crew fought back as best they could, and even shot down one of the German fighters, but they clearly absorbed the worst of the fight.  The bomber’s nose, wings, and fuselage were riddled with gaping holes, and it was leaking oil and hydraulic fluid.   Half of its rudder was missing, and one of its engines was out.  When Brown asked for a damage report, one of the crew replied, “We’re chewed to pieces.”

Nearly half the members of the Pub’s crew were wounded, their blood splattered throughout the interior of the bomber.  The ball turret gunner, Hugh “Ecky” Eckenrode, was dead, his body slumped over the machine gun.  His dripping blood formed icicles in the freezing air that now rushed in through the shattered turret’s Plexiglas.

At one point, Brown told his crew that he was going to try to fly the damaged bomber back to England, but he gave them the option to bail out while they were still flying over land.  They all decided to stay with their commander.  Brown knew that their chances of making it back were slim, but he still had hope.

As the bomber limped towards the North Sea, a dark shape just off the right wing of the B-17 caught Brown’s attention.  He looked through the cockpit window and was terrified by what he saw.   It was a German Messerschmitt Bf-109 fighter plane, piloted by Luftwaffe ace Franz Stigler.  The fighter plane was so close that Brown could clearly see Stigler’s face.  The co-pilot of the B-17, Spencer ”Pinky” Luke, said, “My God, this is a nightmare.”  Brown responded, “He’s going to destroy us.” 

When Stigler initially encountered the B-17, he was prepared to fire.  He was not only just one more air victory from qualifying for the prestigious Knight’s Cross, but Stigler also sought vengeance for his older brother August,  who had been killed earlier in the war. 

But as he closed on the stricken bomber and surveyed the damage, he couldn’t believe that it was still flying.  Stigler could clearly see the dead tail gunner and his blood stained jacket.  The holes in the fuselage were so large that he could even see the Pub’s crew caring for the wounded.

Stigler, a Catholic who once studied to be a priest, placed his hand on his jacket pocket and felt the rosary beads that were inside.  His thoughts turned to his brother, and he also remembered the words of his former commander, legendary German Luftwaffe fighter ace Gustav Rodel, who once told him: “You follow the rules of war for you — not your enemy.  You fight by rules to keep your humanity.”   Stigler decided that he could not shoot and “would not have this on my conscience for the rest of my life.”

Stigler pulled up alongside the bomber and tried to get Brown’s attention.   He was waving his hands and mouthing the word “Sweden” in an attempt to get the American pilot to land his severely damaged aircraft there, as Sweden was a neutral country and only 30 minutes away.  But Brown and Luke couldn’t understand what Stigler was doing.  They still thought that he was going to attack, and were determined to go down fighting.  Brown ordered one his gunners to prepare to fire.

Finally realizing that the Americans would never understand, Stigler saluted Brown and said “Good luck, you’re in God’s hands.”   Brown was puzzled, and the image of Stigler saluting him before he peeled away stayed with him for the rest of his life.

Fortunately, the crew of Ye Olde Pub made it back to England that day and survived the remainder of the war.  Brown eventually married, raised two daughters, and worked for the State Department for many years before retiring to Florida.  But that day in 1943 always haunted him.  In the 1980’s, Brown started to have nightmares about the incident, and decided to try and find the German pilot.  He diligently searched military records, attended pilot reunions, and placed an ad in a newsletter for former German WW II pilots with the story of what happened.

Stigler, who moved to Canada in 1953, saw the ad and sent Brown a letter in 1990, letting him know that he was the German pilot who spared his crew.  As Brown read the letter, tears streamed down his cheeks.  When the two finally met in a Florida hotel lobby, they embraced and wept.  

Franz and Charlie became great friends, went on fishing trips together, attended military reunions together, and spoke at schools and other events.   Charlie even organized a reunion of the crew of Ye Olde Pub that was featured in a CBS This Morning segment in which a video was played for Franz showing pictures of the children and grandchildren of the crew.  The message to Franz was obvious, and he broke down in tears.   “The war cost him everything,” Makos said. “Charlie Brown was the only good thing that came out of World War II for Franz. It was the one thing he could be proud of.”

Franz Sigler died in March 2008, and Charlie died just 8 months later.  Franz once gave Charlie a book with a note he had written on the inside cover, and his words not only reveal his love for Charlie, but also serve as a reminder to all of us of the true meaning of Christmas:

 In 1940, I lost my only brother as a night fighter.  On the 20th of December, 4 days before Christmas, I had the chance to save a B-17 from her destruction, a plane so badly damaged it was a wonder that she was still flying.  The pilot, Charlie Brown, is for me, as precious as my brother was.  Thanks Charlie.

Your Brother,

Franz

AFTERWORD

A friend of mine, Pat Mundy, gave me the book, “A Higher Call”, and said “You must read this book.  It’s an amazing story and right up your alley.”  Pat was right.  It truly is a fantastic book that chronicles one of the most incredible war stories I’ve ever come across.  An e-mail I received from an Inquirer reader eloquently captured my feelings about the bond shared by Charlie and Franz, as well as my hopes for all of humanity:  “Your essay reminds us of our immense capability for love and compassion, but also of our immense capability for savagery, a duality recognized by Abraham Lincoln in his first inaugural address: ‘We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.’  Here’s hoping the ‘better angels of our nature’ prevail for all in the coming year.  Merry Christmas.”

More stories of World War II veterans, as well as veterans of World War I and the Korean War, can be found in the new book by Philadelphia writer, Chris Gibbons: “Soldiers, Space, and Stories of Life”. Amazon.com link is below:

When the Bulge Almost Broke by Chris Gibbons

(Edited version published in the December 16, 2004 Philadelphia Daily News)

The light snow fell steadily in the Ardennes Forest of southern Belgium during the early morning hours of December 16, 1944.  The American soldiers stationed in the area slept soundly that night as the prevailing opinion among the Allies was that the German army was in complete disarray and couldn’t possibly regroup to mount an offensive of any significance.  At 5:30am that morning, the stunned U.S. 1st Army division soon found out how badly they had miscalculated.

Eight German armored divisions and thirteen infantry divisions launched an all out attack.  It was the beginning of what came to be known as The Battle of the Bulge, the largest land battle of World War II in which the United States participated.  Hitler’s plan was to trap the Allied troops in Holland and Belgium, and push to the key Belgian port city of Antwerp.  He believed that the alliance between the U.S. and Britain was already fragile, and that this new offensive would further split the relationship, thus buying him more time to develop his secret weapons and rebuild his depleted and exhausted army.  Hitler’s plan was dependent upon speed and extended bad weather to keep the Allied air forces grounded.  Hitler also believed he had history on his side as it was in the Ardennes that he launched his successful surprise attack against France only 4 years earlier.    

The initial hours of the attack were wildly successful for the Germans.  U.S. Army units were surrounded or destroyed by the fast moving Wermacht, and large numbers of G.I.’s were surrendering.  Sergeant Ed Stewart of the 84th infantry recalled the initial chaos and fear among the Americans.  “The screaming sound of 288s, which was a major artillery on the part of the Germans, is absolutely frightening, it’s a nightmare”, he said.  It seemed that Hitler’s impossible gamble just might succeed.

However, on December 17 the Germans made a fatal mistake.  On a road leading to the Belgian town of Malmedy, SS troops committed one of the worst atrocities of the war.  Some 86 American POW’s were shot in a snow covered field.  Those that tried to crawl away were shot as well.  However, some did escape and as word spread of the massacre, the tide began to turn as determined and enraged American soldiers, some cut-off from their units and completely surrounded, began to take the initiative and refused to surrender.

82nd Airborne staff sergeant Ted Kerwood of New Jersey was one such soldier.  His unit was quickly rushed in to the battle, and as they approached a bridge in the Belgian town of Bielsaim on Christmas Eve, they noticed a column of German tanks and infantry quickly closing to cross the bridge.   A volunteer was needed to run down and set explosives to blow the bridge before the enemy crossed it.  Ted said that he would do it.  “We just had to go up there and take care of the situation”, Ted told me in a recent interview.  “You’re not really scared until after it’s over.  You just have a job to do, and you do it.”  Kerwood was awarded the Silver Star for his actions that day.  The fierce resistance of the U.S. 28th, 106th,  and 101st divisions was also a key factor in delaying the German advance.  But the most famous example of U.S. resolve occurred in the town of Bastogne, where the surrounded U.S. troops refused to yield to superior German forces.  The stunned Germans were told to “go to hell” when they requested the Americans to surrender.

The tenacious defense across the battlefield by the American soldiers soon caused the German advance to slow, and ultimately signaled defeat for Hitler.  As the German offensive ground to a halt, it was destroyed by superior Allied airpower when the weather cleared in late December.

This Christmas Eve, be thankful for the many blessings that we sometimes take for granted.  Remember that 60 years ago on this date, in the freezing cold of the Ardennes Forest, a determined group of American soldiers helped to ensure the freedom we have today.  They spent that Christmas Eve wondering whether it would be their last, and for many of them it was.  During this holiday season, take a moment to remember the veterans of this battle, and those who gave their lives, and raise a glass in salute.  Remember, that the likes of these men may never be seen again. 

This article is dedicated to the memory of Battle of the Bulge veteran Lawrence W. Summers of Roxborough.

More stories of World War II veterans, as well as veterans of World War I and the Korean War, can be found in the new book by Philadelphia writer, Chris Gibbons: “Soldiers, Space, and Stories of Life”. Amazon.com link is below:

Battle Exacts Heavy Toll Upon the Alumni of Famed Philadelphia High School by Chris Gibbons

Philadelphia Public Ledger: 9-28-18

On September 26, 1918, the soldiers of the 28th Division, many of them from Philadelphia, nervously glanced at their watches as dawn approached.  The massive artillery fire from their gunners which had begun hours before had finally ceased.  H Hour was nearly upon them, and as the men in the trenches awaited the signal to “go over the top”, the macabre paradoxes of war found many shaken with fear, yet strengthened by courage while stalked by Death. 

For 28th Division Lieutenant Daniel Lafferty of the 109th Infantry Regiment, and Sergeant Bernard Breen of the 108th Machine Gun Battalion, both alumni of Philadelphia’s Roman Catholic High School, the moment was all too familiar as they had already experienced heavy fighting during the summer.  Indeed, Lafferty was slightly wounded just a few weeks before, but had returned to his regiment.  It’s likely that their thoughts were for the men that they would soon lead into battle, as Lafferty and Breen were well-respected Army veterans, admired for their leadership qualities.  Both had served on the Mexican border in 1915, and Lafferty had received his commission a few months prior to the battle, while Breen had just been recommended for his commission.  They knew that the success of the attack, and the lives of their men, depended upon how well they would lead them into battle. 

A rolling fog crept through the Argonne forest as the officers told their men to get ready.  Helmet straps were tightened.  Field packs, gas masks, rifles, and ammunition were checked.  Fighting was expected to be at close quarters, and a final order was barked to the infantry: “Fix bayonets!”

                                                    _    _    _

On the morning of September 26, 1918, at 5:30am, following a 6 hour Allied artillery barrage from over 2,700 guns, the largest and deadliest battle ever fought by American soldiers began: The great Meuse-Argonne Offensive.  Its primary objective was to capture the Sedan-Mezieres railroad hub, Germany’s main supply and communication link, which was located between the River Meuse and the Argonne Forest.  The Allies believed that capturing this crucial railway hub would result in a German withdrawal from France and force them to capitulate.  It would not be an easy task.  Opposing the attacking Allied soldiers along this front just north of Verdun were 40 German Army divisions.

The bitterly-fought battle lasted 47 days, and ultimately resulted in the end of the Great War.  It involved 1.2 million American soldiers, and by the time that it concluded, 26,277 U.S. troops lost their lives, with another 95,786 wounded – the highest number of casualties for any battle ever fought by American soldiers.  Newspaper accounts of the great battle captivated an American public anxious for news from the front lines.  Worried families of the soldiers agonized as they read these dispatches which not only provided horrific descriptions of the battle, but listed the mounting casualties as well.

Perhaps the most sobering revelation of my now 9-year search for the alumni of Roman Catholic High School who gave their lives in World War 1 has been the terrible suffering that was endured by Philadelphians, both the soldiers and their families, during the Battle of the Meuse-Argonne.  Newspapers from that era, such as the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Philadelphia Public Ledger, and the Catholic Standard and Times, have been my most valuable resource in this search, and it was while poring over these newspapers from 1918 that I noticed a gradual, yet significant, change beginning with the early days of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive.  The number of names on the daily published casualty lists, as well as the number of ominous stories from the front lines, slowly began to increase.  In the Public Ledger, pictures of the dead and wounded soldiers, with their accompanying short biographies, sometimes covered a full page.  The grim casualty lists which had previously been a half-column in length, gradually expanded to 3 columns.

There were also numerous heartbreaking stories of parents receiving news that two of their sons had been killed, or that a previous notification of a son’s death was incorrect.  And due to the archaic communication flow of that era, there were also stories of parents receiving a letter from their son after already being notified that he had been killed in battle.  My two sons are the same age as the soldiers I was reading about, and many times I had to stop reading the articles to gather myself. 

My search for the names of the 32 Roman alumni who died in World War 1 has determined that many lost their lives during the Meuse–Argonne offensive.  On November 1, 1918 the Philadelphia Public Ledger reported that Bernard Breen had been “killed in action during the fighting along the Meuse.”  The article noted that his brother, Joseph, was an Army Captain, also serving in France.

The December 9, 1918 Philadelphia Inquirer revealed that Daniel Lafferty was “killed in action in the Argonne Forest.”  Five days later, the Catholic Standard & Times reported that Lafferty was killed while “bravely leading his men in the early dawn in the advance before Petit Boureuilles, near the Argonne Forest, and edifying his men by his courage…”  It also stated that a letter from a fellow soldier was sent to his widow, Mrs. Esther Lafferty, that “pays a glowing tribute to the deceased as an officer and a man.” 

Information traveled slowly back then, and my subsequent research found that, although their families received official notifications of their deaths in late October and early December, both men had actually died on September 27 – just one day after the start of the great Offensive. 

Sergeant Bernard Breen and Lieutenant Daniel Lafferty, alumni of Roman Catholic High School, who both served in the 28th Division and lost their lives on the same day, are buried in France at the Meuse-Argonne American Cemetery.  Their graves are located in the same Plot, just 2 rows apart.

More stories of Great War veterans, as well as an entire chapter chronicling the author’s search for the Roman Catholic High School alumni who died in World War I, can be found in the new book by Philadelphia writer, Chris Gibbons: “Soldiers, Space, and Stories of Life”. Amazon.com link is below: