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Remembering a Young Sailor
It was Veteran's Day in 1978. The drums rolled, the trumpet called
everyone to attention, and the band began playing the National Anthem.
The crowd, including former First Lady Lady Bird Johnson, rose, faced
the flag, and sang. I was a bit choked up seeing my dad and a very
select few other men wearing hats designating them as members of the
American Legion standing at attention and saluting, as best their aged
bodies would allow. Sixty years had passed since the armistice was
signed in 1919, and these few remaining World War I veterans from Texas
were on the plaza of the LBJ Library being recognized for that long-ago
service.
Every generation of my family had been in the military
in one capacity or another, and my dad was not going to be left out. As
a young boy in Dallas, Texas, he heard the call to arms to enter "The
Great War," "The War to End All Wars"--or so it was hoped back then.
There was only one big problem. It was 1917, and Harlie was too young.
He was not very tall, and he was not very heavy, but he was very
determined. So he found out what he had to do to get into this great
adventure going on in the world, and he set about taking steps to join
up. He stuffed himself on bananas to gain enough weight, he stretched as
straight as he could to appear taller, he talked his father into signing
papers to allow him to enlist (boys were considered mature at a younger
age back then), and he found the Navy recruiting office.
At age
eighteen, when most boys are just graduating from high school , Harlie
Gillespie was an honorably discharged Navy veteran having attained the
rank of seaman second class. He served on the USS St. Louis,which
accompanied President Woodrow Wilson's ship to France to sign the peace
in 1919. We always teased him about meeting the "Mademoiselle from
Armentiers," and did he "parlez vous"? He would laugh with us. Many
years later Congressman Jake Pickle located and sent Dad a picture of
the St. Louis which remains among the family treasures.
Harlie was a charter member of the first American Legion post
established by Dallas veterans following World War I. He moved to Austin
in 1934, and in 1942 watched his son march off to war to serve as a
Marine fighter pilot through World War II and the Korean Conflict. The
Great War unfortunately did not end all wars. The Legion members lobbied
with great fortitude for the G.I. Bill so that young veterans returning
from World War II would have benefits to help them get started in
civilian life once more.
And sixty years after World War I, here
Harlie stood on the LBJ Library plaza, in sight of the gleaming
University of Texas tower, under his beloved Texas sky, enjoying a
moment of recognition and gratitude from his state and his nation for
being the youngest living World War I veteran at that time, a
heartwarming tribute for service rendered by a young man, so fresh from
boyhood, so many years ago.
Dad died of a sudden heart attack
just a few months following that ceremony. I never see the LBJ Library
plaza without seeing it peopled and adorned with flags and bands and
Lady Bird Johnson, and a few proud old veterans, including my dad.
Shirley Gillespie Hull
Austin, Texas
Published:
November 14,
2005
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