April
10, 1945
My
dear Mrs. Taylor,
I
have just received your letter of March 14 and will endeavor, within
my limitations, to fulfill your request. The task as all such must
be, is difficult but certainly not unpleasant in so far as it may
in some slight way ease your burden.
To
start at the beginning, Dr. Taylor reported aboard the latter part
of November as our regularly assigned medical officer. His cheery
disposition and love of talk made him an easy companion and friend
aboard ship. His recent experience with MTBs lent a certain amount
of mystery to him as most of us were untried in battle.
On
an evening or in spare moments, which in December were many, we spent
many long hours of shooting the bull and downing coffee. His greatest
pleasure out here seemed to be dallying with the tidbits and delicacies
which you seemed to provide continuously — and drinking endless cups
of coffee well interspersed with conversation.
At
these times inevitably the talk would at one time another turn around
you and your son — of his hopes, plans, dreams — of the little problems
of the past, of child-raising and without fail, his beaming pride
in his son and confidence in your training and rearing him that he
might be a better man than most.
We
argued over details, mingled remembrances both sad and gay, sedate
and racy, for he did enjoy life and the living thereof.
From
time to time, though, he cast a sort of premonition of things to come.
His duty he knew and there was never any shirking or fear in performing
it. Somehow, there seemed to be the feeling that luck had too long
been on his side and that this was the time. Often he spoke of premonitions
in his family — which may have contributed to that impression. He
knew our mission and knew the dangers involved; he was not afraid,
but he wasn't sure of returning. Just before we sailed he insisted
on getting off a power of attorney to you, something which he had
delayed for a long, long time.
We
had been underway for some days, had passed dangerously close to enemy
shores, had had numerous alerts. Nevertheless, it wasn't until the
day before we were to arrive at the far beach that any serious attacks
were made. During the day of January 12 there were alerts, several
bodies reported around and about us. The air patrol managed to keep
all except a few snoopers away. About 18:15 we were alerted and went
to general quarters, securing a few minutes later, but standing by
for evening quarters.
Six
Jap planes appeared, coming from Manila, about seventy miles to the
southeast. They circled and started their runs. For some unknown reason,
three of them decided to pick on the LST 778 — all the ships in the
very large convoy were firing, throwing an umbrella of tracers into
the already colorful sky of the China Sea. One plane was brought down
about twenty feet from our starboard side with fortunately very little
damage to us. Two others crashed nearby in flames.
Shortly
after the first plane crashed, it was reported to me that Dr. Taylor
had been seriously wounded by shrapnel. He was standing on the bridge
deck almost directly below me. The assigned stretcher bearers placed
him in a stretcher and removed him to the wardroom which is our main
battle dressing station. He personally directed this, having only
momentarily lost consciousness, if at all.
That
he was cognizant of his own condition was too evident to inquire about.
He knew that only a near miracle could save him. His legs were paralyzed,
multiple shrapnel wounds in the chest, abdomen and back with clear
evidence of internal hemorrhage.
He
spoke of you and your son with neither sadness nor worry. He would
miss you and knew that you would miss him. There seemed to be in his
mind a picture of peace and untold happiness which he would not destroy
for temporary reality because he felt that in you his son would find
everything which he desired that his and your son should have. That
he loved you deeply, you know so much better than I could ever know;
that he was sorry to leave you was a pure sorrow of parting unembittered
by worry or concern. That he could leave life without bitterness or
hysteria was the highest tribute that could be paid to his love for
you, confidence in you and esteem for you.
Finally,
he requested that I write you but all that he had to say was, "Good-bye."
He said you could take care of all else.
Blood
transfusions were given during the night; a doctor came on board early
the next morning. Dr. Taylor was either unconscious or heavily doped
at all times after about 0300 on the 13th when his veins
collapsed. We were unable to transfer him to a hospital ship until
about 1600 on the 13th. He dies on the x-ray table a little
after 1700 on the 13th.
Dr.
Causey of the LST 705, San Francisco was the doctor who came aboard
on the morning of the 13th. Lt. Fife spent an almost continuous
18 hours at his side and was responsible for his still being alive
when adequate medical aid was at hand.
The
autopsy revealed that in addition to the above wounds a 50-caliber
shell had exploded in the vicinity of his kidneys. Further findings
were a fractured spine, perforated bladder and kidney, multiple perforations
of the intestines.
Near
the little town of Lingagen, looking out towards the wide gulf whose
endless breakers roll on the white shores, palm fringed and
spotted here and there with the palm-shroud huts of fishermen, lies
your husband with many other brave men. They died not that we should
sorrow for them, but receive strength from their sacrifice and devotion
to make of this world for those who remain behind them that valley
of contentment which they always hoped to find here.
This
has been muddled and crude but perhaps somehow some few words here
or there may be the answer which you wish. I do hope that his things
have arrived. We tried to include everything which wouldn't spoil.
Some Christmas packages since received have been turned over to welfare.
Some were in bad shape; others I felt you would not mind our keeping.
The little candles decorate our table on festive occasions — a gentle
reminder of one absent.
Sincerely,
Glendal
T. Harper
