July
16, 1945
Off
Okinawa
Dearest
Fayne,
I
know I should have written before but somehow I just couldn't till
I was able to say what I am going to in this letter. I wanted to try
and write something that might bring some comfort to you. It hurt
knowing that you were waiting to hear from me.
To
go on with what I have to say. Day before yesterday I was taken over
to the island so that I could go to Sheldon's grave. I got instructions
how to find it from the Island Commander and then rode in a jeep about
the island before finding it. When I got there — well this is just what
I saw and did — I think it will be easier to picture it as it was — the
jeep stopped and I got out, thanked the driver, and then looked down
upon it awhile. I noticed the hills on either side of it — how green
they are and seem so much at peace. I looked at the cemetery itself — saw
what nice even rows the crosses were in — saw the white picket fence.
I went down to the shelter which is built over the stone which bears
the inscriptions on it but it was still covered with canvas. The shelter
itself is of natural wood color and the roof is the same. There was
a flag flying at half-mast. I saw several men with garden tools loosening
the ground so as to plant over the graves. I started to walk into
the cemetery but stopped to ask one of the men if there was an alphabetical
list. He said no, that I would have to go to the other end of the
grounds to see the Lieutenant since it hadn't been finished for mounting
as yet. I walked around the edge near the fence towards his quarters,
reading the names on each one of the little white crosses next to
the fence. I was afraid for what I might see and yet I couldn't take
my eyes away from them. I finally reached the end and I must admit
that I had a rising surge in me — most of a voice — all this might be
a mistake — he may be only wounded, he mustn't be dead — but I knew I
was only working myself up. I asked for the Lieutenant and was shown
to his cabin and office — told him what I wanted and he said, "I
didn't remember having the name on the check list but I'll look through
for you." Again I had that surge — we looked through and it wasn't
there. Then one of the men told him that, "he was the fellow
we had a hard time trying to get the name right on — look in the Mcs."
So we did and found it McComber, S.C. — and all the rest — row 29 number
17. I wrote down the details on it from his record. Place: near Yonabaru
airfield (that's near Naha town) — killed in action — by: shrapnel — no
personal effects on body — 2 identification tags on string about neck.
He
told me that it was at the time they were having a hard time cracking
a Jap line supported by artillery. The boys could do nothing but lie
there and wait till we moved up heavy artillery to knock out the Japs'
artillery — there were many lost that day.
They
were going through the personal effects of those lost on that date
but hadn't come to his as yet. By the way, they have your address
as at North Platte, so they will most likely send them there. I went
down to the gateway halfway down along the side fence and entered
there — it started with the 19th row. I walked along counting
to myself until I came to 29. Then since the graves numbered from
the left hand, I walked along slowly glancing at the names — afraid
I had mixed up in the count of the rows. Then I saw the cross with
S.C. McComber on it and all the blankness and awful feeling came back
to me of that day — 21st of June that I received the message.
I
didn't know what to do, I just wanted to sit down and be alone. I
guess I stood there for quite a while not trying to hold back the
tears. After I got a hold of myself I knelt there and prayed. I don't
remember everything I said — in fact very little. I don't remember how
long I was there — it didn't seem as though there was such a thing as
time, it was all blank. I remember praying that he be granted his
wishes — that Terry and Tommy grow up the way he would want, that somehow,
someday they would be able to understand. I prayed that God would
give you the blessings of the angels — that you might be guided in bringing
Terry and Tommy up, that somehow you could find happiness in them
and the world now that he is gone. I prayed for Mother and Dad — I said
a prayer for everyone. As I said I did not realize any length of time — I
was numb. I remember how hot the sun was on my head — I guess that accounts
for the sunburn where my hair is thin, since my hat was in my mouth
and hands. I went back up to the Lieutenant's quarters and asked a
few questions. They told me to write to his commanding officer and
maybe I could learn more about it, so I'm going to do it.
I
came back to the ship and tried to write to you but couldn't — tried
again last night but couldn't. It just didn't sound right. This one
doesn't either, but I'll have to send it because I can't do it any
better. I hope, Fayne, that I haven't hurt you. I hope that I have
made it clear to you what it was like. I hope that I've made it easier
for you and relieved you a bit. Sheldon was my brother — I loved him
very much, more than I can say. He was my idol — sort of. I've always
wanted to be like him. I loved him and now that he isn't here, I love
the thought of him. I love you Fayne — I do so very much. I can't tell
you in any different words how I feel. I love Tommy and Terry as if
they were my own. I have often laid in bed and dreamed that someday
I might have two like them. I guess this is all I can say Fayne. It's
up to you now, Fayne, you have the road to go alone, but you have
Sheldon's memory and his spirit in your and his children. Kindle that
spirit and have it glow in them. Someday they will be much older and
they must be the good citizens he and you planned them to be and have
the right place in life. It's you who has to do it all now, but if
you look to God and Sheldon for guidance, you can make it.
I
hope, as I said before, I have made it a bit easier for you. I must
go now. I will try to write soon and oftener. God bless you and Terry
and Tommy — may his light shine upon you.
Your
loving Brother,
Stan
