BIG BROTHER

James Harold Howard was born in 1921. He was almost twelve years old when my twin brother and I were born. It was when Harold turned eighteen, and I was only six years old, that I began to idolize Harold. He looked so big and strong in his military uniform. As I was just beginning to learn how to write, Harold could print words so beautifully. I just worshiped his abilities. That desire stuck with me for all of my life, as I too have printed rather than write cursive style.

Prior to 1939 Harold was a member of the “Hoozars” who met near Daffin Park in Savannah. At age 18 he joined the old Army Air Force in 1939 and was stationed at a number of bases such as “Avon Field” and “Maxwell Field”. When World War II broke out he and his entire crew was sent to Europe, where he served as a top turret gunner on a B-17 bomber. The entire crew, who departed from Hunter Air Force Base in Savannah, came to Harold’s family home for a farewell home cooked meal, prepared by my mother, prior to shipping out to Europe. As his plane departed the next day it flew over his parent’s home and waved its wings in a farewell gesture. After many missions his plane was shot down over Germany where he was wounded and held as a prisoner of war in Switzerland. On his second attempt he escaped, after almost six months in the POW camp. Using a very bad winter storm for cover, he found his way into Italy (with the help of the French underground) where he spent the rest of the war in a Hospital recovering from his wounds and frostbite of his feet. While he was held POW the dreaded telegram arrived at his parent’s home that he was “missing in action”. All attempts by his family to find out if he was still alive, or any facts of his whereabouts and condition, were a nightmare for the family. The Red Cross and the U. S. Government were of no help at all in finding him. The Salvation Army said they would try.

To obtain a better understanding, and the details of what Harold went through, I requested information from an expert archivist from the 8th Air Force Museum in Pooler, Ga. They reported the following: “He departed out of Savannah and went with the 15th AAF to Armandola, Italy. He was a tech sergeant, top turret gunner and a member of the 2nd BG, 429th BS. His pilot’s name was James E Heintz. His plane went down 3 August 1944 with 1 engine on fire that could not be feathered. Plane was B-17 #42-31655. He was identified by his “notify” list of Mrs. Virginia Lee Howard of 532 E 35th St, Savannah, GA! The records indicate he did not have to bail out and his injury consisted of bruised and strained shoulder muscles. He was in a POW camp, at Adelbodes, tried to escape, then put in Waueilermoos (one of the worst prisons in Switzerland) and on second attempt escaped from Switzerland in Jan. 1945. Returned to Cacerta, Italy. After a short stay he was shipped back to the U.S. Last notice of him in these papers was that he had been discharged and was working for a civilian airline co. as a mechanic somewhere in the South. He completed 18 missions”.

We give thanks to the Salvation Army who found him and reported his condition and whereabouts to the family. He was discharged as a Staff Sergeant on July 10, 1945 and received the “Purple Heart” as well as other awards for his war efforts. For years after the war Harold suffered greatly from the fact he was the only survivor of the crew of the B-17. His crew was like “Brothers” to him and he survived and they did not. This post war depression led him to heavy drinking for a while until he got his life back together with the help of an understanding and loving wife and the grace of God.

Harold worked for Southern Bell in Savannah after the war from 1945 until about 1948 when he was transferred to Brunswick, Ga. He worked as a supervisor over installation and repair of data equipment as well as PBX and Key. He loved to hunt and fish and would go fishing with any invitation. A very memorable fishing trip was to Valossa Bar (Valossa County, Florida) with close friends and Paul and Perry, his brothers. Pictures of this trip provide fond memories for me. He talked very little about the war but did tell anyone who would listen about the “hole-in-one” he had on the golf course. Golf was a sport suggested by his doctor to provide him exercise to help his heart condition.

General Douglas MacArthur once said: “O, Lord….build me a son whose goal will be high, a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men; one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past”.

Harold looked forward to the future, but struggled to forget the past. His goal was to grow even closer to his father and to experience his children grow into productive adults. Harold tried to forget the past, especially his painful experiences in World War II, but the next few years he would suffer the greatest losses of his life. He would live to see the death of three family members. Our father died in 1968, who he had grown close to in the last few years,  followed closely by the deaths of his only two children, who died in separate automobile accidents. Only six months after our father died, Jimmy, age 19, Harold’s son, was killed in an automobile accident. In 1970, only 22 months after his only son died, Janice, his only daughter, also died from injuries from another automobile accident. As I sat next to him in the funeral services for his son, Jimmy, I witnessed a soft sob as tears ran down his face. My heart ached for him. I had never seen him cry before! He has lost his only son, a son that had gone somewhat astray, but had recently got his act back together and his family was happier than ever. But now Jimmy was gone! He had now lost his only father and his only son. Janice’s death followed before he could come to grips with the other two deaths. Memories of his war experiences started coming back to haunt him. In his grief he was not the same after these three deaths, his future dreams and goals were shattered and he acted defeated, but never outwardly complained or looked for sympathy. He soon started experiencing chest pains and died in his sleep on October 28, 1972 from angina pectoris. He is buried in Glenn Rose Cemetery, Glenn County, Brunswick, Georgia, next to his two children. He was only 51 years old.

Harold was loved by all who knew him. He was, like our father, a kind and giving man. He worked hard and provided well for his family. His premature gray hair made him most handsome and his ready smile and his friendly nature endeared him to all who met him. He is greatly missed.

The loss of a brother is difficult to explain to those who have never had a brother they  looked up to, and is some small way worshiped. Harold was one of those. My grief would repeat again when my twin brother, Perry,  passed on to eternity long before he should have. It is difficult to explain this type of grief! God has given me the strength and love to endure!

“Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee; He shall never suffer the righteous to be moved.” Psalm 55:22