This is a two part story. The first part deals with one of the principle functions of a WWII reunion. In this case a reunion of the 13th Armored Division. I had been in touch, shortly before attending, with a son of one of our veterans. The son had indicated that he couldn`t make it to the reunion, and he was seeking information about a father who was KIA with us in the Battle of the Ruhr Pocket, when he was only three. He really had no memories of his dad. At reunions we deal in memories. We talk about what we did 70 years ago. The urge to share memories with that son smacked me full in the face.
I thought, ” why don’t I take the reunion to him?” I actually never knew his dad, but I knew a lot of the same guys he knew. Ate with them in the mess halls. Drank beer with them. Shipped out with them, and shared combat with them. I, along with everyone else who was there, shared the same memories. Enough so that they could provide a background of memories that would match those of his, never to have been experienced, dad.
I had written a story a year earlier and it was printed in the Summer Issue of the Black Cat, our divisional newsletter. It was called “Crossings and Connections as Black Cats Gather”. It was about a son of a veteran who came to our reunions, but never saw or knew his dad. Whose dad was KIA while he was just an infant. Shortly afterward I received an email from our reunion coordinator. It read:
I received the email below and wondered if you would be willing to speak with this son of a 59th vet. Like Ken Odgers, his father was killed during the war. He has been searching for information about the circumstances surrounding his father’s death and it seems your article in the last newsletter has given him hope that you may have information that might be helpful to him. I believe it would mean a lot to him to be able to talk to you.
A part of his email message to the coordinator, was that I had incorrectly spelled the name of the town where his dad, like Ken’s, was killed. I had spelled it Kempen, when it should have been Kemper. Further, his account of the action at Kemper that day had more substance than mine. He appeared to have done a lot of research from many sources, while my recollections were very, very vague, to say the least. Maybe it was the horrific chaos that was exploding all around me, because I really didn`t remember a lot. My memories were so traumatized that all I remembered is that it was hell, and we lost a lot of people. A lot of good friends.
Anyway, I got in touch with Ron, apologized for my error, and he sent .me the following email:
Good morning Mr. Whelan,
So nice to hear from you. First, let me thank you for your past military service. You should be very proud of what you and others experienced during those terrible years. I am extremely proud of my Dad who answered the call.
Now, for a short profile on me.
My name, of course, is Ronald E. Briggs born 8/10/42. My Dad went into service in April “44 and was kia in April of “45.
I was almost 3 years old and have no memory of him at all. From Ft. Dix to went to Camp Wheeler, Ga. (near Macon.) Then onto Camp Bowie, Tx. and then in Jan. “44 to Europe.
I have been married for 47 years to my wife Anita (retired school teacher.)
We have two children, Thomas E. Briggs II (named after my Dad) and Robert W. Briggs named after my wife’s dad. Tom is a elementary school teacher in the Fulton School System and son Robert is an Elementary Principal in Mexico, N.Y.Over the years, I have been fortunate enough to talk to 13th. Arm. Div. members and in particular 59th veterans. Every correspondence gives me more info. On trying to clear up the sketchy details surrounding that fateful day. I have a letter that was written to my mother by a soldier that was with him when he was hit. It was 2:30 pm on 13 April when his half- track came under fire. That, along with the map Clifford Vogt drew and his info. certainly cleared up a lot of questions that I had over the years.
Due to some medical problems I am not planning on the reunion in Sept. However, maybe sometime in the fall we could get together in Penfield for a visit and coffee. Fulton is just north of Syracuse.
Take care
Robert
and again thank you for your service.
The lesson I learned from all of this is that this year there was another child, who like Ken, never got to know his dad. All his life he had this huge hole in his heart. A needed memory, that never got to be made. In my mind, that’s what we do here. We deal in memories. That`s why we show up at reunions. So what do we talk about? We talk about what we did 70 years ago.
Memories…
The bonding and friendship I felt last year when I attended my Divisional Reunion filled a huge hole in my heart. It filled it at a time when I had just recently lost my best supporter. We don’t live on this planet alone. We have and need supporters. Ken found support here, as well. He has shown up for the third year in a row. Thereis something going on around here that is valuable, far beyond money or material property. The urge to share that with Ron smacked me full in the face.
So here is where the second part of this story comes in. After all of the email conversations, corrections, and apologies were made, I had a deep sense that another hole needed filling. Just like Ken’s, and to another extent, mine.
Ron had indicated that he couldn’t make it to the reunion. I only live a little over an hour away from his home. That is the least I can do for a son of a member of my very own A Company, 59th AIB.
At the reunion, when I went to the coordinator with my thoughts, she jumped on board and went right to work to help me out. She took over my feeble attempts create a memento for Ron. My intentions were to have each of the veteran’s present sign a little certificate saluting his father who was killed in the Ruhr Pocket on April 13, 1945. She had the expertise and resources to create a very appropriate document on her computer that I later took around to all the veterans for their signature. She designed a form which had the 13th AD logo at the top and appropriate wording and places for signatures that included where each veteran had served. A lot of 13th AD connections were embodied in that document and I felt it would be a good way for Ron to connect with some of the guys who were with his dad when he died. In that way a new memory would be put in place for Ron that would, in some sense, flesh out some memories of his dad. To be given a document that testifies to the connection that occurs between those who did what they did for their families and country. Hopefully, Ron, in receiving it, would be able to refill a small part of the huge hole in his heart. That was the intention.
When I returned home from the reunion, I contacted and made arrangements to meet with Ron and his wife. The purpose being to extend the connecting and supporting benefits of the reunion to them. On the 25th of September, I met with Ron and his wife Anita at a small (believe it or not German) restaurant about half way between our houses. Perhaps the best way to express what happened is to again refer to an email Ron sent to the coordinator. It went as follows:
Hi JoEllen,
Let me tell you about the nicest day I had today. My wife and I met Bob at a restaurant in Sodus, N.Y. which is half way between Penfield and Fulton. We met at 11:30am and finally left at 2:45pm. What a fantastic person he is.
We talked about everything under the sun, exchanged some 13th items and discussed all topics including some memorable reflections about his late wife. What a delightful precious man.As I told Bob, I have corresponded with other 13th men but never did I have the opportunity to actually sit down with one who was actually there. He took such an interest in my Dad that it really made me feel special.
I learned several new pieces of information about that fateful day and what the 13th, A Co. 59th was enduring. Also, it was nice to learn more facts about what was going on after the battle of the Ruhr Pocket.We plan on meeting again which I am anxiously looking forward to.
Thank you so much for putting me in touch with him. It was an experience
that I will never forget. It seemed to bring me closer to my Dad.Again, thanks.
Ron
My sense is that we actually did accomplish some of what we set out to do. I will be meeting with Ron and Anita in the near future and we will continue with our local version of the reunion.
I have copied a few pictures of our “mini-reunion” below, with brief explanations:
This picture is of Ron’s Dad – PFC Thomas E. Briggs (right in the center of the picture) taken in the summer of 1944 at Camp Bowie, Texas.
I made it by photographing and expanding a large wide angle photo that Captain Ford had made for us as a keepsake.
I had it framed and it hangs in a small room in my house. When I met with Ron and Anita, Ron found his dad’s picture, and I took it with my camera.
That is me at the upper left. The guy to my right was PFC Joe Granzier from Cleveland, Ohio. I don’t remember the other two guys.
I took this picture at the German Restaurant where we met on September 25, 2014 to do our mini-reunion. I am on the left, Ron Briggs in the middle and Anita Briggs on the right.
Please read the sequel to this story called Day is Done.