Guest Article: Stolen Valor, Part 2: “Wayne and Earl – and Their Families”

Here’s the second increment of Wesley’s work.  Once again:  high quality stuff.  (If you missed the first part, it follow this link to read it.)

You might want to grab a tissue before you start reading.  However, if your family has suffered a recent loss, or you’re having a particularly bad day – maybe you might want to read it later.  Ditto if you have blood pressure issues and are having a bad day on that front.

And Wesley – consider talking to Jonn about becoming a contributor to TAH.  Your work really is damned good.
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Stolen Valor
Part 2:  Wayne and Earl – and Their Families
by Wesley Wilson 

Wayne’s Family

AOAN David Wayne Cornell was killed serving his Country on January 31, 1988. He was on the USS Coral Sea CV-43. He was following orders that ended up costing him his life. There was nothing heroic about his death. I am sure that when he woke up that morning that last thing he thought was I could die today, but he did.

 

Because we were in a very bad storm, it took several days to get his body off the ship. I still think about the pilots that at great risk landed a COD to pick up his body. He was flown home to Cairo, WV, and buried with full honors. His loss was mourned by the town and his friends but in time life returned to normal. Except for his family. They got military honors, some SGLI insurance, the gratitude of a grateful Nation, and a folded flag. Hardly worth the life of a Son, Brother and Uncle that his nieces and nephews will only know from a picture on the wall and stories about him. Their life was and never will be the way it was.

He died on January 31st, the same day his youngest sister turned 14. He was buried on February 11th, two day before his Mom’s 42nd birthday. He was 21 years old. He has been dead longer than he lived, his family still morns his loss.  His grave marker has the Coral Sea‘s logo on the back with the words “Dedicated by Family and Shipmates of the USS Coral Sea”. There is also a flag pole at his grave site that his aging Father maintains. A Navy Flag flies from it year round.

 

His family wonders everyday what could have been, they wonder what his life would have been like. They wonder if he would have stayed in the Navy or gotten out and returned home. They wonder what his wife and kids would have been like. To them his loss is as painful today as it was 26 years ago. His Mom lost her voice after hearing she had lost her son. She did not speak a word for 9 months. His youngest sister lost the only person who had ever defended her. To her he was and still is her Hero.

This family could have easily hated the Navy, the Government and everything that goes with it. They don’t. His sister’s house has Navy knickknacks in almost every room. His parents’ home has a very large wall hanging with his image on it. His Navy and high school pictures are on every wall. They are proud.  The pride in some ways fills the void. His 7 year old nephew says he wants to join the Navy when he grows up. It scares the hell out of his Mom, but she will let him go and be proud of his choice, after all it’s in his blood.

I see how these guys that pretend to have served affect this family. I see how they react to the false tales of heroism and bravado. I see the pain that is caused by the fake warrior talking about his fake PTSD. I know that they want to scream to them, “I have relived that day he died ten thousand times”. They want to let them know about the nights of lost sleep that still happen. The nightmares. The vacant place in their hearts that can’t be filled. The moments of stray thought during the day when they wonder what if he had lived.

They see the fakes with the fake medals, they think our boy didn’t get a medal. All he did was die for his country. They see the Media hoopla that surrounds the military now, but their boy died in the peacetime Navy. The same one that has been going to sea, peace or war, for 236 years.  They feel stolen from and forgotten.

We tend to think that when a soldier or sailor is killed that the mourning ends when the flags returns to full staff. The reality is it never stops. When anyone fakes military service they steal from every family who every lost a service member that was just doing his job.

Earl’s Family

I have an old suitcase. It’s not unlike tens of thousands that were made in the 30 and 40s. Just a beaten worn grey suitcase. What it contains is a man’s life, all that remains to show that there was once a man named Earl H. Wilson, 2nd Lt, Army Air Corps. He was killed on May 1st, 1945.  Some 23 years before I was born.  He was and is my uncle.

 

Earl flew P-38s, he was stationed on Attu Island in Alaska, we all know that the war was pretty much over in that part of the world at that time but they still flew every day.  He took off on what was supposed to be a patrol, his engine sputtered and he crashed into the sea.  My Grandparents received a telegram.  My other two serving uncles were notified. One had been on Iwo Jima and was going to Okinawa. The other was a flight instructor for P-38s.  They both wrote long letters home, to end up in the suitcase.

Over the next few weeks his belongings were returned to his parents, letters from his Chaplin, CO, friends. etc . . . , followed. They were all put in his suitcase. One of the things also in that suitcase was a banner. It had 3 Blue Stars. My Grandmother took gold yarn and turned one of those blue stars gold.  After a period of months his body was recovered and returned home to Memphis, TN. He is buried in the National Cemetery in Memphis. His flag was put in the suitcase, the suitcase was put in the attic where it remained until 1974 when my Grandmother died. My Uncle took it when the house was cleaned out. It was given to me by my uncle when my father died. We opened it and my Uncle and I went through Earl’s belonging and letters that were sent. To him the pain was a fresh as if it had just happened. To me it was getting to know a man I had only heard about.

I don’t know much about Earl’s military awards. I have his log book from training. I have his instrument certification. I have pictures of his training classes. I have his little black book (yep he had one).  I used to have his wings, they were stolen from me years ago.  I have attempted at different times to obtain his records. They were among those that were destroyed in the fire at the records center.

He had 4 living brothers and one sister. His family had suffered greatly during the depression, He was the second oldest and before Joining the Army he worked for the railroad as a boiler maker.  He was a boxer of minor fame in the Memphis area. He was a Boy Scout and wanted to become a minister after the war.   He was by all account typical of the greatest generation.  He died doing his job.

My Uncle James, who was also in the Army Air Corps, told me about my Grandparents receiving bills for months after Earl’s death. Bills for goods or services that they knew were fake. He told of the low life that would show up and claim to have known Earl, only to try and con my Grandparents out of money.  He spoke of my Grandmother’s resentment as men that had served returned home, they made it, her son didn’t. She had grown so distrustful of anyone in uniform that she doubted everyone.

There is no one left alive that I know of that knew Earl.  I go to his grave site when I am in that area and leave flowers.  He died serving his Country.  My Father rarely spoke of him. My Uncle James (who was also in the Army Air Corps) would answer questions when asked.  He made a comment shortly before he died when I was talking to him about my Uncle Charles. He said it seemed to him that after the war there were a lot more Marines that had fought on Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima than could have possibly been there.  He knows Charles was there but he would never talk about it.

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Every day on this site and others we see a new phony.  They pretend to be something they are not. We see con men that prey on Veterans and their families.  We see fake Purple Hearts, Silver Stars – the list is endless. Every one of the fakes steals from men like Wayne and Earl.  In almost every cemetery there is a grave like Wayne’s or Earl’s. Some long forgotten, some visited every day by a Gold Star Family.

These two men were born decades apart they have a lot in common. They were both little more than boys, they were both idealistic. They both came from poor backgrounds but had faith in our nation.  They both died doing their job. They both have families that never forgot.

They both need a voice.

Category: Military issues, Reality Check, Veterans Issues