We need to remember those who gave everything for us.
My uncle went missing 83 years ago today after a mission to Rendova, flying out of Guadalcanal. The Japanese had taken advantage of bad weather to mount air attacks on our landings at Rendova, so the Marine Corsairs at Guadalcanal flew to protect the landings. Bad weather did ensue and my uncle disappeared in a thunderstorm. He had already shot down a Zero, being the first in his squadron (VMF-213) to get a kill. My uncle started at A&M in 1938 but dropped out after his first flight lesson in order to become a full-time pilot. He enlisted immediately after Pearl Harbor to become a Marine pilot.
A drawing of him after his graduation from Marine flight school:
A picture of him in front of his Corsair at Guadalcanal. He named her the San Antonio Rose after my grandmother. She was living in San Antonio with my grandfather, who was then the Provost Marshall of San Antonio.
A watercolor of my uncle climbing into the cockpit of his Corsair prior to his last mission. The painting was made on July 3, 1943, by a naval lieutenant who was serving on Guadalcanal as an intelligence officer. He named in "Thunder Head" because the squadron told him the pilot had been lost in a thunderstorm. His family tracked me down and unbelievably graciously gave our family the painting.
A couple of years ago a geneticist hired by the Marines tracked me down to ensure that I was in fact related to my uncle. That was followed by a request for DNA samples by the Marine Corps, which I provided. Although there's been essentially silence since then, it has raised hopes. I would love nothing more than to be able to bury some portion of my uncle's remains, or something from him, in the grave site reserved for him next to his parents and brothers in our family cemetery in Texas. My grandmother never gave up hope that her oldest baby would someday be found.
My uncle went missing 83 years ago today after a mission to Rendova, flying out of Guadalcanal. The Japanese had taken advantage of bad weather to mount air attacks on our landings at Rendova, so the Marine Corsairs at Guadalcanal flew to protect the landings. Bad weather did ensue and my uncle disappeared in a thunderstorm. He had already shot down a Zero, being the first in his squadron (VMF-213) to get a kill. My uncle started at A&M in 1938 but dropped out after his first flight lesson in order to become a full-time pilot. He enlisted immediately after Pearl Harbor to become a Marine pilot.
A drawing of him after his graduation from Marine flight school:
A picture of him in front of his Corsair at Guadalcanal. He named her the San Antonio Rose after my grandmother. She was living in San Antonio with my grandfather, who was then the Provost Marshall of San Antonio.
A watercolor of my uncle climbing into the cockpit of his Corsair prior to his last mission. The painting was made on July 3, 1943, by a naval lieutenant who was serving on Guadalcanal as an intelligence officer. He named in "Thunder Head" because the squadron told him the pilot had been lost in a thunderstorm. His family tracked me down and unbelievably graciously gave our family the painting.
A couple of years ago a geneticist hired by the Marines tracked me down to ensure that I was in fact related to my uncle. That was followed by a request for DNA samples by the Marine Corps, which I provided. Although there's been essentially silence since then, it has raised hopes. I would love nothing more than to be able to bury some portion of my uncle's remains, or something from him, in the grave site reserved for him next to his parents and brothers in our family cemetery in Texas. My grandmother never gave up hope that her oldest baby would someday be found.
