MARINES CAST GIANT SHADOWS

MARINES CAST GIANT SHADOWS
By Andy Weddington
Tuesday, 29 May 2018

Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind. Nathaniel Hawthorne

Yesterday sitting on a porch glider and staring at barely moving half-staffed flags came to mind a World War II Marine - whom came to my attention while researching Navy Pharmacist Mate Second Class Thomas J. Murphy of Hamilton, Ohio. Assigned to a Marine unit, Petty Officer Murphy was killed on the first day of the Battle of Tarawa - 20 November 1943. Remains recently identified, he was interred yesterday morning. A Sailor I know, leading the honor detail, presented flags to two nieces during graveside military honors. 

To that Marine, what compelled Lyle E. Charpilloz of Silverton, Oregon, at age 15, to (fraudulently) enlist in the U. S. Marine Corps?

 PFC Lyle E. Charpilloz, USMC

What compelled his drill instructors and officers, who surely recognized he was not of age, to silence?

That he was able to do everything demanded of and expected of a Marine recruit? 

Tough training followed recruit training. He met the demands and expectations of a Marine. An infantryman, he was assigned to a Marine Division. 

He can hardly be called a kid anymore, though looking like one. 

Private First Class Charpilloz fought in the Battle of Guadalcanal (a more than six months fight - Aug '42 - Feb '43). 

At 16 a combat veteran - having seen and survived the worst of mankind.

The same day as Petty Officer Murphy, PFC Charpilloz was killed on Betio during the Battle of Tarawa. 

His remains, too, only recently identified and returned home to family for burial in Silverton early last month.

Seventy-five years in death and that young Marine casts a giant shadow. The Sailor, too. 

Two men from my youth in a small North Carolina then mostly a mill town came to mind.

Norman Lougee and William Cardella. 

Coach Lougee coached youth football. In a kid's eyes he was a loud, gruff, tough, demanding man who hated to lose. He walked with purpose and a swagger. He commanded respect. I played for a team that beat his team one Halloween night and will never forget it - he shook our hands with words of playing a great game.

Mister Cardella was the father of a school classmate. He was involved with his two sons schools - big sports booster. His demeanor was quieter than Coach Lougee's but, too, commanded respect. With some frequency I visited his home to play basketball and board games with his oldest son.

When a captain and home on leave during football season late '80s, my Dad and I drove over to our old town for a Friday night high school game. 

Coach Lougee was there. He recognized my Dad who reintroduced me. Shaking hands, coach spotted the Marine Corps emblem on my jacket and said, "Semper Fi." "Semper Fi, Coach." 

A Marine, he fought in World War II and Korea. 

I had no idea. What a conversation for about 20 minutes. Mostly I listened in awe. Flashing back to youth football days, he now made perfect sense. Knowing drill instructors, he was probably a drill instructor. 

We shook hands. Never saw him again. 

Coach Lougee (Norman Hastings Jr.) died in April 2011 at age 82. Born in December 1928, like Charpilloz, he was a kid when he enlisted.

  

 Norman Hastings Lougee, Jr. 

Mister Cardella (William "Bill") was a Marine (coming to my attention after his death in October 2014 at age 93). He, a radioman, fought in World War II. Though his sons (not veterans) know little, in all probability he worked with Navajo Code Talkers. 

William Cardella

He never mentioned being a Marine. And I do not remember any service memorabilia displayed in their home. 

Regrettable to not have talked with him before death. 

I know not particulars of either Marine's military decorations for obituaries only briefly mentioned military service. Yet these men, these Marines, cast giant shadows. 

Their impact on me and the boys of our town then unquestionable -  today immeasurable.

These Marines lived less than a mile from one another. My family within a mile of both. 

Leaving the porch glider to get along with the day I wondered how many other men of our small town had served but the boys did not know - but sensed something different about these men; they set example, they taught, they led.

For them, I am better. And also for playing for another veteran coach (Dad). 

This morning after Memorial Day blue sky, sun shine, and flags fly high; there's long cast shadows.

Time flies over us. Yes, Mr. Hawthorne, it surely does. But, thankfully, we have a generation of men (and women) who in 50 years today's youth will remember for giant shadows left behind.