Post by Okwes on Nov 27, 2006 11:42:13 GMT -5
Dead Korean War veteran finally honored
By Nick Sambides Jr.
Friday, November 10, 2006 - Bangor Daily News
By Nick Sambides Jr.
Bangor Daily News
The whitewashed crosses slanted at irregular angles toward a pale gray sky. They dotted the landscape in the Micmac Indian graveyard in Eel Ground, New Brunswick, among the polished smooth granite stones like ragged ketches scattered by a fleet of yachts.
Clarence J. Patley, March 28, 1947-March 2, 2000 … Debra Jean Ward, October 25, 1972-June 9, 1997.
There are class distinctions even in death. Some of the more elaborate marble gravestones had detailed, loving inscriptions — a few even had photographs etched into them — but the white crosses were bereft of such elaboration. Most had names and dates of death painted on them. A few were bare.
Cpl. Elmer Batles, November 30, 1973 ... Wilburn R. Harper Jr., July 11, 1960-April 1, 1985 … Bruce W. Barnaby, 1957-1998.
One gravestone was freshly planted, and a middle-aged woman smiled Wednesday as a contingent of U.S. and Canadian soldiers gathered near it. She looked to her left at the old marker cast aside against a chain-link fence, the only one in the cemetery made from a rough tree trunk with its details carved crudely into it. Blackened with age, the name was difficult to read.
Joseph "Bucksaw" Simonson, March 8, 1934-November 25, 1995.
"You should have seen it when it was first done. It was in such good shape," the woman, Florence Paul, called out happily with a singsong Canadian lilt. "I told my husband, ‘Cut me a slab because my Uncle Joe, he don’t have a marker.’ He loved the woods."
"He must have died of a heart attack," recalled Dorothy Francis, his niece. "He was in his bed when they found him. He was well-built, and he loved to ride his bicycle every day to Tim Hortons for coffee, but he just fried and boiled everything."
"There was not an ounce of fat on him, but he did," Paul said. "A lot of the old folks ate that way."
The fresh gravestone was newly white and polished almost to a shine. Its etchings were deep and easy to read.
Joseph P. Simonson, CPL, US Army, Korea. Mar 7, 1933-Nov 25, 1995. MICMAC.
The marker and accompanying flag-folding ceremony on Wednesday took 11 years to arrive.
‘He never talked about it’
All honorably discharged veterans are entitled to a marker and a flag-folding ceremony provided by the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs. The ceremony features two uniformed service members and, if available, a bugler, said Peter Duston, a service officer with American Legion Narraguagus Post No. 8 of Cherryfield, which, with assistance from a Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer and a Royal Canadian Air Force officer, provided Simonson’s honor guard and ceremony.
But exactly why it took 11 years for Simonson to get his due is a mystery.
To Lloyd "Catfish" Ginnish, a historian for the Micmac, or Natoaganeg (Eel Ground) First Nation, the answer is a mix of institutionalized racism and inefficient bureaucracy among the U.S. and Canadian military and veterans services. Micmacs have dual citizenship and can serve in both countries.
"We’re basically citizens of North America," Ginnish said.
In his American Indian history paper, "The Forgotten Warriors," Ginnish wrote that more than 7,000 First Nations people who volunteered to serve in the U.S. services — and 1,200 natives who served Canadian services — during World War I, World War II and the Korean War faced heavy discrimination upon their return home.
At the time, many Canadian Indians lost their "Indian rights" as a result of their enlistments, Ginnish wrote, and also couldn’t vote in federal or provincial elections. Nor could they buy alcohol in liquor stores or be served in taverns.
"They could fight for the country, but couldn’t vote for the head of the country," Ginnish wrote.
Indian agents often neglected to tell returning Indian veterans what their rights and benefits were, and Veterans Affairs record-keeping was often sloppy, Ginnish and Duston said.
A well-known carpenter, lumberjack and woodsman among Micmacs, Simonson served in the U.S. Army from 1953 to 1955, making him a Korean War veteran. He joined the service in York, Maine, and served mostly at Fort Riley in Kansas as a mortar operator and gunner.
His Army record indicates good, solid service, as Simonson was promoted from private to private first class before mustering out as a corporal, Duston said. Ginnish and Duston place Simonson among those Indians who faced discrimination and never received the benefits they were due.
"The native people are basically neglected by society, really," Duston said.
"If you have a full, all-expenses-paid funeral, then the funeral parlor or director would see that veterans get offered honors or order a veteran’s marker," Duston added. "But if you are poor and a Native American or living in a foreign country such as Canada, or unless somebody is advocating for you or knows what you’re entitled to, you won’t get anything."
Capt. Kevin Anderson of the Royal Canadian Air Force, who stood in Simonson’s honor guard with RCMP Constable and Micmac Brad McMillan, agreed.
"Neither the American nor the Canadian armed forces have a good track record with aboriginal peoples," Anderson said. "But we’re working on it."
Family members say that Simonson never pursued veterans benefits nor discussed the Army. His sudden death at such a young age, 61 — they believe the Army’s date of birth for Simonson is inaccurate — precluded his making a will or funeral arrangements.
"He never talked about it, his time in the Army, never mentioned it at all," Francis said. "And nobody here knew he was entitled to anything from the U.S. He wasn’t in the Canadian Army, eh?"
Only a photo as a clue
Simonson would not have a new gravestone if not for his cousin Hector Pictou, who approached Duston at an American Legion bean supper in Cherryville in August 2004. Pictou told Duston about Simonson and asked whether he could get him recognition for his service.
Duston needed a DD-214 Form, a report of armed services separation, to get Simonson his due. Many such service records were lost in a Veterans Administration office fire in St. Louis in the 1970s, Duston said, and all Pictou had was a copy of a picture of the young Simonson in uniform.
So, with a yen for mysteries and almost 30 years of Army service as a first lieutenant and master sergeant, Duston worked his only clue like a detective. At a glance he saw that Simonson was a Korean War-era infantryman, he said.
"You see that rope he’s wearing on his shoulder? That makes him infantry," Duston said as he looked at the copied photo. "And you see that dark stripe on his shoulder? This is a World War II or Korea-era veteran. By Vietnam, that stripe had become gold and green."
Simonson was wearing a long-sleeved khaki shirt with epaulets sewn into the shoulders and a brass collar insignia that was slightly curved, all fashions unique to the 1950s or discontinued by the 1960s, Duston said.
With a specific time range narrowing his search parameters, Duston contacted Veterans Affairs offices in Michigan and Missouri, but found nothing. Knowing that Maine’s VA record-keeping is among the best in the nation, he tried that, and on Oct. 27, 2004, found Simonson’s DD-214.
A lesson of history
About 100 Micmacs came to the reservation church, including a class of third-graders, to hear Tribal Chief George Ginnish eulogize Simonson and discuss Indian servicemen in honor of Veterans Day in the U.S. and its Canadian counterpart, Remembrance Day. He and other speakers talked about how 27,000 Canadians served during the Korean War as part of the United Nations contingent.
Ginnish compared "Bucksaw Joe," as he was known, to Cpl. Michael Seeley, 27, of Fredericton, a Canadian Micmac who was serving with the U.S. Army in Iraq when he was killed by insurgents south of Baghdad on Monday.
"They do what they feel is the right thing to do. To them, protecting your homeland is a given," Ginnish said.
Duston told attendees that he was honored to have helped get Simonson his due.
"It has been a long time coming," he said. "I am a man of conscience, and I am glad to be here today."
Duston and other American Legion members promised to do whatever was necessary to honor other forgotten veterans like Simonson, a promise Lloyd Ginnish will help them keep. At least two other Micmac Indians are buried on the reservation without proper honors, he said.
And Simonson’s family was pleased.
"I am happy," Dorothy Francis said. "Now he has a nice headstone. He deserves it."
By Nick Sambides Jr.
Friday, November 10, 2006 - Bangor Daily News
By Nick Sambides Jr.
Bangor Daily News
The whitewashed crosses slanted at irregular angles toward a pale gray sky. They dotted the landscape in the Micmac Indian graveyard in Eel Ground, New Brunswick, among the polished smooth granite stones like ragged ketches scattered by a fleet of yachts.
Clarence J. Patley, March 28, 1947-March 2, 2000 … Debra Jean Ward, October 25, 1972-June 9, 1997.
There are class distinctions even in death. Some of the more elaborate marble gravestones had detailed, loving inscriptions — a few even had photographs etched into them — but the white crosses were bereft of such elaboration. Most had names and dates of death painted on them. A few were bare.
Cpl. Elmer Batles, November 30, 1973 ... Wilburn R. Harper Jr., July 11, 1960-April 1, 1985 … Bruce W. Barnaby, 1957-1998.
One gravestone was freshly planted, and a middle-aged woman smiled Wednesday as a contingent of U.S. and Canadian soldiers gathered near it. She looked to her left at the old marker cast aside against a chain-link fence, the only one in the cemetery made from a rough tree trunk with its details carved crudely into it. Blackened with age, the name was difficult to read.
Joseph "Bucksaw" Simonson, March 8, 1934-November 25, 1995.
"You should have seen it when it was first done. It was in such good shape," the woman, Florence Paul, called out happily with a singsong Canadian lilt. "I told my husband, ‘Cut me a slab because my Uncle Joe, he don’t have a marker.’ He loved the woods."
"He must have died of a heart attack," recalled Dorothy Francis, his niece. "He was in his bed when they found him. He was well-built, and he loved to ride his bicycle every day to Tim Hortons for coffee, but he just fried and boiled everything."
"There was not an ounce of fat on him, but he did," Paul said. "A lot of the old folks ate that way."
The fresh gravestone was newly white and polished almost to a shine. Its etchings were deep and easy to read.
Joseph P. Simonson, CPL, US Army, Korea. Mar 7, 1933-Nov 25, 1995. MICMAC.
The marker and accompanying flag-folding ceremony on Wednesday took 11 years to arrive.
‘He never talked about it’
All honorably discharged veterans are entitled to a marker and a flag-folding ceremony provided by the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs. The ceremony features two uniformed service members and, if available, a bugler, said Peter Duston, a service officer with American Legion Narraguagus Post No. 8 of Cherryfield, which, with assistance from a Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer and a Royal Canadian Air Force officer, provided Simonson’s honor guard and ceremony.
But exactly why it took 11 years for Simonson to get his due is a mystery.
To Lloyd "Catfish" Ginnish, a historian for the Micmac, or Natoaganeg (Eel Ground) First Nation, the answer is a mix of institutionalized racism and inefficient bureaucracy among the U.S. and Canadian military and veterans services. Micmacs have dual citizenship and can serve in both countries.
"We’re basically citizens of North America," Ginnish said.
In his American Indian history paper, "The Forgotten Warriors," Ginnish wrote that more than 7,000 First Nations people who volunteered to serve in the U.S. services — and 1,200 natives who served Canadian services — during World War I, World War II and the Korean War faced heavy discrimination upon their return home.
At the time, many Canadian Indians lost their "Indian rights" as a result of their enlistments, Ginnish wrote, and also couldn’t vote in federal or provincial elections. Nor could they buy alcohol in liquor stores or be served in taverns.
"They could fight for the country, but couldn’t vote for the head of the country," Ginnish wrote.
Indian agents often neglected to tell returning Indian veterans what their rights and benefits were, and Veterans Affairs record-keeping was often sloppy, Ginnish and Duston said.
A well-known carpenter, lumberjack and woodsman among Micmacs, Simonson served in the U.S. Army from 1953 to 1955, making him a Korean War veteran. He joined the service in York, Maine, and served mostly at Fort Riley in Kansas as a mortar operator and gunner.
His Army record indicates good, solid service, as Simonson was promoted from private to private first class before mustering out as a corporal, Duston said. Ginnish and Duston place Simonson among those Indians who faced discrimination and never received the benefits they were due.
"The native people are basically neglected by society, really," Duston said.
"If you have a full, all-expenses-paid funeral, then the funeral parlor or director would see that veterans get offered honors or order a veteran’s marker," Duston added. "But if you are poor and a Native American or living in a foreign country such as Canada, or unless somebody is advocating for you or knows what you’re entitled to, you won’t get anything."
Capt. Kevin Anderson of the Royal Canadian Air Force, who stood in Simonson’s honor guard with RCMP Constable and Micmac Brad McMillan, agreed.
"Neither the American nor the Canadian armed forces have a good track record with aboriginal peoples," Anderson said. "But we’re working on it."
Family members say that Simonson never pursued veterans benefits nor discussed the Army. His sudden death at such a young age, 61 — they believe the Army’s date of birth for Simonson is inaccurate — precluded his making a will or funeral arrangements.
"He never talked about it, his time in the Army, never mentioned it at all," Francis said. "And nobody here knew he was entitled to anything from the U.S. He wasn’t in the Canadian Army, eh?"
Only a photo as a clue
Simonson would not have a new gravestone if not for his cousin Hector Pictou, who approached Duston at an American Legion bean supper in Cherryville in August 2004. Pictou told Duston about Simonson and asked whether he could get him recognition for his service.
Duston needed a DD-214 Form, a report of armed services separation, to get Simonson his due. Many such service records were lost in a Veterans Administration office fire in St. Louis in the 1970s, Duston said, and all Pictou had was a copy of a picture of the young Simonson in uniform.
So, with a yen for mysteries and almost 30 years of Army service as a first lieutenant and master sergeant, Duston worked his only clue like a detective. At a glance he saw that Simonson was a Korean War-era infantryman, he said.
"You see that rope he’s wearing on his shoulder? That makes him infantry," Duston said as he looked at the copied photo. "And you see that dark stripe on his shoulder? This is a World War II or Korea-era veteran. By Vietnam, that stripe had become gold and green."
Simonson was wearing a long-sleeved khaki shirt with epaulets sewn into the shoulders and a brass collar insignia that was slightly curved, all fashions unique to the 1950s or discontinued by the 1960s, Duston said.
With a specific time range narrowing his search parameters, Duston contacted Veterans Affairs offices in Michigan and Missouri, but found nothing. Knowing that Maine’s VA record-keeping is among the best in the nation, he tried that, and on Oct. 27, 2004, found Simonson’s DD-214.
A lesson of history
About 100 Micmacs came to the reservation church, including a class of third-graders, to hear Tribal Chief George Ginnish eulogize Simonson and discuss Indian servicemen in honor of Veterans Day in the U.S. and its Canadian counterpart, Remembrance Day. He and other speakers talked about how 27,000 Canadians served during the Korean War as part of the United Nations contingent.
Ginnish compared "Bucksaw Joe," as he was known, to Cpl. Michael Seeley, 27, of Fredericton, a Canadian Micmac who was serving with the U.S. Army in Iraq when he was killed by insurgents south of Baghdad on Monday.
"They do what they feel is the right thing to do. To them, protecting your homeland is a given," Ginnish said.
Duston told attendees that he was honored to have helped get Simonson his due.
"It has been a long time coming," he said. "I am a man of conscience, and I am glad to be here today."
Duston and other American Legion members promised to do whatever was necessary to honor other forgotten veterans like Simonson, a promise Lloyd Ginnish will help them keep. At least two other Micmac Indians are buried on the reservation without proper honors, he said.
And Simonson’s family was pleased.
"I am happy," Dorothy Francis said. "Now he has a nice headstone. He deserves it."