FORGOTTEN

My knowledge of my Uncle Doyle was sparse. I remembered him but a little. He was 19 when I was born and already headed to a life as a Marine. Therefore my awareness of him came from the few times he came home on leave (I vaguely remember a dashing white blond slender man in a uniform.) Then, he was home for good and I remember a vacation with my mom, my uncle and his oldest son, Sammy to Carlsbad Caverns. And then, I remember whispered arguments between my parents and my mother crying. Those arguments were about money. Money my Uncle Doyle was asking for, money we didn't have, but money mom sent anyway. I remember envelopes showing up with peace signs drawn on the outside and letters inside speaking of mystical things that confused and terrified my mother.

And then, I remember being 19 and newly married and receiving a phone call from my mother telling me her brother was dead. He died in Hawaii....he took his own life. And then I watched my mother agonize over the fact that someone so precious to her could no longer come home and I watched her battle guilt over not doing more to help him, to save him. And finally, we just stopped talking about him.

Now, I have come to learn that Doyle was one of the thousands of Marines that were trapped at the Chosin Reservoir. Not being a lover of military history I had never heard of this place before and maybe some of you haven't either. I would encourage you to do a little reading on it. My knowledge now has flipped the script for me where my uncle is concerned. He was a honest to goodness, bonafide hero. Following is text from a letter he wrote home to his parents and his sister Rosie (my mom was no longer living at home at this point). I hope you will forgive the length - I hope you read it all....every word. The date of the letter is December 11.

"Dearest Mother, Daddy and Rosie: Just a few lines to let you know I am OK. I feel years older since the last time I wrote. I've never felt so bad in all my life. I have done things and seen things done that I didn't think human beings could possibly do. I suppose you've heard about my division being trapped for several days. You remember Jackson, the guy I wrote about - well, the first day we jumped into combat he was killed. All the guys I came over with have been killed or wounded except 4 guys and myself. I have thanked God a thousand times for sparing me. The guys that were wounded had to walk and fight when they could hardly stand up. I have never seen so much suffering. Jackson and I made a deal we would go see each other's folks if either of us got killed. So when I get home, I will go talk to his family. I don't know what to say. I suppose the war department will list him as MIA because he was left on a mountain. It was impossible to get him out...but I know he was dead. I only hope God will find a place in heaven for him, he was the best buddy I ever had. The enemy were thick as flies when they attacked that night, sneaking up on us hollering "we are coming to bury you Marines" but we took care of more of them than they did us. All the way out of that valley they were piled up like cord wood. It's a relief to get back where there is no shooting. We are boarding a ship in the morning and I don't know where we are going. I don't think we will be going back into a combat zone - we don't have the men or equipment for that now. I will write again when we settle. I don't have my little pup (Sheba) anymore, she got lost somewhere - I didn't have much time to take care of her anyway. I hope everyone is well, tell everyone hello. I love you all very much. - Doyle"

As I sit here today I am humbled in my knowledge that my Uncle must have experienced hell on earth and was left with the memories burning in his dreams and lurking in his consciousness every single moment of his life. He witnessed his "family" dying one by one and lived with that grief and the guilt of his own survival. He was thrown back into a life where those closest to him didn't and couldn't understand his pain. And, I'm guessing his only solace was in self medicating in the hopes of forgetting for even a moment. As I have dealt with my own issues of knowing that for much of my life I had hard feelings over the pain his life inflicted on my mother, I am ashamed. I wish I had known these facts sooner and better so I could have given my mother and my aunt Rosie a peace and sense of pride in their brother. I could have erased the pain of his actual death and the circumstances surrounding it. My husband told me this and I believe it is the truest thing about my uncle I will ever know. "Your uncle didn't die here, he died in Korea with his brothers."

Doyle Julian Jones - Cpl USMC - one of the Chosin Few and no longer forgotten - now remembered with pride and a grateful heart.

Doyle. I vow to tell your story to anyone who will listen, I will show your pictures and each time, I will swell with pride.