From the Book
"Our hopes of rescue seemed to sink with the setting of the sun. The inexpressible fear of the sharks only worsened as the dark approached and the thought of having to endure another shivering night was depressing. We were all miserable and helpless. As night approached, dehydrated sailors continued to become incoherent and thrashed about until all their energy was depleted."
- From "Out of the Depths" by Edgar Harrell
MONROE - There is a time for wandering off to a wooded hillside to view the freshness of springtime foliage or sit mesmerized by the swiftly flowing currents of a rain-swollen stream.
Memorial Day weekend this year was not one of those times. It started many months ago when my niece, Deb Blum of Monroe, talked persistently about a World War II veteran, Edgar Harrell, she had encountered in Indianapolis.
"I wish you could meet him," she said. A WWII history buff, she kept saying things like "the most incredible story I've ever heard" and "you have to talk to him."
She loaned me a copy of his book, "Out of the Depths," describing the events surrounding the sinking of the USS Indianapolis on July 30, 1945. Once the cover turned, I couldn't put it down.
And Deb was right, associating with Edgar can be a life-changing experience. As I spoke with him on the phone, the thought came to me that perhaps he would agree to visit Wisconsin during the Memorial Day weekend.
Between my pleas and his acquaintance with Deb, he graciously agreed to come. WEKZ interviewed him by phone prior to his arrival and broadcast his message throughout the weekend.
We met him in Monroe on Sunday night for dinner at Bullets. On Monday, we escorted him to Blanchardville for the parade and ceremonies at the Legion building and then back to Monroe to speak at the Legion Post there. Unfortunately, he had to get back to Tennessee and left right after his speech.
The USS Indianapolis was the last American naval vessel to be sunk by the Japanese. Of the 1,196 crew members on board, approximately 300 went down with the ship. The remaining sailors and Marines clung to a few lifeboats or bobbed in their life jackets in a caldron of oily sea water.
Through an inexplicable series of miscommunications, the Navy was unaware that the ship went down. As a result, the men were left stranded for four and a half days before an American patrol plane spotted the oil slick and sun-blistered men scattered over a wide area of the Pacific.
By then, there only were 317 left alive, the others devoured by sharks or succumbing to untreated injuries and dehydration from drinking salt water, which their bodies could not absorb. Some simply could not stand the searing heat of the equatorial sun or long, cold nights, and slipped out of their life vests, disappearing silently into a watery grave.
The tragedy continued after the event as their skipper, Capt. Charles B. McVay, was court marshaled for failing to carry out zigzag maneuvers at the time of the attack.
To put the event in context, the war was winding down, and the Navy believed the threat from the Japanese navy had diminished to the point where destroyer escorts no longer were necessary. Moreover, the defensive maneuvers in question were not required by Navy directives at the time, but discretionary on the part of the commanding officer. In addition to having his distinguished naval career end in such an ignominious fashion, the third generation naval officer received hate mail from some of the families of those who died, blaming him for the loss of their loved ones.
Despite efforts on the part of the survivors to clear his name and assuage his guilt, Capt. McVay lived a life of perpetual remorse until committing suicide on Nov. 6, 1968. A Congressional resolution exonerated him in October 2000.
A highly spiritual man, Mr. Harrell tells his story from the perspective of one who believes it was a higher power that led to his survival for 110 hours and eventual rescue.
His personal account reveals an incredible story of spontaneous choices and unlikely occurrences that saved his life. For example, he was floating with a number of other survivors when they chanced upon a floating crate of potatoes from the ship, thus saving them from dehydration and weakness.
There are many reasons some veterans of the war have trouble opening up about their experiences. Some may be too traumatized by the experience to talk about it. Others may lack the verbal skills to do so. Some simply do not want to attract attention to themselves because they believe what they did is "no big deal."
The events surrounding the sinking of the Indianapolis IS a big deal. My only regret is that Edgar Harrell was unable to spend more time here.
Those who yearn to perpetuate an understanding of World War II and the sinking of the Indianapolis might consider buying Harrell's book. Obtain a copy at River Valley Trading Company in Blanchardville or go online at www.Indysurvivor.com.
- Lee Fahrney is the Times outdoors Writer. He also serves as commander of American Legion Post 142 in Blanchardville. Contact him at fiveoaks@mhtc.net or at (608) 967-2208.
Memorial Day weekend this year was not one of those times. It started many months ago when my niece, Deb Blum of Monroe, talked persistently about a World War II veteran, Edgar Harrell, she had encountered in Indianapolis.
"I wish you could meet him," she said. A WWII history buff, she kept saying things like "the most incredible story I've ever heard" and "you have to talk to him."
She loaned me a copy of his book, "Out of the Depths," describing the events surrounding the sinking of the USS Indianapolis on July 30, 1945. Once the cover turned, I couldn't put it down.
And Deb was right, associating with Edgar can be a life-changing experience. As I spoke with him on the phone, the thought came to me that perhaps he would agree to visit Wisconsin during the Memorial Day weekend.
Between my pleas and his acquaintance with Deb, he graciously agreed to come. WEKZ interviewed him by phone prior to his arrival and broadcast his message throughout the weekend.
We met him in Monroe on Sunday night for dinner at Bullets. On Monday, we escorted him to Blanchardville for the parade and ceremonies at the Legion building and then back to Monroe to speak at the Legion Post there. Unfortunately, he had to get back to Tennessee and left right after his speech.
The USS Indianapolis was the last American naval vessel to be sunk by the Japanese. Of the 1,196 crew members on board, approximately 300 went down with the ship. The remaining sailors and Marines clung to a few lifeboats or bobbed in their life jackets in a caldron of oily sea water.
Through an inexplicable series of miscommunications, the Navy was unaware that the ship went down. As a result, the men were left stranded for four and a half days before an American patrol plane spotted the oil slick and sun-blistered men scattered over a wide area of the Pacific.
By then, there only were 317 left alive, the others devoured by sharks or succumbing to untreated injuries and dehydration from drinking salt water, which their bodies could not absorb. Some simply could not stand the searing heat of the equatorial sun or long, cold nights, and slipped out of their life vests, disappearing silently into a watery grave.
The tragedy continued after the event as their skipper, Capt. Charles B. McVay, was court marshaled for failing to carry out zigzag maneuvers at the time of the attack.
To put the event in context, the war was winding down, and the Navy believed the threat from the Japanese navy had diminished to the point where destroyer escorts no longer were necessary. Moreover, the defensive maneuvers in question were not required by Navy directives at the time, but discretionary on the part of the commanding officer. In addition to having his distinguished naval career end in such an ignominious fashion, the third generation naval officer received hate mail from some of the families of those who died, blaming him for the loss of their loved ones.
Despite efforts on the part of the survivors to clear his name and assuage his guilt, Capt. McVay lived a life of perpetual remorse until committing suicide on Nov. 6, 1968. A Congressional resolution exonerated him in October 2000.
A highly spiritual man, Mr. Harrell tells his story from the perspective of one who believes it was a higher power that led to his survival for 110 hours and eventual rescue.
His personal account reveals an incredible story of spontaneous choices and unlikely occurrences that saved his life. For example, he was floating with a number of other survivors when they chanced upon a floating crate of potatoes from the ship, thus saving them from dehydration and weakness.
There are many reasons some veterans of the war have trouble opening up about their experiences. Some may be too traumatized by the experience to talk about it. Others may lack the verbal skills to do so. Some simply do not want to attract attention to themselves because they believe what they did is "no big deal."
The events surrounding the sinking of the Indianapolis IS a big deal. My only regret is that Edgar Harrell was unable to spend more time here.
Those who yearn to perpetuate an understanding of World War II and the sinking of the Indianapolis might consider buying Harrell's book. Obtain a copy at River Valley Trading Company in Blanchardville or go online at www.Indysurvivor.com.
- Lee Fahrney is the Times outdoors Writer. He also serves as commander of American Legion Post 142 in Blanchardville. Contact him at fiveoaks@mhtc.net or at (608) 967-2208.
