OBITUARY AND DEATH REPORTS
FORMER MEMBERS OF COMPANY D
(Formerly A Company):
MARC S. ROTH, PRIOR TO DEPARTING FRANCE, CIRCA 1964:
I was informed by one of our members that Marc S. Roth died in an automobile accident before his scheduled rotation date. If anyone can confirm this, please e-mail Don Ricks.
JAMES L. GESE, JUNE 13, 1965, MINNESOTA:
Citation for the actual St. Paul newspaper not available:
Twin Cities area victims were: James Leon Gese, 24, of 749 Jessie Street [and his friend] Donald Thomas Bergman, 24, of 707 De Soto Street. Gese and Bergman were killed shortly before midnight when their car left Centerville Road near County Road J, about 3 miles south of Centerville in Anoka County. The car crashed into a power pole and continued on for about 65 feet before landing on its top. Both men were thrown from the car. They died at the scene. Gese was employed as a well-driller for the McCarthy Well Company.
He is survived by his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Paul A. Gese; six sisters, Joan, Susan, and Sylvia Gese and Mrs. Donald LaValle, all of St. Paul; Mrs. Donald Vaillancourt, South St. Paul; and Mrs. Gerald Lind, Iver Grove; and two brothers, Richard and Valentine, both of St. Paul.
[Jim Gese was a dedicated and proficient mechanic in Company D, 97th Engineer Bn (Const).
copies of material from family files courtesy of Valentine Gese, St. Paul, Minnesota
Notes on Jim Gese, by Don Ricks:
Jim had an unique laugh, something that drew people to him. He was a smooth guy to most of us, with a ready, cocky smile, and he didn't allow people around him to do stupid stuff. He was our Cool Hand Luke. He loved fun but was more on the serious side than many of our more loose men in the unit. If he liked you, he would allow you to get a little closer, but if he didn't care for a particular personality he would just be nice and stand off more. He and I were friends, as close as any others in the platoon, both introverts and not really needing other people. We worked well together, and Jim was a very good mechanic, sought after by the more particular truck drivers.
I came from a large family, too, with three younger sisters, an older brother, and a younger brother just below me. Perhaps that is why we were close. I knew a close relationship with my siblings, and it continues even today. In fact, we have a reunion coming up at the end of this month, and they are coming from all over to be in south Georgia. I'm certain Jim discussed his family, but I didn't recall much of what I discovered about you guys from his obituary and accident story.
Jim and I were diesel and ordinance mechanics, in a group of six to eight mechanics, depending on who was coming and going. We slept in the same Quonset hut barracks (headquarters platoon), ate our meals together, listened to music, and went out on the town together. About six months after Jim arrived I began dating a French woman, so thereafter I did not spend as much time with him and the others, but we continued to closely work everyday in the same maintenance hanger. I also began to sing and play guitar with a band made up by air force men who lived a good distance from us. I was gone most weekends. Jim was always steady and seldom went off on his own, but you could find him engrossed in a book and not really needing another's company. I remember an irritating time with him, when he was reading several large books, such as The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, by journalist William L. Shirer. He ignored everyone! Then, he began to read another huge one, something by Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace, I believe. You couldn't get him away from them, and we were glad when he had had enough.
We looked up to Jim and gave him a lot of room, too. He was a serious card player and one of our better decision-makers. We often sought his opinion on difficult maintenance matters, and he would listen more than talk, reflect and give a calculated, reasonable response. If you went out on the town, you wanted Jim along, because he would be one who kept things from getting out of hand. When stupid stuff happened, Jim was way back from it, in a reasonable position and not involved in questionable behavior. I respected him and quietly gave him his due, although I was then one of the ones with a ready chip on my shoulder. Luckily, I got rid of that mentality in a few years. Jim was a balancing factor for me , for when I wanted to talk serious he was there to be serious. You could trust him.
I recall only once when we had an argument that became serious, because of unusual, even rare, behavior from him. Evidence is in one of the photographs at our site, which I will share with you [Photo page 2, 4 Mechanics and a Driver]. On a late Saturday night, Jim came into the barracks slightly inebriated. He had some cause to be that way, but I can't recall what it was. Well, he had purchased a Symphonic record player, one with a flip lid that held several 78 RPM records, with an automatic changer. It sounded good. We all enjoyed the record player and even bought records for him to play in early evening. Jim had purchased a copy of West Side Story's sound track, and he often played it. Jim was sometimes melancholy, and that record made him go deeper into a shell, I don't know why. It was about 1:30 am on Sunday morning when Jim came into the Quonset hut, a long, curved roof metal structure. We had bunks along the wall, with metal wall lockers separating individual living areas. Jim and I had bunks about the center of the structure and across from each other. Everyone else was asleep, but Jim turned on the lights and opened his record player. When he started West Side Story, I rolled over and asked him if he knew what time it was? He didn't answer but just laid down on his bunk. I turned back over and put a pillow on my head, but others started calling him down about the music and lights. He simply didn't respond.
I rolled out of bed, walked over and turned off the player, then the light, and went back to bed, thinking he had gone to sleep. He still hadn't said a word, just grunted. But when I returned to my bunk, Jim got up and made his way to the light switch and then to the player, this time louder than before. It was a challenge to everyone in the close barracks. There was chaos in dreamland.
I asked Jim calmly to turn off the player and light and pleaded with him to go to sleep. He just said I should mind my own business and laid back on the bed but glaringly looking at me. Well, I told him he was out of character, and he mumbled something and rolled his head to the left, away from me. I sat up on the side of my bed, pulled on my combat boots and quickly walked over and put my booted foot square in the middle of the record and stomped it dead, ruining it forever. That was how quick I went off in those days.
Well, Jim was up and at me before anyone could hold him off, and we swapped a few blows, he getting the best of the short bout, before others separated us. However, I had got in a good lick to his right eye area, and in the next day or two he had a black eye. It shows up in the U. S. Army photo (4 mechanics and a driver mentioned), where he is standing to my right behind me. Of course, I regretted destroying the player and the fight, and even went to him the next day to apologize. He was a man, that is for sure, and before I could get mine out he was telling me how stupid his conduct was, how he regretted the confrontation, and apologized for the ruckus. He even admired the black eye, telling me I had a good punch. He eventually apologized to everyone, and we never figured out what made him have that particular episode of bravado. We never had another cross word.
This isn't a bad memory but serves to reveal Jim's character and manliness. He was polite and reflective, and we had a good foreign tour together. He was one of my favorite people, and I have over the years found him in my mind, wondering what had become of him. I enjoyed his swagger, and the cocky yet poised sureness he constantly exhibited. For a mechanic, he was neat and tidy. He got dirty, like all of us, but he didn't stay that way long. He had lots of pride, and I imagine he worked on that car of his a lot. I took most of the photos of him at our site, and Jim took many of those of me, as I was the one with a camera and readily shared my prints with others.
STANLEY J. GRINDY, 1991, ARIZONA:
Obituary being sent by his son, Scott.
MILTON E. SCHUSSMAN, JUNE 4, 2003, WISCONSIN:
The Fond du Lac Reporter, Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, June 4, 2003: Milton E. Schussman, 64, of N10811 Town Hall Road, Malone, died unexpectedly Monday, June 2, 2003. He was born Jan. 22, 1939, on the family homestead in the Town of Calumet, a son of the late Erwin and Esther Jensen Schussman. Milton served in the U.S. Army from 1960 to 1962. On Oct. 6, 1972, he married Virginia Koehler at St. Paul's United Church of Christ in the Town of Calumet. Milton and his wife farmed on the Schussman homestead in the Town of Calumet.
[Milton was a mechanic, and a very good one, during his service with Company D, 97th Engineer Bn (Const).]
KENNETH H. NAKANASHI, JUNE 4, 2004, HAWAII:
KENNETH HIROSHI NAKANISHI, 63, of Honolulu, died June 4, 2004. Born in Honolulu. Survived by wife, Sharie An; daughters, Lori Griffith, Kerri and Marci; two granddaughters; brothers, Ernest, James and Gary; sister, Mae Matsushige. Visitation 1 p.m. Saturday at Hosoi Garden Mortuary.
HORACE SCHOW II, MARCH 29, 2005, FLORIDA (BURIED ARLINGTON NATIONAL CEMETERY):
The Arlington national Cemetery web site shows the following page for one of our former commanders, Horace Schow II:
GLENN A. HARRISON, OCTOBER 27, 2005, GRANIT FALLS, NORTH CAROLINA:
News-Topic, Lenoir, NC, October 31, 2005: Glenn A. Harrison, 68, of Granite Falls, N.C., died Thursday, Oct. 27, 2005, at Frye Regional Medical Center.
He was born Feb. 16, 1937, in Caldwell County to Verlee H. Harrison of Granite Falls and the late Ralph D. Harrison. In addition to his father, he was preceded in death by a sister, Patsy H. Moretz.
Mr. Harrison was retired from Hickory Business Furniture as a supervisor and a member of Oak Grove Baptist Church.
In addition to his mother, survivors include his wife, Hazel W. Harrison of the home; three brothers, Bob L., Tom W. and Jake D. Harrison, all of Granite Falls; and a sister, Judy H. Phelps of Granite Falls.
Funeral services will be Sunday, Oct. 30, 2005, at 4 p.m. at Oak Grove Baptist Church with the Rev. Wayne White and Mr. Robert Morgan officiating. Burial will follow at Oak Grove Baptist Church Cemetery.
The family will receive friends two hours prior to the service from 2 until 4 p.m.
Pallbearers will be Tim Phelps, Jon Harrison, Brian Harrison, Bradley Harrison, Frank Winkler and Richard Aultman.
Source: http://newstopic.net/articles/2005/10/31/obituaries/26glennharrison.txt
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