Schley County GaArchives News.....MOTHER OF MISSING BOY, EDWIN WALL, RECALLS HIS GREAT WISH TO GO TO SEA November 20, 1942 ************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/ga/gafiles.htm ************************************************ File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Harris Harris http://www.genrecords.net/emailregistry/vols/00011.html#0002514 September 19, 2007, 7:39 am The Ellaville Sun November 20, 1942 MOTHER OF MISSING BOY, EDWIN WALL, RECALLS HIS GREAT WISH TO GO TO SEA by Mrs. Arch Avary Seven days after the fall of Corregidor, an official telegram from the Bureau of Navigation reached a farmhouse, six miles from Ellaville, bringing grief and uncertainty to the family. Its wording, however, aroused in them a dim hope that their only son, though reported missing, might still be alive. Mrs. Welton Wall, a slight woman, 45, mother of the missing boy, was stunned by the news and looked with unseeing eyes at the telegram in her hand. Hesitantly, she began to speak as though more to herself than aloud. "He might still be alive and in Japanese hands. He must be alive! Why just two months ago, I received the routine card permitted past the censors, dated February 4. He was well then," she continued, "and promised a letter would follow", but no letter came. "Edwin was such a good boy and most of the time, jolly and laughing." "One day, though," she reminisced, "when he was a little tike, he came home from Glenn Holly school in tears, 'Mother,' he said, 'We had our pictures taken today, and the teacher wouldn't give me time to take off this old sweater with the holes in it.' "He wanted a pair of overalls like his daddy's too, but when I made him a new pair, he wasn't satisfied. 'Why Mother', he explained in disappointment, 'they aren't like daddy's 'cause his have patches on the knees.' That seems just like yesterday. "Edwin used to help his father with the farm work on our 160 acres of rolling, sandy, semi-marginal land, though only fifty-odd acres are in cultivation. We raise corn, peanuts and peas, but my boy never liked farming." "He used to listen to Uncle Webster and Uncle Don Wall," she continued, "tell tales of the navy service during the other World War, and he developed a restless for the sea. His father, a World War veteran, could never somehow interest Edwin in army life. "As he grew up, hunting and fishing were his main interests, and he would slip off from home and spend hours in the woods." Mrs. Wall went on, "Edwin liked to dance too, but one thing he never did was to claim any one girl. I'm glad he did not leave a sweetheart." "Often after evening chores were done, with the sun setting in the west, he would pick up his guitar or fiddle and sometimes his harp, all of which he played by ear, and sitting on the steps of the porch, would play and sing, accompanied by his father and three younger sisters. Hazel and Francis would sing soprano and Bernice, the youngest, would chime in with alto." The mother paused for a moment as though she was seeing her four children together again just as they used to be. "School meant nothing to Edwin. Joining the navy was his life ambition and he stayed in school only long enough to graduate from Schley county high school." "He worked in Americus fifteen months, after his graduation, at the Manhattan Shirt Factory as a box labeler, but the urge of the sea was too great. He enlisted in the navy in April, 1940." "He was really happy then," the mother admitted. "We first heard from him during his training in Norfolk, Virginia. Later a letter came from the submarine school in New London, Connecticut." "Through with his training, my boy left for the west coast and Pearl Harbor, serving on the submarine, Shark, in which he went to Manila," she added, unmistakable pride in her voice. "Later Edwin was transferred, as first class seaman, to the U.S.S. Canopus, a submarine supply ship, and we received his last letter while he was on this assignment." Turning to her daughter, Frances, she asked her to bring out Edwin's pictures. "Here is his picture in that old sweater with the holes in it ..... and this is the one in his new overalls with no patches. Now this is his latest picture taken with his buddy, John Murray Worsham, of Camilla, Georgia, also missing. You know I never saw him in his uniform. He must have looked nice." She dried her eyes. "I just can't believe Edwin is dead for sometimes I feel certain he will come home." Mr. Wall, a solidly built farmer, of Hopewell community, in his late forties, smiled a greeting as he sat down on his front steps. His service in the First World War, one could see had left its mark. "Kate, my wife, you know works down in Americus at the Manhattan Shirt Factory," he drawled, "and so does Hazel, our oldest girl." "They've just gotten home. Edwin worked down there too til he joined the navy," he went on as he idly played with a little yellow kitten that sought attention. "I'm raising some cows for beef this year," he continued conversationally, "got Twenty-five calves and yearlings, but I've plenty of pasture for twice as many. We've about two dozen hogs too, though some are mighty small," he smiled, as eight tiny pigs came into view behind a young sow. "We've two mules and enough chickens for the family to eat," he added, staring absently up at the roof. "You know, sometimes I doubt if my boy will ever come home," he went on, "but I'm not sorry he went 'cause that is the way he would want it." The sun sank low over the pine tops in the distance and the blue star on the local service flag, representing Thomas Edwin Wall, Seaman 1st Class, U.S.N., soon may be replaced by a gold star. File at: http://files.usgwarchives.net/ga/schley/newspapers/motherof2684nw.txt This file has been created by a form at http://www.poppet.org/gafiles/ File size: 6.0 Kb