Mr. President, I rise today in recognition of Mr. Harland Meredith, a resident of Tuscaloosa, a Navy hero, and a leader in our community. Over the Independence Day holiday, a friend of mine, Charlie Land, read the following tribute about…
Mr. President, I rise today in recognition of Mr. Harland Meredith, a resident of Tuscaloosa, a Navy hero, and a leader in our community. Over the Independence Day holiday, a friend of mine, Charlie Land, read the following tribute about Mr. Meredith. I ask that Charlie's comments be printed in the Record in celebration of Harlan Meredith.
The material follows:
Once upon a time a young man of this church, freshly
graduated from the University of Alabama, faced the world and
pondered the future. I know that doesn't sound like a big
deal. New college graduates are always doing that. No doubt
some are right now.
But this was a special time. It was May of 1941. He was 20
years old and war loomed uncertainly on the horizon.
He already had tried to get into military service through
the University's advanced Army or Army Air Corps ROTC
programs. Both had turned him down. Something always seemed
to be wrong when he took the required physical examinations,
although nothing ever showed up in his regular physicals. ``I
guess the Lord was just looking after me,'' he would muse
many years later. ``I figure He just didn't want me to be in
those.''
Within a few months, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.
War wasn't just on the horizon anymore.
He really had always wanted to serve in the U.S. Navy,
anyhow. He applied for a direct commission as a naval officer
and was accepted. He was ready to go fight for his country,
for freedom.
But the Navy sent its new ensign to Chicago to oversee the
hydrographic office that served the Great Lakes. It was not
an unimportant job and he did it well. His commanding officer
in Detroit was pleased. He pronounced his ensign a lucky
young man; he could hydrograph his way through the whole war
right there in Chicago. He liked Chicago okay, but that
wasn't at all where he wanted to be or what he wanted to do.
He wanted to go to sea and fight. It took a while, and he had
to find his own replacement, but finally he was off to San
Francisco to train for sea duty.
Now he was 21, but he was still single, his wife-to-be yet
unmet. And he was all steamed up to go to the South Pacific.
``You know how you are at that age,'' he says.
He got there, although in a sort of roundabout way. His
first sea duty was on the seaplane tender Hulbert, a
converted destroyer, in the Aleutian Islands off Alaska. It
was no pleasure cruise. The Aleutians were hostile waters;
Japanese forces occupied some of the islands. There was
combat, although not the heavy action to be found in the
South Pacific. One night the Hulbert dragged anchor off a
point in the Aleutians, ran aground and sank.
He transferred to a small new escort aircraft carrier based
in Portland, OR. Typical of her class, the ship was named for
a bay. Her namesake, Kalinin Bay, was in Southeast Alaska.
But she would take her new gunnery officer from Tuscaloosa to
the South Pacific at last.
And there would be some action.
The Kalinin Bay, with her 27 aircraft and 860 crew members,
sailed about the South Pacific, doing her chores. A lot of
them involved combat. There were enemy air attacks to fend
off. There was the occasional torpedo to dodge. There were
air strikes to be made. There were invasions to support-
Sapan, Guam, the Southern Palaus, islands in the Leyte Gulf
and finally the invasion of Leyte itself as Gen. Douglas
MacArthur made good on his promise to return to the
Philippines.
So the Kalinin Bay was no stranger to combat as she steamed
some 60 miles east of the Philippine Island of Samar early on
the morning of October 25, 1944. She already had operated off
Leyte for more than a week. Her planes already had flown 244
sorties, destroying enemy installations and airfields on five
different islands.
She was part of a small naval battle group nicknamed
``Taffy 3.'' It included 5 other escort carriers, plus a
screen of 3 destroyers and 4 destroyer escorts. The carriers
of ``Taffy 3'' were preparing to launch their first air
strikes of the day when its commanding admiral learned that a
sizable Japanese naval force was approaching. It was 0647
hours.
By 0658 hours, ``Taffy 3'' was under fire from part of the
largest Japanese surface fleet to fight since the Battle of
Midway, coming to keep the Americans out of the Philippines.
The ``Battle Off Samar'', as it would be called, was under
way. It would be described by historians as one of the most
memorable engagements in U.S. naval history.
The ships of ``Taffy 3'', slower, outnumbered and
outgunned, soon were fighting for their lives against a force
of four Japanese battleships, eight cruisers and 12
destroyers. The Kalinin Bay took the first of 15 direct hits
at 0750 hours, a 14- or 16-inch shell from one of the
battleships. It struck one side of the hangar deck near the
forward elevator. A later hit penetrated the deck and
destroyed all of the ship's radio and radar equipment.
Fortunately, some of the shells went right through the ship
without causing significant damage. And even more
fortunately, there were a great many near misses. The Kalinin
Bay fought back hard. She launched her aircraft while under
fire from three cruisers. She dodged behind a timely rain
squall, then maneuvered behind chemical smoke. She traded
fire with the cruisers for a while, then shot it out with
Japan's Destroyer Squadron 10.
Her 5-inch gun stayed busy. It scored two hits on one heavy
cruiser and hit a Japanese destroyer amidships. And her
planes inflicted heavy damage, striking the enemy ships
with bombs, rockets and gunfire.
The Japanese naval vessels turned away for ``Taffy 3''
after 2\1/2\ hours, but not before their destroyers launched
a torpedo attack. The torpedoes were launched from far enough
away to begin to slow before reaching their targets. So a
U.S. Avenger torpedo-
bomber from a sister ship was able to explode two torpedoes
in the Kalinin Bay's wake about 100 yards astern, and the
ship's 5-inch gun deflected another from a collision course
with her stern.
Battered and bloody, the U.S. force sailed south, but there
still would be little respite for the Kalinin Bay and her
surviving sister ships. Little more than an hour later, at
1050, they cam under concentrated attack from kamikzae
aircraft, the suicide bombers of World War II. Four kamikazes
dived at the Kalinin Bay. Two of the airplanes were shot down
at close range. The third crashed into one side of the flight
deck, damaging it badly. The fourth destroyed the aft port
stack.
It was finally over by 1130 hours. The ships and planes of
``Taffy 3,'' with some help from the planes of another unit,
``Taffy 2'', had cleared the air of enemy planes and had
denied the powerful Japanese force entry into the Gulf of
Leyte.
MacArthur's beachhead was safe.
The price had been high. Five of ``Taffy 3's'' 13 ships had
been sunk--two carriers, a destroyer and two destroyer
escorts. Hundreds of American sailors had died. The Kalinin
Bay counted five dead among her 60 casualties, plus
considerable structural damage.
During the hours of intense, furious fighting, the gunnery
officer of the Kalinin Bay never wished he was back in that
office in Chicago.
The Kalinin Bay managed to make it to New Guinea for
temporary repairs. The ship was back in the States by late
November and he transferred off as it awaited further work.
Shipmates had died in several battles. He had been frightened
at times and his faith in God had been tested. But he had
come through without a scratch and with his faith stronger
than ever.
``You realized your Christian faith was the most important
thing you could have,'' he would say. ``In combat I felt like
I was sent there for a purpose. I felt like God's hand was
holding me the whole time; I really did.''
He was ready for his next assignment.
It was to the Midway, a much larger aircraft carrier that
soon was to be commissioned at Newport News, VA. The idea was
for the Midway to sail around the Horn and into the Pacific,
where it would be a powerful additional force. By the time
the Midway was commissioned September 10, 1945, that
assignment was unnecessary. Gen. MacArthur had accepted
Japan's unconditional surrender on September 2 aboard the
Battleship Missouri in Tokyo Bay. The war was over.
The Midway would have a lasting impact on his life, though.
A fellow naval officer needed tickets to the commissioning
ceremony for house guests, and he was glad to oblige. Among
the guests he met the lovely young woman from Tuscaloosa who
would become his wife.
They married shortly after he got out of the Navy. Duty
done and a bit older, the young man who had loved his country
so much that he was determined to fight for it turned his
attention to a successful business career; helped raise two
beautiful daughters, and became a highly respected community
leader.
He became a stalwart of this church, a wise, practical
leader who has given of himself, grown and thrived on his
ability to seek and receive more insights. His faith has been
unwavering, even during the painful ordeal of one daughter's
untimely death.
People who know him will tell you he is a man of high
intelligence, great character, impeccable integrity, calm
consistency and complete credibility. They will also tell you
he hard-working, caring, considerate, loyal and a Southern
gentleman in the best sense of that definition.
He's a man who still greatly loves his family and his
hometown and the United States of America and what it stands
for, what he fought for.
A patriot.
A man who reminds us in his modest, unassuming way that
patriotism isn't some mysterious, exotic condition. It is
simple and fundamental and powerful. It springs from fervent
love for your country, love for freedom. It is in your heart
and spirit and actions, just like it always has been in his.
This sanctuary hasn't lacked for patriots and heroes to sit
in its pews to worship God over the decades. Many who fit
that description are here today, as you are most Sundays.
I salute you. And I salute Harlan Meredith, who story I'm
sure some of you recognized. I also thank him for his
graciousness in sharing it with me, at my request, so I could
share it with you today.
Incidentally, Harlan and Mary Anne have been married for 57
years now. That's worth a salute, too. Our church, community
and country has been blessed to have people like Harlan, and
you.
This, too, is a special time in our country's history.
Again we are at war. Almost every day more of our soldiers
pay the ultimate price for our country, leaving saddened
survivors to live with the aftermath. It makes this
Independence Day weekend all the more meaningful. I pray it
also makes us all the more thankful for our blessings.
And the United States of America truly has been blessed
these 227 years, perhaps most of all with the courageous,
hard-working, God-loving people who have built and maintained
this great country of liberty and justice. People who have
been willing to sacrifice and fight for it, as so many
continue to do today. Patriots.
We aren't perfect as a country. But to the extent mere
humankind can be, the good part of the United States of
America is both the light and the hope of the world. May God
bless you; may God continue to bless America; and may we
never forget from Whom our blessings flow.
I don't think Harlan Meredith ever has.