Harold Wayne King
Corporal
C CO, 4TH BN, 47TH INFANTRY, 9TH INF DIV, USARV Army of the United States Floyd, Virginia January 15, 1947 to July 11, 1967 HAROLD W KING is on the Wall at Panel 23E, Line 52 |
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Harold Wayne King
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My name is Janice KING Pattillo. Harold Wayne King is my First Cousin. Our fathers were brothers. I can not believe after all these years I have stumbled on this site and found out what happened to my cousin. This is like a gift from God - all thes years and now I know. It has always broken my heart that Wayne died so young and for nothing. Old men send young men to die. Wayne is buried on a hillside in a country church cemetery in his beloved Virginia by his little sister and parents, his grand parents and uncles and aunts and cousins. I still see that young teenager driving past my childhood home in Virginia, waving and that beautiful shy smile. God Bless his soul and the other brave soldiers who died that day. So far from home and thinking of their loved ones. How my heart breaks for Wayne and all that could have been - a wedding, children and grandchildren - dreams that died in a rice paddy - so far from the beautiful hills of Virginia. A young handsome cousin who felt he would never come home walks up the steps and boards his plane - never looking back - on his journey to eternity --- Wayne, I love you and tears fall for you as you remain always young and we left behind, now graying.
"IN REMEMBERING, WE KEEP WHAT IS BEST AS TREASURES FOREVER" - THANK YOU FOR THIS SITE
GOD BLESS YOU FOR NOT FORGETTING
Another young man on visits to the hills of Virginia throughout his twenty-four years, visting the cemetery learned of a cousin he never knew. My son, Michael Pattillo, also lies in a cemetery now. And, Michael and Wayne are together for eternity. Wayne's elderly Mother joined Wayne in 2002, for those who knew Wayne.
From Wayne's first cousin, |
Hello: My name is Emile Lawrence. For a number of years I knew Harold had died in Viet Nam, although I had no news that he did. For a number of years, I had wondered where he was. But I did not find out what happened to him until another good high school friend, Bill Jones, e-mailed me on Christmas Day in 2000. I had not seen Bill Jones, or heard from him either, in 30 years. Bill and I worked together one summer in the moving and storage business. It was Bill who told me Harold died in 1967, from small arms fire in Viet Nam. This news hit me like a brick in the chest. Now, the official record is: he might have died from a grenade or two. And there is something about POW status which I do not understand. Harold King and I went to high school together and were pretty good friends. We double dated at a local drive-in a few times. The last time I saw Harold was in Aberdeen, Maryland, in 1966. He is a graduate of Aberdeen High School in Maryland. He wanted me to join the Army with him - he was one year ahead of me in school. But after talking to my father about the Army, and my dad was in the Army, Harold joined without me. He did so although my dad told me "Go ahead." I would have had to drop out of high school in the 12th grade to join. But I was a military brat; at 18 I had already spent many years in the Army. I actually grew up in the Army: we lived on the Army's Aberdeen Proving Grounds, the logistics center for all Army equipment captured in war. I used to play on top of Big Bertha, a huge German canon. I also played in a German Tiger tank that had a hole all the way though it. The APG had many other such toys. I was the lifeguard at the Enlisted Men's Pool each summer. In the summer of 1966, I left Aberdeen for Ocean City, Maryland, the morning following the party. And Diane knew Harold and me. I learned in my senior year my dad would soon ship out to Viet Nam. In 1966 I ended up finishing high school on my own, living in a run-down apartment for three months. My mom moved back to California. Although my Dad got shot up in Viet Nam, after 12 months in a hospital in Tokyo, he came back. This was sometime in 1968, when I was already in the US Navy, aboard a submarine tender. I got drafted but joined the Navy before being inducted into the Army. I missed entering the Army by about five weeks, I think. The Army said my aptitude was photo recon or military intelligence and I would not be a grunt. I did not trust them because they would not put it in writing. Before Harold went to Viet Nam, he came home on leave to talk to me again. I remember we went out that night, to talk and have a beer or two. He wore his Army uniform. He was real proud of it. I remember his boots were spit-shined. Before he joined the Army, we used to buy "109" brand beer - 99 cents for a 12 pack of 16 ounce cans (this was 1965/66). Then we would buy a bag of crab legs and drive out to the piers and drink the beer and eat the legs. One night I remember us bringing a couple of girlfriends along. Harold was an All-American guy. Every now and then, I still see him standing there in his uniform and spit shined boots. If anyone wants to contact me about Harold:
Emile Lawrence
From one of Harold's good high school friends, |
4th Battalion, 47th Infantry Regiment, 9th Infantry Division memorialized on The Virtual Wall include
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A Note from The Virtual WallCharlie Company, 4/47th Infantry, lost five men on 11 July 1967:
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