Marine Scout Bomber Squadron 931 (VMSB-931)

I’ve written a few blurbs about SETX during World War II, and I plan on writing a few more in the future. This era of our country and the generation to which we owe much inspires me greatly. Since childhood, I have absorbed the history told in theaters, books, and legends, but a walk through a cemetery certainly adds a human factor to the endless tales of sacrifice. Especially when the headstone in front of you is not a headstone at all, but a memorial to a fallen son or daughter who has been lost forever. As time passes and there is no one left to speak or remember their name, the life that was lived is forgotten. There are a few of these stories here in SETX, and I hope to honor these individuals in future blogs by sharing their stories. But before I delve into some of our SETX locals, I would like to bring attention to a few lost heroes who deserve to be remembered in SETX history.

It was fall 1944, and the war was still raging on both fronts. Like most periodicals across our nation, local SETX newspapers centered on the liberation of Belgium and the European theatre. The heavy fighting on Peleliu and throughout the Pacific were occasionally mentioned, but these events seemed to take a back seat to the success in Europe. It would be at this theatre that Marine Aircraft Group 93 (MAG-93) would train its pilots for battle. MAG-93 began in April 1944 at Cherry Point, North Carolina. Its first squadron was commissioned on April 15th under the command of Major John L. Dexter and was known as Marine Scout Bomber Squadron 931. Other squadrons, such as VMSB-932, would also be commissioned into MAG-93 and would spend countless hours (round the clock, for a brief time) in training centered at Jefferson County Airport. However, the Marine Scout Bombing Squadron (VMSB-931) will be our main focus in this article.

In May, VMSB-931 was transferred to Eagle Mountain Lake, Texas (near Ft. Worth) to begin their operational training. It also became attached to Marine Aircraft Group 33 (MAG-33). The squadron consisted of 18 SBD-5 (Dauntless)-type aircraft with 37 commissioned officers and 160 enlisted men. Records show that only one operational accident occurred during this period, which resulted in the damage and loss of an SBD-5. Fortunately, there was no loss of life, and the squadron continued their training through July, attaining a 43.1% readiness for combat rating by their superior.

Dauntless

By August, it was time for the squadron to begin the second phase of their training; thus, the VMSB-931 were temporarily detached to the U.S. Naval Section Base in Sabine Pass, Texas “for duty in connection with the basing of tactical squadrons of Marine Aircraft Group 33 at Jefferson County Airport, Beaumont, Texas. This duty includes gunnery, dive-bombing, and overwater navigation training,” wrote Commander John L. Dexter in the squadron’s war diary on the first of August. The next week would consist of setting up operations at their new location and finally beginning their overwater flight training on August 8th.

As most of us know, the Gulf can be very unpredictable in September, and 1944 was no exception. On September 9th, a tropical storm formed about 170 miles southeast of Matamoros, Mexico, and began to move north. All planes were evacuated out of the area to where I would assume was back to Eagle Mountain Lake. Their absence would not last long, however, because Tropical Storm Six would move northeast and make landfall at the Mississippi River Delta on the 10th with top winds of 65 mph. Needless to say, all planes were back on September 11th. Training resumed the next day, and here is where our story takes a deadly turn.

During overwater flight training off the coast of the Sabine Pass, 2nd Lieutenant Marion M. Puliz attempted to rendezvous from below the lead plane flown by 2nd Lieutenant Richard L. Savoie, resulting in a mid-air collision. Both planes crashed into the Gulf and sank in 35 feet of water. Both pilots and the two gunners, Corporal Richard R. Stoddard and Private First Class William C. Bathurst, were killed. 2nd Lieutenant Puliz’s body was the only one recovered out of the four.

More tragedy hit 931 eight days later when 2nd Lieutenant William G. Duvall “attempted a slow roll at low altitude. He lost control and went into a progressive stall, hitting the water on the left wing. Plane was observed to explode and sink immediately upon striking the water,” wrote Commander Dexter. Both the pilot and the gunner, Private First Class Albert W. Bitner, perished in the crash, and neither body was recovered.

Amazingly, there are a few newspaper accounts of these tragedies; however, with few of them offer details of the actual crashes. For instance, the Port Arthur News reports consisted of the identities of the victims and, oddly enough, a few mentions of sightings of a body a few weeks later off the coast of High Island. A search for the bodies after each accident occurred was conducted by the Coast Guard, but no remains were found.

An article dated September 27 reported that a swimmer informed the Coast Guard that he had brushed against a body while swimming just off the coast of High Island. A search ensued that lasted until 2 a.m. but was deemed “fruitless” by Coast Guard officials who, in their statement, said that the swimmer “had been mistaken.”

The following day, the Port Arthur News reported, “Louis Welch of Sabine Pass, county commissioner of Precinct 3, also reported seeing the body to Coast Guard officials. According to Welch, he sighted the body floating in the Gulf water about one mile east of the Chambers and Jefferson Counties boundary line.” Welch tried to “tow it ashore,” but a wave swept the body away. The search for the body was resumed, but it was never recovered.

Jefferson County Airport 1945

Operational training ended September 21st for the VMSB-931, and the squadron returned to Eagle Mountain Lake a few days later. But this was not the end of the Marine Aircraft Group’s training facilities here in Jefferson County, as the 932 (VMSB-932) would arrive at Jefferson County Airport on September 26th to begin their operational training as well. I am unsure where these brave young men ended up after their training, but I can only guess that a few would have participated in ending this long, drawn-out war. I researched further, but there are thousands upon thousands of war diary documents to sift through and many more rabbit holes that I find myself not capable of going down in a relatively short amount of time. One day, if time permits, I would like to continue on the trail of the 931, but plenty more tales are coming soon.

 

Sources:

Jefferson County Historical Commission archives

Fold 3

Port Arthur News archives

 

 

 

 

Tales from Hallowed Ground: Tom The Tramp

 

tom

Still inspired by the Liberty County Historical Commission’s “Whispers of the Past,” I find myself wanting to bring a few stories from my own county’s cemeteries to light. This is why I want to start a new topic about the inhabitants of cemeteries, which will hopefully feature on this blog once a month. There are many stories out there, hidden away in our hallowed grounds, and I for one am interested in bringing these stories, legends, and tales to the fore. I would also love your input, so please leave your suggestions, stories, and comments on the Rediscovering SETX Facebook page or email me at rediscoveringsetx@gmail.com.

Roaming through the hilly terrain of one of Beaumont’s oldest cemeteries, I passed many obelisks, mausoleums, and other monuments dedicated to the “who was who” of Beaumont’s 175-year existence—each edifice undoubtedly clutching a story that’s waiting to be told. However, let us sidestep our SETX citizens at this time in favor of a hero who became a permanent resident of the Magnolia Cemetery too soon.

Because the Great Storm of 1900 took many lives and devastated Galveston’s shore, most forget that the residents of Bolivar Peninsula also shared the same fate, and this is where our story begins.

Alice and Frank Keith were two prominent names in old Beaumont, not least because Frank owned the Keith Lumber Company. On September 8th of 1900, Alice and Frank were in New York while their two daughters, Alice and Olga, stayed with relatives at a hotel in Patton Beach (now named Crystal Beach). As the storm worsened, Mrs. Irwin, the hotel manager, and an employee, Tom, nicknamed “Tom the Tramp,” thought it would be safer for the Keith’s daughters to ride the storm out in another house near the hotel.

Unfortunately the severity of the storm proved too much for the structure, and the house began to break up. Mrs. Irwin picked up Alice, and taking Olga’s hand to hers, headed for another house. As they departed, a large wave knocked Alice out. Mrs. Irwin managed to hold onto the girl, but Olga was separated from her. As if by fate, Tom swiftly retrieved Olga from the water and gave her back to Mrs. Irwin. He then took Alice and began to roll her back and forth over his shoulder, which revived her. As the storm raged on, the four again sought shelter in the house. Luckily, they all survived.

Both Frank and Alice were unaware of their daughters’ struggle for survival, but I’m sure they were devastated when they read a story in a New York newspaper that reported that their daughters had perished. However, as we already know, the newspaper was fortunately wrong, and the Keith’s were able to hold their daughters once again and hear the tale of heroism of the girls’ two saviors. Indeed, the Keith’s were so grateful to the two that they offered them each a house, which Tom accepted.

This would have made for a happy ending to a great story, but sadly in 1909, Tom kicked over an oil lamp while having a seizure and burned to death in his house. Ever grateful for his heroism, Frank and Alice laid him to rest in their family plot at Magnolia Cemetery with the name they knew him by and a tribute befitting of their hero:

Tom

The Tramp

Died December 5, 1909

“He alone is great, who by an act heroic, renders a real service.”

 

Source: Judy Linsley