William Tanner; KIA 10/24/1944

He was known by his fellow shipmates as “Little Bill.” He had signed up for the Navy, lying about his age, when he was 17-years-old. He wanted to do his part to defend freedom.

He was Dad’s best friend on the ship. Dad and other older boys looked out for Little Bill. They kept his secret and made him feel like he belonged. That day in the Leyte Gulf Battle, when a Japanese dive-bomber struck the heart of that Aircraft Carrier (USS Princeton, CVL-23) was 10/24/1944.

That bomb had gone through the deck and exploded in the bomb bay, where the ship kept explosive ordnance. Dad was an ordnance man, so he knew what was in the area of the explosion.

The ship began blowing apart. Men were dying, and fires were raging. Dad was hit with a piece of shrapnel that left a quarter-sized hole in his chin, exposing the meat of his bottom jaw. But seeing the real pain of others around him, it was nothing.

Then came the order to abandon ship. Dad and Bill moved to the front of the ship, to the Forecastle (commonly called the Focsle) to jump. The Focsle was the lowest point from which to jump, being only about 40 feet (as I recall Dad telling) above the water.

Bill panicked. He cried as he told Dad, “Jack! I can’t swim!” Dad put a hand on each of Bill’s shoulders and told him to look at him. He said, “Bill, I’ll go first, then you jump right after me, I’ll find you in the water, and we’ll be home for Christmas.” Bill agreed. Dad jumped.

He never saw Bill again.

At every reunion of the Princeton survivors, Dad would ask if anyone else saw Bill Tanner that day. None had. Finally, in the late 90s, 50 years after that day, a survivor who had been with Bill in the water came to the reunion. He cried as he told Dad, that he was hanging on a rope thrown over the ship. As the ship rocked and rolled, he would be lifted up high out of the water, then plunged back under. He was able to grab Little Bill, who was struggling to stay above water. But then he said, “Jack I held on to him as long as I could, but I had to let him slip away.”

I once made the mistake of telling a veteran that I was thinking of him on Memorial Day. He quickly informed me that Memorial Day is not for Veterans, but for those who never came home. I’ve thought of that for over 30 years now on every Memorial Day. I was a rambunctious and selfish young man in my 30s who gave very little thought to the real meaning of Veterans’ Day or Memorial Day.

I thought I respected them, but I hadn’t ever just stopped to consider what Memorial Day really is. To tell a Veteran, who has seen his friends fall, that you are thinking of him on Memorial Day is disrespectful.

The fact is that many gave their all for freedom. Over 400,000 died in WW II, Bill Tanner was one of them.

Dad kept his name alive in our family. Bill was born in Ohio, but joined the Navy from his home in Georgia. In 1967, we went to his parents’ home in Georgia. My brother, Mom, and I stayed in the car as Dad went in to talk to Bill’s family. It seemed like a very long time to me.

Dad was quiet as we drove away. But he saw to it that Bill’s name would be remembered.

There are no pictures of Bill Tanner with a wife and children. There are no published stories about what he did after the war because he didn’t get those chances that Dad and others did.

But today, I remember Bill Tanner, and share his story as an example of what SO MANY have given for us to have our freedoms.

To all who gave their all, we are grateful. Think of them today. Honor them by speaking their names. You veterans, make sure your family and friends know at least one name they will not forget.