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An unassuming hero
Roxbury soldier fought alongside Sgt. York, but seldom spoke of the epic World War I battle
RA SPECIAL REPORT
BY GEORGE KRIMSKY
REPUBLICAN-AMERICAN
They are called “The Other 16” — American soldiers who fought valiantly in a bloody battle in World War I, but were shunted aside by the legend of one man’s heroism. It all happened nearly nine decades ago, but their families still want history corrected.
Now, time is running out.
Afew people left around Roxbury still remember Percy Beardsley, an easygoing farmer with a taste for hard cider and an aversion to talking about his combat experiences in World War I. “He never said a word about the war,” said Joseph O’Brien, 93, who knew Beardsley well.
“If you tried to start it, he’d get up and walk away.”
Percy’s father, Nathan, once said he learned more from overhearing an interview that his son reluctantly gave to a reporter than he ever heard from him.
The young veteran kept locked in a drawer a citation from the U.S.
Army he received on May 4, 1919. It read: “During the attack on Hill 180 west of Chatel Chehery, Mechanic Beardsley with a detachment from his company surprised and captured a number of Germans who were delivering a flanking fire on the attacking line.”
That citation alone disputes the oft-repeated claim that Sgt. Alvin C.
York of Tennessee “single-handedly” captured the 132 Germans taken prisoner, not to mention killing another 25, on that fateful day in October 1918 in the Argonne Forest of France. Six other Americans, besides York and Beardsley, were decorated for heroism in that battle.
Beardsley kept quiet about his role in the war until 1927, eight years after returning home, when he was in- See WA R , Page B5
Second of two parts
WAR: Beardsley was a crack shot
Continued from Page One
terviewed by the Waterbury Republican, which had been tipped that a soldier from Roxbury also had been a hero in York’s platoon.
In the interview published May 29, 1927, Beardsley was reported to be tight-lipped about his wartime experiences but revealed that during the Argonne battle he was armed with an automatic rifle (a French Chauchat).
Beardsley said he emptied his weapon several times “and was sure he accounted for at least a few of the 25 dead,” the newspaper reported.
Beardsley stressed in the interview that the victory was due to the efforts of the whole platoon, including its leader, Sgt.
Bernard J. Early of New Haven. The paper said it was Beardsley who “rescued Sgt.
Early under fire after the latter was shot down … He gave his own overcoat to wrap around the sergeant and with another of the detachment carried him back when the detail retired with their prisoners.”
Sure shot
The highly decorated York had been touted as a sure shot from years of shooting squirrels and wild turkey in the Tennessee mountains, but Beardsley had a lot of his own practice in the Roxbury woods.
“I’d back Percy’s shooting against York’s any time,” his father told the paper.
One of Beardsley’s Roxbury friends was playwright Arthur Miller, who would visit the nearby farm with actress Marilyn Monroe, then his wife, in the late 1950s. They would sample the Beardsleys’ famous cider, squeezed from their apple harvest. Father and son always kept about 20 barrels in their cellar and welcomed guests to them.
During one of those visits, Miller asked Beardsley how it could have been possible that York or any one man could have captured all those Germans, as it was portrayed in the 1941 movie “Sergeant York.”
The ex-soldier broke into a wry smile and said “he must have surrounded them.”
The Beardsleys had lived in Roxbury for seven generations, going back to the 18th century when this town was part of Woodbury. Percy, who died childless at the age of 77, was the last in town. But kin remember him.
“He was the best uncle a kid could have, gentle and kind, and a lot of jokes over the cider barrel,” Nathan Beardsley, 79, said on a visit to Roxbury last weekend with his son, Don.
They had driven down from Massachusetts to see the grave and the old farmhouse.
In the process, they happened on a treasure. The current owner of the Beardsley home on Good Hill Road, Alice Shaber, heard they were coming and unearthed a stash of old photos that had been abandoned in a drawer.
“Hey, that’s my grandfather,” exulted Don, 37, pointing to a fading print. He was referring to Percy’s younger brother, Paul, who moved to Massachusetts as a young man.
“He worshipped his older brother,” Nathan said softly.
One of the enduring Roxbury stories was the sight every summer of old Nate Beardsley and his son Percy walking their herd of prize Devon oxen to the Danbury Fair, some 20 miles away. The old man didn’t believe in the internal combustion engine, they say.
J. Lawrence Pond, now 71, whose family farm on the Woodbury line abutted the Beardsley place, remembered one morning as a teen examining a busted fence that separated both properties with Percy.
“It looks like a two-jug job to me,” Percy said, rubbing his chin. Pond doesn’t know exactly how powerful that cider was, but he has a vague memory of spending the night in jail with his brother after the fencemending. And Percy? “Oh, he went back to doing his chores.”
Elinor Hurlbut, Roxbury’s former town clerk, remembered Percy as a “very good looking young man” who was regarded as a good catch until he finally gave up bachelorhood at the age of 57. His bride, a weekender from New York, Louise Lingsch, was “a real raised-pinkie over the teacup type,” recalled nephew Nate.
Local tongues wagged when she brought her sister along on the honeymoon.
When Percy died in 1968, friends and admirers from throughout the area packed First Congregational Church for his funeral. He is buried in the family plot in Roxbury Cemetery under a simple flat stone bearing the inscription: “World War I, Percy P. Beardsley, Mechanic, Co. G 328th Regiment.”
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90th anniversary of battle to be feted
York fan organizing French party
BY GEORGE KRIMSKY
REPUBLICAN-AMERICAN
Plans for the 90th anniversary of the World War I battle in which soldiers from New England fought side-byside with Sgt. Alvin York will focus almost entirely on the soldier from Tennessee, without any identification of the other 16 members of his patrol.
The Republican-American has learned that planning for this October’s celebration in France has been organized by a fervent supporter of the one-man version of the battle, in cooperation with groups from Tennessee.
Among plans hatched for the anniversary by Lt. Col. Douglas Mastriano is the commemoration of the “Sergeant York Historic Trail” at the site of the battle on Oct. 8, 1918, showing “the important locations related to York’s heroism, whose actions saved his battalion from destruction and resulted in the German retreat from the Argonne Forest.”
Families of the other soldiers regard this summary as both insulting and inaccurate.
“We will do everything we can to make sure the true story is told and these men are recognized,” said Robert V. D’Angelo Jr., speaking for the New England families. Exactly what that will be has not yet been decided, but some family members are planning to attend the ceremonies in France.
Even some of York’s strongest boosters agree the legend has gotten out of hand. “I fully agree that the other soldiers who fought with York deserve recognition which has been denied them for far too long,” Michael Birdwell, a Tennessee professor who is curator of the York papers, told The Republican American.
In addition to the trail and a plaque, Mastriano has organized a parachute jump by members of the 82nd Airborne Division, based in Germany, where Mastriano serves as an intelligence officer attached to NATO. The 82nd is the successor to the victorious “All American” Division of the American Expeditionary Force that included the 17-man patrol.
Mastriano has written two books about York and has claimed to have found the exact site of the battle that eluded military historians for eight decades. He also operates a faith-based Web site called the “Sergeant York Patriotic Foundation” with an online souvenir store.
While the New England families have just begun comparing notes and organizing their strategy for the anniversary, organizations in Tennessee have long been working with the French to ensure that their native son remains the main focus. York’s hometown of Pall Mall, Tenn., established a sister city relationship last year with Chatel Chehery, where the battle took place.
The state of Tennessee lists York as one of its most famous citizens, alongside Davy Crockett, Andrew Jackson, Al Gore and Reese Witherspoon.
Alain Rickal, the mayor of Chatel Chehery, told the Republican- American in a telephone interview he was “very pleased with the plans so far for the anniversary, but we welcome any suggestions for including others in the celebrations.”
SMALL TOWN MATTERS
‘Crazy’ family members battle to set record straight
Elsewhere in this paper and in Sunday’s edition is the story of New England families who are trying to gain belated recognition for 16 men who can no longer speak for themselves.
Six of them died together in World War I. The survivors of that battle became casualties of another kind. They became victims of a wartime legend. Their relatives — mostly of the grandchildren’s generation — want history set straight.
It would be natural to wonder what all the commotion is about. None of these soldiers were disgraced, and half of them got medals for heroism.
There are many others who have suffered at the hands of the old saw that says “truth is the first casualty of war.”
What makes this cause so intriguing, however, is that the legend of Sgt. Alvin York has been debunked off and on almost since the first world war ended in 1918. But, like a duck in a shooting gallery, it just won’t stay down. With the 90th anniversary of that battle coming up in October, now it seems destined to pop up again.
“That’s the most frustrating part of all this,” said Bob D’Angelo, greatnephew of one of the soldiers. “The evidence doesn’t seem to help.”
Reasons for the strong legs of this particular legend are worth examining: To begin with, America entered the war late, alongside weary allies and against a demoralized enemy. But, within the span of just 19 months, we lost 53,402 men. It was important to have some good news.
A lone hero, symbolizing America’s image as the rescuer of Europe, fit the bill nicely.
Then there was Sgt. York himself. A backwoods Tennessean, he was an “aw shucks” kind of guy who was handy with a hunting rifle. He found religion late in his youth and was opposed to the war be cause of the Biblical prohibition against killing.
Nevertheless, he did his duty and found himself in the midst of a bloody battle. When he showed up with 132 German prisoners in tow, it was all too good to be true.
If the country hadn’t made such a fuss over him, the question of credit for the others in York’s platoon would probably have died away. But the articles and books kept coming out, hailing York as the “greatest hero” of the war and attributing implausible feats of valor to him, such as wiping out 35 machine gun nests with just a rifle and a pistol.
As veterans from his unit started to compare notes after the war, their fury grew.
Then something happened that really set them off. Hollywood was going to make a movie about York. President Franklin Roosevelt himself was heartily encouraging it as a way to shake the country out of its isolationism as Germany again trampled over Europe.
When the movie starring Gary Cooper came out in 1941, the veterans’ worst fears were confirmed. The single handed heroism myth was now sealed in celluloid. Even dispassionate historians agreed that some of the scenes and men in the movie were entirely fictitious.
The movie’s public popularity didn’t help. One of the veterans, Otis Merrithew of Brookline, Mass., who had enlisted under a false name so his mother wouldn’t see his name on a list of war dead, even made a point of appearing at theaters where the movie was being shown and talking to audiences about what really happened — even if they didn’t like it. Others, like Percy Beardsley of Roxbury, just kept it bottled inside.
Jump ahead a half century.
D’Angelo, a 53-year-old lawyer in Naugatuck, had heard many stories while growing up about his great uncle Bernie Early, the sergeant in charge of the fabled unit. Bob was worried that the upcoming anniversary celebrations would perpetuate the York-only legend. He needed help, but he also wanted to find out “if I am the only crazy one who cares about this.”
He combed through army records, consulted historians, genealogists and even police. He visited libraries, searched the Net and went through phone books, until he finally located a dozen relatives of battle survivors in Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Hampshire and New York.
When they met for the first time this winter, Bob was amazed to find at least one member of every soldier’s family as “crazy” as he was. Together, they resume the battle.
George Krimsky can be reached at gkrimsky@rep-am.com.His column can be heard at www.rep-am. com
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