May 25, 2008

Glimpse of a Fly Boy
Fort Dalles Museum dedicates exhibit of aviator’s belongings

By ED COX
of The Dalles Chronicle

     Nearly all the artifacts of a soldier’s all-too-short life are on display in a single, table-sized glass case at the Fort Dalles Museum.
     Two pairs of baby shoes, newspaper clippings, eyeglasses, a comb and lock of hair, a set of naval aviator’s wings, photos, certificates ... and a somber telegram informing the family of his final status change: from missing to killed in action.
     The telegram is dated March 1, 1945. The conflict, of course, is World War II, and the serviceman is Lt. (junior grade) Eugene R. Lee, a Washington state native and Portland high school graduate who spent at least 10 of his boyhood years in The Dalles.
     In front of the case — below the label bearing his name and the two numbers (7-2-1919 and 12-29-1944) that mark the start and end of his days — is a binder that tells the human story.
     It’s a re-typed collection of Lee’s letters from his Navy time, addressed to his mother, Lois. It includes the very first one he wrote, dated June 27, 1942:
     “Last Monday, they started sticking needles in us. We got three in about half a minute — Typhus, tetanus and small pox. Monday night I felt pretty droopy, but I didn’t get sick like two or three of the fellows did. Most of the week I had a pair of pretty sore wings, though. We start all over again day after tomorrow.”
     It contains various missives from mid-way through his service, such as this one dated Oct. 19, 1943:
     “By the time this reaches you I’ll be on my way. We’re aboard ship right now and expect to shove off tomorrow. We’re tied up at the dock at the San Diego NAS right now, and I’m going ashore to mail this tonight and have another civilian meal before leaving.”
     And it contains his very last letter, penned the day before his plane crashed into the waves during a training flight from the USS Enterprise, an aircraft carrier and night air combat training center off the coast of China.
     “We flew aboard the carrier from our base which I can now say was at [cut out],” reads his second paragraph. “...We’ve been pretty busy getting used to the shipboard routine again and also doing some intensive training exercises ... I have to go [cut out]. I won’t be ‘practice’ for much longer, however. We have our work pretty well mapped out for us.”
     Finally — and poignantly — the binder contains the letter, marked “Returned to sender,” that his mother wrote on Jan. 11, 1945, nearly two weeks after he died:
     “Well, the newspapers tell us how busy you are. All we can do is imagine where you are. But wherever that is, we know that you are very busy. So far, it sounds as though all the luck is on our side. I hope it continues in just that same line, but of course we can’t expect not to have some tough breaks. I suppose the sooner we wade right into it, the sooner it will be over and all you boys can get back to a normal life again.”
     What, exactly, Lee experienced of a normal life before entering the Navy weeks shy of his 23rd birthday, we don’t know. But it will have had something to do with The Dalles and something to do with Portland, Multnomah College and the University of Washington.
     And whatever it was that prepared him mentally, and morally, for near-combat will have had much to do with his youthful “career” in the Boy Scouts of America.
For another, smaller glass case — this one mounted on the museum’s wall — contains a whistle, multiple merit and uniform badges, and several colorful, vintage Scout membership cards.
     Lee was a “loyal and committed Scout.” That’s the judgement of Ray Weiss, scoutmaster of The Dalles Troop 395, who was on hand May 12 with his assistant and various troop members to inaugurate the exhibit with a solemn poem reading and flag passing.
     In fact, the elements of the exhibit — sub-titled “An Oregon serviceman who did not make it home” — were donated to the museum 24 years ago by Lee’s niece.
     But is wasn’t until museum director Hilary Hines saw an Oregon Public Broadcasting special on World War II earlier this year that she was inspired to dust them off and set them out.
     At the inauguration, Weiss pointed out Lee’s scouting accomplishments, which included becoming a leader and attaining the rank of Eagle, scouting’s highest.
     And he noted that being a Boy Scout during World War II was a risky decision, given Hitler’s penchant for infiltrating that youth organization based on high moral values and military-style discipline.
     While the Scouts were soon banned and forced underground in many European countries, that was not the case in the U.S., and Lee “made scouting a career of his youth,” Weiss said.
     “Eugene Lee is an American Hero,” the scoutmaster told his boys as they stood at solemn attention in their own uniforms. “He made that decision as a young man when he chose to be a Boy Scout.”
     Eugene Lee’s name is on the Tablets of the Missing at the Honolulu Memorial, on a memorial located in Section MA Site 36 at Willamette National Cemetery in Portland, and on a memorial stone in a family plot at the IOOF Cemetery in The Dalles.
     His artifacts can be viewed at the Fort Dalles Museum at 500 West 15th Street in The Dalles. The museum is now open seven days a week (at least through Labor Day) from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.