After two years of intense research about my father's involvement and role in the war and after communicating and reconnecting dozens of old vets from my father's WW II unit (325 Glider Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division, WW II), the regiment asked me to give the dedication speech for the plaque that was laid in their honor at Arlington National Cemetery in November, 1996.
Matt
Too often forgotten are those who died here in the US that were part of the sacrifices made.
My Uncle Bill died on his 21st birthday in CT. He rode his flaming P-47 into the ground on a training flight to prevent crashing into civilian housing.
This is a little long, but today is a day to put history ahead of beer and brats:
An iOTWreport Memorial Day Tradition
May 29, 2017 BFH Uncategorized 6
Tammy and iOTWreport invites everyone to enjoy this speech by WWII veteran, marine, Marshall E. Harris.
Mr. Harris will be 92 next month. He resides, happily, in Texas.
MEMORIAL DAY May 31st, 2010
VETERAN’S MEMORIAL PARK, RICHFIELD, MN
SPEECH GIVEN BY MARSHALL E. HARRIS, WWII MARINE WHO WITNESSED THE FLAG RAISING ON IWO JIMA
Today, the last Monday in May—Memorial Day—is a time for us to honor those who fought, bled and died in the service to our nation. It also is a time to rejoice in those who still live and remember our fallen comrades!! And it is a day to mark the graves and remember veterans of the past who are no longer with us.
So ladies and gentlemen, today let’s remember those thousands of men and women of the military over the last 234 years, have paid the price to strengthen the ramparts that protect freedom for all America. With humble admiration, respect, and reverence, patriotic Americans everywhere will honor their memory—the memory of those who fought and died to keep our nation free of tyranny.
All veterans who have been in harms way will reflect on the loss of comrades in arms, and renew the pledge to keep alive the memory of departed comrades. On this day each year we all remember fathers, brothers, sisters, husbands, sons and daughters, relatives or friends who were lost at sea or returned home in caskets covered with the American Flag.
My memory of armed conflict goes back 66 years to Saipan, the Tinian and Iwo Jima. Now, at 85, the pledge to keep the memory alive of those that paid the final price has become a pivotal point in almost all I do and say!!! There is a flag pole in my front yard and during the warm summer months, usually at the break of dawn, I wander out into the yard and look up at those stars and stripes waving in the breeze (and yes, there is also a United States Marine Flag below), I stop, pause and just for a fleeting moment I’m on Saipan, Tinian or
Iwo Jima and the names flash by–Bob, Lewis, Caldwell, McDaniel, Bistline, Evans, Oftidal, Lt. Michaels, Major Bevans—and then I’m back. Can’t help it, that’s just the way it is. This is why memorial day, flag day Veteran’s Day, the Fourth of July are so important to our nation—a time to reflect on our heroes of the past.
Perhaps before we get too far along we should go back about 147 years to a time when America was in its darkest hours, a most painful time in American history—The Civil War—or, as most folks in the South prefer to call it, “the war between the States”.
A heart-warming story of how Memorial Day, as we know it, might have started, on the site of a bloody battle on the outskirt of Columbus, Mississippi 1863. A group of women walked among the fresh graves. They carried wildflowers to lay on the graves of their Confederate soldiers who were buried there. As they moved from one grave to another, they noticed another group of graves off to one side. These Graves were clearly the graves of Union soldiers who had died in the same battle on the same field of battle. With little hesitation and very little discussion they began to lay their flowers on those graves as well. The compassion of those Southern ladies for those who died fighting against their husbands, their fathers and their own sons gave a clear message that in DEATH, all are equal!! This small gesture was passed on by word of mouth. Union and Confederate soldiers alike were touched by this simple act of honor, and the healing of a nation slowly began to take place! Just a few years later a union veterans organization called the Grand Old Army of the Republic, decided to designate a special day to honor the fallen from both sides. The following order was issued: “The 30th day of May, 1868 and each year hereafter is designated for the purpose of strewing with flowers or otherwise decorating the graves of
comrades who died on the field of battled during that terrible conflict, whose bodies now lie in almost every city, village and hamlet churchyard in the land. We should guard their graves with sacred vigilance”. 17th President, Andrew Johnson, who followed Lincolns Presidency, issued the order. Present day, instead of the 30th of May it is the last Monday in May.
So no in the present day, on this last Monday in May, the cemeteries in cities, towns villages, and small country hamlets will be dotted with small flags, to show that a Veteran of past wars is buried there.
The sounds of rifle salutes will pierce the silence, and in our Nation’s Capitol, a 21-gun salute to the departed Veterans of all wars will fill the air with plumes of smoke, and a fighter squadron of military jets, in missing man formation, will roar through the skies over those green rolling hills of Arlington National Cemetery!!
And in the quiet silence of those thousands in attendance, a wreath will be laid on the tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Then, at a certain moment, when all is quiet, the haunting sound of taps will break the silence, and echo in our hearts and minds the unmistakable reminder of the sacrifices our Nation’s sons and daughters of the Armed Forces have made for devotion to duty—love of their country—the preservation and protection of freedom throughout our nation and the world!
He very freedoms we enjoy on a daily basis were bought and paid for with their lives.
When our forefathers, who wrote the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution, The Articles and amendments, knew that the cause of freedom is the cause of God, and that personal liberty is the paramount essential to human dignity and human happiness. Their writings embodied freedom of the press, freedom of speech, freedom to worship, freedom from want,
freedom from fear, freedom of assembly. Those freedoms propelled our nation to greatness and served as a guiding light for democracy for 234 years. On this special day each year, we thank God for young men and women who will come forth and protect those freedoms.
Our forefathers gave us the words, then we ask???
Who paid the price of freedom??? It was an American soldier in World War I as he went over the top of a trench in France and was shot and killed. It was a sailor lost at sea when his ship was torpedoed. A Marine caught in a cross fire in a firefight in Vietnam who came home to his Mom and Dad in a coffin, covered with the American flag.
Who gave us the freedom to worship in our own way? It was the fighter pilot who went down in flames. A sailor who died as a kamikaze suicide plane slammed into his ship off Okinawa. Or a soldier who took a bullet on Normandy Beach, June 6, 1944! They all fought, bled, and died so that the words our forefathers put in the constitution would remain unaltered through time!
No victory is without its unsung heroes. And in 234 years, our Nation has given up 662,000 of our military defending that constitution and our freedoms—truly unsung heroes!! 17 million men and women served in the Second World War, in harms way, all over the world. Our Nation gave up 408,000 killed in action and 115,000 in non-hostile deaths. Additionally, 671,846 wounded came home to fill hospitals in America.
Serving in the Marine Corps in the capture of Saipan, Tinian and that hellish battle on Iwo Jima, I was one of the lucky ones who survived, with nothing
more than a scar on my left arm, and a right leg that makes me walk a little awkward. Saipan, Tinian and Iwo Jima were just THREE of hundreds of battles that took place all over the world. I speak mostly of those three Islands because of lost buddies, and thousands unknown, whose names will never be forgotten, as comrades in arms.
They cannot speak for themselves. I feel in my heart and soul that the words spoken here would be echoed by those thousand who paid the price of freedom during WW2 and the 36,568 who took their last breath in Korea, the 58,204 men and women of the armed services that came home to their families from Vietnam, in coffins, covered with the American flag, and the thousands of our military who died in the current conflict, the war against terror.
The freedoms we are talking about today are so deeply embedded in the moral fabric of our Nation that we, as a Nation of free people, will suffer any hardship— make any sacrifices—
pay any price— endure any pain— and die in battle, if necessary to stay FREE.
Throughout our 234 years of history, no issue has had a more positive effect on our well being than our National heritage—our freedoms. And throughout our history, no issue has cost more in military lives, rained havoc on our financial stability, incited and inflamed our citizenry more, than the threat of losing that heritage—our freedoms!!
We have always been a Nation of dignity, morality and faith in our government, generous and friendly to our neighbors, and those across both oceans.
But when our freedoms are threatened either on the domestic front or from enemies abroad, things change overnight!! And our Nation pulls out all stops to defend and keep our freedoms intact.
Five days into the battle for Iwo Jima, casualties had been unbelievably high, progress had been slow, and Iwo Jima was taken one hundred yards at a time. A time we all knew we were in real trouble. Then, on the way back to our command post for more ammunition and fuel for our tank, there was a small flag being raised on top of Surabachi.
Five guys from 2nd BN 28th Marines—5th Marine Division. WOW, the little flag that gave us all a shot in the arm a reason to fight on! Chuck Lindberg, whose image stands out on this memorial for all Veterans, was one of the Marines who raised the first flag. That was the flag that gave us all a shot in the arm, a reason to go on amidst the slaughter that was taking place all around us. Marines and sailors and CB’s cheered, ships whistles all around the island sounded, and in the middle of “hell on earth” there was hope!! It was the first American flag to be raised on Japanese soil in World War II!! The killing went on for 30 more days and in the end, all but 213 of the 23,000 enemy troops had been destroyed. Military victory, I suppose you could say. Victory, yes, but glorious victory, not. There was no glory in that victory!!
They would not know that their sacrifice substantially shortened the war. They would not know that their sacrifices saved over 25, 000 airmen from crashing into the cold North Pacific by making emergency landings on Iwo Jima, that tiny volcanic island they fought, bled and died for.
They would not know that their contribution in taking Iwo Jima cleared the skies of enemy aircraft so that the Enola Gay and the Boxcar, the two B-29’a
could safely reach Japan and return after dropping their nuclear bombs, bringing Japan to their knees and abruptly ended the war!! And they would not know that invading Japan with millions of our military would no longer be necessary, saving millions of God’s children on both sides.
But, ladies and gentlemen, WE KNOW. Yes, we know. As their sacrifices were joined with the 622,000 American military who gave their lives during the last 234 years, fighting for the oppressed millions of the world and protecting America’s lasting legacy—our FREEDOMS.
In closing, I want to relate the charge given to all as the hostilities wound down on Iwo Jima. We went over to where the graves division had erected a white picket fence enclosing those thousands of white crosses marking the location of those temporary graves of those killed in action. In body bags, sealed in a wooden coffin, lying in wait for a time after the war when they would all be brought home to their families and loved ones.
They came from all corners of America—Hispanic, Jewish, Italian, Indian, colored, and white, rich and poor. Together, as one unit, they fought to make a difference. That, ladies and gentlemen, is the purest and highest form of democracy.
Hear the word of our Chaplin as we stood there at attention. He said, “Any man among us, the living, the survivors of this carnage, this massacre, this unthinkable display of death and destruction, who fails to understand our sacred obligation and duty to keep their memory alive will thereby betray those who lie here dead”. Then added these words:
“Whoever lifts a hand against his brother in hate, makes of their bloody sacrifices, an empty, hollow mockery”. Words that will echo in our minds until we die.
What I just related to you was only taking place on a tiny dot in the Pacific as the battle wound down. The same honor and respect was taking place in battle areas all over Europe, where Americans had given it all for the freedom of the world.
Today is the day for remembering respect and honor. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for listening, and May God Bless America!!!
It saddens me that on this day of remembrance, that there are those who would erase part of our history and building blocks that made this country so wonderful and unique. Those that have studied history have seen what comes from the removal and revisionism of our past...
I'd like to add a little observation. Wife and I drove across the state yesterday (Sunday) and instead of using the interstate, took back roads and secondaries. While the left and media present this country through hallucinogenic lenses, we saw even in small communities numerous churches with parking lots filled showing God is still important to "fly-over-country". Further, even though Memorial Day weekend...there were flags flying everywhere...many presented showing it wasn't just for Memorial Day as Old Glory flew from flag poles in yards and commercial properties.
God Bless America.
A Day I Shall Never Forget
On the afternoon of May 13, our crew reported for duty to Patrol Bombing Squadron 18 which was stationed aboard the seaplane tender, U.S.S. St. George, which was at Karoma Retto Island about 16 miles west of Okinawa. For most of us, it was our first time in the forward area and we were all a little excited over it.
The next day we were called into the ACI office and briefed for our first patrol, which was to be the next day. We were also given a short review on recognition of the type of Jap merchant ships that we might run into.
Next morning at 0330, we were awakened for the patrol. This was May 15, 1945, a day that I shall never forget. It was still dark out and a slow drizzling rain was falling. At 0500, we left the ship and took a boat out to the plane we were to fly that day. At 0615, we were ready for the take-off and by 0630, we were airborne and headed out to an outlying island to join up with the plane that was to fly wing with us for the day.
The other plane was a little late to join up, but by 0700, we were both underway on our mission. As soon as we were out of the area of American shipping we test fired all guns and made sure everything was ready for action.
Our mission was to take us up along the west coast of Kyusha as far north as Korea then over to Korea and back to the ship. We held a steady course for the next few hours, getting deep into Jap territory and I think most of the crew was more or less hoping to run into something.
About 1100 we got our wish. We spotted a small Jap ship in the sugar dog class and also a few sailboats, but we were only interested in the larger ship.
The other plane made the first run. As they bore down, the bow gunner opened fire and strafed the ship. They dropped one hundred-pound bomb, but overshot the ship about 10 feet.
We came in for the second run. I was the bow gunner on our crew and as we came in on the target, they opened fire on us, so I concentrated all my firepower on the bow of the ship. By the time we had closed to 1,000 feet, their guns were out of commission, but by this time, it was too late to fire at anything else, as we were closing so fast. We also dropped a 100-pound bomb, but our tail gunner, C. Worley, of Oklahoma City, reported that it had dropped about 10 feet short, but the concussion rocked the Jap ship and seemed to do internal damage because it stopped and lay still in the water. Both the other crew and our own made another strafing run and the ship was left in a sinking condition.
We had only flown for a few minutes more when we spotted our next target. It was another freighter of the fox tail Charley class. Mr. Marc, who was in command of the other crew, wanted to make the first run on it, so Lieutenant Hart, who was PPC of our crew, told him to go ahead and we would take pictures.
He brought his plane in from the stern on his bombing run and to our surprise, the Jap ship kept on a straight and steady course. Again, the bow gunner strafed the decks as they came in. When they got on target, they dropped all their bombs and got a direct hit with a 500-pounder just aft of the superstructure. Smoke, flame, and debris shot two or three hundred feet into the air. It looked like the ship would sink instantly, but it kept on steaming ahead at full speed.
Since the crew had dropped all their bombs, it was up to us to join in and finish the job. We came around into position and started in. When we closed the gap to 3000 feet, steam began shooting out of the ship from all sides. Just as we got to 2000 feet, it exploded violently from stem to stern. As we closed the remaining distance, it sunk out of sight and as we passed over the spot there was nothing left but a muddy swirl and about 50 survivors clinging to debris floating around.
As we pulled away from this scene I spotted another ship about 20 miles away and over by the island of Kyushu, so we still had all our bombs but one, we went after it. By the time we reached our attacking position, we had gained about 1500 feet altitude.
As we started in on the freighter, it began evasive action by twisting and turning in the water and giving us her broadside for a target. We broke off the run and started trying to catch up with her stern so as to have a better target. Finally, we succeeded in making a run from about 30 degrees off her stern. As we closed in on her, I looked for gun positions, but saw none, so I opened fire on her cabin and superstructure and anything else that looked good as a target. We dropped our bombs and again our tail gunner made his reports. One 500-pounder dropped right down by the ship’s hull and brought it to a standstill.
As we came around to try for another run, I got another look at it. She lay dead in the water and listed badly and looked like she was sinking fast.
At this moment R.G. Graf, our deck gunner from Ohio, reported we had a bad oil leak in our port engine. The engine began to pop and miss and it soon caught on fire. It was then discovered that it had been hit pretty bad and it looked like we would have to go on single engine operation.
The fire soon went out, but the engine got worse and the pilot ordered all remaining bombs jettisoned and all ammunition except 200 rounds for each turret, thrown overboard. I had already fired all my ammo except a few rounds in the starboard gun, so I called the first ordinance man to bring some more and he brought enough to make me about 200 rounds.
By this time, the port engine was only putting out very little power, but we seemed to be holding our altitude pretty well. From the ships we had just sunk, we took a course toward our tender.
We had only flown about 15 minutes when we were attacked by about ten Jap fighters. The other plane was between them and us so they all made their first attack on the other plane. Their first run was successful and hit the other PBM’s starboard engine, setting it on fire and also putting the plane out of control. At the same time, the gunners on the other plane sent one Jap fighter down in flames, but the PBM followed it down and exploded when it hit the water, and it is presumed that the entire crew was killed instantly.
By this time, we had got down to about 20 feet above the water for more protection against the fighters. The rest of the Japs all came after us and soon had overhauled us. On the first attack, five came in from the bow at once. They had 20MMs in their wings so they could open fire before we could on them. After the first five made their run, I looked out to the port side and saw one plane heading back for land with its engine on fire and leaving a long trail of smoke. But his final outcome I will never know.
By this time, others were attacking us in singles and pairs and it wasn’t long until they had hit our port engine again, and it burst into flames.
Since we were so short of ammunition, we could only fire real short bursts. We were getting a few of them, but they were also hitting us. After several minutes of this our engine was leaving a black trail of smoke several miles long and the fighters soon let up, thinking we were going to crash or explode in the air. We flew for another ten or fifteen minutes like this with the fighters tailing us at a distance, but when we kept flying they overtook us and started in on us again. I saw one burst into flames, but another one shot out our port rudder.
At this time, we knew we were going to crash. We were all out of ammo and could only point empty guns at the oncoming planes. In the next few minutes, more earnest prayers were never spoken by any 13 men because we all figured it was the end.
The two pilots did everything they could to keep the plane up, but we gradually got closer to the water until finally we hit with a great crash but bounced into the air again. On the first crash, our port engine sheared off from its mountings and dropped into the ocean until all the fire was snuffed out.
We also lost our port wing float. Our second crash followed shortly. As we came down, I put my hands over my face for protection, still not having much hope. Again on the second crash we hit just right and bounced into the air again. By this time, the plane was nothing but a flying piece of junk.
We hit the third time and once again bounced into the air but we were going so slow now that we came down in a hurry for the fourth and final time.
I crawled out of the escape hatch of my turret and took a quick once-over of what used to be a plane. The port engine was gone and so was the float. The port rudder wasn’t to be seen. The wings had several holes in them. The rest of the plane forward wasn’t so bad, but from the waist on back, it was full of bullet holes.
No one had been wounded and no one had been seriously hurt in the crashes. I made my way back to the waist on top of the fuselage. At this moment, I looked behind me and saw a Jap plane coming in on us. I figured he was going to strafe us, but instead he dipped one wing and circled two or three times before leaving.
There were only three planes still with us when we crashed. We had shot down three and sent two more away on fire, but as for the rest of them, we didn’t know what happened to them.
Our plane was sinking fast and we only got out two four-man life rafts. The starboard engine was still running and the plane was drifting back on us, threatening to destroy the rafts or anything that got in its way. The waves were between 30 and 40 feet high and there was a 40-knot wind blowing. The plane would ride high on a wave and the engine would pick up speed. Then it would come crashing down in the swell and the engine would almost die.
We decided we had to get away from there as fast as we could. Both rafts were together and on the starboard side. We made our way to the end of the wing but had to get away from there, too, because the starboard wing float would ride high into the air and then come crashing down with sledgehammer force. We still didn’t know how many men were on the rafts or who was missing, but soon found out that four men were missing.
We heard someone shout for help and at the same time spotted one man almost 200 feet out in front of the plane, just as he rode over a wave. After he disappeared over the crest of the wave, we saw him no more.
We saw the other three men out on the port wing tip and tried to make our way around to them. By this time the plane had sunk down to where only the wings and radar dome and a little of the rudder were showing, and with each wave these would go under and then reappear between waves.
After working as fast and as hard as we could for several minutes, we finally made our way to the first man who happened to be Mr. Hart. We pulled him onto the raft that I was in and started after the second man. We were almost to within 30 feet of him when suddenly two or three extra large waves hit us and separated us by nearly 200 feet. Shortly after that he, too, disappeared, and we had to give up in total exhaustion.
By this time, it was nearly 1330 and we were all so tired that we just slumped down in the two rafts and didn’t do anything for about an hour. We had all swallowed so much salt water and gasoline that seasickness took hold of most of us. During the afternoon, our raft upset about seven times and finally we let it fill up with water so it wouldn’t capsize. The wind was cold and water was splashing over us all the time and numbness was beginning to set in.
A little while later we spotted another Jap plane about three miles away. It was a single-engine plane. It circled around in the distance a few times and then went back to the island we could see. We were about 25 miles from this island and about the same from the main island of Kyushu. About an hour after the first float plane disappeared, two more came out to about the same place, but they, too, soon went back to the island.
Late in the afternoon, we saw two Navy privateers and tried to attract their attention but to no avail. At just about dusk we spotted two PBMs in the distance. We waited until they came as close as their course would bring them to us and then started shooting flares to attract their attention. To our great enjoyment, they spotted us and came over to where we were. There was no chance of them rescuing us by plane because the water was too wild. We also knew that our only chance of rescue at all would be if a friendly submarine was in the area. Both planes soon left and were gone more than an hour before they returned. It was dark now and we had to shoot more flares to let them know where we were. Again, they left for a while.
A heavy storm was approaching not far off. There was a lot of lightening and by the flashes, we could see that we were drifting fast toward the Jap island. About 2300 that night, the planes were back over us and we were using .38 tracers to let them know where we were. From then on, there was at least one of them overhead at all times.
About midnight the Japs started flashing a searchlight all around from the island. We were getting so close that we could make out the outlines of trees when the light was on them.
Another light appeared on the surface of the water not too far away which turned out to be a submarine. The planes overhead started dropping parachute flares and had their landing lights on. The sub had his spotlight on us and so did the Japs. It was almost as bright as day.
The sub made its way up close to us and the boys shot us lines. We grabbed the lines and they pulled us alongside, but the waves were still very high and it was difficult to get aboard. Two of our crew nearly drowned, but after many minutes, all ten of us were dragged below decks.
We were first given a good shot of brandy and then a cup of hot coffee and a bowl of hot soup. I think this was the best tasting food that I ever had. After we were finished eating, they gave us a good rubdown and a bunk to sleep in. We stayed on this sub the rest of that night and the next day and night. During that time, the boys gave us chow, clothes, and toilet articles and everything we needed.
On the morning of May 17, we were transferred to another submarine and were brought back to port. We arrived on May 24th, which ended nine and a half days of the best treatment that we ever received in the Navy.
Then we were sent to a rest camp in the Marianas. On Sunday, June 17, we were back in Okinawa again. That night we slept aboard a transport ship out in the bay. A little after midnight the Japs made a raid and tried to bomb our ship, but only hit and sank a little ship close by. The next day we went over to our Squadron. We were all given physical exams to see if we were qualified for further flying, but only three of us passed. Five of the boys were sent back from the squadron, but the other five of us are still here, but all in different crews.
A few days after we went back in the squadron the Japs made a successful Kamikaze attack on one of our ships close by. The first Jap plane came in fast and made a direct hit damaging but not sinking the ship it hit. Sixty-four men were killed, though. The second one that came in was too slow. It headed for another target next to us, but was hit by a five-inch shell and crashed short of its mark, but flying debris and burning gasoline seriously wounded two men. A few days later, our squadron moved back to the Marianas and took up anti-sub patrol. At the war’s end, our squadron held about the best record of any patrol squadron out here. At the present time we are hauling mail between Saipan and Tokyo.
Rear Admiral Robert B. Fulton, USN (Ret.), 104, passed peacefully from this life on 18 February 2015 at Baptist Reynolds Hospice House in Collierville, TN. He grew up in Washington, DC, and after graduation from the US Naval Academy in 1932, he served on the cruisers Raleigh and Indianapolis and the destroyer Dickerson. He coached crew at the Naval Academy and began a graduate course in marine engineering, receiving an MS degree in 1941 from MIT.
He was then ordered to the Asiatic Fleet where he received orders to USS Houston to serve through the early months of WWII. When Houston was sunk in the Battle of Sunda Straight in the early hours of 1 March 1942, he managed to swim ashore to the island of Java. There he was captured by a Japanese army patrol. He was forced to work on their landing beaches unloading supplies and then was marched to the town of Serang to be imprisoned first in a movie theater and then in the local jail.
In April 1942, he became part of a group of eight Houston officers who were taken to Japan to the naval interrogation camp in Ofuna. Then in September, he was moved to the POW camp in the town of Zentsuji. From there in June 1945, he was moved to a remote camp site, termed Rokuroshi, in the mountains of Honshu. It was there that units of the American First Cavalry came to recover him and his shipmates at the end of the war.
After the war, he returned to active duty. He was designated for engineering duty and served in that capacity in various stations, including Norfolk and Boston Naval Shipyards, the Navy Department in Washington, and as Supervisor of Shipbuilding in New York. In 1957 he joined the staff of the Commander in Chief, US Atlantic Fleet, as Deputy Chief of Staff of Logistics. Then in 1959, he assumed command of the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard where he directed the work of that industrial facility in the building and repair of ships. While stationed there, he was advanced in rank to Rear Admiral. His final tour of duty was in the Naval Ships Systems Command in Washington, DC. He managed all ship engineering activities (excluding nuclear) throughout the Navy and was awarded the Distinguished Service Medal for his work there.
After retiring from active duty in 1968, he came to Memphis, TN to participate in the startup of the State Technical Institute. He headed a division offering degrees in seven engineering disciplines. These engineering technology programs all received professional accreditation and have attracted interest from corporate employers. After retiring from that position, he remained active in community affairs in Memphis. He was an elder in the Presbyterian Church and served on the boards of charitable and civic organizations. His wife, Frances McCarley Fulton and their children, Frances Anne Fulton and William L. Fulton predecease him. He is survived by his grandchildren, Michelle Fulton Hauser (John) of Dorado, PR, and Robert E. Fulton of Washington, DC, his son-in-law, Jim Good of Mountain View, AR, his godson, Capt. Frederic N. Howe, Jr. USN (Ret.) of Fredericksburg, VA, and his caregiver friend, Nancy Herndon of Oakland, TN. He leaves behind many family members, friends, shipmates, associates, doctors and nurses, who have all meant so much to him. A service and interment will be held at a later date at Arlington National Cemetery. Donations may be made to Baptist Reynolds Hospice House, 1520 W. Poplar, Collierville, TN 38017, or to First Presbyterian Church, 166 Poplar, Memphis, TN 38103, or to Stephen Ministry of Collierville United Methodist Church, 454 W. Poplar, Collierville, TN 38017, or to Huntington’s Disease Society of America.
