#163 - One Soldier's Story; Bob Dole, Part I

Since my unique military career only saw serve in one true division, and given that I was a company commander in that division AND deployed with it to Afghanistan, the 10th Mountain Division has a special place in my heart. Because of that, I have wanted to tell the story of arguably the division's most famous soldier for some time now, and I am finally getting around to it.

Many people are likely familiar with Senator Bob Dole's political career, but I wager that fewer know the specifics of his World War II service, aside from his severe injury. And it was his injury that inspired him to write his autobiography, to give people a batter understanding of what wounded warriors go through when they return from the battlefield.

This week's Ghost of Arlington is:

Army Sergeant Craig Lewis Nelson - Hillcrest Memorial Park and Mausoleum, Red Chute, Louisiana

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:02

When people of a certain age think of Bob Dole, one of the first things that comes to mind is likely Norm MacDonald's hilarious impersonation of the then presidential candidate on Saturday Night Live in the mid-90s. Like this commercial for NBC's Thursday night TV lineup staged as a mock Dole Clinton debate.

SPEAKER_04 0:26

Thursday night is NBC's blockbuster night. How do you feel about it, Mr. President? I'm a complex man of many emotions. Yeah, many emotions. Hunger, lust, and hunger. Have some more minion rings, Bubba. I can relate to the youth and vigor of friends, the single guy Seinfeld, and the new Brooke Shields comedy, Suddenly Susan.

SPEAKER_06 0:44

Mr. Dole.

SPEAKER_00 0:53

It wasn't until after the election and Dole's loss to incumbent Bill Clinton that most of America saw that while he was very focused while on the campaign trail, he had a great sense of humor. Following the election, he made an appearance on SNL alongside McDonald to criticize his impersonation. While recovering from a routine medical procedure at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, DC, former Senator Bob Dole and his wife Elizabeth were meeting with soldiers who had been wounded in Afghanistan and Iraq on Christmas Day in two thousand four. Himself, a severely wounded World War II vet, Dole always met, shook hands with, and offered words of encouragement to those in a similar situation in which he had found himself sixty years earlier. On this day a woman and her daughter approached him. She introduced herself as a distant relative and told the senator about her son, Craig Nelson, who was currently at Walter Reed and who would like to meet him. Dole obliged and soon found himself standing at the bedside of a soldier he felt an immediate kinship with. Nelson had been badly wounded while on patrol in Iraq about a week and a half before Christmas. He suffered severe damage to his C one vertebra and was paralyzed from the neck down. His friend and high school classmate, specialist Ryan Jacobson, administered first aid to him after the blast which likely helped him survive until the medics arrived and was likely the reason he had made it back to the States. He couldn't move. He was hooked up to all sorts of medical machines with various tubes running to his body, an electrocardiogram monitoring his heart, a respirator helping him breathe, a tracheotomy in his throat that prevented speech. Even so, the young man communicated a lot through his eyes, which brightened up when he saw Dole. Looking at Nelson, Dole felt nearly overwhelmed with emotion. He later wrote it was like seeing a mirror image of his younger self. He was tall and muscular, about six feet one and a half inches tall and about one hundred eighty five pounds, almost identical to my World War II height and weight. For a moment I was back there in a similar hospital bed, encased in plaster, unable to move, paralyzed from the neck down. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest. I knew the rough road Craig had before him, and his condition was far worse than mine had been. I reached out my hand, touched the soldier's arm, and said, Good luck, Craig, you're in a great hospital. They'll take good care of you. After a short stay, the Dolves left, but not before asking Craig's mother to keep in touch and to let them know if there was anything they could do to help. Unfortunately, Army Sergeant Craig Lewis Nelson died just a few days later. He was interred at Hillcrest Memorial Park in Mausoleum in Red Chute, Louisiana. He was just twenty one years old. Dole grieved for the family and became determined to finish his autobiography and hoped that his story would do something to help others understand the pain and trauma of the service members and their loved ones returning home from the battlefield wounded. Not just from Afghanistan, not just from Iraq, but from all battlefields. Sure, he was just one soldier, but this was a story as old as warfare, in other words, as old as time. Welcome back to Ghosts of Arlington. I am your host Jackson Irish, tracing the shadows of Arlington National Cemetery through the lives buried there. Today we begin the life of arguably the most famous soldier in the history of my tenth Mountain Division, as he shares his story of war, wounds, and a long road to recovery. Thank you for joining me for episode one hundred and sixty three One Soldier's Story Bob Dole, Part One. Robert Joseph Dole came into the world on july twenty second, nineteen twenty three in Russell, Kansas, a town settled just after the Civil War, initially by German Russian immigrants from Ripon, Wisconsin, which later became the self professed birthplace of the modern Republican Party. These immigrants were soon followed by enterprising souls from England, Ireland, and Wales. Tracks were being laid through the area and the railroad was giving away land to anyone who would farm it. Though initially a desolate place often referred to on maps as the Great American Desert, by the time Dole was born, Turkey red wheat had been introduced to South Central Kansas and this portion of the Midwest had been transformed into the American breadbasket we know today. In Dole's own words, it seemed a place plucked right out of Catherine Lee Bates' anthem America the Beautiful. This part of Kansas, along Interstate seventy, smacked between Missouri to the east and Colorado to the west is defined by its spacious skies and amber waves of grain. He also says that with its town charter based on the Pilgrims Mayflower Compact, local culture was firmly embedded in quote rock solid, time tested principles of faith in God, love of family, and loyalty to friends, a quintessential Midwestern community, a picture postcard of rustic values and plain spoken wisdom, that didn't suffer stuffed shirts, bigots, or blowhards. Folks called each other by their first names and took an interest in one another's families, laughed together when things were going well, and cried with one another when times were tough, as they often were for the people of Russell. Dole's father Doran had also been born in Russell. His family had come to Kansas to farm, but instead of owning their own land, they had to deal with being tenants, giving one third of their annual harvest to a landlord and living on what was left, which often wasn't enough. When Dorin turned seventeen, the United States had just entered World War I, so he and a friend dropped out of school, pretended to be eighteen, and enlisted in the army. They had visions of seeing action in Europe, but instead were posted in Ohio and Texas for the duration of the war. After the war, Dorin returned home and fell in love with a girl named Bina. She was the energetic eldest of twelve children in a family with a farm just a few miles outside of town. In early nineteen twenty one, Doran and Bina married and opened a small cafe in town. He was twenty one, she was eighteen. Neither possessed a high school diploma, but both were bright and determined to succeed. Unfortunately for the newlyweds, few people in Russell could afford to eat out and they soon had to close the cafe. Before the end of the year, the couple's first child, a daughter named Gloria, was born. Bob followed two years later. In nineteen twenty four, another boy Kinney joined the family, followed by another daughter, Norma Jean in nineteen twenty five. The year Dole was born, a mini financial boom hit Russell when oil was discovered about twenty five miles or forty kilometers north, which brought a diverse infusion of people to town, turning it into a true American melting pot, but also creating an outskirts many of the longtime residents were leery of, including nightclubs, honky tonks, illegal gambling dens, and bootleg saloons. The infusion of wealth also spruced up the downtown area and saw many new businesses spring up, but for the Doles, life continued as it always had, with Dorin having moved on from the cafe and supporting his family in farming adjacent businesses, first by running a local creamery, and then working at a grain elevator. This was all well and good because the oil dried up about the time the Great Depression began. At the grain elevator, Dorin, or Doley, as he was known to everyone, became a pillar of the community who was known for his honesty, integrity, and as a hard worker. Vina, less laid back than her husband, lived life full throttle. She talked fast, walked fast, and in Dole's recollection, she drove fast wherever she was going. She was constantly busy, but always looking for ways to get more done. Of his childhood, Dole recalls, We may have been poor, but that didn't mean we embraced poverty. Mom made sure we maintained our dignity, she taught her kids to respect one another, to respect ourselves, and to look out for each other. Cleanliness was next to godliness as far as Mother was concerned, and she was fastidious about each family member's personal appearance. She often said nobody's so poor they can't afford soap, and her personal motto was you never get a second chance to make a first impression. She made most of the family's clothes and kept a meticulously clean house. Dole continues You could eat off the floor in our house, and Mom wanted the family to look sharp as well. We may have owned only a few changes of clothing, but they were always washed and pressed, even if Mom had to stay at the ironing board long after everyone had gone to bed. Dad changed his work clothes every day too, a rarity in those days. Our beds had to be made before we left for school each morning. No clutter, not on the floor, the desk, nowhere. Vina was also a superb cook and could stretch a food budget farther than anyone her son ever knew. While strict, she was also generous and loving and always looking for ways to help others. When Dole was six years old, the stock market crashed and the Great Depression hit. To make matters worse, Russell, Kansas was right in the middle of what would become known as the Dust Bowl. Terrible dust storms would come up out of nowhere and cover everything. During this time the topsoil on most nearby farms literally turned to powder and blew away, taking with it the hopes and dreams of some of the state's most hard working farmers. And rain, whenever it did fall, was frequently not enough to even measure. Without rain, even the farms that managed to retain their topsoil had no crops, and without crops, the farms were worthless. The dust killed everything it covered, not just the crops, but trees, flowers, and other vegetation, and even people. Some died from pneumonia and some from despair and desperation. By the mid nineteen thirties, things were so bad that the Doles moved down to the concrete basement of their home and rented out the rest of the house to help make ends meet. They did this for several years. Everyone pitched in to help with family finances. Dole and his siblings delivered papers, mowed lawns when there was grass to cut, shoveled snow, pulled weeds, milked cows, washed cars, anything to earn a few extra nickels. When Dole turned thirteen, he got his first steady job working as a soda jerk at a local drugstore called Dawson's in the same part of town as the grain elevator his dad ran. Everyone in town came to Dawson's, so it was consistently busy. Dole worked most weeknights and almost every Saturday morning there through high school. For a whopping one dollar a day he dished up ice cream, whipped up milkshakes, and served chocolate malts and green rivers, a local favorite drink made with lime. He was a showman too. Sometimes when the kids came in I'd flip their ice cream in the air, landing it right in the cup or glass before adding the soda, cherry and other toppings. The Dawsons didn't mind my fooling around. To them, it added to the show, as long as I didn't drop any of their precious product. I'd take a kid's order and bark out one green river coming up. Turning to the customer, I'd drop my chin and raise my eyebrows and ask seriously, do you want the flip in it? Oh yeah, the kid would say. I'd toss a scoop of ice cream toward the ceiling, sending it in slow motion somersaults, watching it flip over and over, timing it just right, letting it fall as long as I dared before swooping it into the cup in front of the customer, seemingly all in one fluid motion. Dutch Dawson, the shop's owner, ran a mostly family affair. His oldest son was the store's pharmacist, and his two younger sons, Bubb and Chet, not much older than Dole, ran the store. Those two had a sharp wit and were known throughout Russell for their well meaning jabs they threw at customers. Customers who readily and good naturedly gave it right back to the boys. Dole quickly picked up this same pattern droll sense of humor and was soon dishing up friendly wisecracks along with ice cream. Every night after closing, Dole would run several blocks home. He later said that was the only way he didn't put on a ton of weight while working at the ice cream counter. In fact, he liked running so much that he would also get a run in in the morning before school when running was not something people did recreationally. This prepared him for high school athletics. He was a three letter varsity athlete playing football, basketball, and running track, specifically the four hundred forty and eight hundred eighty, for Russell High. For a brief time, he even held the school record for the fastest half mile. While he describes himself as not a naturally gifted athlete, Dole was competitive. He wanted to win and did everything he could, from practicing whenever he had even just a little free time, to building a homemade barbell set with his brother to lift weights, to give him the best opportunity to win. It must have worked, his senior year, Dole helped the school football team go undefeated. But basketball was his first love. At six feet two and one hundred and ninety-two pounds, a little shy of two meters and ninety kilos, Dole relished running up and down the court, feeding his teammates. He didn't score much himself, but he racked up the assists. His senior year he was the only one from his school selected for the conference all-star team, which gave him the chance to play other teams along the railroad line throughout Kansas. Nobody in Dole's family had been to college, but more and more he realized that the most respected and the most successful customers that came into Dawson's were all doctors. He also saw that they greatly contributed to the overall life of the community. So he came up with a plan. He would earn enough money to go to college, he would then go to medical school, and finally become one of those respected doctors so he could come back and help the community, and he wouldn't have to worry about which way the wind blew or how much rain fell. He wanted to help others, but he also wanted to have some financial security in his life. After graduation in June 1941, he was on his way to Lawrence and the University of Kansas. Now he just had to break the news to Bub and Chet, who were huge Kansas State fans. Before graduation, Fogg Allen, KU's legendary basketball coach, and the man many consider to be the father of modern basketball, walked into Dawson's with his son Mitt. Mitt worked in Russell and played on a local amateur basketball team and had gotten to know Dole while watching him play at Russell High. Mitt introduced the two and Fogg said he had it on good authority that Dole was a solid basketball player and let him know there would be some openings on the freshman team next season. A short time later a follow up letter arrived from Fogg. Great to meet ya, looking forward to seeing you in Lawrence this fall. The letter contained no scholarship offer, but was a bona fide invitation to try out from the coach. Despite what Bub and Chet thought about the school, it was an offer Dole could not pass up. But there was still the problem of not having enough money for tuition. He decided to get some advice from another friend, Harold, who was about to begin his senior year at KU and whose fiancee had been Dole's Spanish teacher at Russell High. This friend highly recommended KU. He was also a member of the university's Kappa Sigma fraternity and suggested that if Dole joined the Frat, he might be able to work in the house and earn enough money to keep himself in school. Harold spoke with his frat brothers who decided Dole sounded like just the kind of guy they were looking for to join the fraternity. And let me just take a minute to give a quick shout out to my Boise State ROTC buddy Nick Adams, the only Kappa Sig I personally know. Dole was also surprised with how supportive his parents were of him going off to school. He knew his education would be a burden on his family. It would divert the money he was giving them, but they told him not to worry and that it would be fine. Because of football tryouts, he didn't intend for basketball to be his only sport, Dole arrived in Lawrence in August before classes. By the time everyone showed up, the student body would balloon to four thousand people, nearly the equivalent of the entire population of Russell. Bob, you're not in Kansas anymore. Well you are, but you know what I mean. True to his word, Harold introduced Dole to the rest of the Kappa Sigs, and although several frats rushed him, his loyalties were to Harold, and he got what he considered a great job waiting tables in the frat house dining room that paid twelve dollars fifty cents a month, about two hundred and eighty dollars in today's money, plus all the food he could eat. He was able to save money on lodging by living in the Kappa Sigma house, and he also picked up a job delivering milk in Lawrence early Saturday and Sunday mornings. Dole made the freshman football team, he even got to travel with the varsity squad to Lincoln to see them get creamed by Nebraska. He settled into life at the frat house, he found a used phonograph machine and livened up the place with music, but wasn't able to become a full-fledged member until he got his grades up. While he had done well in high school, he found his college classes much harder despite all the time he spent studying. He was in the fraternity house on December 7, 1941, when the quiet, peaceful Sunday morning was shattered by a news flash on the radio.

SPEAKER_03 23:12

We interrupt this broadcast to bring you this important bulletin from the United Press. Flash, Washington. The White House announces Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.

SPEAKER_00 23:22

The boys were shocked. The next day they all listened to President Roosevelt's now famous address to Congress.

SPEAKER_02 23:33

Yesterday, December 7th, 1941, a date which will live in infamy.

SPEAKER_00 24:02

In the end, the President asked Congress for a declaration of war against Japan, and within 24 hours, the USA had officially entered World War II. On campus, everyone tried to carry on as normal, but it all seemed hollow. Dole made it on to the freshman basketball team, something that had once mattered greatly to him, but it no longer seemed important. He had several friends who had already enlisted in the military and knew of several others who were on their way. It seemed like everyone instinctively knew that their college days would soon be over. Dole hoped to be able to finish his full freshman year, but didn't know if that would be in the cards. At the end of the year, Dole went home for Christmas, and naturally most of the talk centered around the war and the likelihood that he and his younger brother would be called to service. Dole returned to school in January and took his final exams at the end of the semester. He ran track in the spring and prayed that the war would come to a speedy conclusion, hoping he wouldn't have to disrupt this new life he was creating for himself and quite enjoying it. When the school year ended, he returned to Russell and worked through the summer of 1942. He returned to KU for his sophomore year in the fall, thinking he would hear that he had been drafted any day now, as hundreds of Midwestern young men already had been. He played another season of football and was surprised to find himself still at school a full year after Pearl Harbor. But it was becoming harder to focus when friends kept going to a war he hadn't joined yet. Nearly every week there was a farewell party, and Dole never missed a single one. He did miss a lot of classes though. The academic dean called him in to talk about his plummeting grades. Recognizing all that was going on, he told Dole he just wasn't cutting it in school, and asked if he had thought about joining the army. It had been on his mind for months. His younger brother Kinney had been notified by the draft board right after he graduated in the spring of 42. So Dole considered his options. Basically, joining the military or waiting to be drafted. He thought, he hoped, that if he joined the Army's enlisted reserve corps, he would be allowed to finish his sophomore year, and as someone in a pre-med program, be allowed to join the medical corps. He figured this way he could continue a portion of his studies, wrap up his undergrad program after the war, and still make it into medical school without too much of a delay. He'd just have to get his grades back up when he returned to school, and without a war on, that should be a lot easier. On December 14, 1942, just before returning home for Christmas, he did just that. He was 19 years old. The Army did let him finish the academic year, and the following June, he left the University of Kansas to join the war effort. As he packed up at the end of the school year, Dole wondered if his college education was over, if he'd really come back, if he would get a chance to play basketball for Fog Allen, or become a doctor. He tried to be optimistic, but the scuttlebutt on campus was that the war wouldn't be over anytime soon. He thought back to World War One and how that had dragged on for nearly four years, with a lot of post-war occupation and cleanup time to boot. A lot could happen to a guy in four years.

SPEAKER_01 28:17

He was a famous trumpet man from all Chicago Way. He had a bogey style that no one else could play. He was the top man at his craft. But then his number came up, and he was gone with the draft. He's in the army now, a blowin' reveling. He's the boogie boogie-buke-ball accompany me. They made him blow a buke before his uncle sailed. It really brought him down because he couldn't jam the captain to understand. Because the next day the cap went out and draft to the band and now the company jumps when he plays reveling. He's the boogie boogie buke-ball accompany me. A two-deep, a two-d-a chooty-band, a two-de-bows and into the bar. He can't bow and over unless the basin guitar is playing with him. He makes the company jump when he plays rebelly. He's a boogie boogie bugle ball of company B. He was a Boogie Boogie Boogle Ball of Company B. And when he plays Boogie Boogie Boogle, he was busy as a blue B. And when he plays, he makes the company jump into the bar. He's a boogie boogie boogie of company B. Blows it into the bar. He can't blow a note to the big time. The company jumps when he plays revelation. He's a boogie boogie boogie, company. Wake some up the same way. Because in the buggy, breaks a place in the bully.