In this initial offering, I will share my experience participating in the seasonal exhumation missions that took place throughout Europe, of Unknown WW2 Soldiers.
When I was reading over the job announcement for the position of Mortuary Officer, a listed duty caught my eye- the collaboration between the U.S. Army Regional Mortuary (Europe & Africa) and the Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency (DPAA) in recovering unidentified solders. The remains would be exhumed and then sent via military aircraft to Offutt Air Force Base in Nebraska to undergo DNA testing and hopeful identification. How Intriguing! Once hired, I had the good fortune of assuming the duty of DPAA lead.
The season in which these activities took place was in the summertime. During a period of 3-4 months soldiers would report to an American Battle Monuments Commission (ABMC) cemetery, and receive, package and transport the remains back to our mortuary for safekeeping until the day of their departure arrived. Multiple missions would be scheduled, week after week, including anywhere from 3-4 flights back to the U.S. My role consisted of training the soldiers and managing the tracking and storage within our facility. During my fist season I went out on many missions, looking for guidance to shape the creation of new processes, as well as to gain a true understanding of what these missions looked like.
The journey to the ABMC cemetery was not a quick and easy one for those silently residing there. Temporary graves were made, and it was common for them to be moved again before finally coming to the cemetery. (If you have seen “Band of Brothers” or “The Pacific” you’ll notice the characters burying comrades near wherever they are fighting.) Families back then were given the option of having their loved ones sent back home for burial or remaining there in Europe for interment. About 40% chose to have them placed in the overseas graves in what are now pristine locations that tell the story of the nearby battles that brought them there.
My first mission took place at Henri-Chapelle American Cemetery & Memorial, located in Belgium. The 57-acre property holds 7,987 soldiers and displays the names of 450 that are missing. If they are later identified, a gold rosette is placed alongside the name to signal they are no longer among those unaccounted for. It was raining that day, as we stood outside for the Superintendent’s greeting. He shared a bit about the history of the cemetery, as well as some general rules (no wandering around on your phone for example). He would remain throughout the process, directing the heavy equipment operators. It was not until the casket was unearthed and brought up that we would be given access and the turnover. We waited for 1700 to come, as these missions occurred after the cemetery closed to avoid spectators. The disinterred were preselected and we learned about the battle that brought them there prior to the mission starting.
The soldiers had prepared the receiving area near the cemetery’s rear. Here the remains would be removed from their caskets and carefully placed inside a transfer case with a sealed Zieglar case inside. Once the transfer case was closed and seals placed, all would be covered with a draped U.S. Burial flag. This is how they would travel, beneath the stars and stripes they had earned.
As the rain pinged against my hard hat, we began. The backhoe’s large bucket began scraping along the surface, gradually going deeper into the soil. We stood by watching the careful movement, until finally we saw the top of a container. (Most of the caskets were housed within wooden shipping crates.) The machine gently peeled back the wood to reveal the metal casket below. As it became accessible, straps were placed around its lifted edge, and it was raised up from the ground. A soldier using a small hammer made a hole near the bottom, and water inside drained into the open gravesite. Once the Superintendent deemed it empty enough the casket was swung over onto a waiting trailer. It was covered in thick dirt, with rust and time evident. A nylon flag was placed on it for transport to the receiving area. We lined up alongside to render a salute, recognizing the significance of the moment. Once our arms were lowered, a soldier or two would walk behind the trailer as it departed.
This was not the disinterment process of the civilian sector. I was one of them, getting tired and dirty (often there were two exhumations a night), versus standing by and watching. Once the casket arrived at the receiving area it was washed and then opened. The remains inside were wrapped within a green army blanket, carefully pinned. (This process of pinning a green blanket is still used today by the DOD mortuaries, when performing a full body wrap.) Sometimes they would have a metal tag attached with a series of numbers assigned to that individual. The remains were carefully lifted and wrapped in a sheet before placing in the Ziegler case. While some soldiers were tasked with the sealing of the Ziegler and subsequent steps, others would take out the soiled casket interiors for disposal. Still others were positioned at the gravesite of the second disinterment, which began as soon as the earth was replaced at the first one. The team of six was carefully stationed in their various areas based upon assigned tasks, and all worked simultaneously. I worked within each station, getting muddy along with them. This would happen over the summer at other missions where I was a team member, At the season’s conclusion I would contribute the development of a Standard Operating Procedures (SOP) manual that the DPAA would develop. These activities were an honor to be a part of the fulfillment of a nation’s promise. Every disinterment was the unveiling of an untold story, and the opportunity to assist in its telling was invaluable.
Thank you for reading this first "Underneath the Flag" blog. More to be published soon!
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