My dad was a war hero who died in Vietnam. JBLM should keep its promise to my mom | Opinion
Last Veterans Day, my 83-year-old mother, Mary Dowling, made the trek to the Fort Lewis Post Cemetery, as she has done several times a year for 57 years, to place flowers on my father’s grave. But this time she knew instinctively something was wrong. As she looked over to the adjoining plot that the Army promised would be hers, she was shocked to see a stranger buried in the freshly turned grave.
She stood there alone in stunned silence for a long time, distraught, not knowing what to do. It’s a heartbreaking image that is difficult to shake.
The Army’s reassignment of my mom’s plot last October is just plain wrong. For almost six decades, she has been in regular contact with Joint Base Lewis-McChord officials, filling out forms and sending them back to confirm her continued eligibility for her reserved plot. When they stopped sending forms a few years ago, she made a point of calling the base directly, always receiving assurances that the cemetery plot was hers. These verbal assurances were backed up by strong public evidence: in a cemetery that is basically full (and has been for years), her plot has remained open for 57 years, lending powerful credence to her claim.
Moreover, my mom’s name was always prominently emblazoned on the cemetery map that was posted at the entrance for all to see, at least until the entire map was mysteriously removed late last year.
In addition, my mom’s name was featured on the Fort Lewis Post Cemetery website until mid-February, when it was deleted — on the same day that The News Tribune’s Craig Sailor broke the story, raising eyebrows, if not suspicions.
The Army’s improvised offer of a smaller plot with no headstone is insufficient and doesn’t correct the problem. Since my mother’s terrible discovery on Veterans Day, she has repeatedly said that she just wants back the plot promised to her for all these years.
So far, the Army’s response has been short on transparency, long on excuses, and ever-evolving. Army officials have apologized and acknowledged my mom had a reservation at some point, but failed to explain how they could lose six decades’ worth of records. They admitted her name was depicted on official maps, but rejected the idea that it constituted evidence of a reservation.
After U.S. Rep. Marilyn Strickland launched a congressional inquiry into the matter and other members of the Washington delegation joined in (including U.S. Senator Patty Murray), Army officials seemed to change their apologetic tone. Instead of admitting any error, they decided to go on offense, suggesting that my mom failed to provide any evidence of a valid burial reservation. They deemed her plot open and available for assignment to an eligible veteran.
The Army has claimed all burials are final, including the person who now erroneously occupies my mom’s plot. But there have been many examples of disinterments at national cemeteries over the decades, and there are policies in place outlining the circumstances under which disinterment can occur. Given the evidence, requests for disinterment do not appear to be a rare occurrence.
Recently, my mom managed to find her original records from the Fort Lewis Mortuary office from January 1966 in a box within a smaller box in a cedar chest that contains mementos of my father’s life. The carbon copy letter on onion skin paper from the Fort Lewis Mortuary clerk provides irrefutable proof of her valid reservation for her own burial plot and headstone next to my dad — the promise the Army made to my mom 57 years ago.
I believe the Army now has all the evidence needed to return her plot, and, despite what it suggests, the authority under Army regulations to disinter the person mistakenly buried there.
So, the question remains — why is the Army stonewalling and refusing to give back her grave?
We need to know how Army officials could inexplicably lose or purge — and ultimately disregard — all evidence of her reservation in order to surreptitiously reassign it. Perhaps most importantly, how did the Army select one particular veteran — out of all of the many eligible veterans — for burial in my mom’s reserved plot?
By reneging on their promise to my mom and flouting their own rules, the Army trivializes the life of a Gold Star war widow — and raises the specter that the same rules others abide by don’t apply to those in charge. A broken promise of this magnitude is a negative precedent for all military personnel and their families who rely on these promises in exchange for their service and sacrifice, including putting their lives on the line.
The Army pledges its commitment to seven lofty values: Loyalty, Duty, Respect, Selfless Service, Honor, Integrity and Personal Courage. My father, CWO Robert M. Dowling, exemplified every single one of these values in spades until the very end of his heroic life. In exchange for his ultimate sacrifice, the Army promised my mom she would be buried by his side with her own headstone at Fort Lewis Post Cemetery — a promise that my mom has held dear ever since.
It is time for the Army to live up to those seven core values and correct this travesty.
It’s the honorable — and only — thing to do.
Laura Dowling is the daughter of Mary Dowling and CWO Robert M. Dowling. She grew up in Chehalis and is a graduate of Centralia College and the University of Washington. After a career in public policy and strategic communications, she became the Chief Floral Designer at the White House. She’s now an author and speaker.