June, 2018
Cranston, RI
Tony typed in the name of Micheline Dumon, Comet Line, on Google, and up came a newspaper article dated December 17, 2017 announcing her death at age ninety six.
Micheline Dumon-Ugeux, a major figure in the Belgian underground resistance during World War II who helped hundreds of Allied troops evade capture by Nazi forces as they sneaked across mountaintops and international borders, died November 16th at her home in Saint-Siffret, France.
Known by her code name of Lily, she spent three years, often at great risk, as a leader of a secret organization known as the Comet Line. The clandestine escape network rescued at least seven hundred fifty Allied airmen whose planes had been shot down over Europe, and enabled the men to escape across Belgium, France, and Spain. Mrs. Dumon-Ugeux helped at least two hundred fifty of them, including many Americans, reach freedom.
The British government awarded Mrs. Dumon-Ugeux the George Medal, which is presented to people who demonstrated ‘acts of great bravery’ in noncombat roles during the war. In a British document, once marked Top Secret, it said, “Her name became a legend amongst the countless airmen who had been shepherded across Brussels by the famous Lily. Mlle. Dumon pursued those ideals of patriotism and duty with unflinching determination, fearing nothing and ready to sacrifice all with the result that through her gallantry and devotion, countless airmen were able to escape from the enemy.
Micheline Dumon-Ugeux is buried in a grave beside her husband Pierre in Saint-Siffret, France.
Tears flowed from Tony’s eyes down his cheeks as he read and reread the article. His wife Marge walked into his office and was overcome with concern at the sight of her husband sobbing.
“Oh, my God, are you okay? What’s wrong?” she asked frantically.
“Nothing is wrong, yet everything is wrong. This woman, Lily, do you know who she was? She was a legend in the Belgian resistance in World War II. She helped over two hundred fifty people escape out of Belgium, and she secured the highest war medal from the British government. This is the woman my father was in love with. She could have been my mother. Here’s a picture of her with her husband while they were still working for MI9 just before the war ended.”
Marge looked at the image on Tony’s computer and mentioned how petite she was.
“Five feet tall, that’s all,” he answered, “but she was smart enough to outwit the Nazis for years. She even came to the U.S. once after the war with some other Comet Line members to reunite with American airmen who were rescued. It was likely after 1953, the year my dad died, so he probably never got to see her again. My father was in love with a heroine, and my father was a hero, and I never even had the chance to know him. Marge, I don’t know how to handle all of this.”
“Well, if you were your father, how would he want you to react? How would he react to being thought of as a hero? From what Lillian says, he never made a big deal of it, did he?”
“Up until a couple of days ago, I couldn’t tell you five things about him I could talk about to anybody who asked. And now, I find out that he was a person any son would idolize and want to brag to the world about. All these years I never knew. And everything I read about this Lily woman, she was unbelievable, and she just died six months ago. Oh, how I wish I could have met her.”
“Well, now that you’ve ended your practice, maybe the trip to Europe we’ve always talked about will happen sooner than I expected,” Marge answered.
“I’d like to talk to the girls about this, and Lillian and Bill too.”
“How about a nice dinner here with all of them sometime in the next week or so? I can call the kids and set it up. Your sister’s schedule is pretty wide open. She doesn’t go anywhere anyway. What about Bill and his wife?” Marge asked.
“I think everybody should be aware of this, even Bill’s kids. My father was as much their grandfather as he was to our kids. Dave will come, but I think Jessica is still teaching in London until November. Can you check with all of them and see if we can find a mutual date that’s good for everybody?”
“I’ll be on it later today and tomorrow. You’ve still got a lot of stuff to do closing the practice. I can set it all up. Maybe we’ll be quite a crew interested in going to France later this summer?”
* * *
Three days later, Tony called the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs to see what records they might have on Sergeant Gerard Papineau from World War II. The woman answering the phone indicated to Tony that all such requests needed to be done in person at their Westminster Street address in Providence. Tony drove there on a Wednesday morning in early June. Marge was still working on coordinating a dinner for the whole family to go over the recent events about Tony’s father.
“Good morning, sir. How can I help you?” the friendly sergeant asked as Tony entered the records section.
“My father, Gerard Papineau, was a gunner on a B-17 bomber in World War II, 1943 and 1944. I would like to know what records you have on him,” he asked.
“Wow, that’s a long time ago, Mr. Papineau. I’m not sure those records are in my database. Those records would be locked in files on the lower level. Let me check my computer first.”
“He was Sgt. Gerard Papineau, and he was in Squadron 107, USAAF, out of London during the war.”
“No, I don’t see any Gerard Papineau here. Can I ask you why you need to see these records now, sir, after so long?”
“I’ve just uncovered information that my dad was a World War II hero and I want to get his grave moved to Arlington National Cemetery where he belongs, alongside other heroes.”
“That’s a tall order, sir. There are strict requirements for that to happen. I’ve never received a request for someone from so far back.”
“How about a guy whose plane went down in Belgium in 1943, and who escaped to Spain a couple of months later? Or a guy with the Distinguished Service Cross from the USAAF, and the Distinguished Flying Medal from the RAF?” Tony asked.
“I apologize, sir. I would be honored to find his records for you,” the sergeant replied as he rose and saluted Tony. “This may take me some time, sir, but your father deserves my time completely. If you like, you may join me in the file room below, sir. Hopefully, we can find these records quickly.”
Tony rose from his chair and followed the soldier down the hallway and down to the basement level of the building. The sergeant unlocked a door leading to a massive file room with records of all Rhode Islanders who had served in any branch of the military.
“Did you say your father was in the USAAF during the war?”
“Yes, why? I don’t even know what that is.”
“It stands for the United States Army Air Force. The Air Force branch of the military wasn’t formed until after World War II. So, pilots or airmen were in the USAAF at that time. We have a special section for those records.”
The sergeant walked to a series of file drawers and pulled open the drawer labeled ‘USAAF O-P’. He thumbed through the file and pulled out a stiff letter sized record for ‘Papineau, Sgt. Gerard.’
“Well, sir, according to his file, there is no record of any medals or commendations, and no record of his death. When did you say he died?”
“1953, of cancer. I’ll bet he never reported the medals to the VA, nor did he even tell my mother about his combat experience, or that he even was in the military.”
“That’s not uncommon, sir. A lot of the guys back then just wanted to forget about the war. If he only met your mother after he got back, she had no way of knowing he was ever there. When he died, your mother would never think to call the VA for military honors at his funeral or to see if he deserved special burial consideration. It sounds like your father never told the medal issuers where to send the announcement about the medals. You’re sure they’re his medals?”
“I also found the certificates that came with the medals, made out to my father in early 1944. It must have been horrible for him over there, for him to not even acknowledge the medals,” Tony stated with tears swelling in his eyes.
“Sergeant, my dad belongs with other fallen heroes in Arlington, and I’d like for that to happen. How do I go about this?”
“First of all, sir, I’ll need to get a copy of the award certificates and to see the actual medals too. There should be a certificate number shown that I can trace back to Washington, D.C., where there is a complete listing of all certificates. The date on the certificate should make this pretty easy to verify. Once that happens, because he has a Distinguished Service Cross, he is automatically eligible for burial in the national cemetery in Arlington. That would occur with full military honors, sir, and your mother can also be buried there with him, if you like?”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. All these years he could have been buried with his buddies.”
“Did you also say that he was wounded?”
“He was shot in the arm before his plane went down in August, 1943. He parachuted into Belgium and the resistance helped him escape into Spain after his wound had healed. Why do you ask?”
“The Purple Heart, sir. He should have received that medal after the war. Once you get me the records you have, I can get the ball rolling on this.”
Tony was now beaming. This had to be done. He would talk to the entire family as soon as Marge could arrange for the dinner to be booked.
My dad was a hero. The whole world should know.
Before he left the VA office, he asked for the address of the Am Vets in Cumberland. They should know they had a hero in town years ago.