From the archives: World War II hero’s tale uncovered

This story was originally published in Newsday on May 25, 2008

On a recent, rain-soaked afternoon at Long Island National Cemetery in Pinelawn, a war hero's grave site was graced by the gods of both perseverance and chance.

Louis DiLeo had just finished playing the bugle at two military funerals when he saw strangers hovering at the grave of a soldier distantly related to his wife.

Army 1st Lt. Bernard J. Ray, a Baldwin native and Medal of Honor recipient, had died in combat more than 60 years ago, during the last winter of World War II.

As it turned out, the strangers at the cemetery were looking for Ray's family. In a flurry of robust handshakes, the two men handed DiLeo one of Ray's old dog tags that had been buried in a German forest since 1944.

History buffs John Chiarella, of Dix Hills, and Charlie Jamison, of Baldwin, were at the cemetery with a reporter. They recounted their months-long quest to find Ray's family members and return the dog tag, unearthed in February by a German collector.

Then chance intervened, and DiLeo walked up.

"It was meant to be," said Jamison, who shook his head at the sheer coincidence. Surely the meeting was inspired by Ray, he said. "It's like he was watching."

DiLeo trembled, and his heart was pounding. The family had long known about Ray's wartime heroics, but until now DiLeo said they had little to remember him by. The 50-year-old Seaford man took out his cell phone and called his wife, Maria. She is the niece of Ray's cousin.

"Maria," he said, "I'm holding Bernie Ray's dog tags right now.

"It's in my hand. It's in my hand right now."

Tale of sacrifice

In November 1944, Lt. Bernard Ray's unit was pinned down in the Hurtgen Forest in Germany. It was a month before the Battle of the Bulge, and German resistance to Allies' eastward drive was intense.

Ray, a clean-cut former Boy Scout and Baldwin High School graduate, was a 23-year-old platoon leader with Company F, 8th Infantry. Under heavy fire, the unit eventually found itself stymied by a barrier of concertina wire.

Explosive caps loaded in his pocket, Ray grabbed several Bangalore torpedoes - extendible steel tubes that are filled with explosives - and wrapped the primer cord around his body. He crawled to the wire to blast a hole. As he was connecting the explosives, he was injured by mortar fire. With only a few moments left to complete the task, Ray finished wiring the explosives and fell on the plunger - destroying the barrier and killing himself.

For his bravery, Ray was honored posthumously with the highest accolades: In addition to the Medal of Honor, awarded to his parents in December 1945, he also received the Bronze Star and Purple Heart. A merchant marine ship and an Army barrack in Germany were also named after him.

Ray almost didn't make it into the military, his family said. The Army rejected him when he first tried to enlist because of problems with his sight, said his cousin Grace Herlihy, 79, of Centereach. "But he was determined to get in and he got in somehow," Herlihy said. "He was a wonderful person. We all loved him," she said. "He was a lot of fun to be around."

The youngest of three children, Ray was a lasting source of pride for his family, and his death was a huge blow to his parents and grandparents.

"I can remember my grandmother sitting in the rocking chair and crying: 'Why did they take him?'" Herlihy said.

The Ray family has left the Baldwin area over the years. Ray's sister, Grace Gustavson, his last living sibling, now lives in Delray Beach, Fla. She was thrilled upon hearing of the dog tag's recovery. "I felt good," said Gustavson, 91. "We had nothing from him."

Ray's niece and goddaughter Beryl Higgins, 64, inherited his Medal of Honor, proudly displayed in her Mendham, N.J., home. "We just can't believe this," Higgins said of the dog tag's recovery. "It's like a piece of Bernard is coming home."

Lost but found

In February, a collector named Stefan Sagorski was exploring the battlefield in the Hurtgen Forest near Schevenhutte, Germany, with a metal detector. He found the tag buried under 3 feet of earth with a crucifix and coat button, Chiarella said.

"This was probably what's left of a battlefield burial," said Chiarella, 55, a property manager. Ray's remains were disinterred after the battle and taken to a cemetery in Germany, then ultimately buried in 1947 at the national cemetery in Pinelawn.

Sagorski typed Ray's name into an Internet search engine and found a Web page with Chiarella's e-mail address listed next to a photo he had taken of the cemetery. Chiarella helps maintain online cemetery records on a volunteer basis.

"Stefan speaks no English, and I don't speak German," Chiarella said. "I opened up two online translators, but the translation was terrible."

In an e-mail last week, Sagorski said he and his fellow hobbyists exploring the Hurtgen Forest frequently find old dog tags. He was pleased that Ray's family would end up with his dog tag.

"I am very satisfied and happy that this dogtag will find (its) way to the correct owners - and not to 'Ebay'," Sagorski wrote. "For me, it is something special to find a tag of such a high(ly) decorated soldier!"

The dog tag's authenticity has not been confirmed, but a Department of Defense spokesman reviewed a photograph of it e-mailed to him last week.

"We see nothing that would indicate that it is not authentic," said Larry Greer, director of public affairs for the department's POW/Missing Personnel Office. "The service number on the dog tag is his, and it's correct. We verified that with a restricted database to which few have access." Greer later added that a stainless steel dog tag such as Ray's could still be in good condition, even after six decades buried in European dirt.

Ultimately, Sagorski spent his own money to mail the tag to Chiarella, who then posted a message on a cemetery records Web site asking for help in locating Ray's surviving family. That led him to Jamison, a volunteer with Baldwin's American Legion.

But neither man had any luck finding relatives despite posting messages on Internet military sites and Craigslist. They had never met in person until that recent day at the Pinelawn cemetery, where more than 300,000 people are buried, when they ran into Louis DiLeo, there in his capacity as chief bugler for the New York Military Forces Honor Guard.

Until then, Chiarella and Jamison had made plans with the Baldwin American Legion to present the dog tag to the organization at its Memorial Day ceremony tomorrow in Silver Lake Park. Now that ceremony will feature a presentation of the tag to Ray's family, said Jamison, 44, a heavy-equipment operator.

And Louis DiLeo will play "Taps."

Staff writers Michael Amon and Jennifer Barrios contributed to this story.