It was a bright, sunny day September 3, 1918. In the small town of Chatham, Louisiana, Horace “Todd” and Lillian Moore weren’t too much worried about The Great War being fought in Europe, or who was playing in the U.S. Open men’s tennis tournament, or even who was playing ball. Their son Harvel Lee Moore was born that day. Oh, he was the second of five children the Moores would have, being about two years behind his older sister at the time, Velma Viola Moore. Surely, she was excited to have her baby brother. A couple years would roll by, and the Moores welcomed another son to the fold. Clifford was born in 1920. Then Thelma in ’26 and the baby boy Alion, whom everyone referred to as “Fritz” was brought into the world in 1929.
The Moore family was seven deep, and they were all there to help on the farm. Lillian and Todd were just average folks in Chatham. Well-respected, hard-working farming family. Todd was the man of the farm, and also did some blacksmithing for himself and his neighbors as needed. The boys would help out all they could. They also attended school all they could.
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| Harvel Lee Moore and Parents |
Harvel finished school as a Chatham High School Eagle. He loved to play basketball, and wanted to be a coach when he grew up. So in 1938, when he graduated from Chatham High, he enrolled at Northeast Center of Louisiana State University, formerly known as Ouachita Parish Junior College. As it was a long trek from home, and he likely was helping his father around the farm, Harvel didn’t make it past his first semester at the Monroe college that would become the University of Louisiana Monroe.
However, in the fall of 1939, he tried his hand at the other university in north Louisiana that was a little closer to home…the Louisiana Polytechnic Institute. The school had been around since the 1880s, and was growing little by little. But Harvel attended during a busy time at LPI as there was a spurt of infrastructure growth. Several buildings were added to the campus. However, Harvel didn’t make it past the fall of 1939 at what became Louisiana Tech University. He moved on with his life.
By now, Harvel was a very handsome young man. He had wavy, dark brown hair, a pair of grey eyes, and a face that made the ladies swoon. Along with a deep voice, he had a smile that would make a dentist proud. Straight, white teeth shine in the pictures of Harvel from his days in his early 20s. He whistled as he worked on the farm, and walked around the yard…something his mother remembered for decades. But in July of 1940, Harvel Lee Moore made a decision that would change things for his family. Nobody really knows why, but the handsome young man from Chatham decided to join the United State Marine Corps. On July 17, 1940, after traveling to New Orleans, Harvel Lee Moore enlisted in the Marines.
Private Moore headed out that same day via train with $6.10 from the Marines for food and transfers on his way to San Diego where he would begin his life as a United States Marine. At just over six feet, he was a little tall for his time. But having leadership in his blood, and a desire to be a coach in his heart, Harvel was on the road to coaching, just in a different field. Though the global war had begun a year earlier in 1939, the United States had not officially jumped in. There was not an urgent need for soldiers and Marines. But the US was rallying troops in case they were needed. Moore made stops in Shreveport; Big Spring, Texas; El Paso; Phoenix; as well as Los Angeles. And the small-town boy from Chatham arrived in a different world in San Diego on July 20, 1940.
Harvel Lee Moore was now 21 years old in a faraway city on the west coast of the United States. He had reported for duty to the Commanding General just as his orders read. Surely, he was homesick. Surely, he missed his family. Undoubtedly, they missed him. As the oldest son of the house, he was surely missed on the farm. However, Harvel trained hard with the Marines and ranked up quickly. Remember, Harvel was a coach at heart, so he knew how to work hard and how to lead. Soon after arriving, he wrote down that he had taken part in the 180-mile hike the Marines take in California.
Sometime after boot camp, Harvel returned home to Chatham. There is no question he had some stories to tell. Brothers and sisters alike were anxious to hear of their brother’s travels. He had made stops along the way in places they had only heard about. Their brother was living the dream of a small-town kid traveling the country. While Harvel was home on leave, Todd commissioned a photographer to get pictures of all the children who were now nearly grown, and he and his wife. Magnificent full-color photos of the time were not cheap. Those photos are still cherished by the descendants of Todd and Lillian to this day. Soon, though, Harvel had to make his way back to base.
In December of 1941, the United States of America was thrust into World War II. The Japanese bombed a small US base called Pearl Harbor. Thousands were killed or injured, the American defenses were immensely weakened by the Japanese as ships, planes, hangars, and airstrips were pummeled. And now the Japanese had awakened a sleeping giant.
The Americans leapt in with full force. Troops were sent to fight in Europe, and troops were sent to fight in the Pacific Theater. Strategic moves were made to take areas most needed for the Americans to refuel planes and ships when they needed in order to take territories vital to the cause. Harvel Moore was assigned to Echo Company, 2nd Battalion, 8th Marines (E-2/8), 2nd Marine Division. And the Pacific Theater is where he was needed.
Moore and his fellow Marines set out on a journey that would leave them sailing in the Pacific Ocean for three weeks. When they arrived in the Pacific, the boys battled for months at Guadalcanal, offering reinforcements for troops on the front line as needed. Once Guadalcanal wrapped up, they dropped back to New Zealand for rest and reorganization. The boys would wait there for nine months on their next orders.
In August of 1943, Sergeant Moore became ill. He spent a week in the hospital. During his stay, he fell in love with a young nurse. Her name escapes the family today, but he took a picture with her sometime before he left on his next mission. Harvel came down with malaria in October of 1943, and he had to go back to the hospital for another week. But in November the boys shipped out to the tiny island of Betio on the Tarawa Atoll in the Gilbert Islands. A small beach island with nothing really but an airstrip, it was useless on its own. However, it was a vital location for the US planes to be repaired and gassed up in order to reach the mainland.
By now, Sergeant Moore had become 2nd Lieutenant Harvel Lee Moore. Not all of his money was needed in the field. In fact, his sister Thelma sent him a letter one day saying the family couldn’t afford to purchase her graduation ring. Having worn his while serving in the Marines, Harvel sent his sister the $25 she needed to purchase her ring. A ring she never took off her hand for the majority of her adult life until she handed it down to her daughter Sherri Ann.
On November 20, 1943, the United States Marines stormed the beaches of Betio. Red-1, Red-2, and Red-3 were the targets. The ships were stuck further out than expected because the tide had gone out, so the Marines and their amtraks had to fight through the coral reefs to get ashore. The tractors with their steel wheels churned in the water, men being mowed down from them by the intense Japanese machine gun and rifle fire. Some of the Marines waded in waist deep water trying to get ashore. Many lost their lives, and never got a shot off. Others, like 2nd Lt Harvel Moore, made it to the beach.
There were some 4,500 Japanese fighters and “volunteers” on Betio that day. From impenetrable steel pillboxes they fired their machine guns at the Americans all day long. The American bombs did little damage to them. Mortars had no impact. The only way to do damage was by shooting the enemy or throwing a well-placed grenade through an opening. And presumably, the Americans did that. It’s been said that Japanese Admiral Keiji Shibasaki, commander of the highly-fortified garrison proclaimed “it would take one million men one hundred years to take this island (Betio).” The American Marines gave it all they had. On the second day, platoon leader 2nd Lieutenant Moore noticed one of his men in a tight spot on the battlefield. The man had been injured the day before, and had been without medical help for nearly 24 hours. As the Japanese were laying down gunfire, Moore scampered some fifty yards to the aid of his fellow Marine, and got him to safety. That’s the kind of guy he was. He wanted to be a coach, and a coach will do just about anything for his men. And the Marines kept fighting. And they fought for 76 hours…until the last of the Japanese surrendered. At the end of the day, there were 17 Japanese fighters…16 soldiers and one officer. The admiral who made the comments had been killed, as well. And the United States Marine Corps had lost nearly 1,100 of their own. Another 2,200 were wounded. But they had secured the island. On November 24, the Marines made their way back to New Zealand to prepare for what was next. Of the 1,100 who were left behind, one was from Chatham, Louisiana. And his name was Harvel Lee Moore.
There was no fanfare for Harvel. He was killed in battle. His death coming before the 76th hour of the war. Harvel died on that fateful third day on the tiny island in the Pacific Ocean. His body left behind for a crew to find, document his death, and bury him in hopes that they would one day come back for him because you never leave a Marine behind. But a war was tearing the world apart. Tyrants wanted to make the world theirs. Meanwhile, young men from all corners of the globe were coming together to fight the evil leaders of Germany, Japan and Italy. Women were serving as nurses, and bomb builders, and ignition switch makers in the US and her territories. So there was little time to bring those boys lost in the war back home right then. Harvel would receive a stack of medals after he died. The Silver Star for saving his fellow Marine, the Purple Heart, American Campaign Medal, World War II Victory Medal, Combat Action Ribbon, and others. But his parents and siblings would never see him again.
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As the Japanese surrendered on September 2, 1945 (the day before Harvel Moore would have turned 27), World War II ended. That was the last win the Allies needed. Americans celebrated in the streets. The boys were coming home to be with their wives, and families and children. Well, most of them. Harvel’s mother, Lillian, received a telegram on December 22, 1943. It told her that her son had been killed in action, and the Marines could not bring him home right now. Lillian was devastated. Her sweet son had died defending his country from evil, but this mother was left without her son. As the years rolled by, Lillian never lost hope that her son would come home. She sent letters to the Marines asking if there was news. To which they replied, his remains were unrecoverable. She told her children and grandchildren to always stay alert at the movies. Harvel could be on a newsreel. Watch closely in the streets and along the driveway. Harvel may show up. One day many years after Harvel’s death, his niece Dianne was whistling around her grandparents’ house. Todd called the young girl to the barn, and asked her if she liked secrets. Of course little girls love secrets, so she shared that feeling with her grandfather. Todd told Dianne not to whistle around her grandmother. It made her sad as she thought about Uncle Harvel whistling around the farm. Lillian kept a photo of Harvel in the living room that the grandkids always were told to look at. If they ever did wrong in the house, Uncle Harvel would know. And they didn’t want to disappoint him. And such was life on the farm of Todd and Lillian Moore after they lost their son.
At the Chatham Cemetery, you just had to be a citizen of the town to get a plot. But a plot had 10 spots for caskets. Todd Moore wanted a family plot, so he asked for one. And he received one. Twenty years after Harvel was killed in battle, his mother Lillian passed away four days before her 66th birthday. With a broken heart, she went on to be with her son. Ten years later at the age 83, Todd would be buried next to his wife. Harvel’s brothers and sisters would live on for some time to come keeping his memory alive, hoping that he would make it back. His scrapbooks, the family portraits, his photos as a Marine, his pictures…all of it had been kept safely and securely put up in case he ever made it home.
But time marches on, and in 1988 Thelma Moore Bolton would be the first of Harvel’s siblings to pass without seeing him have an official burial with his family. Her graduation ring was left to one of her daughters to keep Harvel’s memory alive. Thelma is buried in Sarepta, Louisiana. Thelma and her husband Lloyd had four children: Dianne, Sherri Ann, Gary, and Ron. Ron left us after suffering from complications related to fighting in Vietnam.
It would be another 10 years before another Moore sibling was lost. In 1998, Technician Fifth Grade Clifford Moore passed from this world at 78 years old. Often referred to as a Corporal, Cliff joined the Army in his younger days and also served during World War III.
In 2000, Harvel’s older sister Velma passed away. Velma and her husband Seth had 3 girls: Billie Sue, and twins Patricia and Barbara. The girls all live in Ouachita Parish in north Louisiana.
The hopes of his siblings seeing him buried with his parents were all lost when Fritz passed away in 2015, the last child born to Todd and Lillian, and the last one to leave. At 86, he had lived quite the long life. Fritz had held on to several of Harvel’s artifacts that have now been passed down to his nieces. Sherri Ann holds most of the items related to Harvel. And while the story may seem to stop there, it doesn’t.
In 2017, the remains of a Marine were identified as part of the Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency’s efforts to identify all soldiers who were lost during war, but found later. Through dental records, medical records, and mitochondrial DNA from his youngest sibling Fritz, 2nd Lieutenant Harvel Lee Moore was identified. He had been wrapped in his Marine-issue poncho that fateful day on the beach, and buried with his fellow Marines on the island of Betio. Some seventy-plus years later, he was located still wrapped in his poncho, undisturbed. Also found with him were about 95 cents, his lieutenant rank pins, one of his shoes, and a Maori hei tiki pendant. His remains were brought back to America for further research. His personal belongings have been returned to the family. Now, 2nd Lieutenant Harvel Moore has returned to his hometown of Chatham, Louisiana. On May 26, 2018, he was buried there next to his parents near the headstone that was placed there in his honor about 30 years ago. “Buried on Tarawa Island” is etched in the top edge of the granite that is beneath the simple bronze marker that reads his name, rank, World War II, when he lived and Purple Heart along with “Silver Star” on the bottom edge of the granite.
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A small-town boy left to serve his country and gave his life in so doing. Though he never got to coach a basketball game, he coached the men in his platoon to what some say was a turning point in the Pacific Theater for the Allies. Now, over 75 years later, he was welcomed home to be with his parents in his small hometown of Chatham, Louisiana.
