Total Pageviews

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Plain Dealer's Coverage of Corcoran story - 04 SEP 01

Another century, another fight, still a mistake to right

by

Janet H. Cho

Army veteran John J.C. Sullivan cannot pass a soldier's grave without pausing to bow his head and make the sign of the cross. He stoops over the headstone and brushes away the dirt to see whether the man died in combat or survived to see his family.

Patriotism and Irish-American pride run thickly in Sullivan's blood. Men in his family have served America in every conflict since the Civil War, and he still bristles when the public disrespects veterans. "I was at Gettysburg National Cemetery last year, and a girl was coming toward me talking on her cell phone!" he said. "I thought, 'Don't you have any respect for the ground that you're on?' It was just unbelievable to me."

A few months ago, Sullivan discovered that Michael Corcoran, an Irish-American recipient of the Medal of Honor, was buried at Calvary Cemetery beneath a plain granite headstone. There was nothing on the stone to show that Corcoran was a veteran or that he was awarded the nation's highest military award for heroism in combat, fighting Indians in 1869. Sullivan vowed to correct that oversight. He alerted Raymond J. Albert, a veteran of World War II and Korea, and a member of the national Medal of Honor Historical Society. Albert, of Amanda, Ohio, ordered Corcoran a commemorative white marble marker from the Department of Veterans Affairs.

If the marker arrives in time, Sullivan wants to place it at Corcoran's grave on Veterans Day, Nov. 11, with full military fanfare: a rifle salute, a color guard, bagpipes, a bugler playing taps and a chaplain. And the people he most wants to invite are Corcoran's descendants, who may or may not still live in the area. "What would make everything complete is if we could have family members of Michael Corcoran at the honor ceremony," said Sullivan, commander of Brecksville Post 196 of the American Legion. "Maybe his family doesn't even know about this honor."

Sullivan spent two years in the Army after high school. Now 58, he is a manager for an insurance adjusting firm and a Northfield councilman. Sullivan and Brian Panek, of Brecksville, first vice commander of Post 196 who served as a medic in Vietnam, believe that letting Corcoran's grave remain without a Medal of Honor marker dishonors his memory. “He's been unrecognized as a veteran, and not only as a veteran, but as a distinguished veteran," said Panek, looking down at Corcoran's gravestone. "It gets me choked up inside to even think about it."

"It's not right," Sullivan agreed. "There's nothing there that says this man served in a war. And a Medal of Honor veteran, that's the best veteran."

Sullivan was browsing the Internet for Cleveland Irish history when he stumbled upon Corcoran's name in the online Encyclopedia of Cleveland History. The entry said Corcoran, a corporal in the 8th U.S. Cavalry, was honored for engaging a band of Indians in 1869 between the Agua Fria and Rio Verde rivers in Arizona, just north of what is now Phoenix. Sullivan called Thomas J. Kelley, director of business development at Calvary Cemetery, to ask if his headstone included the Medal of Honor marker. The answer was no. The Veterans Administration began placing commemorative Medal of Honor markers on veterans' graves in 1976. "We never even realized he was a Medal of Honor veteran," Kelley said.

With the MOH marker ordered, Sullivan is now trying to find Corcoran's family. He has spent months combing through obituaries, looking up marriage licenses and calling Irish-sounding surnames in the phone book. Little is known about Corcoran beyond the Medal of Honor distinction. Army records say he was born in Philadelphia in 1847, but his gravestone says he was born in 1848. Edward F. Murphy of Mesa, Ariz., president of the Medal of Honor Historical Society, speculates "he probably lied about his age to enlist. It was pretty common back then to be underage and in the military."

Many early Medal of Honor recipients were 13, 14 and 15 years old, Murphy added. The youngest was a 12-year-old drummer boy from the Civil War. Corcoran enlisted in the Army in Wheeling, W.Va., and was assigned to the 8th U.S. Cavalry, operating out of Camp Whipple in the Arizona Territory to protect white settlers on the western frontier from the Apaches. He may have been among a group of 24 men who fought with a band of Indians on Aug. 25, 1869, killing six.

Murphy thinks Corcoran's feats may not have been as heroic as the medal suggests. "Unfortunately, he was one of those guys who got the Medal of Honor when they were handing them out with much less scrutiny than they do today," he said. "During the Civil War, it was the only decoration the military had, so it was awarded under loose conditions."

Cavalry units went on patrol for months at a time, Murphy added, and would often boast of their heroic feats after they returned, turning in lists of men who should receive the award. "A couple of months later, all the medals would show up in the mail," he said.

Albert disagrees with that characterization. "Those people put their lives on the line every day," he said. "They worked under severe conditions and made about $15 a month. Who's to say how much they deserved the medal? I think they did. This is the highest award that can be given to a man in the service for an act of bravery and heroism above and beyond the call of duty," Albert said. The medal earned Corcoran an extra $2 a month.

After leaving the Army, Corcoran lived in Johnstown, Pa., before settling in Cleveland. He worked for a railroad, married Johanna Culliton and reared four children - Robert, Albert, Mary and Rose. Sullivan believes Corcoran's descendants may still live in the area, because the ones whose obituaries he could find are all buried locally. Even if Corcoran's family never turns up, Sullivan said he won't regret getting him the marker. "If we don't find them, the veterans are going to do the honor ceremony without family," he said. "We want to give him the recognition that he should've gotten a long time ago.

"Those with information on Michael Corcoran's descendants can reach Sullivan at 330-495-3020.
Contact Janet H. Cho at:
jcho@plaind.com, 216-999-4327


BOX:
THE MEDAL OF HONOR
The Medal of Honor, America's highest award for military valor, was established by an act of Congress in December 1861 to boost morale during the Civil War.
the first medals were designated for the Navy; the following year for the Army. The Air Corps (later the Air Force) used the Army medal until a separate design was created in 1963.
Since its inception, 3,456 medals have been awarded to 3,437 recipients. Nineteen men received two Medals of Honor. Only one woman, Mary Walker, a doctor during the Civil War, has ever received the medal.
President Harry S. Truman once said, "I'd rather have this medal than be president." Gen. George S. Patton told one recipient, "I'd give my immortal soul for that medal."
During the Civil War, President Abraham Lincoln was once so desperate for soldiers just before the battle of Gettysburg that he offered the medal to every man who re-enlisted in the 27th Maine Volunteer Infantry Regiment.
Fewer than 150 recipients are alive today. More than half of the medals awarded since World War I have been awarded posthumously.
Because it is presented by the president of the United States in the name of Congress, the medal is sometimes called the "Congressional Medal of Honor."
Sources: Edward F. Murphy and Raymond J. Albert, Medal of Honor Historical Society; "Above and Beyond," Boston Publishing Co.

No comments:

Post a Comment