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Landing Ship, Tank, USS LST 577, was torpedoed and lost, 11 Feb 45, between Palaus and Mindano. Robert (Bob) Stewart, our cousin, more like a brother, was lost at sea.
I remember how hard it was to say goodbye to my cousin, Bob. He sat in the big black chair in my grandmother's living room, so proud in his dress-navy blue uniform. Bob had enlisted in the U.S. Navy when he was only sixteen. Now at seventeen, he was leaving to fight a man's war in the Pacific. It would be the last time we would ever see him.
Being younger than my two sisters, I was always left behind, or at least out, of the fun and games. But not by Bob. He would play with me, carry me around on his shoulders, and never seemed to tire of the "little kid," that the older family had no time for. Always hard pressed for money, he still found ways to buy me little presents.
Bob was a good person and devoted to his mother, but did not have a good relationship with his father. As a result he spent most of his time at our house, with me and my father. Daddy loved his three girls, but loved Bob as if he were his own son.
Bob's mother, my Aunt Mary, used to take me in the car. She had a terrible singing voice, but we would sing, "Casey would waltz with the strawberry blonde," at the top of our lungs. We always saw in the movies how when the letter arrived in the small town, informing the parents that their son had died, the kindly postman, knowing the contents of the letter he was delivering, would gather friends or family of the parent to offer comfort and support. Not so in real life. The postman just handed the letter to my aunt and kept on his appointed rounds.
Aunt Mary took the letter to where Daddy was working. My Mother was away with her Mother as she was dying. My sister and me were home from school, at my other Grandmother's house for lunch when Daddy came. He had the sad burden of telling his Mother and his daughters of Bob's death.
Bob, like so many other boys, died before he had a chance to live. It is selfish, I know, but I wish that Bob could have lived to see my own sons and play with my daughters. Oh how different life could be if not for that war. Let us never forget. NEVER!

LST 576 was a sister ship to LST 577
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