Please take the time to read this.
"Thank you Mr Farley"
Nearly 100
years have passed since Private First Class Peter V. Farley was killed on a
battlefield in France during World War I. Many things have changed since then,
but the South Branch of the Raritan River still flows less than half a mile
from his burial place in Califon, New Jersey.
Almost every fly fisher in the state will at some time come to this area
to enjoy the river’s excellent trout fishing, and in that journey, drive past
Lower Valley Cemetery and the large monument of a soldier that marks Private
Farley’s grave.
For a long
time, I didn’t give the monument any special thought. I was either in a joyful
mood on my way to fishing, or too relaxed on the way home after a morning spent
on a beautiful stream to give much attention to a cemetery on Rt. 513 that
looks pretty much like every other cemetery.
It wasn’t until my friend, who is known as “the Streamer King”, and has
a penchant for history, directed my attention to the image of the soldier that
I started to pause and think on every trip to the river about the man who is
buried there. That day, the Streamer
King started a tradition that we always follow whenever we drive past.
An eventual
stop at the gravesite to read the inscription informed me of the soldier’s
rank, full name, and military unit served. His date of birth is inscribed
simply as 1887 without a specific day, but it is significantly noted that he
was killed in battle on September 26, 1918, just weeks before the armistice that
ended the war. Standing on the grass
near the grave, without the physical distance of the road and without my car to
provide a layer of emotional insulation, I imagined the hardship and tragedy
endured by this lone soldier and his family, and thought of the sacrifices that
many have made so I could have the freedom to do the things that I cherish. I
wanted to know more about Peter V. Farley and to gain a deeper appreciation for
all of our veterans.
An Internet
search provided census information, and the 1910 census shows that Peter V. Farley
resided on Philhower Road in the township of West Tewksbury, a rural community
of farms and homesteads at that time. His father’s occupation is listed as
“Carpenter” on the official document, but no occupation is given for the then 23-year-old
future soldier, and I’ve been disappointed to not find information about Peter
Farley’s pre-military life. A visit to the Califon Historical Society, and conversations
with the society’s friendly volunteers, turned up a rumor that Peter Farley is
not actually buried in the location of his monument, but may actually be buried
in France. This was a surprise to me, and started a new avenue of investigation
that at least provided some likely explanations surrounding the events of
Private Farley’s death.
A search of World War I battles
shows that the date Private Farley was killed in action matches the start of
the Battle of Argonne Forrest. American
Expeditionary Forces played a key role in this pivotal battle, which continued
until the armistice, and forced the German army from previously held critical
territory. The AEF suffered enormous casualty numbers, with more than 26,000
soldiers killed, mostly in the early days of the battle, making this one of the
bloodiest battles in U.S. military history.
More than 14,000 American soldiers are still buried at the Meuse-Argonne
Cemetery in France. These statistics seemed to at least give plausibility to
the rumor that Private Farley was not buried in Califon. I contacted the
Meuse-Argonne Cemetery with the full name, rank, and date of death for Peter V.
Farley. A prompt response indicated that he is not buried there, or in any of
the overseas locations administered by the American Battle Monuments
Commission.
Local Califon historian Don
Freibergs, current owner of Rambo’s Country Store, which has been in the center
of town since one year after Peter Farley’s birth, was very helpful in
providing me with a local newspaper article from the 1920’s supporting that
Private Peter V. Farley is indeed buried where you see his monument in
Califon. A call to the Lower Valley
Cemetery revealed that although he was killed in the fall of 1918, Peter Farley
wasn’t laid to rest in Califon until the summer of 1921. In keeping with a
common practice in WWI, he remained in France for nearly three years until our
military could undertake the large task of returning loved ones to families
that requested a burial in the United States. Repatriating these soldiers was a
logistical nightmare, and our military performed admirably and honorably,
operating in areas ravaged by war, and in a world that was just beginning to
recover from the historically deadly flu pandemic of 1918-1920.
I submitted
a request to the National Archives in St. Lois, MO, and received a large packet
of photocopied records regarding the return of Private Farley. These records show the correspondence with the
military, and included six, handwritten letters from the family that are
extremely touching, reflecting the long, heartfelt process of awaiting their
loved one’s return. His father writes,
“…if there is anything that we should know before the body comes, please let us
know, as we are so anxious to have him come home to Califon, New Jersey, where
he was born and raised.” Another letter,
written by the soldier’s mother speaks tenderly of, “our dear son, killed in
the war”, and reveals that he was the youngest of five children, never married,
and the only child living at home when he was drafted. She further writes, “his father is eighty years old, and is hard
of hearing and to understand, so he wants me to write again.”
Information
from the National Archives spelled out more details.
Private Farley’s body returned from Europe on
the steamship “Wheaton”, which made many cross-Atlantic voyages to return several
thousand fallen servicemen.
The Wheaton
docked in Hoboken, NJ, and Private Farley’s body, escorted by Private Lewis
Cooper of the 18
th Infantry, was transported by rail to the train
station that is now used by the Califon Historical Society.
Peter V. Farley was brought back to the house
where he was born, until his burial beneath the monument in Lower Valley
Cemetery.
What will
continue to stay with me are the words of the parents in their last letter. In the midst of crushing heartbreak, they are
able to express great gratitude, and typical of Gold Star Families, they reached
beyond their own grief to show profound love and empathy for the other fallen
soldiers and their families when they wrote:
May God bless his body and paddle it
safely across the
sea, and God bless those that handled
him with care,
and God bless the dear boys that are
left over on the other side. May their names ever remain in the hearts of the
people that are left. They have lost
their lives for the world.
There are
so many unanswered questions that will probably remain unanswered. After
reading the parent’s poignant letters, I wish that I could somehow correspond
in return, and say to them, “tell us all about your son”. We would have what must surely be the lost
stories of a vibrant young life, instead of just the forever still
monument.
In a way, the unanswered questions
and dead ends surrounding the details of Peter V. Farley’s life and death hint
of a larger truth. If we don’t value the
stories of our veterans and make concerted efforts to know them, then it
doesn’t take much for the knowledge of their deeds to fade with the passage of
time. Looking through the census of 1920
is also a stark reminder of truth and the passage of time, because it doesn’t
include Peter V. Farley. No one ever knew
a middle-aged Peter Farley. He, like so
many before and after, is left through the tragedy of war, young for
eternity. It’s a cost that seems too
great to bear, and needs to be recognized.
Regardless of political persuasion or personal views concerning the
wisdom or lack thereof of a particular military action, the men and women who
serve our country are extraordinary people, and we have the human obligation to
understand their experiences. The life
and death of Private Peter V. Farley reminds us that the time to listen to
their stories grows shorter and more precious.
We have parades
and ceremonies, but on a deeper level, there are the small things that are more
meaningful than all of the parades, ceremonies, medals, and monuments. There
are the personal items left at graves across the country, at The Wall in
Washington, and the silent prayers said by people who miss loved ones everyday.
And for this soldier, buried in Califon for almost 100 years, who gave his life
in the war that established the date for Veteran’s Day, the Streamer King and I
roll down the car windows every time we pass by, and with deep appreciation
call out what is meant for all of our veterans.
“Thank you Mr. Farley.”
This article was written by Chuck Coronato
