On December 7, 1941, the world changed irrevocably for many, including a 20-year-old from Indiana named Richard Yarling, who was in his fraternity house at Indiana University when the news about the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor broke over the radio.
As he listened, the horror of the situation sank in, especially considering he was of draft age, carrying the legacy of a father who had served in the Navy during World War I.
A year later, Yarling graduated college and joined the Navy, quickly finding himself on the USS Chauncey, heading into the Pacific theater, where he faced air raids and the terrifying conditions of wartime.
His memories of the horrors he witnessed, such as the aftermath of a battle on an island where bodies were stacked like firewood, underscored the brutality of war.
Despite these experiences, Yarling was proud of his service and later transitioned to a life as a lawyer, family man, and an avid cigar smoker and red wine enthusiast, living to the remarkable age of 103.
As Yarling approached this significant birthday, his granddaughter, Katheryn Stacer, wondered about his status among peers, specifically if he was the oldest living World War II veteran in the Austin area.
Tragically, Yarling passed away just a day after turning 103, an event unexpectedly prompted by his advanced age.
While Stacer sought to honor her grandfather’s legacy, it led to a deeper inquiry into the veteran landscape of Austin. The city, known for housing several long-lived veterans, brings to mind Richard Overton, who once held the title of the nation’s oldest WWII veteran until his passing at age 112 in 2018.
As of now, a question lingers: who remains as the oldest veteran in the area: Yarling, or possibly someone else?
Research conducted among local veterans groups, including the Texas Veterans Commission and Honor Flight Austin, revealed a gap in knowledge about the oldest surviving veterans in Austin.
Looking back through older TV news stories unveiled the name Karl Schlessinger, who turned 106 last year and passed away earlier in January, just shy of 107.
This information confirmed that Yarling was not the oldest WWII veteran in Austin at the time of his death — Schlessinger, being three and a half years his senior, claimed that title.
Yet, as the conversation around aging veterans continued, a new name emerged: George Stowell Burson, born in Fillmore, California. As an imaginative child, he would experiment with box kites, including a rather questionable method involving live cats in parachutes, which hinted at his adventurous spirit.
When drafted, Burson chose to join the Army Air Forces, emboldened by the desire for flight and a sense of duty.
On September 12, 1944, his life took a perilous turn during a bombing mission over Germany, where his B-17 bomber was attacked by enemy fighters.
The harrowing experience included bailing out of a damaged aircraft under fire, resulting in Burson landing in enemy territory where he endured capture and incarceration at Stalag Luft I, a prisoner of war camp in Barth, Germany.
Reflecting on his POW experience, Burson maintained a surprisingly upbeat disposition, stating that, while it was no ‘picnic,’ conditions at his camp were better than at others, allowing him to remain in relatively stable conditions during the war.
Burson was liberated in May 1945, returning home after enduring a harrowing chapter of history.
Years later, he managed to revisit parts of Europe with his family, expressing a philosophical view on the reconciliatory power of understanding, stating: ‘You never blame the people for the actions of the government.’
After his military career, Burson became a middle school math teacher and recently celebrated his 104th birthday, making him a contender for the title of Austin’s oldest living veteran.
While the honor of being the oldest may seem significant, for Burson and others of his generation, the weight of their shared stories and experiences transcends age; it’s about the sacrifices made and lessons learned.
In a society where the number of World War II veterans is dwindling, the tales of their resilience carry vital lessons for younger generations.
As veterans like Burson age gracefully, the reality of isolation often accompanies their remarkable longevity.
Both Burson and Yarling experienced long lives yet grappled with the loneliness that comes with losing friends and loved ones, making regular conversations poignant reminders of their shared, yet solitary experiences.
Burson articulates the isolation he feels, expressing that his days sometimes blend into a monotony marked by waiting, even as he retains a sense of humor about his predicament.
‘Just sitting here waiting to die,’ he humorously reflected, yet his words also captured a deeper reality of how living long can often mean witnessing the departure of an entire era of friendship and camaraderie.
The legacy of veterans like Yarling and Burson speaks not only to their survival but also to the human experience of loss and remembrance in the shadows of history.
As we approach a future where every World War II veteran will have passed on, their collective memories become treasures to uphold, reminding us of the sacrifices they made and the importance of learning from their experiences.
In honoring the lives of these remarkable individuals, we celebrate the indomitable spirit of those who lived through one of humanity’s darkest times and emerged to craft hope and legacy in their later years.
image source from：kut
