I don't think of Bill Keller as a soldier and I'm pretty sure he would be ok with that. He was my grandfather. We called him "Popaw." He loved his grandchildren, preparing smoked meats (mainly turkey) and Ford automobiles. He was tall, emanated an abundance of self-confidence and was profoundly knowledgeable about all things agricultural-- at least from my perspective. He knew everyone in his small town of Oak Grove, Louisiana and everyone knew him.
As a kid in the late '70's, I'm sure it didn't occur to to me that Popaw may have once been in the service. He wore house slippers most the time, really thick glasses and had a Santa Clause-like belly. At night, he kept his teeth in a jar of water on the nightstand. Nothing in his world reflected a military past except that he maintained an "early to bed and early to rise" routine and he had a profound respect for the flag.
I don't recall when I found out he had served in WW1. I was still fairly young. As my interest in all things history and military grew, I wanted to know more about his experiences in Europe. The first few times I broached the subject, he skirted the question or didn't give much response at all.
He was so hesitant to talk about it, I was worried I would hurt his feelings if I brought it up. I distinctly remember one incident during some lazy holiday afternoon. A number of family were at our house in Alexandria while the proverbial feast was being prepared. The boys were watching an old war movie on TV. During a particularly intense nighttime battlefield scene, peppered with an abundance of machinegun fire and grenade explosions, Popaw got up from the sofa and said, "I've seen enough of that," as he left the room.
It wasn't until college that I made another attempt to ask him about his service directly. It was 1987. He was 93 years old. His bride of 57 years had been gone 8 years since. He was living alone in a 2 bedroom condo in Monroe, Louisiana around the corner from his daughter, Marion LaFoe. I was in school at Louisiana Tech that year-- about a 30 minute drive away. I managed a couple weekend visits with him. He had a "sitter" of sorts who stayed with him. I filled in for her on the weekends I was there. He always baked an angel food cake for my visit-- well, really for anyone who visited. He always had homemade angel food cake on hand.
Every morning he raised an American flag on a bonafide flag pole skirted with little white rocks in the middle of his small patch of lawn. This caught the attention of a newsman neighbor who saw to it that an article was written about this aged veteran and his unfailing patriotism. I wish I had been there for the interview.
In the evenings, after the flag came down, we settled in for "Wheel of Fortune" and dinner. One particular evening, a couple things happened. One, he responded by phone to a TV commercial advertising life insurance for individuals between 50 and 75-- knowing full well he was over 75 and two, he spoke a bit about his military service.
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| Bill Keller in Uniform |
Regarding his service, he gave up the following... He was "called up" in 1917 out of his home in Arkansas. He was loaded on a train for Pineville, Louisiana wearing his best set of clothes. When he reached the camp in Pineville, he was quartered in a freshly constructed wooden hut. The hut was so new it was not furnished yet. He was assigned a spot on the floor where a cot would normally go. They were to sleep on the floor for the night. The next morning he was upset to find that a poorly set nail in the floor had ripped a gaping hole in his best pair of pants. He said he "didn't much like the army after that".
Of those he met in Europe, he said he was least impressed with the British. "They were nearly as bad as the Germans". He found the Brits a rude, godless people with "no manners to speak of".
I've got Popaw's discharge papers. As a 22 year old, he enlisted as a Private in Company F of the 51st Infantry Regiment. They were part of the 6th Division during WW1. If he had a tunic, it would have looked like this...
Another interesting, if not somewhat dubious, thing he told me was that he was the last American soldier to leave France after the war. Naturally, I'm leery about that claim, but his argument went like this... he had double pneumonia and had been in the hospital in Paris for a good while. The hospital ship was the last ship to leave the harbor and his was the last stretcher to be loaded on the ship. No doubt he felt like he had been in France much longer than anyone else. A debarkation list found at ancestry.com lists William Keller as "Sick and Wounded" aboard the DeKalb June 11, 1919 bound for Virginia. I found a photo of the actual ship...
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| Hospital Ship DeKalb left St. Nazaire, France June 11 1919 |
He spoke highly of his care in the Paris hospital. In the 70's he took a trip back to France. I'm told he spent some time trying to hunt down his caregivers but the buildings and the people were gone. When he realized that he lost interest in the trip.
Popaw died at 97 years old. Whenever I hear people saying how someone had seen it all- from horse and buggy to the moon landings, I think of Popaw. He's one of those. Born in a simple cabin with an outhouse in Pickles Gap, Arkansas. He amassed a few nice belt buckles doing rodeo as a young man. Served his country in the trenches during the big war. Sold Ford automobiles out of his own dealership from 1927 to 1972. All the while entertaining family and friends until his death in 1991.
I imagine there is a lot I still don't know about his service during WW1, but I witnessed how he loved his family, his flag, and his maker.
