The Mattingly’s: My Military Family
From the American Revolution to Operation Iraqi Freedom
In celebration of Veterans Day!
I often considered those in uniform that I served with my “military family.” However, a recent article by a colleague and member of the Military Writers Guild after the passing of his Grandfather, a World War II combat veteran, made me start to think about my real family members that served with the Armed Forces of United States. With the help of my brothers who had copies of old photographs and our family’s genealogy, I decided to write this article.
Just like the United States, my family’s military service began in the Revolutionary War with my something-something great-grandfather William “Constable Billy” Mattingly’s service in the Maryland Militia. Not much is written about his service but from his name we assume he was a constable… The Mattingly’s were part of the Catholic immigration from Britain to Southern Maryland in the 1600s. During the American Revolution, towns along the coastline of the Chesapeake Bay were easy targets for British Royal Navy ships that patrolled the coastline and attempted to blockade ports on the Eastern Seaboard. Like many that served in the Revolution, Constable Billy and some others in the community received land grants in the West. According to historical accounts, the group traveled west through Pennsylvania and then south to what would become the 15th state of the Union, the Commonwealth of Kentucky. The settlers founded Saint Mary’s, named after their hometown in Maryland. The town would be not far from the first Catholic cathedral west of the Allegheny and Bishop Flaget, “the first bishop of the west” who rode the diocese on horseback.
The military service of the generations between Constable Billy and my grandfather, James Felix Mattingly, is not well known except to say that they served in both the Union and Confederate Armies in the Civil War. The family’s genealogical records show a family relation, Private Henry B. Mattingly, Company B, 10th Kentucky Infantry, was awarded the Medal of Honor for heroism in battle on September 1, 1864, at the Battle of Jonesboro, Georgia, south of Atlanta. The 10th Kentucky Infantry was mustered out of the service in Louisville, my hometown. Private Mattingly returned to Marion County and was later buried at Pitts Point, land which is now part of today’s Fort Knox. It is interesting that Private Mattingly was disabled from his service. In 1890 he applied for a veteran’s pension but died in 1893 before receiving one penny from the government. The US has a long history of forgetting its veterans after they return home from war.
Growing up, on my Grandmother’s chest of drawers there was a sepia toned photograph of my grandfather in his woolly World War I “doughboy” uniform with it a high-necked collar. Other pictures show him with the wrapped leggings which were the common soldier’s uniform of the era and the brimmed Army campaign cap.
My grandfather lived in Saint Mary’s until he was drafted into the U.S. Army during World War I and was training for deployment at Camp Taylor, Kentucky. Camp Taylor was a makeshift camp built in 90 days on what was the rural farm country outside of Louisville. My grandmother’s family farm was near the camp although she was a business lady working for an insurance company in Louisville. The war ended on November 11, 1918, and Grandpa was discharged from the Army before being deployed. After marrying my grandmother, he stayed in Louisville owning a couple of taverns and didn’t return to Saint Mary’s except to buy his cars. He didn’t trust the car dealers in the big city of Louisville. When he passed away, I remember my grandmother receiving the U.S. flag at the funeral home, a small gift from the citizens of the United States.
One thing I learned from my father, William Donald Mattingly-known as Don by family and friends, while growing up is that he did not enjoy his time in the Army during World War II. My dad was drafted into the Army, had a problem shooting and was detailed to the Quartermaster Corps. After basic training, he went by troop ship to the China Burma India theater. In his diary, he wrote about sailing past Hawaii and Pearl Harbor on his Pacific transit. In India, he ran a Quartermaster Soldiers Store (PX) in Calcutta. I remember playing with his hat and ribbons as a kid. And, while other kids talked about their dads in Europe or the Pacific, my dad told us about the poverty, the swollen bellies of kids laying along the roads in India and the delight of getting fresh milk at the Army Hospital in Calcutta. As a kid, I recall he wore an old Ike Jacket sometimes doing chores in the fall with a bit of spilled paint on his sleeve. For the most part, my Dad avoided outdoor activities like camping while I was a Boy Scout, saying “he had enough of tents in the Army.” He served in India for three years, reaching the rank of private first class and returning home at the end of the war. I think the best things that came out of his time in the Army was the occasional fresh milk and real s*** on a shingle or creamed beef on toast made with real chipped beef. How I miss his breakfasts! He taught me to respect others and often spoke of Mahatma Gandhi, a person I would learn about later as the U.S. moved through the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s.
As Vietnam escalated during my youth, my oldest brother Louis was married and had his first child before the draft kicked into high gear. However, he served the country and the Navy for years as a tool-die maker at the Louisville Naval Ordnance Station which built and refurbished guns for the fleet. He didn’t wear a uniform but his service was important to the ships on the gun line off the coast of Vietnam.
Gerry was not so lucky with the draft. Newly married and beginning a career with the phone company, he received that dreaded letter, ‘Greetings from the President of the United States you have been selected’…. It was not long before we began weekly trips to Fort Knox to visit him during Basic Training. Looking forward to returning to his wife and career, he bypassed the offer to become a 90-day wonder and an almost certain ticket to South East Asia. He did go to Vietnam, but as a personnel specialist serving at Long Binh, the biggest camp in Vietnam. Gerry served at a time when the military was not very popular for a country that lacked the will to win in the jungles of Vietnam. Probably the worst I ever felt was when he left for Vietnam. I was proud of him but saw the fear on my Mom’s face and the tears in her eyes as we headed home and Gerry headed to Vietnam. However, our family was lucky, Gerry returned after his tour. Unlike, the families of the 58,000 whose names are engraved on “The Wall” or the families that had to deal with the physical and mental injuries suffered by their sons, daughters, and fathers in Vietnam. When Gerry returned, America was trying to find its way out of Vietnam.
In January 1973, the Vietnam War ended for the U.S. and I registered for what would be the final draft and received my draft card with the classification as a full-time student. I was a senior faced with all the questions every senior high school student tries to figure out. A few months before graduation, a Navy recruiter visited my high school. That same month Camera 35, a photo magazine ran a story about the Navy’s Photography School. With my eyes set on becoming a Navy photographer, I signed a contract to join the Navy as a Photographers Mate, Photographic Intelligenceman, or Engineers Aide. The recruiter assured me that I would surely get the photography school with my experience as the school’s photographer. However, I received orders to the Armed Forces Air Intelligence Training Center to learn the skills of a Photographic Intelligenceman and a career in Naval Intelligence. My career allowed me to do things I would have never dreamt of as a kid growing up; some good and that still bring a smile to my face and others which remain in a dark place to be forgotten.
None of my other brothers or sister decided to serve in the military but they have all raised beautiful families and given much to their communities. Looking back at my family’s military service, they served in the Army which I had intentions of doing until the Navy recruiter stopped at my high school. I joined whereas my grandfather, father, and brother answered their nation’s call to serve. The defense of the United States depends on its industrial backbone to provide the beans and bullets and for that reason, I consider Lou, that served as a Navy gun builder as important to the defense of our country as those of us that donned the uniform. I thank my family members for their service, I am proud that they served when our nation called, and I am grateful to God that they returned home!
A last thought on my service. Often when a person I meet learns that I am a veteran they will offer a “thank you for your service” but I often say to myself, “thank you for letting me wear the uniform “our nations cloth.” I don’t say it out loud for if they never served they probably wouldn’t understand and if they don’t understand no explanation will suffice.
Master Chief Dave Mattingly is a writer and national security consultant. He retired from the U.S. Navy with over thirty years of service. He is a member of the Military Writers Guild and a published reviewer of books dealing with foreign policy, intelligence and military operations. He holds a Masters of Arts in National Security Studies from American Military University.
