My Mother. My hero who won a Battle Ribbon at the Battle of the Bulge. December 16, 1944. A SCRAPBOOK LOOK FROM JEAN BRONSON GILLIS BURSON.

John Patrick Gillis was mother's hero. He taught her to dance while standing on his feet. One of her happiest memories

JOHN PATRICK GILLIS , SGT. WWI AND MEX. BORDER DI, b. September 14, 1898, Southern Pines N.C.; d. June 11, 1934, Escambia County, buried Union Cemetery, Brewton, Al.; m. CLARE EUNICE JERNIGAN, June 20, 1920, Escambia County, Alabama.
He was a SGT. WWI AND MEX. BORDER DI: serving with Co. "G" 123rd U.S. Infantry 1st Al. Infantry for duty on Mexican Border
He was a handsome man, very tall who adored his wife and children.
He married Clare Eunice Jernigan, a descendant of Benjamin and Vashti Vann Jernigan, sent to settle in the Burnt Corn area to herd cattle for Benjamin's friend, Andrew Jackson, who anticipated having to fight the Spanish. Ironically Vashti Vann, Eunice's great grandmother, was Cherokee Indian, a descendant of Powhatan through his daughter Cleopatra who married Powhatan's brother Opechancanough who later became Powhatan himself. She was the great great granddaughter of the Squirrel King of the Chickasaw of whom Edward Cashin wrote in Guardians of the Valley.





Jean Bronson Gillis Burson, my mother, the oldest of his eventual family of five was born May 11, 1921 in Brewton, Alabama. Not long after, her little brother, Jim, was born and this engineer who studied  at the University of Alabama and graduated from Auburn where Mother was born, settled his family in Brewton, Alabama, very near his mother, Josephine Newkirk Gillis, and father, James Knox Gillis. 



Unfortunately, tragedy struck when Mother was 13 years old. It was Saturday, the chain broke on the log truck her father was in and the logs came into the cabin killing him immediately. The weekend before he had sat before their radio with Eunice listening to the Old Time Gospel Hour. Moved by the words of the "Old Rugged Cross" he told Eunice, "When I die, I want them to sing that song."


That song was sung way too soon, but those words had great impact on the future of those children. Sharing his faith, my grandmother moved from their home on the boundary of the town to one situated halfway between the Presbyterian Church and the School.  Jean and Jim dressed to go to Nursing School
Jean was just 13, but she went to work as soon as possible down at the 5 & 10 store keeping their books. 
Jean, Jim, Sylvia, Virginia, and Patricia grew up a close knit family. When Jean graduated from T R Miller High School, she asked her Sunday School teacher to go with her down to the bank to borrow money to go to Nursing School. Her dear brother bought her a suitcase with money saved from his paper route. 
She graduated from St. Margaret's in Montgomery just as her own brother got orders to go into the Army. The thought of others caring for her beloved brother made her determined to do the same for whomever she could 



 Patriotism is in our blood having served in every war from the very beginning of our country and WWII was no different. 

And so, it just so happened that the time of her graduation led to her boarding a ship to ship out to Europe where she would take a Hospital Ship to France, then board trains to go to the front lines. Her stories of individuals she passed down to me through her tales of Alliwishus, a story to which I will link later on. 

I am sure my grandmother was proud that this daughter of hers, a descendant of warrior women of the early days of this glorious country was following her father's example in serving her country -- along with her beloved brother, Jim (Brother).   




She joined the 165 Hospital Division and set sail to LeHavre. 

I wish I knew the names of these people, but mother had them cut out and pasted on the wall of her desk area for years. I had to tear some very carefully from the glue. Some she remembered, some she did not. But after seeing the article in the Panama City News Herald by Bob Hughes on his service with the Battle of the Bulge, I thought I would share these. He may actually know some of these heroes. 

The bunks were triple stacked. The windows were blacked out. Mother walked the corridor with a Flashlight. Something that became a real problem when a young soldier affected by flame throwers attempted to take her life to cover the flame. 





Here she is on the eve of departure. 





























































She was spunky and sassy. There wasn't a joke she didn't relish. People called her frequently when she was confined to her wheelchair to tell her a joke. Just to here her hearty infectious laughter!




 









Here you have Jean on the rail track, perhaps when she left the train to buy some eggs (a rarity) from a farmer on the side of the road. Her friend would not tell the engineer to slow until she promised to share




And then the war was over. Mother was assigned to Augusta General where my father, Dr. Elkanah George Burson, was stationed. Trained at Walter Reed as an anesthesiologist, he had been sent home from Leyte in the Philippines because of pleurisy. He wanted to be a neurosurgeon. Unfortunately, all residencies were taken before he was released.
And so he was there when the “most beautiful woman I ever saw” walked into the Officer’s Club.



My father set out across the state and at the recommendation of his brother-in-law, Claude Williams, he visited Dothan, Alabama. "That's a growing place," Daddy was told by Claude, a salesman who traveled the state frequently. 
He met Oliver Bentley at the Shell Station who told him to go down to Dothan Drug and talk to Grady Watford. He settled as a General Practitioner in Dothan into an office above Dothan Drug where John Martin (survivor of the Bataan Death March), Dr. William Ball (pediatrician), Quay Fortner (insurance) also had offices.  It was 1947. He went to Brewton one Sunday and asked Mother to marry him. He brought her home to their apartment and wound up delivering three babies that night. 


Daddy (born July 4, 1918) retired in 1988 at 70.  Mother died on July 16th, 2010. Daddy followed December 22, 2011. 
Oh to be worthy of the two who raised me. 
I have included the pictures from my mother's collection to make them available to those who might recognize someone or be able to use them for historical purposes. These were heroes who served and many gave all so that we might have the freedoms we enjoy. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. They were both willing.