Harry Archer Buzzett

West Point, 1944

Be Thou At Peace

Posted by Joe Buzzett on May 27, 2018:

'A true son of Apalachicola' - from Apalachicola Times note: The following eulogy was delivered Friday morning at St. Patrick Catholic Church by Joe Buzzett, on behalf of the Buzzett family at the funeral Mass for Harry Archer Buzzett, who passed away April 7 at the age of 94. One of a rare few from Franklin County to have attended West Point, a member of the Class of a44, Harry Buzzett went on to a distinguished military career, embodying throughout his life the eternal virtues of the Greatest Generation. Good morning. On behalf of my brother and sisters and our families we would like to give thanks to Fr. Roger, Sr. Jean, and the Shamrocks for making this Mass such a special celebration of my father's life. We would also like to thank all of you for coming from far and near to be with us today. Wow. What an incredible life! How do you eulogize the eulogist? Our Dad was always called on to give eulogies and dedication speeches because he had a gift of telling stories with humor and honesty. I could write a book on his life, in fact I may. Harry Archer Buzzett was born on Dec. 29, 1923 at the family home on Avenue D to Regina Gannon Buzzett and Wil Buzzett. His mother passed away about a month after his birth leaving his father Wil and Harry's five older brothers, John Joe, Rex, Carroll, Billy, and Gannon, and sister Regina, who they all affectionately called "Sister." The Buzzetts were a close-knit Catholic family who were very active participants in this church. They lived with their stepmother, Levina, and Wil's sister Anna and her crusty husband, Bill Fry, a steamboat captain. Their Aunt Mag was good to the kids often spoiling them at her beach house at Indian Pass. One time on my father's birthday, Mag asked him what he wanted for breakfast and he said "fried chicken" so she got a chicken out of the coop and made him fried chicken. His father started Buzzett's Pharmacy, where the Apalachicola Chocolate and Coffee Company is now, in the early 1900s and it stayed open until the 1980s. All of the children, except Harry, loved to work in the drug store and many became pharmacists. My father hated working there, choosing instead to work in the filling station, changing oil and filling up cars. He and his older brother Gannon were best friends. He was also very close to Willoughby Marshall who remained his oldest and dearest friend all of his life. When he was a kid he used to read magazines all of the time and tear out the postcards and send them in to get information back because he loved getting mail. One day he got pamphlet from West Point and from then on he wanted be a soldier. He chose to forego his senior year at Chapman High School, where he was to be class president, at age 16 to go to Marion Military Institute in Alabama to prep for the West Point exam. He was accepted into West Point and began in the fall of 1941. During the war the Army accelerated the curriculum to three years and he graduated on June 6, 1944, the same day his brother Rex was killed in the first wave during the D-Day invasion on Utah Beach. He was commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant in the field artillery and sent over to France, crossing the English Channel on Christmas Eve 1944. His unit, the 66th Infantry Division, as he would later tell his troops in Vietnam the 66th was the original Black Panthers, crossed on two ships, the Leopoldville and HMS Cheshire. He was on the deck on the Cheshire when he learned the Leopoldville, just ahead of them, was torpedoed by a German U-Boats, losing over 800 of his comrades. He fought with the French in the winter and spring of 1945 ultimately celebrating VE-Day at a farmhouse in France where the family made a cake. At the end of the war he got to see his brother Gannon as he made his way back through France after fighting in the Battle of the Bulge. He also got to visit his brother Rex's original grave site at Sainte-MAA"re-Aadegglise. During this same time his brother Carroll, a combat medic, was fighting at Guadalcanal with the Marines. He was so proud of all of this brothers and Sister. After the war he was assigned to Berlin where he was Brig. Gen. Charles Gailey, Jr.'s aide. The general would often say to him "Buzz, isn't is something that a farmer from Georgia and a fisherman from Florida are in old Kraut's mansion." After the war he was assigned to Ft. Benning, Georgia making it easy for weekend trips home to see his family and begin courting an Apalachicola girl who was a senior at Florida State University, Catherine Neil Austin. He proposed many times and finally she said yes after she graduated from college. So on April 24, 1950 Harry Archer and Catherine Neil were married in this church. It was a Monday morning. They honeymooned in North Carolina and then moved White Sands, California to go to guided missile school. Soon after Harry was called to serve in the Korean War and fought there with his artillery battery in fall 1952, receiving the Bronze Star (Valor) for saving a gun crew by heroically removing burning propelling charges that had taken a hit from enemy mortar fire, averting sure disaster. The date was Nov. 5; his first son, Michael, was born three days later on Nov. 8 in Apalachicola. Later in Vietnam as a full colonel, he ordered his helicopter pilot to land in a hot zone to evacuate a wounded soldier. He would tell of the great care that the MASH hospital gave to this soldier when they transported him to safety. This earned him an Army Air Medal (Valor). My parents loved traveling, and boy did they get a chance, moving some 33 times with the Army - places like Japan, Atlanta (where Ellen and Billy were born), El Paso (where Lisa and Cecilia were born) and Germany (where I was born). My father loved people and immersed himself in their cultures, learning enough French, German, Japanese, and even Arabic (from his time in Saudi Arabia) to warmly greet them and converse. He had a great sense of humor and would often call up the operator (with all the kids listening) and speak in broken Japanese asking for a telephone number -- while we would laugh hysterically listening to the poor operator try to help him. He and my mother were very generous. He donated a car to the Lazarus house in Lawrence. Massachusetts when he heard that one of the Brothers there needed one. They donated to Mother Theresa of Calcutta before anyone knew who she was, always receiving personal letters of thanks from Mother. He loved the St. George Island Volunteer Fire Department and would take his grandchildren down to the station house to climb on the engines. And he loved St. Patrick church and was instrumental in the fundraising for the restoration project in the early '90s. He loved Franklin County and St. George Island, one time even getting led out of a public meeting in handcuffs because he was openly challenging the county commissioners to "have the courage to make the hard decision to protect against over development." (That one got his picture on the front page of the Apalachicola Times). That is something he always did, was make the hard decision. He knew what was right and what was wrong and no matter how hard the path, he took it. A good example of this courage was when his father had given him his brother Rex's personal items, which included a watch and wallet he had with him during the invasion. In 1957, some 13 years after his death, he found Rex's farewell letter hidden in his wallet (stuck to the sidewall due to the ocean water). He was afraid to show the letter to his father for fear that it would re-open old wounds of his son's death. But in the end, the letter was not addressed to him but to his father. While that was difficult to do, he gave the letter to his father so he could read his son's last thoughts and prayers. He had a great love for poetry and a fantastic memory, often reciting Kipling and Poe verse by verse on his porch. They loved the house on the island, hosting all the kids, grandkids, nieces, nephews, cousins and friends every Christmas. The week always finished with Harry's birthday party on Dec. 29. He knew that the bonds made during this annual celebration would bind our extended families for a lifetime. He loved his kids, nieces, nephews and grandkids and was so proud of them. He gave each of the boys gold pocket watches that he meticulously picked out from high-end pawn shops in Westchester County, New York when he was up that way for West Point reunions, and the girls Mikimoto pearls that he became fond of during his time in Japan. After my mother passed, Harry moved to Tampa and provided us great joy (and some hardship). We got him a driver, well, it ended up being three drivers with Lori, the third one, being the charm. He loved to get out and see the water, near the channel, beach or Davis Islands, and he especially loved his lobster at Shells on Tuesdays or Cuban food at Carmines. He loved St. Patrick parish in Tampa and befriended the Franciscan priests, Fathers Angelus, Stan and Jim, taking them to lunch at Louro's Italian restaurant on the anniversary of their ordination. I want to thank my wife Jennifer for taking such good care and watching out for Harry over these past eight years and thanks to Lori taking him to doctor appointments, visiting in the hospital and taking him to so many great eating establishments in Tampa. In 2014 he was recognized by the French governemnt some 70 years after the war for his contributions in defeating the Nazis, receiving the French Legion of Honor at a ceremony with other World War II vets in St. Petersburg, capping off his amazing military career This past Thursday our parish priest, Father Stan, came to visit Harry and anoint him. He prayed with him and then asked if he was "ready to meet the Lord," to which my father replied "No." He had a zest for life and unrelenting will and resilience to live. But he had a great faith in God and truly believed that he is saved and have eternal life through his Son Jesus. When my father spoke at West Point functions he would often leave his audience with this challenge: "In the words of Lincoln, 'beware of rashness but with energy and sleepless vigilance go forth and give us victory. But victories or no victories be men of character and high purpose. Be true sons of West Point'." Harry Buzzett was a true son of Apalachicola, of Florida and we are so proud to be his sons and daughters. Rest in Peace Dad, We Love You.

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