Fallen Soldier Coming Home from Korea after 56 Years by Mannix Porterfield The Register-Herald BECKWITH, WV — Darrell Scarbrough is coming home at last. His return to native Fayette County soil is not to the jubilant din of happy band music in a welcome home parade, but to the somber “Taps” of an Army bugler. Not to the fluttering confetti of revelers, but the simple and somber folding of an American flag. Not to the crack of celebratory fireworks, but the sharp report of a 21-gun salute creasing the harsh veil of an autumn sky in a family cemetery on a small knoll just off a country road, not far from where Scarbrough played as a youngster. Not to the rhetoric of political figures, but to the subdued praise of an Army chaplain at a memorial service. For 56 years, Scarbrough was missing in action, a victim of a fierce firefight when hordes of communist Chinese — numbering upwards of 180,000 — overran the 8th Calvary Regiment of the famed First Cavalry Division around Nov. 1, 1950, in the Korean Conflict, the so-called Forgotten War. A corporal, Scarbrough was a member of D Co., 1st Battalion, who had earned a Purple Heart only three months earlier when shrapnel from an enemy artillery shell ripped through his left arm. All his family knew about him for over five decades was that he was considered an MIA. Both parents died without ever learning the truth. Mother Margaret Francis Scarbrough died in 1980, and his father, Wesley Edmond Scarbrough, followed five years later. Seven years ago, a North Korean farmer was making repairs on an irrigation line in Unsan when he unearthed some Army dog tags. Excavation yielded an array of other military items — helmet liners, boots, a pocket knife, Zippo lighters. Even a K-ration packet of sugar, well preserved. Authorities were called in, and the Army set about the long and arduous task of identifying eight Americans and one Korean found in a mass grave. One of Scarbrough’s eight brothers, Gary, who lives in Fayetteville, donated a blood sample, and through DNA, positive identification was established. “First of all, we could hardly believe it,” reflected a sister, Mrs. Jesse (Marilyn) Richards, who lives on Bachman Road near Beckwith, a stone’s throw from the old family homestead. “We wondered what was going on. There were different emotions. We wished our parents were alive. We were happy that he was finally coming home, giving him a proper burial in the family cemetery.” For the past few years, the Central Identification Laboratory of the Joint POW/MIA Accounting Command worked with bone fragments and the blood sample submitted by Scarbrough’s brother to make a positive identification. The lab is the only facility of its kind in the world, employing 30 civilian forensic anthropologists with advanced degrees in skeletal analysis, as well as archaeology. Aiding this effort are three forensic odontologists, all of whom are military officers. To avert any subconscious bias from influencing the results, the anthropologists labor in a “blind” approach, unaware of the suspected identity of the individual being analyzed. Scarbrough was 20 years and 2 months old when he sacrificed his life in the encounter with Chinese forces who had invaded North Korea. After working one summer with a cousin in Michigan, he had enlisted in the Army by fudging on his age, but after insisting on staying in uniform at 17, his parents gave their consent. As the oldest of a dozen children — eight brothers and three sisters — memories of him are somewhat blurred. Some of his siblings were born after his death. “I have one recollection of him,” says Karen Slaughter, another sister. This was a night out for young Darrell and a cousin, both in uniform, and she remembers watching them getting groomed. “I’m standing in front of this dresser, looking at their reflection in the mirror,” she said. “I guess they had just shaved. I still remember the smell of soap and shaving cream. I was about 6 years old.” Another brother, Max, who also lives on Bachman Road, recalled watching the soldier leave the grandmother’s house, trudging down the road. “My mom and the kids watched him out of sight,” said Max, then about 10. “ That was the last time I saw him. Then we got the telegram, that he was missing in action. We didn’t hear anything after that.” In fact, only two years ago did the family learn anything further. That was when the oldest brother, Kenneth, a resident of Parkersburg, was contacted by a military official in Virginia, seeking a family meeting to discuss the mass grave in Korea. “We were proud of him,” Max said. “He set an example for the rest of the brothers. All of them served in the military but one. Seven brothers followed him.” “He had kind of a quiet personality. He was always working. But I don’t remember a whole lot about him.” Brother John was about 4, so his memories, likewise, are hazy. “I have one memory of him,” the Beckley resident said. “He was standing out in the road here. He was home on leave. He walked by me and said something to me, but I can’t remember what it was. That was my one memory of him. He was in uniform. “I do remember when the people from the military came to tell my mom he was missing in action. I’ll never forget her screams and cries. That will be etched in my memory forever.” ----- Lt. Col. Mike Cadle, public affairs officer for the West Virginia Army National Guard in Charles-ton, indicated the Army’s identification process is intricate, pain-staking and time-consuming. “Keep in mind, this was a mass grave and there were several remains found that had to be identified,” he said. “And obviously, without some evidence like DNA, they didn’t know whose remains those might be. It took a period for them to identify those folks and contact relatives.” Various charts of DNA came into play, and based on family genealogy, the Army was able to identify Scarbrough and the others. “The bottom line is, they found enough matches with DNA from bones and the dental records of the brother to make a positive identification.” The military has one soldier yet unaccounted for in Operation Desert Storm, 1,800 in the Vietnam War, 120 from the Cold War, 8,100 in Korea and some 78,000 missing in World War II. ----- Two other brothers — Michael and Ricky — survive Darrell, and two others are deceased, Charles and Larry, along with a third sister, June. Come Saturday, at Dodd-Payne-Hess Funeral in Fayetteville, the Scarbrough family will at last be able to give the fallen soldier a proper funeral. The 11 a.m. service will be conducted by Lt. Col. Bruce Reed, a chaplain with the National Guard in Charleston. At the family cemetery, full military honors will follow — the ceremonial folding of the flag, the bugler and a 21-gun salute. “It’s really been a process to go through,” Karen Slaughter said. “At first, you’re happy to hear that he was found. And all those years, you wondered what happened to him. Then you think, perhaps a family took him in. Maybe he married and for whatever reasons, just couldn’t make it back. You just think of all kinds of things. Then, you begin to realize this was somebody you really didn’t know. You just had to take his life, his actions, of what he did, and then somehow you get a picture of what kind of man he was.” Slaughter felt the mystery surrounding his death would never had been solved had not God intervened. “It was truly a miracle,” she said. “I give God the credit. This wouldn’t have happened without Him. It’s an answer to our prayers. We do thank Him.” While little is known personally about her brother, other than words that remain in his letters back home, Slaughter drew a portrait of him. “He was patriotic,” she said. “He loved his country. He loved his family. I just regret that I didn’t get to know him because I think I would have liked him a lot.” Published: Tuesday, October 24, 2006 10:30 pm The Register-Herald Beckley, Raleigh County, WV