CHARLES TOWN, W.Va. – Frank Buckles is 106 now and not as spry as he used to be. But try to help him from a chair to his feet, and he will bellow a loud, clear “No.”
Ninety years after the headstrong teenager lied his way into a uniform, then the European theater of World War I, the older version of that boy remains fiercely independent, determined to live life on his terms, at his pace.
That means to learn about Buckles, you’ll need to sit a spell – to hear stories of a lifetime that hardly seems possible today, to hear stories of a war that few are still able to tell.
More than 4.7 million Americans joined the military from 1917-18, but the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs says only three survive. For decades, Buckles sat in the living room of his stone farmhouse in a scenic corner of West Virginia and read issues of a military magazine called The Torch, watching that list dwindle.
“Soon, I was able to say, ‘Oh my gosh, I am going to be one of the last,’” he says.
Buckles moves slowly now, his small frame stooped. Both ears require mechanical assistance, but his mind is sharp, with names and numbers from the early part of the 20th century slipping readily from his tongue.
He speaks Spanish and German, even surprising a visitor of Filipino descent with a warm send-off in Tagalog, a remnant of 31/2 years spent as a civilian prisoner of war in the Philippines during World War II.
His living room is full of mementos, commendations and photos, including one of French President Jacques Chirac presenting Buckles a Legion of Honor medal in 1999.
But his military service was just a moment in time, an escapade from an era when a boy with a quick mind and convincing tale could talk his way into anything.
Determined to go to war
Buckles was born Feb. 1, 1901, near Bethany, Mo., and raised on a farm. At 15, he delivered a load of horses to Oklahoma, landed a job at a bank and moved into a hotel.
When the U.S. entered the war in April 1917, “I wanted to get out and do something,” he remembers.
But he was only 16.
“I went to the state fair up in Wichita, Kansas, and while there, went to the recruiting station for the Marine Corps,” he says. “The nice Marine sergeant said I was too young when I gave my age as 18, said I had to be 21.”
Buckles returned a week later.
“I went back to the recruiting sergeant, and this time I was 21,” he says with a grin. “I passed the inspection … but he told me I just wasn’t heavy enough.”
Then he tried the Navy, whose recruiter told Buckles he was flat-footed.
Still, Buckles wouldn’t quit. In Oklahoma City, an Army captain demanded a birth certificate.
“I told him birth certificates were not made in Missouri when I was born, that the record was in a family Bible. I said, ‘You don’t want me to bring the family Bible down, do you?’” Buckles says with a laugh. “He said, ‘OK, we’ll take you.’”
He enlisted Aug. 14, 1917, serial number 15577.
Buckles went to Fort Logan, Colo., then Fort Riley, Kan., before boarding a ship to England, where he worked mainly as a warehouse clerk and a driver.
“But I was still trying to get to France,” Buckles says, “and I would pester every officer of any rank to get there.”
After a few months, he landed an assignment escorting an officer to France, where he used his down time to cruise the countryside on a bicycle.
After Armistice Day, Buckles helped return prisoners of war to Germany. In January 1920, he returned to the States aboard the USS Pocahontas with $143.90 in his pocket.
Jobs lead to world travel
Legions of men were coming home, all looking for jobs.
Buckles rejected his father’s suggestion that he go back to school. He noticed how quickly Army field clerks had been promoted, so he signed up for training in shorthand and typing, working a night job at an Oklahoma City post office for 60 cents an hour.
When he’d saved up $100, he hopped a train to Toronto, where he rented a room for $3 a week, wrote letters and landed a string of jobs over two years. Then he moved to New York, where he worked in banking and advertising.
But it was the shipping industry that suited him best, and he explored the west coast of South America while working for W.R. Grace &Co.
“I knew every port all the way down and most of the interior cities. You had to memorize them and know where they were,” Buckles says. “In those days, when you’d leave New York, you’re on your own. You’ve got to know the business ‘cause … nobody calls you on the telephone.”
Captured as a civilian
Then in 1941, while on business in the Philippines, the man who had tried so hard to reach the front lines of World War I was captured by the Japanese, a civilian prisoner of World War II.
A man who brought him food during those 31/2 years became a lifelong friend, well after Buckles had returned home, married and raised a daughter.
When the Filipino man’s three daughters were old enough, it was Buckles who paid their college tuition.
Today his own daughter, Susannah Flanagan, who keeps him company on the family’s 330-acre farm.
“I was never actually looking for adventure,” Buckles says. “It just came to me.”
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