Long lost dog tag repatriated
Karen Young (McGill) displays her father’s World War II dog tag, delivered from northern France to Maplewood Cemetery in Anderson, Ind., at a June 19 ceremony. Photo by Jeff Stoffer 

Long lost dog tag repatriated

Jackson E. McGill, like so many of his generation, did not talk much about it. His time as an Army Air Force radio operator and mechanic in the European Theater of World War II was largely a puzzle that members of his family have never fully put together, more than two decades after his death.

A tangible piece of that puzzle arrived Monday, June 19, on what would have been the former staff sergeant’s 100th birthday.

McGill’s dog tag, discovered in a garden in northern France some 30 years ago, was presented to the family in a ceremony near his grave at Maplewood Cemetery in Anderson, Ind. The repatriation attracted state officials, American Legion representatives and other veterans, as well as Indianapolis media.

“I am a veteran myself,” said American Legion Department of France Vice Commander Valerie Prehoda, a retired U.S. Marine Corps lieutenant colonel, after presenting the dog tag to Karen Young (McGill), eldest daughter of the soldier. “I have my dog tag. I knew how important it would be for it to come back to the family in America. We veterans … our dog tags are very special to us.”

The journey of McGill’s dog tag from Monchy-Cayeux in the Pas-de-Calais department of northern France began on Aug. 31, 2021. That’s when Prehoda, a resident of that area, was surprised at a barbecue when a chateau owner and neighbor said her gardener wished to speak with her. “He said he had something to give me. He pulls out this little old dog tag. He said that for 30 years he had it in his wallet, waiting to find an American to give it to who might be able to find the family to bring it back.” She soon called a friend who is a noted historian and director of the Office of Archaeology, Patrimony and Tourism in the nearby city of Arras, who traced Jackson McGill to Anderson, Ind., and Maplewood Cemetery, and connections were quickly made.

The shy, elderly gardener – who Prehoda knows only as “Monsieur Luce” – explained that he had unearthed the dog tag near the citadel of Doullens where an aid station had operated during the war. Only through letters as recounted by McGill’s brother did the family know that the patriarch had survived three plane crashes in World War II, two of which he was the only soldier to walk away from them.

“We really didn’t know for sure where he was or what he did (in the war),” his daughter said. “He wrote to my uncle and told him about being in the wrecks but never said anything about any injuries or any of that.”

Grandson Matt McGill said, “My grandpa never really talked about life in the military. But from what we could tell, it was important to him.” He had served from Dec. 10, 1942, through an honorable discharge in 1945. As a radio operator, he enabled pilot-to-pilot communication and occasionally tended to wounded crew members. He did not speak of the plane crashes or those who did not come home alive. “It’s not a wonder why this man was so secretive.”

Instead, also like so many of his generation, McGill married, went college and raised a family. His daughter remembers him as a hard worker and devoted provider. “He had a full-time job and a part-time job for as long as I can remember,” his daughter said.

Martin Baier, Honorary Consul of France to Indiana, explained to the crowd at the ceremony what Jackson McGill and his fellow World War II veterans mean to those they liberated. “Jackson McGill was a soldier of freedom who left everything behind, risked everything, to liberate France and the world. In serving America during World War II, he saved the country of France. France is what it is today – a free and sovereign country – thanks to the bravery of such veterans as Jackson McGill … They are France’s heroes, and will be, forever to this day.”

“He was a hero to us, even without his service,” Karen said.

Sixteen-year-old Remi Trolle, whose family farms in the Monchy-Cayeux area, accompanied Prehoda in the presentation and shared gratitude on behalf of his family and others who honor U.S. sacrifices during World War II. “I’m very happy and privileged as a French man to accompany Valerie Prehoda today (to remember McGill) who fought for our freedom.”

The barbecue that started the dog tag’s journey to Indiana was prepared by Americans living in France – including Prehoda and other Legionnaires – who had volunteered to help a Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency project with Colorado State University to search for the remains of B17 pilot Lt. George Wilson. Wilson heroically crashed his plane into the farm field on July 8, 1944, near Monchy-Cayeux in order to spare destruction of the village, and searchers have spent two summers looking for his remains.

Through history, dog tags have been used to identify fallen U.S. military personnel, Indiana Department of Veterans Affairs Director Dennis Wimer explained at the ceremony. He said they first appeared during the Civil War where “at one of the battlefields, there are 15,000 gravesites, and 13,000 are unknown soldiers. So, many of them died without anyone knowing who they were. They are in unmarked graves, as an unknown soldier.”

Today’s technology, he explained, has reduced that use, but it hasn’t changed the meaning of a dog tag. “Dog tags have varied quite a bit over the years. But it’s something that … binds us together. We all have them. We can look at them and share, and see who we are, where we came from.”

Wimer, who sang the national anthem to open the ceremony, presented a certificate to Prehoda from Indiana Gov. Eric Holcomb, officially declaring her an “Honorary Hoosier” for having brought the McGill dog tag back to the family in Anderson.

After a rifle salute and taps from the Daleville American Legion Honor Guard and “Amazing Grace” on the bagpipes by Denise James, the cemetery’s manager, Ray Sabol, made an important point about the gathering: “This ceremony reminds me of something I read several years ago, and it’s simply that when a deceased person’s name is spoken from time to time, their memory never really dies. I think we have done a marvelous job today keeping Sgt. Jackson McGill’s memory alive.”