Robert Pioli broke his silence on the horrors of war and imprisonment in Moosberg the day he was notified that his lost dog tags from World War II were found.

“There are guys that say they won’t talk about it and that talking about it brings back memories, but you never forget the feeling of a bullet flying this close past your head,” described Pioli, 96, of Devola, with his index finger within an inch of his right temple.

As he told the story, it had been 74 years, five months and one week since he was captured as a prisoner of war.

“I’ll never forget listening to what they did to those boys in the civilian prison, those ones with the Star of David on them. All night long we heard them… we were scared that they would come for us next,” he said.

Today is nationally recognized as Prisoners of War/Missing in Action Day, and according to the U.S. Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency, at present, more than 82,000 Americans remain missing from World War II, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Cold War and the Gulf Wars/other conflicts.

JANELLE PATTERSON The Marietta Times 1st Lt. Robert L. Pioli explains Wednesday to his wife Roberta, right, the different duties and areas of a B17 bomber during World War II using a model of the plane.

Pioli was a POW for 381 days after his B17 bomber was shot down over Hungary during the war.

And he is one of 10 Washington County U.S. Military veterans to be recognized in the first class of the new Washington County Veterans Hall of Fame.

Jared Smith, a member of the Washington County Veteran Service Commission, explained this week that the commission is launching the recognition program to identify both outstanding military service while in uniform and those who have shown loyalty to veteran advocacy, civic and community service and to their professions as civilians.

Nominations for the first class of inductees were accepted from local veterans organizations through the beginning of September and among the group are Bronze Star, Silver Star, Purple Heart and medals of Valor recipients.

“One is a hell of a story,” described Smith. “That’s Sgt. Meredith Barnett who earned a Silver Star from his service in the Vietnam War. We’re recognizing him posthumously since he ultimately gave his life to save a fellow Marine and absorbed the shrapnel blast by laying on the man’s body.”

On Nov. 1, Barnett, Pioli and others will be recognized with an induction ceremony for the Washington County Hall of Fame.

The Marietta Times will continue to feature stories of the inductees leading up to that ceremony, which will be held in Marietta at the American Legion with friends and family of the inductees invited to attend.

“We’re going to keep that an intimate gathering, because it’s really for these service men and women to see that we as a county appreciate their sacrifices,” said Smith.

Prisoner of War

Pioli’s mother Dina, of Niagara Falls, N.Y. screamed when she received the Western Union telegram that her son was missing in action, neighbors told the family.

Her brother had died in a POW camp in Italy in World War I.

She had not allowed her sons to voluntarily sign up for the war after Pearl Harbor in 1941, but Robert was determined to join and volunteered for the draft, he said.

Then his first day in Foggia, Italy as a young American Airman, he saw the carnage of returning B17s on the airstrip.

“The airplanes came in and God they were shot up,” he described, hands shaking. “There are ambulances coming in all over the place. A green flare meant you had wounded aboard, a red flare meant you had dead bodies. That’s the first day I knew I wasn’t going home alive.”

Eight missions later Pioli had to dive out of a flaming airplane with no training on how to pull his parachute.

“Everything was spinning and I was so sick,” he described. “I pulled my chute and it jerked me. But then I floated so slow and all was peaceful as an ME 109 (plane) circled around me.”

Pioli could make out the features of the pilot and wished for death.

“I hoped he would just put me out of my misery,” he recalled, with a furrowed brow. “But he just circled, and circled. And then he left.”

That moment of mercy, Pioli would only see glimpses of for the next year.

He never knew why the guard in his first prison stopped shooting once he opened the door.

“The British were bombing and it was like the Fourth of July, we were cheering until he open fired into our cell and the four of us scattered to the four corners,” Pioli recalled. “But when he opened the door he just stood there, still, then he left.”

Nor could he put to words the camaraderie built while imprisoned in cold barracks.

But he held onto memories of home, even when in solitary confinement and while being interrogated.

“A lot of guys went home while in solitary, some went and built their garages in their heads,” he said, nodding with eyebrows raised. “But I, well I hit home runs out of the park every time.”

Two weeks after Dina was notified her son was missing, flowers he had paid for to arrive on Mother’s Day showed up on her doorstep.

“I was still missing then, and when she got my last letter,” explained Pioli.

“And Dad always ended his letters with ‘P.S. Don’t worry,'” added Mary Ann Hooper, his daughter.

Despite the experiences he went through, he said not talking about his service only left his seven children and his wife Roberta handling the fallout of the nightmares and post-traumatic stress for 50 years.

“Back then we didn’t know what PTSD was,” said Roberta. “But one of my sons, who heard (Robert) yelling in the night said, ‘Daddy’s back fighting the war.'”

Recalling the day Pioli decided it was time to share the good and the bad memories still brings Roberta to tears.

“One Sunday afternoon the phone rang,” explained Roberta. “He said ‘Am I able to speak to 1st. Lt. Robert L. Pioli?'”

Pioli’s dog tags had been found by a World War II historian from Poland.

“I don’t know how my tags got there,” he said. “If you go through war most people think you’re a hero, but most of the time you’re just scared to death… I’m no hero.”

Of course, the Pioli’s seven children, 13 grandchildren and four great-grandchildren beg to differ.

One even plans to have that signature, “P.S. Don’t Worry,” tattooed on his arm.

“God saved him for me and my seven kids,” concluded Roberta.

Ultimate sacrifice

On Nov. 6, 1970, while occupying a night defensive position northwest of DaNang, Sgt. Meredith Barnett’s platoon came under an artillery attack.

“The story I was told was he was there and they were under heavy fire,” explained Meredith Barnett’s younger brother, Bob, of Barlow Township, where his brother also grew up. “The enemy kept getting closer and the fire got worse.”

The first round detonated about 200 yards away, according to records.

“They basically called in an air strike on top of themselves because that’s the only way they thought it would stop,” added Bob.

As more rounds poured in, members of the platoon were unable to reach covered positions.

“That’s when he saved a guy’s life,” said Bob. “He was a big guy, around 6-foot, 4-inches.”

Sgt. Barnett rushed to the Marine nearest him and threw himself on top of the man seconds before another round detonated only 10 feet away.

“The guy he saved came to see us once, and talked with the family,” described Bob. “But that hit us hard, losing him. Our family and friends took it hard.”

Barnett’s body was returned to the family, with an escort which left a lasting impression in Bob’s mind.

“He stood at attention, never left the body for almost three days,” he said, noting the honor and reverence the Marine held for his brother. “I miss (Meredith), you know the things we used to do; hunting fishing, working on the farm together and putting in the hay. He was an easy-going type guy.”

Bob said it didn’t surprise him that Meredith acted with such valor, and he’s glad the county is choosing to honor him.

“I just don’t know how to put it. When you die at a young age you don’t have a history,” he lamented. His brother died just a few days shy of his 21st birthday.

“You don’t have a history, and then there’s no future,” he said.

Barnett was ultimately recognized by the President of the United States for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action while serving as a Platoon Sergeant with Company I, Third Battalion.

2018 Washington County Veterans Hall of Fame Inductees:

• 1st Lt. Robert L. Pioli, U.S. Army Air Corps 1942-1945; Military Service.

• Sgt. David Smith, U.S. Marine Corps 1953-1956; Veterans Advocate, Professional Achievement, Civic and Community Service.

• Cpl. Joe Matthews, U.S. Marine Corps 1956-1958; Veterans Advocate, Professional Achievement, Civic and Community Service.

• Builder Petty Officer 3rd Class Ronald W. Davis, U.S. Navy 1966-1971; Veteran Advocate and Community Service.

• Spc. Kelly E. Burchette, U.S. Army 1967-68; Military Service, posthumous award.

• Sgt. Gary A. Rhoades, U.S. Army 1967-1969; Military Service.

• Cpl. Charles “Jean” Yost, U.S. Marine Corps 1967-1969; Civic and Community Service.

• Sgt. Meredith L. Barnett, U.S. Marine Corps 1969-1970; Military Service, posthumous award.

• Sgt. Steven J. Hall, U.S. Army 1969-1971; Military Service.

• Cpl. Kyle A. Hockenberry, U.S. Army 2010-2013; Military Service.

Source: Washington County Veterans Service Commission.