2LT David Baird Finch
17th Infantry, 7th Division
Killed in Action 13 November, 1944
on Leyete, Philippines
My Dad was born in Atkinson, Illinois, on June 5, 1912 to James Madison
Finch and Kate Nichol Finch. His father was a Congregational Minister,
farmer and sometimes county Judge, so that the family moved around a lot,
mostly in Nebraska. Dad completed his high school years at Bellwood
Nebraska, where he played basketball. He attended one year of high
school at Caldwell, Idaho, where his parents retired. He attended Wayne
College in Nebraska for a while. He was the youngest of eight children
and spoiled by all with a lot of attention and affection. His two oldest
brothers served in the Army during World War I. The oldest, Robert was
killed in France and the other brother, Durell, received permanent
injuries from gas.
Dad was considered to be very charming and a strong bond existed with all
the family. It is quite apparent from the letters they wrote about him
and the few stories that have been told about him, that he was the kind
of man they all admired greatly.
He played semi-pro baseball in the Midwest during the 1930's and since
work was hard to get, he worked with the Civilian Conservation Corps. He
also worked with a surveying crew and the Bureau of Reclamations at
Caldwell, Idaho.
In 1937, he joined the Idaho National Guard 116th Calvary Unit. When the
war began, he was called into active duty. He attended the Officer
Candidate School in Fort Benning, Georgia. After graduating in 1942, he
went to training camps at different locations around the country, one of
which was Fort Lewis, Washington.
While at Fort Lewis, he met my mother, Zelpha Galloway Hawkins, who was
living in Seattle with her five-year-old son, Ed. As Dad said in a
letter to his sisters, they "fell for each other pretty hard." They
were married in the Chapel at Fort Lawton, Seattle. Much of their
remaining days together were carried on through the mail, and while some
of those letters survived, most of them "disappeared." Of course much of
their correspondence was about me and my brother. Before I was born, all
they could talk about was how excited they were about having a little
"girl." They didn't even have a boy's name picked out so they had to
scramble to find one. Dad did get to be at the hospital at the time of
my birth on March 27, 1944, but he was not allowed to hold me, even after
he tried to bribe one of the nurses. He did write to his sister about
how "proud" he was of his family.
Soon thereafter, he was sent to the Pacific where the invasion of the
Philippines was being planned. After the initial landing on Leyete,
Philippine Islands, on November, 13, 1944, he was sent on a mission in
the foot hills west of Guinarona to determine the location and strength
of enemy positions. The patrol had to cover ground thick with tall grass
and bamboo thickets. Approaching a high ridge, they were suddenly hit by
deadly machine gun and mortar fire at close range. The enemy was
strongly entrenched and well concealed by the thick brush. Realizing
that he was greatly out numbered and his position extremely perilous, he
started withdrawing his men to safety. To do this, he had to expose
himself to enemy fire. Hit by sniper fire, he died almost instantly.
The men he had so bravely given his life for brought him back to our
lines. His captain wrote that "David had won the admiration of officers
and the respect and affection of his men by his sincerity, his courage,
and cheerfulness." Another comrade wrote that "his loss to the Co. was a
great blow, as the men liked and admired him so much. He was well liked
and thought of by his fellow officers too."
My mother remarried in 1946 to another "Vet." While I bonded with him as
my "Dad", and he adopted my brother and myself, I was allowed the freedom
to get to know the memory of my fallen father. My step-father once told
me many years later that my Father was the one true love of my mother's
life. I had a good relationship with most of his siblings, who lived
nearby. It has taken 55 years to come to a point of healing that I have
today and realize how much I missed knowing a great man. I can now be so
thankful for his life and all the blessings I have received because of
him. He is my hero.
-- Baird (Barry) Otis Barr --
