Memorial

More information

Pfc Louis P. Dunigan enlisted in Toledo, Ohio on 16 november 1942.

He is remembered at the McPherson Cemetery in Clyde, Sandusky County, Ohio

His niece Sandy Martin (daughter of William Dunigan, Jr) wrote a book based upon conversations with her father late in his life. She wrote the book in his "voice", as if he had written it himself. The following are some excerpts from that book that pertain to PFC "Zeke" Dunigan:
Family Members
My mother was Julia. Mom was an old-school Catholic with lots of love for us and she worked hard to care for her fairly large family. We lived in a nice white frame house on a farm at the edge of Clyde. The story was told to me that I was born on the kitchen table. This is an incident I retold to anyone that would listen during my adult life. The rest of the family was Mike, my older brother, Peter, my younger brother, Helen, my only sister, and Zeke, another younger brother and the person I most loved in my life.

Other than mom, the most important family member in my life was my brother, Zeke. Even though we had very different personalities, Zeke was etched into my heart as though he were born a part of me. His easy-going ways and love of peace were balm to my fiery spirit. I knew life was about struggle, he knew life was meant for loving. No matter what my mood, Zeke had a way of lifting my spirits and calming me. I can't even describe how much I loved him. Zeke died way too young in World War II. He volunteered to become a paratrooper and before leaving to go overseas relayed to Maxine (my wife) he knew which battle he would die in. He also told her he didn't have it in him to kill the enemy, he would just rather shake their hand. I don't think he got that opportunity. My mother was told he was shot in the neck and died while parachuting from his plane. When I learned of his death I could only think "No, not Zeke, he was too good a person...why not me instead?" It was like a piece of me died too and I never got over the grief of losing him. For decades I didn't talk about my grief as it was just too painful, however, when I got into my 80's and thought about not having him, I couldn't control my tears. Guess having kept them in all those years they had to come out sometime.

In our early 20's feelings of wanderlust hit Zeke and me. Mom's head was downcast and her eyes sad when we told her we wanted to experience the world. But how could she stop two strapping young fellows who had adventure in their mind? I quit high school to work full time on the farm and during the Great Depression of the 30's there just wasn't enough work in our area. We had to work like men on the farm and now the farm had become too small for our dreams. We had to make enough money to support the family.

In our venture of traveling around the country, there was one household I remember in particular. The family consisted of black people. I fortunately hadn't been taught to look down on black people as a lot of others did and I'm glad about that. You know, it never occurred to many to think about the fact there was only one black family in the whole town of Clyde. I didn't realize it when I was young, but Clyde was a very bigoted community. When Zeke and I were traveling we often relied on whoever would be kind to us. In the area we were in, a kind hearted black man told us we could come home with him. His wife fed us and then they insisted we take their children's bed. We didn't feel right about that and told them we just couldn't. But the mom and dad instructed their children to sleep on the floor so the strangers could have a bed. The dad was so insistent we couldn't change his mind. It was hard for us to feel comfortable that night as we felt so guilty about those kids on the hard floor.
Being worldly at an early age helped us find work. When we got off the train, we knew we might be pretty ripe and look like the bums who traveled with us. So, before we tried to get hired we went to a public restroom and cleaned up. The jobs were numerous...picking oranges in Florida and pecans in Georgia. I don't remember what state we were in, but somehow Zeke and I got separated. I was so scared to be without him...not knowing if he was safe. I never felt that scared again, even when I went to fight in WW II. A few weeks later my world came back together again when Zeke showed up. What a relief! We hopped the next train and were off to work our way around the country again. We lived that way for almost a year, then decided to go back to Clyde and find more permanent work.

The most terrible thing about the war was Zeke's death. He never mentioned it to me but he told Maxine right before he went overseas he knew he would not come back. He had told her what battle he would be killed in and he was right. Being a paratrooper was extremely dangerous.. A part of my heart died with Zeke. I never got over loosing him. I held it inside as the raw pain was just too great to deal with. Then during the last couple years of my life I could not control weeping openly whenever I thought about how much I missed him all those years. He was the kindest, most loyal person I would ever know and it hurt more than I could ever describe to have him taken from me. Maybe that is why I never answered any questions about the violence associated with the war. I just couldn't handle being reminded of the pain.