Navy Submarine veteran, 103, is
living history
Since 12-23-06

Don't miss the videotaped
interview--several minutes long. On the right hand side of the page, below the
4th photo of him, you'll see Related Links. Click on that to open the video
interview.
Video: WWI era veteran recalls his Navy memories
http://www.montgomeryadvertiser.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20061220/VIDEO/61219016/1001
By Lisa Horn
Montgomery Advertiser
December 20, 2006
http://www.montgomeryadvertiser.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20061220/NEWS/612200348/1001
WWI era veteran recalls his Navy memories
FLORENCE -- More than 30 miles from home, a recruiting poster tacked to a pole
in Florence caught the eye of a 16-year-old runaway.
Now almost 90 years later, Floyd Matthews has returned to the town where his
Navy career began. His move from Florida earlier this year makes him Alabama's
oldest World War I-era veteran and Alabama's oldest veteran, according to
Veterans Affairs officials.
He is living history. But Matthews, who produced a book of memoirs at 94,
doesn't see himself that way.
"I've never been a 'living history' before, so I don't know what it would be
like," said Matthews, whose 103 years haven't faded his sense of humor.
Alabama's last World War I veteran was Charley Newton Cook of Scottsboro, who
died Dec. 20, 2005, at age 107. The last World War I veteran from the tri-county
area was Henry Abram of Millbrook, who passed away just two weeks before Cook.
Their deaths and the passing of three World War I veterans in the past month
have left the total number of World War I veterans nationwide at a meager 10.
Will Everett, who produced a program on World War I vets for National Public
Radio earlier this year, and Richard Rubin, a freelance writer who is working on
a book, "The Last Doughboys," have interviewed both World War I and World War
I-era veterans from around the country.
More than half of the 36 veterans who were alive when Rubin began his research
in 2003, have since died, he said.
"These are among the most remarkable people that I have ever met," he said.
"It's sad because you get attached, but that's how it is."
Because Matthews joined the Navy in May 1919 -- six months after the armistice
officially ended the war -- he is considered a World War I-era veteran, said
Chris Scheer, spokesman for the Department of Veterans' Affairs.
"There is no real definition of a World War I-era veteran," Scheer said. "It's a
semantic thing, I guess. The era would simply mean that benefits were extended
to veterans who served beyond that period."
Leaving the farm behind
When Floyd Matthews left Loretto, Tenn., in 1919, he went in search of an
opportunity greater than life on a farm could offer. Following miles of railroad
and sleeping alongside the tracks, he and a like-minded friend made it to
Florence.
Tired and hungry, the two tried to find jobs in Florence. Matthews' uncle, a
local shopkeeper, was doubtful that the two boys would have any luck. A Navy
recruiting poster provided the answer.
The sign, which promised, "'Join the Navy and see the world,' pulled me in the
Navy," Matthews said. "At that time, I think it was a wise choice because I
didn't have that much opportunity to make a success of myself."
Matthews' mother died when he was 4 and the family soon fell on hard times.
Later, Matthews' father sent him and some of his siblings to live with other
families. He attended school only on days the weather was bad.
"His younger brother went to one family and he went to another family," said
Matthews' son, Bill, who lives in Florence. "He was farmed out and there's not a
lot of future in that."
Matthews approached the Navy recruiter who was tacking up the poster. There was
just one problem.
"At 16, he couldn't enlist without a parent's signature," Bill Matthews recalls.
"And there was no way he would get his dad's signature, so he said he was 19."
The fib that got Matthews in the service 87 years ago still stands. Born on Feb.
3, 1903, his military identification card and last driver's license still state
that he was born three years earlier.
'Anchors Aweigh'
Just weeks before the Peace Treaty of Versailles was signed on June 28, 1919,
Matthews was on his way to boot camp at Naval Training Station, Gulfport, Miss.
Originally enlisting for four years, his career spanned three decades and
involved submarine escape experiments, the command of his own ship, a
world-record tow and atomic bomb testing in the Pacific Ocean.
Though his memory has clouded in recent months, Matthews said he will never
forget the first time he saw the ocean.
"It was an amazing sight," Matthews recalled. "I had no idea what a horizon
meant. You get out there and look over the ocean, there's a horizon out there
somewhere. But on land, you don't experience that."
Once he got his sea legs on a cruiser and battleship, Matthews had enough of the
surface and volunteered for a different kind of duty in 1923.
His graduation from submarine school later that year would enter him into a
brotherhood of fellow submariners. Today, he is thought to be the second-oldest
submariner in the U.S., Rubin said.
His time as a submariner would also involve him in landmark submarine escape
experiments under the direction of Lt. Cmdr. Charles "Swede" Momsen, inventor of
the Momsen lung, an underwater breathing device used in rescue operations.
Another Momsen invention, the "diving bell," saved the crew of the USS Squalus
in May 1939, when their sub sank in 240 feet of water off Portsmouth, N.H.
Matthews supported the rescue effort using the watertight chamber to bring
trapped sailors to the surface.
Later in his career, Matthews served in World War II on the USS Diver where he
and his crew patrolled and removed stranded vessels from the D-Day landing
beaches.
In 1946, Matthews witnessed some of the first atomic bomb tests in the Pacific
Ocean. Known as Operation Crossroads, Matthews' ship, the USS Chickasaw, served
as a security vessel for the operation that paved the way for the end of the
second world war.
Living history
Matthews' room at Regency Villa in Florence is decorated in a nautical theme,
complete with a "Welcome Aboard" life ring that hangs above his bed. He still
eats a hearty breakfast every morning. His harmonica, which he still plays, is
never far away.
"It's just amazing that he's still a walker and a talker," said George Boyle, a
friend of Matthews and fellow submariner. "And he still likes his beer."
Matthews' sons, Bill, 69, and John, 65, a Montgomery resident, said their father
is constant inspiration.
"I learned my attitude from him," Bill Matthews said. "He says, 'Do the best
with what you have.'"
Without the long hours his father and mother, Nora, put in to help him recover
from polio, John Matthews wouldn't be able to walk today, he said.
"He's just been a great role model," he said. "He's honest and (has) just a
great strength in character."
Floyd Matthews credits clean living and "staying out of dark alleys" as what has
gotten him through the years since he ran away that night in 1919.
"Set yourself a routine and follow it," he said. "That's the best thing I think
a person can do is find what's right for themselves and set a goal to do it."