Walter Lee Bell, age 92 of Sparta, NC died Thursday, January 3, 2013 at Margate Health and Rehabilitation Center in Jefferson, NC. He was born in Alleghany County to the late Noah Hardin and Myrtle McCoin Bell. In addition to his parents he was also preceded in death by his wife, Nell Goodman Bell; four brothers, Ernest, Conwright, Hurley and Dean Bell; one sister, Hazel Combs. He is survived by two daughters, Judy Billings of Sparta, Susie Strate and husband Chris of West Point, UT; four granddaughters; several great-grandchildren; three sisters, Darlene Herron of Rankin, TX, Jean Combs of Aberdeen, MD, Georgia Higgins of Sparta; one brother, Roy Bell and wife Claudette of Sparta; several nieces and nephews also survive. Funeral services will be conducted 2:00 p.m. Sunday, January 6, 2013 at First Baptist Church in Sparta with Rev. John McCray officiating. Burial will follow in the Sparta Cemetery with full military rites conducted by the Bruce Wayne Osborne VFW Post #7034. The family will receive friends beginning at 12:00 noon until time of the service at the church. In lieu of flowers memorials may be made to the Bruce Wayne Osborne VFW Post #7034, PO Box 1838, Sparta, NC 28675 or to the First Baptist Church, PO 668, Sparta, NC 28675. Grandview Memorial Funeral Home of Sparta is serving the Bell family.
WWII POW survivor cites compassion, not anger
Originally published: Sep. 28, 2011
Ashe Mt Times
by Jesse Campbell
Like the Pacific islands where Walter Bell endured more than three years of harsh and brutal treatment from his Japanese captors, bitterness is still a foreign term.
“It's just not in my heart,” Bell says as he places his left hand on his chest from his bed in Jefferson last week.
Bell, who grew up a short distance down the road in Alleghany County, spent almost all of America's stint in World War II in primitive prisoner of war camps scattered throughout the Philippines and a Japanese island before finally being liberated in October 1945.
He survived on meager rations of rice and what he remembers as “seaweed soup” and staved off malaria, diarrhea and starvation in inhumane conditions.
Bell also endured the ravages of the infamous Bataan Death March, the forcible transfer of thousands of Americans and Filipino POWs by the Japanese army along a grueling gauntlet of physical abuse and deprivation.
Bell was not the same man after his time as a prisoner. Prior to enlisting, Bell recalls weighing at about 140 pounds. He had shriveled up to a mere 90 pounds by the war's end, a shell of his former self.
“Exactly 1,253 days,” Bell will tell you. “That's how long I was a POW. I've even almost got it down to the exact minute.”
At the time Bell joined the army in 1939, he had no idea a war was brewing in Europe and throughout much of Asia. He was looking for a job, money in his pocket and a new opportunity.
In his Appalachia community, those options were scarce.
After completing his basic training in New York, Bell was transferred to Ft. McKinley in the Philippines, which were under American control at that time, to receive additional instruction in chemical and gas agents.
“We were trained in all types of poisons and gases,” Bell said.
He was still oblivious to the danger looming over the Pacific shoreline, an area he still refers to as “a beautiful country.”
Following the surprise attack by Japanese forces at the U.S. naval station in Pearl Harbor, the Imperial army soon launched an attack on American and Filipino forces.
Bell, along with his brothers in arms, surrendered in mass to the Japanese in April 1942. He would not know freedom for another three years.
It would take years of bloodshed and island hopping by U.S. forces throughout the Pacific before the yoke of Japanese control was finally lifted from the shoulders of the now malnourished POWs.
The war finally ended in a flicker of bright light and an unimaginable force with the dropping of two atomic bombs by the United States on two unsuspecting Japanese cities.
“That probably saved our lives,” said Bell. “I couldn't have held out for much longer.”
Bell, now 91 years old, still shies away if asked details about his time as a POW.
“We don't talk about that,” he is quick to quip. “But I have no quarrel with the Japanese. I have no hate for them. They are a highly disciplined people.” He has no animosity toward the Japanese and has developed a high regard for Asian culture.
“I think the Japanese language is simply a beautiful language,” Bell said.
He can still roll off a few sentences in Japanese with ease.
More than six decades have passed since his time as a prisoner of war and he is still absent of any animosity to his captors.
“I'm 91 years old,” said Bell. “It's time to get over it and move on.”
And that he has.
Bell re-enlisted in the army before switching services branches to Air Force, where he remained until his retirement in 1966. And he still remembers the exact date of that milestone, too.
After service, Bell worked as a park ranger, high school ROTC teacher and his last gig, as a magistrate for his hometown of Sparta.
But through all the different hats he was worn over the years, none have left as profound a mark as his time serving for his country.
Even after being exposed to what he believes to be unspeakable horrors, when asked if he would do it all over again, he said yes."
WWII POW survivor cites compassion, not anger
Originally published: Sep. 28, 2011
Ashe Mt Times
by Jesse Campbell
Like the Pacific islands where Walter Bell endured more than three years of harsh and brutal treatment from his Japanese captors, bitterness is still a foreign term.
“It's just not in my heart,” Bell says as he places his left hand on his chest from his bed in Jefferson last week.
Bell, who grew up a short distance down the road in Alleghany County, spent almost all of America's stint in World War II in primitive prisoner of war camps scattered throughout the Philippines and a Japanese island before finally being liberated in October 1945.
He survived on meager rations of rice and what he remembers as “seaweed soup” and staved off malaria, diarrhea and starvation in inhumane conditions.
Bell also endured the ravages of the infamous Bataan Death March, the forcible transfer of thousands of Americans and Filipino POWs by the Japanese army along a grueling gauntlet of physical abuse and deprivation.
Bell was not the same man after his time as a prisoner. Prior to enlisting, Bell recalls weighing at about 140 pounds. He had shriveled up to a mere 90 pounds by the war's end, a shell of his former self.
“Exactly 1,253 days,” Bell will tell you. “That's how long I was a POW. I've even almost got it down to the exact minute.”
At the time Bell joined the army in 1939, he had no idea a war was brewing in Europe and throughout much of Asia. He was looking for a job, money in his pocket and a new opportunity.
In his Appalachia community, those options were scarce.
After completing his basic training in New York, Bell was transferred to Ft. McKinley in the Philippines, which were under American control at that time, to receive additional instruction in chemical and gas agents.
“We were trained in all types of poisons and gases,” Bell said.
He was still oblivious to the danger looming over the Pacific shoreline, an area he still refers to as “a beautiful country.”
Following the surprise attack by Japanese forces at the U.S. naval station in Pearl Harbor, the Imperial army soon launched an attack on American and Filipino forces.
Bell, along with his brothers in arms, surrendered in mass to the Japanese in April 1942. He would not know freedom for another three years.
It would take years of bloodshed and island hopping by U.S. forces throughout the Pacific before the yoke of Japanese control was finally lifted from the shoulders of the now malnourished POWs.
The war finally ended in a flicker of bright light and an unimaginable force with the dropping of two atomic bombs by the United States on two unsuspecting Japanese cities.
“That probably saved our lives,” said Bell. “I couldn't have held out for much longer.”
Bell, now 91 years old, still shies away if asked details about his time as a POW.
“We don't talk about that,” he is quick to quip. “But I have no quarrel with the Japanese. I have no hate for them. They are a highly disciplined people.” He has no animosity toward the Japanese and has developed a high regard for Asian culture.
“I think the Japanese language is simply a beautiful language,” Bell said.
He can still roll off a few sentences in Japanese with ease.
More than six decades have passed since his time as a prisoner of war and he is still absent of any animosity to his captors.
“I'm 91 years old,” said Bell. “It's time to get over it and move on.”
And that he has.
Bell re-enlisted in the army before switching services branches to Air Force, where he remained until his retirement in 1966. And he still remembers the exact date of that milestone, too.
After service, Bell worked as a park ranger, high school ROTC teacher and his last gig, as a magistrate for his hometown of Sparta.
But through all the different hats he was worn over the years, none have left as profound a mark as his time serving for his country.
Even after being exposed to what he believes to be unspeakable horrors, when asked if he would do it all over again, he said yes."
Walter Lee Bell, age 92 of Sparta, NC died Thursday, January 3, 2013 at Margate Health and Rehabilitation Center in Jefferson, NC. He was born in Alleghany County to the late Noah Hardin and Myrtle McCoin Bell. In addition to his parents he was also preceded in death by his wife, Nell Goodman Bell; four brothers, Ernest, Conwright, Hurley and Dean Bell; one sister, Hazel Combs. He is survived by two daughters, Judy Billings of Sparta, Susie Strate and husband Chris of West Point, UT; four granddaughters; several great-grandchildren; three sisters, Darlene Herron of Rankin, TX, Jean Combs of Aberdeen, MD, Georgia Higgins of Sparta; one brother, Roy Bell and wife Claudette of Sparta; several nieces and nephews also survive. Funeral services will be conducted 2:00 p.m. Sunday, January 6, 2013 at First Baptist Church in Sparta with Rev. John McCray officiating. Burial will follow in the Sparta Cemetery with full military rites conducted by the Bruce Wayne Osborne VFW Post #7034. The family will receive friends beginning at 12:00 noon until time of the service at the church. In lieu of flowers memorials may be made to the Bruce Wayne Osborne VFW Post #7034, PO Box 1838, Sparta, NC 28675 or to the First Baptist Church, PO 668, Sparta, NC 28675. Grandview Memorial Funeral Home of Sparta is serving the Bell family.
WWII POW survivor cites compassion, not anger
Originally published: Sep. 28, 2011
Ashe Mt Times
by Jesse Campbell
Like the Pacific islands where Walter Bell endured more than three years of harsh and brutal treatment from his Japanese captors, bitterness is still a foreign term.
“It's just not in my heart,” Bell says as he places his left hand on his chest from his bed in Jefferson last week.
Bell, who grew up a short distance down the road in Alleghany County, spent almost all of America's stint in World War II in primitive prisoner of war camps scattered throughout the Philippines and a Japanese island before finally being liberated in October 1945.
He survived on meager rations of rice and what he remembers as “seaweed soup” and staved off malaria, diarrhea and starvation in inhumane conditions.
Bell also endured the ravages of the infamous Bataan Death March, the forcible transfer of thousands of Americans and Filipino POWs by the Japanese army along a grueling gauntlet of physical abuse and deprivation.
Bell was not the same man after his time as a prisoner. Prior to enlisting, Bell recalls weighing at about 140 pounds. He had shriveled up to a mere 90 pounds by the war's end, a shell of his former self.
“Exactly 1,253 days,” Bell will tell you. “That's how long I was a POW. I've even almost got it down to the exact minute.”
At the time Bell joined the army in 1939, he had no idea a war was brewing in Europe and throughout much of Asia. He was looking for a job, money in his pocket and a new opportunity.
In his Appalachia community, those options were scarce.
After completing his basic training in New York, Bell was transferred to Ft. McKinley in the Philippines, which were under American control at that time, to receive additional instruction in chemical and gas agents.
“We were trained in all types of poisons and gases,” Bell said.
He was still oblivious to the danger looming over the Pacific shoreline, an area he still refers to as “a beautiful country.”
Following the surprise attack by Japanese forces at the U.S. naval station in Pearl Harbor, the Imperial army soon launched an attack on American and Filipino forces.
Bell, along with his brothers in arms, surrendered in mass to the Japanese in April 1942. He would not know freedom for another three years.
It would take years of bloodshed and island hopping by U.S. forces throughout the Pacific before the yoke of Japanese control was finally lifted from the shoulders of the now malnourished POWs.
The war finally ended in a flicker of bright light and an unimaginable force with the dropping of two atomic bombs by the United States on two unsuspecting Japanese cities.
“That probably saved our lives,” said Bell. “I couldn't have held out for much longer.”
Bell, now 91 years old, still shies away if asked details about his time as a POW.
“We don't talk about that,” he is quick to quip. “But I have no quarrel with the Japanese. I have no hate for them. They are a highly disciplined people.” He has no animosity toward the Japanese and has developed a high regard for Asian culture.
“I think the Japanese language is simply a beautiful language,” Bell said.
He can still roll off a few sentences in Japanese with ease.
More than six decades have passed since his time as a prisoner of war and he is still absent of any animosity to his captors.
“I'm 91 years old,” said Bell. “It's time to get over it and move on.”
And that he has.
Bell re-enlisted in the army before switching services branches to Air Force, where he remained until his retirement in 1966. And he still remembers the exact date of that milestone, too.
After service, Bell worked as a park ranger, high school ROTC teacher and his last gig, as a magistrate for his hometown of Sparta.
But through all the different hats he was worn over the years, none have left as profound a mark as his time serving for his country.
Even after being exposed to what he believes to be unspeakable horrors, when asked if he would do it all over again, he said yes."
WWII POW survivor cites compassion, not anger
Originally published: Sep. 28, 2011
Ashe Mt Times
by Jesse Campbell
Like the Pacific islands where Walter Bell endured more than three years of harsh and brutal treatment from his Japanese captors, bitterness is still a foreign term.
“It's just not in my heart,” Bell says as he places his left hand on his chest from his bed in Jefferson last week.
Bell, who grew up a short distance down the road in Alleghany County, spent almost all of America's stint in World War II in primitive prisoner of war camps scattered throughout the Philippines and a Japanese island before finally being liberated in October 1945.
He survived on meager rations of rice and what he remembers as “seaweed soup” and staved off malaria, diarrhea and starvation in inhumane conditions.
Bell also endured the ravages of the infamous Bataan Death March, the forcible transfer of thousands of Americans and Filipino POWs by the Japanese army along a grueling gauntlet of physical abuse and deprivation.
Bell was not the same man after his time as a prisoner. Prior to enlisting, Bell recalls weighing at about 140 pounds. He had shriveled up to a mere 90 pounds by the war's end, a shell of his former self.
“Exactly 1,253 days,” Bell will tell you. “That's how long I was a POW. I've even almost got it down to the exact minute.”
At the time Bell joined the army in 1939, he had no idea a war was brewing in Europe and throughout much of Asia. He was looking for a job, money in his pocket and a new opportunity.
In his Appalachia community, those options were scarce.
After completing his basic training in New York, Bell was transferred to Ft. McKinley in the Philippines, which were under American control at that time, to receive additional instruction in chemical and gas agents.
“We were trained in all types of poisons and gases,” Bell said.
He was still oblivious to the danger looming over the Pacific shoreline, an area he still refers to as “a beautiful country.”
Following the surprise attack by Japanese forces at the U.S. naval station in Pearl Harbor, the Imperial army soon launched an attack on American and Filipino forces.
Bell, along with his brothers in arms, surrendered in mass to the Japanese in April 1942. He would not know freedom for another three years.
It would take years of bloodshed and island hopping by U.S. forces throughout the Pacific before the yoke of Japanese control was finally lifted from the shoulders of the now malnourished POWs.
The war finally ended in a flicker of bright light and an unimaginable force with the dropping of two atomic bombs by the United States on two unsuspecting Japanese cities.
“That probably saved our lives,” said Bell. “I couldn't have held out for much longer.”
Bell, now 91 years old, still shies away if asked details about his time as a POW.
“We don't talk about that,” he is quick to quip. “But I have no quarrel with the Japanese. I have no hate for them. They are a highly disciplined people.” He has no animosity toward the Japanese and has developed a high regard for Asian culture.
“I think the Japanese language is simply a beautiful language,” Bell said.
He can still roll off a few sentences in Japanese with ease.
More than six decades have passed since his time as a prisoner of war and he is still absent of any animosity to his captors.
“I'm 91 years old,” said Bell. “It's time to get over it and move on.”
And that he has.
Bell re-enlisted in the army before switching services branches to Air Force, where he remained until his retirement in 1966. And he still remembers the exact date of that milestone, too.
After service, Bell worked as a park ranger, high school ROTC teacher and his last gig, as a magistrate for his hometown of Sparta.
But through all the different hats he was worn over the years, none have left as profound a mark as his time serving for his country.
Even after being exposed to what he believes to be unspeakable horrors, when asked if he would do it all over again, he said yes."
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