The Korean War, a ’47 Gibson Guitar and Three Friends
Raymond H. “Bud” Nunley purchased his Gibson guitar in 1947 in a small music shop near Washington and Tremont Streets in Boston for a sum of $80—rather costly even then for a 19-year-old enlisted sailor a long way from his Tennessee home. For the next two-and-a-half years, his guitar companion accompanied him to South and Central America, the Mediterranean and Northern Europe on a peacetime tour of duty on board the U.S.S. Houston and the U.S.S. Fargo, entertaining others during “happy hour” or merely for personal pleasure.
In 1949, Nunley was released from the Navy only to find no employment in his home state of Tennessee and attempts to procure work in Detroit, Michigan failed as well. Deciding that re-enlistment in the Navy meant more on-board ship confinement, and believing the United States was now in a settled military position (post-World War II), Nunley narrowed his choices. He opted for service in the 82nd Airborne Division, U.S. Army since paratrooper pay meant an extra $50 per month and more money to send home to aid his widowed mother and younger siblings.
On 22 June 1950, though, with the invasion of South Korea by North Korea, Nunley’s peacetime hitch in the Army was about to change. In August of 1950, he was put on board a train bound for Camp Stoneman at San Francisco—his port of embarkation for Korea. While on the train, he and Ed Heimrich, his seat partner and fellow member of H Company, 187th Army Regimental Combat team (ARCT), began carving on the face of the guitar, with a single-edge razor blade, the names of the many countries where the Gibson traveled. As Nunley often said, the carving started partly out of boredom, but also as a tribute to the guitar that likely might never return to the States with him after the war—considering the treacherous months looming in his immediate future.
For three days and nights Nunley and Heimrich took turns carving on the guitar: Greece, France, England, Italy, Belgium, Egypt, Scotland, Norway, Germany, Sweden, Portugal, Holland, Turkey, South Africa, Spain, Cuba, Denmark, Guatemala, Sardinia, Switzerland, Puerto Rico, Panama. . . . Only later would the place names Tokyo, Japan, Korea, Kimpo, Seoul, Yong Dong-Po, Sunchon, Pyongyang, and Chinnampo be cut in the remaining vacant area beneath where the fret board connects to the sound hole.
In order to enter Korea from Japan, the Gibson almost parachuted into Kimpo Airbase as an ammunition bundle when Nunley received permission from his company commander to attach it to his legs while parachuting into Kimpo to assist in the famous Inchon Landing. Fortunately for the guitar, the jump for the 187th ARCT was delayed due to foul weather. While Nunley, a machine-gunner, was fighting on the front line, the guitar was left in the care of cooks and clerks. Often it was strapped to the front of a jeep and moved from place-to-place, wrapped only in bundles of army blankets for protection. During lulls in the fighting, Nunley became acquainted with two other soldiers who shared his love of music and although the two men were from other companies, they united as often as possible to sing and play the Gibson.
n his memoirs, Nunley wrote: “Sgt. Carl Fitzgerald of Staunton, Virginia took a liking to the Gibson as soon as he saw it. We became good friends immediately. He gave renditions of several good country songs sounding much like the late Tex Ritter. By this time Carl had become rather well known throughout Second Battalion for his singing of The Bad Brahma Bull, Roger Young, the Airborne version of Moving On and many others. Another fine young man, Sergeant First Class Ira Taylor, of Rarden, Ohio and G Company made our acquaintance and often chimed in with our struggles for three-part harmony. Taylor’s favorites were Molly Darling, Swiss Lullaby, Goodnight Irene, and several others. With Fitz and Taylor singing, it was no wonder that my Gibson became so well known.” Nunley often said Ira Taylor had a voice much like Eddy Arnold.
SFC Ira Taylor died on 14 February 1951 at the Battle of Wonju. He was only 22 years old. Nunley was there when Taylor’s frozen body was carried from the battlefield and recalled for many years the heartbreak of this sorrowful event. Nunley and Fitzgerald were both released from active duty in Korea on 11 May 1951 and remained close friends until Nunley’s death in 1997.
For many years after the war, Nunley searched for Ira Taylor’s family but was never able to locate them in Ohio, as he was misinformed about Taylor’s place of residence. Finally in July 2009, Nunley’s daughter, Sandra Bryson, located Ira Taylor’s last surviving sibling through genealogical research. On October 2 of the same year, Sandra and her mother, Lucille Nun- ley, traveled to Scioto County, Ohio to finally meet Bob Taylor and family; visit the gravesite of Ira; and to have Fred Nichols, a member of the Southern Ohio Opry band, play the 62-year-old restored Gibson on the stage of the Southern Ohio Opry. Nichols played and sang Hank Williams’ I Can’t Help It (If I’m Still in Love with You)—a very fitting selection, considering the song’s release date of 1951.
To both Lucille Nunley and Sandra Bryson, the old Gibson guitar’s 450 mile journey from Murfreesboro, Tennessee to Ira Taylor’s home in Scioto County, Ohio was the most poignantly tender trip it has ever traveled. It was a pilgrimage to pay tribute to an old friend—a quest Bud Nunley tried for years to make, but never realized. Their families finally did.