Reprinted with permission from The Storm Lake Times Pilot and author. Third story in a series.

When September transitions into October, autumn finally stakes her claim on the Buena Vista University campus. The air turns crisp, the leaves start to fall, the days become shorter and the nights grow long. Football rules the weekends and studying consumes the weekdays. 

Fall on the Buena Vista College campus was not so different when Harry Chaim, Bruce Heflin, and Don Jones were students. At first these three men didn’t know one another, in fact, they weren’t even students at the same time. But, for seven consecutive falls, at least one of them was always on campus: Harry from 1935-1936, Bruce from 1937-1939, and Don from 1939-1942. 

The Halfback, the Thespian, and the Baritone

During the first two of the seven falls—in the midst of the Great Depression—it was Harry Chaim who wandered the halls of Old Main and stood under the bright lights of the football field. Harry was a studious and attentive student, but his true passion was football. His talent on the field easily matched his talent in school. “The way Harry Chaim, Beaver halfback, was tossing those passes Saturday, he could have hit a mule between the eyes at 50 yards,” the Buena Vista County Herald reported in October 1935. Beyond just football, Harry ran track for BVC and charmed faculty and students alike with his gentle curls and impish smile.  

It is likely that it was the Depression that brought about Harry’s final fall on campus. Harry left BVC to work in Des Moines before completing his degree. He joined the US Navy in September 1938 and began his career as a sailor. 

Harry didn’t return to campus in the fall of 1937, but bright-eyed freshman Bruce “Pete” Heflin did. Bruce, from Fonda, found his passion under a different set of lights: stage lights. In his time at BVC, Bruce became well acquainted with the BVC theater department, taking part in plays and participating in activities with the Delta Phi Rho Fraternity. His light brown hair and bright blue eyes made him a natural star and his good humor kept his friends laughing just as hard as his audiences. Like Harry, Bruce left BVC before completing his degree, moving to Texas to live with his brothers and work at an auto supply company in 1939.

Though 1939 was Bruce’s last year on campus, it was young Don Jones’ first. Don, originally from Le Claire, spent most of his time just a few doors down from Bruce’s theater department singing with the BVC choir. He appeared in the paper frequently, usually accompanied by the title of a song. His gentle, boyish looks, accompanied by his smooth baritone voice, made him popular on campus and endeared him to fellow students. By the time Don graduated in 1942, the world was at war—and so were Harry and Bruce.  

From Autumn’s Light into the Fight

Harry was originally stationed at a submarine base at Pearl Harbor, but was transferred to the USS Liscome Bay after the Japanese attack. He served as a Carpenter’s Mate First Class, and, after marrying his sweetheart, Frieda, was sent to the Pacific. Harry and the Liscome Bay played a vital role in the invasions of Makin and Tarawa in 1943.  

Meanwhile, Bruce was in an entirely different theater of operations, learning to fly P-61 Black Widow aircraft after his enlistment in 1941. He flew his first missions with the 425th Night Fighter Squadron after the Normandy Invasions in June 1944. 

Though Harry and Bruce were further along in their military careers, Don wasn’t to be left out. He enlisted after his graduation and became a radio code instructor in Sioux Falls where he met his wife, Elvira. He was sent overseas in 1945 where he served as a radio operator with the US Air Transport Command.  

For seven long falls, at least one of these men was on the BVC campus. 

Within three falls, they were all gone.  

Three Falls

In the early morning hours of November 24, 1943, two Japanese torpedoes struck the USS Liscome Bay off the Gilbert Islands. The torpedoes ripped through the ship’s magazine, causing an explosion so large that debris fell on the crew of the USS New Mexico some 1,500 yards away. Those who survived the explosion raced to save the ship but, within just twenty-three minutes, the USS Liscome Bay was gone, taking 644 of her crew down with her. Sometime between the terrific explosions and the black waves swallowing the Liscome Bay and dragging her down, Harry Chaim breathed his last. The only thing the Navy could offer his wife were condolences and his name carved in the granite Wall of the Missing at the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific. He was just 27 years old. 

Eleven months later on October 27, 1944, in the deep blackness of the night, Bruce Heflin’s aircraft smashed into the ground outside Prosnes, France. Blackout restrictions and a cloudy sky left Bruce unable to see the airfield runway so, when he attempted to land, his wing clipped the edge of the runway and crashed, killing everyone on board. He was just feet from safety and just two days from his 26th birthday. Like Harry, Bruce would never again feel the chill of an Iowa fall. He was buried in the Epinal American Cemetery in Epinal, France. 

A year and one month later, Don, too, found his plane locked in a dizzying descent to earth. On November 28, 1945, Don was a radio operator aboard a C-47 transport plane carrying cargo to Malaya. Sometime after take off, Don’s plane disappeared. Germany and Japan had both surrendered, but the war had not yet finished taking from BVC. On November 28, 1946, Don was declared Killed in Action. The plane wreckage was first discovered in 1966 in Malaysia, though recovery efforts in dense jungle did not begin until 2012. In 2015, the pilot’s remains were identified, but the others, including Don, remain lost. Another name on the wall, this time at the Manila American Cemetery in the Philippines. He was just 24 years old. 

And, just like that, the lives that began in the crisp fall air of their first semester at BVC ended in three Western Union telegrams. 

BVU Remembers 

Across seven collective falls Harry, Bruce, and Don were on Buena Vista campus. Across three falls, they gave their last full measure of devotion. Across four falls, Buena Vista mourned. 

But that is not the end of their story. Harry, Bruce, and Don share one more thing than their college and fate: they share their return. For, this fall, they are finally being given the return that they were denied in life.  

With this article, we return their names to their college paper and their beloved faces to their hometown news. We return their memories to campus, where they are free to flit between the changing leaves and the last golden embers of summer that collapse and give way to fall. 

On the BVU Campus, the wind is brisk and the nights are cold. The sky blazes red and orange at sunset and reflects the color of the trees. Laughter echoes louder as the foliage begins to thin and the stadium lights illuminate the field. 

In these things, we remember them. 

In these things, we say: “welcome home.”