A different Sullivan family story: seven siblings serving, all returning safely

Wallingford, CT

The youngest of the 14 Sullivan children, Robert J. Sullivan and his twin, Vincent Sullivan, were the final two out of seven siblings to serve their country in the Armed Forces during wartime.

Unlike the other, famous Sullivan brothers, the five who all served and died aboard the same ship during World War II, all seven of these Sullivans returned home safely.

His older siblings Mary, George, Charles, Edward, and Thomas all enlisted in WWII. Mary was a nurse who served in the Navy. She was at the Battle of the Bulge, Robert said, and she received the Purple Heart because she was hit by shrapnel. She survived. George made a career of the Navy. Charles was in Army intelligence, stationed in Russia; he spoke several languages. Edward and Thomas also served in the Navy.

Their father died in a car crash in 1941, when Robert and Vincent were only 11. Their mother, Bridgette Littleton Sullivan, who emigrated from Ireland, raised them with lots of “common sense,” Robert said.

He remembers the small flag the State Department sent her, with its five stars, which she hung in the window of their living room. Down the street, workers from the factory that produced toy train sets could see it. Robert said she was proud of her children’s service.

However, it was difficult for her, too. Even the coincidence of having five Sullivan children in the war was taxing.

“One time Paramount Theater in New Haven, when the five Sullivans were killed in the ship that went down, they asked my mother if they would present herself at the theater to say that she had five children (in the war) and it was a coincidence her name was Sullivan. She was very upset about it. She wouldn’t do it,” Robert said. “She said, ‘No, why would I display my family in circumstances like that?’”

And, in 1951, her two youngest sons, the ones she joked she could never tell apart, were drafted into the Army.

“When it was time for my brother and I and we got drafted, ... she said, why did (we) have to go, we already had five in the service,” Robert said. “She didn’t want us to go. But we went. ...

“From what I understood, they couldn’t separate us unless we wanted to be apart. ... It was up to my mother. She asked if we wanted to stay together. We said yes,” he said.

When they approached land in Korea, the outfit climbed down a rope ladder from their ship onto a barge.

“A guy said, ‘Hey, Sully, if you want your brother to stay with you, you better get behind me because they mark your helmet’ — they mark it with chalk at night and they’d mark it 1, 2, 1, 2 — 1 would go to the left, 2 would go to the right,” Robert said.

Because of this tip, they remained together.

“My commanding officer — he was very superstitious. He said, ‘I don’t want brothers in my outfit, let alone twins,’” Robert said.

That commanding officer changed their MOSs — despite their training with Caterpillar out in California to operate heavy-duty trucks and bulldozers — to mail and commissary, respectively.

“We were very fortunate there,” Robert said.

As someone working commissary, didn’t have to cover guard duty, he said, though occasionally he would relieve Vincent of this job.

“They didn’t know who the hell was who ... as long as you knew the command word,” Robert said. He recalled getting an “eerie feeling” while guarding the motor pool from the “binging” sound of the 55-gallon drums as they expanded and contracted in the dark.

After their service, he and Vincent returned to California. They considered finding jobs there and staying put.

“Then we thought, ‘Maybe we should go on home and see Mom. If we don’t see mom, it wouldn’t be right,’” he said. “So we decided to go home, and we never went back to California. We stayed in Connecticut.”

There, they met their wives and “had a good life,” Robert says. Robert and his wife celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary this October. He and Vincent never lived more than 10 miles apart. Vincent passed away in 2014.

As the last living sibling of the 14 brothers and sisters, Robert said “it’s tough.” Every night he says each of their names: first all the sisters, then all the brothers.

“When I’m going to bed, when I go to lie down. I say, ... ‘Keep an eye on me. Make sure I’m doing the right thing.’ And I get by with that, like I’m saying a prayer — saying their names. It helps out.”

« Previous story
Next story »