Meet Morris Henry Wilson, a Michigan boy who enlisted in the Navy at the age of 15 — he told them he was older — and went missing on a submarine that never finished its maiden voyage in the fall of 1943.

Morris was one of my mother’s older brothers. It was a big, troubled, poor family in rural Michigan, a good situation to get away from if you got the chance. He took the chance. My mom never spoke much about Morris, nor did I ever ask her siblings about him. So I can’t tell you anything about his life before enlisting. In honor of Memorial Day, I’ll share what I know about the very brief remainder of his life. Which is pretty much entirely from official records.

By World War II standards, his death was random and inconsequential. He didn’t die in an act of heroism, unless you think the idea of a 15-year-old going to war is pretty damn heroic. I wouldn’t disagree. He died far from any active theater. The cause of his sub’s sinking has never been fully established; the most likely cause was friendly fire. Or it may have hit a German mine near Panama. Either way, the sub was never found and all 77 aboard were presumed dead.

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