My Grandfather's Closet: WWII Memorabilia

My grandfather, Carmine Joseph Tomolillo, was one of my heroes. He served in the United States Navy during World War II as a Coxswain, and later spent many years as a Captain in the Medford, Massachusetts Police Department. He has been gone for a while now, but his memory is something I want to keep alive. He was proud of his service, and rightfully so.

While going through his closet, I found a small collection of WWII memorabilia: framed plaques from his Navy service, a photograph from the deck of a warship, and a folded Japanese good luck flag. I still have his medals too, and I will share those in time. For now, these are the pieces that tell the first part of the story.

Issued in Boston just months after the war ended, this certificate is the formal close of his Navy service. A Testimonial of Fidelity and Obedience, in the language of the time.

Task Force 31 was on hand for one of the most symbolic moments of the war: the surrender of the Japanese Navy and the capture of the battleship Nagato in Tokyo Bay. The plaque is signed by a Brigadier General of the United States Marine Corps, the Commanding Officer, and a Rear Admiral of the United States Navy. To think a 20-something kid from Massachusetts had a front-row seat to the end of a world war still stops me in my tracks.

I do not know which ship this was taken from, or exactly when. What I do know is that he kept it close, framed, on a wall, then in a closet, for the rest of his life. Some images do not need a caption to mean something.

Tucked beside the plaques was a folded Japanese flag from World War II, worn, creased, and covered in handwriting I cannot read. It appears to be a Yosegaki Hinomaru, often called a Japanese good luck flag. During the war, Japanese soldiers carried national flags signed by family, friends, and neighbors, with prayers for protection, bravery, and a safe return home.

There is also a related tradition known as senninbari, a thousand-stitch cloth, sewn by many women and given to soldiers as a protective charm. I do not know whether this flag was carried into battle, taken from a surrender site, recovered from the Pacific, or kept for some other reason. Like many veterans, my grandfather did not leave a tidy explanation. War rarely does tidy.

If the writing includes names, unit information, hometowns, or prayers, it may be possible to learn more about who originally owned it. That would change this from a family artifact into a bridge between two families separated by history. Some returned flags have given Japanese families a form of closure decades after the war.

My grandfather came home from the Pacific, traded his Navy blues for a Medford Police uniform, and spent decades serving his city, eventually as Captain. He raised a family, kept these artifacts safe, and never made a big show of any of it. That quiet sense of duty is what I remember most.

History sometimes hides in closets. A discharge certificate, a plaque, a photograph from the deck, and a folded flag, all waiting to be heard.