U.S. NAVY 

Keith Miller

With countless other World War II vets, Keith Miller of Bar Harbor was content to move forward in life after the war and leave the past undisturbed.

He succeeded for a very long time. And though a mere five bucks unraveled that resolve, you need to know the whole story.

Miller, who is now 80, was born and raised in Monogahela, Pa. It’s coal-mining country. The boys who didn’t descend into the mines worked in the steel mills. Miller probably would have followed one of those career paths were it not for the outbreak of war and his own feeling that “I had to do something.”

He graduated from Monogahela High School and joined the Navy. The year was 1943. After training and temporary assignments, in August 1944 he joined the crew of the destroyer Uhlmann and steamed into the Pacific campaign.

The Uhlmann supported the Allied beachhead on Leyte in the Philippines in October 1944. Radioman Miller went ashore with an officer to help the ship’s gunners with their marksmanship. As shells from the ship landed, they radioed back the locations of the hits to direct them closer to Japanese artillery and machine gun bunkers.

Miller avoided the bullets flying all around but he neglected to dodge the mosquito that had his name on it. He came down with malaria.

For treatment, he was transferred to the destroyer tender Dixie. On recovering his health, he learned that the Uhlmann had sailed into new action, so Miller became a member of the Dixie’s radio unit. He made a pal while serving aboard the Dixie, a fellow radio jockey named Bill McGrath.

When the war ended, on Aug. 16, 1945, Miller was still assigned to the Dixie. His crewmates whooped, danced, thanked God and wept at word the war was over. Miller took it all in, realized that he was probably going to live and — in less time than it takes to tell it — he quit smoking. Even back then, he said, there was evidence cigarettes and longevity were at odds.

The Dixie was assigned to sail up the Whangpoo River to Shanghai.

“As we went up the Whangpoo, the Japanese were coming down. I recall the Japanese of at least one ship were standing at attention as we passed but the crew was standing with their backs to us. I am assuming that they felt they had lost face,” he said.

Miller and his buddy Bill McGrath had a good time in Shanghai. And at one point, when McGrath was short on funds, Miller loaned him $5.

Miller was honorably discharged in April 1946 and he went right back to Monogahela. But he didn’t enter a mine or a mill. Like most of the other lads in his graduating class, he went to college on the GI Bill.

He earned his degree, did some graduate work, taught junior high and, while enjoying a summer’s work as a seasonal ranger at Mount Rainier National Park, joined the national Park Service.

His career took him and his young wife, Carolyn, all over the country with a long stop in Bar Harbor where Miller served as superintendent of Acadia National Park from 1971 to 1978.

Keith and Carolyn retired to Bar Harbor in 1988, content to enjoy their two children and grandchildren. Then, late last year, a letter arrived from a chap whose name was vaguely familiar. Bill McGrath. In the letter was a check for $50.

McGrath had tracked down most of the radiomen with whom he had served, but had lost Keith Miller. It took him 60 years to find him and, by gosh, he had a debt to pay. McGrath figured the $5 he’d borrowed in Shanghai had, what with interest and inflation, grown to $50.

Miller gave the $50 to his grandson for his college fund. Then he and McGrath got together in July in Bar Harbor to look at old photo albums and talk about their days at sea. Memories are made of this.

—Stephen Fay