Local family fights for ancestor's Medal of Honor

Aug. 15—San Miguel de Mayumo, Luzon, Philippines; May 13, 1899.

It was the Philippine-American War, and the Americans had spotted an opportunity.

They knew they were going to make the most of it.

This is what they trained for as members of the Young's Scouts, a group of hand-selected soldiers from the U.S. Army's 4th Calvary and the North Dakota Volunteers.

Their goal was to gather intelligence and movements of the enemy, but on that day, the enemy's line was estimated to be around 300 men.

But for 10 of the brave Young's Scouts and their two leaders, a hundred more enemies likely would not have stopped what they were about to do.

In solid unison, the group of 12 charged the enemy's line, which was standing approximately 150 yards away.

(William) "Simon" Harris was one of those men.

"The voices of Young and Private Harrington are hushed in the stillness of the grave, yet at this moment, I can hear them cheerily urging the scouts on to this attack," a captain from the U.S. Army's 3rd Artillery wrote about that day in a letter later sent to officials in Washington, D.C.

Three days later, Harris and a few others from the Young's Scouts encountered the enemy again across a stream approximately two miles south of San Isidro.

All that stood between the Young's Scouts and the enemy was that stream and a burning bridge.

"The road, being barricaded, made this crossing almost impossible," a letter written to Army officials stated at the time, "yet these 23 brave men, when ordered to advance and save the bridge if possible, did so willingly."

The enemy line put up a solid fight, but they eventually retreated, and the Americans were able to extinguish the blaze.

For those battles — San Miguel and Tarbon Bridge near San Isidro — Harris and several other members of the Young's Scouts were recommended for two Medals of Honor by President Theodore Roosevelt in 1906.

The Medal of Honor is one of the highest and rarest accomplishments that can be handed out by the U.S. military.

To date, only around 3,500 individuals have received one.

So to be recommended for two?

That's an even greater feat.

But Harris, who relocated to Kokomo after the war, raised a family and died in 1963, never got to hold one of them in his hands.

And even now, 124 years after Harris helped storm enemy lines in the Philippines, his family is fighting for the medal he deservedly earned.

'An unfortunate mix-up'

It was late 2022 when Michael Eberhardt, a Dallas, Texas-based historian and retired prosecutor for the U.S. Department of Justice, was conducting research as a member of the Medal of Honor Historical Society.

"This is probably one of the most unique things I've come across," he told the Tribune earlier this month via telephone. "And it's sort of a long story."

Eberhardt then explained that from 1862-1918, the Army had a policy put in place not to award Medals of Honor to soldiers killed in action.

But there were 40 who did.

"So the Army wasn't consistent in applying what I now refer to as the 'Kill/No Medal Policy,'" Eberhardt said. "So I just started digging."

That digging eventually led to the Philippine-American War, also known as the Philippine Insurrection.

Eberhardt pointed out that 20 soldiers from that war were recommended for the Medal of Honor, but only about two-thirds of them received it.

"It made me wonder why," he said. "So I came up with a group of 11 soldiers who I realized had not received the Medal of Honor, and I realized that some of them didn't receive it because of the policy. They were killed in action. But then I also found three others who were still alive when the war ended."

Harris was one of them.

"Those three guys were recommended by the Army for a Medal of Honor," Eberhardt explained. "But when the Army sent the notification letters to them, they sent them to the wrong addresses. It was just an unfortunate mix-up."

Eberhardt didn't pinpoint a reason for the address mix-up, adding that it was likely just a "time period issue."

"What happened was Harris enlisted in 1898," he said. "Back then, soldiers would enlist in locations other than their hometowns. The War Department approved the Medal of Honor in 1906, and the notification letter then went out. But the files they were using were eight years old by that time. So the address was just no longer any good."

But Harris did receive a military pension, Eberhardt added, so the military had his correct address at some point.

"The right hand just didn't know what the left hand was aware of, I think," Eberhardt pointed out.

So once Eberhardt made his discovery, it was time to find out who these three men were who had been recommended for a Medal of Honor but never physically received them.

More importantly, it was time to see if they had any living relatives.

In Harris' case, there were plenty.

'A unique situation'

Joe Harris, Simon's great-grandson, can still recall the details of the phone call he had with Eberhardt earlier this year, the historian sharing the news of his discovery with the family.

"It (phone call) was emotional," Joe told the Tribune, wiping tears from his eyes and taking a moment to compose himself. "It was just, it's hard to explain really. It was happiness, but at the same time, it was also sadness. We owe a lot of gratitude to Mike.

"I know about the Medal of Honor and have watched the celebrations and things like that with the presidents," Joe added. "They're amazing people. So just to know I have a relative, a great-grandfather that was in that category and was left out and lived all those years not even knowing, I was ready to go and join the fight in righting a wrong. I have no hard feelings toward anybody. I just want to correct it."

And right now, according to Joe and Eberhardt, Simon's case — which is still pending — seems like it should be pretty cut and dry.

Simon was recommended by the U.S. War Department for a Medal of Honor, and receiving a medal you've already been recommended for should be a certainty, they said.

But that's not always the case, Eberhardt noted.

"Because this is a unique situation that has never happened before in Medal of Honor history, there are no regulations or rules," he said.

Eberhardt added that the Harris family and he has put together a package and documents stating Simon has already officially been recommended for a Medal of Honor, but the process is now in limbo while the Army's Human Resources Command looks through those documents and ultimately comes to a conclusion.

Eberhardt and the Harris family have gotten the offices of Indiana Sens. Todd Young and Mike Braun involved, both of which are taking a keen interest, Joe said.

"Right now, everything looks good," Joe explained, a smile creeping across his face. "But I'm impatient. I asked them, 'Can this thing just take a week?' But I understand that it's a process, and we're not giving up on it."

Because, as Joe added, Simon wouldn't want him to give up.

"I'm sure he'd be thankful," Joe said, when asked what his great-grandfather would say of the family's fight for Simon's Medal of Honor to finally be in their possession. "I hope he's proud. I hope he's rooting for us, for him, to finally get this whole thing done."

Eberhardt agreed.

"I hope that William Simon would not only be happy, but he'd be proud of the fact that somebody ran this down," he said. "Here's a guy that lived until 1963, and he was approved in 1906. The action occurred in 1899. That's 57 years that he lived without any knowledge. Given that there are only 3,500 of these medals ever issued, that's a pretty remarkable thing to be a part of and not even know about.

"I just think that it's part of the important historical perspective that we have on the nation's ability to recognize service and gallantry," he added. "Whether that's in 1862 or 2023, it's part of our history. It's the fabric of the military. It's not a perfect process, but it's one that deserves the right resolution."