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One of the few: A 102-Year-Old World War II Veteran Reflects on Service

An elderly man in a World War II veteran hat sits in a hospital bed.
Fred W. Wilson, a 102-year-old World War II Veteran from West Palm Beach, Florida, reflects on his Army service.

By Nick Hodge

At 102 years old, Fred W. Wilson carries the kind of history few people alive today can still share firsthand. As a World War II Veteran, Wilson reflects on his military service with humility, humor and remarkable clarity.

Wilson enlisted in the Army Air Forces on July 23, 1941, when he was just 17 years old. For him, the decision marked the beginning of a journey that would carry him far from home and into one of the most consequential periods in American history. Months before the United States formally entered World War II, he left West Palm Beach for Camp Blanding with other young men for processing and examinations, beginning his path through multiple training locations as the military rapidly expanded and prepared for war.

Early in his service, Wilson trained in combat engineering. 

“We built bridges, brought up railroad tracks, changed tracks, and all that kind of stuff,” Wilson said. “That’s what they trained us to do.” 

He learned how to destroy bridges, repair railroad tracks and work with explosives, skills that reflected the Army’s urgent need to keep forces moving under the demanding wartime conditions.   

After the attack on Pearl Harbor, Wilson transitioned into training as a truck driver, a role that would define much of his contribution overseas.

Wilson served with the 2019th Quartermaster Truck Company in support of Ninth Air Force Aviation. His job was to help move critical supplies, especially gasoline, to wherever they were needed. 

“We supplied whatever they needed, everything,” he said.

It was not always glamorous work, and it was not on the front line, but it was essential. Like so many wartime logistics units, Wilson’s company helped sustain the operations that made combat possible. Fuel, food and equipment had to reach advancing forces without delay, and that meant long hours, constant movement, and unrelenting pressure.

“You don’t know it yet,” Wilson said. “All you're doing is working. You're a soldier."

Wilson shipped overseas from Camp Kilmer, New Jersey, to Liverpool, England, after a 12-day voyage. There he spent months in England supporting the vast buildup ahead of the Allied invasion of Europe. At the time, he said, many of the men did not fully realize they were helping prepare for D-Day.

His work included maintaining supply lines, moving fuel and waterproofing trucks for the crossing into France. What felt like routine preparation became part of one of the most important military operations in history.

After the invasion, Wilson followed the advance of Allied forces across Europe, helping move food, fuel and supplies behind Gen. George Patton’s push across the continent. His recollections reflect the intensity of wartime transportation work and the critical role convoy operations played in sustaining momentum.

As he reflected on his service, Wilson also spoke about the realities of serving as a Black service member in a segregated military. He did not dwell on the subject, but he acknowledged that it was not an easy time to serve. His memories carried both pride in what he contributed, and an awareness of the barriers Black troops faced while serving a country that had not yet afforded them equal treatment.

When asked what he took away from military service, Wilson offered a steady and measured response. There was not much to enjoy about war, he said, but he understood the value of service and sacrifice. For younger Veterans, Wilson emphasized the importance of using their own judgment and pursuing their own path, especially when it comes to education and opportunity.

Now more than a century into life, Wilson has witnessed extraordinary change, from war and segregation to modern America and evolving care for Veterans. Speaking about his own VA care today, he said he is treated well and he sees that as meaningful progress.

Wilson’s story is more than a personal memory. It is a living link to World War II, to the endurance of Black service members and to a generation whose quiet courage helped shape the future for those who followed.