Photo of the Day

The Sullivan Brothers on the USS Juneau. Among the losses on Juneau were the five brothers from Iowa, the Sullivans: George, 27; Francis, or “Frank,” 26; Joseph, known as “Red,” 24; Madison, or “Matt,” 23; and Albert, or “Al,” 20. It was—and remains—the single greatest wartime sacrifice of any American family.

“We Stick Together”

The death of the five Sullivan brothers was impossible to imagine. So horrible it forced the U.S. War department to adopt “The Sole Survivor Policy” so it would never happen again. Can anyone even think of the heartache that the Sullivan family suffered? How much sorrow can a family take?

Des Moines “Register”, January 4, 1942:

“Five husky Waterloo brothers who lost a “pal” at Pearl Harbour were accepted as Navy recruits at Des Moines.  All passed their physical exams “with flying colours” and left by train for the Great Lakes (Ill.) naval training station.
“You see,” explained George Sullivan, “a buddy of ours was killed in the Pearl Harbour attack, Bill Ball of Fredericksburg, Iowa.”
“That’s where we want to go now, to Pearl Harbour,” put in Francis, and the others nodded.”

When Joseph, Francis, Albert, Madison, and George Sullivan heard about their friend Bill Ball’s death, they marched into the Naval recruiting office together. They wanted to avenge their friend if they could do it together, they told the recruiter. Their motto had always been, “We Stick Together,” and they intended to stick together. The Sullivan’s hometown paper, The Waterloo Iowa Courier featured a series of stories of about soldiers getting ready to go to war and asked Aletta Sullivan how she felt about all five of her sons going to war together. “I remember I was crying a little,” she said. George Thomas Sullivan summed up the feelings of all of the brothers when he said, “Well I guess our minds are made up, aren’t they fellows? And, when we go in we want to go in together. If the worst comes to the worst, why we’ll all have gone down together.”

The Sullivan family of Waterloo, Iowa, led lives like many other families of the early 1900s. Thomas Sullivan, a first generation American, was a train conductor while his wife, Alleta, was a homemaker. As a large Irish-Catholic family they had six children. Five boys and one daughter. Growing up, the five boys were inseparable, referred to as “The Fighting Sullivans,” and according to a family spokesperson, that was a name that suited these spirited boys. When news of Pearl Harbour was announced via radio the brothers, like many of their countrymen, felt a sense of nationalism and rushed to defend their country.

Born and raised in Waterloo, Iowa; the five Sullivan brothers had always stuck together. From George, the oldest, to Al, the youngest; there was only a 7-year age difference. They had lived together at the plain but large house at 98 Adams Street, along with one sister Genevieve, and their parents Thomas and Alleta and grandma Mae Abel. The longest period of time the boys had ever been separated had been the four years prior to World War II when George and Francis Henry, second oldest of the quintet and usually called “Frank”, had served in the Navy.  Even then, the two brothers had served most of their hitch together, on the same ships.

A U.S. Navy recruiting poster released March 22, 1943, featuring all five brothers. The Sullivans were natives of Waterloo, Iowa. They were: George Thomas Sullivan, 27, Gunner’s Mate Second Class, Francis “Frank” Henry Sullivan, 25, Coxswain, Joseph “Joe” Eugene Sullivan, 23, Seaman Second Class, Madison “Matt” Abel Sullivan, 22, Seaman Second Class, Albert “Al” Leo Sullivan, 19, Seaman Second Class. The Sullivans enlisted on January 3, 1942, with the stipulation that they serve together. The Navy had a policy of separating siblings, but this was not strictly enforced. George and Frank had served in the Navy before but their brothers had not. (National Archives)

George Sullivan was discharged after fulfilling his four-year commitment on May 16, 1941.  Eleven days later Frank received his own discharge and both boys returned to the family home.  Six months later they listened intently to reports of the attack on Pearl Harbour.  Former shipmates and friends still on active duty and serving in the Hawaiian port, not to mention two brothers from nearby Fredericksburg, were under fire and both Sullivan boys felt both a sense of helplessness and anger.  They determined that night to return to service.  This time Joseph Eugene whom they all called “Red”, Madison Abel “Matt”, and even Albert Leo “Al”, insisted on joining them.  Their resolve was further strengthened when, just prior to Christmas, they learned the fate of the Fredericksburg brothers, Bill and Masten Ball.  Masten had survived the day of infamy, but Bill, who had frequented the Sullivan house and perhaps even “been sweet” on sister Genevieve, had gone to a watery grave aboard the U.S.S. Arizona.

The five brothers walked into the local Navy recruiting station together. Though Al, just nineteen years old and married less than two years would have qualified for a deferment from combat service, he insisted on being with his brothers.  He would leave behind not only a young wife but little Jimmy Sullivan, his ten-month-old son. The Navy was desperate for men in the early days after the destruction at Pearl Harbour and quickly welcomed the Sullivan brothers.  Until the determined young men threw a new “wrinkle” into their enlistment plans.  George had echoed the sentiment the night of December 7th when the five young men had made their decision.  “Well, I guess our minds are made up…when we go in, we want to go in together.  If the worst comes to worst, why we’ll all have gone down together.”

Now, as they stood in the recruiting office, they demanded that the Navy assure them that they would be allowed to serve together…on the same ship. When they couldn’t get the guarantee that day, they took their demands all the way to Washington, DC. In a letter to the Navy Department they explained their desire to defend their Country but insisted that if the Navy wanted the Sullivan brothers, it would have to be a package deal. “WE STICK TOGETHER!” Finally, the Navy agreed. The transcripts of all five Sullivan brothers reveal that each was “Enlisted in the U.S. Naval Reserve on 3 January 1942” and together they were “Transferred to the Naval Training Station, Great Lakes, Illinois.” Exactly one month later the individual orders for each of the five sailors read, “Transferred to the receiving ship, New York, for duty in the USS Juneau detail and on board when commissioned.”

Five Irish-American Sullivan brothers, who grew up in Iowa during the days of the Great Depression and served together in the United States Navy during World War II. Their eventual deaths in the Pacific theatre aboard the light cruiser USS Juneau (sunk on November 13, 1942, during the Naval Battle of Guadalcanal).

Following their enlistment in the Navy in January 1942, the Sullivan brothers were in the news right away. They were the largest group from one family serving in the war, making a good story to promote the patriotic duty of military service. In March of 1942, their mother was asked by the Navy to sponsor a new ship as a way to capitalise on the publicity. She readily agreed.

Ten months after joining the Navy, the Sullivans were on board the Juneau during the Battle of Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands. In the early morning hours of 13 November 1942, in the short, but ferocious battle in Iron Bottom Sound near Savo Island, a number of American ships were lost. Just a few minutes into the battle, Juneau was hit by a Japanese torpedo on the port side near the forward fire room. The shock wave from the explosion buckled the deck, shattered the fire control computers, and knocked out power. The cruiser limped away from the battle, down by the bow and struggling to maintain 18 knots. She rejoined the surviving American warships at dawn on 13 November and zig-zagged to the south-east in company with two other cruisers and three destroyers, heading for safe anchorage at Espiritu Santo. About an hour before noon, the task force crossed paths with Japanese submarine I-26. Juneau was again torpedoed port side very near the previous hit. The ensuing magazine explosion blew the light cruiser in half. To observers, Juneau suddenly disappeared in a cloud of smoke and fire, vanishing below the waters as bits of the ship rained down.

A message from USS Helena to a nearby B-17 search plane reported that Juneau was lost at latitude 10 degrees South and longitude 161 degrees East and that survivors were in the water. The sinking location was subsequently modified to 10 degrees South and 161 degrees East. Owing to the risk of another submarine attack and because the sections of Juneau sank in only a few minutes, the American task force did not stay to check for survivors. However, approximately 100 or more of Juneau’s crew did survive the explosion. Unfortunately, Helena‘s message was mishandled and there remained uncertainty about the number of Japanese ships in the area, delaying rescue efforts for several days. Exposure, exhaustion and shark attacks whittled down the survivors and only ten men from the Juneau were found alive in the water or on nearby islands, eight days after the sinking.

Juneau survivors reported that four of the Sullivan brothers died in the initial explosion or right afterwards. The fifth, George Thomas, despite being wounded the night before, made it onto a raft where he survived for five days. He finally succumbed either to wounds and exhaustion or a shark attack.

Only 10 members of her crew survived. Gone were her skipper, Captain Lyman K. Swensen, and the happy-go-lucky Irishmen from Waterloo. George, the oldest, had managed to get off the ship and onto a life raft. “The other boys were below at the time,” a Juneau survivor later told Mr and Mrs Sullivan. “They went down with the ship and did not suffer. It was a sad and pathetic sight to see George looking for his brothers, but all to no avail.”

The Dreaded Telegram…

As was the practice during WW II, news of the sinking of the USS Juneau in the Solomons was withheld from the public until the information could not benefit the Japanese enemy. The Sullivans’ parents, Thomas F. Sullivan and Alleta Sullivan, had no idea what had happened. In January 1943, Mrs Sullivan wrote to the Bureau of Naval Personnel regarding rumours she was hearing that her sons had been killed. Although desperately fearful, she nonetheless expressed confidence in the Navy and her desire to continue as the sponsor of a new ship.

The dreaded telegram from the Navy Department arrived at 98 Adams Street on January 12, 1943, and informed Tom and Alleta Sullivan that their five boys were “missing in action.” Albert’s wife, his 22-month-old son, and Genevieve shared the grief in the modest home where five white stars hung in a front window.

“The Navy Department deeply regrets to inform you that your sons Albert, Francis, George, Joseph, and Madison Sullivan are missing in action in the South Pacific.”

The news wasn’t completely unexpected. Over the last month, there had been hints of something amiss. The lack of mail from boys accustomed to writing home regularly, the neighbour a week earlier who had received a letter from her own sailor son stating “Isn’t it too bad about the Sullivan boys? I heard that their ship was sunk.” and perhaps even the sense of a mother’s intuition had left the family with the reason for concern.

Thomas Sullivan began to deal with the impact of the statement that morning while going about his tasks aboard a trainload of war supplies headed east. It had been a difficult decision, leaving for work, but Tom Sullivan had seldom missed a single day of the important freight runs. If Tom’s trains didn’t run on time, important war supplies might be delayed, and other American boys might die. “Shall I go?” he had asked his wife that morning.

“It’s all right, Tom,” Alleta had replied. “It’s the right thing to do. The boys would want you to…There isn’t anything you can do at home.”

Any hope that Alleta Sullivan clung to for her sons’ eventual return was shattered by a letter from a Juneau survivor, a young Nebraskan who had been a “special friend” of George’s. “I am afraid all hope is gone for your boys,” he wrote. “I don’t know whether a letter of this sort helps you or hurts. But it’s the truth. I saw it.”

The Navy Department called the loss of the five brothers the heaviest blow suffered by a single family since Pearl Harbour, and “probably in American naval history.” It had always been policy to separate family members during wartime, and the Navy stressed for the record that the Sullivans had insisted on staying together—despite repeated objections from the Juneau’s executive officer.

After the  Juneau sank, the crippled group of ships it had trailed hastened on: Japanese subs were still in the area. “It is certain that all on board perished,” an officer on one of the vessels noted. “Nothing could be seen in the water when the smoke lifted.” Within a half hour of the sinking, however, an American B-17 flying overhead spotted men in the sea. There were 100 to 200 sailors—many of them badly injured—clinging to debris from the cruiser: mattresses, life jackets, tarpaulins, and three oval rafts, 10 by 5 feet, with decks of wooden slats and attached ropes to accommodate hangers-on.

The B-17 radioed the commander of the flotilla, Captain Gilbert Hoover of the light cruiser Helena, who continued onward—perhaps misunderstanding; perhaps not wanting to risk more men. The aircraft circled again to drop supplies, yet for several days the navy did nothing to assist the sailors. As time went by, their numbers thinned as the remnants of Juneau’s crew succumbed to their injuries, dehydration, or shark attack—a common cause of death. When South Pacific Area commander Admiral William F. Halsey learned what had happened, he immediately stripped Captain Hoover of his command. By the time the survivors were collected—a week after the sinking, on November 19-20—only 10 men remained.

At least one, maybe two, of the Sullivans survived the initial sinking. Two survivors remembered the death of the eldest Sullivan, George, in particular. He had been aboard one of the small life rafts and, after three or four days, was weak and hallucinating. One night, Gunner’s Mate Second Class Allen Heyn recalled, George declared that he was going to take a bath. He removed his uniform and jumped into the water. A little way from his raft, “a shark came and grabbed him and that was the end of him,” Heyn told a naval interrogator. “I never saw him again.”

The Navy Department kept the brothers on the missing-in-action list until August 6, 1943, when Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox sent the parents a letter officially listing the five as “killed in enemy action.” George, Francis, Joseph, Madison, and Albert were each posthumously awarded the Purple Heart, American defence and European-African-Middle Eastern theatre ribbons, the Victory Medal, and the Asiatic-Pacific theatre ribbon with two battle stars. Their ship had earned five battle stars for her brief but gallant role in the Solomons naval actions.

Mother of Sullivan Brothers Reading Letter From Roosevelt Alleta Sullivan reads a letter from the U.S. Navy. She received two letters from F.D.R. in February of 1943. The first informed her of the death of her five sons in the line of duty, the second sent later requested her presence at the christening of the destroyer U.S.S. Sullivans named in their honour. Date Photographed: January 20, 1943: © Corbis

The big house at 98 Adams Street seemed suddenly very empty. Only the women and 22-month old Jimmy Sullivan, son of the youngest Sullivan brother Albert, remained. The Sullivan women pulled together as the family always had.  “Commander Jones only said ‘missing in action’,” Alleta struggled through her own doubts to reassure her daughters. It was a shallow hope, but it was a hope just the same. If only one survived then perhaps there would be hope for a second, a third…who knew for sure. One thing was certain if hope existed for even one, hope existed for all. The Sullivan Brothers had been close, looking out for each other, enlisting together, and living by the family motto they had echoed to a Naval recruiter only a year earlier: “We Stick Together”

The brothers received the Purple Heart Medal posthumously and were entitled to the American Defense Service Medal, Fleet Clasp; Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal with four engagement stars and the World War II Victory Medal. They had also earned the Good Conduct Medal.

At the time of their deaths, George was 28 years old; Francis, 27; Joseph, 24; Madison, 23; and Albert, 20. They were survived by their parents, a sister, Genevieve Sullivan, and by Albert Leo Sullivan’s wife, Katherine Mary Sullivan. Their son, James Thomas, was twenty-two months old at the time of his father’s death.

Their deaths shook the nation and attracted international support for the parents. President Franklin Roosevelt sent a letter of condolence to Tom and Alleta. Pope Pius XII sent a personal message along with a silver religious medal and rosary. The Iowa Legislature adopted a formal resolution of tribute to the Sullivan brothers.

Letter to the Sullivan parents from US President Franklin Roosevelt, 13 January 1943.

The following letter was sent to Mrs Sullivan by President Roosevelt when he learned that her five sons were listed as missing in action after the USS Juneau was sunk:

“Dear Mrs. Sullivan:

“The knowledge that your five gallant sons are missing in action, against the enemy, inspired me to write you this personal message. I realize full well there is little I can say to assuage your grief.

“As the Commander in Chief of the Army and the Navy, I want you to know that the entire nation shares your sorrow. I offer you the condolence and gratitude of our country. We, who remain to carry on the fight, must maintain the spirit in the knowledge that such sacrifice is not in vain. The Navy Department has informed me of the expressed desire of your sons; George Thomas, Francis Henry, Joseph Eugene, Madison Abel, and Albert Leo, to serve on the same ship. I am sure, that we all take pride in the knowledge that they fought side by side. As one of your sons wrote, `We will make a team together that can’t be beat.’ It is this spirit which in the end must triumph.

“Last March, you, Mrs. Sullivan, were designated to sponsor a ship of the Navy in recognition of your patriotism and that of your sons. I am to understand that you are, now, even more determined to carry on as sponsorer. This evidence of unselfishness and courage serves as a real inspiration for me, as I am sure it will for all Americans. Such acts of fate and fortitude in the face of tragedy convince me of the indomitable spirit and will of our people.

“I send you my deepest sympathy in your hour of trial and pray that in Almighty God you will find a comfort and help that only He can bring.

Very sincerely yours,

“/s/ Franklin D. Roosevelt”

First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt also wrote to Mrs Sullivan:

“You and your husband have given a lesson of great courage to the whole country, and, in thinking of this war and what it means to all mothers of the country, I shall keep the memory of your fortitude always in mind, as I hope other mothers with sons in the service will do.”

In response to the Sullivan tragedy, proposals were made to prohibit brothers from serving together on the same ship, but Congress did not pass any such law, nor did the President issue an Executive Order to that effect. In response to a similar tragedy which occurred at Pearl Harbour (three brothers serving aboard the USS Arizona perished during the attacks) the Navy did issue a policy forbidding commanding officers from approving requests from brothers to serve together, but the policy was apparently not enforced and did not prohibit the Navy from assigning the Sullivan brothers to the same ship. After the Sullivan loss, the policy has been more strictly observed in all the services.

News spread across the country of the enormous sacrifice made by the Sullivans and honours were heaped onto Alleta and her family including posters honouring the brothers’ sacrifice, extensive media coverage and even a 1944 motion picture based on their story.

Alleta became an important figure in the war effort. She volunteered at the United Serviceman’s Organization (USO) to help make life easier for troops stateside and abroad.

The deaths of all five brothers became a rallying point for the war effort, with posters and speeches honouring their sacrifice. Extensive newspaper and radio coverage of the incident made the loss of the brothers a national story, producing “a wave of humility and sympathy…” and condolences poured in on the Sullivan family in Waterloo, Iowa. One woman told the Associated Press, “And now I wonder how the sugar and coffee hoarders feel.” War bond drives and other patriotic campaigns culminated in the 1944 movie, “The Sullivans.”

Their sister Genevieve enlisted in the U.S. Naval Reserve as a Specialist (Recruiter) Third Class.

The Sullivan name was now a household word across the country, a symbol of American sacrifice and resolve in the war against fascism. Wasting no time in prolonged grief because they believed their boys would not have wanted it, Tom and Alleta Sullivan embarked on a morale-boosting tour of more than two hundred defence plants. They celebrated their 29th wedding anniversary on February 5, 1943, at the Philadelphia Navy Yard, urging several thousand workers to build more war tools.

“What I feel is this, “ said Tom Sullivan. “If we had more planes and more ships out there in the Solomons, the cruiser Juneau wouldn’t have been sunk and our boys wouldn’t have been lost.” In New York, his wife told workers, “If I had any other boys, I sure would want them to join the Navy. We’ve got a little grandson. When he gets old enough, I’d like to see him join, too.” Jimmie did serve a hitch in the Navy later.

At the windswept Todd-Erie Basin in Brooklyn, Alleta Sullivan declared, “I speak as a mother who lost five sons, and they went down fighting. They were never afraid. Now we have more sons in action. We must give them everything they need.”

The couple took time out from their tour to attend a solemn Mass in New York’s St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Greeting them, Monsignor Joseph F. Flannelly said, “I have received kings and queens and premiers, but no one has been more welcome here than Mrs Sullivan.” Archbishop Francis J. Spellman presented them with a silver religious medal that had been given to him by Pope Pius XII and a set of rosary beads. “I know of no one else who deserves them more,” he commented. On February 8, in the cathedral’s Lady Chapel, the archbishop celebrated a Mass for the repose of the Sullivan brothers’ souls.

Later that day, Tom and Alleta went to Bridgeport, Conn., to meet Mr and Mrs Thomas F. Rogers, whose sons, Louis and Patrick, had also gone down with the Juneau.

Mrs Sullivan did most of the speaking during the national tour, although she had no oratorical experience. The first time, she confessed, she was “kind of nervous.”

Alleta Sullivan’s public role as a grieving mother helped distract her from the horror of her sons’ deaths and served as a model for stalwart sacrifice on a nationwide speaking tour. (Grout Museum of History & Science, Waterloo, Iowa)

While 16 million Americans joined up, 124 million others did what they could on the home front. With women filling in as riveters, welders and “lumberjills,” US factories churned out 76,487 ships, 296,429 aircraft, 20,086,061 small arms of all kinds and more than 41 billion rounds of ammunition.

The nation gamely endured rationing, from butter (four ounces a week) to shoes (three pairs a year) to gasoline (three gallons per week). Everything had a use: Bacon grease provided glycerine for ammunition; nylon stockings were sewn into gunpowder bags.

Children organised scrap drives and spent their allowances on war stamps. Whether growing victory gardens, wearing victory suits (narrow lapels, no trouser cuffs) or driving victory speed (35 mph), for four years Americans had only one thing on their minds–winning the war.

On February 9, 1943, the Navy Department announced that President Roosevelt had approved the naming of a new destroyer for the five brothers, and their mother was invited to be its sponsor. USS The Sullivans was to be the second Navy ship named for five brothers. The destroyer USS O’Brien launched a few years before, commemorated Captain Jeremiah O’Brien and four of his brothers who sailed a lumber sloop out of Machias, Maine, during the American Revolution and successfully attacked a British sloop-of-war. This was the first naval engagement of the Revolution.

On Sept. 30, 1943, Alleta was present as the ship’s sponsor when the Navy commissioned USS The Sullivans (DD 537). The ship served the Navy until final decommissioning on Jan. 7, 1965. In 1977, the destroyer was donated to the city of Buffalo, N.Y., as a memorial in the Buffalo and Erie County Naval and Servicemen’s Park.

The second ship to be called The Sullivans (DDG 68) was commissioned April 19, 1997, and was sponsored by Kelly Sullivan Loughren, Alleta’s great granddaughter.  The ship’s motto is “We Stick Together.” Today the ship, which returned home from a six-month deployment just in time for the holidays on Dec. 22, 2013, is based at Naval Station Mayport, Fla.

Kelly obviously admires her great-grandmother’s courage and continued service to the nation in the face of the most devastating loss a mother can suffer. But the story that sticks with her the most is that long after the war, after the movie, the media and the ceremonies had faded, Alleta would receive house calls from Sailors that either knew her sons or who just wanted to stop by and extend their condolences. Kelly said her great-grandmother would often cook them a hot meal and offer them a place to stay for the evening or the weekend.

Alleta Sullivan left, mother of the five Sullivan brothers who lost their lives in the sinking of the cruiser USS Juneau, works alongside actress Marlene Dietrich as they serve servicemen in the USO Hollywood Canteen, Calif., Feb. 9, 1944.

As a direct result of the Sullivans’ deaths, the US War Department adopted the Sole Survivor Policy.

Thomas and Alleta Sullivan toured the country raising war bonds and asked that none of their sons died in vain. However, the grief overwhelmed Thomas and he died in 1947 a broken man.

Sister Genevieve served in the WAVES. She was the girlfriend of Bill Ball whose death at Pearl Harbour prompted her brothers to join the Navy to avenge him.

The brothers’ story was filmed as the 1944 movie The Sullivans (later renamed The Fighting Sullivans) and inspired, at least in part; the 1998 film Saving Private Ryan. That movie is also inspired in part by the story of the Niland Brothers, where one of those brothers was sent home under the Sole Survivor Policy.

One of the biggest hits by the band Caroline’s Spine was “Sullivan”, a song about the grief of the mother of the Sullivan brothers.

The brothers’ hometown of Waterloo, Iowa has a convention centre named “The Five Sullivan Brothers Convention Center”, renamed a street, and has a public park in their honour. The park is the location of their childhood home.

Determined to serve together in WWII, the five Sullivan brothers (from Waterloo, Iowa) were onboard the USS Juneau when a Japanese torpedo destroyed the ship in November of 1943. All were lost as a result of that event.

The Sullivans were not the only brother sailors on board the ship. There were at least thirty pairs of brothers including the four Rogers brothers from New Haven, Connecticut. Before the ill-fated Savo Island operation two of the Rogers were transferred to other commands. According to those who survived, had the ship returned to port safely at least two Sullivans would have also transferred.

The Sullivan Brothers have an elementary school in Yokosuka, Japan named in their honour.

Their supreme sacrifice will never be forgotten.


Sullivan brothers – Wikipedia

Alleta Sullivan: A “Navy Mom” Like No Other | Navy Live

1942: Five Sullivan Brothers – Olive-Drab


The Sullivan Brothers, United States Navy – ArlingtonCemetery.Net

The Sullivan Brothers – Home of Heroes

The five Sullivan brothers died together. – WW2 Gravestone

The 5 Sullivan Brothers – All World War II Casualties On The USS …

Widow of 1 of 5 Sullivan Brothers Killed During WWII Dies at Age 93

The Five Sullivan Brothers Stick Together… – History? Because it’s Here!

Sullivan Brothers Iowa Veterans Museum – Grout Museum District

Sullivan Brothers – Heroes of WWII – Awesome Stories

The 5 Sullivan Brothers – All World War II Casualties On The USS …

The Sullivan brothers – Chicago Tribune

Lest We Forget the Five Sullivan Brothers –

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