VETERAN FINALLY GETS HIS DRESS BLUES
Resident helps fellow Marine realize his longtime wish
Harry Gunther was just 17 years old growing up in Chicago when he saw United States Marine dress blues for the first time when, while sitting outside with friends, a Marine walked past.
“I said, ‘Boy, I’d look good in that,’” Gunther recalled more than 80 years later at his daughter’s house in west Loveland.
But after 2.5 years of service, where he fought in several key battles in the Pacific theater — earning two Purple Hearts — Gunther never got the dress blues he pined for as a teenager. Now, the nearly 100-yearold veteran has his own set thanks to the work of veteran Brian Ivers and his wife.
Gunther and the war in the Pacific
Gunther was born in Chicago in 1925 and, as an 18-year-old, joined the Marines to fight in the Pacific theater during WWII in 1943.
Over his time in the service, Gunther found himself fighting in four battles, including the infamous Battle of Iwo Jima.
Gunther told the Reporter-herald that God was with him as he repeatedly walked away from incidents that could have proven fatal. This includes taking shrapnel to his shoulder while in a Japanese trench and having a bullet fly just underneath his chin.
“I turned around and said to the guy (behind me), ‘they’re trying to kill me,’” he said, adding the man leading the team got hit “right in the fanny.”
“I had close calls I would say almost every other day,” he later added.
But Gunther’s time fighting in the Pacific came to an end when a piece of shrapnel shot into his foot, and he was taken off the island and out of combat. When he left the Marines in 1945, Gunther had received several honors for his service, including two Purple Hearts.
Gunther relayed his life’s story in an interview with Brad Hoopes, who has worked for years to preserve the stories of Northern Colorado veterans, several months ago; it is posted to the Remember and Honor Youtube page.
After his time in the Marines Gunther returned to Chicago, where he entered what
would become a decadeslong career in the printing industry.
“I took one week off and then went right to work,” he said.
Outside of work, he kept active, playing sports and swimming and meeting his wife, Lorraine, on a trip to a ranch in Colorado. After 69 years of marriage, Gunther said, “We’re still trying to find out what we’re like.”
Ivers’ quest for the dress blues
While Gunther answered the call of duty during WWII, he walked away without the dress blues that had enticed him in the first place.
Ivers, who served in the Marines from 1989 to 2016 with four years of active duty, said Marines have to buy the dress blues they can be seen wearing. He said aside from that, he imagined there were less of the uniforms during Gunther’s time due to the sheer number of Marines in service.
“Even if he wanted them, I wasn’t sure he would have gotten them,” Ivers said.
Making sure that Gunther got his dress blues became Ivers’ mission.
After being approached by Hoopes, Ivers learned Gunther’s story. Not only did they both serve in the Marines, they even served in the same regiment. Ivers and his wife, Heather, got to work getting together dress blues made specifically for Gunther. This meant not only getting the right size, but making sure that Ivers got the right medals to attach to the uniform so it matched what Gunther had done in service. This, Ivers said, took a great deal of research into what would have been put on the blues had Gunther gotten them right out of the service.
“I didn’t want him to have something he didn’t have on paper,” he said.
But the work paid off, with Ivers able to give Gunther
his very own dress blues right before Veterans Day, which he was able to wear to the Loveland Veterans Day parade.
Ivers described Gunther as more than just a veteran but a legend. He said when he told his children — two of whom serve in the Marines and another in the National Guard — about Gunther and his story, they were just as eager to meet him and hear about what he did. He said they talk about the Marines and what they did in WWII often to keep hold of the stories and the legacy they left behind.
“You’re looking at a legend,” he said as he sat opposite Gunther earlier this week. “He represents a generation that is almost gone, and that is still something we are touching.”
Gunther, as he sat in a chair at his daughter’s house, said what Ivers did for him means a lot
“I never expected it. I never thought I would have a uniform to get buried in,” he said, breaking into a smile and a happy chuckle.