On Jan. 15, 1945, a squadron led by Army Staff Sgt. John Mace engaged in a firefight in Grand Hallieux, Belgium, during the Battle of the Bulge in World War II.

One of the men fighting beside him, Harry Kent, was killed. He was one of 89,500 American casualties over the 39-day battle, the bloodiest of the entire war for U.S. forces.

Just three days before paying the ultimate sacrifice, Kent — who’d married a beautician back home in Bloomington, Indiana — received word via telegram that he had become a father.

Kent never had a chance to reply but, of course, was ecstatic. After the war, Mace returned to his family farm in Brazil, Indiana. He was always heartsick that his comrade’s loved ones couldn’t know for certain whether the message reached the front lines in time.

Seven decades later, Mace is at peace. 

With help from his ex-daughter-in-law, Martha Alexander, who remains a close family friend, and a library in Bloomington, Indiana, he tracked down the family of Harry Kent. On Monday afternoon, he came face-to-face with Gary Kent — the man whose birth brought such joy in the middle of battle.

“I’d figured he’d look more like his dad than he does,” Mace joked.

The story of how they met is a combination of a family’s wish to accomplish what they saw as a soldier’s final mission and some old-fashioned research, right down to the white pages.

Mace, 92, now resides at Sycamore Manor in Terre Haute, Indiana. Relatives drive him a little over a half hour to his home church in neighboring Clay County for Sunday worship and to after-church family dinners.

Alexander, who is divorced from Mace’s eldest son, took him to dinner a few weeks ago. He began telling her about the telegram, the firefight, his friend’s death and the years spent wishing he’d kept in touch.

Not only did Mace want Kent’s family to know that news of the newborn child had arrived, but that Kent didn’t suffer.

The next day Alexander, a student services assistant at Indiana State University, began searching the Internet hoping to learn more about Kent’s family.

She then called Christine Eykholt Friesel, located over an hour away at the library in Bloomington, Indiana. The first step in researching such requests, Friesel said, is consulting the obituary database, which usually reveals family information.

Harry Kent’s obituary mentioned a son. Mace had never learned the baby’s gender, but felt all along that it must have been a girl. Friesel was discouraged, but Alexander called Mace to double check.

Alexander told him they’d found the baby.

“And he said, ‘How did you do that?’” she recalled.

It helped that the younger Kent is a retired administrator at Indiana University and had an online profile.

“And Gary had not abandoned his landline and was still listed in the old-fashioned phone book,” Friesel told the Terre Haute, Indiana Tribune Star.

She put Mace’s family in touch with Kent, who received a phone call.

“It was just absolutely amazing,” Kent said.

Kent knew his father’s story. He had seen pictures of the field where he died. He’d read his name on walls of honor at the courthouses in Bloomington and nearby Nashville, Indiana.

His mother, Esther Ruth, never remarried. She owned and operated a beauty salon in Bloomington and died from complications of Alzheimer’s disease a few years ago. Her obituary indicates the family knew Harry by his middle name, Clifford.

The obituary includes the sentence: “She celebrated her second anniversary with Clifford, January 10, 1945, gave birth to her only child January 12, 1945, celebrated her 21st birthday January 14, 1945, and became a widow January 15, 1945, when Clifford was killed in battle in Grand Hallieux, Belgium.”

Gary Kent agreed to come to American Legion Post No. 18 in Bloomington Monday afternoon.

Mace and his family were waiting there.

The men sat at a table covered with maps of Europe furnished by Friesel, as Mace’s Army uniform hung on a door. Mace wore a “Combat Infantry” ball cap.

A nearby table was filled with mementos from Mace and the elder Kent’s military service, including the telegram informing Esther of her husband’s death.

As a tape recorder captured the conversation, Kent listened to Mace’s stories from the war, including his emotional memories of praying throughout the entire firefight.

“Do you ever think of writing some of this down?” Kent asked.

“Oh, not really,” Mace replied, to laughter from his audience.

When they finished talking about the war and a television cameraman thanked them, Mace glanced at his wristwatch. It was about 3:30, an hour and a half after the meeting was scheduled to begin.

“It’s just an hour to suppertime,” Mace joked, drawing more laughter.

Kent presented Mace with a framed photograph of his father. And there are many other mementos documenting the elder Kent’s military service that he wants to mail to Mace in Terre Haute.

“This guy has not forgotten my father for 71 years,” he said after the two finished sharing stories. “So whatever I can do to reinforce that relationship, I’ve got to do.”

Hedrick writes for the Terre Haute, Indiana Tribune Star.