The Bronze Star Medal has been a long time coming for Jay resident Clinton B. Blaisdell.

No matter though, says the 81-year-old, his palm cupping the five-pointed star and his worn fingers stroking the thick, red ribbon with two lines of white and a band of blue.

He is just glad it’s finally here.

“This to me is my pride and joy,” he says, the gleam of the shiny bronze reflected in his eye. “I think to have it is very lucky.”

Born in 1921, Blaisdell walked out the door with diploma in hand from Wilton Academy in 1942 and walked directly into the U.S. Army infantry.

Fighting through the worst

For nearly four years, he fought “through the worst of it,” dodging bullets fired from the Japanese in the southern Philippines, Luzon and New Guinea.

One bullet had his name on it.

After coming across a “Japanese machine gun nest,” Blaisdell dropped into the brush, found a grenade in his pack, ripped out the pin and held it for a moment.

When he reached up to toss the grenade, he was struck by a bullet in the right arm just above his elbow. The bullet tore through the muscle and shot out through his triceps. “It felt like someone hit me with a sledge hammer,” Blaisdell admits, rubbing the scar on his arm.

Despite the injury, he returned to combat after his wound healed. Later, his brother, Royal, was killed in Italy. Although Blaisdell had the option to end his service, he chose to stay.

“It was pretty close to the end so I figured I’d just stay and battle it out.”

Honorably discharged in November 1945 as a private first class, he returned home, married Barbara, who died in 1974 of cancer, had a son, Scott, and began working for the University of Maine at Farmington as a custodian and volunteering for the Farmington Fire Department.

Content in retirement

Now 81, Blaisdell is content to enjoy the retired life, chatting with his neighbors on Knapp Street, attending American Legion Post 28 meetings, taking care of his sister Jackie, who is in a nursing home in Canton, and relaxing and reminiscing with his best friend, Calvin Hobert.

Two years ago, despite the defibrillator that bulges out from under the skin just above his heart, he took up golf and meets every other day with his band of buddies, which includes Herbie Austin, Bud Cook and Hobert, to hit the links.

“Sometimes we start out keeping score and then we just say the heck with it and just play golf,” he says, laughing.

The secret to his longevity and good cheer is taking it one year at a time.

He also refrains from drinking, and quit smoking after his 1983 heart attack. “If you smoke, quit,” he heeds. “If you don’t smoke, don’t start.”

Over the years, he has collected a slew of medals, from the Purple Heart to the Good Conduct Medal. They hang in a wooden display case on the wall of his living room, feet away from a bamboo-framed Japanese flag, riddled with shrapnel holes. A fellow solider pulled the flag from the belt loops of a dead Japanese solider and traded it with Blaisdell for a knife.

A little while back, Blaisdell got encouragement from some friends at the legion, including Les Gatchell, to go after the Bronze Star. For months, he worked with Gatchell’s help through Sen. Olympia Snowe’s office petitioning for the star, which is awarded to those who, while serving with the armed forces of the U.S. in a combat theater, distinguish themselves by heroism, outstanding achievement or by meritorious service.

In early May, it arrived.

Although Blaisdell is humble about his military service, he admits the new addition to his collection is fitting.

“I earned it. I got it,” he says.

sdepoy@sunjournal.com