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In a 1987 letter from former Private First Class Floyd "Stew" Stewart, gunner and second in command of "This Is It!", commanded by my Uncle;

". . .We were about to cross the Moselle River.  We were in a woods near the river bank, waiting for orders to move out, when we were shelled either by mortar or small artillery fire.  One of the rounds struck the tank on the turret, right in front of the periscope I used to fire the big gun.  Frank was standing in back of me in the Tank Commander position.  He had one half of the hatch open for a better view.  When the shell exploded, it came across the top of the turret and caught Frank's head on the right side.  He fell down on top of my back.  When I saw what happened, we got him a medic right away.  Half of his face was gone.  His eye, ear and half his nose was down to the bone.  It was sickening as you might imagine.

Moselle River

Luckily, we had a medic within minutes of being hit.  We kept getting progress reports that he was holding his own.  But after 7 days, we heard the bad news.  We were hoping with surgery, Frank could be saved.  From what I've heard from several men I know who worked in the section that took care of the dead bodies, the body you received was that of Frank.  The only ones not identified were the ones listed 'Missing in Action'."

In a 1986 letter, former Sergeant Fred Riley speaks of the 7th of September;

". . .in the meantime, I was wounded and sent to the aid station; Sgt. Hibbs was also wounded.  Frank, Hibbs and I were loaded into an ambulance and sent to the 101st Evac. Hospital, which is quite like a M.A.S.H. unit of today's Army.  I don't believe Frank ever regained consciousness."

Back in Independence, Missouri, a very strange thing occurred. It was in the wee hours of morning, still dark and Frank Lee Ream Sr. was asleep.  All of a sudden, he awoke with a start.  Standing at the foot of his bed was "Junior", or his apparition.  S/Sgt. Frank Lee "Pappy" Ream, Jr. was wearing his full dress uniform of which he was more proud than anything he owned.  Disbelieving his own eyes, my Grandfather said, "Son?"  Frank's visage said, "I just wanted to let you know that I'm all right now.'' 

Grandpa said, "Sit down, son, let's talk."  Frank replied, "I've got to go now, Dad."  Frank's visage stepped to the door and he placed his hand on the doorknob, as if to open it, and turned to my Grandfather and said, "I love you, Dad."  He stepped through the door and disappeared.  Grandpa woke everyone in the house up and told them what he had just experienced and that Frank was dead. Naturally, everyone told Grandpa that it had all been just a bad dream and not to pay any mind to it.  Grandpa insisted that Frank was dead.