Soldiers of Today and Yesterday

"Providing Honor,Dignity & Hope to those that have served us "

Story from 'Belindjo' Kates - Korean Veteran

Why I dislike 2nd lieutenants

 

2nd lieutenants"

 

Having been a soldier for many moons, and have gone thru basic training and the like. At a "SPECIAL FORCES TRAING CAMP"

The day had finally come,” WE JUMP.” out of the plane. Of course it was not of a C.130, but of the famous Dacota's, the light came on and we stood in line"STICK"they called it, you was also connected to a line.” STATIC LINE” So you jump out on command, the chute pops open "THANK GOD" and slowly on you went down.

But that is not what I 'm talking about.

 

I went as an volunteer to the Korean war, the Nation that I belong to, did not send "DRAFTEES” to war, so the "BATALION" 800 man

All were volunteers.

 

Arriving in POESAN, we went to a camp, and had to learn the US weaponry’s we went to the shooting range, to practice the all to new weapons to us, I had an M1 Garrand nice weapon and easy to load.

 

When I started shooting, well, the rifle was light a machine gun, and smoking that it did.8 bullets came flying out the barrel, and the clip came flying out the weapon.

 

What happen was, the barrel was still loaded with Cosmo line and why it fired so rapidly, no one know, because they gave me another one.

 

But we had not long to wait, the day was coming and we went into action, we had all new stuff, we marched down the road, after a while

My feet were hurting me, so I took my boots off, and yes I had blisters on both my feet, well I did curse the ones that gave me those boots

Why could I not keep my own boots, so the rest of the way I walked on my socks?

 

Anyway, we went thru some battles, lost a few friends, our first casualties.

 

To make the story short: One day we where at rest, and another unit replace us from our position, that lucky for us, we were not far from A US army outfit. Of course we were snooped around, and lo and behold it was chow time. So my friends and I took the opportunity to stand in line with the yanks. Man was that chow good, Better than the C-RATIONS that we had. I think it was from ww2, but not bad if your hungry.

 

Any way, I was promoted to sergeant and squad leader, I was a corporaal1 when I went to Korea.

 

The battles were hard fought we did have some victories but we were also hammered, by the N.Korean and Chinese.

 

During our rest period I was dealing and wheeling whit a quarter master, give him some of our fames liquor and he gave me a,

Jungle carabine, with all the bullets and banana clips 4 of them.

 

Now here is the part that my platoon officer and me had a disagreement on. Officers carry a .45 caliber pistol and a jungle carbine.

 

One day my squad and another and the platoon 2nd lieutenant, we are going on patrol, but at assembly to instruct us as to what we are going to do, he noticed me carrying the same weapon as he has. He asks me, is that weapon issued to you. I said no. So he replied to get my M1.so I did but kept the other too.

He got upset and start chewing my but out. I told him Luitenant, we are fishing a war here, and you make a big stink about me carrying

A carabine. He said I would see you when we get back. I said to hammock.

 

It was dark that night, no moon, no stars, just pitch dark, we are walking on the dike of a dried out river bank and passed a lone three

It seems like we were walking for hrs, crossing the river many times. Before we went he instructed us about the river bed, we walked first on the right side, and heading back we suppose to be on the left bank.

 

So we started back having seen nothing and no engagement with the enemy, on our way back we were walking still on the right bank.

So I told him we are on the wrong side, he grunted and told me to keep on going.

 

My squad was up front, and the point man stopped, called me and pointed to the lone tree, it was down. I instructed my man, go down in the riverbed, were going to be ambushed called the lieutenant and told him we are getting ambussed. He said how do I know.

So I explained to him about the tree. No sooner had I said that, all hell broke loose, we got fire from every direction. Of course we were lower down, but the bullets we singing above our heads. I fired back, we all did. I saw two people running to another position. In the banana clips that I have every two bullets was a traiser, when I saw those two running I fired in front of them instead of directly at them. Got them both.

 

In the consternation, I don't really how it happen we lost site of the other squad and the luitenant. The fire exchange started to dwindle down and we made our way, ducking and crawling out of the area, still no sight or sound from the other squad.

 

Back at the lines, still kind of dark, the platoon officer was waiting for us, I guess he high tailed out of there darn quick. But we could not because one of my men was hit with shrapnel from a handgranate. So we had to drag him and carry him soon it was safe to do so.

 

So any way we had a talk, he was kind of nasty, pulling rank I guess, when he was finished, I ask him if I could say a word of two.

 

I said to him, "luitenant with due respect of your rank, one thing I like you to know, what I think."

 

"We are in a war, and you completely ignore the advice from this sergeant, that had more combat experience than you do, you might

Have in a classroom setting, but here is the real world, and it is ugly, don’t act like your almighty GOD, it may cost you your life and GOD will not be there to save you.” We have a wounded man, my squad is one short, who will replace him until he comes back from the hospital."

 

He looked at me, and said,” Thank you sergeant. You may go now."

 

I was wounded a couple of times not serious, only ones I spend 3 weeks in a hospital in Tai Gu. Could not see, was hit is my face by shrapnel.

 

The Korean war was Ugly, the winters were hars, especialy on the tjots"mountains, you have to on patrol in blinding snowstorms, can hardly see the man in front of you, cold feet almost frozen, no fire in your foxhole, take turns sleeping if you can at all.

 

But we had some good times too, like going to the yanks kitchen for breakfast, lunch and dinner, wow that was good food compared to our kitchen, and with THANKS-GIVING, a half of a turkey with sweet taters and gravy and what not. I t was to us like going to a restaurant

 

But time for me to bail out, one year Korea was enough, at times in my sleep, I still can hear the LONG-TOM howitzer projectile

Flying overhead. The friendly fire that we at times got from the highflying SHOOTING STARS. That noose dived into our positions, the release of the napalm bomb, that lucky for us landed well behind our lines. The night attacks from the enemy with their brubguns, gives an eerie sound. The last position that we had before going home was in front of "OLD BALDY."

 

Well here is my story, I’m very proud to have served side by side with the brave soldiers of "Of the SECOND DIVISION of the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA" And I "HONOR," those brave man that had fought a loosing war in" VIET-NAM, IRAQ, AfGANISTAN.

 

I SALUTE YOUR ALL DEAR BROTHERS!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Submitted by Shannon Smith

I attend church at St. Stephen's

and I wanted to share my story. 

My Dad was drafted by the US Army in the late 1950's.
He was living in Dalhart, TX at the time.  He was
sworn in the service in Amarillo, TX.  Little did he
know that someday he would have a granddaughter that
would be sworn in the US Army in the SAME building
where he also stood.  Just FIFTY years later!!!!
My Father's name was Deane Allan Line and passed away
December of l995 of cancer.  He was only 60 years old.
And had only been retired 2 years before he died.

I know how proud he would be if he could see his blue
eyed, blonde granddaughter serving our country .

My father went to Basic Training at Fort Bliss, TX
near El Paso, TX.  Then he went on to Camp Gordon, GA
to attend Signal Corps school.  What we now call AIT.
( Advanced Individual Training). 
My daughter's name is Shea Lea Smith who is a memeber
of St. Stephen's church also.  She is a 2003 graduate
of Midland High School.  Shea wanted to join the Army
Reserve.  She was sworn in to service in January 2004.
Her Basic Training was done in Fort Jackson, SC.  Her
AIT training school was in Fort Lee, VA.  Her MOS
(job) was Petroleum Specialist.  She drilled here in
Midland at the Reserve unit located by Midland
International Airport.  They are required to give 2-3
days a month on weekends.  And 2 weeks in the summer.
Well, imagine our suprise when she got her deployment
orders in March of 2005.  Only a year out of Basic
Training.  Her Unit was attached to the 820th Signal
Corps out of Fort Gordon, GA!!!!!  What a suprise!!
All of the soldiers from here had to be re-trained for
a new MOS.  They had to be tested then on to Mesquite,
TX for their medical clearance and security
clearances.
Combat training was done at Fort Gordon, LA in the
heat of the summer.  We got to say goodbye on the
Fourth of July, 2005 in New Orleans, LA.  We had a
great time even if it was only for 4 days of leave.
Her unit left the States in August of 2005.  They
arrived in Kuwait soon after.  So, she is doing the
SAME job my father did FIFTY years ago!!!!!!!
It's so awesome!  Her Grandfather Deane, would be VERY
proud of the soldier she has become.  We have not
seen our youngest child in seven long months.
Specialist Shea Smith will return to Midland for her
14 day R & R in March, 2006.  We will be praying for
her safe return.  It's really amazing how God saw fit
to let my Father help re-build Korea in the l950's.
and now letting my daughter help build up our Camps in
Kuwait with communications.......HOOAH!!!!!  God Bless
America and OUR TROOPS!!!!!  Please come home safe
Submitted by Shannon Smith

Article in the Midland Reporter Telegram on March 28, 2006

Smaller charities provide unique services

Advertisement
Smaller charities provide unique services

Editor's Note: Today's presentation on philanthropy in Midland is the final of a three-day series.

By Colin Guy

Staff Writer

The old axiom, "bigger is not always better," is just as true for charitable organizations as it is for anything else. While large charities and foundations play an invaluable role in the lives of hundreds of Midlanders; smaller, often overlooked charities are changing lives one at a time.

About five years ago Kathryn Shelley moved from Austin to Midland to help support her father, whose ability to communicate was severely limited after suffering a stroke. The stroke damaged part of his brain used for communication and inhibited his ability to speak, read and write, a condition known as aphasia.

Shelley's experiences with her father encouraged her to establish the West Texas Aphasia Center, a non-profit organization which provides support to victims of aphasia and their families. The organization's mission is to provide a community for victims of aphasia that can help them overcome the boredom and social isolation an inability to communicate effectively often leads to.

"Typically aphasia comes from a stroke or head injury, patients go through the hospital, to rehab then home with assisted living," Shelley said. "Because they can't talk, they can lose their career, often can't drive and social circles become very awkward and limited. Here, when rehab ends, that's where our program begins and our goals are different than in rehab."

While rehab focuses on helping patients regain the ability to walk again or speak again, the West Texas Aphasia Center staff help victims get back to living their lives.

"Everything we do is 'aphasia friendly,'" Shelley said. "Instead of just talking, we have visuals, and pen and paper handy. They can draw what they're trying to communicate. It's what each of us would do if we landed in a foreign country and didn't speak the language."

The program consists of two components, Shelley said. A 10-week introductory course provides aphasia victims and their families more information about the condition and provides techniques to improve communication. After that, members participate in community classes on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays.

They spend their mornings drinking coffee, reading the newspaper and conversing with one another. During the day activities include table games, musical sessions -- Shelley said it is often easier for some of the clients to sing than speak -- and an audio book club. A recently purchased computer lab also is available for clients, which features software designed specifically for people with aphasia.

Five staff members, including speech pathologists, and six volunteers keep the West Texas Aphasia Center operating. The organization received its seed funding from the Scharbauer-Lineberry Foundation but has since taken measures to generate its own revenue.

While the West Texas Aphasia Center aims to help develop a supporting community for victims of aphasia, other recently-established charities in Midland are focused on showing veterans from Iraq and Afghanistan there is an existing community eager to support them.

In 2004, Midlander Terry Johnson decided he wanted to express his gratitude to the nation's war veterans, many of whom were injured while performing their service for the country. An avid hunter, Johnson elected to demonstrate his support by offering to take veterans on a hunting trip through the woods of West Texas.

The first year of "Show of Support Military Hunt," Johnson worked with Gen. Bob Hollingsworth to find two young soldiers who had an interest in hunting. Hollingsworth helped identify two candidates who had been injured and were receiving treatment at Brooks Memorial Hospital in San Antonio. Johnson paid for the soldiers to fly to West Texas, fed them and led them through the woods outside of San Angelo where they stalked and killed two bucks.

The event received coverage from the Texas Trophy Hunters Association, and word spread about what Johnson was doing. In the fall of 2005, support for the program developed, and Johnson was able to invite the two soldiers from the first hunt along with 10 other veterans to join him on a series of weekend excursions.

Johnson spent the better part of a year scheduling the weekend hunting trips and organizing a banquet to honor the participants. The soldiers and their wives arrived in Midland in December and were fed barbecue and informed how much their sacrifices are truly appreciated. Additionally, Johnson's organization was able to secure enough support from the community to purchase a high-quality rifle for each of the soldiers. Next year, he said, he expects the event will be even larger.

"It's going to be a whole lot bigger this year," Johnson said. "We had a lot of people come to the banquet that didn't know what it was about, but now that they've seen it, we've got a lot more community support. Last year we took 12 soldiers hunting, this year that number will increase by quite a bit."

Johnson said he is planning to hold the banquet at the Horseshoe this year, tentatively scheduled for Nov. 16, and he expects there probably will be as many as 1,500 people purchasing seats at the event.

Like Johnson, Johnie Lee Qualls also decided to devote copious amounts of time toward expressing his appreciation to veterans. Qualls served in Vietnam with the 173rd Airborne Brigade and was appalled by the reaction many veterans of that war received when they returned home.

After retiring from the insurance business in 2004, Qualls resolved to dedicate his time to showing the next generation of war veterans that most of the country appreciates what they have done. He founded "Soldiers of Today and Yesterday" with wife Gladys to achieve this goal.

"When I came back from 'Nam I was spit on and mistreated," Qualls said. "I made myself a promise that if we go to war again, I don't want our troops to come back like we came back."

Qualls created a Web site that serves as a portal to military news sources and information about benefits and programs available to soldiers. The site also features a forum for soldiers in the field to visit with their families and friends, share stories about military life with one another and post poetry, pictures or "anything else they desire."

He also established an Internet radio station that broadcasts everything from pop favorites to classic country. Because the programming is carried over the Internet, Qualls said, the content is available to soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Qualls' organization also is involved in acquiring funds to provide scholarships for the children of veterans. In April, "Soldiers of Today and Yesterday" will hold its first major fundraiser, "Operation Support Our Troops." The event will be held April 21 at the Ector County Coliseum and will feature musical performances by Darryl Worley and Grammy Award Winner Marty Stuart and his Fabulous Superlatives.

"The money we raise is for the George H. O'Brien Scholarship Fund," Gladys said. "He's a Congressional Medal of Honor recipient who died last year, he was a Midland resident. We wanted to do more than just (honor) the troops, we wanted to have a scholarship fund for the children of our troops who served the country."

During the reception, Gladys said, six of O'Brien's friends, who also were recipients of the nation's highest award for military service, will be honored. Another ceremony will pay tribute to the nation's Prisoners of War and those who are Missing in Action. He said representatives from the Department of Defense, the House of Representatives' Veterans Affairs Committee and the Texas Veterans Commission all will be in attendance, along with many members of the military and their families.


Charlie Daniels on Illegal Mexicans

Charlie Daniels on Illegal Mexicans
 
 
Mexican Standoff
 
I don't know how everybody else feels about it, but to me I
think    Hispanic people in this country, legally or illegally,
made a huge public relations mistake with their recent
demonstrations.
 
I don't blame anybody in the world for wanting to come to the
United States of America, as it is a truly wonderful place. But
when the first thing you do when you set foot on American soil
is illegal it is flat out wrong and I don't care how many lala
land left heads come out of the woodwork and start trying to give me
sensitivity lessons.
 
I don't need sensitivity lessons; in fact I don't have anything
against Mexicans!  I just have something against
criminals and anybody who comes into this country illegally
is a criminal and if you don't believe it try coming into America
from a foreign country without a passport and see how far you get.
 
What disturbs me about the demonstrations is that it's
tantamount to saying, "I am going to come into your country even
if it means breaking your laws and there's nothing you can do about
it."
 
It's an "in your face" action and speaking just for me I don't
like it one little bit and if there were a half dozen pairs of
gonads in Washington bigger than English peas it wouldn't be
happening. Where are you, you bunch of lily livered,
pantywaist, forked tongued, sorry excuses for defenders of
The Constitution?
 
Have you been drinking the water out of the Potomac
again?
 
And even if you pass a bill on immigration it will probably be
so pork laden and watered down that it won't mean anything
anyway.
 
Besides, what good is any other law going to do when you won't
enforce the ones on the books now?
 
And what ever happened to the polls guys? I thought you folks
were the quintessential finger wetters. Well you sure ain't paying
any attention to the polls this time because somewhere around
eighty  percent of Americans want something done about this
mess, and mess it is and getting bigger everyday.
 
This is no longer a problem; it is a dilemma and headed for
being a tragedy. Do you honestly think that what happened in
France with  the Muslims can't happen here when the
businesses who hire these people finally run out of jobs
and a few million disillusioned Hispanics take to the streets?
 
If you, Mr. President, Congressmen and Senators, knuckle under
on this and refuse to do something meaningful it means that you
care  nothing for the kind of country your children and grandchildren
will inherit.
 
But I guess that doesn't matter as long as you get
re-elected.  Shame on you.
 
One of the big problems in America today is that if you have
the nerve to say anything derogatory about any group of people
(except Christians) you are going to be screamed at by the
media and called a racist, a bigot and anything else they can
think of to call you.
 
Well I've been pounded by the media before and I'm still
rockin' and rollin' and when it comes to speaking the truth
I fear not.
 
And the truth is that the gutless, gonad-less, milksop
politicians
are just about to sell out the United States of America because
they don't have the intestinal fortitude to stand up to the
face reality.
 
And reality is that we would never allow any other group of
people to have 12 million illegals in this country and turn
around and say, "Oh it's ok, ya'll can stay here if you'll just
allow  us to slap your wrist."
 
And I know that some of you who read this column are saying
"Well what's wrong with that?" I'll tell you what's wrong with it.
These people could be from Mars as far as we know.
We don't know who they are, where they are or what they're
up to and the way the Congress is going we're not going to.
 
Does this make sense? Labor force you say? We already subsidize
corporate agriculture as it is, must we subsidize their labor
as well?
 
If these people were from Haiti or if they were from Somalia or
Afghanistan would we be so fast to turn a blind eye to them? I
think not.
 
All the media shows us are pictures of hard working Hispanics
who have crossed the border just to try to better their life. They
don't show you pictures of the Feds rounding up members of MS 13,
the violent gang who came across the same way the decent folks
did. They don't tell you about the living conditions of the
Mexican illegals some fat cat hired to pick his crop.
 
I want to make two predictions. No. 1: This situation is going
to grow and fester until it erupts in violence on our streets
while the wimps in Washington drag their toes in the dirt and try to
figure how many tons of political hay they can make to the
acre.
 
No 2: Somebody is going to cross that border with some kind of
weapon of mass destruction and set it off in a major American
city after which there will be a backlash such as this country has
never experienced and the Capitol building in Washington will
probably tilt as Congressmen and Senators rush to the other
side of the issue.
 
I don't know about you but I would love to see just one
major politician stand up and say, "I don't care who I make
mad  and I don't care how many votes I lose, this is a
desperate situation and I'm going to lead the fight to get
it straightened out."
 
I don't blame anybody for wanting to come to America, but if
you don't respect our immigration laws why should you
respect any others.
 
And by the way, this is America and our flag has stars and
stripes. Please get that other one out of my face.
 
Pray for our troops
 
What do you think?
 
God Bless America Charlie Daniels;
 
April 10, 2006

Gary Sinise, star of the hit television show "CSI: NY

WASHINGTON, Jan. 14, 2006 - Gary Sinise, star of the hit television show "CSI:
NY," appeared on the Fox News Channel program Hannity and Colmes yesterday to
discuss his continued support for American troops and his charity Operation
Iraqi Children.

Co-host Sean Hannity asked Sinise about his experience visiting wounded
servicemembers recovering in the hospital.

"I'm not a guy who has an easy time in hospitals, so I was a little fearful of
what I would see there," Sinise said. "When you do go you completely forget
about your own self, because that's not why you go. You're there for them."

The actor portrayed Lt. Dan, a Vietnam War amputee in the movie "Forrest Gump."

Sinise said he first met wounded troops more than two years ago at Landstuhl
Regional Medical Center in Germany, and has since visited Bethesda Naval
Medical Center in Maryland and Walter Reed Army Medical Center here four
times.

"I just talk to them about what happened to them and wish them well and let
them know that we're grateful and we care about them, and that we're not going
to forget about them," he said. "It means a lot."

Sinise said the experience of visiting wounded troops also puts his life in
perspective and solidifies his gratitude to the men and women who protect this
country.

"I feel very fortunate that we have volunteers who are wiling to join the
military and go out there and serve," he said. "And again we need to remember
that this is an all-volunteer armed service."

Sinise's charitable organization, Operation Iraqi Children, collects and ships
school supplies and toys to Iraq. The items are then distributed to the
children by American servicemembers. Sinise has previously stated that this
project not only helps the Iraqi children with needed materials, it also boosts
the morale of the troops who pass out the items.

When asked if he felt lonely being a conservative in Hollywood, Sinise declined
to get into a political discussion. "It's funny I would be labeled that way,"
he said. "I don't know anything about that. I'm an American citizen, and I feel
that I want to do something to give back."

Operation Iraqi Children is a way to "support the troops without being
political at all," he said.

In addition to his interaction with wounded troops and his work with Operation
Iraqi Children, Sinise has been active in "America Supports You," a Defense
Department program that showcases what American citizens and corporations are
doing for the nation's men and women in uniform.



Related Sites:

America Supports You [http://www.americasupportsyou.mil/]

Operation Iraqi Children [http://www.operationiraqichildren.org/]

Ann Margret

Ann Margret
This is a good counter balance story to the Jane Fonda/Vietnam/ Woman Of The Year story I have received many times in my e-mail.
Ann Margret 

Viet Nam 1966

Richard, (my husband), never really talked a lot about his time in Viet Nam other than he had been shot by a sniper. However, he had a rather grainy, 8 x 10 black and white photo he had taken at a USO show of Ann Margret with Bob Hope in the background that was one of his treasures.

A few years ago, Ann Margret was doing a book signing at a local bookstore. Richard wanted to see if he could get her to sign the treasured photo so he arrived at the bookstore at 12 o'clock for the 7:30 signing.

When I got there after work, the line went all the way around the bookstore, circled the parking lot and disappeared behind a parking garage. Before her appearance, bookstore employees announced that she would sign only her book and no memorabilia would be permitted.

Richard was disappointed, but wanted to show her the photo and let her know how much those shows meant to lonely GI's so far from home. Ann Margret came out looking as beautiful as ever and, as second in line, it was soon Richard's turn.

He presented the book for her signature and then took out the photo. When he did, there were many shouts from the employees that she would not sign it. Richard said, "I understand. I just wanted her to see it."

She took one look at the photo, tears welled up in her eyes and she said, "This is one of my gentlemen from Viet Nam and I most certainly will sign his photo. I know what these men did for their country and I always have time for 'my gentlemen.'"


With that, she pulled Richard across the table and planted a big kiss on him. She then made quite a to-do about the bravery of the young men she met over the years, how much she admired them, and how much she appreciated them There weren't too many dry eyes among those close enough to hear. She then posed for pictures and acted as if he were the only one there.

Later at dinner, Richard was very quiet. When I asked if he'd like to talk about it, my big strong husband broke down in tears. "That's the first time anyone ever thanked me for my time in the Army," he said.

That night was a turning point for him. He walked a little straighter and, for the first time in years, was proud to have been a Vet. I'll never forget Ann Margret for her graciousness and how much that small act of kindness meant to my husband.

I now make it a point to say "Thank you" to every person I come across who served in our Armed Forces. Freedom does not come cheap and I am grateful for all those who have served their country.


If you'd like to pass on this story, feel free to do so. Perhaps it will help others to become aware of how important it is to acknowledge the contribution our service people make.


Don't be too busy today...
Share this inspiring message with friends and family.

On behalf of those who DO appreciate all that you did for us, thank you to each of you who receive this message who have served or are serving our country in the armed services or any other service

The elderly parking lot attendant wasn't in a good mood!

The elderly parking lot attendant wasn't in a good mood!


Neither was Sam Bierstock. It was around 1 a.m., and Bierstock, a Delray Beach, Fla. , eye doctor, business consultant, corporate speaker and musician, was bone tired after appearing at an event.

He pulled up in his car, and the parking attendant began to speak. "I took two bullets for this country and look what I'm doing," he said bitterly.

At first, Bierstock didn't know what to say to the World War II veteran. But he rolled down his window and told the man, "Really, from the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you."

Then the old soldier began to cry.

"That really got to me," Bierstock says.

Cut to today.

Bierstock, 58, and John Melnick, 54, of Pompano Beach - a member of Bierstock's band, Dr. Sam and the Managed Care Band - have written a song inspired by that old soldier in the airport parking lot. The mournful "Before You Go" does more than salute those who fought in WWII. It encourages people to go out of their way to thank the aging warriors before they die.

"If we had lost that particular war, our whole way of life would have been shot," says Bierstock, who plays harmonica. "The WW II soldiers are now dying at the rate of about 2,000 every day. I thought we needed to thank them."

The song is striking a chord. Within four days of Bierstock placing it on the Web
http://www.beforeyougo.us, the song and accompanying photo essay have bounced around nine countries, producing tears and heartfelt thanks from veterans, their sons and daughters and grandchildren.

"It made me cry," wrote one veteran's son. Another sent an e-mail saying that only after his father consumed several glasses of wine would he discuss "the unspeakable horrors" he and other soldiers had witnessed in places such as Anzio, Iwo Jima, Bataan and Omaha Beach. "I can never thank them enough," the son wrote. "Thank you for thinking about them."

Bierstock and Melnick thought about shipping it off to a professional singer, maybe a Lee Greenwood type, but because time was running out for so many veterans, they decided it was best to release it quickly, for free, on the Web. They've sent the song to Sen. John McCain and others in Washington. Already they have been invited to perform it in Houston for a Veterans Day tribute - this after just a few days on the Web. They hope every veteran in America gets a chance to hear it.




GOD BLESS EVERY veteran...
and THANK YOU to those of you veterans who may receive this !

CLICK THE LINK BELOW TO HEAR THE SONG AND SEE THE PICTURES:

The Story of Six Boys

The Story of Six Boys

Each year I am hired to go to Washington, DC, with the eighth grade class
from Clinton, WI. where I grew up, to videotape their trip. I greatly
enjoy visiting our nation's capitol, and each year I take some special
memories back with me. This fall's trip was especially memorable.

On the last night of our trip, we stopped at the Iwo Jima memorial. This
memorial is the largest bronze statue in the world and depicts one of the
most famous photographs in history -- that of the six brave soldiers
raising the American Flag at the top of a rocky hill on the island of Iwo
Jima, Japan, during WW II.

Over one hundred students and chaperones piled off the buses and headed
towards the memorial. I noticed a solitary figure at the base of the
statue, and as I got closer he asked, "Where are you guys from?"

I told him that we were from Wisconsin. "Hey, I'm a cheese head, too!
Come gather around, Cheese heads, and I will tell you a story."

(James Bradley just happened to be in Washington, DC, to speak at the
memorial the following day. He was there that night to say good night
tohis dad, who has since passed away. He was just about to leave when he
saw the buses pull up. I videotaped him as he spoke to us, and
receivedhis permission to share what he said from my videotape. It is one
thingto tour the incredible monuments filled with history in
Washington,D.C., but it is quite another to get the kind of insight we
received that night).

When all had gathered around, he reverently began to speak. Here are his
words that night:

"My name is James Bradley and I'm from Antigo, Wisconsin. My dad is on
that statue, and I just wrote a book called "Flags of Our Fathers" which
is #5 on the New York Times Best Seller list right now. It is the story
of the six boys you see behind me.

"Six boys raised the flag. The first guy putting the pole in the ground
is Harlon Block. Harlon was an! all-sta te football player. He enlisted in
the Marine Corps with all the senior members of his football team. They
were off to play another type of game. A game called "War." But it didn't
turn out to be a game.

Harlon, at the age of 21, died with his intestines in his hands. I don't
say that to gross you out, I say that because there are generals who
stand in front of this statue and talk about the glory of war. You guys
need to know that most of the boys in Iwo Jima were 17, 18, and 19 years
old.

(He pointed to the statue) "You see this next guy? That's Rene Gagnon
from New Hampshire. If you took Rene's helmet off at the moment this
photo was taken and looked in the webbing of that helmet, you would find
a photograph. ...a photograph of his girlfriend. Rene put that in there
for protection because he was scared. He was 18 years old. Boys won the
battle of Iwo Jima. Boys. Not old men.

"The next guy here, the third guy in this tableau, was Sergeant Mike
Strank. Mike is my hero. He was the hero of all these guys. They called
him the "old man" because he was so old. He was already 24. When Mike
would motivate his boys in training camp, he didn't say, 'Let's go kill
some Japanese' or 'Let's die for our country.' He knew he was talking to
little boys. Instead he would say, 'You do what I say, and I'll get you
home to your mothers.'

"The last guy on this side of the statue is Ira Hayes, a Pima Indian from
Arizona. Ira Hayes walked off Iwo Jima. He went into the White House with
my dad. President Truman told him, 'You're a hero.' He told reporters,
'How can I feel like a hero when 250 of my buddies hit the island with me
and only 27 of us walked off alive?' So you take your class at school,
250 of you spending a year together having fun, doing everything
together. Then all 250 of you hit the beach, but only 27 of your
classmates walk off alive. That was Ira Hayes. He had images of
horror in his mind. Ira Hayes die! d dead d runk, face down at the age of
32. ...ten years after this picture was taken.

"The next guy, going around the statue, is Franklin Sousley from
Hilltop, Kentucky. A fun-lovin' hillbilly boy. Franklin died on Iwo Jima
at the age of 19. When the telegram came to tell his mother that he was
dead, it went to the Hilltop General Store. A barefoot boy ran that
telegram up to his mother's farm. The neighbors could hear her scream all
night and into the morning. The neighbors lived a quarter of a mile away.

"The next guy, as we continue to go around the statue, is my dad, John
Bradley from Antigo, Wisconsin, where I was raised. My dad lived until
1994, but he would never give interviews. When Walter Cronkite's
producers, or the New York Times would call, we were trained as little
kids to say, 'No, I'm sorry, sir, my dad's not here. He is in Canada
fishing. No, there is no phone there, sir. No, we don't know when he is
coming back.' My dad never fished or even went to Canada. Usually, he was
sitting there right at the table eating his Campbell's soup. But we
had to tell the press that he was out fishing. He didn't want to talk to
the press.

"You see, my dad didn't see himself as a hero. Everyone thinks these guys
are heroes, 'cause they are in a photo and on a monument. My dad knew
better. He was a medic. John Bradley from Wisconsin was a caregiver. In
Iwo Jima he probably held over 200 boys as they died. And when boys died
in Iwo Jima, they writhed and screamed in pain.

"When I was a little boy, my third grade teacher told me that my dad was
a hero. When I went home and told my dad that, he looked at me and said,
'I want you always to remember that the heroes of Iwo Jima are the guys
who did not come back. Did NOT come back.'

"So that's the story about six nice young boys. Three died on Iwo Jima,
and three came back as national heroes. Overall, 7,000 boys died on Iwo
Jima in the worst battle in the history of! the Mar ine Corps. My voice is
giving out, so I will end here. Thank you for your time."

Suddenly, the monument wasn't just a big old piece of metal with a flag
sticking out of the top. It came to life before our eyes with the
heartfelt words of a son who did indeed have a father who was a hero.
Maybe not a hero for the reasons most people would believe,

but a hero nonetheless.

We need to remember that God created this vast and glorious world for us
to live in, freely, but also at great sacrifice. Let us never forget from
the Revolutionary War to the Gulf War and all the wars in between that
sacrifice was made for our freedom. Remember to pray praises for this
great country of ours and also pray for those still in murderous unrest
around the world. STOP and THANK GOD for being alive

and being free as someone else's sacrifice.

REMINDER: Every day you wake up free, IS a great day.

 

JOHN GLENN SAID:

JOHN GLENN SAID:


Things that make you think a little:

There were 39 combat related killings in Iraq in January.
In the fair city of Detroit there were 35 murders in the
month of January. That's just one American city,
about as deadly as the entire war-torn country of Iraq.

When some claim that President Bush shouldn't
have started this war, state the following:

a. FDR led us into World War II.

b. Germany never attacked us; Japan did.
From 1941-1945, 450,000 lives were lost ...
an average of 112,500 per year.

c. Truman finished that war and started one in Korea.
North Korea never attacked us.
From 1950-1953, 55,000 lives were lost
an average of 18,334 per year.

D. John F. Kennedy started the Vietnam conflict in 1962.
Vietnam never attacked us.

e.   Johnson turned Vietnam into a quagmire.
From 1965-1975, 58,000 lives were lost...
an average of 5,800 per year.

f. Clinton went to war in Bosnia without UN or French consent.
Bosnia never attacked us.
He was offered Osama bin Laden's head on a platter three
times by Sudan and did nothing. Osama has attacked us on
multiple occasions.

g. In the years since terrorists attacked us, President Bush
has liberated two countries, crushed the Taliban, crippled
al-Qaida, put nuclear inspectors in Libya, ! Iran, and North
Korea without firing a shot, and captured a terrorist who
slaughtered 300,000 of his own people.

The Democrats are complaining
about how long the war is taking.
But
it took less time to take Iraq than it took Janet Reno
to take the Branch Davidian compound. That was a 51-day operation.

We've been looking for evidence for chemical weapons
in Iraq for less time than it took Hillary Clinton to find
the Rose Law Firm billing records.

It took less time for the 3rd Infantry Division and the
Marines to destroy the Medina Republican Guard
than it took Ted Kennedy to call the police after his
Oldsmobile sank at Chappaquiddick

It took less time to take Iraq than it took
to count the votes in Florida!!!!

Our Commander-In-Chief is doing a GREAT JOB!
The Military morale is high!

The biased media hopes we are too ignorant
to realize the facts.

But Wait. There's more!

JOHN GLENN (ON THE SENATE FLOOR)
Mon, 26 Jan 2004 11:13

Some people still don't understand why military personnel
do what they do for a living. This exchange between
Senators John Glenn and Senator Howard Metzenbaum
is worth reading. Not only is it a pretty impressive
impromptu speech, but it's also a good example of one
man's explanation of why men and women in the armed
services do what they do for a living.

This IS a typical, though sad, example of what
some who have never served think of the military.

Senator Metzenbaum (speaking to Senator Glenn):
"How can you run for Senate
when you've never held a real job?"

Senator Glenn (D-Ohio):
"I served 23 years in the United States Marine Corps.
I served through two wars. I flew 149 missions.
My plane was hit by anti-aircraft fire on 12 different
occasions. I was in the space program.  It wasn't my
checkbook, Howard; it was my life on the line. It was
not a nine-to-five job, where I took my tie off to take the daily cash
receipts to the bank."

"I ask you to go with me ... as I went the other day...
to a veterans' hospital and look those men...
with their mangled bodies in the eye, and tell THEM
they didn't hold a job!

You go with me to the Space Program at NASA and go,
as I have gone, to the widows and orphans
of Ed White, Gus Grissom, and Roger Chaffee...
and you look those kids in the eye and tell them
that their DADS didn't hold a job.

You go with me! on Memorial Day, and you stand in
Arlington National Cemetery, where I have more friends
buried than I'd like to remember, and you watch
those waving flags

You stand there, and you think about this nation,
and you tell ME that those people didn't have a job?

What about you?"

For those who don't remember.
During W.W.II, Howard Metzenbaum (D) was an attorney
representing the Communist Party in the USA.

Now he's a Senator!

If you can read this, thank a teacher.
If you are reading it in English thank a Veteran.

It might not be a bad idea to keep this circulating.

highlight the page to be able to read) What Are We Fighting For? History in the Making!

(highlight the page to be able to read) 

What Are We Fighting For?
History in the Making!

by Chief Master Sergeant Bob Anderson

On December 15, Iraq held their national elections and I’m sure that the media has bombarded you with images of armed personnel, explosions and death. To quote Paul Harvey, “now let me tell you the rest of the story!” That day I was in Baghdad. I was on patrol with a couple of young Air Force Security Force members (for you older folks, we used to be called Security Police). They are in the early twenties. Just a couple of kids from back home, young and full of “spit and vinegar” – and two of the best ambassadors this country has.

We went to the theater district. This is where the squatters live. They are Iraqi citizens that moved into the building when Iraq fell. Poverty – trust me – you don’t know the meaning of the word. Twenty-one members of the same family occupy the second floor. One person is employed and they all live off of his salary. In rooms that used to be storage or rest rooms they have set up their homes. One room was about 12 x 20 feet. It had one couch, an office size refrigerator and a TV. There was a rug on the floor – that was it. As near as I could count this family consisted of a father, mother and about three kids with another on the way – and three parakeets in a cage; it was clean! Our host asked us to sit and brought pillows and we all sat on the floor. Soon the rest of the expanded family drifted in.

This consisted of three brothers (and their families), an uncle and the grandmother. Grandmother is pronounced Ba Bein (don’t ask me how to spell it), and she reminded me of my grandmother, whom we call Mom. Tough little lady with a lot of pride and a lot of iron in her back bone – she had walked about a mile to vote. She kept showing the purple finger that signified she had voted. She was so proud!

They asked us to stay for lunch. I thought “Okay, this is not a good thing. I can see Montezuma’s revenge is going to get me this evening!” but I had to take one for the team. Don’t know what it was we ate (I’ve learned not to ask) but it was delicious! I felt bad, because they did not have food to be wasting on strangers. But it would have been an insult to turn it down. Luckily, I dodged the bullet and never got sick (ha, ha).

As we sat on the floor, they served me, my two kids and the interpreter while we talked. Guess what, except for the language barrier it was a good visit. They are just people. Different cultures, different religions but they were Moms and Dads and kids trying to survive! The kids were adorable, but stand offish with me as I sat there in uniform and battle rattle with a gun on my hip. It took about 20 minutes to make contact with them and then all they wanted to do was slap hands in a wide variety of high fives! Not a single child had a pair of shoes that matched! They were well behaved and polite. They only knew we were Americans and quoting them, “We take better care of them than their own people.”

Like I find in the Philippines, people are pretty much people where ever you go, it’s the governments that set the differences. They were proud to be able to feed us, although I have no idea how much we impacted their own food supplies. They were proud to be able to be our hosts, although they had nothing to share except their thoughts, their dreams and their hopes. I thought of the little drummer boy story.

The theater is a wreck, it is an abandoned building. Water flows sometimes and electricity is not a problem. There were no windows; all had been destroyed during the battles for Baghdad. There were no sidewalks, there were no parks. It was dirty and dilapidated on the outside, but clean and comfortable on the inside – except for the dust which is every where over here. There were no doors, sheets and blankets had been hung as closures. A hot plate heated the dinning room.

Outside a concrete casement was filled with burning wood, and Grandma was making bread. When the casement was hot enough, she slammed the dough against the side and it cooked. It was filthy with dust, grime and God knows what else. It was also the best bread I’ve ever had.

My two young Air Cops, who on the way over there were talking trash and listening to what passes for music today, changed the minute we drove up. They matured about 20 years and absolutely recognized what they were doing and they did it well. Now in the states, these two bone heads would be chasing girls, playing games and acting their ages. In this home, they were reserved, polite and absolutely perfect. I could not have been prouder of them.

When we finally left, we went back to the Cop Shop and I violated uniform standards as I stood in battle rattle with a Santa Claus hat my wife had sent that had CHIEF written in red glitter across the white band. I will probably send that picture to the 3510 Nazis!! A.G. Russell and his wife Goldie had sent packages to the 732d Cops. They individually packaged books, magazines and knife catalog and a pocket knife for each of my kids. The kids were thrilled to get them. If you have need of a good knife, contact A.G. RUSSELL KNIVES in Arkansas. He handles good merchandise and he and Goldie are great Americans.

After guard mount (shift change), I went to Check Point One. This is one of the hottest areas in Baghdad. Vehicle Borne Improvised Explosive Devices are routinely set off in that area and there is near constant sniper fire. Across the street is a park where the kids play soccer. Most of the time, you can tell when a VBIED is going to detonate, the kids leave the area. Traffic was almost none-existent that day and no one shot at us.

We only had one rocket hit close that morning, before I arrived in the IZ. It missed a water truck and injured three people. A fourth was a Marine on guard duty. His SAPI plate (part of his protected gear) took several hits and he caught a piece of shrapnel in his arm. What did he do? He wrapped a bandage around his arm and continued to stand his post. God I love my Jarheads!! Semper Fi Guys and Gals.

So what are we fighting for? Giving these kids a chance to grow up! Giving these families a chance to survive! We’re fighting for them, while their own country is fighting over them! Giving a kid a real PAIR of shoes, not just two that don’t match! The right for them to vote and determine their own destiny to some degree! The right to stand your post when you have been wounded! The honor to do for other folks what they can’t do for themselves! The right and privilege to be ambassadors! The honor of sharing food with people that don’t have enough themselves! Lastly, we’re fighting for the hope that should something like this ever happen in our own country – somewhere there would be someone brave enough, good enough, strong enough, blessed enough to give a damn and try to help.

Like the Duke said, we’ve got a chance to hit a lick for freedom. Do what’s right and you’re alive. Don’t and you’re walking around but you’re as dead inside as a beaver hat. To paraphrase ol’ Blood and Guts said, “At least I won’t have to tell my grandkids I shoveled “crap” in Louisiana.”

Today I have passed the Noah Mark. Yesterday, I had forty days and forty nights. Today I only have 39! It has been a long tour, but not as long as my Army and Marine brothers and sisters. But it has been long enough. Without the support of all of you at home this tour would have been impossible! You have no idea how much I appreciate each of you.

God Bless and Merry Christmas

-Bob


Bob Anderson, CMSgt is in the US Air Force Reserves serving as the Security Forces Manager for the 917th Security Forces Squadron, Barksdale Air Force Base in Louisiana. He volunteered for a six month tour that began in July 2005. He is located at Balad Air Base in Iraq serving as the Chief Enlisted Manager of the 732d Expeditionary Security Forces Squadron at Logistic Support Area Anaconda.

for more on this article or others, please log on www.vetfriends.com

Rest in peace, fellow Veteran

This is the obituary that was posted in the Coronado Island newspaper, (The Coronado Eagle) in San Diego.

Coronado Island is the home of the Naval Air Station North Island, the Birth Place of Naval Aviation and the Naval Amphibious Base Coronado, the Navy Seal training base and the USS Ronald Reagan.  

He really enjoyed being immersed in the total Navy experience and contact in his last days. My Dad was living there the last year so that he could receive treatment for his illnesses from the Balboa Naval Hospital, the very hospital where he received his Hospital Corpsman training in 1941. He then took this training into 3 wars over his 30 years to help save our wounded warriors injured in battle.

He never made a big deal about it, but he must have saved many lives of our Navy and Marine heroes.

Thank you,
Bob

 

James M. Rose, CWO-USN

LETTER FROM A FARM KID NOW AT THE MARINE CORPS RECRUIT DEPOT IN SAN DIEGO.

LETTER FROM A FARM KID NOW AT THE MARINE CORPS RECRUIT DEPOT IN SAN DIEGO.

Dear Ma and Pa:

I am well. Hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer the Marine Corps beats working for old man Minch by a mile. Tell them to join up quick before maybe all of the places are filled.

I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m., but am getting so I like to sleep late. Tell Walt and Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically nothing. Men got to shave but it is not so bad, there's warm water. Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie and other regular food. But tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit by the two city> boys that live on coffee. Their food plus yours holds you till noon when you get fed again. It's no wonder these city boys can't walk much. We go on "route" marches, which the Platoon Sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it is not my place to tell him different. A "route march" is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks. The country is nice, but awful flat. The Sergeant is like a schoolteacher. He nags some. The Captain is like the school board. Majors and Colonels just ride around and frown. They don't bother you none. This next will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don't know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk head and don't move. And it ain't shooting at you, like the Higgett boys at home. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You don't even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes. Then we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. You get to wrestle with them city boys. I have to be real careful though, they break real easy. It ain't like fighting with that ole bull at home. I'm about the best they got in this except for that Tug Jordan from over in Silver Lake. He joined up the same time as me. But I'm only 5'6" and 130 pounds and he's 6'8" and weighs near 300 pounds dry. Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before
other fellers get onto this setup and come stampeding in.

Your loving daughter,

Gail

Here's my story of CW2 Carl Selph, Satan 11, 235th Avn Co. (Atk Hel),

I have it in the book I'm trying to write. I've got about 150 8 x10 pages typed. Here's my story of CW2 Carl Selph, Satan 11, 235th Avn Co. (Atk Hel), Can Tho, Viet Nam.

I don't remember the exact year, month, day, but I know it was between May 68 and May 70 probably 68 or 69 since the 235th was still parked on the North side of the runway and their hootches were up by the Officer's Club.

On Can Tho Airfield, there was a "Scramble Pad" belonging to the 235th Delta Devils. The pad was at the corner of the West Ramp and the Center Taxiway I was working traffic in the control tower one day and when I saw the birds on the Scramble Pad cranking. I immediately cleared all aircraft out of the traffic pattern to give the Cobras a clear path outbound from their pads. The calls came in..."Can Tho Tower, Satan 11 flight of two, SCRAMBLE". I replied, "Satan 11, Can Tho, South Departure Approved, wind calm, Altimeter two niner niner two, Cleared for takeoff."

The birds pulled pitch and headed over the North Swamp to the Center Taxiway and southbound. Once they were clear, I brought the traffic back into the pattern. While I was working my air traffic, I saw the two Cobras circling a couple miles south of the airfield. Then I hear on Can Tho's UHF freq. "12, this is 11, come up Victor". No Reply from 12. A couple minutes later I hear "Satan 12, this is Satan 11, Come up Victor". Still no response. I can tell by Satan 11's voice, he is getting a little irritated/pissed, whatever you want to call it; he ain't happy. Next, I hear on Tower UHF..."SATAN 12, THIS IS SATAN 11, ARE YOU ON THIS FREQUENCY!! Satan 12 replied back like nothing happened, "Yeah". Satan 11's response..."THEN TURN ON YOUR GODDAMN VICTOR!!!"

We all laughed in the tower. I immediately call downstairs for the guys to mark the tapes. Everything said over the tower frequencies is taped and held for thirty days in case there was an accident or something happen that would need the tapes to help determine a possible fault, etc. When the fire team returned I went to the pilot's hootches to find Carl. When I knocked on his door, a Lt. answered my knock. He wasn't too impressed to have an enlisted man in "officer's country". He asked me what I wanted. I saw Carl in the back of the hootch and said I was looking for him, pointing at Carl. Carl saw me and asked, "What do you want?" I asked him if he wanted to come hear himself in Stereo. The Lt asked what I was talking about and Carl told him a little. Carl, the Lt and I walked back to the Tower. I buzzed upstairs to get in. SP/5 Roy Erwin, another controller came outside and looked over the tower wall. He hollered out "Is that him, Is that the guy?" like he was about to be hanged. Carl thought it was funny. The Lt wasn't too sure if we were going to write up an OHR (Operational Hazard Report) or something else.

We went in the conex where the tape machine was. All three of us got a good laugh out of the tape. Even the LT. Yeah, War Is Hell, but a GI will make a joke out of the least little things to break the monotony and get a laugh.

By SP/5 Jeff "Fuzzy" Fozard

Popcorn! By T.J. McGinley

 

Popcorn!

By T.J. McGinley

 

In South East Asia, in the latter part of the year, a weather event takes place called the monsoons. You don’t know what rain is until you’ve been in a rain forest during monsoon season. This event caused most of the American military to shut down its operations in the jungles, due to the inability to provide air support to the troops in the field.

When a group of soldiers is re-supplied by helicopter, their location is being broadcast for miles around and time is crucial. While I was in a line company, 180 men, we did not get packages in the field, simply because it took too long to distribute them to all the men. But when I joined a much smaller recon unit we could be re-supplied in a short amount of time and we got packages from home.

My recon team was being re-supplied when I got a huge box of stuff from home. Once the last helicopter took off, we had to pack up and change location as soon as possible. I distributed the contents of the package to those I knew would be joining me in its consumption, and we left the area.

After about an hour of climbing, we got on high ground and set up camp when it started to rain–hard. The monsoon had started early and we were stuck on this hill somewhere in the Central Highlands. Under normal conditions, we never spent more than one night in the same place; but in the driving rain moving through the jungle was close to impossible for Americans.

My mom had sent me canned ham, canned chili, canned corn, chicken soup, chocolate chip cookies, just to name a few of the goodies. All these things we take for granted at home, but in this case none of us had tasted a homemade chocolate chip cookie in months. I became the most popular guy in the unit.

Imagine twelve American soldiers packed under an out- stretched four foot by six foot poncho, on the top of a jungle-covered mountain in the pouring rain, popping Jiffy Pop popcorn and talking of home. We stayed there for a week and enjoyed every minute.

It’s surprising how the simple things can sometimes be the best.

The Monkey Man By Roberto Campos and Dwight Lane As Told to T.J. McGinley

 

The Monkey Man

By Roberto Campos and Dwight Lane

As Told to T.J. McGinley

In the jungle covered mountains of the Central Highlands of South Vietnam, prowl many a strange creature. This is the story of a chance encounter between two such beings.

In order to move a number of men through the densely covered mountains of this magnificent rain forest, we traveled in single file. The first person in the column was the point and the man behind him was his slack.

Dwight Lane was walking point for the recon platoon known as Tiger Force. While winding their way up an especially thick portion of terrain, the order came around to stop. Dwight was exhausted from fighting the nearly impenetrable foliage. He stepped around a tree and sat down next to another individual who appeared to be enjoying a meal.

Thinking him to be his slack man Dwight started a conversation but was totally ignored. Then the order came up to move.

Slightly irritated by now and without ever looking directly at him, Dwight told the individual he was in the way and slapped him on the shoulder.

Immediately, the individual jumped up and landed directly on Dwight’s chest. A few yards away, Bob Campos heard one hell of a commotion and looked in Dwight’s direction. Bob saw, what he later described as an enraged child violently shaking what looked like a Raggedy Ann doll. Amidst the thrashing and jumble of arms and legs he could hear Dwight screaming, "Shoot it! Shoot the thing!"

Compos, not knowing whether to yell, shoot or spit, watched in astonishment as the scuffle ended as quickly as it had begun. Battered, bloodied and totally bewildered, Dwight picked up his M-16 and ran into the jungle swearing and firing at the six foot, 200 pound orangutan that had accosted him.

T.J. McGinley

Tiger Force

101 Airborne Division

Vietnam 68/69

J, Did you get the story, “Jammed”? Here’s some more of TJ’s VN Adventures. Enjoy, TJ

Second of Nine

I was the second of nine children, four of which were draft age in 1967. The oldest was in the Marines already, one in military school and another in high school. I’d just graduated with no plans for college. I was a prime draft target, in other words EPENDABLE. I felt if I went to Vietnam the chances of my brothers going would be slim, so I went airborne to assure a ticket to Southeast Asia. It worked, I went and everybody else stayed home.

I was in a line company for seven months when I had a chance to join a recon platoon knows as Tiger Force. Being a Tiger was the pinnacle of my military career because I felt I was part of an elite team within an elite group. Being in the field with this small, but effective, unit of sky soldiers turned out to be the safest place in the Nam, for me anyway. Each man was hand picked, field experienced, and above all, knew what they were doing.

I didn’t take the military as seriously as they would have wanted me to, so in the rear, as little as I saw of it, I seemed to attract trouble. Certainly for all who participated in the fighting, that part was a hassle, to say the least. However, as much as that dominated, there was a bright side to all this madness. I learned to live each day as if it were my last, not just then, but ever since.

I’ve also found out by research that all my childhood heroes were recon men. For example, Francis Marion, Nathan Bedford Forest, John Mosby, known as the Grey Ghost, Bill Hickock, and the men of the Alamo. All these men served in small units of volunteers who were up against, more often than not, superior numbers. "Upstarts, rabble, nonconformists, misfits," lifers have been calling recon men this throughout history. However, these same lifers will admit that recon men were the best in the business of "out indianing" the Indians.

Another segment of my experience that fascinated me was the jungle. During operation Nevada Eagle, the 1st Brigade of the 101st entered the jungle of the Central Highlands of South Vietnam, on May 17, 1968, and stayed there until February 28, 1969. The jungle was hot, wet and magnificent. We were in places humans have never been before. We slept on the ground in a different place every night for months.

As a young boy, I was in scouts and loved camping out in the woods. Operation Nevada Eagle and Massachusetts Striker were a scout’s dream of endless camping. I admit it had its drawbacks. Humping a ruck full of c-rations and chasing Chuck was no picnic, but overall the testing of one’s self against all odds was the ultimate challenge. I now realize life has been very good to me. I saw the worst it had to offer – now there’s nothing but the best.

T.J. McGinley

Tiger Force

1/327/101 Abn.Div.

VN – 68-69

Stories

Battle of the Bulge WWI - by Saul Reiter, Florida

Subject: EYE VIEW FROM CHARLIE DANIELS Forwarded by Skip Baca - Midland, TX

Tiger Force - Vietnam 1968-1969 - Submitted by TJ McGinley

From doing patrol/watch at the sunny Cocoa Beach in Florida to testing duties at the Alakskan Arctic by Carl Campanaro - Midland, TX

Some of the things I remember about Vietnam - Johnie Lee Qualls - Midland, TX

Tony Diana - Orlando, Florida Supporting our Troops through Music www.tonydiana.com

GOOD MORNING, VIET NAM – THE REAL DEAL……… G.I. JIM: PLAYING THE HITS! Jim Kennedy – Corporate Format Director

Wade Gamblin - Midland, TX. USA Sept. 1943 - March 1946

The legend of Bin Laden Wade Gamblin - Midland, TX.

No place but Texas Cassandra Smith/Dorthy Bennett

MM3 Ray LeBlanc - Midland, TX USN Go Navy, Fly Navy

The Ernesto and Nicky Sanchez Family - Midland, TX.

Soldier's Creed and letter of a dead Marine - 1969

Johnie Lee Qualls My Saga began 1965 Trip around the World and Back

Denzel Washington (The actor) - visiting BAMC in San Antonio, TX.

Code of the West - Maria Duron - the Town Planner, Midland, TX.

A Love Story..... The Story of one man's love - CWO-4 James Monroe Rose 1941 -1971


IRAQ's Wild, Wild West

IRAQ's Wild West - Part 2 Welcome to that Star Wars town

IRAQ's Wild West, Part 3 - Meet the new boss


The original "Band of Brothers"

God in America by Pastor Chad Benson - Harvest Time Church - Midland, TX.

The Sailor's Creed & Anchors Aweigh

Forwarded by Bob Rose Things that make you think a little....

When I pray for the safety of our troops - Fr. James P. Bridges, Pastor of St. Stephen's Catholic Church - Midland, TX.

My Grandfather, my Hero - Ray W. Brasher - Midland-Odessa, TX - April 20, 2005

A Mother lost her Son to War by Gary Jacobson- 2000

The 15th Field Artillery Battalion in World War Two By: Colonel Ed Hrdlicka

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