tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16938466504306468092024-03-08T05:05:15.918-05:00Lead, Follow, or Move Aside<u>Leadership is as Justice Potter Stewart said about Porn (Jacobellis v. Ohio (1964)</u>: “I know it when I see it.”Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-27348911664914626932024-02-28T21:52:00.002-05:002024-02-28T21:53:18.600-05:00Vietnam Reflection: February 28, 1966 Operation NEW YORK Heavy Combat Losses<div align="center">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSyew3vjhvPW_H6QnwenIieOArk7O9m_4y6sPXlgMSIvpLX6pgm3q_OHozQpNct2NYcpAZnxQfxTU4FCS_UO449UCBrgjnyUMZMWZ5A8Oc_XVS3-phK1DtrRQWEWFW6LfgL5-dIcCfpk/s1600/1966+Jan+Dan+and+Steve+Feliciano+Phu+Bai+2-1+CP.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSyew3vjhvPW_H6QnwenIieOArk7O9m_4y6sPXlgMSIvpLX6pgm3q_OHozQpNct2NYcpAZnxQfxTU4FCS_UO449UCBrgjnyUMZMWZ5A8Oc_XVS3-phK1DtrRQWEWFW6LfgL5-dIcCfpk/w393-h464/1966+Jan+Dan+and+Steve+Feliciano+Phu+Bai+2-1+CP.JPG" width="393" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Author (left) with Sgt. Steve
Feliciano </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="font-size: x-large;">January 1966: Phu Bai Marine Base Camp</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;"><b>(Home of 2nd Battalion, 1st Marines)</b></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Background:</b> Our Marine infantry battalion (<b>2<sup>nd</sup> BN,
1<sup>st</sup> Marines</b>) arrived in Vietnam in early
September 1965. Initially, we operated from off-shore on helicopter carriers (<b>SLF:</b> Special
Landing Force) until we came ashore in late December 1965 following <b><a href="https://www.usmcu.edu/Portals/218/In_Persistent_Battle.pdf"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Operation HARVEST MOON</span></a> (USMC Historical Record 58 pages .pdf)</b>. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This BN conducted intensive ground combat operations
until April 1971 when it returned to the United States. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The single worst day of my first tour:</b> The date
was Monday, February 28, 1966. It is still a melancholy date for me
each year, and yes, now 58 years later is a long time but that day for me and I'm
sure for many others still alive and as as fresh now as it was back then. It was on that exact same </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">day that I received my first wound – the first of
three wounds I would suffer during my two combat tours.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">During this operation, we would lose 18
Marines and one Navy Corpsman killed in action as well as numerous others
wounded (some 30 or so).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">All the reports I have read regarding OP NEW YORK say
that we killed over 200 North Vietnamese Army (NVA) soldiers who belonged to a
“fresh unit from North Vietnam that had just arrived in our area of operation”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Phu Bai was not too far south of North-South DMZ that
divided the two countries. Our battalion was in fact the most-northern
combat unit at the time. The NVA had been infiltrating from North
Vietnam and all intelligence reports indicated that they were planning to
attack us in our area, but as it turned out, we struck first.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We were slowly moving north towards the DMZ and would
end up fighting there in July 1966 during <b>Operation Hastings – </b>at that time it was the largest
combat operation. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">After that dreadful day, the last day in February and after very
intense battle, I was evacuated to the battalion aid station (BAS) down in Danang for
initial treatment, and from there many of us were flown out to the
joint hospital ship off shore: The <b>USS Repose (AH-8),</b> for more surgery,
treatment, recovery, and such. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I stayed on the Repose for about 40 days, and then I returned back to 2/1 mid-April 1966. Returning was a joyful time for me, being all
healed and ready for duty, but also finding out after I arrived back to Golf Company that I had been promoted to Staff Sergeant, effective on April 1,
1966. That was a big and pleasant surprise.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Here are the honored
names of those we lost on that dreadful day, February 28, 1966:<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">1. PFC Roger Bulifant, Belleville, MI, age:
18<br />
2. Cpl Henry “Sunny” Casebolt, St. Joseph, MO, age:
24 (later <b><span style="color: #0000cc;"><a href="https://valor.militarytimes.com/advanced-search?first_name=Henry%20&last_name=Casebolt&conflict=4&award=3"><span style="color: #0000cc;">awarded the Navy Cross</span></a></span></b>)<br />
3. PFC Warren Christensen, Hooper, UT, age: 19 <br />
4. LCpl Bill Foran, Decatur, IL, age: 20 (died of wounds the
next day) <br />
5. PFC Bill Fuchs, Milwaukee, WI, age: 20<br />
6. Cpl Charley Johnson, Batavia, IL, age: 21<br />
7. PFC Bob Knutson, Norfolk, VA, age: 21<br />
8. PFC Jim Laird, Davenport, IA, age: 21<br />
9. LCpl Larry MacDonald, Detroit, MI, age: 21<br />
10. SSgt Ed McCarthy, Chicago, IL, age: 37<br />
11. LCpl Andy McGuire, Chicago, IL, age: 23<br />
12. PFC Jim McLemore, Knoxville, TN, age: 23<br />
13. LCpl Mark Morgan, San Bruno, CA, age: 19<br />
14. PFC Miguel E. Naranjo, Pueblo, CO, age: 18<br />
15. PFC Richard Nugent, Westwood, NJ, age: 19<br />
16. LCpl Art Pederson, Minneapolis, MN, age: 19<br />
17. PFC Darrell Ray, Olympia, WA, age: 18 <br />
18. PFC Jose Torres, Sinton, TX, age: 21<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Our unit had held various ceremonies to remember all those
who died that day. I knew almost every one of them dating back to our time at
Camp Pendleton where we trained before deployment. They gave their all as
Marines are proud to say.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I told the story of Operation NEW YORK in my book, (linked on this page) which is
the story the fallen can never tell, so I have tried to tell it for them. This
is as best I remember that day and as I <b><span style="color: #0000cc;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Last-Ride-Home-Memoir-Vietnam-ebook/dp/B00MAO1XKK"><span style="color: #0000cc;">described in my book</span></a></span></b>.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">At the time, my old company, Fox Company, had a strength
that continued to dwindle right up to the end of February 1966. By
mid-February, I was reassigned from Fox Company to Golf Company (<b>1<sup>st</sup> Lt. <a href="https://www.usna.edu/Notables/commandants/1964krulak.php"><span style="color: #0000cc;"><span style="color: #0000cc;">Charles C. Krulak</span></span> </a>Commanding
Officer and later in his career he became Commandant and 4-star General)</b>. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Fox got beefed up when Marines from Fox 2/7 joined and became
part of Fox 2/1. My move to Golf was not unusual in those days due to NCO
shortages, and since I was a senior Sergeant, I took over a platoon in Golf
Company where they were short Sergeants and officers as well.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Operation New York </b>was one of those famous
quickly-named operations (not well-planned in advance with some fancy name and
lots of units lined up). The kind that was put together in a
short period of time, and usually when events went sour and employment was
needed quickly. Operation New York was no exception to that rule. At any given
time, there were always some major ARVN and PF (Popular Force) units operating
in and around our base at Phu Bai. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Since we were relatively new to that northern area and still
learning the terrain, the ARVN units worked closely with us to help us get to
know the area and lay of the land. The PF units were actually a raggedy bunch (more
like local militia than first rate Army units). They were not well-armed or well-equipped, but they bled and died like anyone else. I give them credit because they
tried hard, and we liked them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Late in the afternoon, reports started coming in about an ARVN unit
and a bunch of PF's who had engaged a large NVA unit just east of Phu Bai. We were
put on alert, which meant to “stand by” (I
hated to hear that word stand by). What it meant that we might have to go help
them or block for them on short notice. All day we prepared and waited and
waited and prepared all over again right until early that evening when it
looked like we'd have to wait and go the next day. We started settling down for
the night even as reports kept coming in.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I had actually just gone to sleep when around 2200 hours (10
pm) when I was shaken out of my cot and told: “We're mounting out.” Mounting out,
oh, shit I thought - damn, it’s nearly midnight. Midnight or not, we saddled up and moved to
the LZ (a huge empty sandy area where 'choppers would land, pick us up, and
head off to who knew knew). </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I remember thinking that we didn't get
much of a briefing except that we were told to expect more after we arrived at
the scene early in the morning. We loaded aboard <b>CH-46 choppers</b> and
took off. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We flew for about 20 to 30 minutes, and then we started
circling for what seemed like a very long time, then we started to descend into the LZ (Landing Zone). This landing as it turned out was a Marine Corps first and classic as we
later learned – the first night any infantry battalion was to attack
at midnight by helicopter.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span>The landing thank goodness was uneventful, although a bit scary. Two
CH-46's and Sea Stallions (the new, twin-rotor birds that replaced the old
single engine H-34's) hovered overhead with their huge landing lights shining
down below on the rice paddies as the rest of the 'choppers sat down and
dropped us off. That was the most part. </span>I imagined that if there were any NVA below, we would be sitting dead ducks
with all this illumination. All they would have to do is start shooting at the bottom of
the light and follow it up to the waiting birds like a step ladder. There they
were bound to get lucky and hit any one of us. Luckily it did not happen.
Things went very smoothly, actually to the surprise of everyone. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Maybe the NVA had seen us, got scared, and pulled out and ran away. We found out later that we actually hadn't landed very close to where
the fighting was in the first place. That meant we would have to hump there and
attack or block at daybreak. Here we go again – attack at dawn: The Marine
Corps way. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Ironically, our first night assault went off without a hitch, except
for missing a lot of sleep!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We assembled as fast as we could before the last bird flew
away taking the last of the light. It was pitch black and I mean pitch black.
You couldn't even see your hand in front of your face it was so dark. All we
could do was spread out, keep close as possible, set night watches, and try to
grab some sleep as best we could. Daylight was not far away.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">At first light, we wolfed down some C-rations; dry brushed
our teeth, pissed, and started saddling up. <b>Then came our new
orders: </b>“Sweep forward and help the ARVN and PF units as needed. They
would do the heavy lifting, we would support and block. End of orders.” Well,
that sounded simple enough. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We would block and shoot VC and NVA as they were
pushed toward us. Hey, no sweat, now maybe we could get revenge for Harvest
Moon. It all sounded easy enough, but I also knew these things sometimes turn
sour quickly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>I thought that the fighting this time would be on our
terms and not on their terms. But, wouldn’t you know it:</b> Murphy
dropped by and decided to screw up things only as Murphy can. He dropped off
one of his famous Murphy laws and totally whacked us! Murphy as everyone knows
always had plenty to say about changing events. Things like, “<b>If it can go
wrong, it will go wrong</b>.” Damn, you Murphy. At the time, I hated
remembering Murphy and for all he stood for. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We had moved about a thousand meters or so without any
resistance and without hearing any gunfire. Maybe the ARVN and PF units were
still asleep, or maybe the NVA and VC slipped away overnight. But, at the same
time, I kept thinking, where in the hell are the ARVN and PF units anyway?
Maybe the NVA and VC didn't slip out at night. Who needed so much help in the
first place? What's really going on here? We kept spread out and kept moving
forward. We were on line and just stopped facing a huge tree line 300-500 yards
ahead on the edge of the fairly dried out rice paddies. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Left to right we had Echo Company, then Hotel Company,
and then my Golf Company, and anchored on our far right flank was my old unit, Fox
Company. </b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">So, on that line we had four Marine rifle companies with
about 400 Marines lined up neat ready to block and kick some NVA ass as I’m
sure we all thought as the VN units pushed them towards us – the plan we had
been told. Lying there, smoking a cig and waiting for a very long time or so it seemed at the time. Still nothing, not a damn thing. Where were they? We heard no air or artillery
fire – nothing – eerie to say the least I remember thinking. We were just 400
Marine “grunts” waiting on God only knew what.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We were enjoying that smoke break when a single rifle shot
rang out up ahead. Everyone hit the deck. Then we looked around at each other
with the same question was on everyone's mind: “What the hell was that? What
did it mean? Who shot at whom?” Many of our eyes asked each other that same
question. What did it mean, if it meant anything? Was it a misfire, an
accidental discharge, or some kind of signal? No one said anything, we just
wondered collectively and stayed alert. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Slowly we got up and started to move slowly forward when the
whole damn place opened up in a hail of bullets. Well then knew where the enemy
was! Some of us hit the deck and started firing straight ahead, others started
running for cover. Many others just fell dead right where they stood. It looked
like another mess in the making. Marines all around were running and falling,
some dead, some wounded, others taking up firing positions. No one was
counting, but the numbers of those not moving seemed to be growing fast. I
raced forward only a few meters. Marines were falling all around me. I stopped,
hit the ground again and continued to fire straight ahead not knowing if my
fire was effective or not.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The enemy fire was intense and from all accounts, very
effective. I saw our choices go from slim to none in a flash. In retrospect, we
had several options: stop, get down and hope for the best; or get down, lay
there and probably get killed; or continue charging onward and die while taking
some of them with us; or, finally run like hell towards the enemy hoping not to die,
and if we made it, take as many of them with us before they took us out. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">None of those choices were good ones, but there was no time for debate. All
these thoughts went through my head in about one minute. Any choice, either
way, life and death looked like the only choices following any course of action
we chose. Thanks goodness, I didn't have to make a choice – it was made for
us. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Lying there for only a few minutes seemed like a lifetime,
and then I heard my Lieutenant, <b>Terry Moulton</b> (from New York
City), shout over on my left side.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Moulton leaped up on a paddy dike, pulled out his pistol and
K-bar knife and started screaming something at the time I wasn't quite sure
what. Then his words rang clear. “<b>Fuck this shit, let's go. Charge</b>!” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">My first thought was Moulton, you asshole, what the Hell are
you doing? But, it didn't matter what I thought, or what his words were.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We all seemed to be motivated about our predicament at the
same time. We leaped up and started charging and screaming at the top of our
lungs as we headed straight for the tree lines into the withering fire.
Something dramatically happened at the exact moment we started to rush the tree
line, the firing all stopped for a brief moment in time. It was as if shock hit
the NVA all at once and they panicked right there in their trenches as they saw
us screaming and charging straight at them. I know they were stunned because I
was stunned myself.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I continued running and shooting as fast I could while
dodging straight ahead. I wanted to take as many of them with me as possible
before they got me, because surely if I lay there, I was going to die and I thought today was my day on Earth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I glanced over and saw one of our platoon sergeants, a huge
Hawaiian, <b>SGT. Napoleon</b> (we all naturally called him
Pineapple). As soon as Moulton yelled, Pineapple also jumped up, pulled his
pistol, pointed to the tree line, and started screaming the most blood-curling
things I ever heard, but mostly in Hawaiian. I didn't understand a damn word of
what he was shouting, but I'm sure it was a “Hawaiian blue streak or something
plenty nasty.” Maybe that's why the enemy stopped firing for a brief moment.
But, that didn't last long. No sooner had he shouted at the NVA than they fired
at him and a bullet slit his right index finger.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">That was huge mistake, now he was one really pissed. He
started shouting and swearing and pointing all the while he looked around for
part of his finger tip. I don't think he found it, but he kept screaming anyway
and at the same time started his charge toward the tree line again and then the
rest of us joined in without a second thought. It was wild, complete madness
and aggressive. There were many stories about that day and about the way
we attacked that tree line under such heavy fire. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Apparently there had been an Army <b><span style="color: #0000cc;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cessna_O-1_Bird_Dog"><span style="color: #0000cc;">O-1 Bird Dog</span></a></span></b> spotter plane overhead with
an Army Major working as air and artillery controller, even though things were so close he
couldn't call in air support. I guess he tried several times to get air on
board, but couldn't. He was reported to have said he had never seen anything
like that in his entire life. Hundreds of screaming Marines racing across a
rice paddy with fixed bayonets rushing a tree line filled with machine guns and
NVA. He said it was right out of a war movie. The Marines, he was quoted as
saying were: “Magnificent, simply magnificent.” I think he was right about that
that day. We did do a good job, but it cost us dearly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">In retrospect, I don't know how long that charge actually
lasted, but it seemed like forever. Any amount of time in close combat seems
like an eternity in slow motion at times. At one point, we got very close to
the tree line and could see the enemy dashing back and forth, raising up to
shoot at us then ducking back down before raising up again like those pop up
targets you see at a carnival. Some of our Marines jumped in the NVA trenches
ahead of the rest of us and started hand-to-hand combat. They grabbed the NVA
by the head, neck, or throat and commenced to beat them to death with anything
they had in their hands. Some used their bayonets; others choked them to death
or beat them with their rifle butts. It was something right out of WW II –
something never experienced till that time. We were getting revenge for
the beatings months ago and especially during our bloodbath on Harvest
Moon. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">At one point, I managed to crawl up behind a Buddhist grave
where I could take up a good firing position. I continued picking off as many
as I could. Those graves are hard-packed mounds of dirt and sand, were anywhere
from 2-3 feet in diameter to slightly bigger. It provided a good firing
position, but not much cover and almost no concealment, but I didn't care; it fit
my need just fine at the time. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Suddenly I saw a NVA soldier jump up right in front me about
25 yards away and throw what looked like two or three hand grenades straight
toward me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Just as he threw them, he started to duck back down, but he
never made it. <b>Staff Sergeant Reed</b> from 1st Platoon mowed him
down with a Thompson machine gun he had managed to “borrow” from a Tank crew
member (the <i>Thompson was something the infantry guys didn't normally
carry</i>). Reed got him, but it too late. The NVA soldier got
several of us. He accomplished his mission just before he went off to wherever
NVA soldiers go off to. His two hand grenades got me and several others nearby.
One grenade landed between the legs of one of the Corpsman who was on my left.
I don't even remember his name, he was hurt real bad – and so was I.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I took pieces of shrapnel in my left thigh, left arm, left
shoulder, forehead, and left eye. Oddly enough at the time with all the
excitement and blast and noise from those hand grenades, I didn't even know I
was hit until as I was helping patch up the Doc, I noticed blood on my thigh. I
wiped it off, and as I did, I felt the pain in my leg. Then I felt the other
wounds as well, and then I realized that the blood on me was my own and not the
Doc's as I originally thought. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Funny how fear works in moments like that. I was seriously
wounded and didn’t even know it for a few minutes. After seeing the wounds, I
began to feel them. There wasn't a lot of pain, but still it hurt.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I
think I must have looked worse than I really was with the blood running down my
face and arm and hand. Then I saw my arm I felt that pain but not before. Then
it started to look bad with all the blood even to me. I started to worry
because I didn't know how bad I really was. I didn't know how many other places
I had been hit. I started to feel helpless. Then I thought, it doesn't matter.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I'm alive and that meant a great deal at the time. I got the
“million-dollar wound and I'm going home, I thought!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The question remained, how in the hell do I get out of here
and go home to enjoy my rebirth. That little matter would take some time
because we still up to our asses in NVA. The worst fighting continued to our
right for some time between Fox Company and the NVA. Their side turned out to
be the center of the main NVA force. Fox like so many other time, ended up in
lots of trouble and suffered lots of casualties. That day, Fox lost 14 killed,
and one WIA who died the next day, LCpl Bill Foran from Decatur, Illinois. Fox
also had the most wounded. In fact, Fox ended up with about 75% casualties.
Many of the wounded in Golf were serious wounds like the Doc and me; others
less serious. I could walk even with my multiple wounds — bad, but not
life-threatening.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Echo Company had one killed. Golf had no one killed and I
still can't figure that out with all the shit that was flying that day. Hotel
Company had one non-combat related death. Their First Sergeant died of a heart
attack in the heat of the battle. A couple of hours into the fighting things
actually slowed down. I didn't know if it was because we killed them all or if
they managed to run away to the rear, or were they regrouping and rearming to
counter attack? As it turned out, we had killed most of them, well over 200 it
was later confirmed (no estimates, real dead bodies). We had beaten the shit
out of two brand new NVA battalions. They had not even seen combat until that
day and we managed to kill most of them. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Two full NVA battalion-sized units hit us, and with only our
small arms, machine guns, knives, and bare hands we killed over 200 of
them. But, as I said, we paid a heavy price. Fox Company was wiped out,
virtually off the active duty rolls. Fox really hadn't been at full strength
since Operation Harvest Moon.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Now, with this operation they were finished. All that was
left was to convert them into one of those small CAC units a few days later.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">During the lull, Lt. Moulton ordered me from the battlefield
as the first wave of Medevac helicopters started arriving. I told him no, I was
staying and that I wasn't as bad as I looked. I didn't refuse to go because I
was a hero or anything like that. I wanted to stay and help clean up and kick a
few more NVA asses myself. Although it sounded both foolish and hateful, I
wanted revenge for Harvest Moon just like everyone else. Not only that, but I
saw a couple of the choppers take fire as they approached and I damn sure
didn't want to die in a fiery crash while getting lifted from the battle field,
so I said no, I'm staying because the ground at that point seemed safer than
being in the air. Moulton insisted and he told me to help with the wounded and
get “out of there, now.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I picked up the Doc and my gear and started crawling back to
where one of the birds was about to sit down. It landed safely and we piled on
and moved to the rear as others were trying to get on. We lifted off and as the
pilot was pulling the nose up and starting to turn toward what I guessed was
Phu Bai, when we took fire.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The pilot was hit, but no one else. Oddly enough, I had a
chance to meet him in a bar one night in Okinawa while I waiting to fly home
months later. His name was <b>1stLt. Brown</b>. He had been hit in the
upper thigh with the bullet lodging in his groin, and at the same time it
nicked a small piece off his penis. I asked him how he was doing and he said,
“Hey all my parts are working and I'm out here 'test firing' my gun” – he said
with a great big smile while holding a girl on each arm.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">As soon as I heard the rounds hitting our 'chopper, I became
more pissed at Lt. Moulton for making me get on the bird. I thought for sure I
was going to burn up in the 'chopper, but alas, it did not crash and did not
burn. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">In fact, after a few short bursts from the ground, Lt. Brown
got control and got us back to the rear. We landed safely at the Phu Bai BAS (<i>Battalion
Aid Station</i>). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Those of us not seriously wounded we whisked away to a tent
in the rear to await examination and patching up. I was lying there next to my
old fire team leader and good friend, <b>Cpl. Dave Goodwin</b> (from
Arizona) who had remained with Fox and was now a squad leader. Dave had been
hit by shrapnel too, but appeared to be okay. We both chatted like two old hens
at a tea party about who had been KIA or who had been WIA. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">As we talked, medics started bringing the dead in and
carrying them right by us to a temporary morgue in a rear tent. From there, I
had the chance to see the real damage – as our dead started coming in.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span>Thanks for remembering with me and thanks for stopping by
and never forg</span>et.</span><o:p></o:p></p></div></div>
Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-28888841860453390592023-08-21T22:45:00.000-04:002023-08-21T22:45:03.244-04:00August 23, 1966: Second Wound Rotating Home After 13 Months in Combat<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: x-large;">2nd Battalion, 1st Marines<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms";"><i><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;">(VN-era version)</span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 15.5pt;"><b><i><span style="color: #990000;"><br /></span></i></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 15.5pt;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggEEtqFOh_kNMTXiOV39kF_6eCkrlaUBI3lmKF7BLghGeJuJKmPg6uotMqh7XOoVwdiKAcmEL4axpQLvoTrvpBIp1KVJShhuJh66UgQWkeyRbntzu2XE67B5hCwLHSJ_dPP9tbyjseL30/s1600/VN+three+comrades+in+arms.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="481" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggEEtqFOh_kNMTXiOV39kF_6eCkrlaUBI3lmKF7BLghGeJuJKmPg6uotMqh7XOoVwdiKAcmEL4axpQLvoTrvpBIp1KVJShhuJh66UgQWkeyRbntzu2XE67B5hCwLHSJ_dPP9tbyjseL30/s320/VN+three+comrades+in+arms.jpg" width="266" /></a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms";"><i><span style="font-size: x-large;">Comrades in Arms</span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-large;"><p class="MsoNormal">I wanted to share this story as I concluded my first year in
Vietnam — it is as fresh today as it was then now 57 years ago. That is long
time in history, but the event of that day is still still fresh in my mind as it happened at that time. Some memories of
war fade and we tend to lose a few minute details, but overall, the big picture - the key events always linger - they never totally go away - this event never has.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Such is the case on that date when the last group of Marines I served with killed in action (KIA) on that date, which was shortly before I was scheduled to leave after my full year there and happened to be the date I got wounded a second time.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Those three fine men <b>*named below and who are forever </b>listed on Panel 9E, Rows 74 and 107, and Panel 10E, Rows
23, 29, and 32 on the VN Memorial Wall in Washington, DC died on that day. One was <a href="http://www.vvmf.org/Wall-of-Faces/18758/KENNETH-L-GLAZE"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">SSgt. Ken
Glaze, from Hutchinson, KS</span></b></a>. </p><p class="MsoNormal">He had just joined unit: Golf Company, 2nd BN, 1st Marines. He had been assigned to take my place as Platoon Commander,
since we didn't have any officers for a very long time and that task fell to senior NCO's like Ken and myself and I was ready to rotate back to CONUS after a very long 13 months in VN. He had only been
in the unit for a few days before he was killed. That second wound got me out a few days early, too.</p><p class="MsoNormal">As I said, Ken had been reassigned to Golf Company only a few
days before, and since I was scheduled to rotate home. I didn’t know for sure
how long he had been in VN on his tour, or whether he even had come from another unit, because quite frankly I didn't have a chance to know
him very well before he was killed, but I did know it was his second tour in VN.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He and the two others in our company killed that day were
killed by a series of landmines: two mines for sure, maybe there had been three,
or perhaps even four - we weren't sure at the time how many.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>The two other Marines killed beside Ken that fateful day were: </b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><a href="http://www.vvmf.org/Wall-of-Faces/19944/PHILLIP-H-GREGO" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">PFC Phil
Grego, from Council Bluffs, IA</span></b></a><b> </b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><a href="http://www.vvmf.org/Wall-of-Faces/54341/CLIFTON-M-WALTER" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">PFC Cliff
Walter, from Erie, PA</span></b></a> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>We were very lucky more weren't killed that horrible day. This is
how the events unfolded: <o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Ken had been out leading one of our early morning patrols around the company area, and he had just returned with a few others and a small group was behind them also on their way in. </p><p class="MsoNormal">That small group was only a few
hundred yards in front of the CP (<i>Command Post</i>) as they were sweeping through
an old cemetery area out front. They were so close that some of guys shouted at them to
hurry up and come in and get some hot chow. Then kapow, boom, boom...!!!
Two very loud explosions.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Ken was the first to grab a couple of Marines nearby and
dash out to the site. I followed him along with two of our Navy Corpsmen.
Mine explosions, or in fact, any kind of explosion, tend to be really nasty. As Marines, we were trained and taught that if there was one mine, or a booby trap, be careful, you can be 100% sure there would be more
nearby. That day was no exception to that savvy old Engineer Golden Rule. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I had no sooner arrived on the scene than I saw Ken bending
over the wounded helping patch their wounds. It appeared that no one was dead,
but I could see we had at least three were seriously wounded. I don't
know exactly what happened next, but one of the wounded stood up and started to
move away from the others. I yelled at him: “<i>Don't move, don't move,
get down</i>!” I had no sooner gotten those words out when another huge blast
hit us. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We were consumed by the heat, metal, flames, and shrapnel.
He had triggered a second mine. The air was filled with black smoke and powder and
screams. The smell was awful. Pieces of metal tore into me as well. It had been what we called a “<b><i>Bouncing Betty</i></b>” – that is the kind of mine that when stepped on
would actually bounce up in the air some 3-4 feet and explode cutting down anyone
standing nearby – they were very deadly.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Apparently the VC or NVA had seen our guys burying them some
time ago and dug them up for their own use. Plus, they were good and figuring
out our patrol routes knew where to plant our mines for the most
damage against us. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Another thing the enemy would do was to modify the mines and
make them “<i><b>command denoted</b></i>” (<b>that is one or two of the enemy would lie in the
brush and then explode them remotely as we entered their kill zone</b>) then they would trigger them in an elaborate ambush. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Our dead and wounded now covered a wider radius, and sadly
one or two forgot that Engineer golden rule that day: <b>One mine means
another or more would be nearby. We paid a heavy price. </b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A mere few minutes after I arrived and while our Docs were
patching up the wounded, and a few minutes before the second mine went off, our
Company Gunnery Sergeant (<i>GySgt. Wilson</i>) was arriving with a few other
Marines to assist. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I saw them and yelled at Wilson and told him and
the others to get back and stay back and not come any closer and that we had
the situation under control since they were getting too close. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wilson overruled me and acted like an ass since he
was senior to me and I was a newly-promoted Staff Sergeant. It didn't matter at
the time, or maybe he just wanted to throw around his rank I never knew or
cared at the time. His group kept coming closer. Then boom; another mine went
off, and then just as suddenly, someone got up to move, and another went off (<i>at
that point I had lost count of how many three or four probably in all</i>)! <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Ken Glaze and the other Marine, one of the three killed,
apparently had triggered the mine and both were killed instantly. One of the
previously wounded (<i>I think it may have been Phil Grego</i>) was killed as
he lay there getting patched up from his first wound. I was hit and so
were several others including one of the Docs nearby. I had been hit in the
forehead, right shoulder, and left thigh, and I was lucky. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">None of my wounds as it turned out were life-threatening,
although the forehead bled a lot and hurt the most and looked the worst, but
luckily it was not serious. I had been lucky because I had been crouching
down helping a wounded Marine when the mine blew so I made a much smaller
target than those who were standing like Ken and the others and they were killed instantly, and didn't suffer. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">One minute they were standing there and the next they were
gone. We probed around for more mines and not finding any, we started to clean
up the area and move the dead and wounded back to the perimeter as 'choppers
started to arrive to pick up the dead and wounded.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I came face-to-face with Gunny Wilson back at
the CP talking to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_C._Krulak"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Captain Charles C.
Krulak</span></b></a><b> </b>(<i>Golf Company commander at the time</i>) about
what exactly happened. Wilson kept trying to clean up the story to fit his
own agenda; whatever that was I wasn't sure. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Once or twice, I came close to grabbing him by the throat
and beating the shit out of him over what had happened because I was angry that
he would pull rank on me, even when I was right when I told all of them all to
stay back and not to come closer. He was wrong and it cost us dearly. He
kept trying to show that he was in control and that the others had somehow were
wrong. Wilson was wrong, It was he who f**ked up but he wouldn't admit it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He was not obligated to explain to Krulak and others what
had happened, yet he kept leaving out the part where I told him and the others
to stay back. Although I was only a Staff Sergeant and he out ranked me, he
persisted in his story version. I was in fact a platoon commander (<i>an
officer's position since we were short officers</i>) and actually had more pull
than he did – but, he didn't care.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Well, that was my second wound, and I had only a week left
on my normal one-year rotation, so Captain Krulak ordered me to the rear and
our BAS (<i>Battalion Aid Station</i>). <b>He told me to get patched up, stay there, and get ready to
go home: </b>“<i>You stay there and get ready to go home next week, your tour is
over</i>.” </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I think he did it for Wilson's sake more than for mine.
I could have gotten patched up and stayed in the field another week or so, and
thus I guess it didn't matter. It was clear Krulak didn't want me anywhere near Wilson. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I flew out of VN and returned home on September 6,
1966. My first tour of duty was over after nearly 13 months of nearly
daily combat operations.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">However, I would be back in VN in November 1968 for a second
tour with the 1st Battalion, 7th Marines, operating in nearly in the same area. </p><p class="MsoNormal">However, then I would be a brand new 2nd Lt. (<i>my former Golf commander was now Major Krulak, and he had recommended me for a
direct commission, and he helped me get it</i>). So, the NVA and VC would be getting a another chance at me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Those three Marines killed will never be forgotten. God bless them
and may they R.I.P. They earned a spot in heaven the hard way. </p></span></div>
</div>
Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-53964658401230668322023-05-25T13:34:00.007-04:002023-05-25T13:41:47.804-04:00VN Memorial Day 1966: Heavy Combat & Dreadful Day for 2nd BN, 1st Marines <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: x-large;">We Must Never Forget</span></div>
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<i style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;">(It is
our soul, our fabric, who we are)</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 15.5pt;"><i><b><span style="color: #990000;"><br /></span></b></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Each year I reflect
back and remember the awful chain of events on that Memorial Day in 1966. I also wrote about them in my book here <b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Last-Ride-Home-Memoir-Vietnam-ebook/dp/B00MAO1XKK"><span style="color: blue;">Last
Ride Home</span></a> </b>(<i>Updated on Kindle</i>). Those events follow as
best I recall, and they are still as fresh as ever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span>Background to the Event:</span></b><span> There was an interlude between <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_New_York"><b>Operation NEW
YORK </b></a><b> </b>(<i>February 28, 1966 which also was the day
I was first wounded and evacuated for 45 days before returning to duty in April 1966</i>),
and <b><a href="http://1stbn4thmarines.net/operations/history-folder/jay.htm">Operation
JAY</a></b> <span style="font-family: times;">(<i>just</i> </span><i><span style="font-family: times;">South of ancient Capitol City of Hue </span></i></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #202122;"><i>from 25 June to 2 July 1966</i></span><b>).</b> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">We were told to continue conducting small unit
patrols (<i>squad and platoon level</i>) to “<i>sweep the
villages</i>”<b> </b>and keep our edge sharp and basically to fill the gap
between those two operations as we continued to move more and more northward
towards the DMZ and eventually that led to <b><a href="http://libertyyes.homestead.com/Operations/Operation-Hastings-1966.htm">Operation
HASTINGS</a></b> (<i>the biggest of the war at that time</i>) during July-August 1966.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">On one of those “sweeps” that ended for me and
my platoon was on that Memorial Day in May 1966. We had just finished a couple
days of patrolling in a nearby village east of our battalion temporary HQ
located along Highway 1 just North of Hue. This highway led right into the
most-northern provinces, which further led into the DMZ, and then into
North Vietnam.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">We were packed up and were ready to pull out of
the village and trade places with another platoon on their way to relieve us
and also from Golf Company (<i>Platoon Sergeant, SSgt. John Gaines, who was a
very good friend of mine</i>). I had been in radio contact with Gaines over the
company radio net all morning briefing him. We exchanged information about the
village and what was going on back at battalion. I told John what we had done
and what we had seen and had not seen, namely no NVA and not much else to report for him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Then I told him to be careful moving in from the
direction he was moving in from because our look out had seen some
movement up and around our positions earlier in the morning, but that I didn't know what to make of it, but be careful and remain alert. Gaines said Roger, thanked me, and said he would relay the info to his Lieutenant. That was
that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span>My platoon had no officer, so </span><span>I was acting commander
and had been since January 1966, right after </span><b><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://www.mca-marines.org/leatherneck/harvest-moon">Operation HARVEST
MOON</a> </span></b><span>when we
came ashore for permanent duty for the rest of that year. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">We had just pulled out of the village and
started up a long dusty road leading back to the battalion perimeter, which was
some 2,000 yards ahead of us. Then once again, as before, my point Marine
spotted a group of NVA moving across our path what looked like the same path
Gaines and his platoon would be coming down that led into the same village we
had just left. I got back on the radio and called for artillery and mortar fire
on them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">The fire was effective because after we reached
the spot where our rounds had hit, we found numerous body parts and some NVA
combat gear - but that was it. I initially thought we had spoiled their plans,
so I passed that information along to Gaines. I told him we had hit them
but that I didn't know if it was the front or rear or any size unit. Then I
reminded him one more time to be very alert. I told him where we had seen them
and the direction they were heading, but didn't know much beyond that. He
acknowledged my advice and again said: “<i>Roger, I'll tell the actual
(his lieutenant), thanks, out</i>.” His radio went silent. We continued on
our route back to the battalion CP.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">We had no sooner returned to the perimeter and
started dropping our gear, when a call for help came across the battalion radio from Gaines' platoon. Almost at once, we could hear mortar and machine fire
coming from the village we had just left. It seems that our Battalion's Echo Company, that also had been moving back to the CP, was ordered back to to the same village to assist Gaines and his
platoon in the village who appeared to be in deep trouble.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">One of Echo's platoons was led by Staff Sergeant
(later promoted to Gunnery Sergeant<b>)</b> Jim MacKenna. Off they charged into
the village from the southwest side as Gaines was on the northeast side.
I don't know exactly what happened in between the two platoons, but it turned
out to be a mess. While all that was going on, my platoon was ordered to saddle
up and get ready to move back into the area and provide support.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">We did end up going back in after things seemed
to have settled down, about two hours later. Then the battle damage assessment
started coming in over the radios. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>It was awful news:</b> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Echo Company had eight Marines
killed, including Jim MacKenna, with half a dozen wounded. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">In Golf Company, John Gaines was alive, but he
had lost 13 in his platoon. Included in his count were many left over
from the original Fox Company that I had served with and knew quite well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span>One of those losses was especially hard for most of us.</span></b><span> That was the loss was
Lance Corporal Billy Joe Holt (Cameron, TX). He was probably the best machine
gunner in Fox Company who had been trained by Frank Pruitt. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span>Also killed along with Holt were</span></b><span>: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol";">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span>Dave Brandon, Lake Oswego, OR<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol";">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span>Gordy Briggs, Seattle, WA<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol";">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span>Jim Briles, Portland, OR <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol";">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span>Tom Britton, Great Neck, NY<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol";">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span>R. B. Marchbanks, Moriarty, NM </span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">The other seven killed were new and had just joined Golf from other units that I hardly had a chance to
know them very well. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">With those losses it just about wiped out the original Fox
Company ever since we had arrived in VN from Camp Pendleton back in September
1965. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I had a chance to meet up and talk to John
Gaines later about what had happened. He told me he had relayed my info to his
lieutenant and my warning, but that the lieutenant didn't seem to have cared or
didn't believe our report. John said that his Lt. always did things his own way and
seldom listened to the NCO's. Unfortunately, the lieutenant paid a heavy price
for that style of arrogance. He was shot two or three times in his back and
buttocks, but he lived. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span><b><span>As best as we all could piece together what
happened was this: </span></b></span><span>A larger group of NVA had slipped into the
village from another direction and were unseen by anyone, even as my platoon
was heading the other direction. They apparently were not part of ones I had
called fire on earlier. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span>The NVA managed to set up a very elaborate “<i>Horseshoe shaped</i></span><span>”</span><b> </b><span> ambush in and around the
village and along the trail that Gaines was entering in on. When Gaines and his
platoon got in the center of the ambush site, the NVA opened up and hit them from three sides. There was no escape. The NVA had a turkey shoot. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Then as Echo Company
entered from the rear of the horseshoe ambush and unbeknownst to them, they too
entered the trap and were cut to ribbons.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Not only was the day bad for the number of our
losses, both killed and wounded, but the fact that it was on Memorial Day, and
after a thorough sweep of the village area we found only one dead NVA soldier.
Whether there were more that had been dragged away or hidden we never found out
- that was the NVA's style: To never leave traces of their losses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">We did find plenty of NVA machine gun cartridges
and different firing positions all around. That indicated that they had had a
large and strong force. Most of them slipped out just as easily as they slipped
in during the mass confusion. The NVA won a big victory that day. They lost
only one soldier that we knew about, but we had lost 20 Marines. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The lesson was
simple:</b> One young Lieutenant didn't listen to their seasoned sergeant
and they paid a heavy price.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span>In the whole mess, one hero did stand out,
however.</span></b><span> That was Lance
Corporal Paul McGee, also left over from Fox Company. Paul was a classic
Marine, great in the field and in tactics but a real clown in garrison, and everyone liked him despite his clowning and other shortcomings because he was just plain
likable.</span><span> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Paul was shot three times that day and each time
the NVA shot him, he got madder and fought harder especially after he saw Billy
Holt killed since they had been the best of friends. Gaines said McGee went
nearly berserk when he saw Billy Joe killed as he fired on the NVA. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">McGee was wounded pulling Holt back from where
he had fallen. No one could confirm for sure, but indications are that McGee
alone killed a dozen NVA by himself while being shot in the leg, chest, and
thigh. The NVA were notorious for not leaving any of their dead on the
battlefield as I said so that count remained unknown. I figure that day they
employed their best plan that included removing or hiding all their dead - and
it worked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Paul McGee was awarded a Silver Star for his
actions that day. I wish I had seen his acts so I could have written him up for
something higher. I'm sure he deserved it. As I have said before, the Marine Corps
was very stingy on their awards in the early days of the war. That stinginess
would stay with us for years. We all knew it, but accepted that fact of life
nevertheless as we did our duty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span>We moved on a few days later - going towards the
DMZ and <b><a href="https://libertyyes.homestead.com/Operations/Operation-Hastings-1966.htm"><span style="color: blue;">Operation
HASTINGS</span></a> </b>which would be worse – far worse. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Our losses on that sad Memorial Day, Sunday, May 30, 1966
(* VN time zone) are listed on the “Vietnam Wall” in Washington, DC. Their names are there forever. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><u>Full Name; Rank; Age; Hometown</u>: </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">ALDON ASHERMAN, (Navy), HM3, 20, Towanda, PA</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">DAVID BRANDON, PFC, 19, Lake Oswego, OR </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">GORDON M. BRIGGS, PFC, 19, Seattle, WA</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">JAMES W. BRILES, PFC, 20, Portland, OR </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">THOMAS BRITTON, PFC, 19, Great Neck, NY </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">ROBERT A. CORKILL, LCpl, 20, San Benito, TX </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">RICHARD E. CROWE, LCpl, 20, Long Beach, CA </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">JAMES R. HEATH, LCpl, 19, Bala Cynwyd, PA </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">BILLY J. HOLT, LCpl, 21, Cameron, TX </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">DAVID W. JOHNSTON, PFC, 19, Tucson, AZ </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">JAMES J. MACKENNA, SSgt, 37, Denver, CO </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">R. B. MARCHBANKS JR, PFC, 23, Moriarty, NM </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">JERRY L. NOLAND, LCpl, 19, Houston, TX </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">ERNEST G. PAUL, PFC, 22, Concord, NH </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">RONALD RALICH, PFC, 19, Lorain, OH </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">ROY J. RICHARD, PVT, 19, Lafayette, LA </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">EDWARD C. SEXTON, PFC, 23, New Buffalo, MI </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">WALTER B. STEVENS, Sgt, 25, San Diego, CA </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">JAMES H. STEWART, PFC, 19, Columbus, OH </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">CHARLES E. WALKER, LCpl, 22, Magnolia, AR</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">KENNETH W. WICKEL, Cpl, 21, West Lawn, PA</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Thanks for stopping by and never forget. <o:p></o:p></p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left;"><br /></div>
</div>
Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-83878430973245683502022-12-10T16:02:00.002-05:002022-12-10T16:07:03.626-05:00Vietnam: December 10, 1965: Operation Harvest Moon Sad Memories Linger<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: x-large;">2nd BN, 1st Marines, 1st Marine Division </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: x-large;">Loading for ride into Hell</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: x-large;">USS Valley Forge (LPH-8)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms";"><b><i><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;">(Platform for that fateful day)</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: x-large;">Under heavy fire in rice paddies </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms";"><b><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;"><i>(Lasted 10 miserable hours)</i></span></b></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span>I publish this story of my personal account and vivid memories of
being in those cold wet rice paddies during OPERATION Harvest Moon, which
lasted from December 10-20, 1965 every year at this time to tell the story for those who did not return to tell theirs. </span><span>This tells the story of what
happened <b>57 years ago. </b>That's a long time ago I know, but we must never forget. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span>It
was our first big major operation. The photo above depicts those rice
paddies where we laid for over 10 hours while under constant enemy fire. </span><span>As I said, it was cold, wet, and muddy not only for me and my
infantry squad part of 1</span><sup>st</sup><span> Platoon, Fox Company, 2nd Battalion,
1st Marines, but for everyone else involved during that operation. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span>For such a
long time that day (December 10th) no one could support us or even get to us — we
were unable to move and withdrew to higher dry ground for over 10 hours while
under heavy rifle, machine gun, and mortar fire from Hill 407 that was to our direct front high ground. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The day started early as most combat operations do – at about 5 or
6 am. We were to land by helicopters flying off the USS Valley
Forge (LPH-8). Little did we know at the time that we would face a
vastly superior North Vietnamese and VC force, who on the high ground would shoot at us like fish in the proverbial barrel as we landed and afterwards for hours as we lay pinned down in the rice paddies. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">At the end of that horrible, bloody day, we had suffered 20 dead and about
80 wounded across all units involved. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I lost two Marines in my 14-man squad that day: <b>LCpl. Barry Sitler
(Compton, CA)</b> who was killed in action soon after we landed while protecting our rear, and <b>PFC Bill
Stocker (from Boulder, CO)</b> who was badly wounded. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I also lost my Platoon
Commander who was badly wounded, <b>1st Lt. Charlie George, </b>and our Platoon Guide, and very good friend of mine, <b>Sgt. Bob Hickman (Wheeling, WV)</b> who was killed
in action.<b><br />
</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>More details on this operation can be found at these several places:</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">1. From my book <b><span><span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/1693846650430646809/4248879853099381139"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Last Ride Home</span></a><span style="color: blue;"> </span></span></span></b>now available from Amazon kindle. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">2. From <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/1693846650430646809/4248879853099381139"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">links</span></b></a> where firsthand accounts are. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span>3. From the </span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/1693846650430646809/4248879853099381139"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Marine Corps magazine Leatherneck here</span></b></a><span>.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">4. From Ohio State University (<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/1693846650430646809/4248879853099381139"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">eHistory</span></b></a>) (our unit's story starts on
page 106 at that site).</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><u>Remembering one key event</u></b><b>: </b><span>It happened on the second day of Operation on </span><b>December 11, 1965</b><span> as we were humping up
Hill 407 where we had received so much fire from the day before. As we passed
through some heavy shrubs, my mind drifted back to my youthful days and concord
grape vines I used to try to pick from my grandmother’s back yard
(before she caught and chased me away).</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Suddenly, my daydreaming was broken when someone yelled,
“Grenade!” Everyone started diving off the trail and ducking for whatever cover
they could find, or just stopping and dropping on the ground. Then all of a
sudden right in front of me rolling straight down the trail towards my feet was
a hand-grenade. In a split second as they say, my whole life flashed before my
eyes yet my first thought was to also duck and seek cover or try to run away as fast
as possible, but that was not an option at the moment. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I remember thinking: “<i>Was it was a VC hand-grenade, or a booby
trap.” I didn't </i>know for certain and I had no time to find out. I needed to
act fast. In an instant that all went through my mind and nothing seemed to
matter so without a single thought clearly in my head, or any thought at all I
guess, I reached down and grabbed the grenade and turned to throw it as far away
and as quickly as possible. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Then at that precise moment I saw that it was one of our hand grenades, but, it
had no firing mechanism in place. It was missing, but the grenade was still intact. In reality, there was no way it could have ever exploded without the
firing pin. What the hell was going on I thought? </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">As it turned out, it had
fallen off some Marine’s cartridge belt who was up ahead of us in the column.
In those early days of the war safety was paramount and we carried
them carefully for quick access (<i>in fact sometimes we were told to tape 'em
shut for safety</i>). </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">So, as it happened that one came unscrewed from the Marine's best, </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">dropped to the ground, and rolled down hill to my feet. The missing firing mechanism and pin obviously were still hanging from his belt and he didn’t even know it
had fallen off.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Everyone around me had a good laugh when they saw what was
really happening. There I stood holding a “dud.” I must have looked silly
standing there with a grenade in my hand ready to throw it, and with a shitty
look on my face, not even knowing it would never explode. That
was a first for me and I hoped it would be the last. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">That day someone broke the rules because the one I picked up had no tape on it
and thus a Marine, someone I never knew who, had disregarded the
rules and that could have cost me and a few others dearly had it gone
off. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">That moment in time passed along with the short-lived danger. We moved up the hill hunting and pursuing the enemy. Once again, I
thought how lucky I was, but in a very odd way. Lady luck was right there
beside me, but I wondered, for how long she’d stick around? </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">All in all, I
wanted to share that memory and the rest of the story as I do every December for
the sole purpose of remembering those we lost who can never come home and
tell their stories. So, I tell the story for them. It is my honor and duty and
pleasure to present the story and remind everyone to never forget them. I never
will. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span><b><span style="color: #990000;">Note:</span> </b>Our Fox company commander at the time was <b>Captain Jim Page</b> was shot
through chest and marked as KIA. Later that night after we had managed to pull
back to safe ground, our Navy Corpsmen were retagging our dead since the rain
has washed a lot of information off their body tags. <b>One Corpsman retagging Captain Page screamed and
leaped back yelling: </b></span>“<i>He's alive, he’s alive.” </i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">In fact, he was alive. He had been declared dead for over 10 hours. Talk about a miracle … He would go on to serve and retire as a Marine Lt. Col. (<i>he is pictured below in the back row
with red, white, and blue tie - </i>I am seated front row right side). </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>He lived in retirement in Florida until he
passed away in June 2020 (age 91).</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQI7uvoUOkQfQhRBcdcrrhqsnhC7FVgpUReP0xBGmJcJN8BLCbIdc2neVxGbFjsS6S5YW3-0deh0ddAxiZtbKIy8tXZFaOeRxaNuiXzgdEcTKAsGshEXsBL0X5bAuPGZVzfY4C3oPrGO8/s550/2004+2-1+Reunion+Washington+DC.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="372" data-original-width="550" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQI7uvoUOkQfQhRBcdcrrhqsnhC7FVgpUReP0xBGmJcJN8BLCbIdc2neVxGbFjsS6S5YW3-0deh0ddAxiZtbKIy8tXZFaOeRxaNuiXzgdEcTKAsGshEXsBL0X5bAuPGZVzfY4C3oPrGO8/s16000/2004+2-1+Reunion+Washington+DC.jpg" /></span></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>My unit (Fox Company) losses that first day </b><i>(all on December 10,
1965 except as one noted below</i><b>):</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">1. PFC Robert L.
Craft, Salt Lake City, UT, age: 18</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">2. PFC Mike Crannan,
Canoga Park, CA, age: 18</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">3. PFC Ron Cummings,
Stockton, CA, age: 18</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">4. SGT Bob Hickman,
Wheeling, WV, age: 36</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">5. PFC Joe Moreno,
Austin, TX, age: 18</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">6. CPL Les
Puzyrewski, Chicago, IL, age: 19</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">7. LCpl Barry J.
Sitler, Compton, CA, age: 20</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">8. Cpl Lloyd
Vannatter, Ettrick, VA, age: 25</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">9. Cpl Jim Brock,
Cleveland, OH, age: 23</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">10. LCpl Acie Hall,
Lake City, TN, age: 22</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">11. PFC John Wilson,
St. Paul, MN, age: 21</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">12. PFC Larry Tennill,
Slater, MO, age: 18</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">13. LCpl Dennis
Manning, St. Clair Shores, MI, age: 19 (</span><i style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">shot and died the following day on December 11).</i></span></p></div>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span><b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: #990000;">Lest We Forget…</span></b><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></b></span>
<b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></b>Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-53648714675596441732022-12-04T14:57:00.002-05:002022-12-04T14:57:43.265-05:00Sunday, Dec 7, 1941: A Date That Will Live in Infamy - Japan Attacks Pearl Harbor<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ4lE9Z2oK8rs5ak0aNIGsZ9c8yr-eu-Taf3RdXE7DR0pq9ShWWPjESJ9tzzUxL0Gg3Q1dmsdVlWvpR9PKmyk3EcN-Vp8hu6uE8rHH8lSQmhc_igFfc7LhDcGiUFChD5_EjIYo-dOIX9A/s550/Pearl+Habor+I.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="316" data-original-width="550" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ4lE9Z2oK8rs5ak0aNIGsZ9c8yr-eu-Taf3RdXE7DR0pq9ShWWPjESJ9tzzUxL0Gg3Q1dmsdVlWvpR9PKmyk3EcN-Vp8hu6uE8rHH8lSQmhc_igFfc7LhDcGiUFChD5_EjIYo-dOIX9A/s16000/Pearl+Habor+I.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="font-size: x-large;">7:55 AM, Sunday, December 7, 1941</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoIg4FtuwxyxqbBG9aJSrRl1xc0G-vlN8yxoG7y7xPcFUNoa8k5b-1-aNKwWrDZd3oVxVxl8MO-2tfMc7UMEV_3EjtrfsUYXYWrcIYwT0r_yCJ6KIb-el_vkHSa2bBKnBVzEJhcWoTLj4/s550/Pearl+Harbor+II.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="295" data-original-width="550" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoIg4FtuwxyxqbBG9aJSrRl1xc0G-vlN8yxoG7y7xPcFUNoa8k5b-1-aNKwWrDZd3oVxVxl8MO-2tfMc7UMEV_3EjtrfsUYXYWrcIYwT0r_yCJ6KIb-el_vkHSa2bBKnBVzEJhcWoTLj4/s16000/Pearl+Harbor+II.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Major Navy Ships Sunk or Heavily
Damaged</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>(USS Arizona Most Sailor Losses)</i></b></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Remember next Wednesday December 7, 2022 when that event, now 81 years ago, on Sunday
morning, December 7, 1941 at 7:55 am when our Naval Fleet at Pearl Harbor,
Hawaii was attacked by Japan.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><a href="https://www.navyhistory.org/2019/12/the-attack-on-pearl-harbor-december-7-1941/">Excellent
Naval history source here</a></b>. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Below is President Roosevelt delivering his famous and dramatic
speech to the full Congress the very next day when he asked them to declare a
Declaration of War between the United States and Empire of Japan.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/pYE2I9RcvEE" width="320" youtube-src-id="pYE2I9RcvEE"></iframe></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Lest we forget.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Thanks for stopping by.<o:p></o:p></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><br /><p></p>Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-35285024108615619482021-06-24T20:23:00.001-04:002021-07-31T11:45:56.504-04:00Marine Corps Combat History Vietnam War "OPERATION JAY" June 25-26, 1966<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgthNL2n3OvmiCALGtZYrl94EkpGOMs-NsJLEagIErYOE8aAJlW0eAw9XTboIedqnpFdRiuEPY-SXdVtv2NG1Mad04xplw5BjGunyuqIxMVSIEAHpAmaloHrq15kYQ5necwF7S8yfemM4/s1600/VN+Wall.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgthNL2n3OvmiCALGtZYrl94EkpGOMs-NsJLEagIErYOE8aAJlW0eAw9XTboIedqnpFdRiuEPY-SXdVtv2NG1Mad04xplw5BjGunyuqIxMVSIEAHpAmaloHrq15kYQ5necwF7S8yfemM4/w400-h264/VN+Wall.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Etched in Granite Forever R.I.P.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span><i><span style="font-size: x-large;">(At the Vietnam Wall)</span></i><b style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzoyUTU-Gj1-ISwNMB1MmciCoFOIOmsKS4MRnlGhxbMArZLpTWI48Rta8AnRM5IFn-PzzfZa5GfEZreWWKQpWnchdKeSNkgGRzF2o31cM3mp8B7b9so6zw2ZDzbVItnYRhliCVr4C8u78/s1600/Three+Soldies+VN+Park.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzoyUTU-Gj1-ISwNMB1MmciCoFOIOmsKS4MRnlGhxbMArZLpTWI48Rta8AnRM5IFn-PzzfZa5GfEZreWWKQpWnchdKeSNkgGRzF2o31cM3mp8B7b9so6zw2ZDzbVItnYRhliCVr4C8u78/w400-h300/Three+Soldies+VN+Park.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Three Soldiers Vietnam War Era<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span><i><span style="font-size: x-large;">(On Duty Always Alert)</span><o:p style="font-size: 14pt;"></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span><i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><p class="MsoNormal">Another group of Marines that
I served with and who were killed from 2/1 are laid to rest and their names
forever are identified on “Panel 8E, Rows 90, 91, 94, 95, 97, and 99” on the VN
Wall in Washington, D.C. with their places in military history forever. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Those
fine men all died in ugly up close combat on June 25 and 26, 1966 during OPERATION Jay.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">That operation place just south of the ancient capital
city of Hue — the the same city that would be nearly totally destroyed in the 1968 North Vietnamese TET (New Year) offensive. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;"><b>Those we lost on those two days are:<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>KIA on Saturday, June 25, 1966</u>:</b> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Miller J. Bourg, Age 21, Houma, LA.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Cecil E. Daw, Navy HN, Age 20, Anacoco, LA.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Robert R. Eggleston, Age 36, LA, CA.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Gerald V. Eppley, Age 21, Newark, OH.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Ronald L. Herbstritt, Age 19, Bradford, PA.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bruno L. Martin, Age 19, Wayne, MI.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">David E. Reyner, Age 21, Houston, TX.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Santos Sanchez, Age 23, Selma, CA.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Richard L. Strange, Sgt, Age 25, Richmond, VA.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Melvin E. Taylor, Age 20, Paterson,
NJ.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;"><b><u>KIA on Sunday, June 26, 1966</u>:</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">James Coleman, Jr., Cpl, Age 22, Jacksonville, FL.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">John M. Risner, PFC, Age 19, Las Cruces,
NM.<b><o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">That action occurred as we were moving more north toward North Vietnam and
just before we were to move into the DMZ and be part of the largest operation in VN at
the time: Code name OPERATION Hastings during July and August 1966. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">During this operation, my newly-assigned platoon sergeant was then SSgt. Robert Cleary
(he was promoted to Gunnery Sergeant that same month).</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">He would go on to become
Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps. During this operation, he won a Silver Star.
He did a great job. I'm proud to have been a witness to his acts that helped him
get that award. After his retirement, he returned to his beloved hometown Boston. <b>*Updated:</b> He died on February
11, 2018 (at age 86) in Virginia Beach, VA. He was truly a great and honorable Marine having served from the Korean War. R.I.P.
Bob Cleary.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Cleary
did what few men could never do under such fire. He crawled to the wounded, actually
put a few of them on his back and crawled with them to the rear for treatment while
still under fire. He would do that several
times, by a miracle he was not wounded himself.
His Silver Star award should have been higher. But as was well known in
those early days of the war, the Marine Corps was very stingy with combat awards,
for what reason none of us ever figured out. We accepted it and moved on. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">But,
to make matters worse about those early days, we also heard that people “in the
rear with the gear” as we called them, were being awarded Bronze Stars for
making sure our C-Rations arrived on time. Far too many fine Marines died and
did lots of brave things only to win the Purple Heart and not much else – it
hardly seemed fair then and now! <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">The events of that battle: During the heat of the fighting, many of us were pinned down under withering NVA fire coming from a series of tree lines that another Marine Battalion (2nd BN, 4th Marines) was pushing the NVA towards us from their northern side of a rather large area.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">At it happened, on the same day that Cleary was acting out his brave action, so was our Company
Commander, then 1<sup>st</sup> Lieutenant Charles C. Krulak and Sergeant Richard
Strange - both of them would also win Silver Stars. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Krulak, would go on to become a 4-star General as Commandant of the Marine Corps in his later years, won his for directing close air support so close that he had to
call it right on top of his own position during the early hours of darkness and
heat of battle – and that act saved many lives. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Sgt.
Strange's story is contained in the section at the end of my book labeled
“Reflections” and sent to me by his former close friend, Butch Gatlin. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">We were ordered to advance across the rice paddies towards a huge tree line where we were to set up a blocking force for 2/4 - which was to be rather routine as these operations often
do at first - that is before the shit hits the fan as they say. This day was to
be no different. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">We
got off our 'choppers, quickly assembled back in our squads and platoons, and
not far from the area we were going start our advance and head to the place we had been
briefed about blocking from.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">This
day was no different than the one that had started back during Operation NEW
YORK in February. The orders were just as simple: “<i>Land, advance to and take positions
and provide a blocking force for 2/4, who would be pushing the NVA south out of the City of Hue towards us</i>.”</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">As I said, the mission sounded easy enough, but, then that old guy “Murphy
and his damn laws” dropped by with a few other plans (damn, I hated it when
Murphy dropped by). We
started moving forward and towards the tree line to set up the blocking force
line, and as we advanced we could hear
gunfire ahead of us, and still somewhat in the distance. but slowly the volume and intensity of that fire started to increase, and then rounds started getting really close. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">My first thought was “We had been landed
in the wrong spot (again)?” Well, hell at that moment, it didn't matter, we
were here, and they enemy was there, and all hell was about to erupt. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Suddenly and with some distance still to
go before we could get good cover, we started receiving fire directly at and
around us. Rounds were hitting the rice paddy dikes in front and whizzing
bullets over our heads. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Initially
and like all good Marines are trained, we hit the deck and started looking
around. Then we all realized at once it seemed, we were in the open and still
had a good distance to go for the tree line and any chance of real cover and
not those damn open, shallow dry paddies with little cover and zero camouflage.
I also thought, here we go again – another OPERATION New York, or worse: the bloodbath we had on OPERATION
Harvest Moon all over again.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Also,
this action also was about to take place just a short month after we were hit hard and lost so
many back on that horrible Memorial Day. But, we also knew what had to be done,
and without waiting on orders, we jumped up and started hightailing toward the
trees. We only took a few more rounds,
and then a sudden lull. But then just as fast, the whole world seemed to open
up as we got closer – the volume of fire was intense. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">What seemed to have happened
was that the fleeing NVA were now firmly trapped between 2/4 pushing them and now facing us. They were not ready for that trap. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">They
apparently saw us and held their fire giving us a chance to get up close, and
then opened on us as we started advancing closer to them. At the same time, 2/4
never let up their fire, so we had both NVA and friendly fire falling on us and
soon both found their targets. We started taking loses and quickly. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">The
NVA started to rake us pretty good all across our front with heavy rifle and
machine gun fire - back and forth, left to right and then right to left. It was very effective, but we kept up our
advancement until we finally reached the tree line. What made matters worse,
the word came down to watch your fire, that 2/4 was not far away. No shit, I
thought! <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">At
the time it all seemed crazy with commands of: Hold your fire, watch your fire, be careful where
you fire, and such. Our leaders feared that we would confuse 2/4 and their
push with the NVA, or that 2/4 would confuse our fire with the NVA, and we'd end
up shooting each other. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Things would really get hot as two Marine battalions
plowed into each other not knowing where each other was. For the NVA, it was
great - they could shoot as both of us and we couldn't shoot back at them.
Damn, friendly fire and NVA fire – great I’m sure we all had the same thoughts. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Some
of the rounds we were receiving probably were from 2/4 but the sounds of AK-47
make a very distinct sickening ring to them that is nothing like an M-16, so we
pretty much knew where the NVA were. That message was cleared up quickly and we
were told to return fire but take care at our targets. The NVA saw what we were
about to do, so they held up and started taking their time firing and choosing
their targets, too and their fire was starting taking its toll. It looked like
another mess was brewing, and initially, it was a mess. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">There
was a lot of confusion and lots of firing from what seemed like every conceivable
direction and position. The NVA were trapped and fighting for their lives, 2/4
was pushing like a bunch of madmen, and all we could do was be selective and be
careful where we fired. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">We
had five killed very quickly in my company (Golf Company). </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Hotel Company on our
left flank, also had five killed in short order.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">One was killed in H&S
Company. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">My
platoon now in the lead for Golf Company managed to get to the tree line first.
We had the main road on our left which anchored us to Hotel Company who was on
the other side of the road. We could all see each other clearly and that helped
in some of the confusion. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">We had wide open rice fields to our far right and
plenty of huts and trees in front of us that turned out later to be a rather
big NVA stronghold.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Lt.
Krulak set up his command post (CP) with radios and 60mm mortars just to our
rear and in old Buddhist-style grave yard. The CP was better off than we were located
in the rear and fairly well covered. One of those wounded early from Hotel
Company was my old friend and former squad member and my M-79 grenadier from
Fox Company, LCpl. Edwin Labotto. He had been shot though the upper shoulder with an
exit wound out his back. He was in very bad shape, but he pulled through. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">I managed to see him a
few years later back in the states while at Camp Pendleton. I went to a base movie one
night on post and he was an MP on duty at the theatre. It was great seeing him. He said he was now
married and was going for 20 years. I
bet he made it, too.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">As
the battle raged, we became more pinned down not only from the NVA trying to
escape, but from the bullets flying in from 2/4 as they continued to advance
all across our front. A sniper fired a shot here or there, a hand grenade was
tossed nearby, and that kind of close combat remained constant for several hours. When I had
the chance, I started to survey the dry rice fields to our right. What I saw, I
didn't like. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">What I didn't know but
suspected, was that that flank was an easy route around us for the NVA to
escape. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Eventually,
2/4 either slowed down, got bogged down, or started to dig in because we were told
that the friendly fire was being lifted and that we had permission to fire at
will, but continue picking targets carefully.
We did stay low, picked off a few NVA whenever we saw then as the battle
sea-sawed back and forth for a few more hours. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">We threw hand grenades all
across our front while Krulak gave us overhead mortar and M-79 fire from time
to time keep the snipers off guard because they were now in the trees shooting
down on us and wounding just about anyone who moved. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;"><b>Then something terrible
happened. </b>Tw CH-46 helicopters landed up front near Hotel Company to pick up the wounded from 2/4. Some of our wounded managed to
get over near the first chopper by crossing Hotel's lines to our left front. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">One
had just loaded the wounded and started to lift off when NVA hit it hard with
both heavy gun fire and RPG rockets.</p><div style="border: 1pt solid windowtext; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 1pt 4pt;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; margin-bottom: 6pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-padding-alt: 1.0pt 4.0pt 1.0pt 4.0pt; padding: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; margin-bottom: 6pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-padding-alt: 1.0pt 4.0pt 1.0pt 4.0pt; padding: 0in;">The ‘chopper burst into flames and started to crash with Marines who
thought they were being lifted to safety falling out the back as it passed treetop
level. That was an awful sight but were helpless to do anything. <o:p></o:p></p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">The
'chopper was melting right before our eyes. I'd never seen a chopper burn like
that nor did I think they burned that fast. I don't know how many died in that
crash from 2/4, but I'm sure most of the wounded now became KIA. Before that
was over, another 'chopper a short distance away also went down just like the
first. We had two terrible crashes in
about 20 minutes. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Things
didn't start to cool down until near darkness. By that time, many of us had
managed to regroup, get more ammo, take care of our dead and wounded and try to
shore up that exposed right flank I had been cautious of all day. That was the
place I most worried about because of the fleeing NVA we kept seeing from time
to time darting to their safety. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">During
the early darkness, Krulak passed the word that two jets: F-4 Phantoms were on the
way with some “snake and nape” (that meant bombs and napalm). </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">He told us to get
down and stay down because they would be dropping right over the top of us.
They would be making their run from left to right in between us and 2/4 - right
across our two fronts on top of the NVA, or at least that was the plan. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;"><b>As the old saying goes: “If it can go wrong, it will go wrong.” Well it was about to.<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">The two
Phantoms arrived right on schedule because we could hear them, but as they
started their napalm run, it became clear they were coming in from behind us,
not from our left across our front as we thought. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Bingo, they roared
right over the top of the CP at my platoon's back and not across
the NVA's front. They were coming in low and hot. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">We
could clearly see their napalm bombs tumbled off their racks and started
falling right toward Krulak and the CP, not toward the NVA – they had missed
the angle of their attack. The nape hit the ground just short of the CP, and
burst into one helluva giant fireball and then if by magic, it rolled right over
the top of the CP missing everyone below.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">That
happened as if it had been planned, but it surely was not. Free and clear and
not one of our guys was hurt. It looked like a pool player making the cue ball
jump over the seven ball and knocking in the eight ball. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">Even with that screw up, those F-4's helped save our asses because the NVA didn't do anything the
rest of the night. Either they were cooked or managed to flee. They dropped way
short and from the wrong heading, nearly wiping out our CP but somehow ended up
saving the day. Everyone knew it was damn close. I knew the guys in the CP got
their whiskers singed! Krulak for his
bravery that night won his Silver Star. He damn sure earned it. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;">We
mopped up the next and continue to move north towards the DMZ and more
fighting. That’s the way this war continued.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;"><b>Related:</b> Remembrance of Operation JAY from 1<sup>st</sup> BN,
4<sup>th</sup> Marines point of view – <a href="http://1stbn4thmarines.net/operations/history-folder/jay.htm"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">their page link</span></b></a>.</p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;">LEST WE FORGET</span></b><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 14pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-66741389134588617352020-06-29T13:09:00.001-04:002020-06-29T13:14:10.838-04:00Fox Company former "Skipper" Ret. Lt.Col. Jim Page: Passed Away June 27, 2020<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkXo-azEf-jBIYHLaZFbvDJm9Syd2-_GNWDqVGBo5Lb1MY2w-MvvkpPHZ7kkGfPs4gFuQCtoPmYSwTZcULyt_biwwvshGrxtK3VxKXbk51sTxdV0u5wilq6wayFUOgsdmpzzVH-FKRM1Q/s1600/2-1+2007+Houston+Reunion+Jim+Page+wins+jacket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="501" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkXo-azEf-jBIYHLaZFbvDJm9Syd2-_GNWDqVGBo5Lb1MY2w-MvvkpPHZ7kkGfPs4gFuQCtoPmYSwTZcULyt_biwwvshGrxtK3VxKXbk51sTxdV0u5wilq6wayFUOgsdmpzzVH-FKRM1Q/s640/2-1+2007+Houston+Reunion+Jim+Page+wins+jacket.jpg" width="443" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 15.5pt;">Jim Page Wins a Jacket: Houston Reunion (2007)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1TeSM4GSGPu5TzBCTW-wdeHYTempTJMqxY6dKA7BSJlnhP-2qAhh0jf2wVdG6_RzyEidrvPLdgdIwRq03-FPAROGaffYlMsx7OPVdc9AOIq_YX4tRcSayTelJxjztDcmoQoDPThHiT8Y/s1600/Standing+Firm+with+Fox.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="431" data-original-width="575" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1TeSM4GSGPu5TzBCTW-wdeHYTempTJMqxY6dKA7BSJlnhP-2qAhh0jf2wVdG6_RzyEidrvPLdgdIwRq03-FPAROGaffYlMsx7OPVdc9AOIq_YX4tRcSayTelJxjztDcmoQoDPThHiT8Y/s1600/Standing+Firm+with+Fox.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 15.5pt;">Few from Fox 2/1 (VN-era) at D.C. Reunion (2004)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.5pt; line-height: 107%;">Paul Mangan
called me (Monday, June 29, 2020) and gave me the sad news about Jim Page
passing. He had heart attack and was in hospice. Paul said it was
like he had a bad headache went to sleep and never woke up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.5pt; line-height: 107%;">What a great
man he was, excellent leader, well-liked by everyone, and one heluva Marine - also, earned the Silver Star. He was 91 years old.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.5pt; line-height: 107%;">I spoke to
him </span><span style="font-size: 16.5pt;">by phone a few months ago and we chatted about the good old days. I will miss
the phone calls as I am sure others who spoke to him over the years will, too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.5pt; line-height: 107%;">Rest in
Peace, “Skipper” (<i>for he was our company commander during OP Harvest Moon</i>). He was
shot through the chest on that fateful day (December 10, 1965), was declared
dead, and yet overnight was found to be alive. That was truly a miracle that many of us saw. It was not his time. Now it is. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.5pt; line-height: 107%;">Good bye old
friend. Semper Fi … R.I.P.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-49646093080823575932014-11-24T14:20:00.001-05:002014-11-24T14:20:21.004-05:00Departure Ceremony at HQ ROKMC After Advisor Duty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYiXL1ab7UfwdRKxSKl0_TjRb_C6DlHpIS8bZkeZjQY7_t11LLHcEToD_bwxot0UE2iI0rqflm51EAOratDXdh_DnENByrFnYnEcQKbOEPLHHs6Z0SVNK5lM2Zffhh0WziLkOITb8cKso/s1600/1963+Dec+Departure+Gift+from+ROKMC+CMC+HQ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYiXL1ab7UfwdRKxSKl0_TjRb_C6DlHpIS8bZkeZjQY7_t11LLHcEToD_bwxot0UE2iI0rqflm51EAOratDXdh_DnENByrFnYnEcQKbOEPLHHs6Z0SVNK5lM2Zffhh0WziLkOITb8cKso/s1600/1963+Dec+Departure+Gift+from+ROKMC+CMC+HQ.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Chief of Staff of ROKMC Presenting Two Gifts and Certificate of Thanks</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>(December 1963)</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I was promoted to Sgt. a few days later, just before flying back home after a little over two years in Seoul with the Marine Corps Component of the Naval Advisory Group (NAG) in Seoul at HQ ROKMC.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
A great tour and one of my most-enjoyable ever.</div>
Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-20582910042082274862014-10-09T23:36:00.003-04:002014-10-09T23:36:54.429-04:00Long Lost Photo: On the Island of Sardinia, Italy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFZutXYTnffAhWi1T_9GPYBYgmMppLFkU2-66mT0y7eXsEGuFfKP85vwGp3ACx7DQzmyBlxf4nqCJmoaEx_bQ2ZD5lykuxLIIL7vCb0Yn_4mgwsDcPUfDQfpraP3_nEMIt0FwjNU03DA/s1600/Sardinia+Italy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFZutXYTnffAhWi1T_9GPYBYgmMppLFkU2-66mT0y7eXsEGuFfKP85vwGp3ACx7DQzmyBlxf4nqCJmoaEx_bQ2ZD5lykuxLIIL7vCb0Yn_4mgwsDcPUfDQfpraP3_nEMIt0FwjNU03DA/s1600/Sardinia+Italy.jpg" height="320" width="259" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Sardinia, Italy</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMxb27HmA9dV0Hh_P8cARSjxTiMfoN5F0LhyeRH35T5pFDrZ8ASakrPAGQdY7npkNV1lZxdgEsUZOkerj-t6NBVbZDyQvBzal2SdDI0IyOGSgB4gfBzGyaF5C4IKqwSnSZERLTLN3QRUI/s1600/Dan+and+Team+on+Island+of+Sardinia,+Italy+May+1974.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMxb27HmA9dV0Hh_P8cARSjxTiMfoN5F0LhyeRH35T5pFDrZ8ASakrPAGQdY7npkNV1lZxdgEsUZOkerj-t6NBVbZDyQvBzal2SdDI0IyOGSgB4gfBzGyaF5C4IKqwSnSZERLTLN3QRUI/s1600/Dan+and+Team+on+Island+of+Sardinia,+Italy+May+1974.jpg" height="270" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>1st Lt. Elder; Me (2nd from Left); then GySgt. Ken Bridges; Sgt. Bender (?)</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(Med Cruise 1973-1974 and Operation on Sardinia in May 1974)</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">We are all aboard the USS Mount Whitney (LCC-20), which at the time was the flag ship of the 2nd Fleet during our 6-month cruise in that region of the world. Found this old picture in my files and wanted to share it ...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">We all worked in the "Green Room" (Intel center). I headed up the Interrogation Team (me and one other Marine) - both Russian language skilled interrogators.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHNbdXUI76GIRflOPmTgZz6YzZvpmq6P3cX_WlihUhIEYcjrKLNQMMaXMJwd0wuJocG_vB0DDlGjrUhvFZYpwSkACbm8YcHAzZ9w_5bkMkdNrt1IT-8alltg31N8kLisO8WFUaYkVArKo/s1600/USS+Mount+Whitney+(LCC-20).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHNbdXUI76GIRflOPmTgZz6YzZvpmq6P3cX_WlihUhIEYcjrKLNQMMaXMJwd0wuJocG_vB0DDlGjrUhvFZYpwSkACbm8YcHAzZ9w_5bkMkdNrt1IT-8alltg31N8kLisO8WFUaYkVArKo/s1600/USS+Mount+Whitney+(LCC-20).jpg" height="227" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">The Whitney is considered the most sophisticated Command, Control, Communications, Computer, and Intelligence (</span><a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/C4ISTAR" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-decoration: none;" title="C4ISTAR"><b><span style="color: blue;">C4I</span></b></a><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">) ship ever commissioned. Currently she is the flag ship of the 6th Fleet.</span></span></div>
Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-32801984116048083122014-06-20T21:01:00.003-04:002014-06-20T21:01:50.017-04:00Iraq: U.S. KIA: 4,486 and WIA: 32,223 Neo-Cons Want More<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzHdJp81_HiCV6-B3UInbKjAiubEhMMU47jKN_17pMw-s7aJP6fTx0-NJofMkcoHMaBoyF6CEcDTm0oMiQDEMFfw4z8AWuKl3JN1iM5NxjixmkZUI1aSX_6Zkbp3B3LDMIHh-fGMzvDg/s1600/GOP+Iraq+action+T-shirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzHdJp81_HiCV6-B3UInbKjAiubEhMMU47jKN_17pMw-s7aJP6fTx0-NJofMkcoHMaBoyF6CEcDTm0oMiQDEMFfw4z8AWuKl3JN1iM5NxjixmkZUI1aSX_6Zkbp3B3LDMIHh-fGMzvDg/s1600/GOP+Iraq+action+T-shirt.jpg" height="400" width="358" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>GOP Neo-cons Hit the Talk Show and Cable TV 24-7 Cycles</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(Yet, Never Saw Combat)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe9eBQYsIhCcjUUWpQST2Yo1GjV8IMV8jA6ib-cI375JRcsTsj-QOmpUP7fKQLC1OjpdXZPaT8us1VlVKlkz4bKPLlh2JkaspF7jTgKD5GUaOL4cTYLWniv-LQHlL4xYQ99O-tjjcBKnY/s1600/GOP+2003+invasion+talk+redux.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe9eBQYsIhCcjUUWpQST2Yo1GjV8IMV8jA6ib-cI375JRcsTsj-QOmpUP7fKQLC1OjpdXZPaT8us1VlVKlkz4bKPLlh2JkaspF7jTgKD5GUaOL4cTYLWniv-LQHlL4xYQ99O-tjjcBKnY/s1600/GOP+2003+invasion+talk+redux.jpg" height="190" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Four Examples</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzeZfHucMcFAiRaeqTy5lJJ1zVdDz-2zSBTFqzEpBiA7hHaFfdocUG7nOwlQNJMuvN3LyKHWpxG3milIBMexUHI7FiyYTxSR8ZZQKZ0BbUF67yYZihtlkpE3GaAfwEkkeCeAqRVWNFoRA/s1600/Cheneys+on+Iraq.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzeZfHucMcFAiRaeqTy5lJJ1zVdDz-2zSBTFqzEpBiA7hHaFfdocUG7nOwlQNJMuvN3LyKHWpxG3milIBMexUHI7FiyYTxSR8ZZQKZ0BbUF67yYZihtlkpE3GaAfwEkkeCeAqRVWNFoRA/s1600/Cheneys+on+Iraq.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Plus This Father and Daughter Tag Team</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Our troops suffered and died. All the country got was that lousy T-shirt. All the while, these ässhølës seek some sort of redemption and more combat without one single apology — long over due.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Chris Matthews reminds us here of their hypocrisy on HARDBALL. It is worth watching:</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe border="no" height="400" scrolling="no" src="http://player.theplatform.com/p/2E2eJC/EmbeddedOffSite?guid=n_hardball_2neocon_140620" width="500"></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
They show zero shame and yet remain shameless. They are despicable, period. End of story.</div>
Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-76159306091131723032014-06-19T21:12:00.000-04:002014-06-19T21:12:23.877-04:00Nightmare on "K" Street: 2003 Pre-Invasion Talk Redux<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEika8lHunEcrppuIZwZOa0rSiGWczpZmwjeV-YYGfGBnngjpwgLVWtTLpDztjCwjcX4lVdUnuUt2vUuJx6EQX46PwhRZQ8UAAVMBFsJVE7i_kkNxS5ERnKYYYfORqspblyPvG29hdvWmcs/s1600/Neo-con+red+blood+and+green+money+redux.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEika8lHunEcrppuIZwZOa0rSiGWczpZmwjeV-YYGfGBnngjpwgLVWtTLpDztjCwjcX4lVdUnuUt2vUuJx6EQX46PwhRZQ8UAAVMBFsJVE7i_kkNxS5ERnKYYYfORqspblyPvG29hdvWmcs/s1600/Neo-con+red+blood+and+green+money+redux.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>GOP-Conservatives (Hardcore Neo-Cons) Newest /Oldest Game</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6F-dEoNEHkWiEqaAVofvaZxNtBCfrA-Wi7jChIDaq-boWMMozLJ1lG7R9vDz7nTlKK2puIFdekvOD7tylaugZqyB0l6bKXF1MvGyof-ZZP7dJ6nUXYifCk4PW3zuaJUh51SVj-eGTrlE/s1600/GOP+2003+invasion+talk+redux.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6F-dEoNEHkWiEqaAVofvaZxNtBCfrA-Wi7jChIDaq-boWMMozLJ1lG7R9vDz7nTlKK2puIFdekvOD7tylaugZqyB0l6bKXF1MvGyof-ZZP7dJ6nUXYifCk4PW3zuaJUh51SVj-eGTrlE/s1600/GOP+2003+invasion+talk+redux.jpg" height="190" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>They Look Familiar, Don't They</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(Sadly, they sound the same, too)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyseP6Sus0RFerPlY5nNUqSv0CLuWeRQGNz1Z3rayWcoYqQaBtrPtnciDsj0UbK27b8AoGReem7s_6BcyPV6G4QxQlloDbL36mfky6uzBoU369O8_-k5dwrY-kgsj4gPnDPp2J_b_MhA4/s1600/Cheney+red+hands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyseP6Sus0RFerPlY5nNUqSv0CLuWeRQGNz1Z3rayWcoYqQaBtrPtnciDsj0UbK27b8AoGReem7s_6BcyPV6G4QxQlloDbL36mfky6uzBoU369O8_-k5dwrY-kgsj4gPnDPp2J_b_MhA4/s1600/Cheney+red+hands.jpg" height="320" width="276" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b>Bloodstained Country, Bloodstained Hands, Red-faced Liar</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It doesn't </span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">hurt to remember failed history — but, let's not repeat it. Below is a </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">look back at the </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">architects </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">of the failed war in Iraq and that mess we now see and they have the gall to talk about returning to what? Finish the job, part III (i.e., George H. W. Bush who wouldn't start it, and then George W. Bush couldn't end it after he started it) and without a clear cut victory. And, here we are now.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><iframe border="no" height="400" scrolling="no" src="http://player.theplatform.com/p/2E2eJC/EmbeddedOffSite?guid=n_hardbal_2cheeeney_140619" width="500"></iframe></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">Sadly, there are hundreds of GOPers trying to dismiss the talk today by blaming Obama for crap they unloaded on the world in 2004-2011 with the same talk.</span></span></div>
Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-60306094677901745632014-06-16T20:11:00.000-04:002014-06-16T21:52:02.312-04:00Iraq Part III: Repeating the Failed Past is Not Leadership Today<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWhSaZJ5j7jJ-evoMPwhyL66JMe0Tx8cizC7eHFNZOntYXpcESEWm1AEH2Z9BV3eoVF_Dlb2xf7igeK-qsvsbIWtThrgLyVkPY7RFOHUnlLlbFPRhcu9HNfhuLtkNr60Bzq_r3mLlCpuc/s1600/Bush+Team+Iraq+III+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWhSaZJ5j7jJ-evoMPwhyL66JMe0Tx8cizC7eHFNZOntYXpcESEWm1AEH2Z9BV3eoVF_Dlb2xf7igeK-qsvsbIWtThrgLyVkPY7RFOHUnlLlbFPRhcu9HNfhuLtkNr60Bzq_r3mLlCpuc/s1600/Bush+Team+Iraq+III+.jpg" height="200" width="163" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 22.399999618530273px; text-align: left;"><b>"Fool me once, shame on ... shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again."</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px; text-align: left;">(</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Nashville: Sept 17, 2002)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhutb_PsbyFZCpYuEz1t-TTKLo2woA9cCeYHNnO7Kceu0VADpOdnigjMko4SBsUmfQ3Fnc5m4Fm7rWkRiF3JgBfCeCCwtfiaMfmoqiwlW3lBp8hH7e4fxeWFJVvgJKSgdwuMzxvpHqOwRc/s1600/Wolfowitz+Kristol+Bremer+redux.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhutb_PsbyFZCpYuEz1t-TTKLo2woA9cCeYHNnO7Kceu0VADpOdnigjMko4SBsUmfQ3Fnc5m4Fm7rWkRiF3JgBfCeCCwtfiaMfmoqiwlW3lBp8hH7e4fxeWFJVvgJKSgdwuMzxvpHqOwRc/s1600/Wolfowitz+Kristol+Bremer+redux.jpg" height="158" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">(</span><b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Paul Wolfowitz, William Kristrol, L. Paul Bremer)</span></b></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/politics/2014/06/paul_wolfowitz_bill_kristol_and_douglas_feith_should_be_ignored_the_neocons.html?wpisrc=burger_bar"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.200000762939453px; text-align: left;">P</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.200000762939453px; text-align: left;">ompous </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.200000762939453px; text-align: left;">Prognosticators</span></a></b></span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
Excellent reminder here (9-minute segment) about the people
from that failed, bogus, phony, lying Bush-Cheney era. It's a time in American
history that we must never forget and certainly never repeat again:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><iframe border="no" height="400" scrolling="no" src="http://player.theplatform.com/p/2E2eJC/EmbeddedOffSite?guid=n_ed_4rap_140616" width="500"></iframe></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="MsoNormal">
And, this second rundown (8-minute segment) highlighting a few key Neo-cons and their latest attempt at some sort of redemption. They are some of the ones along with their documented previous failures that got us into <st1:country-region>Iraq</st1:country-region>
on lies and false premises in the first place. Now their ploy may be as bad in scope as
the <st1:place>ISIS</st1:place> in theirs.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<iframe border="no" height="400" scrolling="no" src="http://player.theplatform.com/p/2E2eJC/EmbeddedOffSite?guid=n_hardball_2iraq_140616" width="500"></iframe></div>
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">I hate making predictions since I am frequently wrong.
However, in this case, I will make one more try about being correct: </span><st1:country-region>Iraq</st1:country-region>
will get worse before it gets better. Along the way, we do not need the rats from
the rust bucket USS George W. Bush ship of state that sunk us years ago to
climb back on board to pretend to tell us what the solutions are now in Iraq
that they could never find when they were in office mucking everything up that
kind of got us to this mess today. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>In a word:</b> Ignore them (actually that's two words). Stay
tuned. Thanks for stopping by.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-36285067456640687492014-06-13T14:33:00.000-04:002014-06-13T14:38:25.768-04:00Honest Look and Analysis of How Americans Think Today<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhURFLJ_ngipfUMchTBnBnmrXXX7Wmz4WswcnM4bzW0VN8dp6AbBgWbzB58nB_vFMOIOYU2WjK43B3odcl7f0Fg-tJF4IC22UuqYCTHXMpiGzD9i-ZdJnrHJri_Y5OC7Z9-APqv0tOc9r0/s1600/Dems+are+blind+too.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhURFLJ_ngipfUMchTBnBnmrXXX7Wmz4WswcnM4bzW0VN8dp6AbBgWbzB58nB_vFMOIOYU2WjK43B3odcl7f0Fg-tJF4IC22UuqYCTHXMpiGzD9i-ZdJnrHJri_Y5OC7Z9-APqv0tOc9r0/s1600/Dems+are+blind+too.jpg" height="242" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>One Political Side </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>(</b><span style="color: blue;"><b>the DEMS</b></span><b>)</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4toqZ6XWsMimvw6nSggRx85y29q2Oyp8VeuIB7yBLL7P-GUUAJ4c_nZUCflLtPV6S31SkyJXKr_dZqMaHKmkzK04sT8K8h3KkW7DQX1uokAHSFJKJQIslv9bIB1HyrPI8et9T3qs-5kM/s1600/GOP+stuck+in+the+Ice+Age.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4toqZ6XWsMimvw6nSggRx85y29q2Oyp8VeuIB7yBLL7P-GUUAJ4c_nZUCflLtPV6S31SkyJXKr_dZqMaHKmkzK04sT8K8h3KkW7DQX1uokAHSFJKJQIslv9bIB1HyrPI8et9T3qs-5kM/s1600/GOP+stuck+in+the+Ice+Age.jpg" height="263" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>The Other Political Side</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>(</b><span style="color: red;"><b>the GOPers</b></span><b>)</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whatever happens in DC these days or no matter how big it happens
or even how it happens, we constantly hear reminders: “It's politics as usual.”
Both parties know that expression better than anyone and boy do they milk it
for all it's worth. It’s not the slogan per se, but it’s the public cynicism
and apathy tied to it. What we have in essence is that one side can't govern
and the other side won't. Take your pick, but keep in mind, it always changes after
the next election depending on who takes the majority reins of power.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It's the economy, stupid" (a phase coined by James
Carville who ran Bill Clinton's 1992 campaign). Boy did he nail it with that
slogan. It still rings true today as it did back then. My variation of that for
today might be: “It's the big money, stupid.” But, that’s a topic for later.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All this brings me to the subject of this post. <b><a href="http://www.salon.com/2014/06/13/inside_americas_militarized_mind_how_propaganda_and_perpetual_war_have_poisoned_our_imaginations/"><span style="color: blue;">I found this very excellent article</span></a></b> written by William J. Astore at Salon.com. He is a
retired lieutenant colonel (USAF), and he is a Tom Dispatch.com regular. He has
taught at the <st1:place><st1:placename>Air</st1:placename> <st1:placename>Force</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype>Academy</st1:placetype></st1:place> and the <st1:place><st1:placename>Naval</st1:placename>
<st1:placename>Postgraduate</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>School</st1:placetype></st1:place>,
and now teaches History at the Pennsylvania College of Technology. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />
The Article's Title is Catchy and I piggybacked on it for my post today: <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Inside </span></b><st1:country-region><st1:place><b><span style="font-family: Arial;">America</span></b></st1:place></st1:country-region><b><span style="font-family: Arial;">’s
militarized mind: How propaganda and perpetual war have poisoned our imagination”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>There’s not much in the piece that I disagree with. This extract
really hit home with me (he has great links, too):</b></div>
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“Unlike the <a href="http://www.loc.gov/exhibits/treasures/images/tlc0090.jpg" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: blue;">recruiting
poster</span></b></a> of old, Uncle Sam doesn’t want you anymore — he already has
you. You’ve been drafted into the American national security state. That much is evident from <a href="http://www.tomdispatch.com/post/175843" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: blue;">Edward Snowden’s</span></b></a> revelations.
Your email? It can be read. Your
phone calls? <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/world/national-security/nsa-phone-record-collection-does-little-to-prevent-terrorist-attacks-group-says/2014/01/12/8aa860aa-77dd-11e3-8963-b4b654bcc9b2_story.html" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: blue;">Metadata</span></b></a> about them is being gathered. Your
smart phone? It’s a perfect <a href="http://www.tomdispatch.com/post/175803/" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: blue;">tracking device</span></b></a> if
the government needs to find you. Your computer? Hackable and
trackable. Your server? It’s <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2014/06/07/technology/internet-giants-erect-barriers-to-spy-agencies.html" target="_blank">at their service</a>, not yours.”</div>
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“Many of the college students I’ve taught recently take such
a <a href="http://www.tomdispatch.com/post/175822/" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: blue;">loss
of privacy</span></b></a> for granted. They have no idea what’s gone missing
from their lives and so don’t value what they’ve lost or, if they fret about it
at all, console themselves with magical thinking — incantations like “I’ve done <b><span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/william-astore/government-prosecuting-whistleblowers_b_3244332.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">nothing wrong</span></a>,</span></b> so I’ve got nothing to hide.” They
have little sense of how capricious governments can be about the definition of
“wrong.”</div>
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<b>Reminded me further of that line from a TV show when one
says:</b> “I don’t worry about this since I don’t have anything to hide.” <b>Says the
other person:</b> “No, but we have plenty to protect.” </div>
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Hope you read the article – it sure gets you thinking.
Thanks for stopping by.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-47003814981590971222014-06-10T12:19:00.002-04:002014-06-10T12:19:40.692-04:00Talk Turkey About the VA Mess: Dump the Turkeys<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjryjjJ6cJJbq6bp0IpBklpA3086Dd8qQJwUddkGfcnQl36TLDEp9-sFy6oru4pnHnMgulE4kAzQulbm-N0WEWsX37EcFdci6tYz3DsEP-kN2mFMLPsemhYPxDrXgGB1MEgxH-nQE6pRvA/s1600/VA+Claims+Office.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjryjjJ6cJJbq6bp0IpBklpA3086Dd8qQJwUddkGfcnQl36TLDEp9-sFy6oru4pnHnMgulE4kAzQulbm-N0WEWsX37EcFdci6tYz3DsEP-kN2mFMLPsemhYPxDrXgGB1MEgxH-nQE6pRvA/s1600/VA+Claims+Office.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Typical VA Claims Officer</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGxRr-Vvm5_x863ev32t9PIk9mQfSfzq1HwmwKlgi8IiHPpVaItY1Mrvoi-fTcifrOQiyoh4gF2fAA4_yNWq1zq6jhF_AUcVp8l0twIm2zVXkOKxMpXX3QAXGnLhsM3MnOlnciwrxsj7Q/s1600/VA+claims.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGxRr-Vvm5_x863ev32t9PIk9mQfSfzq1HwmwKlgi8IiHPpVaItY1Mrvoi-fTcifrOQiyoh4gF2fAA4_yNWq1zq6jhF_AUcVp8l0twIm2zVXkOKxMpXX3QAXGnLhsM3MnOlnciwrxsj7Q/s1600/VA+claims.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>VA Claims Pending</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk8kpU9Lg7drWcgOQfT-LRZSJTW4yvIwTxy02YMcDUck_WPDlCRmDKha-7-f0doJ3EjBqnWoXX9jgIckC6SlVktpXtp-oLGxKNFJUOE0n3uIYzm-VOD7iIPUe_xj12m6A0ZuJ_jw9iKB0/s1600/VA+claims+backlog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk8kpU9Lg7drWcgOQfT-LRZSJTW4yvIwTxy02YMcDUck_WPDlCRmDKha-7-f0doJ3EjBqnWoXX9jgIckC6SlVktpXtp-oLGxKNFJUOE0n3uIYzm-VOD7iIPUe_xj12m6A0ZuJ_jw9iKB0/s1600/VA+claims+backlog.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>VA Claims Backlog</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
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The ultimate homecoming with no VA care worries, but it's coming home the hard way.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilHjcyTFINieyVeta-ijSNkjGOr3YTvwjwS2EUrQccaEvUCZulP428yWnY7REfurPr6GqzFdCNj_LGqC3Hk7w5gAZPUroJ1GW1JJZb5HV_j4MEokyz95jX7alLAQMSpWVOm_qaGU2p8W0/s1600/Homecoming.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilHjcyTFINieyVeta-ijSNkjGOr3YTvwjwS2EUrQccaEvUCZulP428yWnY7REfurPr6GqzFdCNj_LGqC3Hk7w5gAZPUroJ1GW1JJZb5HV_j4MEokyz95jX7alLAQMSpWVOm_qaGU2p8W0/s1600/Homecoming.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Those who came home broken and wounded (physically and mentally) need and seek VA treat that has been promised then the real battle starts as they hear: Take a number, get in line, and prepare to wait a very, very long time. Your care you get will damn good once we get to you. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
That my friends amounts to one single thing about this long lingering saga lacking: Strong focused leadership from the top down. That's the way the system is supposed to be. So, it's time to clean house and put in place leaders who can lead, manage, and supervise to work and stop these scenes.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGKzZI10NwXz57oIvXfr0cA_pPbv2Nd4I6IPpk8YD0slKyreMGRPeplb13NRnrLHA1vKRUCkPULXRKWdd0-IxThAHRGGM5SJQ0U18s96jm7Ustfg8mCXGt3WoOJNmgyczzX0RdolFZbTQ/s1600/Vets+wating+for+treatment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGKzZI10NwXz57oIvXfr0cA_pPbv2Nd4I6IPpk8YD0slKyreMGRPeplb13NRnrLHA1vKRUCkPULXRKWdd0-IxThAHRGGM5SJQ0U18s96jm7Ustfg8mCXGt3WoOJNmgyczzX0RdolFZbTQ/s1600/Vets+wating+for+treatment.jpg" height="231" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>They Paid the Price: The bill is Due, so pay up, America</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://www.va.gov/opa/pressrel/">Updates here from the VA</a></span></b> (press releases about steps being taken now). A lot more remains. Stay tuned. Thanks for stopping by.</div>
Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-49878531002895602562012-07-07T18:20:00.005-04:002012-11-28T23:37:26.553-05:00The Good Old Days<div align="center">
<strong>Naval Aerial Observer Wings </strong></div>
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(My N/AO Wings)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnaO-ZnuDkja1DT6WZOOjgPiWp6z0osCxlJjq5MDhK7CFp1z6Zy_hLuCoT0z8lJm8LdA5jU2q4g0uKzMih8Ndba0uOKub5h831Z9xa84XhIRLn4Hi1Qa3c9HSEUWgtwc55-tiMj0mwYY/s1600/AO+wings.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5762558322686614194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnaO-ZnuDkja1DT6WZOOjgPiWp6z0osCxlJjq5MDhK7CFp1z6Zy_hLuCoT0z8lJm8LdA5jU2q4g0uKzMih8Ndba0uOKub5h831Z9xa84XhIRLn4Hi1Qa3c9HSEUWgtwc55-tiMj0mwYY/s320/AO+wings.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 66px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 233px;" /></a></div>
<br />
<div align="center">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVn4RWbUmqsI3Nz9I4fn0DBafopHDPdoiEUCoesGIvnIOQmXpTCaAHNMvkiXPfvD8ked1byzsGSTvo8_oZn7EE_MqfqvVdWMzaJ6OZmgfCHCw1pDoKcl-wqUKN91Ia48tXhpwk8EUxM4/s1600/OV+10+Yuma%252C+AZ+1971.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5762556344706376994" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVn4RWbUmqsI3Nz9I4fn0DBafopHDPdoiEUCoesGIvnIOQmXpTCaAHNMvkiXPfvD8ked1byzsGSTvo8_oZn7EE_MqfqvVdWMzaJ6OZmgfCHCw1pDoKcl-wqUKN91Ia48tXhpwk8EUxM4/s320/OV+10+Yuma%252C+AZ+1971.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 202px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 438px;" /></a> <strong>Backseat, 1st Lt. Dan Francis, USMC </strong></div>
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<strong>History:</strong> The N/AO, or simply AO was a breed of Marines, mostly commissioned and Warrant Officers who wore the wings pictured above and who flew as part of a two-man crew, mostly in <strong>OV-10 Bronco reconnaissance aircraft</strong>. The OV-10's and A/O program were phased out in 1995 after they had seen plenty of action in Vietnam and elsewhere until their retirement - the last was in 1991 in the Gulf War.</div>
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Today, the Marine Corps has once again authorized air crew to wear those wings. Many of them now fly in a variety of aircraft, including the KC-130 Hercules, MV-22 Osprey, F/A-18 Hornet, and many of the Corps’ helicopters as they fulfill numerous duties.</div>
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<div align="left">
The early day A/O's controlled a variety of air strikes, Naval Gunfire, Artillery fire missions, photo recon missions, and all sort of duties involving support of ground troops. Flying was a secondary duty for most A/O's as most of them were infantry or artillery officers.</div>
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<strong>Footnote from the <a href="http://www.usmchangout.com/usmc/conflicts/persiangulfwar.htm">First Gulf War</a>:</strong> January 16, 1991: Operation Desert Shield became Operation Desert Storm. U.S. prisoners of war identified in Iraqi films included <em>Lieutenant Colonel Clifford M. Acree</em> and <em>Chief Warrant Officer Guy L. Hunter (</em>I actually flew with Guy at Camp Pendleton<em>)</em>. Their OV-10 Bronco was shot down over southern Kuwait on January 18, 1991. It was the first and last OV-10 lost in combat. </div>
<br />
Those were the days.Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-87794303467429901742010-09-30T19:03:00.008-04:002019-02-17T13:48:06.545-05:00Seoul 1988 Reunion: Two Warriors (Son and Father) Both Serving in Korea<div align="center">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixcvSfQ-_4HXtUGN3cNP-6T8_6L_gKnSaNcttnrtNR9MCBV05tUZTh1Vrh1mO0o5VL27qlGxSx_bEvtB55TfANoQnOor8ibKLZn1EIfn3pyf3vcxXpzwyoWRiwORkt-6sphvmGeK_obY8/s1600/Dad+and+Danny+1987+Seoul.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="396" data-original-width="550" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixcvSfQ-_4HXtUGN3cNP-6T8_6L_gKnSaNcttnrtNR9MCBV05tUZTh1Vrh1mO0o5VL27qlGxSx_bEvtB55TfANoQnOor8ibKLZn1EIfn3pyf3vcxXpzwyoWRiwORkt-6sphvmGeK_obY8/s1600/Dad+and+Danny+1987+Seoul.JPG" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 15.5pt;">Author & son Danny </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 15.5pt;">(b.
Jan 14, 1966 — </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 15.5pt;">d. Nov 28, 2003) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 15.5pt;">He is now at rest in Arlington<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 15.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.5pt;">Picture taken on weekend in Seoul. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.5pt;">At the time he was a Sergeant serving in 2nd Infantry Division
up near the DMZ. I was posted in Seoul at Eighth Army Headquarters (also joint
UN/CFC/USFK) in G-3 Operations Division (Education and Training Branch). </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.5pt;">He previously had
jumped into Panama, helping capture General Manuel Noriega in
1989. He was wounded in action having </span><i style="font-size: 16.5pt;">jumped with the 1st Bn, 504
PIR at midnight to help capture and occupy the airfield.</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.5pt;">He then parachuted into
combat and served in the same unit in the first Gulf War. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.5pt;">He served his country
honorably, and I miss him every single day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span> </div>
Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1693846650430646809.post-30879251730123254652010-02-12T22:56:00.006-05:002012-11-28T23:54:11.484-05:00Chesty Puller: It's Leadership — Every Marine's Hero<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNt9_wuMt_jeso83ztoQKSXzw7ZrFfMB-S7SNckMjyZeOxo1MukQ13_pqirinDFu2_MhqzSIWJsBPxPknn4U0S0PQ_VJzAXjtB9vIrc-eQeQ_zg8sEk10PN2CTYHdELPuCs8tIEIVQkZE/s1600-h/Chesty+Puller.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439348892188349666" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNt9_wuMt_jeso83ztoQKSXzw7ZrFfMB-S7SNckMjyZeOxo1MukQ13_pqirinDFu2_MhqzSIWJsBPxPknn4U0S0PQ_VJzAXjtB9vIrc-eQeQ_zg8sEk10PN2CTYHdELPuCs8tIEIVQkZE/s320/Chesty+Puller.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 271px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a>Surrounded by 10 Chinese Divisions near the "Frozen Chosin Reservoir" in late 1950 deep in North Korea near the Chinese border, then-Colonel Chesty Puller rallied his Marines by saying:<br />
<br />
<strong>“Don’t forget that you’re First Marines. Not all the Communists in Hell can overrun you.”</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
The fought their way back to Wonsan Harbor and then were evacuated to safety. They lived to fight another day ... and they brought all their dead and wounded with them.<br />
<strong></strong><br />
That is leadership -- and that's what I will provide in the Senate if you give me your support and vote to win.<br />
<br />
My main page is now located <a href="http://danzview.blogspot.com/">here </a>- stop by and visit and bring a friend.Dan Francishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05955409095608520516noreply@blogger.com0