Ken 'N' Viet Nam

MP3 Song "Band-Aid For My Heart"

2009-06-06T19:45:00.009-04:00

Click on The Title to this Post for a Link to the MP3 Song.

I visited the 1/2 scale of the Healing Wall today 6/6/09 in Johnson City, Tn. After I looked up several names on the wall, I decided to go back to the fence which is about the width of a football field in order to capture the whole wall (which is 250' long) in a photo. While I was standing against the fence doing my thing with my camera, a lady came up to me and started making conversation. She had seen my cap. Then she presented her card to me along with a metal lapel pin. The pin is in the shape of a HEART with a BAND-AID on it. She then said that she was a member of "The Rolling Thunder" and that she is from Stapleton, NE. She then noticed my Montagnard Bracelet that I wear. She then showed me hers. I then asked her do you know the meaning of the symbols on both of our braclets. She said no, then I proceeded to explain the symbols. I told her that the groups of 3 rings around the bracelet represents the Bamboo in their lives. I told her that the Bamboo is their staple from everything to their homes to their everyday tools. Then I told her that the groups of 3 arrows symbolize their Crossbow Arrows. They take great pride in their hunting skills with their handmade crossbows. I then explained the stars symbolizing their friendship with everyone that wears their bracelets. She then looked @ her bracelet and noticed that the one of the symbols was made a little different. I told her that there were a number of different tribes in Viet Nam just like our American Indians. I went on to say that there is a Dega and a Bru tribe to name a couple. She said that a Viet Nam Veteran gave her her bracelet several years ago and told her to never remove it. After I got home, I typed in the URL that was on her card http://veteransmusicministry.com and as I was looking through her site I found the this link to a MP3 Song Titled Band-Aid For My Heart.

2009-06-05T11:47:00.002-04:00

This photo is of 5 Viet Nam Healing Wall Name Rubbings that I did electronically. Isn't the Internet a marvelous tool for communicating. These 5 names were my closest Brothers out of the 181 total names from my until 3rd Battalion/8th Inf. KIA in the entire war.

The GHOSTLY Figures of Names on the Vietnam Wall in Washington, D.C.

2009-04-20T18:30:00.012-04:00

You Must Double Click On This Photo To Enlarge It To Really See The Ghostly Figures Of Names On The Viet Nam Memorial (Healing Wall) in Washington, D.C.

I was just playing around with Google Earth. I decided to view the Vietnam Memorial Wall, which I have visited 2 times in the past. When I located it I zoomed in on it. As I was zooming in on it, I started seeing white specks on the black granite wall. Then it came to me, the greater than 58,000 names on the wall. The white specks appeared like ghost figures on the (healing) wall.

There are 280 names on the wall from my Battalion alone, including 61 names from my Company. Each line company had about 160 total when we were @ full strength. That's almost loosing 2 complete line companies from the 1st one killed 11/10/1966 until the last one fell on 5/23/1970.

You may ask, why do I dwell on the past. Some say it is a guilt trip. It's not for me to determine. I don't know why God picked Stanley Dix, Richard Wilkins and Cpt. Powers to die in the jungles of the Central Highlands along the Cambodian Border 9097 miles from home. Rest assured my friend, God had a purpose for calling them from this life and not me.

I don't know whether my name is listed in THE LAMBS BOOK OF LIFE in my final judgement or not. I was saved in the summer of 1961. I worship God everyday by playing the hymn "FACES", sung by "The Greater Vision" on my Cell Phone on my daily 2 mile walk through my neighborhood. Here is the lyrics to this song. I serve a most jealous God. Jealous in that he wants my undivided attention. He wants me to talk to him every day in prayer.

FACES

I DREAMED MY LIFE WAS DONE. I STOOD BEFORE GOD'S SON.
IT WAS TIME TO SEE WHAT MY REWARD WOULD BE
WITH LOVE HE REVIEWED MY LIFE TO COUNT WHAT WAS DONE FOR CHRIST.
FOR THAT IS WHAT WILL LAST ETERNALLY

SEE I'D DONE MY BEST TO SHARE THAT JESUS REALLY CARES
AND HE WOULD SAVE IF THEY JUST BELIEVE
OH, BUT SELDOM DID HARVEST COME AND SO FEW DID I SEE WON
UNTIL THE LORD SAID, "TURN AROUND AND SEE."

CHORUS:
THEN HE SHOWED ME THE FACES OF THE ONES WHO'D COME BECAUSE OF ME.
SO MANY FACES THAT MY LIFE HAD LED TO CALVARY
ALL THOSE YEARS I THOUGHT NOBODY SAW AS I LABORED IN LOWLY PLACES
THAT'S WHEN JESUS SMILED AND SHOWED ME ALL THE FACES.

HE SAID THOUGH YOU DID NOT SEE THE YIELD, YOU WERE FAITHFUL TO PLOW THE FIELD
AT OTHER TIMES YOU HELPED ME PLANT THE SEED
NO MATTER HOW SMALL THE TASK, YOU DID JUST AS I ASKED
AND THANKS TO YOU THESE SOULS HAVE BEEN SET FREE.

CHORUS:
THEN HE SHOWED ME THE FACES OF THE ONES WHO'D COME BECAUSE OF ME.
SO MANY FACES THAT MY LIFE HAD LED TO CALVARY
ALL THOSE YEARS I THOUGHT NOBODY SAW AS I LABORED IN LOWLY PLACES
THAT'S WHEN JESUS SMILED AND SHOWED ME ALL THE FACES

TAG:
AND FOR THOSE YEARS YOU THOUGHT NOBODY SAW AS YOU LABORED IN LOWLY PLACES
ONE DAY HE'LL SMILE AND SHOW YOU ALL THE FACES.

...THE FACES...YOU'LL SEE THEIR FACES.

Capt. Neville Colburn (The Pineapple..My "B" Company Commander)

2009-04-14T19:22:00.005-04:00

This Photo was furnished by Bill Bodine

Double click on the image to increse the % size of the image

I was sad to hear about Capt. Colburn's passing on 5/17/1993. He was only 52 @ his passing. I have some wonderful memories of Capt. Colburn. I still remember him Sernading us with his Guitar and song way back in early 1966 when we were in Advanced Individual Training @ Fort Lewis, Washington. He was a really good leader and an excellent map reader. He knew how to take care of us kids. I had a lot of respect for him for that.

Lt. Charles Arthur Barrett II and Capt. Clayton Powers

2009-04-14T18:54:00.007-04:00

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Photo courtesy of Bill Bodine. Photo is of Lt. Charles Arthur Barrett and Capt. James Conrad Powers. Both men were killed in Action. Capt. Powers was killed 5/26/1967 in Battle of Plei Doch and Lt. Barrett was killed 7/23/1967 in the Battle of Plei Ya Bo. Bill was telling me in an email that Lt. Johnson & Lt. Barrett had a Chevy Corvette and a Jaguar XKE and they brought 2 women to his barracks one weekend. I told him that I remember the incident and how I slobbered over the two cars and not the women.

Lt. Clayton Johnson

2009-04-14T18:47:00.003-04:00

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Photo courtesy of Bill Bodine. Lt. Johnson, C/3rd/8th of the 4th Infantry Division was killed 5/26/1967 in the Battle of Plei Doch

Andrew York,,,Survived the grasp of his enemy, the NVA

2009-04-13T16:53:00.005-04:00

Double Click on the Photo to increase the Image Size

Photo Courtesy of Bill Bodine

A True Story about Andrew York C/3rd/8^th, 4^th Infantry Division---Battle of Plei Ya Bo

My Interpretation of the text accompanying this photo furnished to me by Bill Bodine

Captured U.S. Soldier Chews Ropes On His Wrists to Survive Vietnam Clash

AP Wire photo

PFC, Andrew York, 19, rests in a hospital at Tuy Hoa, South Vietnam, after being rescued.

Andrew York’s Story:

Along the Cambodian Border in South Vietnam –(AP)—

Andrew York bit desperately into the crude ropes binding his wrists, tearing at the strands with his teeth and unmindful of the blood the rough fibers drew.

Minutes earlier the 19-year-old from the 4^th Infantry Division was being carried into captivity by North Vietnamese soldiers who had overwhelmed his platoon in the rain forest along the border between Vietnam and Cambodia.

ARMS GRABBED

Both of York’s legs had been shattered by a mortar round as he was firing his machinegun at the dozen brown clad Vietnamese rushing at him through elephant grass. He fainted. When he came to, the roar of battle was stilled, his wrists were tied to his belt, and his Communist captors stood around him.

Two of them grabbed his arms, two others his feet, and York—from the little town of Chelsea, Maine, married on May 5 to his childhood sweetheart and sent to Vietnam a week later—was on his way to captivity.

But the battle last Sunday was by no means over.

Circling overhead in a helicopter was the battalion commander, Lt. Col. Thomas P. Lynch of Spokane, Wash., who called for silence on the radio net so he could hear the last man on the platoon’s radio set.

Artillery Hits Jungle

“Charger (the battalion commander’s code name), everyone else is dead,” the voice said. There were some mumbled words about home and mother. Then “Charger, I’m dying.” The set went silent.

Lynch assumed that everyone in the platoon was killed. Numerous North Vietnamese could be seen below. He ordered artillery barrages on top of them.

York, numb with pain, was being carried into the Jungle as the first rounds came in. The two North Vietnamese carrying his legs were killed in the first blast. The men at his shoulders dropped him to the ground.

“I realized they were our shells,” York said later at a hospital. “I was sure the Communist would kill me then, what had they to lose? And if they didn’t, then our Artillery would get me. I thought I was dead for sure. All that I could do was pray, and you better believe I was praying.”

Freed His Wrists

The Barrage ended quickly. York was alone beside the two dead men who had been carrying his legs. He tugged painfully at his belt and pulled his wrists free so he could get his teeth to the ropes. Then he started chewing feverishly.

The North Vietnamese battalion that had overwhelmed the 30-man platoon, killing 18 of the Americans, had reached the company perimeter where another 30 Americans were lying in foxholes.

Commanded by Capt. William C. Pratt of Edimburg, Tex., they were soon under rocket and machine attack from the shadowy figures at the edge of the clearing.

In a forward foxhole Sp, 4 Robert Rohan, from Omro, Wis., fired a claymore mine, shattering a patch of jungle with lethal pellets. Later, 11 dead Communists soldiers were found there with three rocket launchers and two machineguns beside them.

The big American guns to the rear slammed 6.682 shells at the enemy in 3 hours. U.S. Air Force bombers roared in, searing the jungle and grassy clearings with Napalm and bombs. Armed helicopters slashed at trails with machine guns.

Neutralized by Fire

One of Capt. Pratt’s platoons fought its way back to the Company perimeter. Then Capt. Neil D. Buie, came bursting across the clearing with his 120 men of “B” company/3^rd/8^th.

From then on, it became a “mechanical process..” Lynch said, á complete destruction and neutralization of the enemy with heavy gunfire.

North Vietnamese came running from the jungle to surrender, their hands clasped in front of them.

In all, 170 Communist were killed, 19 Americans were dead.

Alive amid the destruction were Pfc. York and ten others in his platoon, all wounded. York had managed to chew through his ropes, had dragged his mangled legs through the jungle to join up with some of his buddies, and gave a very painful cheer as he rejoined his troops.

Good Night Saigon....By Billy Joel

2009-03-24T18:23:00.005-04:00

Click on the title to this blog entry to hear "Goodnight Saigon"

Comments About This Song:

This song came out right at the time when the tide turned in the U.S., and all those idiots who spat on the returning Vietnam vets became pariahs, and the vets were finally given a very belated apology for the indignity handed out to them upon their return. The first time I heard this song, I got the lump in the throat. You may think I am making it up, but I remember at the age of four being very angry when I saw footage of the returning veterans being insulted in airports. Good for Billy for making such a touching tribute, and all you douche bags throwing out gratuitous insults at him need to go to the nearest five-and-dime and purchase a life.

Listen folks, this song is sacred to those who fought in Vietnam. Why don't you just leave it alone and let the Vets have it? After a war like that and the disrespect the vets endured when they came back home, it was great that someone in the early 80's was finally brave enough to pay them tribute. You sit there and complain about gunfire, stupid lyrics.... LEAVE IT ALONE. Just respect the men who understand it.

Joel recently said that in the early 1980's a group of Veitnam vets came to him an urged him to write a song about their experiences there. He said he couldn't do it since he never served. They told him that it made him the perfect choice to write it - that real Vietnam vets couldn't get over the emotions involved to write a song about it. So Joel spent several days listening to their stories and then got their approval before recording the song.

What does the Bible say about war?

2009-02-09T20:34:00.006-05:00

Question: "What does the Bible say about war?"

Answer: Many people make the mistake of believing the Bible says, “You shall not kill,” and seek to apply this command to war. However, the Bible actually says, “You shall not murder” (Exodus 20:13). The Hebrew word literally means “the intentional, premeditated killing of another person with malice.” God often ordered the Israelites to go to war with other nations (1 Samuel 15:3; Joshua 4:13). God ordered the death penalty for numerous crimes (Exodus 21:12; 21:15; 22:19; Leviticus 20:11). So, God is not against killing in all circumstances, but rather only murder. War is never a good thing, but sometimes it is a necessary thing. In a world filled with sinful people (Romans 3:10-18), war is inevitable. Sometimes the only way to keep sinful people from doing great harm is by going to war with them.War is a terrible thing! War is always the result of sin (Romans 3:10-18). In the Old Testament, God ordered the Israelites to: “Take vengeance on the Midianites for the Israelites” (Numbers 31:2). See also Deuteronomy 20:16-17, “However, in the cities of the nations the LORD your God is giving you as an inheritance, do not leave alive anything that breathes. Completely destroy them--the Hittites, Amorites, Canaanites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites--as the LORD your God has commanded you.” Exodus 17:16 proclaims, “He said, "For hands were lifted up to the throne of the LORD. The LORD will be at war against the Amalekites from generation to generation." Also, 1 Samuel 15:18, “Go and completely destroy those wicked people, the Amalekites; make war on them until you have wiped them out.” So, obviously God is not against all war. Jesus is always in perfect agreement with the Father (John 10:30), so we cannot argue that war was only God’s will in the Old Testament. God does not change (Malachi 3:6; James 1:17).Jesus’ Second Coming also is exceedingly violent. Revelation 19:11-21 proclaims, “I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice he judges and makes war. His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on him that no one knows but he himself. He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God. The armies of heaven were following him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean. Out of his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. "He will rule them with an iron scepter." He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS. And I saw an angel standing in the sun, who cried in a loud voice to all the birds flying in midair, "Come, gather together for the great supper of God, so that you may eat the flesh of kings, generals, and mighty men, of horses and their riders, and the flesh of all people, free and slave, small and great." Then I saw the beast and the kings of the earth and their armies gathered together to make war against the rider on the horse and his army. But the beast was captured, and with him the false prophet who had performed the miraculous signs on his behalf. With these signs he had deluded those who had received the mark of the beast and worshiped his image. The two of them were thrown alive into the fiery lake of burning sulfur. The rest of them were killed with the sword that came out of the mouth of the rider on the horse, and all the birds gorged themselves on their flesh.”It is an error to say that God never supports a war. Jesus is not a pacifist. In a world filled with evil people, sometimes a war is necessary to prevent even greater evil. If Hitler had not been defeated by World War II, how many more millions of Jews would have been killed? If the Civil War had not been fought, how much longer would African Americans have had to suffer as slaves? We must all remember to base our beliefs of the Bible, not on our emotions (2 Timothy 3:16-17).Ecclesiastes 3:8 declares, “there is…a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. In a world filled with sin, hatred, and evil (Romans 3:10-18), war is inevitable. Some wars are more “just” than others, but all wars are ultimately the result of sin. Christians should not desire war, but neither are Christians to oppose the government God has placed in authority over them (Romans 13:1-4; 1 Peter 2:17). The most important thing we can be doing in a time of war is to be praying for godly wisdom for our leaders, praying for the safety of our military, praying for quick resolution to the conflict, and praying for minimum casualties – on both sides of the conflict (Philippians 4:6-7).

What does the Bible say about a Christian serving in the military?

2009-02-09T20:25:00.005-05:00

Question: "What does the Bible say about a Christian serving in the military?"

Answer: The Bible contains a large quantity of information about serving in the military. While large portions of the military information contained in the Bible are only analogies, several verses directly relate to this question. No, the Bible does not come out and specifically state “Thou shalt serve in the military;” and in contrast it also does not state “Thou shalt not serve in the military.” At the same time, Christians can rest assured that being a soldier is highly respected throughout the Bible, and know that such service is consistent with a Biblical worldview.The first example of military service is found in the Old Testament (Genesis 14), when Abraham's nephew Lot was kidnapped by Chedorlaomer, king of Elam, and his allies. Abraham rallied to Lot's aid by gathering 318 trained men of his household and defeating the foreign forces.Late in its history, the nation of Israel developed a standing army. The sense that God was the Divine Warrior and would protect His people regardless of their military strength may have been a reason why Israel was slow to develop an army. The development of a regular standing army in Israel came only after a strong, centralized political system had been developed by Saul, David, and Solomon. Saul was the first to form a permanent army (1 Samuel 13:2; 24:2; 26:2). Nevertheless, the army had to be supported by food and other supplies from the homes of individual soldiers (1 Samuel 17:17-19).What Saul began, David continued. He increased the army, brought in hired troops from other regions who were loyal to him alone (2 Samuel 15:19-22), and turned over the direct leadership of his armies to a commander in chief (Joab). Under David, Israel also became more aggressive in its offensive military policies, absorbing neighboring states like Ammon (2 Samuel 11:1; 1 Chronicles 20:1-3). David established a system of rotating troops with 12 groups of 24,000 men serving one month of the year (1 Chronicles 27). Although Solomon's reign was peaceful, he further expanded the army, adding chariots and horsemen (1 Kings 10:26). The standing army continued (though divided along with the kingdom after the death of Solomon) until 586 B.C., when Israel ceased to exist as a political entity.Jesus marveled when a Roman Centurion (officer in charge of one hundred soldiers) approached Him. The Centurion’s response to Jesus indicated his clear understanding of authority, as well as his faith in Jesus (Matthew 8:5-13). Jesus did not denounce his career. Many Centurions mentioned in the New Testament are praised as Christians, God-fearers, and men of good character (Matthew 8:5,8,13; 27:54; Mark 15:39,44-45; Luke 7:2,6; 23:47; Acts 10:1,22; 21:32; 22:25-26; 23:17,23; 24:23; 27:1,6,11,31,43; 28:16).Historically the places and the titles may have changed, but our armed forces should be just as favorably valued as the Centurions of the Bible. Being a soldier was highly revered. For example, Paul describes Epaphroditus, a fellow Christian as a “fellow soldier” (Philippians 2:25). The Bible also uses military terms to describe being strong in the Lord by putting on the whole armor of God (Ephesians 6:10-20).Yes, the Bible does address serving in the military, directly and implicitly. The Christian men and women who serve their country with character, dignity, and honor, can rest assured that the civic duty they perform is condoned and respected by our Sovereign God. Those who serve in the military deserve our respect and our thanks.

Open Letter To Vietnam Veterans.....

2008-11-13T20:35:00.003-05:00

Dear Hero,
I was in my twenties during the Vietnam era. I was a single mother and, I’m sad to say, I was probably one of the most self-centered people on the planet. To be perfectly honest I didn’t care one way or the other about the war. All I cared about was me…how I looked, what I wore, and where I was going. I worked and I played, I was never politically involved in anything, but I allowed my opinions to be formed by the media. It happened without my ever being aware. I listened to the protest songs and I watched the six o’clock news and I listened to all people who were talking. After awhile, I began to repeat their words and, if you were to ask me, I’d have told you I was against the war. It was very popular. Everyone was doing it, and we never saw what it was doing to our to our brave men. All we were shown was what they sere doing to the people of Vietnam.
My brother joined the Navy and then he was sent to Vietnam. When he came home, I repeated the words to him. It surprised me at how angry he became. I hurt him very deeply and there were years of separation –not only of miles, but also of character. I didn’t understand.
In fact, I didn’t understand anything until one day I opened my newspaper and saw the anguished face of a Vietnam veteran. The picture was taken at the opening of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. His countenance revealed the terrible burden of his soul. As I looked at his picture and his tears, I finally understood a tiny portion of what you had given for us and what we had done to you. I understood that I had been manipulated, but I also knew that I had failed to think for myself. It was like waking up out of a nightmare, except that the nightmare was real. I didn’t know what to do.
One day about three years ago. I went to a member of the church I attended at that time, because he had served in Vietnam. I asked him if he had been in Vietnam, and he got a look on his face and said, ‘Yes’. Then I took his hand, looked him square in the face, and said. “Thank you for going.” His jaw dropped, he got an amazed look on his face, and then he said, “No one has ever said that to me.” He hugged me and I could see that he was about to get tears in his eyes. It gave me an idea, because there is much more that needs to be said. How do we put into words all the regret of so many years? I don’t know, but when I have an opportunity, I take it so here goes.
Have you been to Vietnam? If so, I have something I want to say to you-Thank you for going! Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Please forgive me for my insensitivity. I don’t know how I could have been so blind, but I was. When I woke up, you were wounded and the damage was done, and I don’t know how to fix it. I will never stop regretting my actions, and I will never let it happen again.
Please understand that I am speaking for the general public also. We know we blew it and we don’t know how to make it up to you. We wish we had been there for you when you came home from Vietnam because you were a hero and you deserved better. Inside of you there is a pain that will never completely go away and you know what? It’s inside us, too; because when we let you down, we hurt ourselves, too. We all know it and we suffer guilt and we don’t know what to do so we cheer for our troops and write letters to ‘any soldier’ and we hang out the yellow ribbons and fly the flag and we love America. We love you too, even if it doesn’t feel like it to you. I know in my heart that, when we cheer wildly for our troops, part of the reason is trying to make up for Vietnam. And while it may work for us, it does nothing for you.
We failed you. You didn’t fail us, but we failed you and we lost our only chance to be grateful to you at the time when you needed and deserved it. We have disgraced ourselves and brought shame to our country. We did it and we need your forgiveness. Please say you will forgive us and please take your rightful place as heroes of our country. We have learned a terrible painful lesson at your expense and we don’t know how to fix it.

From the heart,
Julie Weaver

Taking Sniper Fire

2008-07-27T13:32:00.004-04:00

TAKING SNIPER FIRE

I remember distinctly taking my camera out to take a photo of the Rice Patty that we crossing in single file. Then all of a sudden we started taking Sniper Fire from the treeline ahead of us. It was an often harassing tactic to take long range sniper shots of us while we were out in the open. I still remember us having to go DOUBLE TIME (Running) at our enemy and as usual they were gone when we got to the treeline. You know what? After all of the commotion was over, I discovered that I had lost my most prized possession to the Rice Patty while running at the enemy after the incident. I had lost my BOWIE KNIFE. All that I had was an empty Knife Sheath.

My Favorite Song Back In 1967 "PAINT IT BLACK" just click on this title to play the song

2008-06-11T21:31:00.001-04:00

Photo Of Me Holding The Head End Of A Dead Burmese Python

2008-06-10T11:21:00.003-04:00

Click On The Image To Enlarge

Thanks to Tommy Routh for this photo of me holding the head end of a Giant Burmese Python, one of the largest snakes in the world.

I can not remember the details of how we killed the giant snake. Ordinarily you would think that I could remember the details but I can not. I can't even remember the boys name in the middle of this photo. I remember the boy on the right though because I was with him ever since boot camp. He is George Talton, small because of all the weight that he had to endure caring all the heavy rounds for his M-79 Grenade Launcher

General Vo Nguyen Giap

2008-03-25T18:09:00.002-04:00

Born: 1912 Place of Birth: An Xa Vietnam Military University: none
Wars Fought:-World War II-First Indochina War(French-Indochina War 1946-1954)-Second Indochina War(Vietnam War 1965-1972)-Third Indochina War 1979-81Vietnam War:Gen. Giap planned and directed the military operations against the French that culminated in their defeat at the Battle of Dien Bien Phu in 1954.
During the 1960's Giap controlled guerrilla operations against South Vietnam and the United States and planned the Tet Offensive of 1968.
In his book, Giap clearly indicated that NVA troops were without sufficient supplies, and had been continually defeated time and again.
By 1968, NVA morale was at it's lowest point ever. The plans for "Tet" '68 was their last desperate attempt to achieve a success, in an effort to boost the NVA morale. When it was over, General Giap and the NVA viewed the Tet '68 offensive as a failure, they were on their knees and had prepared to negotiate a surrender.
At that time, there were fewer than 10,000 U.S. casualties, the Vietnam War was about to end, as the NVA was prepared to accept their defeat. Then, they heard Walter Cronkite (former CBS News anchor and correspondent) on TV proclaiming the success of the Tet '68 offensive by the communist NVA. They were completely and totally amazed at hearing that the US Embassy had been overrun. In reality, The NVA had not gained access to the Embassy--there were some VC who had been killed on the grassy lawn, but they hadn't gained access. Further reports indicated the riots and protesting on the streets of America.
According to Giap, these distorted reports were inspirational to the NVA. They changed their plans from a negotiated surrender and decided instead, they only needed to persevere for one more hour, day, week, month, eventually the protesters in American would help them to achieve a victory they knew they could not win on the battlefield. Remember, this decision was made at a time when the U.S. casualties were fewer than 10,000, at the end of 1967, beginning of 1968.

General Giap was a brilliant, highly respected leader of the North Vietnam Military. The following quote is from his memoirs currently found in the Vietnam war memorial in Hanoi. "What we still don't understand is why you Americans stopped the bombing of Hanoi. You had us on the ropes. If you had pressed us a little harder, just for another day or two, we were ready to surrender! It was the same at the battles of TET. You defeated us! We knew it, and we thought you knew it. But we were elated to notice your media was definitely helping us. They were causing more disruption in America than we could in the battlefields. We were ready to surrender. You had won!" General Giap has published his memoirs and confirmed what most Americans knew. The Vietnam war was not lost in Vietnam -- it was lost at home. The exact same slippery slope, sponsored by the US media, is currently well underway. It exposes the enormous power of a biased media to cut out the heart and will of the American public. A truism worthy of note: Do not fear the enemy, for they can take only your life. Fear the media far more, for they will destroy your honour.

This is What I Ate 3 Times a Day Per 365 days

2008-03-24T13:38:00.006-04:00

C-RATIONS
Commercially prepared meals were used in the field and at times when hot meals were not available. These meals came in a case containing 12 meals. Each meal was in it's own cardboard box, which contained the individual items sealed in cans. A can opener (called both a "John Wayne" or a "P-38") was needed to open the cans. The accessory pack with each meal was sealed in a foil pouch.
This is the official Quartermaster's description of C-Rations used in Vietnam
"The Meal, Combat, Individual, is designed for issue as the tactical situation dictates, either in individual units as a meal or in multiples of three as a complete ration. Its characteristics emphasize utility, flexibility of use, and more variety of food components than were included in the Ration, Combat, Individual (C Ration) which it replaces. Twelve different menus are included in the specification.
Each menu contains: one canned meat item; one canned fruit, bread or dessert item; one B unit; an accessory packet containing cigarettes, matches, chewing gum, toilet paper, coffee, cream, sugar, and salt; and a spoon. Four can openers are provided in each case of 12 meals. Although the meat item can be eaten cold, it is more palatable when heated.
Each complete meal contains approximately 1200 calories. The daily ration of 3 meals provides approximately 3600 calories."

There were 4 choices of meat in each B group. Because there were several "vintages" of C’s issued to the Marines in Vietnam, more than 4 items may be listed in the B groups as well as the brands of cigarettes included in the accessory pack.

B-1 Units
Meat Choices (in small cans):
Beef Steak
Ham and Eggs,
Chopped Ham Slices
Turkey Loaf
Fruit:
Applesauce
Fruit Cocktail
Peaches
Pears
Crackers
Peanut Butter Candy Disc,
Chocolate
Solid Chocolate
Cream Coconut
Accessory Pack*
*Accessory Pack
Spoon, Plastic
Salt
Pepper
Coffee,
Instant Sugar
Creamer, Non-dairy
Gum,
2 Chicklets
Cigarettes, 4 smokes/pack Winston or Marlboro or Salem or Pall Mall or Camel or Chesterfield or Kent or Lucky Strike Kool Matches, Moisture Resistant Toilet Paper

B-2 Units
Meat Choices (in larger cans):
Beans and Wieners
Spaghetti and Meatballs
Beefsteak, Potatoes and Gravy
Ham and Lima Beans
Meatballs and Beans
Crackers (4)
Cheese Spread, Processed Caraway Pimento
Fruit Cake Pecan
Roll Pound Cake
Accessory Pack
Spoon, Plastic
Salt
Pepper
Coffee,
Instant Sugar
Creamer, Non-dairy
Gum, 2 Chicklets
Cigarettes, 4 smokes/pack: Winston or Marlboro or Salem or Pall Mall or Camel or Chesterfield or Kent or Lucky Strike or Kool
Matches, Moisture Resistant
Toilet Paper

B-3 Units
Meat Choices (in small cans):
Boned Chicken
Chicken and Noodles
Meat Loaf
Spiced Beef
Bread
White Cookies (4)
Cocoa Beverage Powder
Jam: Apple or Berry or Grape or Strawberry
Mixed Fruit
Accessory Pack
Spoon, Plastic
Salt
Pepper
Coffee, Instant
Sugar
Creamer, Non-dairy
Gum, 2 Chicklets
Cigarettes, 4 smokes/pack : Winston or Marlboro or Salem or Pall Mall or Camel or Chesterfield or Kent or Lucky Strike or Kool
Matches, Moisture Resistant
Toilet Paper

How to make a C-Ration Stove:
The small cans included in the meal were ideal for making a stove. Using a "John Wayne" pierce a series of closely spaced holes around the top and
bottom rims of the can. This stove was satisfactory, but did not allow enough oxygen to enter which caused incomplete burning of the blue Trioxin heat tablet, causing fumes which irritated the eyes and respiratory tract. A whole heat tab had to be used.
A better stove was created by simply using the can opener end of a "church key" (a flat metal device designed to open soft drink and beer containers with a bottle opener on one end and can opener on the other commonly used before the invention of the pull tab and screw-off bottle top) to puncture triangular holes around the top and bottom rims of the can which resulted in a hotter fire and much less fumes. With this type of stove only half a Trioxin heat tab was needed to heat the meal and then the other half could be used to heat water for coffee or cocoa. A small chunk of C-4 explosive could also be substituted for the Trioxin tablet for faster heating. It would burn hotter and was much better for heating water. . A stove was usually carried in the back pack or cargo pocket and used repeatedly until the metal began to fail.

How to Heat a C-Ration Meal:
1. Choose the meal to be consumed
2. Open the can lid leaving at least 1/4 inch metal attached
3. Bend the still attached lid so that the inside of the can lid is facing 180 degrees from it's original position (inside up).
4. Bend the edges of the can to form a handle
5. Set meal on stove and heat to desired temperature, stirring frequently to prevent burning.

"Outstanding" Ham & Mothers:
1. Open and heat a can of Ham and Lima Beans
2. When hot, add one can of cheese spread and stir until all cheese is melted.
3. Crumble 4 crackers into the mixture and blend thoroughly.
Eat when the crackers have absorbed all excess moisture.

The Son

2007-12-12T08:42:00.001-05:00

A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art. When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.

About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands. He said, "Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art.

" The young man held out this package. "I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this."

The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture.

"Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift."

The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.

The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection. On the platform sat the painting of the son.

The auctioneer pounded his gavel. "We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?"

There was silence. Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, "We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one."

But the auctioneer persisted. "Will somebody bid for this painting. Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?"

Another voice angrily. "We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Goghs, the Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids!"

But still the auctioneer continued. "The son! The son! Who'll take the son?"

Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. "I'll give $10 for the painting." Being a poor man, it was all he could afford. "

We have $10, who will bid $20?

"Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters."

"$10 is the bid, won't someone bid $20?”

The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son. They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections.

The auctioneer pounded the gavel. "Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!"

A man sitting on the second row shouted, "Now let's get on with the collection!"

The auctioneer laid down his gavel. "I'm sorry, the auction is over."

"What about the paintings?"

"I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings. The man who takes the son gets everything!"

God gave His son 2,000 year ago to die on a cruel cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is, "The son, the son, who'll take the son?" Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything.

Isn't It Time To Ask Vietnam Veterans For Forgiveness? By Patrick Butler

2007-09-25T17:46:00.001-04:00

I don't mean running up to Vets and doing it one by one, though that's not a bad idea.
I mean a well-publicized official, ceremonial event where somebody with influence, position and corresponding power actually asks Vietnam veterans to forgive the people of this nation for how they were treated during and after the war.
I don't mean an "honoring" ceremony per se, lauding their sacrifice for this country. That's different and it's been done by some. I mean humbling ourselves as a nation, officially recognizing that a great wrong has been done by us, the people. Collectively. No one making excuses or saying "yeah, but" for any reason...

Hasn't this been done already? Evidently not. Talking too "recent" veterans from Afghanistan and Iraq, one 52 and another 25 years old, they both made comments about Vietnam.
"I'm so glad we're past Vietnam and how those soldiers were treated by the public," said Lt. Col. Victor Zillmer of the Army's Corp of Engineers. "I'm very thankful people everywhere have been very supportive and that means a lot to us. We serve the people and politics has no part of it. I think ever soldier feels the same way."
Zillmer's comment reveals that soldiers today still think about Viet-nam and how America shot its own wounded. Vietnam vets have memories no other veterans have to deal with. It's the healing of those memories I'm talking about. There are just some things a ribbon, or a wall sculpture or a "thank you for serving" won't touch.
They need to hear us say, "Please forgive us. We were wrong."
I was chatting with Lt. Justin Lee for a Memorial Day story when he stopped, realizing I'd been present during the Vietnam War years.
"What was that like?" he asked. "How did people really react to the vets coming home?"
My mind reeled. In front of me was a young man who hadn't a real idea of what it felt like to be an American male during the Vietnam War. I'm 54 now and I realized I held a key to our past the younger generation can only grasp at.
What to tell the young lieutenant? Images of citizens shouting, "Hell no, we won't go" or crowds singing "Country Joe" McDonald's anthem of the late '60s "I Feel Like I'm Fixin' To Die Rag" or violent protests meeting GIs after they got off the plane from "in-country" flashed before my eyes. I can feel it now.
"It was a time when soldiers were thought of by many people as agents of an abusive power," I said, finally, feeling helpless to paint the big picture. "Some people felt betrayed by their own government. Some protesters, who didn't know much, only knew they were being asked to potentially die for something they didn't understand. The soldiers took the heat."
Lee shook his head.
"I'm glad I didn't have to go through that," he said.
The Vietnam ghost is still with us and not just as a comparison to current events. It's in the far-reaching memories of the young men and women who came home to an aggressive atmosphere and still recall the uncomfortable and perhaps searing experience.
Who among us easily forgets a single insult or comment said in spite? If Christians in particular want a "scriptural" basis to ask forgiveness, take another look at Matthew 5:23: "If you are offering your gift at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, first go and be reconciled to your brother; then come and offer your gift."
It has been far too long that the spectacle of how we, us, treated our soldiers, is still lingering in the minds of new and old veterans alike. We need to put it to rest. And we need to do it while the Vietnam Vets are still alive. We need to identify with the wrong done to them as "our" wrong, even "my wrong," not someone Else's, taking collective responsibility and enabling this healing to our national psyche.
Back in 1971, I wrote letters to soldiers - strangers, while they were in Vietnam. I wasn't angry at them. But I'm embarrassed they were reviled at home and I'm not going to point fingers at who was responsible.
We're responsible. Us. They were our soldiers. They're our people. I hope, wish, that every religious leader on this Memorial Day Sunday will ask Vietnam vets in their congregation for forgiveness. We need to do it for them first, and then for us.
Vietnam Vets, please forgive us. We didn't really know what we were doing. It was our pride and arrogance that got in the way, thinking more of our ourselves than of you. There really is no excuse for it. We'd be grateful if you forgave us and let us embrace you once again, and that in turn you would honor us by embracing us as well.
God bless you.

From the Heart of a Vietnam Veteran

2007-09-22T21:31:00.001-04:00

From the Heart of a Vietnam Veteran

It seems so many have forgotten the meaning of Veterans Day. But what makes it so special a day that every American should take a moment to reflect, and thank those who served?
Veterans Day isn't simply about the men and women who served in the Armed Forces of this great country. It's about their sacrifices, heroism, and unselfish dedication to the United States of America. It's about their willingness to lay down their lives for the ideals on which this country was founded. It's about sacrificing their lives so someone else may live.
It's about giving their all that others may have freedom. It's about fighting in the mountains, jungles and deserts in a foreign land, in the hope the same battles will never have to be fought in their homeland.
It's about fighting oppression to allow others the power to express their opinions and views, without fear of reprisal and sanction.
It's about vowing to "leave no one behind" and carrying a comrade in arms from the battlefield on your shoulders in the hopes he will live, but knowing that at the very least, he will be buried in his beloved country.
It's about enduring the horror of war in the hopes your children will never have to do the same. It's about laying in the mud, or sand or in a hole, and praying that the shelling will end. And looking at your buddies alongside you, and whispering words of hope and encouragement.
It's about being dead tired and still finding the strength to go on, sometimes when the odds are so heavily against you that it almost appears hopeless.
It's about the doctors and nurses who endure hell with you and work tirelessly tending the wounded. It's about visiting a buddy in the hospital and reassuring him that he'll be OK. It's about writing a letter home for someone who will never return home.
It's about writing that letter for yourself, just in case you are one of the unlucky ones, and putting it in your pack where it would be found.
It's about cursing and swearing and praying and hoping. It's about crying and smiling, sometimes at the same time. It's about working and fighting side by side. It's about a common goal, where personal wants and needs are forgotten. It's about the sharing of a smoke or a candy bar, or cookies sent from home.
It's about the looks on the face of a serviceman when he sees death and carnage for the first time.
And it's about the face and smile of a child who has been rescued from the ravages of war, even if only for a while.
It's about the fields of white crosses and rows of simple bronze markers in cemeteries throughout the country, marking the graves of brave men and women. It's about the graves on foreign shores where many died in the name of freedom, but who never were able to come home.
It's for the veteran shedding a tear while remembering friends and comrades from long ago.
It's for the prisoners of war who endured the misery and torture of captivity in enemy hands.
It's for those who venture out in storms because the book says they have to, but the book doesn't say they have to return.
And it's for the families of those brave men and women, who fight a personal battle every day their loved ones are gone.
No, Veterans Day isn't simply a specified moment in time. It's a day where every one of us needs to thank those who served this great country, both the living and those who have passed on. Those of us who served will never forget them; please take a moment to remember them too.

The veteran who wrote this wishes to remain anonymous.

Photo of a map of the 2 large Battles that I was in

2007-06-19T19:59:00.002-04:00

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This is a Google Photo that I made from Google Earth. The bottom pin is Plei Ya Bo, the middle pin is Plei Doch and the upper pin is Dak To. The NVA used the tactic to ambush us and then break off and run for the Cambodian Border. The Battle for Dak To occurred the week before I was preparing to come home. I came home, in late November 1967. This famous battle in the grids YB, occurred right in the corner of Viet Nam-Laos-Cambodia. I lost 77 of my brothers in these 3 battles.

Photo of a Vietmamese $20 Dollar Bill

2007-06-19T19:42:00.001-04:00

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Photo of a $10 Viet Nam Bill

2007-05-28T22:40:00.001-04:00

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This is a photo of a $10 Dollar Vietnamese Bill

Photo of My Friend Stanly Wesley Dix

2007-05-24T22:02:00.001-04:00

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This is the only photo that I have of Stanley W. Dix. He was killed in the Battle for Pleiu Ya Bo (Three Trees). He is the kid on the right side of the photo. I supper imposed a photo that I took of Stanley W Dix name on the Viet Nam Wall about 3 years ago during the time of my nephews wedding. So far I been able to visit the HEALING WALL a couple of times.

Photo Of A Small Montygnard Boy Riding His Water Buffalo

2007-05-22T13:52:00.001-04:00

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My good ole buddy Tommy Routh sent me a CD today 5/19/2007 with a collection of his photos. Boy does this photo bring back ole memories.This Photo is of a small Montygnard boy riding his >2000 lb. Water Buffalo.You see they are a very docile creature to the Montygnard People. They would listen to every command for the "YARDS" and mind them but if a G.I. appeared before them would snort and get really aggressive toward them. It's as if they feared us as their enemy, and to a certain degree we were. I still remember our higher ups giving us orders to shoot & kill all of them that we would see out in the BUSH (away from the Montygnards Villages). We operated on the rule if anything moved around us to SHOOT it! You see any wild Water Buffalo's roaming out in the wild would often be taken by the Viet Cong or the North Vietnamese Regulars and used to carry all of their supplies from the Hoa Chi Minh Trail into the Pleiku Providence to supply their forces.I remember our M16 (.223 Caliber) bullets would only make them mad. We usually had to bring them down with our M60 Machine Guns (.30 Cal.). Then it took several rounds to bring one them down. NEVER-NEVER did we kill one of the "Yards" Water Buffaloes unless they were paid visits by the NVA. The NVA would often take the "Yards" food and rape their women and it is too awful to say what they would do to the Montygnards Village Chiefs and elders. Then orders would come down for a mass evacuation of entire Villages minus their Water Buffaloes and then we kill their Water Buffaloes. Our Engineers would build them new villages to settle in. I remember all of our relationships with the Montygnards. They are a POLYNESIAN people and not Asian. They were are most loyal Allies and what did we to them--WE PULLED OUT AND LEFT THEM TO PROTECT THEMSELVES AGAINST THE WHOLE NORTH VIETNAMESE ARMY. I have read all kinds of horror stories about them since then. We brought back a small % and settled them in down in Ashboro, N.C.

Photo Of A 155mm Selfpropelled Artillery Piece

2007-05-22T13:41:00.001-04:00

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Thank to Tommy Routh for this photo of A 155mm Self Propelled Artillery Piece. These were @ our Forward Fire Base. I'ts no wonder that I have a hearing problem. The concussion from one of these babies was something else. We had to stand guard out in front of these big guns and we didn't know when they were starting a fire mission. The only hearing protection that we had were our two hands.

Photo "After Our Battle at Three Trees"

2007-03-01T15:14:00.001-05:00

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I took this photo after our famous "Battle at Three Trees". I thought how Ironically this photo depicts the "Battle at Three Trees. You have to imagine the Bush country to my rear (approx. 50 meters) as I took this photo. That's where the NVA attacked us from. Charles Flood tells all about this battle in his book "THE WAR OF THE INNOCENTS"

Photo Of A Solid Gold Buddha That I Took While On R&R In Bangkok, Thailand

2007-02-25T16:06:00.001-05:00

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I took this photo of a real solid gold Buddha in August of 1967 while I was on R&R in Bangkok, Thailand. I have a lot of photos of this beautiful city.

Photo Of Me Resting @ One Of Our Forward Base Camps

2007-02-22T20:02:00.001-05:00

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This photo was shot by one of my buddies while I was resting while guarding our Forward Fire Base. The Forward Fire Base contained our HQ Company and all of our supporting Artillery (both the 105mm stationary and 155mm Self Propelled Artillery) and of course one Line Company. An Infantry Battalion was made up of 3 Line Companies and a Headquarters Company. The Rotation back to the Forward Fire Base (company in reserve) occurred every 8 days or so which meant that 16 days in the Boonies and then the next 8 days protecting the Forward Fire Base. Sometime in the Fall of 1967 the army added another line company to the 3rd Battalion-8th Infantry which was "D" company. Life for us grunts was somewhat more relaxed when we were in reserve. We still had to pull Nightly Ambush Patrols. and daytime patrols because the NVA knew where we were at all times because of our big guns going off all the time during fire missions. It's no wonder I have lost my hearing. You can't even come close to imaging the concussion was from a 155mm Self propelled Artillery Piece. I still remember the difference between the NVA assaulting one of Line Companies and just Harassing Fire from our huge guns. The artillery would fire continuously if one of our Line companies were in trouble and sporadically fire when they were just harassing the NVA.

Photo From Brother Ed Pippin

2007-02-20T21:35:00.001-05:00

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This photo was given to me by Brother Ed Pippin. The photo is of a shot down Huey Slick Helicopter. If I'm not mistaken it was a resupply slick and was shot down while resupplying my company "B" during the Battle for Dak To by a NVA B-40 rocket round. I was @ Dragon Mountain, our main division base camp in Pleiku waiting for my departure from that war. I think the term was DEROS. I remember hearing about this battle with the notorious NVA 11/11/1967, just 9 days before my departure

We lost 18 brave men in this battle from my company. I do not have the figures of WIA. Brother Ed Pippin received a serious wound in this battle. I don't have the figures but I'd say most of these boys had less than 3 months in country!

You can read all this battle @ the following Link!

http://www.ivydragoons.org/Files/DakTo/dakto_narrative.htm

Photo Of Kurt Nagl & Charlie Steinmetz

2007-02-18T21:37:00.002-05:00

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This photo was given to me by my good friend Kurt Nagl. Even though he is a YANKEE from Maryland, I still claim him as my Brother-In-Arms along with Charlie. Kurt was a an A-1 medic over there in Nam. Lionel Dudley nicknamed him the "Flat Footed German Yankee" but he is from Austria instead. I found the following quote from the Ivy Dragoons Website Guestbook by Kurt:

Nov.22, Thanksgiving Eve., Two Anniversaries for me. The first, Nov.22, 1955 I stepped off a ship in NY Harbor on my way to become an AMERICAN. That was 51 years ago. 40 years ago on Thanksgiving eve, before I was sent out to B Co. I was pulling perimeter guard on FBC. Since I had surgical skills, I was asked to carve all the TURKEYS in Sgt Bagleys Mess Tent for the Battalion. I spent all night carving & fellow immigrant an Irishman named Ryan, spent the night Baking. We were still in Tuy Hoa chasing Charlie & not NVA in the Highlands, which came later. Peace My Brothers & Let Us Give Thanks. Doc

Let me tell you about my friend Charlie. I still remember Charlie in Basic Training getting Giged about every day for not SHAVING. Charlie had the blackest, thickest beard and after he shaved he still didn't look like he had shaved. The rest of us BOYS 18-19 yrs old only had fuzz. I hope to see both of them this June at our next reunion down in Nashville. I saw Kurt about 36 years ago and Charlie it has been about 39-40 years since I saw him. I fought beside Charlie @ Plei Doch and Plei Ya Bo and all of the smaller skirmishes.

Clem Woods? In Tuy Hoa

2007-02-17T21:55:00.001-05:00

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I think the boy in this photo is Clem Woods from I believe Cleveland, Ohio! Yet another photo that I had to doctor up some.

Photo Of Downtown Tuy Hoa

2007-02-17T21:36:00.001-05:00

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Viet Nam was a very poor country. Very few automobiles, only the rich could afford one. Their only means of transportation were bicycles, rickshaws, mopeds and Lambert's (Cushman trucks) and an occasional ole bus. I had to touch up this photo which I am not very great at!!!!

Photo Of Us Moving A Montygnard Village

2007-02-15T21:48:00.001-05:00

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We would often move an entire Montygnard Village to a more secure site. Our engineers would build them a new village and we would move them. Then afterwards we would burn down their old village to deny the NVA shelter from the elements.

Photo Of Me Digging A Foxhole

2007-02-11T22:09:00.001-05:00

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This is a photo of me digging a foxhole for the night.

Photo of Rex Walker Sitting In The Center

2007-02-08T22:20:00.001-05:00

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Hey Vada, I dedicate this photo to you. I don't know if I gave you this rare photo of your late husband Rex or not. He is sitting in the center of the three boys. Billy Kid (from down your way)to his left and a boy named Parsons (from up my way in Lee County Va.) sitting to his right. I can't remember the boy's name standing in the right side of the photo. I have been beating my brains out and I can't think of his name. If I'm not mistaken this photo was made by me in the summer of '66 in the Yakima desert of the state of Washington. You know how I have expresses my feelings about your husband Rex in my website. I mean every word of it.

Photo Of The Coveted COMBAT INFANTRY BADGE

2007-02-07T22:15:00.001-05:00

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The C.I.B. is one of the most respected awards a soldier can receive and most honored, even more so than the Medal of Honor. It has been said that the CIB is the only award worn above the ribbon of the Medal of Honor on the Army uniform. Many holders of the Medal of Honor have not also been bestowed the CIB.

Photo Of Our !st Reunion

2007-02-02T21:18:00.005-05:00

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Photo was given to me by Kurt (Doc) Nagl

This photo was made @ out 1st reunion in the early 70s. The location was @ Tommy Rouths home in North Carolina.

Standing L to R: Routh, Poteet, White, Ervin, Teal, Beaver, Orr, Kidd, Callicutt

Kneeling L to R: Nagl, Dudley, ??, Prince, Rhodes

Sitting L to R: Pickett, Steen, Wylie, Talton. Walker

(The above photo was taken appx. 1972…5 yrs. After we got home from the war)

A Little History About The Band of Brothers

Routh: He is from N.C. He also received multiple Purple Hearts Medals.

Teal: He took a large piece of shrapnel to his head and got to come home. He fell from a scaffold while installing some glass in a building. He almost died from the fall down in Spartenburg, S.C. He finally succumbed to the dreaded disease of Cancer a few years ago.

Beaver: Benny is another Scott County Boy. He is now retired from both the Military and the Glass Plant.

Orr: Larry is from Wyoming. I took 2 boys out there in 1993 to hunt on Larry’s 10,200 acre Ranch. I had a most wonderful week with Larry just knocking around with him on his ranch.

Nagl: The only Flatfooted Yankee in the group. Dudley gave him this nickname during Basic Training in Jan. ’66. Kurt “DOC” Nagl was our Medic. He watched over us making sure that we took our daily and weekly Malaria Pills, our water purification pills. He patched our minor wounds and kept a close check on our feet inspecting them for JUNGLE ROT. Jim Lemmon was his most active patient.

Dudley: He is another boy from Princeton, N.C. I saw him last Summer in Nashville. He suffered a massive stroke earlier when the Docs tried to clear plaque build up in his neck arteries and a piece of plaque entered into Lionel’s Brain . He had to hobble on his right leg, limited motion with his right hand and arm and he had a lot of trouble with his speech. I am real thankful to J.L. and Chris for saving me from suffering with Paralysis from my stroke.

Steen & Wylie: They are black kids from N.C. I haven’t seen them since this photo opt. I loved them then and now. They were just like me, only their skin was a different color.

Talton: Without a doubt the very best friend that I had in Viet Nam. He is from Princeton, N.C. We were specialized in different weapons over there, some were specialized with the M16, others with the M60 Machine gun, the Stevens Pump Shotgun, The PRC25 Radio, and last but not the least the M-79 Grenade Launcher. George was one of my squad’s M79 men. He was a real expert on his weapon.

Walker: Rex was from N.C. He died approx. 10 years ago from a massive Heart Attack while working in his Beloved Apple Orchard. His wife Vada, emailed me several times. She asked me for photos of Rex. She was supposed to come to last summer’s reunion but she didn’t make it. Kurt told me that she developed cancer and that she was taking Chemo Treatments and was too sick to attend. Later I found out that she passed while we were at the Reunion.

Photo Of My Little Friends 41 Years ago in Vancouver, Washington

2007-02-02T16:56:00.001-05:00

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I was on Maneuvers in Vancouver, Washington and on Sunday morning they let a few of us attend a church. The people that attended the church that day sort of adopted one of us per family to have us share lunch with them. I feel bad that I do not remember the names of the kids nor of their parents. All that I remember is the circumstances behind this photo. Their mother gave me this photo of them.

Photo Of My Uniform Insignas

2007-01-28T17:05:00.001-05:00

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The 4th Infantry Division Patch, my original Montygnard Bracelet, my original Dog Tags, my CIB. My Expert Qualification Badge for the M16 Rifle, my RVN Service Medal, my Infantry Blue Rope, my Rank Insignias (E5), my war souvenir knife.

Photo Of ??, Routh, Talton and Parsons

2007-01-28T15:28:00.001-05:00

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I remember taking this photo of some of our boys drying out their clothing after we had to cross a body of water on a single rope stretched across above the water. I remember that it was in the balancing act. You had to stay above the rope while you let one leg dangle down and the other leg bent @ the knees with your foot across the top of the rope. You had pull yourself with your hands thus sliding across the rope. This photo was made near Vancouver, Washington sometime during our Basic Unit Combat Training.

Photo Of A Military Payment Certificate for 10 Cents

2007-01-27T15:29:00.001-05:00

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We didn't use the USD Money in Viet Nam but instead we used the Military Payment Certificate even for the small change. If my memory serves me correctly, the military would change the currency every so often and only the military personnel could exchange their old for the new currency. I suppose it was because of the Vietnamese Black Market.

Photo Of Stuck APCs

2007-01-27T13:04:00.001-05:00

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I remember them reassigning me for my last month in RVN. They placed me in The 4th Division Exploitation Platoon. We were air mobile and we had 6 Armored Personnel Carriers. Our primary job was to plant and extract our Long Range Recons Patrols (LRRPS) from our Main Division Base Camp and flying various missions. I remember one of our duties was to fly on the road patrol between our Home Base Camp (Pleiku) and Dak To. On these missions the Chopper Pilot would stop @ every bridge so we could check them for mines.
I remember this photo was took by me during one our LRRP extraction when we got all 6 of our APCs stuck in a Rice Patty. We call to call in for Vehicle Track Retriever (VTR) to come to our rescue.

Photo Of Me Routh and Wray

2007-01-27T10:34:00.001-05:00

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This photo was taken in front of the NCO Club in Fort Lewis, Washington in early 1966. Boy did those civilian clothes feel good! It was a week-end pass on the base after our Basic Training. You know this photo brings back old memories. I remember them having a talent show that day. I remember the band that won sung the song Louie-Louie which was put out by the Kingsmen in 1963.

I know you have heard the term "An Ear Worm", which means you cant get a melody out of your head. I have an Ear Worm that is still in my head since that day in 1966. "LOUIE LOUIE, OH BABY, ME GOTTA GO"--"LOUIE LOUIE, OH BABY, ME GOTTO GO"

Photo Of Our Old Battalion Sign In Fort Lewis, Washington

2007-01-26T13:42:00.001-05:00

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I took this photo of our old Battalion Sign in Fort Lewis, Washington in 1966 before we shipped out for the RVN. LTCOL Pat W. Crizer was our Battalion Commander from December 1965 - December 1966. He went to the RVN with us and was replaced by LTC Tom "Charger"Lynch in Dec. of 1966. "Charger was replaced by LTC Glen Belnap in early December of 1967.

I still remember LTC Crizer taking an interest in we boys from Scott County and Lee County, Virginia since he was from Wise County, Virginia. I remember him coming to our rifle qualifying and giving us a pep talk to not let him down.

LTC Belnap was killed-in-action along with his SGM Herbert Roberts. They died instantly in a Huey Helicopter crash along with the crew of the chopper on 12/20/67. I believe that if I can get my story straight the Chopper that they were in was Hovering above the trees and all of a sudden its tail Rotor got into the trees thus causing the chopper to crash.

Photo of Cpt.Tony Colburn (THE ROYAL PINEAPPLE)

2007-01-25T21:15:00.001-05:00

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This is a rare photo (sorry for it's quality) of our company commander Cpt. Tony Colburn (Nickname The Pinapple) picking & grinning for us. The date was ?? maybe May of 1966, place was Vancouver, Wa. while we were on maneuvers. I suppose that it was times like these that molded us into a fine tuned fighting machine. I know only a percentage of the total # of troops were as fortunate as we were. We trained together for 8 months before we all loaded up on the same ship for our trip to the RVN.

Getting Ready To Be Inspected Before We Went On Guard Duty

2007-01-25T20:48:00.001-05:00

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Do you Remember this old photo? Me & Dudley are the only names that I can remember! I do remember that this photo was made in front of our Barracks in Fort Lewis, Washington and the date was sometime early in 1966 as we were getting ready for inspection before our guard duty. I welcome all comments with the names of the others.

Front L to R: Me, Dudley, ?Parsons? & ?Calicutt?
Back L to R: ?Stein?, ????, ?Teal?, ?Bromell?

Photo Of A U.S. Army CH-54 Sky Crane Helicopter

2007-01-25T16:45:00.001-05:00

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The CH-54 is better known as the Sky Crane. It was very successful in Vietnam where it was credited with the recovery of hundreds of downed aircraft as well as having the ability to move artillery and supplies to fire bases that were unreachable by land. It had a 4800 hp turbine engine & could lift over 40,000 pounds. I remember it carrying a D-8 Caterpillar Dozier in this photo without the blade out to us on 1 occasion in order for us to build a Forward Fire Base. Then on its 2nd mission it carried the Blade to the Dozier.

Photo Of The 170th Assault Helicopter Company: "The Bikini's"

2007-01-25T10:37:00.002-05:00

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I will never forget those wonderful birds. They were our lifeline with the outside world. I remember them having a Bikini Clad girl painted on the nose of all their choppers. They resupplied us every 4 days with food, ammunition and on the 8th day they would bring us our SP packs.

I remember the SP packs contained our mail, toiletries, one pair of clean clothing , 1 hot meal. I still remember whenever it was possible a chaplain would come out and hold a church service with us.

I believe that after every 8 days in the Bush they would rotate one of our Line Company's (A,B and C company) to guard our Forward Fire Base. I believe the term was in Reserve. The Forward Fire Base contained our Headquarters Company and our supporting Artillery. I remember that we operated with 2 line companies @ a time in the Bush. We were also close to each other in case we had to assist each other. We only could operate a certain amount of distance between us and our 105 MM Artillery in the Forward Fire Base because of their limited range of fire support.

http://www.170th.org/Html/Bikinis.html

Photo Of A NVA Flag

2007-01-24T20:36:00.001-05:00

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I remember the VC placed their flag near our Division Base Camp (Camp Enari). I remember that I had less than 1 month left before I could go home. I was assigned to a detail to remove this flag. They sent me along with a squad of men and 1 APC (Armored Personnel Carrier) to remove this flag. I remember us taking every precaution in removing this flag because we figured it was Boobie Trapped. We tied a rope around the Bamboo Flag Pole and pulled it down with our APC. Bingo, the VC had it Boobie trapped with a small explosive. We were protected from the blast inside our APC.

Photo of me in the Tuy Hoa Providence

2007-01-24T19:10:00.001-05:00

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This photo was taken next to a beautiful waterfall in Tuy Hoa. You know the Rain forest is very beautiful. You may have heard the expression that you can't see the forest for the trees. In my case I couldn't see the beautiful Rain forest for the VC & NVA.

My Summary

2007-01-23T17:45:00.001-05:00

Summary

April 15, 1967

My first KIA (killed in action).
He was a Viet Cong guarding a rice cache down around Tuy Hoa. Me and my good friend David Culbertson were ordered to search and clear a bamboo hut in the middle of a large banana grove. We proceeded to the hut and all of a sudden out from behind the hut he came charging after me with a hand grenade. I will never forget that moment. He came charging towards me pulling on the string to detonate a hand grenade, when I gave him about a 10 round burst from my M16 rifle killing him instantly. We later confirmed that he was guarding a rice cache and that I had surprised him. We later found a 30 cal. U.S. Carbine Rifle. You must understand that I was only 19 years old at the time and I was a born again Christian. My parents started me in church when I was about 14 years old and I still am a member of the same church. Very few days have passed without me asking my lord for forgiveness for what I had to do. I firmly believe that only god has the right to take human life because only he can give life to us. I was told that the killing would get easy after the first one but it did not get any easier.

June 17, 1967
My second KIA,
We were out on patrol one day in early June. I was walking point when all of a sudden i walked upon a NVA soldier. I brought up my M16 and gave him a short burst killing him instantly.

July 23, 1967 (three trees - Plei Ya Bo)
My Third KIA.
"C" company was ambushed by a sizable NVA unit. We found out later that the entire notorious 66th NVA Regiment had ambushed us We, "B" company, 3rd battalion, 8th infantry, 4th infantry division were about a 1/4 mile away dug in for the night. We were ordered to assist "C" company with their battle with the NVA so we ran to their assistance. Bullets were flying everywhere along with RPG rounds and mortar rounds. A NVA ammo bearer showed himself from around a large tree and he didn't see me. I gave him a short burst from my M16 rifle. I must have had some tracer rounds in my M16 because when I hit him in the stomach the tracer rounds ignited his RPG rounds burning him to a crisp. It was an awful experience that I have to live each day of my life.
The night before this battle I remember saying a silent prayer to my Lord while in my foxhole to forgive me for killing my 2nd person. I also asked him to spare me from anymore killing. I told him that I would treat people kindly (not that I was a mean person) and try to lead a productive life if he would only spare me from all the killing.
We were ordered to search & clear the battle zone immediately after the battle. In other words, we were to get a body count. I will never forget that day because what happened that day was a miracle.
The NVA never gave themselves up. I was walking point Thur the jungle. All of a sudden, I heard someone crying with pain and then I found him (a NVA). He was bleeding from both ears with busted eardrums from the concussion of a 500 lb. bomb that one of our F4C phantoms had dropped on them. He surrendered to me.
Just a few feet more then I found a young ammo bearer about 13 years old badly wounded in the crotch area with maggots already eating away at his wound he surrendered to me also.
A few feet further I walked upon a NVA with his AK47 pointed right towards me from a foxhole. Instinctively I brought up my M16 with the safety off and all of a sudden he threw up his hands and said Chu Hoy (I give up) to me. He had a badly wounded buddy in the same foxhole with him. He could have mowed me in half with his AK47 assault rifle.
I knew that my God had answered my prayers of the night before & that he had taken over the situation. I never had to kill another person for the rest of my tour of duty. I also knew that he spared my life for some good reason. I am still to this day searching for what the reason is that he spared my life so many times..
I tell everyone that I have 9 lives to live and that I have already lived 8 of my 9 lives that god has granted me I lived 6 of my 9 lives while in Viet Nam. The 7th of my lives when I had a heart attack in 2000 and the 8th when I had a bad stroke in 2001.
I ask my lord every day for forgiveness for my killing. I know that was war but that doesn't ease my feelings any. I have a conscience, and I have to re-live these scenes over and over and again - again in my mind. I also ask him for forgiveness from the families of the ones that I killed, just like I forgive the NVA & the Viet Cong for killing us. I firmly believe that only my God has the power to give us life and only God has the right to take our lives. It is a shame that our governments can't reconcile their differences and get along even thought my bible tells me that there will be wars and rumors of wars.

The following scriptures give me comfort in my taking of Human Life. I just substitute my name in the place of Pilate. I substitute Ho Chi Minh name in the HE in verse 11. Then I substitute the people that I had to kill in the place of Jesus.

John 19
10Then saith Pilate unto him, Speakest thou not unto me? Knowest thou not that I have power to crucify thee, and have power to release thee?
11Jesus answered, Thou couldest have no power at all against me, except it were given thee from above: therefore he that delivered me unto thee hath the greater sin.

After Action Report about the Plei Ya Bo Battle
http://www.ivydragoons.org/Files/Logs/AAR%2023%20July%2067.PDF
Kenneth H. Ervin

Photo of Me & Tommy Routh During Christmas in Tuy Hoa RVN 1966

2007-01-23T08:50:00.001-05:00

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I still remember our Christmas in Tuy Hoa, RVN. They brought us in from the Jungle Bush so we could enjoy our Christmas. I still remember how good the hot showers felt, the hot meals and the clean clothes. Oh, and the COT that we could sleep on and the wonderful FULL nights sleep without having to pull Ambush Patrol or Listening Post Duty!!!!! You know, we shared all of our goodies with all of our fellow soldiers. You may have heard the Term "THE BAND OF BROTHERS". Well it is true. We were all that we had. You had to learn to trust each other especially during your 2 hours shift of sleep during the nights. The can near my right foot was a gift from Annette (Ervin) Quillen. I remember her sending me all that wonderful homemade candy while I was over there.

Photo Of Me

2007-01-22T09:19:00.001-05:00

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If my memory hasn't failed me this photo was made in the Central Highlands. I remember us finding this old NVA Camp. For some reason or another our higher ups decided that we should spend the night in this present location. We immediately started to dig in for the night. I remember playing cards with my fellow men. Some of our men started cutting an LZ for the supply by Choppers. Then all of a sudden it all happened. Two of our own Hunter/Killer gunships saw us on the ground and immediately assumed that we were the enemy (NVA). They started working us over, I mean their Rockets and Mini Gatling Guns etc. I still remember the bullets kicking up the dirt in our faces. We were all in shock that our people had declared WAR on us. After the 2nd pass, I had my M60 Machine Gun ready for them but luckily there wasn't a 3rd pass. They must have received one of our radio calls that were attacking FRIENDLIES. The best that I remember we had about 6-8 casualties that day by our own forces

Photo of One of Our Downed Choppers

2007-01-22T08:57:00.001-05:00

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I remember so vividly the day that this Chopper went down. They were resupplying us and they had the BIRD overloaded for the return flight. I remember the pilot made about 3 attempts to lift off. I remember that each time he tried to lift off you could hear him loosing his engine RPM'S. Finally on the 3rd or 4th attempt to lift off he was too far over the trees to back down to the LZ (Landing Zone) thus crashing. I remember him crashing right in the middle of a huge BEES NEST. I remember getting stung while we rescued them. The best that I can remember there weren't any casualties in this incident.

Photo of We were in a single file (as usual) and crossing a small creek

2007-01-22T08:45:00.000-05:00

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We had to hump (Infantry Term) all of my Earthly belongings on my back, which amounted to about 75-100 lbs.

Our Earthly belongings consisted of the following in our rucksack: one case of C rations (12 meals), one case (1,000 rounds) of .223 caliber ammunition, a hundred rounds of ammo for the squad’s M-60 machine gun, four pounds of C-4 plastic explosive, one claymore mine, poncho, poncho liner, several pairs of socks, Tabasco sauce (to enhance the flavor of the C-rations), These, and other sundry items, were in my rucksack, one PRC-25 radio battery, one machete, two smoke grenades, my letter writing materials, about 3-4 LRP Rations, my bandages, one gallon Lister bag of water, three canteens of water making the total weight in excess of 80 lbs.

We had to protect our feet from the Jungle Rot. I still to this day have scar-tissue from the Jungle Rot on my hands/wrists. Jungle rot sets in from broken places in your skin and all that awful rain. It would rain for 24 hrs. day, for about 2 months (Monsoon). I went through 2 monsoons while over there, because they moved us from Tuy Hoa to Pleiku.

We got re-supplied every 4 days except during the monsoon season. I will never forget the time that we went 28 days without getting re-supplied. My cloths actually rotted off of me. On the 4th day they would send us food and ammo then on the 8th day they would send us food, ammo, toiletries and one set of clothing. We took our baths whenever we came upon a stream. So now hopefully you understand why the photo quality is so poor of my photos.

Photo of ???????????

2007-01-18T16:25:00.000-05:00

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My Mind has drawn a blank as to his name. All that I remember is that he is from North Carolina and he was all the time singing his favorite singers songs. I believe if my memory is correct his favorite singer for JIM REEVES. I would appreciate your comments with this boys name and oh yes I remember that RICHARD PETTY was his hero.

Photo One of The Few Good Times in 'Nam

2007-01-18T16:07:00.000-05:00

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The time was around Christmas 0f 1966. The place was in Tuy Hoa. I remember they brought us in from the jungle for Christmas. I remember going swimming in the South China Sea. I believe this Photo is of Jernigan, Callicutt & Wray. All three boys are from North Carolina.

Photo of a Chinese SKS Rifle

2007-01-17T19:08:00.000-05:00

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I purchased this Chinese SKS rifle several years ago. It is perfectly legal because it is a SEMI-AUTOMATIC version. I tagged several weapons that I personally captured but I never did get to bring one home with me. You know how that goes, THE GREAT BASE CAMP WAR HEROS took them I suppose. I just wanted one to keep for myself. It is a fine hunting rifle. It is listed as one of the top 10 best war rifles of all time along with it the Russian AK-47.

Photo of a NVA Knife

2007-01-17T19:03:00.000-05:00

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This is a photo of a NVA knife that I brought home with me from the war. The NVA had this knife on him along with a German Luger hand gun. I also have his soft hat.

Photo of a Vietnamese Pot Belly Pig

2007-01-17T18:56:00.000-05:00

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This is a rare photo of a Vietnamese Pot Belly Pig. I thought that they were the funniest thing. Little did I know then that they would become popular in this country as PETS.

Photo of Bobby Ray Tabrons name on the Viet Nam Wall

2007-01-17T14:05:00.000-05:00

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This is a photo of Bobby Ray Tabrons name on the Viet Nam Wall. I wasn't as close to Bobby as I was to Stanley W Dix because he was a replacement to my unit. He didn't go over with us to Viet Nam but joined sometime later as a replacement to us. All that I can remember is that he adjusted to us very quickly. He was a Black Kid but the color of his skin didn't matter to us because we were all brothers. I still remember the day he was killed by the NVA. I remember I was one of four people that had to carry him up this steep mountain side to the LZ for his chopper medivac. I remember that we could only carry him just a few feet before we had to stop and rest a spell. As I think back on that day the words to the song come back to me. HE AIN'T HEAVY, HE'S MY BROTHER.

Photo Scene Just Hours Before The Battle for Plei Ya Bo

2007-01-17T13:51:00.000-05:00

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I took this photo just a few hours before our Battle for Plei Ya Bo (Three Trees). All I can remember is that we were dug-in for the night and we were HANGING OUT I think this is today's terminology. I think a couple of the boys names were Tommy Routh and George Talton.

Photo of us Parlaying (interrogating) the Montygnard People

2007-01-17T12:30:00.000-05:00

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This photo is of us Parlaying (interrogating) the Montygnard people. Let me see if I can remember the Montygnard custom-- they would place a huge CROCK OF RICE WINE in the center. The rice wine was made up of slices of green bananas along with rice with the husk on it mixed with water. I remember them having the croak covered with a banana leaf. They would then lay a flat piece on bamboo wood across the top. They would cut a small splinter in the center of the flat piece on bamboo. They would stir the mixture and then top off the CROCK off with water. They would then take a long piece of bamboo which served as a straw. It was their custom that we and they take turns of drinking from the CROCK. It was the custom that you drink until the wine cleared the splinter on the flat piece of bamboo lying across the top of the CROCK. The best that I remember that was anywhere between 1 pint & 1 quart of rice wine that you had to drink per your turn. I remember the comments from everyone participating in the ritual was Boy that was a cheap drunk.

Photo of Our Close Allies, The Montagnard People (Dega People)

2007-01-15T21:00:00.000-05:00

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This photo was given to me by my good friend Doc Kurt Nagl. They were great Allies to us. They were Polynesian and not Asian.. They inhabited the Central Highlands of South Vietnam many centuries ago. They migrated from India. I have an original Montagnard friendship Bracelet that a little Montagnard girl gave me for sharing some of my C-rations with her. I will cherish her Bracelet forever. I have a modern bracelet that I wear to commemorate my friendship with these people. They were greatly persecuted by both the NVA and the VC because they supported us. You know what, we pulled out of Viet Nam and left them to defend themselves. I have read all kinds of harrow stories about them after we pulled out. Only now are we starting to bring them home to us in N.C. I am supplying a link for your convenience.
http://www.dhhs.state.nc.us/montagnard.htm.

My Emails with Paul Beals

2007-01-15T19:31:00.000-05:00

BY: Kenneth H. Ervin
I E-mailed Paul Beals concerning this Ad that he had placed in the Ivy Dragoons newsletter (which I am a member of). I was in the battle of Plei Doch 5/26/1967 (The day that his cousin Richark Wilkins was killed)

Following is an excerpt of the Email that I sent to Paul....

Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Hello Paul Beals,
I will start off with I didn't personally know your cousin Richard Wilkins. He was in “C” company and I was in “B” company. I will never forget that awful day May 26, 1967. We and “C” company were climbing up this huge Mountain along the Cambodian Border. I do not know the location. The following After Action Reports states that the location was in DARLAC Providence. “C” company was traveling in a single file formation up ahead of us when they came upon a flat place in the mountain. Captain Powers decided to stop his column to have his men to take a break. He didn't know it at the time but he stopped his column right in the middle of an AMBUSH zone that the NVA had planned. He must have sit down and had pulled out his map to check his company’s location and I sniper shot him between the eyes killing him instantly thus triggering the ambush.
Naturally we rushed to their assistance. Bullets and RPG and Mortar rounds were exploding all around us. They had a well planned ambush laid out for us. After around 30-60 minutes I guess, they broke off and ran for the Cambodian border.
Now here is the story about your Cousin Richard. I have been trying from some time to identify the “boy with the shotgun that day that was killed”. I e-mailed everyone that I could from “C” company during that time period in an attempt to identifying that BOY. I am pretty sure (99% sure) that his band of brothers have identified him correctly as Richard Wilkins.
Paul, I will never forget about how Richard was killed that day. I will never forget the pile of 12 Gauge Shotgun Shell casings lying on the ground beside him that day. There was a huge pile of NVA lying about 20 yards to his front. He must have killed around 15-20 NVA with the buckshot from his pump shotgun. I do remember him killing a high-ranking NVA officer and his RTO because I remember my Company Commander (Cpt. Toby Colburn – the Pineapple) asking me to cut off his NVA uniform insignias and he sent them back to our S2 for identifying his rank and NVA unit. I have e-mailed our then Battalion Commander Lt. Col Tom Lynch now Retired Major General Tom Lynch if he remembers this incident and what the NVA Officers rank and outfit was but for some reason he refuses to answer my question. I also sent him a snail mail note asking the same question.
Paul, I feel like your cousin Richard, deserved the Silver Star Posthumously for that day May 26, 1967. That’s my opinion on that matter. Maybe the Army did award him the Silver Star I do not know. You can tell the brothers of Richard that they should be really proud of their older brother Richard because he was my HERO on that day in May almost 39 years ago. You can also tell them that my memory isn't what it used to be but I still remember the Battle of Plei Doc very vividly and their brother Richard lying on the ground dead that day.
Wilkins, Richard Edward
SP4
C/3/8
5/26/1967
Mountlake Terr
WA
20E/125
Ken Ervin

.....Paul and I have been e-mailing each other several times. In one of my emails I asked Paul what that he does in Alaska and about his unusual E-mail address (paul.beals@tananachiefs.org). He replied back to me...

Well, hang on Ken, I think you're in for a few surprises... I am a professional counselor, work for Tanana Chiefs Conference (tan-ah-na, does not rhyme with banana),
TCC is a consortium of 43 alaska Native tribes and villages, most of which are Athabaskan Indians but some are Inupiat Eskimo. I travel to one of my five villages each week and am there usually for three days at a time dealing with whatever issues/problems the folks have. Two of my usual villages are Eskimo, Anaktuvuk Pass - about 250 miles north of here and Evansville/Bettles about 150 miles north. I've also been called out to other villages when ever there has been a violent death or suicide - 15 for me in the last 5&1/2years. I also travelled to a few villages that are outside our region when I was doing my thesis on Alaska Native Vietnam Vets and was adopted by a Sitka Chief/Vietnam Vet.

The guys in Anaktuvuk Pass don't have many resources available to them and unemployment is around 60% in that village of 300 people- a village which was settled in 1950, by the way. Anyway, I've been teaching the guys up there how to turn pens and such out of caribou horn and on a mini lathe! (Before I went back to grad school, I had an 18,000 sqft shop and 28 employees in Laconner ,Washington where I built large pleasure boats, primarily off shore cruising sailboats. . . done some wood work, myself... but got involved in humanitarian aid work- primarily in Russia in the late 80s and decided that I'd been building dreams for rich folks and felt called to build dreams of a higher
order... I'll send you a cc of the story of the Midnight Train From Moscow...will have to wait until I get home tonight to send it - don't have a cc here at work.) Anyway they're just getting started, I've located a market for their wares and hope to help build a little cottage industry up there for them.
Just last evening I got a call from Roger Tenbrink, former squad leader and he gave me the names, Lynn Wanzak, Kodiak Island, Alaska who was Richard's (aka "Radar") best friend and another guy, Peter Schwartzoff, who lives in Anchorage. Amazing what networking can do... I medcapped in a couple of montagnard villes up around Khe Sanh. Have
always felt they were sorely wronged when we pulled out of the country - set them up for worse persecution than ever.
Ken, you mentioned N.C. - for the last two years my wife and I have gone down there to the John C. Campbell Folk Art School (in Brasstown - SW corner of the state) for our vacation and fell in love with the area.We'r'e headed that way in March, I think... This whole thing sure has gotten interesting. . . and Richard's brother
Dan is excited about getting info, too.
Good chatting with you.

Paul

Paul on another E-mail....I figured that this E-mail has set some kind of record because of the place that Paul e-mailed me from......

Hi Ken,
I'm in Anaktuvuk Pass, about a hundred miles above the Arctic Circle - flew in this a.m. This time of year the sun does not rise here, although the high stratus clouds are at the moment a spectacular neon orange against a turquoise sky. The mountains that surround this village are all in shadow. The sun won't come back for several months - and of course, will shine 24 hours per day during the short summer.
I fly into all of the villages I serve - when the weather permits! sometimes landing at -40 and in a whiteout... It is strange to land like that and see the numerous snowmachines that come roaring up to the airplane to see who and what gets off... and just as quickly disappear when all has been offloaded.
This is a good place to be in the business I'm in... no one in their right mind would live here..
Yes, i've rec'd your posts. Have been busy as there have been two deaths in the last week in this village of just under 300 people... funeral for an elder this afternoon - in half an hour... I'd best get moving.
Will write more in the next couple of days... I haven't forgotten that I said I'd email a cc of the train story to you...
BTW - Fairbanks is on the road system - 1500 miles from Seattle and 350 from Anchorage. Ester is an old gold mining village 8 miles outside Fairbanks.
Glad Richard's brother contacted you.
Thanks again.
Paul

Photo of Richard Wilkins

2007-01-15T17:49:00.000-05:00

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I saw this photo sometime ago in our Ivy Dragoons Newsletter. It just happened that I did a lot of research for this persons name. You know certain images are burned in our brains. I have this image of a young man lying face down dead with a huge pile of 12 Gauge Shotgun, 00 Buck Shot casings. I also saw a huge pile of North Vietnamese Regular Army troops lying dead about 10-20 meters of this young mans front. This young kids name was Richard Wilkins. I found out from some of his platoon members his name. He was is in my sister company "C". I was in "B" Company. The Battle was Plei Doch, and the date was May 26, 1967. You can read all about this famous Battle in my posts.
To make a long story short I answered Paul's add by emailing him. I am going to post our E-mails to each other. Paul sent his Midnight Train Ride to Moscow in one of his e-mails. I have already posted it. The Army doesn't really tell the stories like a fellow GRUNT can tell them. Oh yes, Dan Wilkins brother to Richard, emailed me also and told me just how much that my e-mails meant to him. I call it closure some 39 1/2 years later.

Photo of Leroy Shaffer, Bobby Woods, Tommy Routh and Stanley W. Dix

2007-01-15T16:52:00.000-05:00

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This is my only Photo of Stanley W. Dix. He was killed in The Battle for Plei Ya Bo (Three Trees). You can read about the details of how Stanley was killed that day July 23, 1967. I will tell you a story about Stanley W. Dix.

Something like about 1 year ago I received an email from a Stanley W. Dix. I thought someone was playing a dirty trick on me because I knew beyond a reason of doubt that Stanley was dead. I was afraid to open the email. Curiosity finally won out with me and boy did I receive a surprise.

He told me that his grandmother (Stans Mother) wanted him named after his Uncle Stanley W. Dix. He went on to tell me that his grandmother willed all of Stanleys personal belongings to him. He told me that a chest that he received from his Grandmother contained A SILVER STAR POSTHUMOUSLY and a small piece of a $1 Bill USD.

He told me that he found my site when he performed a search on Stanley W. Dix.
He asked me how his uncle won the SILVER STAR and if I held one of the pieces of the $1 Bill. His note told me that he believes the $1 bill was torn into and distributed to about 3 other GIs, sort of like BLOOD BROTHERS.

I scanned a page from Charlie Floods Book "THE WAR OF THE INNOCENTS" that told about how Stanley was killed that day and how that he was granted the SILVER STAR. I went on to tell him that I wasn't a holder of a section of the $1 but I would email some of my Comrades to ask them.

Photo of a Dustoff Chopper

2007-01-15T16:40:00.000-05:00

Click On The Image To Enlarge

This is a photo that I took after our Battle for Plei Ya Bo (Three Trees). I took the photo of one of our Dustoff Choppers (medivac) as it was lifting up with some of our fallen Comrades.

The Midnight Train From Moscow By: Paul Beals

2007-01-14T21:06:00.000-05:00

THE MIDNIGHT TRAIN FROM MOSCOW
BY: Paul Beals
To: Ken Ervin
It is my privilege to share this story with you and I hope that in the telling I may honor the place in you where your spirit dwells.
As is my custom, I would like to dedicate this telling of the story to the warriors who are gone but not forgotten, and to the men and women who have returned in body but not in spirit; and to the mothers who still wait for sons who will not return: may they know the peace that I found - in the eyes of my enemy.
In 1986 documentary film producer Stanley Odle was in the Soviet Union filming a documentary for a group of North American businesswomen who were there on tour. He approached the Central Studio of Documentary Films in Moscow with an idea for a television series. He wanted to do a twelve part series, made for television, filming in both countries with a single crew made up of half Russians and half Americans, with each position paired. Six episodes were to be filmed in each country, setting aside party lines and politics, and dealing with issues of the people of our two nations. The idea was to communicate with each other and to increase the opportunities for peace through understanding. The series was to be filmed, edited, and aired in both countries, uncensored by either government. The Soviets liked the idea and the first pair of episodes was filmed in Armenia and Washington State.
In late 1988, after seeing the premier and knowing the difficulty Stan had in finding corporate sponsorship, I volunteered to try to find Rotary support for the project. The goal of the series was the same as that of Rotary International - ‘Peace Through Understanding’. Initial Rotarian reaction to the project was good and I found myself headed for Russia in January of 1989 to assist with the production of the second Soviet episode.
We were going to Leningrad, site of the nine hundred-day siege during the Great Patriotic War, to film a segment on the effect of war on Soviet thinking. We were to spend two days in Moscow meeting our counterparts and preparing for the three-week shoot in Leningrad.
At midnight of our first night there we walked to Red Square to stand in front of Lenin’s tomb and watch the changing of the guard. A bell chimed the hour from high up in the star topped tower of the Kremlin as three young guards marched in slow, high goose-steps to relieve their comrades at the tomb. On our left, through the clouds of our own breath and the light snow we could see Saint Basil's Cathedral looming in silence above us. Behind us we could almost feel the presence of the infamous KGB head- quarters. I recall a chill shiver that shook my spine and the hair standing on the back of my neck: being there was like touching the enemy flag.
The next night we boarded the train for Leningrad. Called the midnight train because of the time of its departure, it was to deliver us to Leningrad early the next morning. A passageway runs down the right side of the compartmentalized sleeper cars. At the aft end of the passageway there is an oil-fired boiler, or samovar, that supplies heat for the compartments and hot water for tea. In each compartment there are four bunks and a small table where tea is served shortly after leaving the station. Each traveler is given bedding and a cup of tea, and a small fee is extracted for these services. About an hour after the train departs the lights are turned out and most of the travelers bed down for the night.
Still eleven hours out of sync and very excited to be there, I did not sleep well at all and at 4:30 or 5:00 o’clock in the morning I was standing in the passageway sipping my tea and looking out the window as we rolled through the Russian winter night.
Uneven tracks and stiff suspension caused the car to buck, lurch, and sway with dramatic sound effects, and the moonlight flashed like an old black and white film leaving my memory with distinct snapshots of snow covered fields, birch tree forests, and old villages where small houses were connected only by foot trails in the snow. I felt like I was somehow involved in scenes from Doctor Zhivago.
I was standing there, not-thinking, just being a part of all that was happening, absorbed into the movement and the moment, when a compartment door opened near me and a man in a Soviet Colonel’s uniform stepped out into the passageway.
He motioned toward my cup of tea and spoke in Russian. With a smile and a shrug I said, "I’m sorry, I speak only English." He hesitated a moment and again motioning toward my tea, closed his door behind him and came forward. I went to the samovar, washed out a cup, and with the few leaves that were left from my long night of self-indulgence, prepared a cup that was not much more than hot water. I handed it to him and we shared the view and sipped our tea. I didn’t know a word of Russian and so we communicated by showing each other our papers, and with gestures and smiles.
After a half-hour or so, he invited me into his compartment and he took a small book from his briefcase. He showed it to me and pointed to the cover, indicating that it was he, Boris, who had written it. Fanning the pages I recognized it as some form of high mathematics and I shook my head, shrugged my shoulders, and signaled that it was all over my head. Then from the third page of the book he read the dedication, and I recognized the last word as Afghanistan. From his wallet he showed me a picture of a young Soviet soldier and Boris made me understand that this young man, whose picture he had showed me, his son, was killed in Afghanistan.
I went and awoke our interpreter, and said, "Victor, come quickly, I think something important has happened here."
Victor and Boris talked for a while and Victor said, "Yes, this is important. This man is a Colonel, in charge of a military think tank in Moscow. He is the author of this book and he delayed publication of it for two years, waiting until he got official permission to dedicate it to his only son who was killed in Afghanistan." The book is about mathematic models of communications, of all things. This was the first time a military book was dedicated to someone who had nothing to do with the research, and the first to be dedicated to a soldier killed in Afghanistan.
Through Victor I explained that I am a Vietnam Veteran and that I thought I saw similarities between our involvement in Vietnam and Soviet involvement in Afghanistan, and that it was important to me to communicate with those affected by that conflict.
We further explained that we were going to Leningrad to make this film to improve the chances for peace through understanding.
Boris said that he was going to be in Leningrad for three days to teach a two day seminar on his book and then, on the third day, to go to rededicate the grave of his son. His invitation for me to join him at the grave of his son turned quickly into an invitation to film at the cemetery.
But, he said, there were problems, and he would have to call us the next day after talking with the boy’s mother. Anna and Boris are divorced. She lives in Leningrad and would be accompanying him: He said that he must have her permission.
Over the next two days there were several telephone calls between Boris and our Russian director. Many questions and problems were worked out before we heard that we would, on the morning of the third day, accompany this couple to the grave of their son.
We awoke early that day and piled all our equipment onto the small bus that the Studio had provided for us, and then we met Boris at his hotel. On the way to Anna’s home I told Stan that, though I didn’t understand it yet, I felt a very strong and mysterious need to communicate with this woman we were about to meet: a woman about whom I really knew nothing. He grinned and said, "Welcome to Russia, Paul."
When we arrived at Anna’s building, Boris went in and soon returned, followed by Anna. She was wearing a black fur coat. Her scarf formed a lovely frame around her beautiful but sad, almost emotionless, face. When she got on the bus she didn’t make eye contact with anyone, but sat quickly in the first seat. She sat quietly holding a bouquet of red chrysanthemums, very much alone on this pilgrimage to the grave of her son.
The paved roads, with their bomb crater-like potholes, eventually gave way to even rougher dirt as we approached the cemetery. There were no houses in sight, only a tired old barn standing on three of its legs, the fourth one buckled, bending the roof to lean into the merciless wind. It was a Russian January kind of cold: well below freezing, with a constant wind blowing off the Gulf of Finland. The only sounds were the wind as it breathed and sighed through the pines that grew in the old grave yard, and the ravens who lived there and obviously did not appreciate our intrusion. Cameras were set up, equipment checked, and Stan and Alexander, the Russian producer, began to quietly, gently interview Boris and Anna there at the side of the cemetery.
Boris is a small but powerfully built man. His words and gestures became stronger as he talked and we were surprised that his answers were so frank. He told us about his son, Igor, and how proud he was of him. When asked what he might tell his son, knowing what he does now, if he had it all to do over, Boris said that even though they did not have a Canada to run to, as he had heard many of our young men did during Vietnam, he would tell his son not to serve. He would tell him to resist - not to go. I asked that the cameras stop for a moment and with Victor’s help cautioned Boris about saying anything on film that he might regret. He went on to say that he felt that the four or five men responsible for Soviet involvement in Afghanistan should be ferreted out and, he said, "criminally prosecuted". He damned Soviet involvement in Afghanistan, he damned war in general, and he damned the loss of his son in that "immoral war". Again, I stopped the camera and cautioned him, explaining that we must reserve the right to use anything on film, that the documentary would be shown in both of our countries, and that I was afraid that he might jeopardize his career or standard of living.
He put his arm around smiling, and, me said, "I promise not to say anything I do not believe."
He also told us about the headlines that had appeared in the newspaper Pravda. "We did not send you to Afghanistan", they’d said. He told us that early in the war the ‘official’ statements said that the Army was planting trees and building orphanages.
During most of this interview time Anna stood quietly, shyly at Boris’ side. We asked them if they would like to go to the grave of their son without us, so that they could have some privacy.
Each grave is surrounded by a wrought iron fence, and inside there is usually a small table and just enough room for one or two people to sit. As Anna approached the grave she lowered the chain gate, and, from the satchel she carried, she took a soft cloth and wiped away the snow and dirt from the head stone. She placed the flowers she had carried on the grave and kissed the face of her son, etched into the tall granite slab. Then she set out a table cloth, some bread and meat, and a bottle of cognac. She poured a small glass of it and set it, and a piece of the bread, at the base of the headstone. Boris and Anna sat and talked quietly, occasionally sipping their cognac.
At their invitation we joined them there inside the fence, and I sat at Anna’s side for what seemed to be hours - or maybe it was a lifetime.
They invited all of us to join them and they shared their food and drink, and their grief. Boris told us about the inscription that appears at the base of the head stone. "I am buried here with you my son," it says, and it is signed, "Mama". He told us of how Anna had gone to church just two days before her son’s death. She had written a prayer asking God to protect her son from the danger she knew he was in. And he told us of how, on the morning of Igor’s death, Anna had awakened from a terrible dream in which she saw her own blood on the floor of her home, and how she had known at that instant that her son was dead - though she was not officially notified for some three weeks. Boris told us that it was at that instant of understanding that she too, had died. Anna had stopped going to church, had severed her relationship with her God, and, he said, she had "just ceased to live".
I told Anna that I saw in her tears the tears that my own mother might have shed at my grave, and that I could not be there at the grave of her son without realizing that a part of me - a part of all of us - was buried there, too.
Anna talked about her guilt and her grief. Her guilt, she said, at having raised a son to be so patriotic that he requested in eight letters to be sent to his death. Even though Igor had less than a year left to serve in his military obligation, he had requested, in eight letters, to be sent to Afghanistan. And Anna talked about her grief. Igor was her only child and she said that it is through our children that we are connected to the future. She had no children now, and so, no connection to the future. In that sense, she said, she was dead.
I told Anna that I thought I understood something of her guilt. In Vietnam the tin roofed hut that I was supposed to be sleeping in one night took a direct hit from a Russian made rocket, killing five of my comrades, and in the fire that had ensued the only Bible I’d ever owned was destroyed. That fiery death and destruction was, for me, symbolic of the entire Vietnam experience - for me and for my country.
I’ve found a definition for religion that I’m comfortable with: it is that Religion is that system of beliefs by which a man defines his relationship to the universe. In Vietnam everything we had believed in was turned upside-down - my entire belief system was destroyed.
I had volunteered, like many of us, early in the war. We went believing that it was our duty. We had grown up the sons of those who had liberated Europe - defeating Hitler’s evil and conquering the Japanese aggressors - and we believed that our country would never do anything that was not Right. We went off to do our duty for God and Country - and we came home to a country at war with itself over what we had done. We came home to a president who was impeachable for his crimes.
And I told Anna that I thought I knew something of her grief, as well. Just three years after my return from Vietnam I was in my second year of pre-med when my only child was born with a rare genetic disorder. With twenty-one months in Vietnam I was afraid that his condition had been caused by my exposure to the defoliants that were used there. My own grief that accompanied his birth was no different that what one suffers with the death of a child. That grief and other unresolved psychological issues of Vietnam made it impossible for me to continue my studies and we never had another child.
I came to understand that much of the grief that I suffered near Leningrad on that cold January day was grief for the boy in me who died in Vietnam. I hadn’t dealt with much of my own guilt or grief until I found myself at the grave of a boy who might have been my mortal enemy.
Through my own tears, I told Anna that I had been a Navy hospital corpsman with the Seabees and Marines in Vietnam and that during my almost two years there I’d held a lot of boys as they died, and that I knew, beyond believing, that the spirit of her son was at peace. And, I told her; I could not imagine a loving son who would not want his mother’s spirit to be at peace here on earth as well. I told Anna that because of what was happening there that day she would speak to thousands of people - in fact, an estimated hundred and twenty five million people saw that episode of the documentary, across the Soviet Union and in Canada and the US - and I told her that through me she would speak to many more. I told her that I would tell her story to anyone who would listen. And that was the first time we saw her smile.
Later, on the way back to Leningrad, Anna and I sat together on the bus and, with Victor’s help, we talked. She changed somehow and became much more alive, asking questions and occasionally laughing shyly. She insisted that we all join her in her flat for dinner.
Anna has remarried. She and her husband are both electrical engineers, and we were surprised to find that they lived in a two room flat, sharing bath and cooking facilities with three other families. We all crowded into her flat and all kinds of home-prepared food appeared from all over the building to add to our feast. Toasts with cognac or vodka were made, and answered, and we ate. Sometimes the conversation was loud, animated, and filled with laughter: other times it grew very quiet and there were many tears.
Eventually a guitar appeared and Boris sang several songs for us, songs that he had written. One was about how Igor had made his one man assault on a Mujahadeen sniper holed up in a cave high above Igor’s patrol, and how Igor had been shot, "Like the slap of a stick, four times in the chest", with a captured Russian made rifle. Boris’ song went on about how this Russian family held no animosity toward the 16 year old Mujahadeen boy who had only done what he believed was right, this boy who had paid for Igor’s death with his own, but rather, how sad it was that the only thing left was two mothers grieving on opposite sides of the world.
And we toasted, "to tea and providence", for it was tea and providence, Boris said, that had brought us together on that Midnight Train From Moscow. And we toasted tea and providence a lot that night.
In a quiet corner of Anna’s apartment hangs a picture of Igor; his black necktie draped over one corner of the frame. A calendar with the date of his death hangs nearby, and below, in a small box next to the white chrysanthemums, a button from the tunic of the boy who had killed her son, taken from his body and brought home by Igor’s comrades.
So, we experienced the grief of a Russian mother and, I think, the grief of mothers everywhere who have lost sons to war . . . I went back to see Anna before we left Leningrad, almost three weeks later, and I took some little bars of fancy soap, some small bottles of perfume, and a cloizenet blue heron pin that a fisherman had given me when I fixed his boat one time. I told her that they were gifts given in the spirit of a son returning from some far-off land. She clasped the pin to her breast and said, "Ah, this is perfect." She said, "This is the bird in Russian folk lore that brings us good luck and children." And she asked if she could adopt me.
We filmed for almost three weeks in Leningrad, aboard a Soviet Navy ship, at an army tank driver's school, and at a combat infantry school where they ran war games for the film. Almost daily we’d get a report from the Soviet director about how Boris had called from Moscow, and said this or asked that, and, with every report, "and tell Paul that he must come to see me before he leaves Russia." When our filming was complete we returned to Moscow and went to Boris’ home for dinner - with the entire film crew.
I expected to see a much higher standard of living. He was, after all, a colonel and in charge of an Army think tank. . . and it was higher - thirteen flights higher. We all remember it well because we had to hike up the thirteen flights, carrying our camera gear - because the elevator was broken. "Its normal," he said. His flat is much larger than Anna’s. He lives with his wife and two daughters in a comfortable flat with private kitchen and bath.
We ate a fantastic meal at his table. I know now, after several trips to Russia, that his wife had spent many hours in lines collecting all the things they thought we might enjoy - things they couldn’t afford. Each time we thought we’d finished, another course appeared from the tiny kitchen, and each time our glass was empty, it seemed, it was time for another toast: To tea, to providence, and to peace through understanding.
Boris brought out his guitar and sang for us once more. He read from a sheet of paper on which he had written his song, and next to the words was a picture of me that he had painted from memory. The song was about how we met on the Midnight Train From Moscow and how our two countries might take a lesson from us, who, though neither spoke the other’s language, sat down over a cup of tea and became friends.
Boris asked me once, what it was like for me to be in Russia. I told him that he had to understand that when I was a small child at school we practiced, at the sound of a particular bell, hiding under our desks - practicing for the day that the Russians would drop the atomic bomb on us. When I was nine or ten we watched as the leader of his country pounded his boot on the table of the greatest peace keeping organization the world had ever assembled and shouted that some day they would bury us.
Boris Felin represents the death of the Godless Communist Myth for me. He was the perfect Godless Communist: Soviet Army officer, Party member, scientist, and mathematician - but, I learned, he was also a singer, songwriter, poet, and philosopher, and a deeply spiritual human being.
A year passed and I was back in Boris’ home, sitting on the couch after another of those Russian feed-your-guest-till-he-groans dinners, sipping a glass of cognac and talking about the results of our meeting. He told me about the changes that had occurred in Anna’s life. I asked him what changes had occurred in his life and he said, "Well, they kicked me out of the army." After nineteen years of service, he had been stripped of all retirement benefits and dismissed. I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach, and said, "Oh, Boris, I’m so sorry. I was afraid of something like this." "No," he said, "you don’t understand. It doesn’t matter. I’ve resigned from the Communist party. I’m doing the same work as before, but now with people I like. I don’t have to wear that damned uniform every day and I don’t have to put up with the military bullshit! My work is published just as often, and I even get to work with a computer now and then. But none of this matters - The only thing that matters is that the problem in Leningrad has been solved."
By this he meant that Anna had come back to life. He went on to describe how she had, at my suggestion, started a mothers support group, working with other women who had lost sons in Afghanistan, and counseled veterans who were disabled there. She had renewed her relationship with her God, and had returned to her church. Anna had truly come back to Life.
After explaining all this Boris was still concerned about my feeling guilty and he reminded me of the song he had written for me. "I realized that you were an American when I said, ‘Comrade, mercy for tea,’ and you answered in English. In my song I said ‘I feared an international incident and I hesitated as you offered your tea, but your eyes were kind and my feet carried me to you.’ I knew, at that moment," he said, "that there would be big trouble. I chose to continue! By the time we were at the cemetery it was already too late for me." And again we toasted, "to tea and providence".
"It was you who proposed that it was providence that brought us together and introduced me to the idea that maybe Divine Providence had played a role in our friendship," he said. "You have to understand that I was raised in the age of materialism, and by that we do not mean the accumulation of material wealth. We were taught that we are nothing but that of which we are made." I have known since I was a child that there was something, here, inside of me," he said, jabbing a finger into the center of his sternum, "something in here, much bigger than that which I am. I think it may be this thing you call God. I shall study on this some more."
There have been many changes in my own life, as well. After building dreams for rich folks for the last thirteen years I have closed down my yacht building business and have dedicated myself to building dreams of a higher order.
One of the interviews we conducted in Leningrad was with a group of Afghansti. These five Afghanistan Veterans were very excited to meet a Vietnam vet, and we went to the home of one of the guy’s parents to set up the interview. Because we hadn’t taken the camera crew with us what happened there was lost to film.
All five of them were there. At the invitation of our hostess we sat down for tea, and immediately began one of the most intense discussions I have ever been involved in. I was fairly well interrogated by my hosts. "We’ve heard that you all came back from Vietnam as wealthy men. Is it true?" one asked. "Were you drafted or did you volunteer?" "How did you feel about US involvement?" For an hour they continued. All this time one man sat quietly rolling a small yellow cylinder, about the size of a water glass, back and forth between his hands, never looking up, or changing his angry expression. Finally he looked up, straight into my eyes, and his tight jaws moved just enough for him to softly ask, "Do you know what an M-14 is?"
"Yes", I answered quickly, "That was the designator of the rifle our troops carried during my first tour in Vietnam. It was later replaced by the M16."
In the time it took to say that, the color of his neck turned crimson.
"No!" he said, "This is an M-14!" And, shaking the cylinder in my face, he continued angrily, "It is an all plastic anti-personnel mine, made in America. It was one of these that blew my legs off in Afghanistan. You’re sitting in the living room of my home, how does this make you feel, American?"
When I could, I answered, "I can only tell you that it was a Russian made rocket that killed five of my comrades and wounded me in Vietnam." Tears crept out of the corners of our eyes, and we put our arms around each other and came to an understanding of what had really happened to us that few who were not involved could ever understand. Each had faced the weapons of the other - fought each other - on the soil of third party nations. Later, he showed me his legs.
He had been on the waiting list for two years before he got artificial limbs that were hand carved out of wood. They were heavy, with steel hinges at the knees, and they did not fit properly. At the end of each day he poured the blood out of the sockets that continued to do damage to his stumps. I made a silent vow to find a way to do something about that, someday.
In 1993 I started a non-profit corporation called Prosthetics Development Group International. The purpose of PDGI is to establish laboratories that provide prosthetics to people in need, wherever they are needed, by providing the technology and training necessary for the sustainable operation of those laboratories and by developing international resources and relationships that enhance indigenous capabilities; to act in advocacy for the disabled by promoting their education and rehabilitation, and by generating opportunities for the fulfillment of individual potential; and to promote prosthetics development by fostering collaboration, adaptation, dissemination and replication of an ever improving technology.
In September of 1991 the organization of Rotarians I founded to support the documentary series sponsored a delegation of top level Soviets to come to British Columbia and Washington for two weeks of study. One of the members of that delegation was Fr. Michael Kirril, People’s Deputy and Archimandrite of the Russian Orthodox Church. After their farewell dinner I told the story of the Midnight Train From Moscow. Father Kirril put his arm around me and told me that the next time I came to Russia I must come to his church to be baptized.
In June of 1992, I went to the ancient city of Tula - older than Moscow itself - and was baptized in Father Kirril’s church - not because I wanted to subscribe to Russian Orthodox dogma, because I know very little about the church, but simply because I wanted to formalize my relationship with God there in Russia where I found Him. . . on that Midnight Train from Moscow.
There is an old Hassidic tale about a rabbi and a group of his followers who were studying life’s problems. They were trying to determine that point in time at which night becomes day. There were many proposals from the people, but finally one man said, "Rabbi, night becomes day when there is enough light in the heavens that a man can look into the field and tell the difference between the lion and the lamb."
The Rabbi shook his head sadly and said, "No, night becomes day when there is enough light in a man’s spirit that he can look into the eyes of another man and recognize him as his brother." That is the light we share with this story - The light I found in the eyes of my enemy.
I am convinced that each one of us has the power and the opportunity to have a positive impact on the evolution of this global society. I believe that the iron curtain has not fallen - rather, it has risen like a curtain on a stage, and on that stage stands one of the greatest creative potentials the world has seen since the industrial revolution. I am convinced that we have an opportunity to redefine defense - no longer in terms of stockpiles of arms - but rather, in terms of living relationships. And I believe that we are all children of one God, sons and daughters of one mother Earth, and brothers and sisters - all.

The Battle for Plei Ya Bo (Three Trees)

2007-01-14T21:03:00.000-05:00

THE BATTLE OF PLEI YA BO (Three Trees)
July 23, 1967
We were all dug in for the night. I mean we had our foxholes dug, with logs on top. Just all of a sudden there was a sudden rattle of shots off in the direction where "C" Company was dug in. Heads whipped around, weapons were snatched up, and our men started heading for their foxholes.
The initial rattle of fire was increasing, raging like a lethal windstorm in the distance. I clutched my M16 in my left hand ready for action. Shots began snapping over our heads from the direction. I don't know if you have ever experienced a bullet snapping over your head or not but the bullet makes a load crack 1st and you then hear the thud of the gun that fired the shot. Then all of a sudden our Company Commander, Captain Buie, voice came on our radios and told us leave our Rucksacks and be ready to move Eight-Threes location. This meant that we were that we were to be ready to move to "C" Company's location at the far end of the five or six-hundred-yard meadow. Just then an enemy rocket hit the trunk of a eucalyptus tree in the perimeter, raking the place with splinters and bark. We moved out through the yellow grass of the meadow under an overcast sky. The hundred and forty men of my company were in a diamond formation. There were all sorts of of sounds snapping and whooshing overhead but the real roaring sound was on the ground ahead of us. I was at the front of the diamond therefore I was among the first to reach the "C"companies perimeter. I will never forget looking for cover on the battle side of the perimeter. I remember shooting at everything that moved to my front. I remember shooting an enemy RPG ammo bearer in the mid-section thus killing him instantly and igniting all of his RPG rounds. Here comes our fighter support I heard someone shout. I looked back over my shoulder and I saw a F-100 was coming in ahead of its sound and a huge napalm canister appeared to be headed right towards me but it hit about 100 meters to my front . More fighters and more bombs. The Artillery was still firing. The shrapnel was raining down all around me. Finally all of the Artillery had been shut off and now all the noises were slackening and finally silence. I will never forget a Dustoff Chopper (Medivac Chopper) landed and then another one. Men in the crucified position arms over their buddies shoulders, were hobbling towards the choppers. Men were walking on their own power with one hand gripping the field dressing on a bloody arm. Now we're going after them.We were going to chase the enemy. Back in diamond formation again. We walked across the "C" company perimeter, some of us fixing our bayonets, and into that wall of trees where the bullets and rockets and grenades had come from. In the wet leaves and vines were bloody bandages and strange blue-dyed cotton masks, all North Vietnamese, and in a minute we came to an open space in the trees where one of their mortars had been. I found a young ammo bearer crying in pain from his wounds. We stared at the tubular cartons that had held the shells they had rained down on us. Just a few yards from where I found the NVA, all of a sudden I saw two NVA in a foxhole with their AK-47s pointed right at me. I brought up my M16 and I had the safety off. Then they threw up threw their weapons right toward me and gave themselves up. The instant that I saw them my anger vanished. Two small Vietnamese in their thirties, bareheaded and wearing sand colored uniform, had just given themselves up to me. They bowed repeatedly, as they stared up at me from their shallow foxhole, They raised both hands in the position of prayer, striking their foreheads in the Buddhist sign of mercy. One of them was slightly wounded. The engagement had started just beyond here at the widest part of this old logging road, when one of "C" company's platoons had been ambushed as they were coming back up this road, nearing the end of a patrol. About 50 yards on, beside the road, the American bodies were in stacked like green logs with white and black arms protruding from them. An effort had been made be the reinforcements from "A" company to cover them with ponchos, but the ponchos kept slipping off. There had no rounds fired by either side for a few minutes. A Chopper came in to take out the prisoners for a rapid interrogation to see if we could find out more about what we were up against. The Chopper landed, the North Vietnamese were led toward it, and a hail of shots came from the jungle, aimed at the North Vietnamese by their own men. A murderously personal high pitched snapping string of enemy machine-gun bullets came after us. The machine gun let loose another eerie burst, and then there was the sudden clanging sound of an M-16, right in there with it, dueling it. There was a short burst from the machine gun, a longer clip-emptying burst from the American weapon, and silence. I did not know it but one of my best friends Stanley Wesley Dix of New Orleans had just charged forward by himself, silencing the machine gun, killed three North Vietnamese, and died, winning a posthumous Silver Star for that day. It was later that I found out that Dix had laid down his life for his white and black comrades on the same day that there had been race riots in Newark, New Jersey, in which Americans killed other Americans.

All total of 21 Brave young men died in this battle.
Name Rank Unit Date of KIA Hometown State Line #
Dix, Stanley Wesley SP4 B/3/8 7/23/1967 New Orleans LA 23E/109
Barrett, Charles Arthur II 1LT C/3/8 7/23/1967 Glenville WV 23E/108
Beranek, Dean Mitchell SGT C/3/8 7/23/1967 Rice Lake WI 23E/109
Blaese, Ronald Paul PFC C/3/8 7/23/1967 Combined Locks WI 23E/109
Fischer, James Robert SGT C/3/8 7/23/1967 Oshkosh WI 23E/110
Goldsmith, Roger Dwight SP4 C/3/8 7/23/1967 Black River Falls WI 23E/110
Irizarry, Jose Angel PFC C/3/8 7/23/1967 New York NY 23E/111
Jarrett, Lemoyndue SP4 C/3/8 7/23/1967 Alton IL 23E/111
Johnson, Samuel Arlon SP4 C/3/8 7/23/1967 Peebles OH 23E/111
Mooer, Gary Owen SP4 C/3/8 7/23/1967 Rosebud MT 23E/111
Nelson, Robert Allen SGT C/3/8 7/23/1967 Alton IL 23E/112
Oliver, Charles Edward PFC C/3/8 7/23/1967 Seminole OK 23E/113
Rodrigues, Eugenio SP4 C/3/8 7/23/1967 Santa Fe Springs CA 23E/113
Saltmarsh, James John PFC C/3/8 7/23/1967 Ausable Forks NY 23E/113
Steadman, Sterling Dwight SP4 C/3/8 7/23/1967 Lake Stevens WA 23E/114
Stinnett, Richard Doil SGT C/3/8 7/23/1967 Roseburg OR 23E/114
Volpone, Dante PFC C/3/8 7/23/1967 Newark NJ 23E/114
Wells, Bobby Gene PFC C/3/8 7/23/1967 Flowery Branch GA 23E/115
Lebitz, Stephen Jr. SP4 HHC/3/8 7/23/1967 Forest Hills NY 23E/111
Sutton, Larry Ivan SP4 HHC/3/8 7/23/1967 Danbury WI 23E/114
Tramell, Daniel PFC HHC/3/8 7/23/1967 Bakersfield CA 23E/114

The Battle for Plei Doch

2007-01-14T20:49:00.000-05:00

The Battle of Plei Doch
This major battle took place May 26, 1967.The battle lasted for about 4 hours. My Company, "B" Company, had just finished climbing a huge mountain on the Cambodian boarder. Our sister Company "C" was climbing up the same mountain behind us was attempting to link up with us @ the top of the mountain. "C" company had been taking a break, sprawled on the ground before tackling the last part of the ridge, when the enemy opened up on them with everything. Captain Powers ("C" Company Commander) rose to see what was happening and he was killed instantly with a bullet between the eyes. The enemy made eight separate charges sideways across the hill, and "C" Company kept driving them off and attacking uphill at still more North Vietnamese who were blocking their chance of linking up with us, "B" Company, on the crest. A "C" Company lieutenant, Clay Johnson, was killed leading the attack uphill that began to break the enemy resistance, and was being put in for the Distinguished Service Cross.. The First Sargent had taken over, leading the rush that broke through to join up with us "B" Company, which was fighting its way downhill toward them. He had been wounded through both hands, and was also in for the Distinguished Service Cross. Ten of our brave Dragoons had been killed that day. Although Cpt. Powers had died with the first rounds, he had saved his company because, even resting beside a trail in sloping rain forest, he kept them spread out in a big diamond formation. When the unexpected attack came, they were ready, simply because of the way they had been placed, and were able to maneuver instead of being trapped in single file on the trail. After the battle was over I still remember moping up. I personally saw this Specialist 4th Class boy, whom had carried a 12 Gauge pump shotgun, lying dead with a huge pile of shotgun empty casings underneath him and a pile of dead North Vietnamese Regulars directly to his front. He had just killed all of them with his 00 Buck Shot Rounds. I have emailed everyone possible in an attempt to identify his name. I have finally discovered his name, Richard Edward Wilkins, from Mountlake Terrace, Wa. I have also discover his Cousin Paul Beals from Ester Alaska and his brother Dan Wilkins from Wa. Through emails I have also discovered that Richard had been presented with the Silver Star Posthumous for his action that day. I told Paul that I was glad that the Military gave him such a high Award.

10 Good Men Lost Their Lives in this Battle

NAME RANK UNIT Date of KIA Hometown State Line #
Dodd, Lawrence Rudin SP4 C/3/8 5/26/1967 Aromas CA 20E/113
Fitzgerald, Terence Patrick SP4 C/3/8 5/26/1967 San Francisco CA 20E/114
Gaines, Phillip Ray PFC C/3/8 5/26/1967 East St Louis IL 20E/115
Johnson, Clayton Winslow 1LT C/3/8 5/26/1967 Evanston IL 20E/117
Mesarosh, Donald Earl SP4 C/3/8 5/26/1967 Louisville KY 20E/120
Morales, Ramon J. PFC C/3/8 5/26/1967 Alton IL 20E/121
Powers, James Conrad CPT C/3/8 5/26/1967 Dubuque IA 20E/123
Roell, Michael Conrad PFC C/3/8 5/26/1967 Hillsdale NJ 20E/123
Wilkins, Richard Edward SP4 C/3/8 5/26/1967 Mountlake Terr WA 20E/125
Wooldridge, Paul M. Jr. PFC C/3/8 5/26/1967 Metropolis IL 20E/127

My Introduction

2007-01-13T21:17:00.008-05:00

Hello,

I'm Ken Ervin, and I'm attempting to tell my story about the Viet Nam War.

I launched this web site in January of 2007, abt. 40 years after my entering the Viet Nam War. After all these years, it is my hope that some of the insights gained during this period will be of use to others and may provide a better understanding of what the war was like. This web site on the Viet Nam War is my effort to commemorate those Americans whom fought in this war.

Remember, "All GAVE SOME BUT SOME GAVE ALL". We lost 280 precious lives from my Battalion of which included 61 from my company from 11/10/1966 (the 1st KIA) thru 5/23/1970 (the last KIA). They were America's finest young men and most of them were Army Volunteers and not all were draftees. It's a shame that we were treated the way that we were.

Below are some assembled facts most readers will find interesting. It isn't a long read, but it will....I guarantee....teach you some things you did not know about the Vietnam War and those who served, fought, or died there. Please share it with those with whom you communicate.

Vietnam War Facts, Statistics, Fake Warrior Numbers, and Myths Dispelled:
9,087,000 military personnel served on active duty during the official Vietnam era from August 5, 1964 to May 7, 1975.
2,709,918 Americans served in uniform in Vietnam Veterans represented 9.7% of their generation.
240 men were awarded the Medal of Honor during the Vietnam War The first man to die in Vietnam was James Davis, in 1958. He was with the 509th Radio Research Station. Davis Station inSaigon was named for him.
58,148 were killed in Vietnam
75,000 were severely disabled
23,214 were 100% disabled
5,283 lost limbs
1,081 sustained multiple amputations
Of those killed, 61% were younger than 21
11,465 of those killed were younger than 20 years old
Of those killed, 17,539 were married
Average age of men killed: 23.1 years
Five men killed in Vietnam were only 16 years old.
The oldest man killed was 62 years old.
As of January 15, 2004, there are 1,875 Americans still unaccounted for from the Vietnam War
97% of Vietnam Veterans were honorably discharged
91% of Vietnam Veterans say they are glad they served
74% say they would serve again, even knowing the outcome
Vietnam veterans have a lower unemployment rate than the same non-vet age groups.
Vietnam veterans' personal income exceeds that of our non-veteran age group by more than 18 percent.
87% of Americans hold Vietnam Veterans in high esteem.
There is no difference in drug usage between Vietnam Veterans and non-Vietnam Veterans of the same age group (Source: Veterans Administration Study)
Vietnam Veterans are less likely to be in prison - only one-half of one percent of Vietnam Veterans have been jailed for crimes.
85% of Vietnam Veterans made successful transitions to civilian life.

Myth: Common Belief is that most Vietnam veterans were drafted.

Fact: 2/3 of the men who served in Vietnam were volunteers. 2/3 of the men who served in World War II were drafted. Approximately 70% of those killed in Vietnam were volunteers.

I was in two major battles and many smaller conflicts during my tour of duty over there (11/22/1966-11/22/1967). The two major battles that I was in were "The Battle of Plei Doc" and "The Battle of Plei Ya Bo (Three Trees)".

Finally, my time had arrived for me to return to the WORLD (Term for going home). For myself, I felt like I had been given a new lease of life. Reborn by all the experiences, I learned to become more focused on what was really important in life. I knew that some things in life were just not that important to me anymore. That life was really about finding God and helping others. Nothing else was that necessary.

I had some very close calls. I saw things that I can and will never share, but I knew that God had taken care of me. I was grateful for all that I had. I was going to leave Nam with all my body parts and not in some plastic bag. I would never take life for granted again ever. I wanted to live each moment. I wanted to enjoy the small things once again - like hot showers and cold milk. I wanted to hug the world. I wanted to "Kiss the sky"

I sure do appreciate Charlie Flood for his wonderful book "WAR OF THE INNOCENTS" - Battle of Three Trees. Thanks to him for bringing back old memories that I had almost forgotten over the last 39 years. I highly recommend this book because Charlie (a Civilian War Journalist) was there with us on that day (July 23, 1967) and I can vouch for Charlie. I'm including a link to Amazon.com where you can order this fine book.
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"THE WAR OF THE INNOCENTS" - Battle of Three Trees.

by Charles Bracelen Flood, a War Correspondent
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0553290401/qid=1097020530/sr=1-6/ref=sr_1_6/102-7572489-2021719?s=books&v=glance&n=283155
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I'M ALSO INCLUDING A STORY FROM MY GOOD FRIEND PAUL BEALS ADDRESSED TO ME'
THE MIDNIGHT TRAIN FROM MOSCOW
BY: Paul Beal