PUBLICATION FORT WAYNE - THE JOURNAL GAZETTE
ALL CONTENT COPYRIGHT © 1996 FORT WAYNE - THE JOURNAL GAZETTE AND MAY NOT BE REPUBLISHED WITHOUT PERMISSION.
TAG: 199605140006
DATE: Tuesday, May 14, 1996
EDITION: FINAL
SECTION: A SECTION
PAGE: 1A
ILLUSTRATION: SEE MICROFILM FOR CHART SHOWING HISTORY OF REMAINS
SOURCE: By Tracy Van Moorlehem The Journal Gazette
DENTIST: REMAINS AREN'T CITY SOLDIER'S
The remains buried in a Fort Wayne soldier's grave are actually those of a fallen comrade, a local dental expert has determined. Dr. Phillip O'Shaughnessy determined the remains, thought to be those of Pfc. Mark Judge of Fort Wayne, are those of Cpl. William A. Berry of California. He drew that conclusion by comparing the remains against Berry's original dental records.
``There's no doubt in my mind that this was the body of William Berry,'' O'Shaughnessy said Monday.
Judge's mother, Mary Jellison of Fort Wayne, had the remains exhumed in April. She commissioned O'Shaughnessy's study after two years of wrangling with military officials about how to settle a suspected mix-up of remains identified 30 years ago. Judge and Berry were among 31 killed by North Vietnamese soldiers while defending a Marine outpost south of the demilitarized zone near Con Thien. Gunfire in the ambush was so fierce that 15 bodies had to be left behind. When U.S. forces returned three weeks later, only 14 could be found. Mortuary workers identified the others as best they could, determining that the missing soldier was Lance Cpl. Kenneth Plumadore of New York. They returned a set of remains to Jellison, who buried her eldest son, grieved and then tried to rebuild her life. So the story would have ended, but for a new set of remains found in 1986 that cast doubt on the original identification. Military officials contacted Jellison in August 1994 to tell her of the possible mix-up. They said they believed the new remains to be Judge's, the Fort Wayne remains to be Berry's and the remains buried in Berry's California grave to be Plumadore's. The military said a DNA test confirmed that the 1986 remains were Judge's. But Jellison doubts the accuracy of the test and has asked for a private DNA test to confirm the findings. On Monday, she said the case was at a standstill. ``I don't know what the next step is going to be,'' she said. ``I wish they would get it settled. I wish they would make a move one way or another.'' Her greatest fear has been that the military would take away the Fort Wayne remains without proving to her satisfaction the 1986 remains are her son's. O'Shaughnessy, a forensic odontologist who is volunteering his time to help Jellison, said he too hopes the case is drawing to a close. He said the next step will be to examine the 1986 remains and conclude whether or not they are Judge's. While he understands how difficult the revelation has been for Jellison, O'Shaughnessy said he believes military experts are trying to do the right thing by her. ``The question always remains, why didn't they let the thing go? Instead, they took the more difficult route and told the families involved they may have made a mistake. You have to commend them for that.'' But Jellison wonders why, after finding the remains in 1986, it took eight years to notify her and the other families of the snafu. ``If they knew it was Mark, why didn't they let us know? You don't keep a boy on a shelf for eight years and not let a mother know,'' she said. Beverly Baker, a spokeswoman for the Department of Defense, said the military has not scheduled a review board to rule officially the Fort Wayne remains as Berry's. ``There have been no changes on the case as of today,'' she said Monday.
Part four will be posted on Friday, Sept. 7, 2007.
02 September 2007
27 August 2007
Part Two - Mark Warren Judge
PUBLICATION FORT WAYNE - THE JOURNAL GAZETTE
ALL CONTENT COPYRIGHT © 1996 FORT WAYNE - THE JOURNAL GAZETTE AND MAY NOT BE REPUBLISHED WITHOUT PERMISSION.
TAG: 199604100076
DATE: Wednesday, April 10, 1996
EDITION: FINAL
SECTION: A SECTION
PAGE: 1A
ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO CAPTIONS APPEAR AT BOTTOM OF STORY SEE MICROFILM FOR GRAPHIC SHOWING DETAILS OF THREE BODIES THAT WERE RETURNED FROM VIETNAM THAT OFFICIALS NOW BELIEVE HAVE BEEN INVOLVED IN A MIX-UP. (THESE WERE MARK JUDGE, KENNETH PLUMADORE AND WILLIAM BERRY.) BY MIKE ROYER / THE JOURNAL GAZETTE. (ALSO CONTAINS A HEADSHOT OF JUDGE.
SOURCE: By Julie Zasadny The Journal Gazette
VIETNAM MYSTERY EXHUMED BY MOM IDENTITY CHALLENGED 29 YEARS AFTER BURIAL
Mary Jellison blinked back tears Tuesday during a short memorial service for her son, killed 29 years ago in Vietnam. She leaned on relatives while a backhoe removed dirt from the grave. She watched silently as a coffin was lifted from the ground at Concordia Cemetery Gardens and cried when the lid was pried open, revealing her son's Marine dress uniform.
Three decades after the funeral for her son, Jellison was again at his grave, facing again the tragedy of his death. But she already had resolved that opening the grave was something she had to do. The exhumation is expected to answer questions that have lingered since Jellison learned that the body she buried there in 1967 may not be that of her son, Mark W. Judge. Judge was among 31 Marines killed by North Vietnamese soldiers while defending a Marine outpost near Con Thien in September 1967. U.S. officials returned what they believed was his body to his mother for burial. But in August 1994, U.S. military officials told Jellison the body buried in the grave may not be her son. They acknowledged that military medical experts may have misidentified three bodies - one buried in Fort Wayne, one buried in California and one that wasn't found immediately after the battle. The revelation came after the Vietnamese recovered the body of an unknown soldier near the battlefield in 1986. Military officials now believe the unknown soldier returned in 1986 is Judge, and the remains in Judge's Fort Wayne grave are those of William A. Berry, a Marine from California. They believe Kenneth Plumadore of Syracuse, N.Y., lies in Berry's grave. Plumadore had been listed as missing in action/presumed dead. Jellison didn't want to exhume Judge's grave. But the families want their questions answered. Jellison decided to dig up the grave on her own and didn't tell military officials what she was doing. ``Right now, we are so desperate to see it before the government does,'' Jellison said. By the end of the day Tuesday, the bones in the coffin had been examined by experts. But the most important question remains: Whose body lies in Judge's grave? Jellison never wanted to be in this situation. She didn't want to be standing at her son's grave, the lapels of her navy wool coat turned up against the cold, the sound of shovels scraping on a concrete vault in the background. ``It's been 29 years, and it seems like a bad dream,'' she said. ``It shouldn't be happening. ``It's not fair to the boy to be interrupted.'' Jellison has fought government efforts to exhume the body. She feared officials would take the body without giving her a chance to have the remains tested herself. Jellison was feeling pressure. A military review board hearing April 19 is expected to give officials the right to dig up the grave. The exhumation brought together for the first time members of all three families whose lives now are intertwined. Pat Plumadore, Kenneth Plumadore's sister, came in from Syracuse, N.Y. Fred Berry, William Berry's brother, came from Roseburg, Ore. Fred Berry has vowed not to dig up his brother's grave in Yreka, Calif., unless there is sufficient reason. ``Somebody's got to prove something to me. Otherwise, my brother's staying where he is,'' he said. Pat Plumadore was apprehensive about what the exhumation might uncover. ``I don't want anybody to end up with nothing,'' she said. But she is eager to find out whether she finally will have a body to bury. Before the digging started, 14 people huddled around Judge's grave, listening to the Rev. Arthur Klausmeier of Emmanuel Lutheran Church, 917 W. Jefferson Blvd., read words Jellison had written. ``Give all here today the knowledge and wisdom to find the answers to our many questions,'' he read. Fifteen minutes later, the group watched as a yellow backhoe started removing mounds of dirt from the 10-by-10 hole. After two dozen scoops, workers with shovels jumped into the hole to clear dirt from the sides of the vault. The process was slow. Most people returned to their cars to get warm, but Kevin Jellison, Judge's younger brother, stayed. He was 9 years old when his brother was buried. Kevin Jellison remembers riding in the hearse with the Marine escort. ``Twenty-nine years ago,'' he said quietly, gazing at the grave. Cemetery workers found two shells from Judge's military gun salute that were embedded in the dirt around the grave. They gave them to Mary Jellison, who turned them over and over in her hand. One and a half hours later, the backhoe lifted the coffin from the ground. Indiana University anthropologist Steve Nawrocki and Allen County Chief Deputy Coroner Phillip E. O'Shaughnessy examined the exhumed bones, which had turned black from minerals in water that had seeped into the coffin. They weren't ready to draw any conclusions Tuesday about the skeleton's identity. ``It's really confusing,'' O'Shaughnessy said. ``There's three sets of records to check. We don't want to do this haphazardly.'' There is confusion, he said, because the body has been buried for a long time, and some parts are missing. The body now is being stored in a mausoleum at the cemetery. In a back room at the Concordia Cemetery Gardens office, Nawrocki cleaned the bones and laid them in sequence to dry. A green toothbrush, blue paper towels and a box of rubber gloves lay among the bones. Jerry Dennis came from Largo, Fla., to help with the identification. He has been in Jellison's shoes - the military returned remains it said were his brother's in 1966. Now his brother is listed as a prisoner of war. Dennis, who has been researching his brother's case for years, said the cheekbones are in good shape for identification purposes. Several teeth can be used for DNA testing. Jellison doesn't know when - or where - she will get the tests done. She is trying to find a DNA lab that doesn't have a contract with the federal government. She has piles of documents detailing the ups and downs of the case. All she wants is the truth. ``Now with all of these doubts they planted, you don't know what to believe,'' Jellison said. ``I want to believe I have my son. But I have to know so I can put it to rest.''
CAPTION: PHOTO BY CATHIE ROWAND / THE JOURNAL GAZETTE: Mary Jellison, center, and family watch Tuesday as the earth is removed from the grave of her son, Mark Judge , at Concordia Cemetery Gardens in Fort Wayne. Judge was killed in Vietnam. The military says it thinks the wrong remains are buried in the plot.
PHOTO 2 BY ANDREW JOHNSTON / THE JOURNAL GAZETTE (RAN ON 4A): Jerry Dennis, of Largo, Fla., looks at remains exhumed Tuesday from Mark Judge's gravesite. He was to help identify the remains.
Part three will be posted on Sept. 3, 2007.
ALL CONTENT COPYRIGHT © 1996 FORT WAYNE - THE JOURNAL GAZETTE AND MAY NOT BE REPUBLISHED WITHOUT PERMISSION.
TAG: 199604100076
DATE: Wednesday, April 10, 1996
EDITION: FINAL
SECTION: A SECTION
PAGE: 1A
ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO CAPTIONS APPEAR AT BOTTOM OF STORY SEE MICROFILM FOR GRAPHIC SHOWING DETAILS OF THREE BODIES THAT WERE RETURNED FROM VIETNAM THAT OFFICIALS NOW BELIEVE HAVE BEEN INVOLVED IN A MIX-UP. (THESE WERE MARK JUDGE, KENNETH PLUMADORE AND WILLIAM BERRY.) BY MIKE ROYER / THE JOURNAL GAZETTE. (ALSO CONTAINS A HEADSHOT OF JUDGE.
SOURCE: By Julie Zasadny The Journal Gazette
VIETNAM MYSTERY EXHUMED BY MOM IDENTITY CHALLENGED 29 YEARS AFTER BURIAL
Mary Jellison blinked back tears Tuesday during a short memorial service for her son, killed 29 years ago in Vietnam. She leaned on relatives while a backhoe removed dirt from the grave. She watched silently as a coffin was lifted from the ground at Concordia Cemetery Gardens and cried when the lid was pried open, revealing her son's Marine dress uniform.
Three decades after the funeral for her son, Jellison was again at his grave, facing again the tragedy of his death. But she already had resolved that opening the grave was something she had to do. The exhumation is expected to answer questions that have lingered since Jellison learned that the body she buried there in 1967 may not be that of her son, Mark W. Judge. Judge was among 31 Marines killed by North Vietnamese soldiers while defending a Marine outpost near Con Thien in September 1967. U.S. officials returned what they believed was his body to his mother for burial. But in August 1994, U.S. military officials told Jellison the body buried in the grave may not be her son. They acknowledged that military medical experts may have misidentified three bodies - one buried in Fort Wayne, one buried in California and one that wasn't found immediately after the battle. The revelation came after the Vietnamese recovered the body of an unknown soldier near the battlefield in 1986. Military officials now believe the unknown soldier returned in 1986 is Judge, and the remains in Judge's Fort Wayne grave are those of William A. Berry, a Marine from California. They believe Kenneth Plumadore of Syracuse, N.Y., lies in Berry's grave. Plumadore had been listed as missing in action/presumed dead. Jellison didn't want to exhume Judge's grave. But the families want their questions answered. Jellison decided to dig up the grave on her own and didn't tell military officials what she was doing. ``Right now, we are so desperate to see it before the government does,'' Jellison said. By the end of the day Tuesday, the bones in the coffin had been examined by experts. But the most important question remains: Whose body lies in Judge's grave? Jellison never wanted to be in this situation. She didn't want to be standing at her son's grave, the lapels of her navy wool coat turned up against the cold, the sound of shovels scraping on a concrete vault in the background. ``It's been 29 years, and it seems like a bad dream,'' she said. ``It shouldn't be happening. ``It's not fair to the boy to be interrupted.'' Jellison has fought government efforts to exhume the body. She feared officials would take the body without giving her a chance to have the remains tested herself. Jellison was feeling pressure. A military review board hearing April 19 is expected to give officials the right to dig up the grave. The exhumation brought together for the first time members of all three families whose lives now are intertwined. Pat Plumadore, Kenneth Plumadore's sister, came in from Syracuse, N.Y. Fred Berry, William Berry's brother, came from Roseburg, Ore. Fred Berry has vowed not to dig up his brother's grave in Yreka, Calif., unless there is sufficient reason. ``Somebody's got to prove something to me. Otherwise, my brother's staying where he is,'' he said. Pat Plumadore was apprehensive about what the exhumation might uncover. ``I don't want anybody to end up with nothing,'' she said. But she is eager to find out whether she finally will have a body to bury. Before the digging started, 14 people huddled around Judge's grave, listening to the Rev. Arthur Klausmeier of Emmanuel Lutheran Church, 917 W. Jefferson Blvd., read words Jellison had written. ``Give all here today the knowledge and wisdom to find the answers to our many questions,'' he read. Fifteen minutes later, the group watched as a yellow backhoe started removing mounds of dirt from the 10-by-10 hole. After two dozen scoops, workers with shovels jumped into the hole to clear dirt from the sides of the vault. The process was slow. Most people returned to their cars to get warm, but Kevin Jellison, Judge's younger brother, stayed. He was 9 years old when his brother was buried. Kevin Jellison remembers riding in the hearse with the Marine escort. ``Twenty-nine years ago,'' he said quietly, gazing at the grave. Cemetery workers found two shells from Judge's military gun salute that were embedded in the dirt around the grave. They gave them to Mary Jellison, who turned them over and over in her hand. One and a half hours later, the backhoe lifted the coffin from the ground. Indiana University anthropologist Steve Nawrocki and Allen County Chief Deputy Coroner Phillip E. O'Shaughnessy examined the exhumed bones, which had turned black from minerals in water that had seeped into the coffin. They weren't ready to draw any conclusions Tuesday about the skeleton's identity. ``It's really confusing,'' O'Shaughnessy said. ``There's three sets of records to check. We don't want to do this haphazardly.'' There is confusion, he said, because the body has been buried for a long time, and some parts are missing. The body now is being stored in a mausoleum at the cemetery. In a back room at the Concordia Cemetery Gardens office, Nawrocki cleaned the bones and laid them in sequence to dry. A green toothbrush, blue paper towels and a box of rubber gloves lay among the bones. Jerry Dennis came from Largo, Fla., to help with the identification. He has been in Jellison's shoes - the military returned remains it said were his brother's in 1966. Now his brother is listed as a prisoner of war. Dennis, who has been researching his brother's case for years, said the cheekbones are in good shape for identification purposes. Several teeth can be used for DNA testing. Jellison doesn't know when - or where - she will get the tests done. She is trying to find a DNA lab that doesn't have a contract with the federal government. She has piles of documents detailing the ups and downs of the case. All she wants is the truth. ``Now with all of these doubts they planted, you don't know what to believe,'' Jellison said. ``I want to believe I have my son. But I have to know so I can put it to rest.''
CAPTION: PHOTO BY CATHIE ROWAND / THE JOURNAL GAZETTE: Mary Jellison, center, and family watch Tuesday as the earth is removed from the grave of her son, Mark Judge , at Concordia Cemetery Gardens in Fort Wayne. Judge was killed in Vietnam. The military says it thinks the wrong remains are buried in the plot.
PHOTO 2 BY ANDREW JOHNSTON / THE JOURNAL GAZETTE (RAN ON 4A): Jerry Dennis, of Largo, Fla., looks at remains exhumed Tuesday from Mark Judge's gravesite. He was to help identify the remains.
Part three will be posted on Sept. 3, 2007.
20 August 2007
Part One: The Odyssey of Mark Warren Judge, A Navy Cross Winner
PUBLICATION FORT WAYNE - THE JOURNAL GAZETTE
ALL CONTENT COPYRIGHT © 1995 FORT WAYNE - THE JOURNAL GAZETTE AND MAY NOT BE REPUBLISHED WITHOUT PERMISSION.
TAG: 199501160038
DATE: Monday, January 16, 1995
EDITION: FINAL
SECTION: A SECTION
PAGE: 1A
ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO BY Samuel Hoffman / The Journal Gazette: Mary Jellison visits the grave of her son, Mark Warren Judge, at Concordia Cemetery Gardens. She was notified in August that the remains buried there might not be her son's, but the case remains unresolved.
SOURCE: Mother mourns - and wonders By Tracy Van Moorlehem Staff writer
A WAR FOR TRUTH, FINAL REST 3 DECADES LATER, WOMAN BATTLES FOR DETAILS OF SON'S BURIAL
There is an unknown soldier in Box 15, Stored in a warehouse on a shelf unseen. No grave, no flowers for this fallen Marine. - Pat Plumadore
They speak frequently now on the telephone, Mary Jellison seated before a TV tray spread with papers in her Fort Wayne home, and Pat Plumadore before a similar pile of official documents in Syracuse, N.Y. They sort through the papers together, searching for a nugget of truth that will help them believe what they can't really know. One a mother, the other a sister of boys lost in the Vietnam War, Jellison and Plumadore are bound by the thread of a story that began nearly 30 years ago near Con Thien, where their loved ones were thought to have died. Mark Judge, Jellison's son, and Kenny Plumadore, Pat's brother, were among 31 killed by North Vietnamese soldiers while defending a Marine outpost south of the demilitarized zone. Gunfire in the ambush was so fierce that 15 bodies had to be left behind. When U.S. forces returned three weeks later, only 14 could be found. Working with what remained, military mortuary workers listed Plumadore as Missing In Action/Presumed Dead. A set of remains thought to be those of Judge were returned to his mother and buried in Fort Wayne. But the recovery of an unknown soldier from Vietnam in 1986 and recent revelations by the U.S. military have cast doubt on those identifications. Military officials now believe the unknown soldier - recovered in what was known as Coffin 15 - is Judge, and that the remains in Judge's Fort Wayne grave are of a California soldier named William A. Berry. They believe Plumadore lies in Berry's grave. The families were notified of the possible mix-up in August, but the case remains unresolved. With identification complicated by lost records and X-rays, bureaucracy and the grief of reopened wounds, the process has all but ground to a halt. Neither Jellison nor Pat Plumadore is sure what to believe, but both doubt the military is telling them the entire truth. The two women keep in frequent touch for support and to analyze information gleaned from the government. ``On this paper they said Kenny was examined and declared dead on the scene. ``That's not true,'' Jellison said on a recent January day. ``Many, many times they've said the battle was too fierce and they couldn't stop to examine him. Do you think they would do the exam, then walk away and leave him there dead?'' The two women continued to rehash the document, until a subdued Jellison shook her head. ``Sometimes I just want to say, `Forget it. I'm not going into this grave at all.'''
Returned by Vietnam eight years ago, no name attached. Does anyone know this soldier? A hero? Some mother's son? Was he someone's husband or brother? Lord, what have they done?
Two months ago, Mary Jellison hoped the mystery could be solved, and the new remains buried before the first snowfall. She wonders whether she'll ever have peace of mind that her son has come home for his final rest. In September, Jellison and her daughter gave blood samples so the military could compare their DNA against that of the unknown soldier. When the military's testing came back showing their DNA compared favorably, she requested a private second opinion. In previous discussions, she had been led to believe the military would pay for such an outside opinion, Jellison said. But military officials, including Col. K.W. Hillman, director of the Marine Corps' Human Services Division, said the Marines never said they agreed to pay the estimated $5,000 cost. She was welcome to consult an outside specialist, but would have to pick up the tab herself, he said. Unable to afford the procedure, Jellison said she would not release the remains in her Fort Wayne grave for testing until the military had proved to her the new remains were her son. In November, three military officials who specialize in mortuary and casualty affairs and DNA testing met with Jellison at her home to go over their findings. They told her three specialists hired by the military had gone over the preliminary DNA results and concurred the new remains were her son's. The story, as they could piece it together, was this: Judge had been taken prisoner of war by Vietnamese soldiers, and died at an austere field hospital several days later. According to the Vietnamese government, the remains had been found buried behind a former field hospital in Vinh Linh. While she wanted to know the truth, Jellison couldn't believe what the military was telling her. If they were wrong once, she reasoned, couldn't they be wrong again? Other factors nurtured the seed of doubt. The military had lost her son's dental and chest records. And two outside specialists who examined the incomplete remains told Jellison they could not, by skeletal and dental remains alone, identify the unknown soldier as her son. With so much riding on the DNA results, Jellison renewed her plea for an outside confirmation. ``If that's my son, I want him so bad,'' she said. ``But I just can't bury another boy without knowing, for sure, that it's Mark.''
Does his family now pray over another soldier's grave? Unaware that 27 years ago a mistake may have been made? Do flowers watered by tears from his sisters' eyes grow over the grave where my brother now lies?
That's where the case stands, with the military considering Jellison's demands. In addition to a private DNA test, Jellison wants answers to what she considers discrepancies in military records. For instance, military officials say the new remains compare favorably with her son's remaining records. However, documents written in 1989, 1992 and 1994 differ on whether dental comparisons were favorable. One analysis, dated Sept. 14, 1992, said ``no records of any of the Marines in this (Con Thien) incident matched the dental remains of CILHI 0048-86.'' She also wants assurance that the military won't seek a court order to exhume Judge's Fort Wayne grave. Capt. Mark Ward of the Marines casualty affairs office, who has served as a liaison to the families, said the military has no intention of doing so. While progress may be slow, he said, Jellison's requests are working their way through the system. ``You hate to pick on the government bureaucracy, but this is a complex process, and we have to coordinate between a lot of different agencies,'' Ward said. One recent development is that Gen. James Wold, deputy assistant Secretary of Defense for POW/MIA Affairs, took over the case. That happened as a result of Indiana Sen. Richard Lugar's staff, whom Jellison contacted for help. Wold's office declined to discuss particulars of the case, but spokeswoman Beverly Baker said the general is ``committed to helping Mary resolve this situation.'' Jellison hopes that is true, but is preparing for a fight if it's not. ``I'm on the phone every night for two or three hours,'' she said. ``It's like a part-time job. I go over and over the records to make sure I understand everything that's put before me.'' Jellison takes inspiration from Pat Plumadore, who is seasoned by nearly three decades of searching for her brother, and is trying to foster her own fighting spirit. That's not always easy. ``I'm mad one day and I'm sad the next,'' she said. ``I think I fight better when I'm mad. When I'm sad I just want to give up.'' I will not forget him, my brother Marine. The unknown soldier in Box 15. Tho I don't know him and can't call him by name, I will call him `brother' and pray just the same.
Part two will be posted next Monday, August 27, 2007.
ALL CONTENT COPYRIGHT © 1995 FORT WAYNE - THE JOURNAL GAZETTE AND MAY NOT BE REPUBLISHED WITHOUT PERMISSION.
TAG: 199501160038
DATE: Monday, January 16, 1995
EDITION: FINAL
SECTION: A SECTION
PAGE: 1A
ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO BY Samuel Hoffman / The Journal Gazette: Mary Jellison visits the grave of her son, Mark Warren Judge, at Concordia Cemetery Gardens. She was notified in August that the remains buried there might not be her son's, but the case remains unresolved.
SOURCE: Mother mourns - and wonders By Tracy Van Moorlehem Staff writer
A WAR FOR TRUTH, FINAL REST 3 DECADES LATER, WOMAN BATTLES FOR DETAILS OF SON'S BURIAL
There is an unknown soldier in Box 15, Stored in a warehouse on a shelf unseen. No grave, no flowers for this fallen Marine. - Pat Plumadore
They speak frequently now on the telephone, Mary Jellison seated before a TV tray spread with papers in her Fort Wayne home, and Pat Plumadore before a similar pile of official documents in Syracuse, N.Y. They sort through the papers together, searching for a nugget of truth that will help them believe what they can't really know. One a mother, the other a sister of boys lost in the Vietnam War, Jellison and Plumadore are bound by the thread of a story that began nearly 30 years ago near Con Thien, where their loved ones were thought to have died. Mark Judge, Jellison's son, and Kenny Plumadore, Pat's brother, were among 31 killed by North Vietnamese soldiers while defending a Marine outpost south of the demilitarized zone. Gunfire in the ambush was so fierce that 15 bodies had to be left behind. When U.S. forces returned three weeks later, only 14 could be found. Working with what remained, military mortuary workers listed Plumadore as Missing In Action/Presumed Dead. A set of remains thought to be those of Judge were returned to his mother and buried in Fort Wayne. But the recovery of an unknown soldier from Vietnam in 1986 and recent revelations by the U.S. military have cast doubt on those identifications. Military officials now believe the unknown soldier - recovered in what was known as Coffin 15 - is Judge, and that the remains in Judge's Fort Wayne grave are of a California soldier named William A. Berry. They believe Plumadore lies in Berry's grave. The families were notified of the possible mix-up in August, but the case remains unresolved. With identification complicated by lost records and X-rays, bureaucracy and the grief of reopened wounds, the process has all but ground to a halt. Neither Jellison nor Pat Plumadore is sure what to believe, but both doubt the military is telling them the entire truth. The two women keep in frequent touch for support and to analyze information gleaned from the government. ``On this paper they said Kenny was examined and declared dead on the scene. ``That's not true,'' Jellison said on a recent January day. ``Many, many times they've said the battle was too fierce and they couldn't stop to examine him. Do you think they would do the exam, then walk away and leave him there dead?'' The two women continued to rehash the document, until a subdued Jellison shook her head. ``Sometimes I just want to say, `Forget it. I'm not going into this grave at all.'''
Returned by Vietnam eight years ago, no name attached. Does anyone know this soldier? A hero? Some mother's son? Was he someone's husband or brother? Lord, what have they done?
Two months ago, Mary Jellison hoped the mystery could be solved, and the new remains buried before the first snowfall. She wonders whether she'll ever have peace of mind that her son has come home for his final rest. In September, Jellison and her daughter gave blood samples so the military could compare their DNA against that of the unknown soldier. When the military's testing came back showing their DNA compared favorably, she requested a private second opinion. In previous discussions, she had been led to believe the military would pay for such an outside opinion, Jellison said. But military officials, including Col. K.W. Hillman, director of the Marine Corps' Human Services Division, said the Marines never said they agreed to pay the estimated $5,000 cost. She was welcome to consult an outside specialist, but would have to pick up the tab herself, he said. Unable to afford the procedure, Jellison said she would not release the remains in her Fort Wayne grave for testing until the military had proved to her the new remains were her son. In November, three military officials who specialize in mortuary and casualty affairs and DNA testing met with Jellison at her home to go over their findings. They told her three specialists hired by the military had gone over the preliminary DNA results and concurred the new remains were her son's. The story, as they could piece it together, was this: Judge had been taken prisoner of war by Vietnamese soldiers, and died at an austere field hospital several days later. According to the Vietnamese government, the remains had been found buried behind a former field hospital in Vinh Linh. While she wanted to know the truth, Jellison couldn't believe what the military was telling her. If they were wrong once, she reasoned, couldn't they be wrong again? Other factors nurtured the seed of doubt. The military had lost her son's dental and chest records. And two outside specialists who examined the incomplete remains told Jellison they could not, by skeletal and dental remains alone, identify the unknown soldier as her son. With so much riding on the DNA results, Jellison renewed her plea for an outside confirmation. ``If that's my son, I want him so bad,'' she said. ``But I just can't bury another boy without knowing, for sure, that it's Mark.''
Does his family now pray over another soldier's grave? Unaware that 27 years ago a mistake may have been made? Do flowers watered by tears from his sisters' eyes grow over the grave where my brother now lies?
That's where the case stands, with the military considering Jellison's demands. In addition to a private DNA test, Jellison wants answers to what she considers discrepancies in military records. For instance, military officials say the new remains compare favorably with her son's remaining records. However, documents written in 1989, 1992 and 1994 differ on whether dental comparisons were favorable. One analysis, dated Sept. 14, 1992, said ``no records of any of the Marines in this (Con Thien) incident matched the dental remains of CILHI 0048-86.'' She also wants assurance that the military won't seek a court order to exhume Judge's Fort Wayne grave. Capt. Mark Ward of the Marines casualty affairs office, who has served as a liaison to the families, said the military has no intention of doing so. While progress may be slow, he said, Jellison's requests are working their way through the system. ``You hate to pick on the government bureaucracy, but this is a complex process, and we have to coordinate between a lot of different agencies,'' Ward said. One recent development is that Gen. James Wold, deputy assistant Secretary of Defense for POW/MIA Affairs, took over the case. That happened as a result of Indiana Sen. Richard Lugar's staff, whom Jellison contacted for help. Wold's office declined to discuss particulars of the case, but spokeswoman Beverly Baker said the general is ``committed to helping Mary resolve this situation.'' Jellison hopes that is true, but is preparing for a fight if it's not. ``I'm on the phone every night for two or three hours,'' she said. ``It's like a part-time job. I go over and over the records to make sure I understand everything that's put before me.'' Jellison takes inspiration from Pat Plumadore, who is seasoned by nearly three decades of searching for her brother, and is trying to foster her own fighting spirit. That's not always easy. ``I'm mad one day and I'm sad the next,'' she said. ``I think I fight better when I'm mad. When I'm sad I just want to give up.'' I will not forget him, my brother Marine. The unknown soldier in Box 15. Tho I don't know him and can't call him by name, I will call him `brother' and pray just the same.
Part two will be posted next Monday, August 27, 2007.
17 August 2007
In Honor Of Victor Andreozzi
Bridge named in honor of Victor Patrick Andreozzi and all Vietnam War veterans
Cpl. Andreozzi's father, Victor Andreozzi Sr., and sister, Louise St. Angelo, hold an American flag which was presented to them after Cpl. Andreozzi was killed in Vietnam.
BARRINGTON - You never really die if your memory is alive. This sentiment was the overlying theme at Saturday's bridge dedication in honor of Lance Corporal Victor Patrick Andreozzi — the first Barrington resident killed in Vietnam. More than 100 friends, family and various dignitaries attended the dedication, many of them visibly emotional as the short life of the courageous young man was recounted.
The eldest son of Victor Andreozzi and the late Jean Andreozzi, Cpl. Victor Patrick Andreozzi was a father figure to his six siblings. Growing up on Bowden Avenue, the Andreozzi children would often swim, fish and dig clams in the Barrington River. John Andreozzi, the youngest member of the family recalls jumping off the White Church bridge with his siblings. "Victor would be in the water and tell me to jump and I would. I was maybe 5 or 6 and it was definitely a leap of faith. He was the only one who could get me to jump off that bridge. Victor was our safety net, our security blanket," he said.
The plaque which bears Cpl. Andreozzi's name and all Vietnam veterans was unveiled at the ceremony by family members will be displayed on the bridge when it is completed. Rhode Island Department of Transportation officials say the expected completion date is late summer 2007.
The family fought hard to get the dedication approved by the state and town officials and chose to hold the dedication now so the family patriarch, Victor Sr. could be in attendance. "Our father is 84 years old and we wanted him to be a part of this special event," said Victoria Arrone, sister of Cpl. Andreozzi.
Remembering a hero :
A handsome, green-eyed Irish Catholic, Cpl. Andreozzi was a serious young man who is described as honest and full of integrity by his brother Ernest.
"Victor was the son everybody wanted. God and county, that was what he was all about." Ernest recalled his brother's love for his sportscar, an MGA Midget Roadster. "When he would come home on leave, even if it was during the winter, he'd take us for rides with the top down. He loved that car," Ernest said.
Louise St. Angelo has similar memories of her big bother and was the driving force behind the bridge dedication. "Our family scattered after Victor died and our mother's death two years later. This is so emotional for me because my brother was such a special person who sacrificed for his family and for his country," Ms. St. Angelo said.
She recalled the time when while climbing trees — another family favorite activity — she fell out and her brother was the first one to help her.
"He was right there and the first one to pick me up to see if I was all right. He was always there for all of us," she said.
On September 21, 1967, the Andreozzi family was forever changed.
Cpl. Andreozzi enlisted in the Marine Corps in 1964 just after he turned 18. During his four years in the service, he traveled the globe with tours in Spain, Italy, France, the Mediterranean and the Caribbean. In the summer of 1967, he was sent to Hawaii to train for deployment in Vietnam. This was an exciting time for the 21-year old rifleman and squad leader. He had just asked his girlfriend Sharon, also a Marine, to marry him and he was happy to go and fight for his country. The couple planned to marry after his return from Vietnam.
He was assigned with the 2nd Battalion, 4th Marine Regiment of the 3rd Marine Division, Fox 2-4, also known as the "Magnificent Bastards."
Cpl. Andreozzi received the Bronze Star, 2 Purple Hearts, National Defense Service Ribbon, Marine Corps Combat Ribbon and the Vietnam Service Ribbon.
When news of his death reached his family in Barrington, there was a feel of disbelief, anger and profound sadness. Gus Morelli, a first cousin, said he didn't believe Victor was killed until he saw his name on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington D.C. in 1986. "I always expected him to come home. He was an empathetic and caring guy. A lot of responsibility was thrust upon him being the oldest. He always took control of the herd and never wavered," Mr. Morelli said after the dedication.
The program at the hour-long ceremony included a speech by guest of honor retired Col. Stephen M. McCartney, USMC. "It is said that when a Marine is killed he (or she) is reporting in to St. Peter to get orders for the next duty station. Cpl. Andreozzi is looking down on us from heaven," he said.
Victor Andreozzi Sr. often wiped tears from his eyes during the program and held the hand of daughter Louise. "My son was a good man and is missed beyond words," he said.
Other family members in attendance included many nieces and nephews cousins and friends. Brothers Jerry and Robert Andreozzi were unable to attend.
Following the ceremony, guests were invited to Ms. St. Angelo's home for refreshments. "Now we can go and celebrate Victor's life and share memories of my brother," she said.
10 August 2007
The Failed Strategy Of 1967
When the Marines landed in Vietnam, they had a plan. In fact, by past experiences, they had developed an entire book on guerilla warfare and pacification of the population. The Marine Corps leadership wanted to establish permanent positions around the densely populated coastal areas: Da Nang, Phu Bi, etc. Having established these areas to provide safe havens for the local population, these areas would gradually be expanded to increase the Marine's area of influence with the local population. By furnishing security and all types of aid to the locals, they could be won over.
There were other reasons for using this strategy. First, it denied access to the local population by the VC. They could not get supplies from these areas, influence the locals with their doctrines, or recruit new members into their ranks. Secondly,the VC or NVA sitting in camps in the mountains were rendered ineffective as a fighting force unless they wanted to attack our well established fortified positions. To make them come to us and fight on our terms, a situation in which they could not win.
Sounds good, so what happened? Enter Gen. Westmoreland. Now, Gen. Westmoreland, the supreme commander of all US forces in Vietnam, had different ideas. Army doctrine was developed during the Cold War and was designed to fight the Soviets in Europe in large scale battles.
The Marine Corps command resisted as far as they could go, but eventually had to adopt Westmoreland's strategy for fighting the VC and NVA in Vietnam. After all, the Army had one page in its manual on guerilla warfare.
The problem for Gen. Westmoreland was, how to draw the NVA out into large scale battles in the area near the DMZ. The tactic of roving battalions was his answer. The roving battalions became the bait to draw the NVA out into the large scale battles that Westmoreland wanted. Once engaged, the NVA could be destroyed by our superior supporting arms: planes, helicopters, tanks, artillery, etc. Gen. Westmoreland believed that if we could kill enough NVA the North Vietnamese would eventually quit. This is known as a war of attrition. This tactic might very well have worked near the DMZ, except for the fact that in early 1967 we allowed the NVA to start using the DMZ as a sanctuary from which to attack us. Once the NVA had artillery: rockets, mortars, and men in the DMZ, everything within a 20 mile arch became a sitting duck. That's why time spent near the DMZ was known as "time in the barrel", as in shooting ducks in a barrel.
By a strange coincidence, a war of attrition was exactly what Gen. Giap, the North Vietnamese commander wanted. He didn't care how many men he lost as long as he could bleed us. Sort of a slow death by a thousand cuts. It was the way he defeated the French and he believed it would work against the Americans. When President Johnson allowed the NVA to use the DMZ while it was off limits to the Marines, he played right into Gen. Giaps hands. The perceived advantage of U.S. supporting arms was negated as soon as the NVA was allowed the use of the DMZ.
Other factors worked against us as well. The weather, especially in the rainy season, kept our aircraft grounded. Tanks and other armoured vehicles could not traverse the terrain. The element of surprise was also on the NVA's side as they had us outnumbered and could choose when and where to make their fight. The area of responsibility of the Marines was too large for us to commit the needed manpower to the DMZ. Add to that the fact that we used a rifle that jammed all the time and could not be depended on and it's a wonder we could hold the line at all.
This is also why we followed unit after unit, fighting, bleeding, and dying over the same ground time after time. In the overall scheme of things it didn't matter as long as we killed more of them than they did of us.
This whole strategy was exposed for the failure that it was when Gen. Ray Davis took charge in early 1968. Bases were closed and moved back beyond the range of the nva's guns and no longer would infantry (roving battalions)
protect fixed installations. Under new leadership and fighting as a true mobile force, five NVA Divisions were destroyed in four months and North Vietnam was asking for a cease-fire.
None of what I have said should be taken as a failure of the men doing the fighting in the "barrel" to do their job. To the contrary, we were never defeated,even though fighting under almost impossible conditions. Anyone who ever spent time in the barrel can be proud of the job they did and the men they served with.
Semper Fi,
Bill Sellers
Golf 2/4 67-68
There were other reasons for using this strategy. First, it denied access to the local population by the VC. They could not get supplies from these areas, influence the locals with their doctrines, or recruit new members into their ranks. Secondly,the VC or NVA sitting in camps in the mountains were rendered ineffective as a fighting force unless they wanted to attack our well established fortified positions. To make them come to us and fight on our terms, a situation in which they could not win.
Sounds good, so what happened? Enter Gen. Westmoreland. Now, Gen. Westmoreland, the supreme commander of all US forces in Vietnam, had different ideas. Army doctrine was developed during the Cold War and was designed to fight the Soviets in Europe in large scale battles.
The Marine Corps command resisted as far as they could go, but eventually had to adopt Westmoreland's strategy for fighting the VC and NVA in Vietnam. After all, the Army had one page in its manual on guerilla warfare.
The problem for Gen. Westmoreland was, how to draw the NVA out into large scale battles in the area near the DMZ. The tactic of roving battalions was his answer. The roving battalions became the bait to draw the NVA out into the large scale battles that Westmoreland wanted. Once engaged, the NVA could be destroyed by our superior supporting arms: planes, helicopters, tanks, artillery, etc. Gen. Westmoreland believed that if we could kill enough NVA the North Vietnamese would eventually quit. This is known as a war of attrition. This tactic might very well have worked near the DMZ, except for the fact that in early 1967 we allowed the NVA to start using the DMZ as a sanctuary from which to attack us. Once the NVA had artillery: rockets, mortars, and men in the DMZ, everything within a 20 mile arch became a sitting duck. That's why time spent near the DMZ was known as "time in the barrel", as in shooting ducks in a barrel.
By a strange coincidence, a war of attrition was exactly what Gen. Giap, the North Vietnamese commander wanted. He didn't care how many men he lost as long as he could bleed us. Sort of a slow death by a thousand cuts. It was the way he defeated the French and he believed it would work against the Americans. When President Johnson allowed the NVA to use the DMZ while it was off limits to the Marines, he played right into Gen. Giaps hands. The perceived advantage of U.S. supporting arms was negated as soon as the NVA was allowed the use of the DMZ.
Other factors worked against us as well. The weather, especially in the rainy season, kept our aircraft grounded. Tanks and other armoured vehicles could not traverse the terrain. The element of surprise was also on the NVA's side as they had us outnumbered and could choose when and where to make their fight. The area of responsibility of the Marines was too large for us to commit the needed manpower to the DMZ. Add to that the fact that we used a rifle that jammed all the time and could not be depended on and it's a wonder we could hold the line at all.
This is also why we followed unit after unit, fighting, bleeding, and dying over the same ground time after time. In the overall scheme of things it didn't matter as long as we killed more of them than they did of us.
This whole strategy was exposed for the failure that it was when Gen. Ray Davis took charge in early 1968. Bases were closed and moved back beyond the range of the nva's guns and no longer would infantry (roving battalions)
protect fixed installations. Under new leadership and fighting as a true mobile force, five NVA Divisions were destroyed in four months and North Vietnam was asking for a cease-fire.
None of what I have said should be taken as a failure of the men doing the fighting in the "barrel" to do their job. To the contrary, we were never defeated,even though fighting under almost impossible conditions. Anyone who ever spent time in the barrel can be proud of the job they did and the men they served with.
Semper Fi,
Bill Sellers
Golf 2/4 67-68
01 August 2007
Dave Hamilton - A Fallen Hero
When Dave Hamilton was killed by on-rushing NVA forces, he was firing his M-60 machine gun. He, and Frank Foster, his gun assistant, never flinched in their duty to protect their section of the 2/4 perimeter. Even while being over-run by a determined enemy, Hamilton kept the rounds flying and the pressure on. Before being killed by an enemy RPG, Hamilton and Foster littered the field in front of his gun with numerous dead NVA soldiers. Undoubtedly giving members of Golf Company time to adjust and react. We'll never know how many Marines he saved by his actions the night of October 13, 1967.
For his courageous act under fire, Dave Hamilton was awarded the Silver Star posthumously. Personally, I think he should have been awarded the MOH, or at least the Navy Cross. And what about Foster? He stayed at his post as well. I don't recall Foster receiving any award. Do you?
I knew Dave, and can still recall his infectious, great big sense of humor. I never saw him in a down mode. Dave kept us laughing and our spirits up, and under those horrible conditions, that meant a lot.
Dave Hamilton will always be my hero.
Do you remember a Marine or Corpsman who fits in to this mold, and served during Operation Kingfisher?
Please write something and we'll get it in our blog.
Semper Fi,
Bob Bliss
For his courageous act under fire, Dave Hamilton was awarded the Silver Star posthumously. Personally, I think he should have been awarded the MOH, or at least the Navy Cross. And what about Foster? He stayed at his post as well. I don't recall Foster receiving any award. Do you?
I knew Dave, and can still recall his infectious, great big sense of humor. I never saw him in a down mode. Dave kept us laughing and our spirits up, and under those horrible conditions, that meant a lot.
Dave Hamilton will always be my hero.
Do you remember a Marine or Corpsman who fits in to this mold, and served during Operation Kingfisher?
Please write something and we'll get it in our blog.
Semper Fi,
Bob Bliss
29 July 2007
Tribute to Kenneth Montone
I am writing this tribute to Sgt. Kenneth Montone to be published in an up- coming book about Operation Kingfisher, in Vietnam, September 21, 1967. The heroism by all the Marines that day would make the toughest of men wither and hide.
One of the six Medal of Honor Recipients of 2nd Battalion 4th Marines on that day was Lance Corporal Jedh Colby Barker, a machine gunner in Fox 2/4 under Sgt Montone's command. Sgt Montone was awarded the Bronze Star with combat V posthumously for going to the aid of several of his men before succumbing to his own wounds.
I first met Kenneth Montone after going through boot camp in San Diego. We were assigned to Advanced Infantry Training at Camp Pendleton, California. I remember he had an Anchor, Globe and Eagle tattoo on his chest (the Marine Corps Emblem). Wow! I thought, "I want one of those." I had already been through college and had a degree in accounting and was the blunt of many jokes by my fellow Marines. I think Ken saw this and came to my aid many times. We worked from daylight to dark most days running the hills around Camp Pendleton. He kept us together day and night as a squad should be. We worked hard and played even harder. I remember the night just before we were to leave for Vietnam, the entire squad met in a tiny bar across the street from the bus station in Ocean Side, California. We all got trashed that night. Little did I know I would spend most of my time in country with these 17 and 18 year old men.
We flew from the California El Toro Air Station to Hawaii, then on to Okinawa. We were in Okinawa several days to store our equipment and doing more training, giving blood, and going on leave in a little town. The cab ride the next morning was the price of admission after an entire night in the town. The Cliffs of over 700 feet on a single lane highway in a cab was a lifetime experience. We were all young and ready for what we thought was a great adventure, besides what could hurt us, we were Marines. I think some of the ones that had been in the Corps a while were a little more cautious. However, we never saw that in Kenneth, he was a Marines Marine. Even if he felt something, we never knew it. I will never forget landing in Da Nang in July. When they opened the doors of the air-conditioned plane, we could feel the nice warn 100-plus degree temperature and humidity. We were in Da Nang for about 3 or 4 days before we were assigned to our units. Kenneth and I were assigned to 2nd Battalion 4th Marines, the Magnificent Bastards, Second to None. Da Nang was a place if you were with any one whom you had gone to boot camp with, chances were that you were separated. We all made new friends that day, however there were a few of us that were assigned to the same units. That day we found out that we were bound for the 2nd Battalion 4th Marines at Camp Evans. I remember riding with Kenneth in a convoy North from Da Nang across so many rice paddies I could not count them. We arrived at this dusty compound called Camp Evans. It was kind of nice there looking back in retrospect; we had hot meals and cots to sleep on, even movies (Combat with Vick Morrow and Rick Jason). We would occasionally take a casualty from mines laid by the local Viet Cong, but nothing on a large scale like where we were going. We were there about 4 months.
We got our orders one day to board the trucks going North. I thought we were already north, at least enough to suit me. Even our Officers and platoon commanders were beginning to wonder where would we be assigned next. Well, from that day to when I left Vietnam, was any thing but pleasant. No more hot meals, C-Rations. No more cots, a poncho and the hard ground. No more movies, the only movies would be ones we may one day show our grandchildren about this place. Life had definitely taken a change for the worse. We were first at Con Thien, a Northern fire base.
On the way there we had a few self-inflicted wounds. The area changed from a dusty camp to dense jungle and the start of the monsoons. It would rain all day and night while we tried to sleep. Mud was everywhere.
It wasn't long until we were sent on our first big operation, called Operation Kingfisher. We were to clear the enemy from around the fire bases, which was no easy task. These guys were there and had dug-in positions, not easy to take when in open country. The morning of September 21st, 1967, the rain stopped. We were on line sweeping through a banana plantation around Con Thien when we were shot at by snipers. Then, as we advanced,we came under heavy machine gun fire so intense it cut down several banana trees and some bamboo. That was my first taste of Vietnamese soil. I could hear people getting killed that day, many of them friends. I was pinned down to the left side of where Kenneth and Jedh Barker was pinned down. We tried to surround them by going to our left and around where the fire was coming from. It seemed like every time we would go left, there was another machine gun. We eventually made it to a ravine where we thought we could make some progress. That is when it went from bad to worse. We were targeted by the enemy with artillery. It seemed like eternity while the rounds fell. The enemy was ordered that day to annihilate us to the last man and it felt like it. We were fighting back but was not able to hold much ground. Eventually, when it seemed like we would never get out, the shelling stopped and we started evacuating our dead and wounded. We were then told to get started back to our compound where we had fox holes dug. I found out later that a superior force of North Vietnamese Army reinforcements had been detached to finish us off. It was almost a month before we were re-supplied and had new troops. We went back and recovered the bodies of our fellow Marines on October 10, 1967.
I still remember Sgt Montone, Jedh Barker, as well as every one else that day. I thought, "That is what real courage is, these men laid down their lives to cover our retreat." I thank God for the Marines that I served with. We truly are the Magnificent Bastards.
Semper Fi,
Robert Mercer
One of the six Medal of Honor Recipients of 2nd Battalion 4th Marines on that day was Lance Corporal Jedh Colby Barker, a machine gunner in Fox 2/4 under Sgt Montone's command. Sgt Montone was awarded the Bronze Star with combat V posthumously for going to the aid of several of his men before succumbing to his own wounds.
I first met Kenneth Montone after going through boot camp in San Diego. We were assigned to Advanced Infantry Training at Camp Pendleton, California. I remember he had an Anchor, Globe and Eagle tattoo on his chest (the Marine Corps Emblem). Wow! I thought, "I want one of those." I had already been through college and had a degree in accounting and was the blunt of many jokes by my fellow Marines. I think Ken saw this and came to my aid many times. We worked from daylight to dark most days running the hills around Camp Pendleton. He kept us together day and night as a squad should be. We worked hard and played even harder. I remember the night just before we were to leave for Vietnam, the entire squad met in a tiny bar across the street from the bus station in Ocean Side, California. We all got trashed that night. Little did I know I would spend most of my time in country with these 17 and 18 year old men.
We flew from the California El Toro Air Station to Hawaii, then on to Okinawa. We were in Okinawa several days to store our equipment and doing more training, giving blood, and going on leave in a little town. The cab ride the next morning was the price of admission after an entire night in the town. The Cliffs of over 700 feet on a single lane highway in a cab was a lifetime experience. We were all young and ready for what we thought was a great adventure, besides what could hurt us, we were Marines. I think some of the ones that had been in the Corps a while were a little more cautious. However, we never saw that in Kenneth, he was a Marines Marine. Even if he felt something, we never knew it. I will never forget landing in Da Nang in July. When they opened the doors of the air-conditioned plane, we could feel the nice warn 100-plus degree temperature and humidity. We were in Da Nang for about 3 or 4 days before we were assigned to our units. Kenneth and I were assigned to 2nd Battalion 4th Marines, the Magnificent Bastards, Second to None. Da Nang was a place if you were with any one whom you had gone to boot camp with, chances were that you were separated. We all made new friends that day, however there were a few of us that were assigned to the same units. That day we found out that we were bound for the 2nd Battalion 4th Marines at Camp Evans. I remember riding with Kenneth in a convoy North from Da Nang across so many rice paddies I could not count them. We arrived at this dusty compound called Camp Evans. It was kind of nice there looking back in retrospect; we had hot meals and cots to sleep on, even movies (Combat with Vick Morrow and Rick Jason). We would occasionally take a casualty from mines laid by the local Viet Cong, but nothing on a large scale like where we were going. We were there about 4 months.
We got our orders one day to board the trucks going North. I thought we were already north, at least enough to suit me. Even our Officers and platoon commanders were beginning to wonder where would we be assigned next. Well, from that day to when I left Vietnam, was any thing but pleasant. No more hot meals, C-Rations. No more cots, a poncho and the hard ground. No more movies, the only movies would be ones we may one day show our grandchildren about this place. Life had definitely taken a change for the worse. We were first at Con Thien, a Northern fire base.
On the way there we had a few self-inflicted wounds. The area changed from a dusty camp to dense jungle and the start of the monsoons. It would rain all day and night while we tried to sleep. Mud was everywhere.
It wasn't long until we were sent on our first big operation, called Operation Kingfisher. We were to clear the enemy from around the fire bases, which was no easy task. These guys were there and had dug-in positions, not easy to take when in open country. The morning of September 21st, 1967, the rain stopped. We were on line sweeping through a banana plantation around Con Thien when we were shot at by snipers. Then, as we advanced,we came under heavy machine gun fire so intense it cut down several banana trees and some bamboo. That was my first taste of Vietnamese soil. I could hear people getting killed that day, many of them friends. I was pinned down to the left side of where Kenneth and Jedh Barker was pinned down. We tried to surround them by going to our left and around where the fire was coming from. It seemed like every time we would go left, there was another machine gun. We eventually made it to a ravine where we thought we could make some progress. That is when it went from bad to worse. We were targeted by the enemy with artillery. It seemed like eternity while the rounds fell. The enemy was ordered that day to annihilate us to the last man and it felt like it. We were fighting back but was not able to hold much ground. Eventually, when it seemed like we would never get out, the shelling stopped and we started evacuating our dead and wounded. We were then told to get started back to our compound where we had fox holes dug. I found out later that a superior force of North Vietnamese Army reinforcements had been detached to finish us off. It was almost a month before we were re-supplied and had new troops. We went back and recovered the bodies of our fellow Marines on October 10, 1967.
I still remember Sgt Montone, Jedh Barker, as well as every one else that day. I thought, "That is what real courage is, these men laid down their lives to cover our retreat." I thank God for the Marines that I served with. We truly are the Magnificent Bastards.
Semper Fi,
Robert Mercer
05 July 2007
Forty Years Later
By: Chris Trollinger – Sister of William Kildare
Forty years ago, on September 28th, 1967, my family received the news that our Bill had been killed in action in Vietnam.
Standing at the distance of time and space, one still muses as to the truth of the whole affair.
Especially given all the secrecy over the deaths they sustained that day of September 21,1967- in Operation Kingfisher.
It seemed like a bad dream at the time, but it was oh so very real. The Marines coming to my parent’s house, and informing them of the death. The official telegram, all neatly delivered according to protocol.
Shortly thereafter, another Marine assigned to burial detail, arrived to help the family through the funeral according to protocol. To the Corp. It was just another day in the life of the Marine Corps. Burying their dead. Dispatching an ordinary Marine to his eternal reward. Directing our family on all the details, they planned the funeral with precision and little emotion…after all, Bill was just another KIA Marine. His funeral would be the 13,500th the various branches of the Military had presided over in the Vietnam War. Before the War in Vietnam would end, that scene would be repeated many times more.
The first thing my father of course did, was to inform them that my younger brother Mike had been reported wounded on August 21st. We still had not received any confirmation as to his condition or whereabouts. The Marine, got on the horn, and got some lowly clerk somewhere, who reported back, rather matter of factly, that Mike had died of his wounds.
And then the cadence of protocol began to un-ravel. My father immediately got on the horn and called his old Marine buddy, from WWII, Brigadier General Louis Wilson, who was legislative assistant to the Commandant of the Marine Corp.
Louis immediately set to work, to locate Mike and found him in a hospital in Okinawa, Japan. As my father suspected, the clerk mixed up our brother’s names and relayed Mike as KIA, without bothering to check further. Arrangements were quickly set in motion to send Mike home for the funeral. He had been burned in the explosion, which hit the convoy he was in, but the burns were almost healed. He was scheduled for R & R.
This was not the first time we had dealt with this. The previous February, the Marines had sent a telegram to my parents, informing us Mike had been wounded. Then within days, the Marines arrived on our doorstep to inform us Mike had died. Somehow they were having trouble locating the body though. Dad had called Louis then also, and within a day’s time, Mike called to inform us he had been slightly wounded and was fine. He would be reporting back to duty shortly. That was the day, my brother Bill, determined he would re-join the Marines as soon as he finished the semester at Texas A & M. His intention was to have Mike ask for duty out of the combat zone, using the Sullivan Rule, which allows a family to request that only one son, serve in the combat zone at a time. Mike of course did not agree. Bill then decided that he would stand and fight with Mike. He wanted to watch out for Mike somehow, just as he had always done when we were children.
With Mike located and on the way home, the normal protocol was back in orbit…or so the Marines thought. But, my Mother would now throw a problem in their lap, which would unravel the neat protocol once again. My Mother wanted to make sure that the body coming in on the train, was really our Bill. She wanted him positively identified, and Dad demanded to see that our Bill was dressed properly in his Marine Blues.
It seemed like an ordinary request at the time. Who could blame them, as we had endured so many mistakes about identification thus far.
The next thing we knew, our lowly honor guard was replaced with higher up Brass from Denver. Suddenly, the ordinary KIA Marine burial became something that required more clout to keep Protocol on track. They neatly arrived with a personal letter from LBJ of condolence on our loss. Of course, they tried to present it as the Commandants request to honor our family of Marines in a special way. Obviously, they never met a family of Irish Marines before…and so the battle began.
Back and forth the negotiations flew. They insisted the body was in such bad condition, that it could not be viewed. Dad got on the horn to Louis once more, and obtained the autopsy reports in short order. It confirmed that Bill could be identified, still, even though the body had suffered some decomposition from being left in the field for sometime. His face was still intact, and the wounds he received were the loss of both hands and a stomach wound. The report stated that the wounds were the result of his weapon and ammo exploding from hot shrapnel.
When that ploy didn’t work, they set about trying to convince us to just quietly accept that all was well; our Bill was definitely in the casket. We stood our ground, and they finally agreed to allow my Uncle Jack, to ID the remains. Uncle Jack had served at Pearl Harbor and his job there had been body retrieval after the Pearl Harbor attack. Thus, the funeral for another Marine KIA, was accomplished. But to this very day, the question lingers…”Why so much secrecy?” Were they trying to cover up the poor quality of weapons our boy’s were forced to use? I suppose we will never know for certain one way or the other, but it does make one wonder. Why all the secrecy?
Forty years ago, on September 28th, 1967, my family received the news that our Bill had been killed in action in Vietnam.
Standing at the distance of time and space, one still muses as to the truth of the whole affair.
Especially given all the secrecy over the deaths they sustained that day of September 21,1967- in Operation Kingfisher.
It seemed like a bad dream at the time, but it was oh so very real. The Marines coming to my parent’s house, and informing them of the death. The official telegram, all neatly delivered according to protocol.
Shortly thereafter, another Marine assigned to burial detail, arrived to help the family through the funeral according to protocol. To the Corp. It was just another day in the life of the Marine Corps. Burying their dead. Dispatching an ordinary Marine to his eternal reward. Directing our family on all the details, they planned the funeral with precision and little emotion…after all, Bill was just another KIA Marine. His funeral would be the 13,500th the various branches of the Military had presided over in the Vietnam War. Before the War in Vietnam would end, that scene would be repeated many times more.
The first thing my father of course did, was to inform them that my younger brother Mike had been reported wounded on August 21st. We still had not received any confirmation as to his condition or whereabouts. The Marine, got on the horn, and got some lowly clerk somewhere, who reported back, rather matter of factly, that Mike had died of his wounds.
And then the cadence of protocol began to un-ravel. My father immediately got on the horn and called his old Marine buddy, from WWII, Brigadier General Louis Wilson, who was legislative assistant to the Commandant of the Marine Corp.
Louis immediately set to work, to locate Mike and found him in a hospital in Okinawa, Japan. As my father suspected, the clerk mixed up our brother’s names and relayed Mike as KIA, without bothering to check further. Arrangements were quickly set in motion to send Mike home for the funeral. He had been burned in the explosion, which hit the convoy he was in, but the burns were almost healed. He was scheduled for R & R.
This was not the first time we had dealt with this. The previous February, the Marines had sent a telegram to my parents, informing us Mike had been wounded. Then within days, the Marines arrived on our doorstep to inform us Mike had died. Somehow they were having trouble locating the body though. Dad had called Louis then also, and within a day’s time, Mike called to inform us he had been slightly wounded and was fine. He would be reporting back to duty shortly. That was the day, my brother Bill, determined he would re-join the Marines as soon as he finished the semester at Texas A & M. His intention was to have Mike ask for duty out of the combat zone, using the Sullivan Rule, which allows a family to request that only one son, serve in the combat zone at a time. Mike of course did not agree. Bill then decided that he would stand and fight with Mike. He wanted to watch out for Mike somehow, just as he had always done when we were children.
With Mike located and on the way home, the normal protocol was back in orbit…or so the Marines thought. But, my Mother would now throw a problem in their lap, which would unravel the neat protocol once again. My Mother wanted to make sure that the body coming in on the train, was really our Bill. She wanted him positively identified, and Dad demanded to see that our Bill was dressed properly in his Marine Blues.
It seemed like an ordinary request at the time. Who could blame them, as we had endured so many mistakes about identification thus far.
The next thing we knew, our lowly honor guard was replaced with higher up Brass from Denver. Suddenly, the ordinary KIA Marine burial became something that required more clout to keep Protocol on track. They neatly arrived with a personal letter from LBJ of condolence on our loss. Of course, they tried to present it as the Commandants request to honor our family of Marines in a special way. Obviously, they never met a family of Irish Marines before…and so the battle began.
Back and forth the negotiations flew. They insisted the body was in such bad condition, that it could not be viewed. Dad got on the horn to Louis once more, and obtained the autopsy reports in short order. It confirmed that Bill could be identified, still, even though the body had suffered some decomposition from being left in the field for sometime. His face was still intact, and the wounds he received were the loss of both hands and a stomach wound. The report stated that the wounds were the result of his weapon and ammo exploding from hot shrapnel.
When that ploy didn’t work, they set about trying to convince us to just quietly accept that all was well; our Bill was definitely in the casket. We stood our ground, and they finally agreed to allow my Uncle Jack, to ID the remains. Uncle Jack had served at Pearl Harbor and his job there had been body retrieval after the Pearl Harbor attack. Thus, the funeral for another Marine KIA, was accomplished. But to this very day, the question lingers…”Why so much secrecy?” Were they trying to cover up the poor quality of weapons our boy’s were forced to use? I suppose we will never know for certain one way or the other, but it does make one wonder. Why all the secrecy?
Faces In The Wall
By: Christine Trollinger
In Memory of:
2/4 Casualties 9/21/67
When you approach the Wall, can you tell me what you see?
In Memory of:
2/4 Casualties 9/21/67
When you approach the Wall, can you tell me what you see?
Do you see balance and beauty laid out in perfect harmony?
Perhaps this is all the merely curious ever really see.
Some come to the Wall looking for just one precious name.
Some come to the Wall looking for just one precious name.
Maybe it is a brother, father, child or a friend.
The heart, which knows this name, must see a face, a place and a sad time in our nations history.
Some come to the Wall at the break of dawn with two or more names written upon their heart. They see more than names etched in granite stone. They must surely travel back in time and in memory to a place where they can see the faces of those who were so much a part of the fabric of their lives. Brothers and friends whose loss changed the color of their lives.
For all the hearts that have been broken in the aftermath of War, for all the words unspoken to those they still adore…”May Christ’s Peace” be with them and may they come to understand:
“They lived and died for all of us, and have risen from this…”Their Calvary.” The veil, which now divides us, is only for a little while.
They died that we might complete our own special mission living out our lives with dignity, honor, grace and even joy. And once our Mission is accomplished, we shall see them once again. Let us not cry for those who are gone, for they have fulfilled their Mission with utmost grace. Rather let us rejoice that we stand to testify to the worth of their sacrifices…until we meet again.
Some come to the Wall at the break of dawn with two or more names written upon their heart. They see more than names etched in granite stone. They must surely travel back in time and in memory to a place where they can see the faces of those who were so much a part of the fabric of their lives. Brothers and friends whose loss changed the color of their lives.
For all the hearts that have been broken in the aftermath of War, for all the words unspoken to those they still adore…”May Christ’s Peace” be with them and may they come to understand:
“They lived and died for all of us, and have risen from this…”Their Calvary.” The veil, which now divides us, is only for a little while.
They died that we might complete our own special mission living out our lives with dignity, honor, grace and even joy. And once our Mission is accomplished, we shall see them once again. Let us not cry for those who are gone, for they have fulfilled their Mission with utmost grace. Rather let us rejoice that we stand to testify to the worth of their sacrifices…until we meet again.
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