Memorial Day

[omahaman2]

Remeber the real reason for Memorial Day in the U.S.

Commentary: Stop to salute on Memorial Day

By Capt. John Rasmussen

EAGLE BASE, Bosnia and Herzegovina (Army News Service, May 22, 2002) -- It was raining "cats and dogs" and I was late for physical training. Traffic was backed up at Fort Campbell, Ky., and was moving way too slowly. I was probably going to be late and I was growing more and more impatient.

The pace slowed almost to a standstill as I passed Memorial Grove, the site built to honor the soldiers who died in the Gander airplane crash, the worst redeployment accident in the history of the 101st Airborne Division (Air Assault).

Because it was close to Memorial Day, a small American flag had been placed in the ground next to each soldier's memorial plaque. My concern at the time, however, was getting past the bottleneck, getting out of the rain and getting to PT on time.

All of a sudden, infuriatingly, just as the traffic was getting started again, the car in front of me stopped. A soldier, a private of course, jumped out in the pouring rain and ran over toward the grove.

I couldn't believe it! This knucklehead was holding up everyone for who knows what kind of prank. Horns were honking. I waited to see the butt-chewing that I wanted him to get for making me late.

He was getting soaked to the skin. His BDUs were plastered to his frame. I watched-as he ran up to one of the memorial plaques, picked up the small American flag that had fallen to the ground in the wind and the rain, and set it upright again.

Then, slowly, he came to attention, saluted, ran back to his car, and drove off.

I'll never forget that incident. That soldier, whose name I will never know, taught me more about duty, honor, and respect than a hundred books or a thousand lectures.

That simple salute -- that single act of honoring his fallen brother and his flag -- encapsulated all the Army values in one gesture for me. It said, "I will never forget. I will keep the faith. I will finish the mission. I am an American soldier."

I thank God for examples like that.

And on this Memorial Day, I will remember all those who paid the ultimate price for my freedom, and one private, soaked to the skin, who honored them.


http://www.ratatak.com/scribblerz/pictures/75.png

 

[omahaman2]

Memorial Day is much more than a three-day weekend that marks the beginning of summer. To many people, especially the nation's thousands of combat veterans, this day, which has a history stretching back all the way to the Civil War, is an important reminder of those who died in the service of their country
http://www.historychannel.com/exhibits/memorial/images/pic_grave.gif

 

[tonitits]

Those are both very beautiful. Thanks Oman. I was telling Daniel that yesterday, partly kidding, he was all excited about getting out of school, having a holiday and start of summer and I said what holiday? Knowing full well what holiday he was talking about. He said Memorial Day! I asked him what it was and why did we "celebrate" it. He gave me a pretty good answer, but then I explained to him that that is a day to remember all the soldiers that have died trying to defend our freedom and our country. I think every now and then we need something like this to kick us in the pants and make us slow down and remember what it is all about. My hats off to all the soldiers and their families. Thanks you so much.

 

[omahaman2]

Your silent tents of green
We deck with fragrant flowers;
Yours has the suffering been,
The memory shall be ours.

 

[Icey*Fire]

http://www.tcastle.com/images/n130/memorial_flag_cross_lg_wht.gif

Memorial Day is the day
we remember and honor
those who lost their lives
fighting for our nation.


~ Eulogy for a Veteran ~

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the Gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the mornings hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush.

of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.

 

[Icey*Fire]

The Tomb for the Unknown Soldier

It is something that has touched my heart for many years. The saddness the melancholy that overshadows it, and the complete reverance the guards show in the steadfast endurance to guard the tomb 24/7.

Many tears have I shed for these 'Unknown Men of Honor Known But To God."

http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/tus-Poster.jpg
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Sentinels Creed
My dedication to this sacred duty is total and wholehearted.
In the responsibility bestowed on me never will I falter.
And with dignity and perseverance my standard will remain perfection.
Through the years of diligence and praise and the discomfort of the elements,
I will walk my tour in humble reverence to the best of my ability.
It is he who commands the respect I protect.
His bravery that made us so proud.
Surrounded by well meaning crowds by day alone in the thoughtful peace of night,
this soldier will in honored glory rest under my eternal vigilance.

http://www.homeofheroes.com/gravesites/unknowns/anc_unknowns.jpg

 

[~Dream~]

My grandfather was retired Air Force Seargeant,My dad was In the Army,My ex-husband Navy personellman,My 26 yr-old- has recently Joined the Air Force..I cant help but think of all our guys STILL..In Iraq...

Bible, Isaiah
They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruninghooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.
( cant wait till the ABOVE is true)

"To live in the hearts of those you leave behind is never to die"
~Robert Orr~

Memorial Day National Moment of Remembrance at 3PM.
"On May 31st, 2004, pause at 3:00pm local time for a minute of
respectful silence for those who have died in the service of our
nation. During that minute, television and radio stations throughout
America will air simultaneously a 60-second spot which includes
"Taps". Turn on your radio or television to join your fellow
Americans in putting Memorial back in Memorial Day."
Visit the organizers: No Greater Love Web Page
http://www.ngl.org/


May God Protect them all

Our house is not a home anymore,
since you left to go to war
I miss your voice, your touch, your smile
and oh so very much more.

Today I had a visit from a soldier back from war.
I knew the moment that I heard, the knock upon the door
that you would not return to me,
no never, any more.

Now how do I go on with life
my heart has stopped, I can not breathe
my ears can't hear your voice and fear is constantly near.
Without you now my love, my heart is full of fear.

The shock and pain are slowly, trying to subside
for I know the Lord will comfort me, each and every time
I bring my needs before Him, with a prayer upon my lips.
For He is my fortress and the rock from whom I'll never hide.

The Bible promises comfort
to every one who mourns,
for the Lord will wipe away my tears
and bring me back some joy.

I never will forget you dear,
You will always be in my heart
but for now the Lord has chosen
in His divine wisdom that we must be apart.

I know that we will meet again, remember that my dear
for time is not the same in heaven, so you need not fear.
A day is as a thousand years and as long this is true
our next meeting will seem as though it's only been an hour, a day, or two.

---Written by Annie 1998---

"...from these honored dead, we take increased devotion to that cause for
which they here gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here
highly resolve these dead shall not have died in vain...
~Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg Address~

 

[babycake190]

A country with a trust now forsaken
By an attack on our great land.
But they forgot about our pledge,
"One Nation Under God" is how we standhttp://media.euniverse.com/funpages/cms_content/2892/4thjulybouquetblnk1.gif

 

[JennyOmanHill]

Remembering

My cousin and the too many others lost in Viet Nam.

http://www.co.oakland.mi.us/veterans/assets/images/vietnam_memorial.jpg

 

[omahaman2]

On Memorial Day, Americans place flags on military graves, walk past a wall of black granite in Washington, DC, and many families think of a face and voice they miss so much. Today we honor the men and women who have worn the Nation's uniform and were last seen on duty. From the battles of Iraq and Afghanistan to the conflicts in Korea and Vietnam to the trials of World War to the struggles that made us a nation, today we recall that liberty is always the achievement of courage.

And today we remember all who have died, all who are still missing, and all who mourn. And on this day, especially, our Nation is grateful to the brave and fallen defenders of freedom. In every generation of Americans, we have found courage equal to the tasks of our country. The farms and small towns and city streets of this land have always produced free citizens who assume the discipline and duty of military life. And time after time, they have proven that the moral force of democracy is mightier than the will and cunning of any tyrant.

 

[JennyOmanHill]

A special remembrance

U.S.S. Cole

http://www.iamaw.org/publications/summer2002journal/uss_cole.jpg

 

[69forever]

Lest we forget...

http://ojc.org/images/brotherb.jpg

The ones left behind because they were someplace on the map of South East Asia where our politicians lied to us about not being. Young men who paid the ultimate price for lies and greed.

I still wear my bracelet...Sgt William A. Evans USA 3-2-69 Cambodia. His remains were never returned, his family never given closure. I will pay a visit to the cemetary at the VA, to remember and pay my respects to those who have gone before me.

http://ojc.org/images/POWMIA2.jpg

Peace...

 

[Icey*Fire]

http://www.homeofheroes.com/moh/cemeteries/1_in_memory.gif

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We are the Dead, Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

by John McCrae

http://www.homeofheroes.com/moh/memory/crosses_poppies.gif

 

[JennyOmanHill]

Remembering

A special tribute to the Korean War veterans, located right off the boardwalk, in the midst of the casinos, in Atlantic City, New Jersey.

http://www.worldfromtheweb.com/Parks/AtlanticCity/sP3190435.jpg

 

[JennyOmanHill]

My grandfather was a veteran of WWI, and taught me to honor this holiday. Remembering buying a poppy to wear each year on Veteran's Day. Thinking it's also appropriate this holiday as well.

In honor of the VFWs:

http://www.tfn.net/~pinejac/images/poppy.gif

This is a holiday to remember those men and women who decided to stand up and fight for their ideals. It's also the day to remember those who died fighting for their government's ideals, whether they agreed with them or not. We may not like the decisions that our government has made, but we must never allow that to affect the respect we should give to those people.

 

[someplace]

http://www.abmc.gov/su6.jpg

The American Battle Monuments Commission administers, operates, and maintains twenty-four permanent American burial grounds on foreign soil. Presently there are 124,917 U.S. War Dead interred at these cemeteries, 30,922 of World War I, 93,245 of World War II and 750 of the Mexican War. Additionally 6,010 American veterans and others are interred in the Mexico City and Corozal American Cemeteries.

Click here for more information

 

[someplace]

Lost Boats

Sailing aboard submarines is a hazardous business. They operate in a hostile environment and do constant battle with the sea. On occasion, the sea wins. Sometimes all the crew dies, sometimes there are survivors. Sixty-five submarines built for the United States Navy have been lost during their service -- more than ten percent of the total number of submarines we built. Many were lost during declared wartime when the sea is not the only enemy and sailing in harm's way is a way of life. Others were lost when the sea was the only declared enemy but the hazards of maintaining peace required the submarines be put to sea.

http://subnet.com/images/boats/219.jpg
USS AMBERJACK (SS-219)
Lost 16 February 1943

Shipmates on Eternal Patrol in USS AMBERJACK (SS-219):
Mervin W. Allmon, MoMM1 / William A. Baker, Jr., RM3 / Paul S. Banister, MoMM2 / Luther V. Barr, F1 / Renato Bartoli, S1 / Arthur C. Beeman, PhMC / R.P. Blauvelt, LT / John A. Bole, Lcdr (CO) / John F. Bolze, FC1 / Harold J. Brant, SC2 / Henry E. Brossy, Lcdr (XO) / Maurice J. Brousseau, S2 / Wilson N. Buchan, EM1 / Diego Cacciato, TM3 / Leland J.D. Caldwell, S2 / Elmer E. Chaffin, F2 / John F. Cheney, LT / Raymond J. Chrzan, TM3 / Benjamin L. Clark, TM1 / James L. Coleman, GM2 / William E. Coultas, MoMM2 / Edward S. Davis, S1 / LeRoy C. Davis, EM3 / James DeGroot, F2 / A.M. Demler, ENS / Donald Ducharme, QM3 / Alton G.H. Eastman, TM2 / Ernest J. Everett, RT1 / George H. Gillard, S2 / Thaddeus Gosciniak, MoMM2 / John W. Hamilton, MoMM2 / Lloyd G. Henderson, EM2 / Don L. Hiatt, EM3 / William M.O. Hill, F2 / Vernon T. Jackson, MoMM2 / Homer E. James, EM2 / William L. Jeter, SM3 / Thomas E. Jewell, SMC / Francis P. Kingston, MoMM2 / Victor J. Koreyva, MoMM1 / Robert L. Lester, S2 / Raymond A. Levesque, EM2 / James E. Lewellyn, ENS / H.S. Lord, LTjg / Joseph B. Lucas, Jr., MoMM2 / Marvin R. Macy, RM2 / Arthur R. Massey, MA2 / Ray McDaniel, S1 / Robert A. McLean, TM1 / Wallace Montague, MA1 / Charles R. Muir, TMC / Harold B. Ogilvie, TM2 / Cleveland M. Ouzts, MoMM1 / Bruce F. Pavlin, EM2 / Henry Pisarski, F1 / James A. Ranger, RM2 / John G. Rakyta, S1 / Chester L. Runkowski, TM3 / Lewis R. Ryall, MoMM1 / Coy K. Sallee, SC1 / Daniel R. Seidell, ENS / Paul P. Smorol, F2 / Elwood R. Speirer, S1 / Chester A. Springsteen, S1 / Francis T. St. John, YN1 / Richard G. Stern, LTjg / Henry A. Taylor, TM2 / Irby H. Thurman, F1 / William J. Tobin, EM2 / Paul B. Trask, TM2 / John H. Ullstrom, S2 / Alonzo G. Ward, EM3 / Eldon I. Wilson, F3 / Henry C.A. Winquist, MoMMC .... "Sailors, Rest Your Oars!"

This list is for information, so we don't forget -- sailing aboard submarines is a hazardous business.

 

[someplace]

History of Sacrifice

Numbers of Americans Killed/Wounded, by Action

 

[Raindear816]

As Americans pass this sacred holy day almost without notice except for the silent waving flags, it may kindle the question as to what the symbolism is behind in this rememberance of our citizen soldiers who gave the ultimate sacrifice to responsible liberty.

When an American soldier is laid to rest in the scarred ground now void of the life of grass in the open wound of our earth, a military honor gaurd will in drill place the casket upon the grave and fire a 21 gun salute.

The origin of the 21 gun salute is simple and sacred. America announced it's revolution in the year of 1776 and those numbers when added....create the number 21.
That salute is the final honor of a grateful nation to her sons and daughters for the preservation of liberty with their lives in that sacred year.

The flags which you see flying above the graves in the cemetaries are the burial shroud of that soldier's casket who gave all for their nation.
The honor gaurd when removing the flag for presentation to the family will fold it exactly 13 times.....with each fold representing a part of America.

The first fold of the Stars and Stripes is the symbol of life.

The second fold is the symbol of our belief in eternal life.

The third fold is made in honor and remembrance of the veterans departing this life who gave a portion of their lives for the defense of our country to attain peace throughout the world.

The fourth fold represents our weaker nature, for as American citizens trusting in God, it is to Him we turn in times of peace as well as in time of war for His divine guidance.

The fifth fold is a tribute to our country, for in the words of Stephen Decatur, "Our Country, in dealing with other countries, may she always be right; but it is still our country, right or wrong."

The sixth fold is for where our hearts lie. It is with our heart that we pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States Of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for all.

The seventh fold is a tribute to our Armed Forces, for it is through the Armed Forces that we protect our country and our flag against all her enemies, whether they be found within or without the boundaries of our republic.

The eighth fold is a tribute to the one who entered into the valley of the shadow of death, that we might see the light of day, and to honor mother, for whom it flies on Mother's Day.

The ninth fold is a tribute to womanhood; for it has been through their faith, their love, loyalty and devotion that the character of the men and women who have made this country great has been molded.

The tenth fold is a tribute to the father, for he, too, has given his sons and daughters for the defense of our country since they were first born.

The eleventh fold, in the eyes of a Hebrew citizen represents the lower portion of the seal of King David and King Solomon, and glorifies in their eyes, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

The twelfth fold, in the eyes of a Christian citizen, represents an emblem of eternity and glorifies, in their eyes, God the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit.

The last and most important fold is when the flag is completely folded, the stars are uppermost reminding us of our nation's motto, "In God We Trust".

When the flag is completely folded into a triangle and the end tucked in, it takes on the appearance of a cocked hat, always a reminder of the soldiers who served under General George Washington, and the Sailors and Marines who served under Captain John Paul Jones, who were followed by their comrades and shipmates in the Armed Forces of the United States, preserving for us the rights, privileges and freedoms we enjoy today.

The Stars and Stripes are then presented to the widow or family of the soldier as a reminder that a united people begun in 13 colonies in symbol by 13 stripes and now standing in 50 free states by the 50 stars honors this citizen with all due respect of this ultimate gift for freedom.

Remember this with all the due respect, as you pass by the flags this Memorial Day. Each flag represents an American and each flag represents your gratitude for Americans who served, suffered and died for you.

"Is anybody there? Does anybody care? Does anyone see what I see?"

— General George Washington, 1776


God bless America!

 

[JennyOmanHill]

There is so much history to learn

...
When an American soldier is laid to rest in the scarred ground now void of the life of grass in the open wound of our earth, a military honor gaurd will in drill place the casket upon the grave and fire a 21 gun salute.

The origin of the 21 gun salute is simple and sacred. America announced it's revolution in the year of 1776 and those numbers when added....create the number 21.
That salute is the final honor of a grateful nation to her sons and daughters for the preservation of liberty with their lives in that sacred year.

...

God bless America!

I just saw a report on television tonight regarding the tombs of the unknown soldiers in D.C. The 24/7 guard duty implements 21 paces, then turns and waits 21 seconds until they continue walking in the opposite direction.

The Vietnam "wall" in NYC
http://www.regp.com/rvnhome/rvnimage/nycwall6.jpg

This memorial went up in the "backyard" of the building I worked in for many years back in NYC. It looks pretty lit up at night, but is not too impressive in the day hours. That is until you walk up to it and read within the glass segments of letters sent from our soliders serving in Vietnam.

Remembering

 

[JennyOmanHill]

Remembering

http://www.readio.com/archives/0202/05/img23.gif

One of my lasting images upon leaving New York City was of the fireman's memorial. It was parked a block away from my apartment, and allowed many NYers to pause and remember those heros that were lost on 9/11.

I am also remembering our Broadway theatre district fire station. They were one of the first to respond that fateful day. They lost half their crew, and an engine. Even through their personal grief, those men continued to give guidance and hope to those of us who struggled to get back to our daily lives.

Thank you.

 

[69forever]

http://grunt.space.swri.edu/images/wallmed.jpg

 

[69forever]

http://grunt.space.swri.edu/images/vn/billm/powflag.gif

 

[69forever]

http://grunt.space.swri.edu/images/vn/mike/michrod.gif

Death of the Innocent

By Michael W. Rodriguez
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They shall not grow old as/We that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them,/Nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun/And in the morning we/Will remember them. -- Lawrence Binyon.

War Memorial, Barre, Vermont


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The moon hangs heavy in the night's sky over the Marines of First Platoon, Hotel Company, Second Battalion, First Marine Regiment. One squad mans the old French bunker on the west side of the Phong Le bridge; the other two squads and the platoon CP are on the east, or Da Nang side, of the bridge.

The platoon commander, a corpsman, and platoon radioman make up the command post, and are quartered in one of the three wooden hooches on the Danang side. Concertina wire defines the perimeter, separating the company's Marines from a small Vietnamese ville. The villagers keep to themselves and, aside from the occasional Medcap, the Marines leave them alone.

Two men walk sentry duty on the bridge; one man is on guard on top of the bunker (where his comrades sleep every night); and four more man two positions on the C.P. side of the river. The Bridge is considered easy duty, a "skate." Bridge duty is their reward for spending weeks at a time in the Bush. Regimental headquarters is not too far away, and the rest of the company is divided between one platoon at the Island and the other platoon in reserve at Regiment.

What the Grunts of First Platoon do not know, or were not told, is that the next day national elections are to be held in South Vietnam. If they do not know it, the North Vietnamese do. In the late-night, early morning hours of 29-30 August, 1967, sappers, the highly trained demolitions experts from the north country, slide into the south and, to intimidate the villagers, assault and destroy almost every bridge held by Americans in I, II and III Corps, MACV.

In the firefight that rages that morning at the Phong Le bridge, Hotel 2/1 has their bridge blown out from under them. The 1st Platoon, Hotel Company, 42 men and their lieutenant, suffer serious casualties, some dead and many wounded. Among the dead is Hospital Mate Third Class (HM3) George Francis Gallagher, from Barre, Vermont. Known simply as Doc, Gallagher was 21 years old.



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George Francis "Doc" Gallagher was born and raised in Barre, Vermont, in the shadow of the Green Mountains. He attended the local high school. He had a mother and father, a brother and four sisters. His family was not well-to-do; but what they lacked in social standing, they more than made up in family love. Doc Gallagher joined the United States Navy to further his education, to see the world, to make a difference. He volunteered for the Navy's Corps School, there to learn how to be a Corpsman to the United States Marines.
Slightly built, all of 120 pounds on a slight frame, a perpetual grin on his face and a shock of blonde hair on his head, Gallagher was almost fearless in a firefight. His first duty was always to the men of the rifle platoon to which he was assigned. He planned, although barely into his tour of duty in Vietnam, to extend that tour of duty another six months. He had, he told his platoon commander, found a home with the Navy and Hotel Company.

The summer of 1967 found the Marines of Hotel 2/1 in constant combat with the local VC and only occasionally with soldiers of the North Vietnamese Army. Patrols, ambushes, and firefights took their toll of the rifle squads working The Badlands, as the area south and west of Da Nang was known. Death lurked behind every tree line, around every curve of the East-West Trail, and in every rice paddy.

BOOM!

The mine is tripped by the point man and knocks him down. Another man goes down with him. The platoon goes to ground and faces outboard, ready to engage the enemy if the mine is the trigger of an ambush. Many things happen at once. Squad leaders move among their people, laying out possible fields of fire. The platoon commander, deadly calm, calls the radioman to him, tells him to call for a medevac. The platoon sergeant directs the men at the rear of the column to keep their eyeballs fixed firmly outboard.

Grunts lay flat on the deck, watching the treelines on their flanks. One Grunt hears running footsteps, coming up fast behind him. He sees Doc Gallagher running toward the source of the explosion and, without thinking, swings his M-16 in a wide swath, knocking Gallagher to the deck.

Gallagher scrambles to his feet, his forward momentum barely slowed. Shit!, thinks the Grunt, scrambling to his feet, running after Gallagher, prepared to cover his corpsman. Gallagher reaches the men injured by the blast.

What he sees is bad. Judging by the damage to the two men and the hole in the ground, a mortar round was used as the mine. The point man is badly hurt, but the second man, the platoon's other corpsman, is grievously wounded. Gallagher sees his legs are ripped open to the groin. Through his immense pain, Doc Cochran sees Gallagher. Cochran's pallor is sickly-white, and he is desperately trying to fight off the shock trying to take control of his system.

I am, he tells Gallagher, all fucked up. My legs are gone, Cochran says to Gallagher. I am all fucked up.

Easy, man, says Gallagher. I got you.

The Grunts of Hotel Company's First Platoon fan out, and a perimeter is quickly established. The platoon commander has called for a medevac; the radioman, a friend to both corpsmen, is talking to the chopper pilot, now airborne.

As Grunts tend to the point man, Gallagher ties off the wounds to Cochran's legs. Cochran is right in his initial assessment: His legs are all fucked up. Gallagher works quickly, efficiently, his entire being centered on Cochran's life.

You're going to have to take my legs, Doc, says Cochran to Gallagher.

I got you, man, says Gallagher. I got you.

You don't take 'em, I die.

I got you, man, says Gallagher. I got you.

Oh, fuck, says Cochran. I hurt so fucken bad.

I got you, man, says Gallagher. I got you. Gallagher works furiously. Using safety pins pulled from ammo bandoliers, Doc pins together Cochran's wounds. He packs them, ever mindful of the shock to Cochran's system.

I got you, man, says Gallagher, steadily, insistently. I got you.

On me, says the radioman, quietly, urgently. On me. Popping smoke now. Say again. Popping smoke now. Medevac now. Say again. Medevac now.

Roger that, says the chopper pilot. See your smoke See your smoke. Coming in now. Say again. Coming in now.

The chopper, a lumbering UH-34, swings in low, the door gunner locked and loaded. Marines gather their wounded and rush them, load them gently onto the medevac. The chopper pulls away. Gallagher stares after them, clearly worried about Cochran.

The point man will live, although he loses a leg to the mine. Cochran will also live, but will endure years of medical operations, rehabilitation and endless pain.

The platoon, having swept the surrounding countryside and ensured it is clear of bad guys, continues its patrol. Days, weeks later, the Word comes from Company: First Platoon is pulled from the Bush and reassigned to bridge duty: The Phong Le bridge. When the bridge is blown, Doc Gallagher is dead.

The Grunts of Hotel Company mourn their losses. They pay tribute to the man, the one above all others, who meant so much to them. They take up a collection and arrange to have flowers sent to the family of Doc Gallagher.

Hotel 2/1 left Vietnam three and a half years later, after service in the Hai Lang Forest, The Badlands, Con Thien and Yankee Station, after the DMZ and Tet, after Go Noi Island and The Mudflats, after the endless battles and fights for possession of nameless hills and forests. Doc Gallagher lives on. In the hearts and souls of the men who knew him, he lives on. Of the many Navy Corpsmen who served with Hotel Company's Marines: Johnson, Cochran, Stewart, Ross and the rest, the very best that ever served with Marines, Doc Gallagher was the model.

The story ended here, in 1967. In 1984, a survivor of Hotel's service, himself badly wounded and missing a leg, called to invite me to a reunion; Hotel Company's First Platoon was meeting in Washington, DC, he said, in time for the dedication of the statue of the Three Fighting Men. Hughes, I said. Remember that little corpsman we had, the summer of '67? The blonde-haired kid? Gallagher? What was his name? His first name? Hughes paused, then said, Gallagher. His name was George Gallagher. George Gallagher...

I attend the November, 1984, reunion of Hotel Company's now-old Grunts. We swap lies and war stories about our days in The Nam. We drink beer by the case. We mourn our losses and miss the guys we know who have gone on ahead. Tomorrow, we know, is the dedication was of the statue.

Don't need no fucken statue, says one of us, turning to the rest. Who's been to the Wall, besides me?, he asks. We look around at each other. No one.

You'll see, he says. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, we go to the Wall. You'll see. Don't need no fucken statue. We got the Wall, he says. The Wall.

We attend the dedication ceremony of the statue, the Three Fighting Men. We watch enthralled, shivers running up and down our spines, as a flight of Hueys passes over us. Damn, we think. Damn.

Okay, says Hughes to the 10 or 15 men present. Time to go pay our respects. We begin our journey, coming at the Wall from the East. We approach slowly, cautiously, for we have heard the stories of what happens to guys like us who come face to face with our people, those we lost so long ago. My God, I think. I had no idea this thing was do damn big. Jesus God; all those names. I need help; never find all my people fumbling around like this.

A kid, a young woman approaches me, Excuse me, sir. Do you need some help? I fumble for the words. I had no idea... Yeah, I say. I'm looking for a friend of mine. Panel 25E, Line 62.

I am here. I cannot believe I am here, when so many are not; when he is not. I stare at the name for what seems like forever. My hand comes up of its own volition. The black granite is warm in my hand. Gently, I trace the name of the man who meant so much to so many people...

I trace the name with the tips of my fingers. I feel the edges of each letter of his name. I suddenly feel overwhelmed by his presence, and the presence of so many others, some of whom I can put faces to, others I can only remember by nickname.
Tears begin to well in my eyes. I have to step back. I need some space between me and this thing, this Wall.

I back up, cross the rope the national Park Service has put up to keep us in some semblance of order. I retreat up the slight knoll and sit, hunker down. I light a cigarette. What was it about Gallagher? He was no braver than any other Corpsman I ever knew, yet he was the bravest man I ever knew. He was a kid, wanting only to do his job, and he did the best job of anyone I ever knew...

Malaria pills, you guys. Everybody gotta take 'em. Come one; come on. Aw,man, Doc!

Nope. Nope. Everybody takes 'em. Come on; you guys know the drill.

Do I mythologize him, this Navy corpsman from back East, somewhere? He saved my life; he saved the lives of countless Marines. He touched my life.

Gallagher carried an aid bag as if it was a part of him. He carried a sidearm, a .45 pistol so rusted it was frozen shut. Grunts from the First Platoon took turns cleaning the damn thing for him.

Jesus, Doc. Suppose you gotta fire your weapon, man? That's what I got you guys for, he'd say. Then he'd hold up his aid bag. This is my job; this is what I do.

Do others remember him? I did not know.

I returned to the Wall, year after year, with the men of Hotel Company. The first reunion, originally intended for Hotel's First Platoon, had now grown to include the entire battalion: 2nd Battalion, 1st Marines (Vietnam). Although loosely organized, we were now an association.

Some months after one of those reunions, I received a package from Bob Hughes, the founder of the association. A typewritten manuscript, written by Marian Faye Novak, was enclosed. The title was Gallagher's Grave. Marian Faye, wife of my platoon commander, Dave Novak, would see her manuscript printed, with the original title, in Yankee Magazine's May 1989 issue. Her story tells of their search for Doc Gallagher's grave.

Someone else has not forgotten.

"Gallagher patched me up when I got shot," Mr. Novak recounts in Marian Faye's story, "And he sent me off on a medevac. I didn't want to go. I didn't feel all that bad. We were on a sweep, and I thought I should finish things up first, but Gallagher said, Please, sir, and it was the way he said, I knew I had to go. I had seen it in his eyes when he told me to go. He knew what he was doing."

The Novaks find Gallagher's grave in St. Monica's Cemetery, Barre, Vermont. He is, according to Barre's newspaper, that small town's second war death. Marian's story ends: "Dave stands motionless. His head is bowed over Gallagher's grave, and I can see drops of sweat on the skull below his thin hair. And then I hear him -- it is almost a whisper, but in the silence all around us I can hear him clearly. 'Semper Fi, kid,' he says. When he looks up, I am beside him. He reaches out and takes my hand, and we walk back to the car."

Someone else has not forgotten.

In March, 1995, I joined a listserv discussion list on the Internet. Owned by Dr. Lydia Fish, as part of her Vietnam Oral History Project at SUNY, the VWAR-L list serves as a vehicle for Vietnam veterans, academics, and whoever else wants to jump in and discuss the war in Vietnam. I lurked for a couple of months, then gradually joined in the general discussion. In August, on the anniversary of Gallagher's death, I posted a simple note to the list:

George Francis "Doc" Gallagher
KIA, 29 August 1967
Corpsman to United States Marines
Buried in St. Monica's Cemetery, Barre, Vermont.
Always Remember.

In response, listmember Michele (Mish) Shea posted: Remembered. In his own Green Mountains.

When I answered I liked knowing that, Mish then asked if I "... would you like a photograph of the area in Barre where "Doc" rests???? My friend Amy [Abare] is from Barre, goes often, and has offered to get that for you if you would like it?! You MUST visit Vermont someday...the best kept secret anywhere...we love it here."

I told Mish I would love photographs of Gallagher's grave. I already had a photograph of Doc in his Marine Corps winter greens, sent to me by Marian Faye; having copies of grave would definitely be good.

Mish then wrote to say that Amy had photographed the site and that "... Amy was very happy to take them, and she was floored by the fact that this young man died at 20 years of age. Amy is 27, and of course, cannot remember what we do, so this has been a learning experience. "Do you want me to send them to the Texas VVA news address??"

I said, Yes, please send them to the address below; and thank Amy for me--please. Tell her I owe her one (no; I owe her several).

I continued my note to Mish: George Gallagher's death hastened his father's demise, and his mother followed not long after. His sister still lives up there somewhere. Marian Faye Novak, my former platoon commander's wife, wrote a piece for Yankee Magazine in 1989 titled, "Gallagher's Grave," which told of Mr. Novak's search for George's grave.

The article is beautifully written; his life touched everyone who knew him. He continues to live on, in our hearts. He will always be 20 years old. Forever young. I have Marian's article on a floppy disk somewhere in my office; I'll look for it and send it along. I'd like Amy to read it, too. Thank you both again... very much.

But Mish and Amy can't wait for me to find Marian Faye's article. Mish has dozens of YANKEE Magazine back issues in her basement. They run through them, locating all the 1989 copies, then looked for the one that has Marian Faye's story. They read it, Amy looking over Mish's shoulder.

"What memorial?," asked Amy, when she read the dedication that begins Marian Faye's story. Barre's War Memorial sits in the center of town; she had never seen it, had no idea where it was. She drove back to Barre, determined to stop and find the memorial. When she did find it, she couldn't believe it. It had been here, all these years; she had never seen it.

Now, Amy thought, I know what it means. Now, I know...

I then received a note from Amy:I have gotten more pictures back of Gallagher's grave, and have a couple more I would like to send you. I will get them out to you next week. It turns out that my friend's mother knew him, and she praised him highly. It's possible, said Amy, my aunt and uncle knew him as well. Barre is a small town and my family has been there all their lives. I hope you get to come see it someday.

I wrote to Amy: I'll accept any photographs you have of Gallagher's grave, and thank you for continuing to care. I am thrilled, and grateful, that Doc was -is- so well thought of in his hometown; he continues to live on in the hearts of those who knew him. Doc was killed, as you know, having read Marian Faye's story in Yankee Magazine, at the Phong Le bridge; I helped recover his body. I had been in-country almost a year by then, but that was the day I truly came to hate that war...

I sent a note to Mish, telling her I think Amy is a good kid.

Mish writes: Mike, yes...Amy IS a good kid. She is a feeling person and she can see quality and goodness where it is!! It was really moving for me to see how she got more pride in Barre from knowing that not only Gallagher, but many young people from the area died in VN. She said: "As I looked through the microfiche for Gallagher's services, I saw that there were more from the area who had been killed, at least one a month."

You know, I wrote Mish, for 28 years I have wondered what good came out of that damned war. Nothing, I thought. But if Gallagher had to die, if any of us had to die, maybe the purpose -- just -- was to bring realization to the next generation of America's Children that we, too, were America's Children. ... And then I reread Mish's note: What microfiche? Is the story not yet over?

Mish wrote, You ask: "What microfiche?" Amy wanted to know more about Gallagher, so when she went to Barre to take the pictures, she also went to the library and looked through the microforms of the local paper. She [Amy] found his obituary, complete with picture... and synopsis of the funeral. He had been a graduate of the local Catholic high school, which is why he was not in the public school yearbook.

As Amy looked through the files she saw so many more young (and not so young) who had died in Vietnam. She has acquired a depth of feeling...a connection, with her community's past and its loss. She didn't send you the obituary/services summary, did she? Maybe not because we talked about it, and we weren't sure how much you wanted, or how much we should send. Let us know if you would want that material.

I'd love to have this information, I wrote Mish. I'd like to be able to include it in the story I've decided to write about Gallagher (which I plan to bring full circle with you and Amy), and I want to send it off the Dave and Marian Novak for inclusion in Volume Two of WE REMEMBER, the oral history of the 2nd Battalion, 1st Marines.

And then Amy sent a note. Reading it, I knew George Francis "Doc" Gallagher will never be forgotten:


I want to share this story with you, she wrote. Considering how all of this has unfolded, I know you'll understand. I went to the library to look up Gallagher's obituary that Marian had written about in her story. I wanted to know more about him, and I wanted to also see a picture of him, I guess to bring him closer to me, in a sense. Marian had mentioned that he had gone to Marion High School in Barre, which is where I attended catechism classes. Naturally this brought all the memories of that school to the forefront of my mind.

One particular picture that kept flashing in my mind was the gym, although I couldn't understand why because I didn't have much to do with that area of the school, but it kept appearing strongly, as if I had spent a lot of time in the gym. I found the article about his death, and as I was reading I discovered he had been, I believe, captain of the basketball team. I then understood why I kept seeing the gym in my mind, and why I felt it so strongly. His picture was there, but by that point I knew I didn't need it to bring him closer to me. There has only been one other experience like that in my life, and I don't doubt either of them.

I had told Michele I wasn't sure if I should assume that you wanted a copy of the obituary. I'm glad though, that you do. I will send you a copy. It really is difficult to describe what I've learned in the past month. I wish I could. There aren't many people I can talk about it with, so I don't. It helps to talk with someone who feels it, like Mish and yourself, so I thank you.

Amy and her friend, Cindy Vize, on Veterans Day, visited St. Monica's Cemetery where, together, they placed flowers on his grave. It was, said Mish, the only grave decorated with flowers.

Until August, they knew nothing, or almost nothing, about Vietnam beyond whatever is in the history books these days. They did not know Doc, nor did they know that other young men from Barre had died in Vietnam. Doc has new friends.

I like knowing that. I have the photographs that Amy and Cindy, so thoughtfully took for me. Doc is in a good place. St. Monica's Cemetery is surrounded by trees in what looks like a small valley. A small stone, set flat in the ground, marks Doc's resting place.


GEORGE F GALLAGHER
VERMONT
HN US NAVY
VIETNAM PH
MARCH 21 1947 AUG 29 1967
A large headstone has been placed in front of Doc's marker. This large one now marks where Doc and his parents, Leo R. and Olive LeFebvre Gallagher, are buried. George Francis "Doc" Gallagher continues to influence people long after his death. He helped people then; he helps people now. More than that can be asked of no one. Doc Gallagher lives forever.

I like knowing that, too.

 

[biggbear8]

Memorial Day should remind us that freedom
is always under challenge
and that freedom is never free.
Freedom is important enough to live for,
and precious enough to die for.
Let us not forget those men and women
who have served our great nation
during times peace and conflict.
Because they gave their "last full measure of devotion",
we are forever in their debt.
We stand with bowed heads and humble hearts
for their graves are hallowed places.
Their service to God and country will always be remembered.
On this day, we can pay no higher tribute to our dead,
nor render greater service to our great nation,
than instill in others,
who seemingly have no special reason for remembering,
what the true spirit of Memorial Day really is.
It is a day for all Americans!
~~By Laura Slaton Phillips~~