From one of my dads brothers from Nam:

Attached File


"Tontine" and now there are TWO.  I've posted this picture every Veteran's Day and Memorial Day for the last 15 years.  Charlie Powell, first row on the right, was killed May 31, 1968 during a fight for which he would be awarded the Navy Cross.    Another hero in that fight was Francis Connor, back row far right who, with brother Marine Mike Hearn, stayed back to cover the withdrawal of the Company and keep it from being overrun after already suffering 11 KIA's.  The two of them poured rocket after rocket into the advancing NVA before running out of ammunition.  They would both survive that day but Connor would lose his life on August 21, 1968 while attacking a heavily fortified machine gun position.  Francis Connor was 19 years old.  The other 7 of us in the picture would come home to start new lives.  But over the years, old wounds and souvenir diseases from Vietnam slowly took it's toll and now there are just TWO.  LT. Bill Schultz, standing without his combat gear on and myself, back row standing second from the right next to Francis Connor.  I'll be 74 next week but two days a year, today included, I'll be 21 again and back in that picture with my brothers.  Soon we'll ALL be in that picture again and when we are, I hope my family remembers me and my OTHER family those two days a year.  Semper Fidelis.

Attention!! Hand Salute!

What a great read!  Read all 41 pages in 2 days.  You guys are bad ass! Thanks

I'm glad my pics are still showing from my old photobucket account.  If they disappear again I have them saved to my computer.

From Jack:

I was recently asked if our Corpsmen in Vietnam did a good job? If that person had only known how deeply that question touched my soul! I had several different Corpsmen attached to my platoon/squad. Not one of them failed to do their duty in battle. Some might say, "well they did their job." Would you like to have the job of running, across fire swept ground, to treat a badly wounded Marine? Not just once, but for hours on end!

I have previously written about efforts to decorate one of my Corpsman at Getlin's Corner. It took only 38 years to get Doc Ken Braun the Navy Cross, and it should have been the Medal of Honor!

My other Corpsman in that battle was Doc Chuck Dockery, our chief Corpsman. He too should have been decorated with something more than a Purple Heart, but he was not.


When Doc Chuck Dockery died, in 2009, after suffering the loss of his legs from battle, Lon Getlin, the Marine brother of our skipper Mike Getlin, was asked by Doc's family to do the eulogy at his funeral. A daunting task indeed for a man loved by so many! Though Doc received no medals for Valor, he was no less a true hero to we that served with him. His recommendations for Valor had been somehow lost along the administrative trail.


I share with you Lon Getlin's eulogy for Doc Dockery, a real hero in every sense of the word!


Eulogy
Good afternoon everyone, and thank you for joining us today in remembrance of Chuck Dockery.  Many of you may remember the old John Wayne movie, True Grit. Well, Doc Dockery was the real deal..a man for whom true grit was a basic requirement just to get through every day of the past 42 years.


I would like to thank Lin Dockery and her children, Mike and Maggie, for giving me the opportunity to speak to you today about this extraordinary man, Chuck (Doc) Dockery: a devoted husband and father----- and a man of great integrity, courage, and character-----and of course, a brother Marine!  (We Marines consider all Navy Corpsmen to be Marines).


It also goes without saying that Doc was one tough buckaroo, but few of us could begin to imagine just how tough he was.and what a fighter he was.  Lin, Maggie, and Mike certainly know.  And so did fellow Marine Jack Riley with whom Doc fought in an historic battle in Vietnam that I'll talk about shortly.  Jack told me, "Lon, Doc was the most severely wounded man I ever saw to survive his wounds.  None of us gave him any chance to live."


As much as I am humbled and inspired to be here with you this afternoon, I must confess my fear that I don't have the skill to rise to the occasion.  What can I possibly say in a few brief minutes----with but a very ordinary command of the English language---that will adequately pay tribute to what was truly an extraordinary life of triumph over adversity?


Adding to my fear is the fact that I am hardly just speaking for myself.  No.No I am speaking for all the Marines who served in combat with Doc during the Vietnam War.  And in particular, I am speaking for the Marines of India Company, 3rd Battalion, 9th Marines who----with Doc Dockery at their side and in the center of the storm----engaged in the most extraordinary battle in the history of the Marine Corps..if I may define "extraordinary" in terms the number of men who received the nation's three highest awards for valor in combat:
The Silver Star: the nation's 3rd highest award for valor
The Navy Cross: the nation's 2nd highest award for valor
The Medal of Honor: the nation's highest award for valor
The battle is now know as The Battle of Getlin's Corner.  It began in the late afternoon of 30 March 1967 with the most intense fighting ending late that evening. The opposing forces consisted of the lightly armed rifle company..India Company, 3rd Battalion, 9th Marines.known as "The Flaming I".. vs. what is believed to be a North Vietnamese Regiment so heavily armed that they were equipped with wheeled, heavy machine guns and even an anti-aircraft gun.  The focus of the enemy attack was on Hill 70 and the small group of Marines that was setting its night position on the hill.  It was The Flaming I's headquarters.or Command Post, and Doc Dockery was a member of that Command Post.


The Marines were heavily outnumbered as wave after wave of brave, doped-up, and determined North Vietnamese soldiers mounted assaults on the Command Post from three different directions.  The battle quickly turned into desperate hand-to-hand combat, and men on both sides fell to withering machine gun fire, mortars, and grenades. Chuck Dockery was an early casualty of the fighting, shot at least four times and shattered by enemy grenades and mortar fire.


So if there is anyone among you here today who wondered about how Doc came upon his disability, now you know.  And if you ever wondered how this man seemed to live his life displaying such courage and determination, now you know that as well:  his character was forged and hardened----at least to a large extent---on a battlefield in Vietnam some 42 years ago.


When it was all over, 52 Marines lay wounded, and 15 were dead. In the aftermath, 7 Silver Stars, 4 Navy Crosses, and a Medal of Honor were awarded to the men of The Flaming I. In no other single battle in Marines Corp's history have so many of the nation's highest combat decorations been awarded to men whose heroism went so far beyond the call of duty.
I know Doc would never forgive me if I let pass the opportunity to introduce you all to two of his fellow Marines----genuine heroes both!-----who fought with Doc at Getlin's Corner: (I am sorry and I know these men will be terribly embarrassed---something in which Doc would have no doubt taken fiendish delight).but
I would like you all to meet Jim Burghardt, recipient of the Silver Star.  Jim, please stand up.


And Ken "Doc" Braunone of Chuck Dockery's fellow Corpsmen---the recipient of the Navy Cross. Doc, would you please stand.


The ancient Greek philosopher, Hericlitus, said, "Character is destiny!" (I always marvel at how we remember three words uttered by some guy over 2000 years ago when I, at age 65, can't remember what anyone said to me 20 minutes ago!)
Anyway, I suppose what Hericlitus meant by that is that one's destiny is determined by one's character. If that is what he meant, I'm fully on board with him!


Consider Chuck Dockery's character: at just 22-years-of-age, he returned home from the most unpopular war in America's history. He was not welcomed home by an adoring public as is currently and appropriately the custom for today's warriors returning from Iraq and Afghanistan.


No, that was not Doc's reception.  To the contrary, he came home instead to an indifferent public---a sometimes even hostile public----a public that had little interest in him or any other veteran of the Vietnam War.


Awaiting him at home were countless medical operations and  years of rehabilitation and insufferable pain.  His prospects for a meaningful, rewarding career were dim at best, and how could any man with such devastating injuries ever even hope to find a loving wife, let alone a marriage that would last 42 years and produce two outstanding and successful children.


How easy it would have been for him---were it not for his character---to sink into depression, self-pity, and even self-loathing.  But Doc refused to be the victim.  His character would define his destiny, and certainly not the wounds suffered on a battlefield 3000 miles from home!  The physical limitation imposed on him on the night of 30 March became nothing more than what Al Gore would call, An Inconvenient Truth.


Lewis Carroll, the author of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass said this about courage:  "Brave men are all vertebrates; they have their softness on the surface, and their toughness in the middle."


That perfectly describes the kind of man we all knew Chuck Dockery to be.
I ask you all to look at the picture of Doc we have before us. We all know the "softness on the surface" that was Chuck Dockery.  But for anyone who wondered about the "toughness in the middle" look into those eyes..and wonder no more!


Doc came home from the war broken in body only.  He quickly put about building a life that would be defined by accomplishments in the classroom and a rewarding, productive career in a very difficult and demanding field.  He would contribute to his community and to his fellow veterans through his various interests and activities outside of his normal work.


But more than anything else that defines how his character would define his destiny, we need look no further than this amazing woman, Linda Dockery, who came to his side shortly after he returned from Vietnam..and never left it until just 5 days ago.


A bright, beautiful, accomplished woman in her own right, she could have chosen differently.  But she saw in Chuck Dockery the same stature..the same qualities his Marine buddies saw Doc display on the battlefield, and together they faced and conquered 42 years of adversity..and together they build a rewarding, highly productive life  And the life they built together was a gift of inspiration to those of us fortunate enough to know them.
Lin, as a man who has been married to an amazing woman myself for 27 years, I can speak with some authority when I tell you that a gal like you is mighty hard to find.  Doc was a very lucky man to have you by his side for all these years.  All men should be so lucky!


I spoke with Jack Riley yesterday, and we had a tremendous laugh together.  Jack told me that his fondest post-war memory of Doc was the two of you dancing together at an India 3/9 reunion.


"There they were" Jack giggled with that infectious Southern charm of his, "dancin' up a storm: Doc wheeling around the floor with Lin sitting on his lap!"  Jack and I really had a laugh over that, and then we realized..with great affection and admiration.. that to you two amazing people.why, hell, you've been dancin' like that since the day you met!


You and your husband, Lin, define for the rest of us the meaning of courage, character, and lives well led!  I am proud to have known him, and I know that my brother---Doc's Company Commander---is standing here with me at this moment thinking exactly the same thing that I am thinking.and Jim Burghardt is thinking.and Doc Braun is thinking: our lives were made fuller because Chuck Dockery passed our way!


Now, if I may shift gears before I offer a couple of final thoughts, it is my very great pleasure to read a letter written by the same indomitable Jack Riley I just mentioned..a Marine loved and deeply respected by all of us who know how courageously and brilliantly he fought at Getlin's Corner.


A dear friend of Doc's.and expressing the sentiments of all Doc's Marine Corps

Brothers, Jack writes:
READ JACK'S LETTER
Lon,
Here are my thoughts for your consideration. I'd like to have a copy of your final piece since I will be unable to attend. Thank you again for doing this for all of us!
Semper Fidelis,
Jack


PO2 Charles (Chuck) Michael Dockery, USN (Ret.)


They are all known as "Doc" to the Marines they are pledged to serve and defend. They have courage that sets them apart from normal everyday people. They are always kidded by their Marines with names like squid but rest assured these same Marines allow no one else to mess with their Doc!

Their official job title is Hospital Corpsman. The phrase that causes them to display courage like Superman is "Corpsman Up!" Being designated as a Fleet Marine Corpsman is a badge of honor!
We the Marines of India Company, 3rd Battalion, 9th Marines, were blessed to have Corpsmen of the highest caliber. We've routinely witnessed our Corpsmen perform feats of bravery with total disregard for their own personal safety. Our enemy recognized how this display of courage could cause others to emulate them so Corpsmen became high priority targets to be killed or captured. It is how Corpsman react after becoming casualties themselves that defines the difference between courage and heroism. Sadly, this heroism is not always recognized with formal decorations for valor as was the case for Doc Dockery.


Doc Chuck Dockery has been a hero to the survivors of Hill 70 at Getlin's Corner for over 42 years. We have seen many wounded in battle; some slight and some life threatening. Some will start calling "Corpsman Up" at the first sight of blood while others just get more motivated to close with and kill the enemy. For me personally, I have never seen anyone wounded so many times from rifles, grenades, and mortars than was Doc Chuck Dockery, and survive! He was shot in both legs and both arms while running to render aid to his Marines. He crawled and provided aid until he could move no more. Hours passed and at long last after darkness had set in, we were finally able to locate and drag him into our final defensive position of brush and briers. A position filled with wounded and bleeding Marines where Doc instructed me to lay him next to someone that needed his help! There was not any part of his body that was not covered with blood; both his and the Marines he had treated. He never stopped doing his duty! I still do not know who treated Doc's wounds and when I asked he said he did not know. I think he treated them himself or he would have died from loss of blood.


Many years, far too many years later, Doc and I talked on the phone for hours. That same dry sense of humor was still there as we talked about life after the war. He told me about his wonderful family and the love of his life, Lin. We finally got around to talking about THAT night.


That night that had changed all of our lives forever. That night that had created a bond of trust and brotherhood between men that could never be broken. That night where we had lost some of the best friends we had ever known. That night where we had been witness to some of the bravest Marines and Corpsmen our country has ever produced. Doc told me that he remembered me yelling at all the Marines. I told him that I did a lot of yelling in battle. I couldn't hear and I figured no one else could hear either. He cracked another of his one liners and I laughed out-loud. Doc never laughed at his own material! The sign of a true comedian! He wanted to clear up some things that had happened that he couldn't see because of the tall grass. He told me about the mortar round that exploded right next to the place he and Doc Braun had established to bring the most seriously wounded. He is hit again and Larry Crumbaker, from my squad, was killed.


Doc paused a good while. Those pauses I'd learned always ended with a serious question. He asked, "who drug me back inside the perimeter?" I told him that some Marines including my radio operator Mike Baker. He paused again and I could sense that he was trying to remember Mike. I told him that I would send him a picture of Mike. I could tell that Doc had been trying all those years to remember who to thank. I told him that it was he and Doc Braun that kept all the Marines on that hill alive. We wanted him to know how much we loved and admired him!


Sam Phillips from our gun team had witnessed Doc Dockery running to the aid of our CP when he saw Doc shot four times. How do men like this continue to do their duty? These last eight weeks have been a perfect example of Doc's strength and devotion. Lesser men would quit but Doc Chuck Dockery was no ordinary man. He fought on with Lin encouraging him to keep fighting.


Most of us that survived the war have little aches and pains when compared to Doc's condition. He lived his life as the quite, secure man that he was. People meeting him would probably say that he was quite, very intelligent and seemed to care a great deal for people he knew. For the Marines of the "Flaming I", Doc Chuck Dockery was a giant of a man!


An American Hero known only by the Marines that loved and respected him like no other.


Doc was so looking forward to our next reunion! I'm positive the reunion he experienced on December 5, 2009 can only be described as GLORIOUS!
Semper Fidelis Doc!
India Company, 3rd Bn. 9th Mar.
Vietnam 1966-1967
With us today in spirit are 15 special men---men forever suspended in their youth---Marines who paid the ultimate sacrifice in the service of this great nation and who were brothers then just as they are brothers now.


And now another of their brothers---Doc Dockery---has joined their ranks:
These fine young men all perished at Getlin's Corner on 30 March 1967
PFC Wallace Williams
PFC Frankie Thomas, Jr.
PFC Don Krick
PFC Ed Cannon
PFC Al (Abdul) Anter
PFC Ruben (Peanut) Armenta
LCPL Roman Villamor, Jr.
LCPL Larry  (Crummy) Crumbaker
Cpl Jim Blevins
Cpl Dave Siemon
Cpl Walt Nerad, Jr.
Cpl. John Lowereranitis
2nd Lt. John Bobo ( Recipient of the Medal of Honor)
Capt Ralph Papas
Capt Mike Getlin
LCPL Jim Ethridge of the 2nd Platoon, in contributing to a written account of the Battle of Getlin's Corner in George Navadel's book, A Rifle Company's Tale , wrote the following:
"I am no hero, but I spent several hours around many of them that night.  I relive that night over and over..as most of us who survived the battle do. I saw many of our brothers fall.  Now, I hold a private vigil for them each year on 30 March..all by myselfwith candlesand quietness.  And I lift a few beers for the ones who are gone now..and a few more for the rest of us."


WellDoc Dockery is gone now.  He has moved to the other side to join his brothers.and will now be one of those for whom Jim Ethridge---and all the other Marines of the Flaming I---will light candles and lift beersin respect, honor, love, and remembrance.


I believe that Doc is happy where he is---up there with all the others---suspended in their youth---as they catch up on what's been happening over the past 42 years.
They are all safe now-----no more fear----no more pain----as they wait patiently for the rest of their brothers.and their dear family members.to join them.


Lin.Maggie.Mike.on behalf of the Marines and Corpsmen of India 3/9..I thank you again for the opportunity to recognize your husband and father.and our brother Marine.

Thank you for sharing.

@apmonte I was curious about this as well...

"Blackhawk Down" gets a lot or respect and awe around here and rightfully so. But there are, in my opinion, VN actions that were every bit as desperate and heroic that are pretty much lost to time.

The Easter Sunday Battle, or as the survivors call it "The Day of the Guns", is one of those.

I'm not going to TL/DR this out of respect for the guys passed and present who endured it, but here's an excerpt:

“I heard a helicopter approach, 50 feet over our heads, and it was spraying gas all over from the hits,” Myhre recalls. “Now all the tracers were aimed at the Dustoff, not us. He set down tail to enemy, 75 feet away. Joe [Watson, 17’s gunner] grabbed me by the collar, saying we need to get in there. Then both of us were hit. It flipped me in the air. But Joe never let go.” Now Myhre had a second wound, this time in the back. The bullet stopped a fraction of an inch from his spine.

Seeing the Outlaw crew’s painful progress, crew chief Mike Kelley and medic Bill Hook jumped out to help. A VC gunner drew a bead on Dustoff co-​pilot Charlie Jordan, but a chest protector relocated behind his head blocked three well-placed bullets.

While helping the Outlaw survivors, Kelley was shot. He made it back to the helicopter but died before he could board. Among the enlisted men, Kelley had stood out: An all-state football player in high school, he had turned down a generous college scholarship package to enlist. Now he lay dead in a rice paddy.

As Eberwine pulled the Dustoff’s collective lever up, preparing to fly forward to gain speed and altitude, a bullet crashed through the chin bubble and hurled his left leg onto the right torque pedal, putting the ship into a tight turn. “You’ve got it,” Eberwine yelled to his copilot, Charlie Jordan, but before Jordan could counter the turn, a skid caught the ground and the helicopter rolled onto its side, flinging chunks of rotor blade. Fuel spilled and ignited.

It was Myhre’s second crash of the morning. The rollover left him dazed at what was now the underside of the helicopter, his arm pinned between the paddy mud and the half-sunken door frame. “After it crashed, I was unconscious,” Myhre says. “My right arm was pinned and I didn’t know where the hell I was. Then somebody yelled ‘fire,’ and that took about a millisecond to register. I looked straight up the deck, knew I had to get out, and started digging to get my arm free.”

Attached File


https://www.airspacemag.com/military-aviation/vinh-long-easter-sunday-battle-180970805/

It sure looks like one, but since I can't ask my father, we'll have to rely on the expertise of GD for confirmation.

In early 1969 the rifle company I worked for were issued 2 M16A1s with silencers and starlight scopes. They were given to the 2 best marksman in the company. During the day they were carried without the scope and used with the standard sights. The only difference I noted between the suppressed rifles and the one I carried was a rubber flap on the back of the charging handle to deflect gas away from the shooters face.

Even though the suppressors seemed large to me, they didn't make the gun that much quieter when you were in position next to it. But when they were fired at someone 2 or 3 hundred meters away, if they missed the person did not act in a normal way. They would look around trying to figure out where the shot came from. That would give you time for another shot.

I never shot one of them.

We had a Special Forces Company next to our 11th cav. Company area at Quan Loi , several of them maybe half and half carried the XM177 short version M16 , and others had M16A1's rifle , I only saw a handful of these on the new M16A1's ,never on the XM177 , and they had the newer and much smaller and lighter starlight scopes  mounted on them ,  I also saw my first 30rd M16 mag ,they had alot of them and didnt want to let any of them go , all we had were the 20rd mags then in 69 that everyone wants now , when I got in country in 6-69 I was issued a brand new M16A1 and assigned to the 82nd AB 2/505 at Phu Loi , I never saw any silencers on M16's while I was with them , we did have some scout snipers attached to us , some had dogs and all carried M14's with variable scopes and starlight scopes that they could interchange  , I never saw anyone shooting them or hear them shooting one , all the bullets that whizzed by my head I could hear very well  

The 2ndLt mentioned above, 2ndLt John Bobo. I remember reading this MoH citation when I was a brand new 2ndLt in 1983. It is awe inspiring to say the least.

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty as Weapons Platoon Commander, Company I, Third Battalion, Ninth Marines, Third Marine Division, in Quang Tri Province, Republic of Vietnam, on 30 March 1967. Company I was establishing night ambush sites when the command group was attacked by a reinforced North Vietnamese company supported by heavy automatic weapons and mortar fire. Lieutenant BOBO immediately organized a hasty defense and moved from position to position encouraging the outnumbered Marines despite the murderous enemy fire. Recovering a rocket launcher from among the friendly casualties, he organized a new launcher team and directed its fire into the enemy machine gun position. When an exploding enemy mortar round severed Lieutenant Bobo's right leg below the knee, he refused to be evacuated and insisted upon being placed in a firing position to cover the movement of the command group to a better location. With a web belt around his leg serving as tourniquet and with his leg jammed into the dirt to curtail the bleeding, he remained in this position and delivered devastating fire into the ranks of the enemy attempting to overrun the Marines. Lieutenant BOBO was mortally wounded while firing his weapon into the main point of the enemy attack but his valiant spirit inspired his men to heroic efforts, and his tenacious stand enabled the command group to gain a protective position where it repulsed the enemy onslaught. Lieutenant BOBO's superb leadership, dauntless courage, and bold initiative reflected great credit upon himself and upheld the highest traditions of the Marine Corps and the United States Naval Service. He gallantly gave his life for his country.

Thank God that such men lived throughout our history.

He is the reason I am here today, with out what he did, my dad likely would not have survived that battle.

I would imagine that is a pretty humbling feeling to know a specific time, place and person likely allowed for your very existence on this little orb we call home. I still remember reading that citation for the first time. It sent chills up my spine.

From one of my dad's brothers:

To my India 3/9 USMC Brothers:
I meant to post these yesterday, as it was 53 years ago yesterday that we experienced that forever nightmare on Route 9 between the Rockpile and CaLu.  We departed the Rockpile at 1125H and made it half way before we were ambushed by a substantial NVA unit.

Five hours and 21 Dead and 80 Wounded Marines later we arrived at CaLu.  When I was examined by a V.A. audiologist a couple of years ago he asked me if I was exposed to loud noises during my time in the Corps.  I handed him a copy of the Command Chronology for 13Jan68.

The following support was fired:  40mm-1100 rounds, 81mm-784 rounds, 105mm-583 rounds, 90mm-75 rounds, 155mm-94 rounds.  I told him to throw in helicopter gunships and tens of thousands of rounds of small arms and other ordinance and he could draw his own conclusions.  He said, "That was ONE incident?"  I laughed and said, "Yep..do you need the others?"  He said, "Nope".  LOL.  Most of my guys are gone now but never forgotten.  Until we're all "inside the wire" boys...Semper Fi.

Glad you made it home bud.

I'm sharing stories from those who served with my dad.

From one of my Dad's brothers:

Attention On Deck - I received word this morning that Retired Major Jim Trudeau has passed away at his home in Georgia.  Major Trudeau was the C.O. of Mike Company 3/9  at Con Thien when he earned his first Purple Heart.

After recovering from his wounds he assumed command of India Company 3/9 on 1 January 1968.  He was wounded and received a second Purple Heart for the ambush on 13 January on Route  9 .  He continued command of India Company until he was wounded again on February 15, 1968, during a mission to rescue wounded Marines of Kilo 3/9  on Valentine's Ridge.  As this was his third PH, he was ordered to give up his command and depart the country.

 I located Mr. Trudeau in 1998 and he attended his first India Company Reunion that year in Gulfport, MS.  He and I had a running joke when I told him he gave me the best Fitness Report I ever received as a Sgt.  He kind of puffed up and asked what he wrote.  I replied "DID NOT OBSERVE".  Henceforth, at every subsequent reunion he would greet me by mentioning the same FitRep and we'd laugh.  Major Trudeau was 82.  Semper Fidelis Skipper...see you "inside the wire".

Hand salute.

Attached File
From Jack:

My DI at Parris Island, sang a very melodic marching cadence, using Hut as well as other words, that were not spoken correctly, but understood by all. He was a master of the close order drill cadence, and many tried to emulate his calls. I became close to this Marine DI, who was a veteran of fifteen years service. We corresponded while I was in Vietnam, and he continued training recruits at Parris Island. He finally, received his orders to Vietnam, and wrote he would look me up since we would be in the same division. He kept his word, stopping by my CP at Camp Carroll, but unfortunately, I was out in the bush.


He and my Top were old buddies from prior service together. He had left me a unique message upon my return to the CP, some days later, which my Top gleefully, delivered! Gunny Elliott left word that, "if you didn't get up to Con Thien, he'd kick your ass!" So, with permission from Top, off to Con Thien I go, on the next day's resupply run, riding as an always needed, extra shotgun!


Con Thien, during the month of May 1967, was being manned by Delta Company, 1st Battalion, 4th Marines. Con Thien, being the northernmost position along the DMZ, received constant incoming artillery fire, from North Vietnam, just a few clicks to the North. The day I arrived at their position, I immediately, ran to their command bunker, asking where I could locate their company Gunny, Leroy Elliott? Their Commanding Officer asked why I wanted to see the Gunny. I explained, and he then informed me, Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Elliott had been killed on May 08th, during an NVA assault on their position.


The man who, to me, was the epitome of being a Marine, gave his life defending a break, in their defensive position. Gunny Elliott was married and had a 10-year-old son, whom he adored.
I joined the Marines during the height of the turbulent civil rights years. I am placed in a platoon at Parris Island, where my senior DI is a black man from Philly. He was six feet four inches tall, and without an ounce of fat. He looked as if he could have been on the Marine Corps recruiting posters! He announced there were no black or white recruits; only dark green and light green! He was tough as nails, but fair! Now the two Junior DI's were more easily described as, holy terrors! That was their job!


I could write a full chapter about all the reasons why Gunny Elliott impacted my life as a Marine, but also that as a citizen of the greatest nation on earth.
Gunny Elliott's name is engraved on the Vietnam Memorial Wall, panel 19 East, Line 57, along with 35 more Marines from 1/4 who were killed, May 08, 1967. God rest their souls.

I have posted these pics one at a time in various threads. My dad is 70 now and has finally come to terms with his time in that war. He has even accepted my offer to do a recorded interview while going through his photo albums. I never would have seen that coming as Vietnam was something you never talked about in my house growing up.    

Late 1969 to early 1970

From Jack:

I posted the following last month, on a military forum for the M-14 rifle. Members only could see that post so now, anyone interested in the rifle, can see this. I was addressing comments by others in that group.

For what it's worth! I was a squad leader in the 9th Marines, during the Vietnam War. We carried the M-14 for 9 1/2 of my 13 months in country, before they were replaced with the Mattie Mattels! I had a regular routine for all newly arriving Marines to my squad, and then later on, to the entire company.

They would first draw their 782 gear and their M-14 rifles, from the S-4 armourer. I then took the men to a location, where they were to acquire their new individual battle sights. Before allowing them to fire their M-14, I told them they had to hold and fire, a full magazine of 20 rounds, on full automatic, in the off-hand position.

Why? I had to demonstrate, for each individual, that at best, only 3 of those 20 rounds were capable of hitting the intended target area! The remaining 17 rounds were in the sky because of the heavy recoil. I then demonstrated how an M-14, turned sideways (90 degrees) into the crook of their arm, could be used for suppressive fire, since the rifle would then be moving in a horizontal plane. The M-16 with its 5.56 round, and buffered recoil, could easily be held on target, firing a full magazine on AR.



New men were never assigned an AR, unless there were no experienced men left in their fireteam. The M-14 AR with bipods, were just as effective, as the BAR had been, in WWII and Korea!



I never saw an M-14 barrel warp from AR fire, nor did I ever see a fixed bayonet handle melt from AR, as some here have purported on rapid fire. I did see the barrels of shotguns, and rifles split after having their barrels jammed into the ground, and then attempted to fire! I have witnessed M-60 barrels become cherry red from their rate of fire. There were even stories about some M-60 A-Gunners who, without having an asbestos glove available, were heard to have changed out a cherry red barrel, with their bare hand! This would have destroyed their hand. Do I believe this happened? Absolutely, I do. They sacrificed for their gun team, to help save lives.



The M-14's were the best we had during that time! The newly acquired defective M-16's were responsible for too many, from our 9th Marines, losing their lives in the Hill Fights of April 1967!



My M-14 never failed in battle! It was just as reliable as the NVA's AK-47, and much more accurate! The AK was much lighter than the M-14, and some Marine recon unit members did use them, and did carry them during the war. But, it was very dangerous to do so in a Marine Rifle Company! Why? The report (sound) of an AK, is so recognizable that you just might get shot by your own men!



Yes, the M-14 was heavy. The 7.62 ammo was also heavy. But, so was everything else we carried.
Semper Fidelis!

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Cpl Jack in the article I posted is whose stories I've been sharing.

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Ola Lee Mize spent a total of 4 years in Vietnam as a Special Forces officer, during which he was shot multiple times and earned a Silver Star and 5 Bronze Stars. All of this occurred, however, during his second war, over a decade after his time as an enlisted man in Korea where he earned the Medal of Honor...
On June 10, 1953, at a place called Outpost Harry, Mize and his company from the 15th Infantry Regiment fought off a Chinese force outnumbering them 30 to 1. Mize seemed omnipresent over the outpost fighting off the enemy and resupplying his men. When one machine gun position was overrun, Mize battled his way to the gun and killed 10 enemy soldiers in and around the position. Grenade and artillery blasts blew him off his feet 3 times on his journey, but couldn't stop him. Legend told that he killed the last few enemy in the hole with an entrenching tool after his carbine ran out of ammo.

"I just knew I was going to die. I knew it. I accepted it," he remembered years later. "All I wanted to do was take as many of them with me as I could."

Mize continued fighting all night long, calling in artillery, and finally organizing a counter-attack as dawn approached to drive the Chinese from the hill. He was personally credited with killing over 60 enemy soldiers.

Mize was awarded the Medal of Honor in 1954, prior to gaining his commission and becoming a Green Beret. He survived all of his time in Vietnam, and eventually retired as a Colonel in 1981. He passed away from lung cancer in 2014 at the age of 82.

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Cot dam.

My son near Hanoi I think, just a couple of years ago
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Now there's a guy you don't mess with. Holy hell! Thanks for sharing.

Here's a random personal item question for the vets in here.  My dad mentioned when he was in vietnam a lot of the chopper pilots and other cool guys had Seiko watches back then. Did any of you have one or see one while there? Bonus if you have pics. He was in 3/9 Marines 67-68.

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I ran across this manhai PhotoRoll containing thousands of pages of photos from the Vietnam War.

It is very interesting.

Everyone in Vietnam had a Seiko. They were relatively cheap and available. I had several of them but traded them off. The PX at Chu Lai had a large display case full of them.

Hey my dad was I3/9 in 67.

from Jack:

Interesting reading about the pros and cons of the CMC order, to disband the Tank Battalions. I, for one, am thankful we had them available to us in Vietnam.

I posted this response to a comment on another board:Tanks not only provided fire power in Vietnam, they also made it possible for us to go through brush so thick, we would have taken forever to hack through. Operation Buffalo occurred from July 2-15, 1967, with temps and humidity over 100. B/1/9 KIAs laid in the sun for two days before my company could retrieve their decaying bodies.

Choppers could not retrieve them due to heavy NVA AA fire, so we went in with tanks. We wore gas mask, but it didn't really help much. We loaded our dead on those tanks, and they took them to Con Thien. That day was July 4th. The smell of NVA death, I was use to. The smell of Marines death, I shall never forget!

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On my way back home we stopped at Guam for 2 or 3 hrs , I had enough money to get one there , the watch I had while in country was a graduation gift from H.S. made by Gossman , It had seen better days ,the crystal was so fogged up from all the Insect repellent that got splashed on it you could barely see the hands on it ...

Yep, every aviator worth his salt in Vietnam had a big ol' PX Seiko.  Mine is still still around here somewhere.  It was a good watch.

This isn't my watch, but it looked like this one:

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Thanks for your families stories.

The USNS John Bobo

Another story from Jack:

Just had a memory pop into my brain housing group, about Mongoose Mizner who was my very first fireteam leader in Vietnam. We were so short of men at the time, that we were running daylight 3-man FT patrols.

We didn't wear helmets, or flak jackets in those days, just soft covers. Mongoose had this old floppy wide brim camo hat, he always wore. Being a boot at the time, I had to also serve as the FT radioman.

Curtis Jones started out as pointman, for an hour or so, and then Mongoose moved to point. It had been raining everyday and all the creeks and ditches we had to cross were overflowing. We are moving to our next checkpoint, and I ask Mongoose about the depth of the water we are about to cross?

He answered it was waist deep the last time they were in the area. I am maintaining my 10 pace interval, with Jonesy 10 paces behind me. Naturally, I am scoping out the area all around us. The next time I look forward towards Mongoose, all I see is his old bush cover floating on top of the water.

He is nowhere in sight! I rush forward to discover he had stepped off into a deep trench the Vietnamese dug to control the spread of bamboo into their rice patties. Mongoose was loaded down with extra ammo, grenades, flares, and that heavy M-14 rifle. To his credit, he did not panic, and re emerged with all his gear intact.

But, it was very funny to Jonesy and myself. Too bad, I didn't have a camera at that time. I told Mongoose it would have made a great photo to send home to his wife labeled, here I am on patrol, and nothing but his old cover floating on the water.

Mongoose shortly thereafter, became my squad leader, and I owe much of the knowledge I acquired about being a squad leader to him. He did make it through his 13 months tour and returned home to his beautiful wife. Mongoose fell in love with Alaska, and I am sure if he is still alive today, he is probably somewhere in those deep woods. I feel confident that he learned his lesson about stepping off into waters of unknown depth.

I can relate to that story. I am 5 foot 5 inches and every river in Vietnam is deeper than that. I could swim with all my gear on but that damn steel pot always pulled my face into the water. I figured out that I could hold my rifle out of the water with my left hand, dog paddle with my right and push that damn steel pot forward with my nose.

My friend, Larry McCabe, Airborne, Hill 875 Dak To

took two through and through

rehabbed and went back with this men instead of coming home

I absolutely love that this thread is still alive. Thank you all for sharing your stories.

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More from Jack:

March 30, 2021

Marines and family,


Time heals all wounds; or does it?

We have all lost family and friends, both unexpected, as well as those who lived what would be considered, a full life. We immediately grieved at their passing, and we remember all the happy times we experienced together.


There are also those of us, who were present when Marines, who were brothers, like family even, who died next to us, some in our arms. It was hard to distinguish their blood, from that of our own bleeding wounds, saturating our jungle utilities. We were Marines in the middle of battle, who like Marines in all wars, were not afforded the opportunity for grief. Our very lives depended on our immediate actions, so mourning the loss of a brother, had to wait.  Such was the case at Getlin's Corner, Hill 70, SW of Con Thien, March 30, 1967. Leaders in battle, are never allowed the luxury of extended time, to make decisions. Leaders can never have their judgement clouded, by what some might call, sentimentality. Those that do allow this to creep into judgement, are putting at risk, all under their command.


NVA soldiers, concealed by the high elephant grass on the hill, were impossible to see, until we were on top of them. The tall grass allowed them to slip unseen, all over the hill. The battle intensified and I was ordered to pull my squad back up the hill, securing a frontal position for the CP. We had killed untold numbers of NVA soldiers, in their frontal assaults from our original position, failing in each of their attempts, to over-run us. Two of my men, Ruben Armenta and Larry Crumbaker, were already dead from multiple mortar blast. We found ourselves having to fight 360 degrees, on our way back up the hill, to the CP. Captain Getlin next ordered me to attack back over the hill towards Lt. Bobo, and save all the wounded we could. The NVA were killing any wounded they found. The NVA's remaining machine guns made it almost impossible to move, but the courage of my Marines never wavered. Sadly, four more men with my squad, died in our assault, including Jack Loweranitis, who was determined to take out their machinegun. That same machine gun we could not even see, except for the many green tracer rounds headed our way. I am very grateful to my Alabama brother Marine, Lynn Williamson, who finally destroyed the weapon with a rocket, later in the battle.


I am reminded what our First Sergeant Ray Rogers, later told me about Lt. John Bobo's, protecting my left flank. Top had witnessed our Skipper, Captain Mike Getlin's attempts to throw out multiple NVA Chicom grenades, that had landed in his CP. One of those grenades exploded killing our Skipper, but he had shielded the blast with his body, protecting two of his severely wounded radio operators. Top had to next notify Lt. Bobo, that he was now in command of India Company. Top said when he crawled to Lt. Bobo's position, John's right leg had already been blown off by an enemy mortar round. John instructed Top to move the CP to a more defensible position on the hill, plus take control of fighting the company, while John held off the NVA's attempts to over-run his flank. John did not hesitate in making that decision. He knew the Skipper was dead. He also knew that his traumatic amputation could end his life. He was also aware where my squad was fighting, and inaction on his part, would allow the NVA to roll up my flank. And finally, John knew our entire hill could be over-run, if he did nothing! John did what heroes do! He singlehanded stopped the assault on our flank. He, with that old Mossberg 500 pump 12-gauge shotgun, firing solid brass shells of double ought buckshot, left dead NVA lying all around the position where we found him. Doc Braun then secured a web belt tourniquet, before attempting to drag John, about 15 meters over the crest of the hill, to safety from the intense incoming fire. They made it about 10 meters before having to stop, and fire into the attacking NVA. This was when a lone NVA soldier, stood up from the tall grass behind them, firing his AK-47 on automatic, killing John, and wounding Doc 3 times.


My squad were continuing our assault on the NVA, and locating our wounded. I never could find Gigliotti who had passed out from the intense pain of his wounds. Later, I told Lt. Pultz where he should be, and Dan, walking over, and on dead NVA bodies, located Gig and brought him into the then 1st Platoon's defensive perimeter. I was so relieved that Gig had not been either killed, or taken as a prisoner. He was badly wounded! Not everyone we brought back up the hill survived their wounds. Multiple wounds with arterial bleeding are so difficult to control especially, while being carried over the shoulder. We quickly, ran out of compression bandages from the repeated mortar shells falling on us.


We completed the assault having now lost Al Anter, Frank Thomas, Jack Loweranitis, and Wallace Williams, and then fighting our way back up to Top Rogers' location. We had so many wounded, and I wasn't even aware of John and Doc Braun's situation, that is, until Doc crawls up in front of me, with his shoulder and back gapping open. Doc told me John was dead. That news shocked me for I knew if Doc could pull him to safety, he would have survived his horrific wound. Next, Doc had to be tended to for he had lost too much blood already. I used one of the bandages from our dead. We all did what we could that night for our suffering wounded. Next Mike Baker, my radio operator, and I were able to locate Doc Chuck Dockery, bloodied from head to toe, and pull him into our briar patch. Doc Dockery had survived being shot 6 times, destroying his legs. He was still wanting to help other wounded Marines. Words just cannot describe the affection my entire company feels for our Corpsmen!


March 30th will always be so significant to those of us who were at Getlin's Corner, just as every other battle date is where brothers died. It is a date we remember with fond reverence for our departed brothers.


A quote from Justin Cronin says  "As long as we remember a person, they're not really gone. Their thoughts, their feelings, their memories, they become a part of us."


So, we their brotherhood, grieve their passing, for we knew these men better than some can imagine. We saw them at their best, never wavering from their mission, never betraying the confidence in their oath, to one another.


Today we remember these 15 Marines who were, and remain, our brothers.


"A man is not dead while his name is still spoken. We are only truly gone when we disappear from the memories of those who loved us."


Semper Fidelis,
Jack Riley

Just read a few books on LRRP's. So much respect for those guys after reading their history. Big clanking brass ones on anyone that did that.

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Jack on the bottom right is whose stories I share who served with my dad.