Comments (40)
Peacekeepers In 1983 President Ronald Reagan send a Marine battalion to be part of the multinational peace keeping force.-during that service 268 Marines,sailors and soldiers were kill during a terrorist attack many people has forget about it to keep their sacrife a life we need to remember them pease dont forget thoise breaves service man and sometimes when you pray keep in migh they are heroes for ever | ||||
Eulogy of WWII veteran George Samuel Coon was born in Henry County, Indiana, July 23, 1926 to Minnie Hatfield and William Coon. He was the oldest of six. Mary Margaret, Bertha Marie, William Edward, Maxie Joan, Clyde Clinton all survive.He was raised mostly in Jennings County attending Scipio Township School graduating in 1944. Before going into the service in 1945, he worked in Muncie at Goodyear making tracks for Army vehicles. While in the service, he trained in Oklahoma, Kansas and Camp Adair, Oregon. He shipped out to Japan for invasion in July from Long Beach, California. The atomic bombs turned them toward the Phillipines. He worked several jobs in the Phillipines including serving Major George Mopes Quincy on Guinea shortline planes. Returning home under the Golden Gate Bridge to Fort Sheridan, Illinoia and to be discharged. Back to Muncie, Indiana for sometime then vet school and agriculture in Jennings County. He farmed the rest of his life, some with horse drawn equipment and some with tractors. He retired from ITT in 1976 having held many positions. He married Gail Burge in North Vernon, Indiana, July 19, 1970. They travelled in Europe, United States, and Canada. They enjoyed reading and gardening. George died May 4, 2009 in Indianapolis after open-heart surgery. Cremation of remains was chosen. | ||||
Thank you for the Memorial Service at the Capitol I served in the US Army from 1959 - 1962. Most of the time was spent in Verdun, France. I served on the Honor Guard/Color Guard at American Cemeteries in France. We always appreciate the Memorial Day Service from Washington when the emphasis is on the memory of those who served, are serving and thanking them. You have been doing a great job with your programs for the last several years. Thank you for the reminder of those who are struggling from injuries. | ||||
my friend My best friend in the world whom i named my son after is serving his 3rd tour in a war zone. He was in desert storm with me, and been to iraq for 2 years and is now in afganastand(xspelling where is it anyway lol). I miss my friend and have so much respect for him. He has done his share but is not done yet. Not bad Decker for a 45 year old. be safe and keep your head on a swivel. Did I mention the IED's he has survived. Ask him about it. it's personal. Thanks to all who have/is/will serve. by the way great memorial day show. | ||||
FALLEN KOREAN WAR BUDDY WE WERE IN A BAD SITUATION AT KUMWHA , KOREA. WE WERE IN THE 25TH DIV. 69TH FIELD ARTILLERY. MY BUDDY ED DOBECK (FROM NEW BRITAIN , CONN) WENT RESCUE A SOLDIER WHO WAS WOUNDED EITHER BY A LAND MINE OR MORTAR FIRE. BOTH CPL ED DOBECK AND THE SOLDIER DIED THERE THAT TERRIBLE DAY. I WANTED TO SUBMIT THIS TRIBUTE SO SOMEBODY-SOMEWHERE WILL KNOW OF THIS AND ED DOBECK WILL BE REMEMBERED. | ||||
Shepherd On June 13th 1944 my father, Sgt. Dewey Shepherd landed on Omaha beach at the town of St Maire Eglise, with the 79th Division, 315th regiment. His was a mortar squad. On June 19th the regiment engaged in their first battle in Cherbourg and my father was wounded. This was tended to at the time and he returned to his division. As the division progressed thru the hedgerows and farm fields of this area they came under heavy fire from a machine gun nest. After being pinned down and taking casualties for sometime, the officer in charge told my father to find a volunteer to try to get rid of the machine gun nest. My father responded by telling the officer that he would do the best he could. Crawling to an area where he could get the best vantage he waited for the right moment to cross a clearing. The gunner on the machine gun had a pattern going and when dad figured it out he tried to cross the clearing. A sudden change by the gunner and my father was spotted and shot. Another burst by the gunner to make sure he was down and out then back to his main focus. My father laid there for a little while but was able to radio in and direct mortar fire with total success. He had taken over 15 bullets to his body and shrapnel that took part of his chest. He was severely wounded and was taken back to England for extended treatment. My father received two Purple Hearts and the Silver Star for his bravery and his sacrifice. Dewey Shepherd of McKee Kentucky was a hero among hero's. He passed away on July 4th, 1986 and received military honors at his funeral. | ||||
Thank you Thank you for such an uplifting concert. Nothing can match the treasure of common memories of trials endured together. I apprecated the high tone of excellance in all your presentations. The best ever. | ||||
War zone Korea/Vietnam I enlisted in the US Army in Jul 1949 at age 18, took basic training at Fort Dix NJ and was further assigned to Fort Bliss TX for Anti Aircrat Training with "D" Btry 21st AAA Battalion. In June of 1950 the Korean War erupted and we were all extended by one year on our enlistments. Our Battalion received orders for deployment to the far east (Japan)in Sep 1950, we went by Troop train to the port of SanFrancisco and Troop ship to Camp Zama Japan. We stayed in Japan (Trained for combat) for about 50 days and was dispatched by Ship to the Port of Pusan Korea in late Dec 1950. By that time I was a Staff Sergeant (Section leader) and our Unit was ready for combat when we landed In Pusan where the allied forces had been pushed to the Pusan perminter. It was winter time and what I saw there was not pretty, I saw North Korean and chinese POW's guarded by South Korean soldiers, being beaten when they couldn't continue to work because of the extreme cold conditions. The only protection they had from the elements were a Poncho covering their almost bare bodies. This was my introduction to the perils and evils of war. I saw this thru this cold dreary city swarming with Military and destitute civilians. I knew from that time forward this would be a challenge for our troops to survive the frigid cold conditions against a resolute enemy. General Ridgeway was the Korean Allied Commander and his orders were to breakout and push the enemy back to North Korea. Our Battalion was assigned to the 25th Infantry Div and our Brty to the 24th Regiment (25th Div), at that time the only All Black regiment in the Army. Remember at that time the Military was segregated, we had all Black units commanded mostly by white officers, I later learned that the color of our blood was the same..We were equiped with Quad 50 Cal Machine guns monted on Half Track vehicles, it was a devastating weapon used in close support of the Infantry. Our mission to support the 24th Regiment in taking the objectives in the rugged mountain terrain of Korea. We quickly learned the Black troops were good soldiers and fought died as courageously as any american soldier. I was wounded in February 1951 and was attended to by a Black Medic from the 24th Regiment, I was evacuated but returned the next day to be with my troops. I learned a very important lesson in life, segregation is misguiged and the Black soldier was an American soldier with the same wants and needs as all other soldiers. President Truman did take action to stop segragation in the Military and I continued My Military career for 30 years retiring in 1979 as a Chief Warrant Officer (W4). The lessons I learned in Korea stayed with me throughout my Military career and later in my Civilian Defense Department career. This is a great country that is willing to change, we can correct things that are wrong, this makes us a special place, no place on earth like it. God bless this shining symbol of liberty and freedom, I love this land and its people. | ||||
My Poppy Dear Poppy,I remember you as the loving grandpa that always let me change the time on the clock to see the cucu bird, for letting me win at Slap Jack, and telling me bible stories. At just four years old you were my hero for those reasons. Now that I am older I know about your service to our country as a sailor in the Navy. You are not only my hero but a hero to many others. Thank you for touching my life and those around you! I love and miss you. Love, Kennedy | ||||
Lost at Sea My brother, SSGT Robert D. Amsden was a 21 year old Flight Engineer on a C-124A Aircraft that went down in the North Atlantic on 22 March 1951. The aircraft was assigned to the 2nd Stragic Support Squadron.Two small pieces were found 200 miles apart. To this day I really don't have any idea of what really happened as so often in the cases of lost Aircraft. He did not dye in a battle but dieded as my hero during the Korean war. MSGT Keith R Amsden USAF Retired. | ||||
Kirkman I grew up in a family of Navy and Army heroes who taught me to love God and my country and they instilled a stong faith in my counrty in me. I am honored to have a child of seven that I can pass these values to. On this Memorial Day I want to share an experience that touched my heart of a hero of mine I never knew but is in my mind and heart daily.In September 2006 I was returning from a trip to Orlando when it was announced my flight was going to be late. Several of us standing near the counter listened as a man grumbled to the US Airways representative, Great I just want to go home!" The woman at the counter said, Sir it will just be a slight delay, they are bringing home a soldier from Iraq." That is when we looked out the giant windows and saw the plane. He was returning a casuality of war. It was the saddest and most touching scene that I have ever witnessed. As we all watched from the airport windows, the hearse pulled onto the tarmac. Six soldiers in military dress greens unloaded his American Flag draped coffin. His poor mother's knees buckled a bit as this event unfolded and her husband held her steady and gave her comfort. The entire crowd observing this beautiful and heatbreaking scene became hushed. Looking through my own tears, I saw them in the eyes of others around me. Many whispered prayers as this patriot was brought back to the United States, a hero that paid the ultimate price for freedom. Before the hearse door was closed, the corner of his casket draped in majestic red and white stripes could be seen. A slight breeze caught the flags corner and it waived ever so gently as if to say, "goodbye" as if being called home to God. As the procession pulled away, my heart wept and swelled with pride at the same time. I never knew this soldier or his name, but I knew his valor and bravery. He will forever be a hero to me- my unknown soldier. Rindy Kirkman Kannapolis, NC | ||||
Veteran of Vietnam I enlisted in the military when I graduated from High School, reason being...it was the right thing to do. The year was 1967..while others were going off to college I choose to join the Navy. Little did I know how difficult it would be to call home..mom..Im leaving for Vietnam ! It was a harsh reality - all the belief's I had as a student in a Catholic school were deminished..it was kill or be killed. My life changed - I would never be the same. At 60 years old today there are still the dark nights..alone..the thoughts that never go away..feeling lonely and depressed. Certain songs bring me back to Vietnam...where I was and who I was with. The men I served with were like brothers..we would look at the stars..someway it took us home. We would openly cry at times but for the most part..keep it buried inside our soul. I never got use to the "body counts"..for the most part never discussed it with anyone..I knew there were children..innocent children..it was war and that was a part of the war. When my tour was over I landed into a psy ward..I had a very hard time...I was overwhelmed and unable to communicate..I was hard on myself..I was lost and it was a harsh journey back. I couldnt understand why I was alive and friends died. I hate the dark nights..I fight sleep as sometimes I dream of the nights I spent in Vietnam. Christmas and "silent night" will never be the same..for some reason it just didnt mix..cease fire for 24 hours and then back to the guns blasting. I hurt for the men coming home injured and broken..the warrior and hero whose life was taken..I salute them !! I am a changed man - my life will never be the same. I pray to God to help myself and the other Veterans and especially the ones that paid the ultimate sacrafice. War is war..the walls are full of the dead and we must always remember their sacrafice. Bless them and may they rest in peace!! Jim | ||||
Carry the tradition I am from a war-fighting family. From as far back as the Revolutionary War, my family has worn the uniform of our country proudly. My father served in WWII and I served in Desert Storm. I was groomed from childhood to enter"the family business" and to me there was no other option. I was commissioned at 19 into the Army Reserves where I spent 11 years before returning to school and becoming a registered nurse on Active Duty. My time in Saudi Arabia was an experience I will never forget, not just for the life changing trauma of war, but also for the knowledge I had that I had to be there to keep my own country free. I was able to serve a total of 23 years and retired just recently. One of the things that has really helped me recover from my wartime experiences is working at the VA as a nurse. IT is especially important that I am working in Mental Health with veterans who are coming back with the invisible wounds of war. I feel at home with my fellow veterans and know that they understand what my life was just as I understand theirs. I thank my fellow veterans and our current servicemen and women for their service and hope that i will be able to make them feel at home when they do return. I am honored to be a veteran of the United States Military.Karen M. Wall, RN MAJ, USAR, Ret | ||||
Dale Alan Belanger I write this for my first Cousin, Dale Alan Belanger. Dale was an only child brought up in Pittsfield, Maine and he now resides in the cemetary there. Dale was in the Army in the Viet Nam Conflict. We were lucky to have Dale return home with a hearing dissability after his term was up. He never actually talked about the War a lot but we got together and went to see the movie Platoon together when it came out. It was a wake up call for me. He told me a few things that evening and although I had worried about him during his time in Nam but I felt ashamed that I had been so ignorant. I had gotten married in March of 1969 and had my daughter in September of 1970. My life was in N.H. with my new family and Vietnam was there but in the background. I watched many boys I went to school with go to that war right after granduation and a lot of them got to come home but a few, like Mike Sucie (the President of the Senior Class before mine) came home in a flag covered casket. We were indeed blessed to have Dale back home.Dale died of Agent Orange in 1994. I watched my Aunt and Uncle grieve over their only son and we all experienced his pain and suffering and finally death in a VA Hospital at Togus, Maine. My Auntie (whom I feel her grief helped her leave us a few years after Dale) shared how his tumor made his head swollen and the terrible, unbearable and frequent headaches Dale had before his death. He came home but the war was still with him just ticking away waiting to germinate. Sad. My Grandfather served in WWI, my Father in WW2 and Dale in The Vietnam Conflict. I now have three Grandson's (age 13, 7 and 2). I don't see an immediate end to the War we are involved in at present and hope we can help the people over there and come back with our heads held high. I pray this war will end soon so that these three boys can serve our county if they wish in a peaceful time. My seven year old grandson wants to be a Marine. We will be there for them in war or peacetime. Thank you for hearing me out. I wanted to mention my cousin, Dale, my Grandfather, George and my Father Elias; all in the U.S. Army, all in the same cemetary. God Bless all our military at home and at war and thank you all for your protection and service. Some of the names our boys were subjected to during the Vietnam Conflict should be forgiven but from then on we need to honor our young boys and men for their courage to keep our homes safe. I have been to the Memorial in D.C. My thoughts are that we need to add the names of our sons, fathers, brothers, cousins and friends who died of Agent Orange as well. God Bless America and OUR Military. Thank You. | ||||
SSgt Frank B Dunford Frank was my uncle he served in Vietnam from 65-67. My Grandma (his mom)and my mom and all his brothers and other sister still miss him today. He was paratrooper and tunnel rat, he served in the 173rd airbourne. His was on point with his squad when they were ambushed near PHU BON south Vietnam. He will always be remembered for giving the ultimate sacrifice along with all his other fellow soldiers past and present. | ||||
Loss of Two Good Men Every year at Memorial Day I think of that day in July of 1970 where we lost 2 good men in B Company, 44th Engineer Batallion in South Korea. The monsoon rains had been raining nonstop for almost a week and many road crossings were actually fords unline here where bridges make travel much safer.A vehicle had been stalled or flooded due to the high water and a "rescue team" of sorts of a lieutenant and at least about a dozen men and some engineer equipment and trucks left for the sight where the flooding stalled the vehicle. When they got there they didn't have much of a plan but they did have enthusiasm. Two soldiers who were standing on a flatbed trailer lost their balance and fall off the truck into a swift running small river and it wasn't until several days later that the bodies were recovered. Their names were Truly George, from GA and George Morrison from MD. | ||||
commanding brave young men I arrived in Vietnam in the fall of 1971, fresh from a year and a half tour in Germany in the 1st Infantry Division. After a brief orientation, I was given my orders, handed my gear, loaded onto a helicopter and flown out to the mountains west of Da Nang, a reluctant warrior whose mission was to command 35 young men who were equally as reluctant.As the chopper landed on the mountainside, I noticed several soldiers running toward us. "They're happy to see me," I thought. It didn't take long to realize they were rushing to unload rations and mail from the Huey. I slid out rather ingloriously, stepped onto the skid and, holding onto my helmet and struggling to get my rucksack properly adjusted, asked the first GI I encountered to take me to Sgt. Garlic, the platoon sergeant. Sgt. Mike Garlic, a three-tour combat veteran, was to become my right hand, an experienced and tested NCO upon whom I learned to lean. He extended his hand. "Welcome, sir. We've been expecting you." "Sgt. Garlic," I started, "I've spent the last year and a half commanding mortar and recon platoons in Germany. I'm going to rely on you, especially in my first week or so in the bush. I trust your judgment and your abilities. I'll make the decisions, but I'll look to you for input." "Roger that, L.T." It was in that moment I realized I'd been given a new moniker. Men didn't salute or call you sir in the jungle, because Charlie liked to target officers. L.T. was fine with me. After the Huey had been unloaded and our position secured again, I began to meet the men of my platoon. They were a diverse bunch who had little in common except for a shared mission and a shared hardship, and the fact that virtually every one of them had been drafted, as had I. This assemblage of soldiers was a cross-section of America -- every corner of the country, every ethnicity, every political persuasion. There were Southerners such as Jimmy from Alabama and our machine gunner, Mike, from Louisiana. There were Northerners like Bob, from Pennsylvania, and another grunt we all knew simply as Linebarger. There were even two E-5s from California who'd been in graduate school. Our mission was to disrupt the supply caravans that traveled the Ho Chi Minh Trail from North Vietnam into the south. We patrolled each day, setting up ambushes in areas of suspected activity. Before dark we circled into our night defensive perimeter and braced for attack. When we moved each day we had to cut a trail through the jungle undergrowth. Yet, as difficult as were our circumstances, these young men went about their duties without grumbling or complaining. We knew how much we needed to hang together for survival. For the next several months the first platoon of Alpha Company, First of the 46th Infantry, slogged through the jungles, slept in two-man defensive positions, engaged the enemy and battled the elements -- monsoon rains, snakes and leeches. As we patrolled together, fought side by side, and for three days each month partied together in the rear, we grew to be a unit, and I grew to admire and respect every young man in my command. I felt honored to lead them. One episode in particular reminds me of the indomitable spirit of the American fighting man. Early one October morning, we were all startled by the thud of an anti-personnel mine, then realized with horror that it was Bob Maggs, our radio operator, who had caught the trip wire. Bob died before we could get him evacuated by helicopter. This 19-year-old soldier left behind a wife he'd hardly gotten to know before he shipped out to the other side of the world. After we regrouped, I began asking for volunteers to carry the platoon radio, one of the toughest and most dangerous assignments. I was amazed by the number of volunteers. "I'll hump (carry) the radio, L.T." If I heard it once, I heard it a dozen times. These were brave young men with whom I was privileged to serve. They were heroes. Represented by men like Bob Maggs and 58,000 other names on a granite wall in Washington, along with thousands more who came home to a less-than-grateful nation, they were and are America's finest. I salute you -- and every veteran of every era. Welcome home. | ||||
Tribute to my brother I am an 87-year old veteran of World War II, but my service in the Army was uneventful. I was drafted into the Army in October 1942 and sent to Camp Campbell, Ky for basic training with the 12th Armored Division. My brother, 1st Lt. Edwin L. Whitefield, who was four years older, volunteered for the Army Air Corps and served as a navigator on several B-25 bombers in North Africa and in England with the 8th Air Force. While I envied him for being in the more glamorous arm of our military services, the good Lord must have had something else in mind for me, for my brother lost his life in February 1944--shot down over Germany. After three years as an enlisted man, I was commissioned and returned home in 1946 wearing some of the uniforms which belonged to my bother. I had retrieved these from a kind English family who had befriended my brother and kept some of his dress uniforms which he wore between missions. Enroute home from Germany, I got permission and visited Edwin's grave in a civilian cemetery in Bitburg, Germany. I stayed in the Army Reserves for 20 years and retired as a Major, but I want to pay tribute to my brother, Edwin, who paid the ultimate sacrifice, and to my parents who suffered the loss of a son. As a Christian, I have to feel that they have been reunited in His heavenly kingdom. May God bless them and the United States of America is my constant prayer.Clarence E. Whitefield, Chapel Hill, NC | ||||
Tribute to my brother I am an 87-year old veteran of World War II, but my service in the Army was uneventful. I was drafted into the Army in October 1942 and sent to Camp Campbell, Ky for basic training with the 12th Armored Division. My brother, 1st Lt. Edwin L. Whitefield, who was four years older, volunteered for the Army Air Corps and served as a navigator on several B-25 bombers in North Africa and in England with the 8th Air Force. While I envied him for being in the more glamorous arm of our military services, the good Lord must have had something else in mind for me, for my brother lost his life in February 1944--shot down over Germany. After three years as an enlisted man, I was commissioned and returned home in 1946 wearing some of the uniforms which belonged to my bother. I had retrieved these from a kind English family who had befriended my brother and kept some of his dress uniforms which he wore between missions. Enroute home from Germany, I got permission and visited Edwin's grave in a civilian cemetery in Bitburg, Germany. I stayed in the Army Reserves for 20 years and retired as a Major, but I want to pay tribute to my brother, Edwin, who paid the ultimate sacrifice, and to my parents who suffered the loss of a son. As a Christian, I have to feel that they have been reunited in His heavenly kingdom. May God bless them and the United States of America is my constant prayer.Clarence E. Whitefield, Chapel Hill, NC | ||||
niece of John C. Miller MILLER, JOHN CLIFTON - age 95, of Knoxville, TN, died Friday, April 17, 2009. He was born September 7, 1913. John served in the U.S. Air Force and U.S. Army Medical Corps during WWII. John amputated another soldiers arm, saving his life. For his heroic actions, he received The Silver Star for Gallantry. He also received 2 Bronze Stars, The Good Conduct Medal, and The Distinguished Unit Badge.Loved and missed because of The sunshine he had in his smile. The peace of mind you found in his touch. The love you heard in his voice. The comfort of being in his presence. A Faithful Servant Of God. A True Friend To Man. Beautiful soul into glory gone. Beautiful life with thy crown all won. God giveth thee rest. | ||||
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