2/503d Vietnam - Corregidor

2/503d Vietnam 

Newsletter 

For the men, and their families, of the 2nd Battalion, 173d Airborne Brigade (Sep) ~ We Try Harder! 

Contact: rto173d@cfl.rr.com See all issues: http://www.firebase319.org/2bat/news.php May 2010 ~ Issue 15 

~ 2/503d Photo of the Month ~ 

No DEROS Alpha trooper, RTO Don Anderson, catching some zzz’s in August 1966. 

So, you wanna be a paratrooper, huh? 

Note the poncho liner in the upper right of the photo. Looks kinda like Charlie. Photo by Col. Robert Guy, 2/503d 

2/503d VIETNAM Newsletter / May 2010 - Issue 15 

Page 1 of 62

Agent Orange Retro 

Claims Allowed 

Tom Philpott 

Military Update 

New Agent Orange Rule to Allow 

Retro Claims by 86,000 

About 86,000 Vietnam War veterans, their surviving 

spouses or estates will be eligible for retroactive 

disability compensation from the Department of 

Veterans Affairs -- an average of 11.4 years for veterans 

and 9.6 years for survivors -- under a draft VA rule to 

expand by three the number of diseases presumed caused 

by herbicide exposure in the war. 

The 86,000 are beneficiaries who can reopen previously 

denied claims for these conditions: ischemic heart 

disease, Parkinson's disease and chronic B-cell blood 

cancers including hairy cell leukemia. But another 

29,000 claims are expected to be approved this year for 

Vietnam veterans suffering from these diseases but 

applying for benefits for the first time. 

The projected cost of this dramatic expansion of claims 

linked to Agent Orange and other defoliants deployed 

four decades ago is $13.6 billion this fiscal year and 

$42.2 billion over 10 years. VA plans to hire 1772 new 

claims processors, starting this October, to be able to 

handle these claims "without significantly degrading the 

processing of the non-presumptive workload.” 

In the proposed rule published March 25 in the Federal 

Register, VA officials explained that Secretary Eric 

Shinseki has cut the usual 60-day public comment period 

by half "to promote rapid action” on these claims. 

When a final rule is published, soon after April 26, VA 

claim offices across the country can begin making 

payments. Veterans with these diseases will need to 

show they set foot in Vietnam during the war. Those 

who served aboard ship just off the coast remain 

ineligible. 

John Maki, assistant national service director for 

Disabled American Veterans, said DAV was glad to see 

the comment period cut to 30 days. Otherwise, the draft 

regulation contains no surprises. "It basically is going to 

take those three conditions and just add them to 

disabilities already listed as presumptive diseases for 

Agent Orange,” Maki said. 

One surprise still might be the thoroughness of the draft 

rule's analysis of the beneficiary populations and the 

costs facing the department from this wave of claims for 

both retroactive payments and new benefits. Adding 

ischemic heart disease to the list of presumptive Agent 

Orange illnesses is by far the most significant part of the 

new rule, accounting for 82 percent of additional 

expected payments to beneficiaries. 

The rule defines ischemic health disease as a condition 

causing inadequate supply of blood and oxygen to the 

myocardium, the middle and thickest layer of the heart 

wall. "IHD" can include, but is not limited to, acute, 

subacute and old myocardial infarction; atherosclerotic 

cardiovascular disease including coronary artery disease 

(or spasm) and coronary bypass surgery, and stable, 

unstable and Prinzmetal’s angina. 

Because IHD is a heart disease it "does not include 

hypertension or peripheral manifestations of 

arteriosclerosis such as peripheral vascular disease 

or stroke,” the draft regulation explains. 

Of 86,000 beneficiaries eligible for retroactive claims, 

VA estimates that nearly 70,000 of them are living 

Vietnam veterans, their average age now 63. Of those, 

62,200 previously were denied compensation for IHD, 

5400 were denied for B-cell leukemia and 2300 for 

Parkinson’s disease. 

About 53,000 who previously filed claims for these 

diseases already are receiving VA compensation for 

other service-related diseases. Of those, roughly 8350 

are rated 100-percent disabled and therefore might not 

be eligible for retroactive pay. 

VA assumes that veterans with Parkinson's disease or for 

B-cell leukemia will be awarded a 100-percent disability 

ratings. The average rating for ischemic heart diseases is 

expected to be 60 percent. 

In calculating VA costs from this change, VA assumes 

that 80 percent of the eligible population will apply for 

benefits and 100 percent of those who do will be 

approved. But eligible vets and suvivors must file 

claims to get paid; nothing will happen automatically. 

To file claims online visit: 

http://vabenefits.vba.va.gov/vonapp/main.asp. Veterans 

without a computer can call a toll-free helpline at 1-800- 

749-8387. (continued....) 


Page 2 of 62

VA maintains a directory of veterans' service 

organizations with trained staff to help in filing claims. 

The website: http://www1.va.gov/vso/. Many state, 

county and local governments also have personnel to 

help. Find information on these agencies at: 

http://www.va.gov/statedva.htm. 

VA also expects many inelgible veterans to file claims. 

They will be found ineligible because they can't show 

they ever set foot in Vietnam though they suffer from 

one of the qualifying diseases. Many claims will be 

filed by veterans with hyptertension but those will be 

rejected because that condition is not a "heart disease" 

under the VA draft regulation. 

In total, VA expects claims volume from presumptive 

Agent Orange diseases to hit 159,000 this year and to 

exceed 270,000 by fiscal 2019. 

Maki noted that entitlement to benefits only occurs with 

final publication of the regulation. Retroactive payments 

usually will be made back to the date a claim was filed 

for a presumptive disease. 

"It is possible, since this is a librealized law, that 

somebody may be able to get the retroactive date 

[moved back] to one year prior to the effective date in 

the regulation, if they can show they had the claimed 

condition prior to that year," Maki said. 

The growing list of Agent Orange diseases stems of a 

court case, Nehmer v. Department of Veterans Affairs, 

filed in 1986. The class action lawsuit won by veterans, 

and reinforced by legislation, requires VA to direct the 

National Academy of Sciences to report every two years 

on any positive association between new diseases and 

exposure to herbicides in Vietnam. 

In 2007, the Bush administration went to court to 

challenge the legal need for NAS studies on presumptive 

AO diseases to continue. It lost. The NAS reports are to 

continue through Oct. 1, 2014, with the possility that 

more diseases will be found to have an assocition with 

herbicide exposure. 

To comment, e-mail milupdate@aol.com, write to 

Military Update, P.O. Box 231111, Centreville, VA, 

20120-1111 or visit: www.militaryupdate.com. 

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

Note: I strongly urge you NOT to file your claim online 

or without representation by the DAV or other 

non-VA veteran’s organization. Ed 

~ EARLY DAYS AT CAMP ZINN ~ 

The Mess Hall was outdoors under the trees and the 

tables we ate from were long pieces of PSP (Perforated 

Steel Plating used for building temporary landing strips), 

supported between two trees. We ate while standing 

with our mess-kits resting on the PSP. Next to the mess 

area stood a large General Purpose tent used to house the 

kitchen. The chow line ran past the rolled up side of the 

tent where the KP’s served the meals. After eating, we 

cleaned our mess kits and utensils in three large, shiny 

metal garbage cans. One was filled with boiling soapy 

water and the other two were filled with boiling rinse 

water. All were heated by diesel-fired portable heaters 

each complete with it’s own smoke stack. Occasionally 

the heater would take in too much fuel and a little 

internal explosion would occur which would cause the 

smokestack to emit a puff of black smoke. 

I was leaning against one of the PSP “tables” eating my 

noon meal when I heard a Huey helicopter in the 

distance heading in our direction. I thought “This is 

great; it’s going to fly right over us!” I would get a 

good view of it! 

As the chopper passed directly overhead and I’m 

standing there admiring it and looking the door gunner 

right in the face, the field stove belched out a big, black 

puff of smoke. 

The door gunner in the helicopter must have had a 

healthy sense of self preservation because he 

immediately swung his M-60 machine gun around and 

opened fire on the smoke – and us. 

Suddenly, neat little shafts of sunlight shot through the 

walls of the G.P. tent as bullets passed through the 

canvas and small geysers of dirt and leaves fluffed up 

around our feet. 

Maybe twenty rounds were fired before the gunner 

realized that we were friendly troops. It was over in an 

instant and miraculously only our feelings were hurt. 

This I copied from the movie The Four Feathers: 

“… those who have traveled far, to fight in 

foreign lands, know that the soldier's greatest 

comfort is to have his friends close at hand. In 

the heat of battle it ceases to be an idea for 

which we fight, or a flag. Rather we fight for the 

man on our left, and we fight for the man on our 

right. And when armies are scattered and the 

empires fall away, all that remains is the 

memory of those precious moments that we 

spent side by side.” 

Jim Bethea 

HHC, 2/503d, ‘65/’66 


Page 3 of 62

CHAPLAIN’S 

CORNER 

STARTING OVER: 

GETTING A FRESH 

CHANCE AT LIFE 

Dr. Ronald Reese Smith 

1LT, FO, B/2/503d, 3/319 th 

ronaldreesesmith@gmail.com 

When I was in the eighth grade, about to graduate from 

junior high school to high school, Mr. Taylor, our 

Assistant Principal, gave our whole class a speech. He 

said we were each going to arrive in high school the next 

Fall with a record wiped clean. None of the old 

teacher’s remarks which had accumulated in our files 

would go with us to “tip off” our new teachers. “If you 

want to be a totally new people next year,” he said, “you 

can.” And then he turned to a big brawny blondeheaded 

kid in our class and said, “That includes you too, 

Stanley.” 

Stanley was our class "Charlie Brown." He was always 

in trouble for something – smarting off, fighting, 

sneaking a smoke behind the music room; always 

something! To the teachers and parents alike, Stanley 

was the kind of person most likely NOT to succeed – 

most likely to head for trouble -- a dubious honor. 

We knew that if there were trouble, Stanley would get 

blamed. It never occurred to us that all that could 

instantly change. It never occurred to us that no one 

would know the “old Stanley!” 

It wasn’t long into the new Fall until Stanley obviously 

failed again. He was sent to the principal’s office at the 

high school. That was an event that was to be repeated 

dozens, maybe hundreds of times, during the next four 

years. The fresh start had not worked – at least not for 

Stanley. 

You know – somehow I doubt that Stanley truly got a 

fresh start. Oh, his records were erased, but it wasn’t 

forgotten. That track record was carved into every 

cerebral body cavity of the student body. All the rest of 

us knew what to expect from Stanley, even if the new 

teachers did not. A fresh start would have to erase not 

only the official record, but all those built-up 

expectations of trouble that existed in the minds of 

Stanley and his friends. Without that, Stanley didn’t 

stand a chance. 

Wouldn’t it have been wonderful if Stanley’s record 

could have been erased and forgotten? When Jesus 

Christ died on Calvary’s cross, the burden of our sin was 

taken off of us and placed on Jesus. 

When we come and acknowledge 

our sin before God, when we call 

sin what He calls sin, when we 

confess our sin and ask God to 

forgive us of our sin – He does so! 

And in that forgiveness, He chooses 

not to remember it again. That does 

not mean that God has some kind of cosmic dementia or 

Alzheimers. It’s not that God cannot remember, it is that 

God chooses not to remember. When God forgives us, 

He does not expect it to be brought up again. Our next 

sin will be treated like our very first. In Jesus Christ we 

truly get a fresh start. In Jesus Christ, God gives us 

another chance. 

On New Year’s Day, 1929, Georgia Tech played the 

University of California in the Rose Bowl. In that game 

a man named Roy Reigals recovered a fumble for 

California. Somehow, he became confused and 

disoriented and started running 65 yards – in the wrong 

direction. One of his teammates, Benny Low, 

outdistanced him and downed him, just before he scored 

for the other team. When California attempted to punt, 

Georgia Tech blocked the kick, and scored a safety, the 

ultimate margin of victory. 

That strange play came in the first half. Everyone who 

was watching the game was asking the same question: 

“What will Coach Nibbs Price do with Roy Reigals in 

the second half?” 

The men filed off the field and went into the dressing 

room. They sat down on the benches and on the floor – 

all but Roy Reigals. Roy put his blanket around his 

shoulders, sat down in a corner, put his face in his hands 

and cried like a baby. 

If you’ve ever played football, you know that a coach 

usually has a great deal to say to the team during the 

half-time. That day, Coach Price was quiet. No doubt 

he was trying to decide what to do with Roy Reigals. 

Then, the timekeeper came in and announced that there 

were three minutes before playing time. Coach Price 

looked at the team and simply said: “Men, the same 

team that played the first half, will start the second.” 

The players got up and started out – all but Roy 

Reigals. He did not budge. The coach looked back and 

called to him again; still he did not move. Nibbs Price 

walked over to where Roy Reigals sat and said, “Roy, 

didn’t you hear me? The same team that played the first 

half will start the second.” 

(continued....) 


Page 4 of 62

Then, Roy Reigals looked up and his cheeks were wet 

with a strong man’s tears. “Coach,” he said, “I can’t do 

it. I’ve ruined you; I’ve ruined the University of 

California; I’ve ruined myself. I couldn’t go and face 

that crowd in that stadium to save my life.” 

Then Nibbs Price reached out and put his hand on Roy 

Reigals’ shoulder and said to him, “Roy, get up and go 

on back; the game is only half over.” 

Roy Reigals went back and those Georgia Tech men will 

tell you they have never seen anyone play football as 

Roy Reigals did the second half of that game. 

When I read that story, deep inside, I said, “What a 

coach!” And when I read the words of our Lord Jesus 

Christ, from that Roman execution rack outside of 

Jerusalem’s wall, "Father, forgive them for they do not 

know what they are doing," I say, “What a God! What a 

Savior.” 

You and I take the ball of life and run in the wrong 

direction; we stumble and fall and we are so ashamed of 

ourselves that we never want to try again. Then God 

comes and bends over us in the person of His Son, and 

says to us: “Get up, go on back, the game is only half 

over.” 

“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they 

are doing.” That is the gospel of grace. That is the 

gospel of the second chance, and the third chance, and 

the five hundredth chance – as we need it. 

Whatever it is that burdens you and troubles you, know 

that there is nothing that you or I have ever done, or ever 

will do, that will separate us from the love of God in 

Jesus Christ. None of us have ever done anything so bad 

that we cannot come to God. And there are none of us, 

no matter how high and lofty our service, that do not 

need to come to God. 

Marcus Aurelius, the great Roman emperor and strong 

saint, used to say to himself every morning: “Today you 

will meet all kinds of unpleasant people; they will hurt 

you and injure you and insult you. But, you cannot live 

like that; you know better, for you are men in whom the 

Spirit of God dwells.” 

Again, this is the gospel of grace. God gives us a new, 

fresh start, a new beginning, every day, every moment 

when we agree with Him and call sin what he calls sin. 

And because of that, we are forgiven. And because of 

that, we have a second chance. Do you need a fresh 

start? God is in the business of new beginnings and He 

will give one, everytime you ask Him! 

El Tee Ron 

1LT, FO, B/2/503d, 3/319 th 

"Gone too Soon" 

Mr. Ronald Allen Tucker, 

passed away on April 4, 2010 

of an apparent heart attack in 

Tallahassee, Florida. 

"Ronnie," formerly of 

Pittsburgh, PA, was a 

Vietnam War veteran and a 

member of the 173rd 

Airborne Brigade. He 

served from 1965-1967. 

During his service he received two Overseas Service 

Bars, Parachutist Badge, Vietnam Service Medal, 

National Defense Service Medal, Combat Infantryman's 

Badge, Purple Heart, Vietnamese Campaign Medal 

w/Device, Marksman's Badge (Rifle M-14), and a 

Bronze Star appurtenant to Parachutist Badge. 

He was a retired Lieutenant from the State of 

Pennsylvania, Department of Corrections. As a retiree, 

he was an avid fisherman and traveler. He loved tennis 

and was fortunate enough to have attended two US Open 

Tennis Tournaments. 

At the time of his death, Ronnie was living in 

Tallahassee with his wife, Debi Tucker and his 

grandchildren Kevin & Alyssa who adored and loved 

him deeply. 

Ronnie, rest in peace. Airborne brother. 


Page 5 of 62

Assistant to the Battalion Surgeon 

My name is Donald W. Stanek and I was an 

assistant to the battalion surgeon 2/503d in 1966-1967, 

with the 173d Airborne Brigade. I was honored to serve 

with Father Watters (Medal of Honor recipient) who 

lost his life in his 3 rd or 4 th extended tour in Nam. He 

told me he would continue to extend his tour because he 

felt his place was with his men. Somehow, I had the 

feeling he was going to be there until the end. 

Col. Sigholtz and Lt. Col. Partain were the ranking 

officers I served with during my tour of duty, both of 

whom I felt honored to serve with. 

The first casualty I observed was a 19 year old black 

soldier shot through the neck by a sniper, the only 

casualty in our company as we prepared to make camp 

for the night; because night time belonged to “Charlie.” 

At the time I thought to myself perhaps his mom back 

home was writing him a letter, or baking him some 

cookies, and only we knew that for him life was over!!! 

Having never been in combat before I didn’t know 

what shrapnel really was until I got hit across the chest 

with a piece. It drew blood (just a scratch – lucky me), 

and one of the medics said he could put me in for a 

Purple Heart, but I told him, “Hell no you won’t!”, 

because guys lost arms and legs and their lives for the 

Purple Heart and they were the men who deserved it! 

Sometime later I was awarded the Commendation 

Medal with “V” device (for valor) for going into a 

booby-trapped area and rescuing several wounded 

troops, one of which required a tracheotomy which I 

assisted the battalion surgeon with. Later I was told that 

the area was full of booby-traps and that we could have 

been killed getting the wounded soldiers out of the area. 

I believe my reply was something like, “I’m glad I 

didn’t know that!!!” 

The first Viet Cong prisoner we took was hiding in an 

underground bunker and was wounded and paralyzed on 

his left side from a head wound. I noticed his weapon, a 

Russian made SKS, which I disassembled and sent back 

to the states. I’ve kept it as a souvenir and until today 

still have it (Tay Ninh, Vietnam 1966). 

About two years ago I met another Vietnam vet from 

the 1/503d, a medic by the name of Doc Hutcheson, 

who was also there in 1966 and 1967. He is currently 

living in Florida about 18 miles from where I currently 

reside. 

My job was Assistant to the Battalion Surgeon and I 

rotated from A, B and C Companies to Recon when I 

replaced a lost medic until we got a replacement. Later, 

in 1967, I was promoted out of my MOS (73506) to the 

Civic Action Team for the last 8 week of my extended 

tour of duty (18 months). 

Donald W. Stanek 

HHC, 2/503d, ‘66’67 

VFW NATIONAL CONVENTION 

VFW’s 111 th National 

Convention in Indianapolis 

will be held Aug. 21-26. Posts 

can support VFW programs by 

registering members early for 

$10. This fee covers the cost of 

a convention packet, available 

onsite. Registration forms 

were mailed March 1. VFW by-laws call for each Post 

to advance-register at least one delegate. 

For housing assignments, see the list at www.vfw.org 

then 111 th National Convention. Hotels are conveniently 

located near the convention center. For more 

information contact Vanessa Kane, CMP, CMM, 

Manager of VFW Convention & Meetings: (816) 968- 

1198, or visit the web site listed above. 


Page 6 of 62

HE WAS OFFERED $1 MILLION FOR 

THE FLAG BUT TURNED IT DOWN 

(Sent in by Bob Clark, 5 th Special Forces) 

In the first inning, on April 25, 1976, during a game 

at Dodger Stadium, two protesters, a man and his 

11-year-old son, ran into the outfield and tried to set 

fire to an American flag they had brought with 

them. Rick Monday, then playing with the Cubs, 

noticed they had placed the flag on the ground and 

were fumbling with matches and lighter fluid; he 

then dashed over and grabbed the flag from the 

ground to thunderous cheers. He handed the flag to 

Los Angeles pitcher Doug Rau, after which the 

ballpark police officers arrested the two intruders. 

When he came up to bat in the next half-inning, he 

got a standing ovation from the crowd and the big 

message board behind the left-field bleachers in the 

stadium flashed the message, "RICK MONDAY... 

YOU MADE A GREAT PLAY..." He later said, 

"If you're going to burn the flag, don't do it around 

me. I've been to too many veterans' hospitals and 

seen too many broken bodies of guys who tried to 

protect it." On August 25, 2008, Monday was 

presented with an American flag flown over Valley 

Forge National Historical Park in honor of his 1976 

rescue. 

Photo by Jim Roark 

At the end of the season, the Cubs traded Monday 

to the Dodgers in a five-player deal with two 

players (one of whom was Bill Buckner) going to 

the Cubs. 

At the September 2nd, 2008 Los Angeles Dodgers 

game, Rick Monday was presented with a Peace 

One Earth medallion by Patricia Kennedy, founder 

of the non-profit organization Step Up 4 Vets, for 

his actions on April 25, 1976 and his military 

service with the Marine Corps. 

MORE FROM THE VFW 

Emergency Care Now Reimbursable: A 

new law enacted Feb. 1 will reimburse 

veterans for emergency health care. Public 

Law 111-137, the Veterans Emergency Care 

Fairness Act of 2009, covers vets enrolled in VA’s 

health care system. 

The law allows VA to reimburse an enrolled veteran for 

the cost of emergency treatment at a non-VA facility if 

the veteran has outside insurance that only covers part of 

the cost. Previously, VA could reimburse veterans or 

pay outside hospitals directly only if a vet had no outside 

health insurance. 

The law also allows VA to provide retroactive payments 

to vets who had such care before the law went into 

effect. The Congressional Budget Office estimated the 

law will cover some 700 future claims per year and as 

many as 2,000 veterans retroactively. 

R.H.I.P. 

Bn XO/CO LTC Bob Carmichael at 

2/503d reunion in Cocoa Beach, FL 

in 2006. 

Damn ossifers get all the good Red Cross packages. 

“Hey! RTO! Bring me a drink!” 

~ ARCHIVE YOUR HISTORY ~ 

Those wishing to preserve their Vietnam writings, 

artifacts, etc., here is the contact web site for Texas Tech 

University's Vietnam Center and Archive 

http://www.vietnam.ttu.edu/donors/materials.htm It's an 

interesting site just to visit. 

Jim Bethea, HHC, 2/503d, ‘65/’66 


Page 7 of 62

SKY 

SOLDIERETT’S 

CORNER 

Boy, the last month has been 

hectic. And it seems like it has flown. We need to add 

another couple of weeks to the month. 

Is everyone signed up for the Memorial Dedication and 

Reunion? When we see our significant others try to 

reclaim the life they had in Vietnam, often what they see 

in the mirror isn’t what is really reflected there. 

Each year, too, more and more of them have advanced to 

Trooper’s Green and laid down their weapons. The 

grieving of their lost friends and their lost youth and for 

some of them – even their lost lives – starts all over. 

This is also a time of year when anniversaries seem to be 

abundant in our household. Just as we remember dates 

that are significant in our lives, the dates in Vietnam are 

unforgettable. Because of the events surrounding those 

important dates, it taints even happier anniversaries. 

God help you if any of your 

anniversaries coincides even 

approximately with one of his 

important dates. And since he was 

there for a year – guess what – ALL 

of them coincide. 

If the veteran did not deal with the 

traumatic events of the anniversaries 

soon after he returned home, each 

year as he remembers the date it 

becomes more significant and 

important to him. Pretty soon there 

are no happy anniversaries in your 

life. And the ones that could have 

meaning and happiness are 

overshadowed by the ones he can’t 

forget. Then he starts to forget dates 

that are important except for the ones 

related to combat. 

Added to that is what one psychologist described as the 

‘decade effect.’ On or about the ten-year anniversary of 

a traumatic event, there is usually a crisis or complete 

upheaval in a person’s life that hasn’t dealt with trauma. 

Each ten years that passes without dealing with the 

trauma, the crisis or upheaval that happens during that 

period increases in intensity from the previous ten-year 

anniversary. If the trauma is not dealt with by the time 

the 40 th anniversary occurs, a major catastrophe usually 

occurs. Makes you stop and think about your life and 

changes that have occurred and when they have 

occurred. 

You will have an opportunity at this reunion to get more 

understanding of some of these things. Some of you 

have the opportunity to take part in group sessions. I 

really envy your ability to have someone to share with. 

This is my group therapy. 

On another note, we have been watching the series “The 

Pacific,” on HBO the last few weeks. My father was in 

the army as a tank platoon leader supporting the Marines 

as they went through the Phoenix, Solomon and 

Marshall Islands. This series has really helped me 

understand what he went through during the war – 

another silent warrior!! I feel we will have the privilege 

of a lifetime to get to honor others who served and led 

the way for our veterans. 

Hang in there. Some days are better than others – 

just cherish them – the bad days are just around 

the corner again! 

Iva Tuttle 

Wife of Wayne Tuttle, C/2/503d 

In our April newsletter Iva spoke of a young 

girl lying on a grave at Arlington. At the time 

neither Iva nor I could find the photo. I don’t 

know if this is the specific photo Iva was 

speaking of, but, it’s a photo, and a photo 

which speaks volumes. Ed 


Page 8 of 62

FRANK GARCIA, A SKY SOLDIER 

Thursday, April 1, 2010 

Funeral services for Frank Garcia, 

65, of Orchard, were held April 3, 

2010, at Davis-Greenlawn Funeral 

Chapel in Rosenberg, with burial 

following at Greenlawn Memorial 

Park in Rosenberg. Deacon Albert Yanez officiated at 

the services. 

Frank was born Jan. 14, 1945, in Alief, and passed away 

Tuesday, March 30, 2010, at Oak Bend Medical Center 

surrounded by his loving family. 

Frank served three tours with the 173d Airborne Brigade 

in Vietnam before being honorably discharged. He was 

very proud of serving his country, and had since been 

very involved with the D.A.V. Frank loved 

woodworking, raising his goats and steers and spending 

time with his family, friends and “Mr. Wellers.” 

He is preceded in death by his parents, Frank “Pancho” 

Garcia Sr. and Annie Garcia; and brother, Domingo 

Garcia. 

Frank is survived by his loving and beautiful wife of 36 

years, Vicki Garcia; children Ginger Mejia with 

husband, Rafael “Gato” Mejia, Cheryl Antu with 

husband, Jimmy Antu, Matt “Pape” Ramos with wife, 

Bekah Ramos, and Abraham Garcia; brothers Tony 

Garcia, Manuel Garcia and Jesse Garcia; sisters Lupe 

Garcia, Frances Wofford, Rosie Garcia and Bebe Garcia; 

grandchildren Crystal Mejia, Angel Mejia, Aaron Mejia, 

Cailee Antu, Julia Antu, 

and his “Big Shot” 

grandson, Christian 

Mejia; and numerous 

other family members and 

friends. 

Donations in Frank’s 

memory may be made in 

his name to the Disabled 

American Veterans. 

~ Rest well Frank. Airborne brother ~ 

A Poem Worth Reading 

He was getting old and paunchy 

And his hair was falling fast, 

And he sat around the Legion, 

Telling stories of the past. 

Of a war that he once fought in 

And the deeds that he had done, 

In his exploits with his buddies; 

They were heroes, every one. 

And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors 

His tales became a joke, 

All his buddies listened quietly 

For they knew whereof he spoke. 

But we'll hear his tales no longer, 

For ol' Bob has passed away, 

And the world's a little poorer 

For a soldier died today. 

He won't be mourned by many, 

Just his children and his wife. 

For he lived an ordinary, 

Very quiet sort of life. 

He held a job and raised a family, 

Going quietly on his way; 

And the world won't note his passing, 

'Tho a soldier died today. 

When politicians leave this earth, 

Their bodies lie in state, 

While thousands note their passing, 

And proclaim that they were great. 

Papers tell of their life stories 

From the time that they were young 

But the passing of a soldier 

Goes unnoticed, and unsung. 

Is the greatest contribution 

To the welfare of our land, 

Some jerk who breaks his promise 

And cons his fellow man? 

Or the ordinary fellow 

Who in times of war and strife, 

Goes off to serve his country 

And offers up his life? 

The politician's stipend 

And the style in which he lives, 

Are often disproportionate, 

To the service that he gives. 

While the ordinary soldier, 

Who offered up his all, 

Is paid off with a medal 

And perhaps a pension, small. 

It's so easy to forget them, 

For it is so many times 

That our Bobs and Steves and Johnnys, 

Went to battle, but we know, 



Page 9 of 62

It is not the politicians 

With their compromise and ploys, 

Who won for us the freedom 

That our country now enjoys. 

Should you find yourself in danger, 

With your enemies at hand, 

Would you really want some cop-out, 

With his ever waffling stand? 

Or would you want a soldier-- 

His home, his country, his kin, 

Just a common soldier, 

Who would fight until the end. 

He was just a common soldier, 

And his ranks are growing thin, 

But his presence should remind us 

We may need his like again. 

For when countries are in conflict, 

We find the soldier's part 

Is to clean up all the troubles 

That the politicians start. 

If we cannot do him honor 

While he's here to hear the praise, 

Then at least let's give him homage 

At the ending of his days. 

Perhaps just a simple headline 

In the paper that might say: 

"OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING, 

A SOLDIER DIED TODAY." 

Sent in by MG Jerry Bethke, HHC/2/503d, and 

Gayle Bethea, wife of Jim Bethea, HHC/2/503d. 

~ CORRECTION ~ 

In the story sent in 

about “Miss Ann 

Margaret,” which 

appeared in Issue 

13, Page 6, of our 

newsletter, photos 

were also sent, 

including this 

picture of Ann 

with, whom we 

assumed to be the 

Vietnam vet the story was about. The photo, however, 

did not escape the keen eye of Maj. Ed Privette, CO 

HHC 2/503d. Ed correctly pointed out the man in the 

picture is King Carl Gustaf XVI of Sweden. We don’t 

know this for a fact but, this may well be the first time in 

history a King has been mistaken for a Vietnam vet, or 

vise versa! 

HEP ME! HEP ME! 

This is a photo of Mike “the kid,” a buddy of mine 

from the 2/503d ‘65/’66, taken in front of the 

Continental Hotel in Saigon 1966. He may have served 

in HHC and possibly in the commo section. He 

DEROSED before me that year, and gave me this picture 

of him before going back to the World. If you recognize 

him and can put me in touch that will be great. Thanks! 

Lew “Smitty” Smith, rto173d@cfl.rr.com 

Mike. I’m staying cool brother, old and cool. Lew 


Page 10 of 62

A GOOD OMEN? 

You guys won’t believe this. Yesterday I had an 

appointment at the VA with my head doctor. 

His office number is 173. How about that........... 

A 2/503d Buddy 

TOMB OF THE UNKNOWN 

SOLDIER 

This is really an awesome sight to watch if you've never 

had the chance, very fascinating. 

1. How many steps does the guard take during his walk 

across the tomb of the Unknowns and why? 

21 steps. It alludes to the twenty-one gun salute, 

which is the highest honor given any military or 

foreign dignitary. 

2. How long does he hesitate after his about face to 

begin his return walk and why? 

Twenty-one seconds for the same reason as answer 

number 1 above. 

3. Why are his gloves wet? 

His gloves are moistened to prevent his losing his 

grip on the rifle. 

4. Does he carry his rifle on the same shoulder all the 

time and if not, why not? 

He carries the rifle on the shoulder away from 

the tomb. After his march across the path, he 

executes an about face and moves the 

rifle to the outside shoulder. 

5. How often are the guards changed? 

Guards are changed every thirty minutes, 

twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year. 

6. What are the physical traits of the guard limited to? 

For a person to apply for guard duty at 

the tomb, he must be between 5' 10” and 6' 2” 

tall and his waist size cannot exceed 30”. 



Page 11 of 62

Other requirements of the guard: 

They must commit 2 years of life to guard the 

tomb, live in a barracks under the tomb, and 

cannot drink any alcohol on or off duty for the 

rest of their lives. They cannot swear in public for 

the rest of their lives and cannot disgrace the 

uniform {fighting} or the tomb in any way. 

After two years, the guard is given a wreath pin 

that is worn on their lapel signifying they served 

as guard of the tomb. There are only 400 

presently worn. The guard must obey these rules 

for the rest of their lives or give up the wreath pin. 

The shoes are specially made with very thick soles 

to keep the heat and cold from their feet. There 

are metal heel plates that extend to the top of the 

shoe in order to make the loud click as they come 

to a halt. 

There are no wrinkles, folds or lint on the 

uniform. Guards dress for duty is in front of a 

full-length mirror. 

The first six months of duty a guard cannot talk to 

anyone, nor watch TV. All off duty time is spent 

studying the 175 notable people laid to rest in 

Arlington National Cemetery. 

A guard must memorize who they are and where 

they are interred. Among the notables are 

President Taft, Joe E. Lewis {the boxer}, and 

Medal of Honor recipient Audie Murphy {the 

most decorated soldier of WWII} of Hollywood 

fame. 

Every guard spends five hours a day getting his 

uniforms ready for guard duty. 

In 2003, as Hurricane Isabelle was approaching 

Washington, DC, our US Senate/House took 2 days off 

with anticipation of the storm. On the ABC evening 

news, it was reported that because of the dangers from 

the hurricane, the military members assigned the duty of 

guarding the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier were given 

permission to suspend the assignment. 

They respectfully declined the offer, 'No way, Sir!' 

Soaked to the skin, marching in the pelting rain of a 

tropical storm, they said that guarding the Tomb was not 

just an assignment, it was the highest honor that can be 

afforded to a service person. The tomb has been 

patrolled continuously, 24/7, since 1930. 

(The Unknown, sent in by Jimmy Castillo, C/2/503d) 

173d memorial stone at Arlington Cemetary 


Page 12 of 62

2/503d base, Camp Zinn, Bien Hoa, Vietnam, named in 

memory of Ron Zinn. Photo by Col. George Dexter 

1LT RON ZINN HONORED 

Hi friends and cousins, 

Last Friday evening at Silver Lake Country Club in 

Orland Park, Illinois, I, along with my sister, Joyce, and 

cousin Connie, attended a special event. 

District 230 which includes Carl Sandburg, Stagg, and 

Andrew High Schools, held their 2nd annual Hall of 

Fame inductions into Legacy Hall. It is kind of hard to 

believe that this was only the second one, but that is the 

case. 15 most worthy alumni from these 3 schools were 

inducted. Ron was not the only one to be inducted 

Posthumously. 

There was another fine young man who lost his life in 

Viet Nam. One super still young, young lady was 

inducted. She had accomplished a great deal as a student 

and as an alumni. On one of her charitable trips 

overseas, she contacted malaria. What a nasty disease it 

can be. In her case, it cost her portions of both arms and 

both legs. She is now confined to a wheelchair, but 

her spirit of optimism and hope was very moving. 

Each inductee as they were introduced had a photo 

powerpoint display. My goodness, what a truly 

outstanding group. America is blessed to have people as 

these in her midst. And just think, most of them are 

from our high school, some even back to the same grade 

school that we attended. 

When it came time for me to accept the award for Ron, I 

was not sure what to say because I had no idea as to the 

time limit. However, I made it poignant, and yet not too 

long. 

Ron had a notebook that I also had for some years after 

his passing. On it he had written: 

“IN LIFE THERE WILL 

ALWAYS BE THINGS 

THAT WE DO NOT 

WANT TO DO; BUT IF 

WE ARE TO SUCCEED, 

WE WILL DO THEM.” 

Fellow officer and friend, 

Roy Lombardo, related to 

me in the past couple of 

years how much Ron had 

inspired him, and how he 

still thinks of him 45 years 

later. Roy also told me just 

how Ron gave his life; and 

that was trying to save the 

life of a fallen comrade 

and friend. 

One of the photos on the 

screen behind me showed 

Ron in full dress West Point 

uniform, saluting the Corp, 

as he was receiving a parade 

in his honor, the only 

underclassman to have ever 

accomplished such a feat. I 

related another photo that I 

have of Ron, and will 

always cherish, is Ron in full Ron at West Point 

dress military uniform at the 

age of 4, taken in 1943. Perhaps that picture was the 

impetus for his love of the military. 

I wrapped it up by saying this, "What else can I say, 

Ron Zinn loved his family, West Point, and ultimately, 

his county. He gave his life for all. Thank you for this 

honor." 

Afterwards, several people told me that my acceptance 

brought tears to their eyes. Quite an evening indeed!! 

How proud Joyce and I are to have had Ron as our big 

brother. I can only imagine what else he may have 

accomplished. 

Many of you do not know that the base Ron worked out 

of was renamed "Camp Zinn" until the end of the 

conflict. 

Peace to each of you and be thankful daily for your 

blessings. 

Jerry Zinn 


Page 13 of 62

A 2/503d BOOK WORTH READING 

Prologue 

Confusion wasn’t the half of it. AK-47s were 

chopping the jungle into a tossed salad. 

While Charlie took aim at his humping tackle, 

Lieutenant Edward Hardin ran about learning whey El 

Tees didn’t live very long. With his vitals in hiding and 

his life a crapshoot, if ever a man was hunting trouble -- 

in Vietnam, in 1967---he damn sure found it. 

His father warned him not to expect much from the 

world. 

Instinctively irreverent when tending war’s 

misfortunes, infantrymen from the Twenty-Fourth Foot 

in the Transvaal, the Fifth Marines and the Seventh 

Infantry in the Chosin Reservoir, and the 173 rd Airborne 

and Fourth Infantry in Dak To, smiled to mask an altered 

state of mind. 

Lieutenant Edward Hardin was naturally irreverent--a 

bit of luck he had not foreseen. When Eddie received 

his deployment orders his father read each work and 

said, “A dogface needs to know how to eat, dig, shit, and 

shoot. The rest is just the war.” 

Scoffing his best scoff while allowing room to avoid 

the major’s left hook, Eddie replied, “Yeah, right. The 

trick is not shitting on your boots.” 

Hardin’s men could eat and shoot, dig and shoot, and 

shit and shoot, all while screaming for a medic. It’s not 

that chaos came with these men--it’s just that something 

did. 

They were an odd assortment, boys really--twelvemonth 

men really. Their pictures were familiar--the 

cocked hats and the melancholy grins. They enjoyed 

talking about girls and home, rumors and cars, the little 

things mostly. 

They enjoyed a good joke most of all. Caught in a 

time of chattel sacrifice, the regret that anchored their 

black humor was the baseline for their survival. 

Slogging through the mud, in and out of the vines, 

fighting a war that was mindless, and discomposed, 

Hardin’s men had a duty they could not define: to a 

smile once remembered. 

Sure enough--Vietnam’s war sucked. 

A noble cause, the old men said, blood and bile 

curdling in a steel pot, a boot standing alone, mist 

curling over the fractured body of one paratrooper, then 

racing to the next. Hollow eyes glistened with tears of 

fatigue and winced at the roar of small-arms fire. 

Infantry combat is a deeply personal, scarring 

experience. 

An infantryman never comes home, regains a sense of 

empathy, or fall completely in love. He is but a remnant 

of the boy you once knew--a short-fused remnant. 

Coming alive again required the friendship of time. 

Random Excerpt 

Hardin strolled aimlessly along the duckboards. The 

air was bitter, as if drawn through a straw. A faint echo 

sounded. Leaving Dig-it’s rucksack at B-Med had not 

stopped the sequence. 

Sitting on the edge of a bunk, he tried to relax. Dig-it 

screamed a melancholy scream, then laughed at Hardin’s 

way. Hardin could have saved Doppler some time. The 

whistle of a passing train matched the scream of a friend 

dying in combat, dying alone. 

These mental gymnastics were not driven by a fever of 

unknown origin. Burning with efficiency, Hardin had 

factored, categorized, and stored thousands of still-frame 

holographs, a library of the sights and sounds of 

slaughter: the smell. 

And to think he had enjoyed watching Victory at Sea. 

Bathing in a composite that drew his features into a 

similitude of voiceless regret, he considered embracing 

his fever, claiming it for himself as a profound remedy. 

He was tired of war. 

Gary Prisk, Capt., served as a platoon leader with 

C/2/503d and company commander with the 

battalion in 1967/68. His book, Digger Dogface 

Brownjob Grunt, a Cougar Creek Press publication, 

is available on Amazon.com 


Page 14 of 62

BE PROUD OF YOUR ROLE 

An excerpt from Sky Soldier.org: 

Wambi, at The Wall 

During more than 6 years (54 major campaigns) of 

continuous combat, the “Brigade” earned 14 campaign 

streamers and four unit citations. Sky soldiers serving in 

Viet Nam received 13 Medals of Honor, 46 DSCs, 736 

Silver Stars, and six thousand Purple Hearts. There are 

over 1790 Sky Soldiers named on the Viet Nam 

Memorial Wall. 

Then why is it that a significant number of Bros. still 

choose to embellish there role in the war rather than 

accept their critical contributions? The Brigade is 

recognized for these distinguished achievements -- not 

just line or artillery units. e.g. Naturally, the Wall 

reflects those who were more directly engaged in combat 

related actions. However, that number would be vastly 

larger were it not for the efforts of the various support 

contingents within the Brigade. 

Only much later do we “line grunts” begin to appreciate 

the behind-the-jungle roles so many played in seeing that 

our time in the field was more than just tolerable. Thank 

you Supply for seeing that we were timely resupplied 

under what was always “get it to them yesterday 

circumstances.” Thank you Engineers for seeing that 

our line-of-march was less taxing because you blew to 

hell some of Nam’s biggest Asian Redwoods. Thank 

you Mess because your field deliveries of hot meals 

came only seconds before we seriously thought of using 

C- rations instead of our frags. How the Mail managed 

to reach us even in the worst of times is worthy of a 

special citation in itself. 

Even though we tend to harp critically on what the S unit 

didn’t foresee, the fact is, their intelligence saved more 

lives than we’ll ever know. We All performed our 

duties, oft times under the most adverse and untenable 

circumstances. The aforementioned represent but a 

fraction of the various and sundry non-combative units 

whose Role may never be fully appreciated. 

To the uninformed and most outsiders, heroes are 

typically designated within the 11B prefix. Fortunately, 

there are enough of us survivors who know full well that 

the Herd’s place in Viet Nam history was borne by the 

collective labors of individuals whose sole mission was 

for the benefit of their brothers. 

“Sweet is war to those who 

have never experienced it.” 

Wambi Cook 

A/2/503d 

And if anything might be added to this report Wambi sent 

in, a special collective voice of gratitude is deserved by 

those countless men and women who served as doctors, 

nurses and attendants at the Mash units and hospitals, and 

all associated with them. There’s was a war few of us 

would have cared to experience, but all of us owe a great 

deal. 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO A 

SNEAKY PETE EXTRAORDINAIRE 

He did three tours in Vietnam with the 5 th SF, a career 

man, the army was his life. But it was not to be; on his 

third tour the bad guys blew out one of his eyes, and to 

this day he walks around with shrapnel in his brain. For 

over 40 years, until just recently, we never once sat 

down together to talk about our war experiences -- even 

though that war greatly impacted us, our parents, and our 

families. Happy Birthday Bob, I’m proud of you my 

older brother, and you’ve been a special force in my life. 

Your brother-brother 

Bob Clark & Smitty at Camp Zinn 1965 


Page 15 of 62

OUR MISSION -- FACILITATE THE 

TRANSPORTATION OF SKY SOLDIERS 

TO THE MEMORIAL DEDICATION & 

SUPPORT THE MOST MEANINGFUL 

EXPERIENCE POSSIBLE FOR OUR 

SKY SOLDIERS!! 

By Terry Modglin, 4/503d 

The Country Inn and Suites, 1720 Fountain 

Court, Columbus, GA 31904, will be the Rally 

Point for those members of the 2/503d who wish 

to stay at the same hotel with their battalion 

buddies for the Dedication of the 173d National 

Memorial at 10 a.m. June 1, 2010. The room 

rates are $88. for single or double, and $90. for a 

suite (of which there are just 5), plus tax. These 

rates are good for just the 31st of May and 1st of 

June. There is a big soccer tournament just before 

our contingent arrives and a smaller one just after 

so it is highly unlikely rooms will be available on 

these shoulder nights. 

This is definitely a nice hotel, recently renovated. 

The 3d and 4 th Battalions will be staying at hotels 

within the same zip code. There is no obligation for 

attendees to book rooms at any particular hotel. The 

Country Inn will provide free transportation to and back 

from the Memorial Dedication for guests booking 30 

days in advance. 

The hotel's phone number is 706-660-1880. Their email 

is cx_clbs@countryinns.com If you call in the 

reservation, just indicate you are part of the 173d 

Airborne Group. If you register through the Internet, 

go to http://www.countryinns.com/hotels/gacolumb 

and after you select your dates to stay, in finding 

your rate you will see a link for "More Rates." Go there 

and put in the Promotional ID 173AIR. 

If this hotel is filled (as I expect it will be), we have 

other hotels in that area for more 2d Bat Sky Soldiers. 

There will likely be a tour of Fort Benning on June 1, 

after the Dedication. Details will appear in a future issue 

of this newsletter. 

In the interest of transparency, as I have indicated 

throughout, I am receiving no money whatsoever from 

this initiative, but my travel planner colleague, Mark 

Zeller, is receiving 10% commission on the hotel room 

nights taken. We have already spent a lot of time on this 

and Mark will likely spend really significant 

time on this over the months ahead because it 

has so many moving parts. Believe me, the 

money will be hard-earned and will help offset 

some of his out-of-poket expenses. 

We are not part of the Memorial Foundation 

or the Association, but we have received the 

goodwill and cooperation of both. Mistakes 

made, if any, are ours alone….the 

Transportation Memorial Dedication Group. 

If you have any questions, or guys with other 

battalions needing hotel information, please 

email me at Terry.Modglin@Gmail.com or 

call me at 202-270-3083. 

Airborne! 

Terry Modglin, 4/503d 

This notice appears in our newsletter as a courtesy to those 

working in support of the 173d National Memorial. Ed. 


Page 16 of 62

The 173d Airborne Brigade 

National Memorial 

The 173d Airborne Brigade National Memorial will be 

dedicated on June 1, near the new National Infantry 

Museum at Fort Benning, Georgia. A Transportation 

Memorial Dedication Group, not affiliated with the 

Association or the Memorial Foundation, has 

established for May 31 and June 1 room blocks at 18 

Columbus, Georgia area hotels, and designated seven of 

those hotels as unit Rally Points so that Sky Soldiers on 

this singular occasion can see their buddies with whom 

they served. Additionally, there is a bus the day after the 

Dedication from Columbus to the Annual Reunion 

($99) in North Myrtle Beach, and a tour of Fort Benning 

($25 -- limited to 100) an hour or so after the 

Dedication. All this is being done to facilitate 

attendance at the Dedication and enhance the 

experience. A microwebsite of the Columbus 

Convention and Visitors Bureau is up and running and 

will make it easier for Sky Soldiers to make hotel 

reservations - www.meetincolumbusga.com/173d/ Refer 

to the Accommodations link in order to find all the 

hotels with room blocks. 

The 173d Memorial at Ft. Benning, GA. 

Please share this information with your Members, 

remembering that April 30 is a cutoff date for a number 

of the offers involved. 

Please ask all Sky Soldiers and friends, when they 

register at the hotels, to indicate that they are in the 

"173d Airborne Brigade Transportation Group" so that 

they receive the correct room rate and we know who will 

be there from specific units. 

Please address any questions to Terry Modglin, 

Volunteer Liaison to Sky Soldiers for the Transportation 

Memorial Dedication Group, at 

terry.modglin@gmail.com, or call 202-270-3083. Thank 

you. 

Terry Modglin, 

4/503d 

HONORING OUR mates 

DOWN UNDER 

The Australian and New Zealanders who were killed 

while under the operational control of the 173d Airborne 

Brigade, US Army during 1965-66, will be listed on 

their National Memorial. This will be the only memorial 

on US soil to list the names of the Aussies and Kiwis, 

quite possibly the world … no greater honour or 

acknowledgement could be given to our mates. 



Page 17 of 62

The 173d Airborne Brigade Memorial will be located at 

a prime site on the Walk of Honour at their nation's new 

National Infantry Museum, immediately adjacent to Fort 

Benning, Georgia, USA. On land fully accessible to the 

general public (no fee and no need to go through 

clearance to get on post). This prime location is an 

integral part of the campus of the National Infantry 

Museum, stated to be among the premier attractions in 

that area. The Walk of Honour adjoins the Parade 

Ground. Designed with ample space to expand as the 

Brigade's history continues. 

This is a memorial to all who have served 

or will serve in the 173d Airborne Brigade, 

especially to those who fell in combat, 

whose names will be listed from all 

engagements; those that have been and 

those to come in the order in which they 

were taken from us. 

The design is truly powerful, built on the concept of a 

circle of sacred ground with the Wing and Sword (from 

their patch) dramatically rising toward the sky and their 

story told under its banner. A place more than a 

monument that provides opportunity for reflection as 

well as commemoration. A destination that can help 

veterans tell their children and grandchildren (and yes, 

great-grandchildren) about their service, their legacy, 

and their comrades, with the benefit of an extraordinary 

museum that helps them understand what we did and 

why we did it. 

But most importantly a place where our 

promise to remember them is kept. 

The dedication will take place at 10:00 a.m. on the 1 st of 

June 2010, just about 45 years, to the day, of the 1RAR 

Group’s arrival in Vietnam. 

As a member of the 1RAR Group I was overwhelmed 

when advised that they intended the include our 30 

KIA’s … it is not the norm for the yanks! 

A request has been made to the Minister, Alan Griffin 

MP, requesting sponsorship of a small number of 

Australian members of the 173d Airborne Brigade 

Association to attend and witness the dedication and 

show our appreciation of their acknowledgment of our 

service with the Brigade. 

A reunion will follow on from the dedication and held at 

North Myrtle Beach SC. If anyone would like 

information email me at raypayne@veteranweb.asn.au 

Ray Payne, OAM 

Secretary Chapter 23 

173d Airborne Brigade Assoc. 

THE PASSING OF VETERANS 

If I was going to the reunion, I would be honored to 

serve as host to our WWII vets. Unfortunately I won’t 

be attending.. 

Of the 16,112,566 American veterans of WWII, fewer 

than 2.5 million remain alive. With another 311,000 

projected to die this year, they are passing at the rate of 

852 a day or 35 an hour or about one every two minutes. 

Sometime, around Christmas 2014, the number of living 

WWII vets will dip below one million, and in 2024 

fewer than 100,000 will remain. In 2036, it is 

guestimated there will be only 370 left, less than half the 

size of an infantry battalion. 

Of course, WWII is perhaps mankind's most documented 

event and historians can soldier on without them. U.S. 

Army records alone weigh 17,120 tons, enough to fill 

188 miles of filing cabinets set side-by-side. Vast 

caches of oral histories and personal reminiscences 

abound. But what will it mean to this nation for it to 

lose what has been deemed its greatest generation? 

The last Revolutionary War vet lingered on until after 

the Civil War, dying in 1869 at the age of 109, 

while some War of 1812 veterans lived to see the 20th 

Century, and Civil War veterans lived into the 1950s. 

The last Spanish-American War survivor died in 1992, 

at 106. All the WWI veterans are now gone. With the 

veterans gone, so too does remembrance and ritual. Few 

remember the U.S.S. Maine. No longer is there a minute 

of silence on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the 

eleventh month. WWII pushed aside memories of WWI. 

As these events pass, more will be written without 

sentimentalism and pandering to particular audiences. 

Some of this lack of sanitized and romanticized 

sentiment will be for the good and some will choose the 

opportunity to rewrite valient and heroic efforts as 

imperialistic greed and disregard for any rules of war. 

The negative realities of war will be emphasized. 

As has been mentioned, the Vietnam veteran is also 

passing. As we also learned in Burkett & Whitley's 

book, Stolen Valor, far more veterans pretend to exist 

than served in-country and aboard ships. Our war has 

been rewritten from the start. Perhaps after we're all 

dead and gone, someone will write the truth? What is 

happening now is far too many fake Vietnam veterans 

are providing their "true" stories for the archives. 

Jerry Hassler 

HHC/Recon/2/503d, ‘66/’67 


Page 18 of 62

173d Memorial taking shape at Fort Benning, Georgia, April 2010 

Photos sent in by Craig Ford, 1/503d 


Page 19 of 62

A TACTICAL DISASTER 

WAITING TO HAPPEN 

I believe it was the Commo Platoon that had a ¾ ton 

truck rigged up as a portable communications center. It 

consisted of a large plywood box painted OD built onto 

the back of the truck. There was at least one large 

antenna affixed to the side of the box and other than the 

entrance in the rear, there were no openings. 

On one of the battalion’s first operations while we were 

in the rubber trees, there were some KIAs and I guess 

that because of the proximity of the enemy the KIAs 

were not recovered. I don’t know whether the battalion 

was still out on the operation or not but I was detailed to 

drive an NCO and about 6 other guys out to the area of 

the fight and see if we could find the bodies and recover 

them. 

The NCO sat in the cab with me and the other 6 rode in 

the box. There were immediate concerns raised by the 

guys in the back about the lack of visibility from inside 

the box and their ability to return fire if we were fired 

upon. But, orders were orders. 

We drove along a highway along which there were 

several very small towns and finally turned off onto a 

dirt road that led across some fields and then into the 

brush and jungle. 

The guys in the back were banging on the walls of the 

box in protest but the NCO ignored them. On a little 

further and the dirt road narrowed into a trail that was 

barely wide enough for the truck. I was sweating 

bullets. I just knew that any second the last thing I 

would see was the wind shield shattering. It was one of 

those times when I knew I had to do something but 

everything in me was saying “Don’t do this!” 

The guys in the back were really getting rowdy when 

finally the NCO said, in effect, that the search was 

useless and told me to turn around. We returned to the 

rubber trees and I don’t know if anyone ever did recover 

the bodies. 

What a dilemma that was for that NCO. Having to 

follow the orders of whoever it was that issued them 

knowing that they were a tactical disaster waiting to 

happen. Anyone else remember that? 

Jim Bethea 

HHC/2/503d, ‘65/’66 

Jim: I recall hearing of one trooper who was not 

found. Didn’t know there were others. Ed 

He’s right. 

“Leave 

nothing for 

tomorrow 

which can 

be done 

today.” 

~ Abraham Lincoln ~ 

"Do not put 

off till 

tomorrow 

what can be 

put off till 

day after tomorrow just 

as well.” 

~ Mark Twain ~ 

Damn. He’s right too! 

~ A MEETING WITH WESTY ~ 

We were encamped in another 

Michelin rubber plantation and 

someone had come through 

earlier telling us to get our shirts 

on, spruce up a bit as 

Westmoreland was due 

sometime and to be on the look 

out for him. A little later, sure 

enough, here comes the big man 

himself with an entourage 

including Col. Walsh, battalion commander. 



Page 20 of 62

The group of five or so I was with all saw him about the 

same time, although he was about ten meters away. I 

quickly stood up and shouted "Attention!" We all 

snapped to attention. I had shouted so loud, 

Westmoreland shifted his direction and quickly headed 

our way. He was about 10-15 feet in front of his 

entourage. For some inexplicable reason, perhaps too 

much burnt turkey loaf, I had gone back to a relaxed or 

at ease position, no longer standing at attention. As 

Westmoreland came up to me, he whispered so only I 

could hear, "Come to attention," gestering slightly with 

his right hand. I, of course, immediately snapped to 

attention. No telling what my superiors would have 

done to me had I remained at ease. At the time, Walsh 

and I didn't get along too well as I had hit him with 

branches as we traveled through the jungle, me in front 

of him. Here was a four-star general allowing me a little 

latitude and to this day, as well as his never capitalizing 

on his time in Nam, good or bad, I've never forgot it and 

think it speaks highly to the decency of the man. He did 

ask me how the M-16 was. Even though I had never 

fired it, even to zero it, I did have enough sense to say it 

was a fine weapon. 

Jerry Hassler 


You Can Leave The Military, 

But It Never Really 

Leaves You 

By Ken Burger 

The Charlestown Post and Courier 

Occasionally, I venture back out to the air base where 

I'm greeted by an imposing security guard who looks 

carefully at my identification card, hands it back and 

says, "Have a good day, tech sergeant." 

Every time I go back onto Charleston Air Force Base it 

feels good to be called by my previous rank, but odd to 

be in civilian clothes, walking among the servicemen 

and servicewomen going about their duties as I once did, 

years ago. 

The military, for all its flaws, is a comfort zone for 

anyone who has ever worn the uniform. It's a place 

where you know the rules and know they are enforced. 

A place where everybody is busy but not too busy to 

take care of business. 

Because there exists behind the gates of every military 

facility an institutional understanding of respect, order, 

uniformity, accountability and dedication that becomes 

part of your marrow and never, ever leaves you. 

Personally, I miss the fact that you always knew where 

you stood in the military, and who you were dealing 

with. That's because you could read somebody's 

uniform from 20 feet away and know the score. 

Service personnel wear their careers on their sleeves, so 

to speak. When you approach each other, you can read 

their nametag, examine their rank and, if they are in 

dress uniform, read their ribbons and know where 

they've served. 

I miss all those little things you take for granted when 

you're in the ranks, like breaking starch on a set of 

fatigues fresh from the laundry and standing in a 

perfectly straight line that looks like a mirror as it 

stretches to the endless horizon. 

I miss the sight of troops marching in the early morning 

mist, the sound of boot heels thumping in unison on the 

sidewalks, the bark of sergeants and the sing-song 

answers from the squads as they pass by in review. 

To romanticize military service is to be far removed 

from its reality, because it's very serious business, 

especially in times of war. But I miss the salutes I'd 

throw at officers and the crisp returns as we crisscrossed 

on the flight line. 

I miss the smell of jet fuel hanging heavily on the night 

air and the sound of engines roaring down runways and 

disappearing into the clouds. 

I even miss the hurry-up-and-wait mentality that men 

gripe about constantly, a masterful invention that bonded 

people more than they'll ever know or admit. 

I miss people taking off their hats when they enter a 

building, speaking directly and clearly to others and 

never showing disrespect for rank, race, religion or 

gender. 

Mostly I miss being a small cog in a machine so 

complex it constantly circumnavigates the Earth and so 

simple it feeds everyone on time, three times a day, on 

the ground, in the air or at sea. 

Mostly, I don't know anyone who has served who regrets 

it, and doesn't feel a sense of pride when they pass 

through those gates and re-enter the world they left 

behind with their youth. 

(Above sent in by Maj. Ed Privette, HHC/2/503d, ‘66/’67) 

“An army of asses led by a lion is 

better than an army of lions 

led by an ass.” 

George Washington 


Page 21 of 62

SOME 2/503D MEMORIES 

Got a couple short stories about the Herd. 

Like the night before deployment (May 3-4), I was new 

in the unit and had been there about 2 days. We grabbed 

a couple cases of beer and started walking up the hill to 

the Village we called home. Guess the Jarheads knew 

we were leaving as they tried to claim our town. 

We all ended up in the stockade that night; the CO came 

and bailed us out. At the formation the next morning the 

Old Man said, “I know when you’re dismissed you’re 

going back up that hill. Dont get caught this time!” 

August 1965, Secretary of Defense Robert MacNamara 

and General Westmoreland in Vietnam. 

When McNamara came to visit I ended up in S1 with 

an old Pappason who was trying to find me to deliver a 

Jump knife he had repaired for me. I came out of the 

Jungle just when McNamara's chopper hit the ground! 

Butch Clark 

HHC/2/503d, ‘65 

by Jerry Hassler 


STORY BEHIND THIS ZIPPO 

Was near Swan Loc. We were pulling out of a FSB 

going back to Zinn. There were only a few of us left. 

They were pulling out the last 105 and a pallet of ammo 

with a Chinook, he was hovering just above us when 

they hit us. In all the dust and noise we didn't even 

know we'd been hit....guys just started falling and then it 

felt like someone hit me with a fucking 2x4 and down I 

went. 

We lost the 319th battery commander and most of my 

guys from Hqs Co were wounded. Was mortars and 

small arms. Several of the 319th guys at Myrtle Beach 

were there. Paul Dinardo was standing right on top of 

the pallet of ammo reaching for the Chinook hook and 

didn't get a scratch, go figure. 

Ed Privette, Maj. 

CO, HHC/2/503d, ‘66/’67 


Page 22 of 62

ANOTHER 2/503d BOOK 

WORTH READING 

From the Forward 

The essence of this book is the military journey of a 

paratrooper in the mountains and jungles of Okinawa, 

Taiwan, and finally Vietnam. He, the author, typified all 

that was good and courageous about the Bravo Bulls.... 

Larry Paladino, the author, was a standout by any 

measure among the young Bravo Bulls....Larry was 

strong as only an athlete is strong and carried the PRC 

10 radio (later the PRC 25) for me and subsequent 

commanders in company headquarters. He was selected 

for this duty because he had the intellect to easily 

understand the military jargon of the radio transmissions 

and advise me of what was important. He was the first 

Bravo Bull to enter an underground tunnel, armed only 

with a pistol, searching for the enemy and hidden 

equipment. 

Writing has always been his “thing” and this book will 

be ample proof of his craft. We, veterans of the Bravo 

Bulls, are proud to have our story told through the eyes 

and memories of one of our finest, most erudite 

paratroopers. 

LTC Roy Lombardo, Jr. 

Infantry, Retired 

Baltimore, MD 

EXCERPTS 

“Bravo Company suffered probably the most casualties 

in the brigade because we always just happened to be 

where the action began. Newspaper Enterprise 

Association correspondent Tom Tiede began joining us 

and chronicling our events. We had been the first in the 

Mekong Delta (Plain of Reeds), the first in the Central 

Highlands (Pleiku), the first in the ‘Iron Triangle.’ Out 

of 165 Bravo Bulls who arrived on 5 May 1965, only me 

and 27 others hadn’t been wounded in one way or 

another, or killed.” 

“Tomorrow, Tuesday, July 27, President Johnson will 

determine how many more men will be sent to Vietnam. 

There is talk that the force will be at least 200,000. All 

units in Michigan are ready, as well as in other parts of 

the country. They say that bombing will be increased 

and I predict that the missile sites are going to be 

destroyed sooner or later. I hope they add more men to 

your area and I think they will. Bien Hoa is an 

important area because it is close to Saigon.” 

From Larry’s dad. 

“Christmas was coming up and so packages were 

arriving like crazy and everyone was sending cards and 

letters wishing Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. I 

got eight packages in one day alone and it seemed as if 

everyone was baking and sending cookies. With the 

wishes came lots of thanks to all of us for our sacrifices. 

People back home sounded guilty for having things so 

good. Several more “Mail Call Vietnam” cards arrived 

from people we didn’t know. It was a month in which we 

had our share of sebacks, including my friend, Romiro 

Rodriguez, being killed by a bullet through the head.” 

This is the photo 

taken when I 

‘officially’ greeted 

Jo Collins on behalf 

of Co. B. I 

originally thought it 

was a wire photo or 

perhaps one of 

Playboy’s own, but 

apparently it was an Army photo. I can barely read the 

I.D. on the back and it appears to say it was taken Jan. 15, 

1966, by PFC Bernie Zamecki. 

We understand a limited supply of Larry’s book remains 

available. To order a personalized copy of “Thank you 

for fighting the bad people,” email Larry at: 

rto173rd@wowway.com 

Served with the 2/503d in Vietnam? Wrote a book 

about the Vietnam War? Send us details and we’ll 

include them in the newsletter. Ed 


Page 23 of 62

Dear Sky Soldiers: 

On behalf of all members of 

South Carolina Chapter 30 and 

the 2010 Reunion Committee, I 

cordially invite you to make 

every effort to attend this years 

reunion at Avista Resort in 

North Myrtle Beach SC. We 

have worked countless hours 

to provide you an unforgettable 

experience. LTC Hal Nobles, 3/503d 

The centerpiece of this years reunion includes an 

interactive presentation by five enlisted men and one 

officer from the 503 rd PRCT who fought in the Pacific 

during WWII. We are in contact with the History 

Channel in hopes of having their presentations filmed for 

historical purposes and possible later airing. Time has 

been set-aside for Q&A and an opportunity to compare 

their war experiences to ours. We will be honoring these 

incredible men the night of our banquet. 

We have decided to waive late fees in order to encourage 

each of you to join us for this extraordinary event as well 

as other planned activities. A parachute jump by the 

Army’s Golden Knights and a block party featuring the 

82 nd Airborne Choir in concert is scheduled. Also 

available is the option to visit historic Charleston SC and 

an aircraft carrier from WWII, the USS Yorktown. 

For our golfers, we still have room in the golf 

tournament. PTSD seminars will be provided by two 

renowned experts on the illness as well. This year’s 

banquet will feature a Southern-style buffet in a unique 

and casual atmosphere. 

Please visit our website www.173rd2010reunion.com 

for complete details and registering information, or use 

the registration form provided in this newsletter. 

In closing, allow me to thank those who have registered 

and remind others it’s not too late to make plans to join 

the fun and this once in a life time gathering of three 

generations of 503 rd paratroopers. 

Airborne, All the way! 

Hal Nobles 

Chairman 

2010 Reunion Committee 

Army Golden Knights 


Page 24 of 62

SKY SOLDIERS TO DROP IN ON THE 

GRAND STRAND 

Elements of the 173d Airborne Brigade Association will 

conduct special operations in and around the province of 

North Myrtle Beach, SC. The operations are to kick off 

2 June 2010. The Paratroopers are expected to 

accomplish their mission by 6 June 2010 (D-day 

anniversary). A recon company (SC Chapter 30, led by 

retired LTC Hal Nobles), has moved in, secured high 

ground and set up base camp at Avista Resort 

located at coordinates 300 North Ocean Boulevard, 

North Myrtle Beach, SC 29852. R&R casualties 

are expected to be heavy, so pack your rucksack, 

fill your canteens and prepare to move forward. 

AS A TOKEN OF OUR 

APPRECIATION, SC CHAPTER 

30 WOULD LIKE TO PRESENT 

THE FOLLOWING GIFTS TO 

ALL PAID REGISTRANTS: 

Men: Please enjoy a leather duffel bag and 

patriotic polo shirt, both with embroidered logos. 

The duffel bag measures 21″ x 12″ x 12″ with two 

zippered side pockets and a large front pocket and 

holds up to 100 lbs. 

Ladies: It’s our pleasure to present you with a 

quality canvas zippered tote bag, which measures 

18″w x 15″h. Also included are a matching 

patriotic polo shirt and visor. All items feature 

embroidered logos. 

Activities: Registration fee includes admission to a 

banquet with a guest speaker, buffet-style dinner and 

live entertainment. These activities will take place at the 

House of Blues, located along the White Pointe Swash 

stretch of ocean thought to have been a favorite hiding 

spot for famous pirates. House of Blues Myrtle Beach 

opened in 1997 and is built to resemble a Southern 

farmhouse with adjoining tobacco warehouse. The 

music hall is covered in authentic tin from an old 

tobacco barn from Jackson, Mississippi. In keeping with 

North Myrtle Beach atmosphere, dress for this event will 

be very casual. 

Adoption Program: We also encourage you to 

participate in our Sky Soldier Adoption Program. At 

each reunion we have active duty Sky Soldiers fly in 

from overseas. They personally must pay airfare, hotel, 

meal and reunion fees, which can cost thousands of 

dollars. We try to offset their cost by giving them a 

discount on these fees. You can help by purchasing a 

meal voucher for our active duty Sky Soldiers. Please 

consider contributing to this program! These young Sky 

Soldiers will appreciate this tremendously, and you will 

reap the reward by giving! See the registration form on 

our web site www.173rdreunion2010.com to donate. 

Avista Resort, North Myrtle Beach, SC 

Vendors: Also included in the registration fee is access 

to the vendors’ area, hospitality room, PTSD seminar, 

and cookout with a parachute jump on the beach by the 

Army’s Golden Knights. Buses will be provided to take 

attendees from Avista Resort to nearby shopping and 

attractions. 

Accommodations: Avista Resort in North Myrtle 

Beach will serve as headquarters for the reunion. The 

oceanfront resort features 1, 2 and 3-bedroom condos, 

indoor and outdoor pools, fitness center, and more. 

Hotel accommodations are not included in the reunion 

registration fee; however, all attendees will be given a 

special group rate. To make reservations, call 

1-800-968-8986 and use reservation code 1317183. 

(continued…..) 


Page 25 of 62

Oceanside Pool Area at the Avista 

USS Yorktown, Charleston, South Carolina 

Day trip: Don’t miss our day trip to Historic 

Charleston, South Carolina! Cost includes 

transportation to/from Charleston, a visit to Patriots 

Point Naval & Maritime Museum, home of the USS 

Yorktown, a horse-drawn carriage ride through 

Charleston’s historic district and a drink and box snack 

for the ride home. There will also be a stop at the 

historic city market for lunch and shopping on your own. 

See the registration form to sign up. For complete 

details, including online registration, online hotel 

reservations, itinerary, and who’s attending, please visit 

our website at: www.173rdreunion2010.com 

Should you have any further questions, please feel free 

to contact me at the number below. 

Wayne Bowers, C&D 2/503d ‘67-‘68 

173d Airborne Brigade Association 

SC Chapter 30, 803-237-3169 

Sky soldiers….FALL IN!! 

173d AIRBORNE BRIGADE 

ASSOCIATION 

TENTATIVE 2010 REUNION SCHEDULE 

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 2, 2010 

09:00 - 17:00 - Registration - Ballroom C 

09:00 - Until? - Vendor Tables - Ballroom A 

09:00 - 24:00 - Hospitality Room - Ballroom B 

18:00 - 20:00 - Welcome Reception - Pool Plaza Area 

18:00 - 19:00 - Active Duty Briefing - Loc. TBD 

18:00 - 20:00 - Association President’s Reception 

Ballroom C 

19:00 - Until? - Mini-Reunions (Each unit to organize 

their own gathering) 

THURSDAY, JUNE 3, 2010 

07:00 - 08:00 - Eagles Nest Golf Tournament 

Transportation 

08:00 - 17:00 - Charleston Bus Trip 

09:00 - Until? - Eagles Nest Golf Tournament 




17:30 - Until? - Golden Knights Jump on LZ North 

Myrtle Beach; Concert to follow 

FRIDAY, JUNE 4, 2010 

07:00 - 09:00 - Gold Star Family Reception and 

Breakfast - Tree Top Lounge 

09:00 - 12:00 - Board of Directors Meeting - Tree Top 

Lounge 




12:00 - 15:30 - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder 

Seminars - Tree Top Lounge 

16:00 - 17:30 - Interactive Presentation by WWII 

503rd vets - Ballroom B 


SATURDAY, JUNE 5, 2010 

08:30 - 12:00 - General Membership Meeting - 

Ballrooms A/B/C Theater Style 

08:30 - 10:00 - Ladies’ Event - Tree Top Lounge 

09:00 - 12:00 - Registration - Mezzanine Area - 

Second Level 



16:00 - 17:00 - Transportation from Avista Hotel to 

House Of Blues 

16:30 - 17:30 - Cocktail Hour 

17:30 - 19:00 - Color Guard/National Anthem/ 

Speakers 

19:00 - 20:30 - Dinner 

20:30 - 23:00 - Dancing 

20:30 - 23:30 - Transportation to Avista Hotel 

SUNDAY, JUNE 6, 2010 

08:00 - 09:00 - Memorial Service - Pool Plaza Area 

at North Lawn 

(In case of rain - Ballroom C) 

09:00 - LZ North Myrtle Beach Closes - 

Mission Complete 

House of Blues, Myrtle Beach 


Page 26 of 62


Page 27 of 62

PTSD Fact Sheet 

What is Posttraumatic Stress Disorder? 

Posttraumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD, is a psychiatric 

disorder that can occur following the experience or 

witnessing of life-threatening events such as military 

combat, natural disasters, terrorist incidents, serious 

accidents, or violent personal assaults like rape. People 

who suffer from PTSD often relive the experience through 

nightmares and flashbacks, have difficulty sleeping, and 

feel detached or estranged, and these symptoms can be 

severe enough and last long enough to significantly impair 

the person's daily life. 

PTSD is marked by clear biological changes as well as 

psychological symptoms. PTSD is complicated by the fact 

that it frequently occurs in conjunction with related 

disorders such as depression, substance abuse, problems of 

memory and cognition, and other problems of physical and 

mental health. The disorder is also associated with 

impairment of the person's ability to function in social or 

family life, including occupational instability, marital 

problems and divorces, family discord, and difficulties in 

parenting. 

Understanding PTSD 

PTSD is not a new disorder. There are written accounts of 

similar symptoms that go back to ancient times, and there is 

clear documentation in the historical medical literature 

starting with the Civil War, when a PTSD-like disorder was 

known as "Da Costa's Syndrome." There are particularly 

good descriptions of posttraumatic stress symptoms in the 

medical literature on combat veterans of World War II and 

on Holocaust survivors. 

Careful research and documentation of PTSD began in 

earnest after the Vietnam War. The National Vietnam 

Veterans Readjustment Study estimated in 1988 that the 

prevalence of PTSD in that group was 15.2% at that time 

and that 30% had experienced the disorder at some point 

since returning from Vietnam. 

PTSD has subsequently been observed in all veteran 

populations that have been studied, including World War 

II, Korean conflict, and Persian Gulf populations, and in 

United Nations peacekeeping forces deployed to other war 

zones around the world. There are remarkably similar 

findings of PTSD in military veterans in other countries. 

For example, Australian Vietnam veterans experience 

many of the same symptoms that American Vietnam 

veterans experience. 

PTSD is not only a problem for veterans, however. 

Although there are unique cultural and gender-based 

aspects of the disorder, it occurs in men and women, adults 

and children, Western and non-Western cultural groups, 

and all socioeconomic strata. A national study of American 

civilians conducted in 1995 estimated that the lifetime 

prevalence of PTSD was 5% in men and 10% in women. 

Hey Trooper. You think you are alone? You’re not. 

Help is available brother. You earned it, you deserve 

it, and you’re entitled to it. Help is there for the 

asking. 

FREE PTSD AWARENESS 

SESSIONS TO BE HELD AT THE 

173d REUNION IN NORTH 

MYRTLE BEACH THIS JUNE 

The difficult thing about confronting this illness is, it 

demands you look at yourself and your life. It requires 

you to uncover your demons; it necessitates you 

admitting you have some problems; and the hardest 

damn thing of all is, it forces you to ask for help....the 

one thing most of us have never been good at doing. 

While there is no magic cure or pill you can take for Post 

Traumatic Stress Disorder, there is treatment available 

which will better help you, and your bride or companion, 

and your kids, live with it. 

A unique opportunity will be made available to us all, 

including our partners, at the reunion this coming June. 

Dr. Scott Fairchild (ex LTC 82 nd Airborne), and Col. 

Judy Mathewson (active Air Force), are recognized and 

renown experts on the illness and in treating vets and 

their spouses. 

Sessions will be held on Friday, June 4, from noon to 

3:30 p.m. in the Tree Top Lounge, and include: 

PTSD BASICS 

VA DISABILITY PROCESS 

RELATIONSHIP ISSUES - COUPLES 

RELATIONSHIP ISSUES - VETS 

RELATIONSHIP ISSUES - SPOUSES/PARTNERS 

Doc Scott and Col. Judy will walk us through what 

PTSD is, the countless ways it manifests itself in our 

daily lives, ways many of us are unaware. They’ll 

explain treatment options available through the VA and 

in the private sector, and will provide answers to our 

questions, even those questions we don’t know to ask. 

Also addressed will be the many issues facing spouses 

and partners of combat vets who knowingly or 

unknowingly have been impacted by their vet’s time at 

war, and how these relationships can be improved and 

even saved. Learn about the VA claim process available 

to us as we seek treatment and compensation for this 

disability. 

Please do yourself, your wife, your kids and your 

grandkids a favor, attend these sessions. 


Page 28 of 62

PTSD SESSION LEADERS 

AT 173d REUNION IN NORTH MYRTLE BEACH, SC THIS COMING JUNE 

“Colonel Judy” 

Judith.mathewson@patrick.af.mil 

LTC Judith J. Mathewson began her military career as an 

enlisted member in 1986 in the Alaska Air National Guard, 

Anchorage, AK. She earned her commission at the Academy of 

Military Science, Knoxville, TN in 1987 and served as the 

Social Actions Officer from 1987 through 1992. Next, she 

became the State Social Actions Officer, Information 

Management Officer, and was chosen as Executive Officer for 

the Commander, Air National Guard. She served as the State 

Plans Officer, crafting the AK Air National Guard Strategic 

Plan. She was chosen to attend the Air War College in- 

residence at Maxwell Air Force Base, Montgomery, AL and 

earned her Master’s in Strategic Military Studies. She was the 

recipient of the Air War College Activities Award and earned 

the Air Force Community Service medal for volunteering in the 

local Montgomery schools and community. LTC Mathewson 

taught special needs students in the Anchorage School District 

and created a peer mediation/conflict resolution program to help 

students resolve disagreements at the lowest level. She taught 

“English as a Second Language” for two summers in Poland, 

and taught diversity skills to students in rural Alaskan 

communities. She was instrumental in starting the AK Troops 

Teachers Program to meet the needs of the rural Alaskan 

communities' teacher shortfalls. LTC Mathewson retired 

from the public education system in 2001. She served in the 

Elmendorf AFB Public Affairs Office, and later planned a high 

visibility conference with Secretary of Defense Cohen for the 

United States Air Force Counter-Proliferation Center. LTC 

Mathewson was a Topical Research Intern for the Department 

of Defense Equal Opportunity Management Institute (DEOMI) 

with emphasis on Asian American culture. She holds a Master’s 

degree in Guidance and Counseling, Special Education, and is 

completing her dissertation for her Ph.D. in Marital and 

Family Therapy. She serves as Program Manager for the 

Equal Opportunity Reserve Components Program and Air 

National Guard Liaison at DEOMI, Patrick AFB, FL. Colonel 

Judy has lead numerous PTSD treatment programs for our 173d 

troopers and their spouses. 

“Doc Scott” 

info@baytreebehavioral.com 

Dr. Scott Fairchild is a licensed psychologist who 

operates Baytree Behavioral Health in Melbourne, Florida, 

and was the Founder and Co-Director of the Stress, Trauma 

and Acute Response (STAR) Team for Kennedy Space Center. 

Additionally, he has founded Welcome Home Vets, Inc., a not- 

for-profit organization operating in Brevard County, FL to 

support returning Florida veterans with their transition and 

reintegration into the community. 

Dr. Fairchild served 21 years on active duty with the Army 

Medical Department from 1975 to 1996, and retired as a 

Lieutenant Colonel. While on active duty, he worked in combat 

health care administration for half of his career, before complet- 

ing his Doctorate of Psychology at the University of Denver and 

his internship at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in 1989 and 

entering clinical practice. 

Dr. Fairchild completed his doctoral work on Human Interaction 

in Space Travel and Space Operations and also later trained in 

Aviation Psychology serving with Aviation and Airborne units. 

He was selected for the first congressionally mandated 

Psychopharmacology Demonstration Project, which trained 

active duty psychologists to prescribe medications. 

Dr. Fairchild specializes in working with Posttraumatic Stress 

Disorder primarily in Veterans who come from across the 

country for evaluations and treatment. He has worked with 

PTSD, mood disorders, ADHD, dementia and Alzheimer’s 

disease, as well as other brain-based disorders. He has been a 

strong supporter of technology to identify and treat emotional 

disorders. He has most recently teamed with Synaptic 

Connections to bring advanced neuro-assessment and treatment 

tools to the Brevard County area to serve the needs of patients 

throught the entire Southeast. 

Doc Scott has treated 173d troopers from throughout the 

country. The Doc was a paratrooper with the 82 nd Abn. 


Page 29 of 62

ABOUT PTSD 

You’re not alone 

“Some days, I just don’t know if I can make it to the next 

day…. I’ve been suckin’ it up for so long.” 

Remember when you got back from ‘Nam and a lot 

of people were sayin’ “You’re different”? Remember 

how you thought something was wrong with THEM 

or that you were just born to be an asshole? 

“I went to Vietnam a young boy and I came back 

an old man.” 

“My body came home, but my mind it still 

there.” 

Remember the hard drinking you did just to 

keep the damn lid on the nightmares and keep 

the flashbacks away or get at least a couple 

hours of sleep? 

“Sleep, what’s that?” 

“The only way I can get to sleep is with my best 

friend, Jack Daniels.” 

“The other day someone asked me when I was in 

Vietnam. I told them last night and every night.” 

Remember how you worked three jobs and kept busy 

as hell, just to not think about the stuff? 

“Hell, I was never home. If I had time on my hands, I’d 

just end up either drinking or thinking, or drinking to 

stop thinking.” 

Remember how you saw shit no young man, or old 

man for that matter, should ever see? 

“Those assigned under me in Iraq…….They were kids. 

Twelve weeks ago they were at Publix asking if you 

wanted paper or plastic, now I’m sending them back in 

body bags.” 

“I woke up choking her and I didn’t even know where I 

was. I was sweating like a horse after a race.” 

“Some days I’m just numb. Most days I just don’t give a 

shit.” 

“I guess it all started when I sailed to England on the 

Queen Mary chased by German U-boats. Then is was 

the beach landings in Sicily and Africa and the Battle of 

the Bulge and Normandy.” 

Remember when you thought you had this stuff in 

check and then you retired and it came up and hit 

you like a Tsunami wave? 

“I get so pissed for no good reason. I can go from zero 

to a hundred and ten in a heartbeat.” 

“Since I stopped working, it has hit me like a brick. I 

just can’t get it outta my head.” 

“I stay at home, so I don’t end up in jail. I don’t want to 

be around anybody.” 

Remember the days when you wished you just 

couldn’t remember any more? 

“I go out in the woods for days just to get it out of my 

head.” 

The Vietnam veteran has an average of 3.8 wives. 

Relationships following repeated deployments to Iraq 

and Afghanistan are falling apart in 90 days. 

“I don’t want to be around anyone anymore.” 

“Why can’t she just learn to leave me alone?” 

What are some of my brothers sayin’ about the help 

they got? 

“It took at least six brothers to tell me before I went and 

got some help.” 

“Finally, I had a name for it.” 

“It (treatment) saved my marriage.” 

“I’m still an asshole, but at least I know how to handle 

with it.” 



Page 30 of 62

“It never goes away completely, but at least I can live 

with myself now and others can be around me. I’ve got 

some control over it.” 

“For the longest time, I thought I was alone....the only 

one who was screwed up.” 

Why should I get paid for something that happened 

so long ago? 

“When I got my back pay from the VA, I felt good for 

about 15 minutes, then I realized it didn’t take away the 

PTSD.” 

“It [compensation] is a small token for the price I paid, 

a small Welcome Home for the Welcome Home I didn’t 

get.” 

“It’s not about the money, it’s about somebody 

recognizing my sacrifice and how it messed up my life.” 

PTSD has existed since the beginning of time. It 

wasn’t until about 20 years ago, we began to identify 

the constellation of symptoms that include reexperiencing 

(reliving), avoidance and emotional 

numbing, and persistent arousal (always on edge) 

and have a name for it. 

LEARNING TO COPE 

Over 75% of the individuals who come to see us don’t 

believe they have PTSD. When they leave they have 

a name for the wildness of all of these years and also 

they have some directions for how to get help. 

If you have plans to attend the reunion at North 

Myrtle Beach, we encourage you (and your 

spouse/partner) to join us on Friday June 4 th , to hear 

some genuine testimonies from your fellow 

paratroopers and their partners and to learn some 

effective ways to wrestle with some of those PTSD 

demons. 

[Airborne Psychologist Scott Fairchild, LTC, US 

Army (ret) and LTC Judith Mathewson (active US 

Air Force Guard) will conduct PTSD awareness and 

VA Claim Process sessions from 12:00 – 15:30 ] 

We will also have a brief PTSD questionnaire which 

can be scored on site and confidentially tell you 

whether you have PTSD or not and how severe it 

might be. 

So….stand-up, hook-up, shuffle to the door and make 

an important decision to drop by and see us. 

Keep your feet n’ knees together, 

Airborne brother, 

Doc Scott Fairchild 

LTC, 82 nd Airborne (Ret) 

Dr. of Psychology 

Baytree Behavioral Health 

1370 Bedford Drive, Suite 106 

Melbourne, FL 32940 

Phn: 321-253-8887, Eml: BaytreeBehHlth@aol.com 


Page 31 of 62

OUR WWII 503rd PRCT 

GUESTS 

We’re pleased and honored to announce 

we have named the five guest paratroopers and their 

companions, and the widow of a paratrooper, Mrs. 

Margee Linton, wife of the late Maurice “Sleepy” 

Linton, of the WWII 503 rd PRCT who fought in the 

Pacific, and who will be attending the 173d Airborne 

Brigade reunion in North Myrtle Beach, SC in June. 

We’re including brief bios on each man, and invite 

everyone attending to meet with and welcome these 

paratroopers to our reunion. 

Special recognition is due many for helping cause to 

happen what will surely be an historical event; 

paratroopers of the 503 rd coming together from WWII, 

Korea, Vietnam and wars in the Middle East, for what 

we believe may well be the first time ever, yet hopefully 

not the last. 

Particular thanks goes to troopers Wayne Bowers 

(2/503), Eddie Hair (1/503), Hal Nobles (3/503) and 

Tom Hanson (3/503) and their fellow reunion 

organizing committee members of SC Chapter 30 for 

their tireless work in preparation for this year’s reunion 

and their special efforts in connection with welcoming 

our WWII brothers to the reunion. 

Yet, these able men and their associates did not do this 

alone. Paul Whitman, an Aussie living in Manila who 

manages the 503 rd P.R.C.T. Heritage Battalion web site, 

and Nancy Young, secretary of the 503 rd association, 

played instrumental roles in helping coordinate this 

worthy endeavor. 

But, none of this could have happened without the direct 

financial support of the following 173d troopers and 

friends of the 173d & 503rd. Singularly and together, 

these good people have demonstrated the 

“AIRBORNE SPIRIT” 

IS WELL AND ALIVE! 

Kevin Austin (173d) 

Tim Austin (3/503) 

Jim Bailey (2/503) 

Gordon Baker (173d) 

Jesse Beachman (4/503) 

Dave Beal (2/503) 

Bob Beemer (2/503) 

Bill Berry (173d Eng.) 

Gayle Bethea (2/503 spouse) 

Jim Bethea (2/503) 

Jerry Bethke (2/503) 

Walter Bills (2/503) 

LTC Blanken (173d) 

Don Bliss (Caspers) 

Pat Bowe (2/503) 

Wayne Bowers (2/503) 

Mike Broderick (2/503) 

Bob Bruce (1/503) 

Dave Canady (2/503) 

Abel Candia (2/503) 

Bob Carmichael (2/503) 

Ed Carns (2/503) 

Mike Carver (2/503) 

Jimmy Castillo (2/503) 

Chuck Cean (3/503) 

John Chester (E/58 LRP) 

Jim Chieco (2/503) 

John Civitts (2/503) 

Bob Clark (5 th SF) 

Butch Clark (2/503) 

Harry Cleland (2/503) 

Tim Cloonan (173d Med) 

Bob Cockerill (173d) 

Dave Colbert (2/503) 

George Colson (2/503) 

Wambi Cook (2/503) 

Virgil Cooley (2/503) 

Gene Councelman (1/503) 

Buzz Cox (2/503) 

Ken Cox (173d) 

Larry Cox (2/503) 

Reed Cundiff 

Woody Davis (2/503) 

Gary Davidson (2/503) 

Gary Cucinitti (1/503) 

Reed Cundiff (173d LRRP) 

Gary Davidson (2/503) 

Woody Davis (2/503) 

George Dexter (2/503) 

Matt DeZee (N75 Rangers) 

Roger Dick (2/503) 

Tom Dooley (2/503) 

Jim Dresser (2/503) 

Frank Dukes (2/503) 

Mark Dunlap (2/503) 

Ken Eastman (2/503) 

Paul Epley (Bde PIO) 

Tony Esposito (2/503) 

Scott Fairchild (82 nd Abn) 

Paul Fisher (3/503) 

FL Chapter (173d) 

Bob Fleming (2/503) 

Craig Ford (1/503) 

Rick Fred (2/503) 


Page 32 of 62

Les Fuller (2/503) 

A.B. Garcia (2/503) 

Tony Geishauser (Cowboys) 

Jim Gettel (2/503) 

Steve Goodman (2/503) 

Jim Gore (2/503) 

Johnny Graham (2/503) 

Gary Granade (E-Troop) 

Joe Gray (2/503) 

Jim Green (2/503) 

B.F. Griffard (2/503) 

Dave Griffin (2/503) 

Mike Guthrie (2/503) 

Steve Haber (2/503) 

Eddie Hair (1/503) 

Larry Hampton (1/503) 

Tom Hanson (3/503) 

Mike Hargadon (2/503) 

Mike Harris (2/503) 

Barry “Bear” Hart (2/503) 

Jerry Hassler (2/503) 

Jim Healy (2/503) 

Robt. ‘twin’ Henriksen 

(N/CO Rangers) 

Dennis Hill (1/503 & 3/503) 

Wayne Hoitt (2/503) 

Ken Kaplan (2/503) 

Ed Kearney (2/503) 

Bill Knapp (2/503) 

Skip Kniley (3/319) 

Gary Kozdron (1/503) 

Joe Lamb (2/503) 

Virgil Lamb (2/503) 

John Leppelman (173d) 

Dave Linkenhoker (2/503) 

Joe Logan (2/503) 

Roy Lombardo (2/503) 

Bob “Luke” Lucas (2/503) 

Art Martinez (2/503) 

Frank Martinez (173d) 

Mike McMillan (4/503) 

Bill Metheny (4/503) 

Dave Milton (2/503) 

James Montague (2/503) 

James Mullaney (503 rd ) 

Rick Navarrete (2/503) 

Butch Nery (173d) 

Bill Nicholls (2/503) 

Jerry Nissley (2/503) 

Hal Nobles (3/503) 

Dave Norman (2/503) 

Ben Oakley (2/503) 

Dale Olson 2/503) 

Larry Paladino (2/503) 

Ed Perkins (173d) 

Marcus Powell (2/503) 

Anonymous (2/503) 

Ed Privette (2/503) 

Court Prisk (3/319) 

Gary Prisk (2/503) 

Ed Privette (2/503) 

Jim & Julie Quick (2/503) 

Ken Redding (2/503) 

Dan Reed (2/503) 

Paul Reed (173d) 

Bill Reynolds (2/503) 

Jack Ribera (2/503) 

Don Rice (2/503) 

Floyd Riester (Bde HQ) 

Jim Robinson (2/503) 

Lee Robinson (2/503) 

Don Rockholt (2/503) 

Andy Russell (2/503) 

Walter Russo (173d) 

Nick Sabree (5 th SF) 

San Diego 173d Abn. Assoc. 

Jack Schimpf (2/503) 

Roy Scott (3/319) 

http://corregidor.org/heritage_battalion/nycum/chx_alt 

For its successful capture of Corregidor, the 503rd was awarded a 

Presidential Unit Citation (US)and received its nickname, 

“THE ROCK REGIMENT”. 

AIRBORNE! ALL THE WAY!! 

John Searcy (2/503) 

Tom Siopes (2/503) 

Mike Sirmeyer (Cav) 

Pat Sirmeyer (E-Troop) 

Arvil Sirvula (2/503) 

Steve Skolochenko (173 Spt) 

Ken Smith (2/503) 

Lew Smith (2/503) 

Ron Smith (2/503) 

Ralph Southard (2/503) 

Larry Speed (1/503) 

Dennis Stanerson (3/503) 

Jimmy Stanford (2/503) 

George Stapleton (173d) 

Jim Stephens (3/319) 

Sam Stewart (2/503) 

Mike Sturges (2/503) 

Ed Swauger (2/503) 

Pat “Tad” Tadina (173d) 

Gus Thomas (1/503) 

Ted Thompson (2/503) 

Wes Thompson (173d Eng.) 

Thunderbird Chapter (173d) 

Joel Trenkle (2/503) 

Alton Turner (2/503) 

Steve Vargo (2/503) 

Terrel Vickery (2/503, 75th) 

Bill Vose (2/503) 

Dave Walker (Rngr/LRRP) 

William Wallace (173d) 

Bob Warfield (2/503) 

Russ Webb (2/503) 

Bill White (2/503) 

Jerry Wiles (2/503) 

R.R. Will (173d) 

Ron Woodley (173d) 

Pat Wright (2/503 & 4/503) 

Ray “Zac” Zaconne (2/503) 

Dwight Zimmerman (173d) 


Page 33 of 62

While at the 173d reunion in North Myrtle Beach don’t miss this opportunity to meet with paratroopers of the 

503 rd PRCT who fought throughout the Pacific and made the historical jump in to Corregidor. 

Moderator: 

TONY GEISHAUSER 


Page 34 of 62

~ HONORED WWII 503rd PRCT GUEST ~ 

Charles E. Breit (Chuck), 

was born December 25, 

1925, in Philadelphia, PA. 

At age 17 he enlisted in the 

Army in May, 1943. He 

took his basic training at 

Camp Croft, SC, during 

which time he volunteered 

for the paratroops. Chuck 

started jump school at Ft. 

Benning, GA in early 1944, 

and upon completion 

volunteered for demolition 

training (at age 16 he had 

prior experience in 

demolitions working for the Chuck Breit 

Cleveland Wrecking Company 

in Philadelphia and Camden, NJ). 

In October 1944, he shipped overseas to New Guinea 

where he joined the 503 rd PRCT. He then went to 

Mindoro, Philippines, where he was assigned to Regt. Hdq. 

Co., demolition platoon. Then Corregidor. Chuck’s job 

there was demolition and he was a flame-thrower man. He 

landed in a shell hole right in front of the long barracks 

which was his mission to secure. Upon landing the 

demolition groups gathered together and did just that. 

After two weeks of bitter fighting the island was secured by 

the Rock Force. Chuck was proud to serve as one of 

General MacArthur’s honor guards along with his assistant 

flame-thrower, Johnnie Banks. He was there to watch 

(then) Col. Jones say to General MacArthur, “Sir, I present 

you the fortress Corregidor.” 

After Chuck landed he marked the spot and later was able 

to retrieve his chute and sent it home with a wounded 

comrade, Cpl. Vincent A. Minkler. It now stands in the 

National Infantry Museum at Fort Benning, GA, where it is 

a memorial to all the members of the 503 who jumped on 

Corregidor Island. Returning to Corregidor 50 years later 

with his wife Dee, he found the shell hole still there. “Cold 

chills and deja vu indeed,” he thought. 

After his discharge on February 10, 1946, Chuck joined 

with a 17 th airborne vet and formed an air show, “Bobby 

Ward’s Sky Devils,” which lasted about three years. 

Utilizing his paratrooper training he performed delayed 

drops, wing walking and other stunts at fairs and carnivals 

all across the country. His partner had been an automobile 

Charles (Chuck) E. Breit 

stunt driver prior to the war so that was added to their 

repertoire. They then joined “Kochman’s World Champion 

Hell Drivers” performing head-on collisions, ice crashes 

and numerous other stunts. Chuck also doubled for Clark 

Gable in one of his movies. 

The show wintered in Miami, FL, and in 1952 Chuck met 

another ex-paratrooper from the European theatre who was 

working as a painter of radio and t.v. towers. Now ready to 

leave the road and 

wanting a warm 

climate, they joined 

forces and in 1952 he 

founded “Breit’s 

Tower Service.” 

BTS remains the 

oldest tower 

company in the 

southeast today under 

the direction of his 

son. 

Chuck retired in 

1996, and he and Dee 

were finally able to 

leave the Miami life 

in the fast lane to a Chuck, driving the girls crazy! 

place in west central 

Florida on a beautiful river. He stays very busy with home 

renovation projects and restoration of their 1940 45’ ELCO 

yacht upon which they lived for 25 years in Coconut 

Grove, FL. 

Chuck has stayed active and involved in the 503 rd PRCT 

Association WWII, serving as national president from 

1991-1993, and again from 2006-2008, and is a current 

board member. He is also the Deep South Chapter 

president and has been for 6 years. Chuck and Dee have a 

contented life and enjoy travel and visits from old friends. 

Interesting anecdote regarding Chuck: 

My wife was standing next to me when I opened the envelope 

with Chuck’s brief bio and photos. Before reading his bio, she 

picked up his photos and looked at the picture of him in his 

chute and said, “He looks like Clark Gable!” Ed 


Page 35 of 62


Tony Cicchino 

Regrettably, we were unable to obtain Tony’s bio and photos in time to make the newsletter. 

Instead, included is this interesting report about the Bob Hope Show on Noemfoor, Island. 

Many of us were fortunate to attend his show in Vietnam. 

For what it is worth, I remember Bob 

Hope’s visit to Noemfoor very well. 

The 462nd was with the 503 RCT on 

the opposite end of the island from 

where his show was to be held. Fighting was over and 

we were only bothered by Piss Call Charlie during the 

night. The Island was pretty secure by this time. Most 

of the CT went up to see the show. 

This was a march of about 7 - 9 miles on this little 

muddy road running thru the jungle. 

The show was held on a stage in front of a cleared hill. 

About 6 to 7000 soldiers. Some Navy personnel. Hope 

had Jerry Colona, Frances Langford, and a girl named 

Patsy (Thompson?) a dancer wearing a black one piece 

costume with pink trim at the bottom and around the top. 

Wow, what a sight for a bunch 

of filthy soldiers. It was a great 

show and I believe every man 

who saw it carried away 

wonderful thanks for Bob 

Hope's efforts on our part. 

Sure was worth the walk. 

Arlis Kline, Major 

CO of 462 nd P.F.A.B. 

The USO 

show was set 

up near the 

runway. "G" 

Co. was 

bivouacked just to the rear. All 

of us appreciated Frances 

Langford more than we did Bob Hope or Gerry Colona. 

We hadn't seen fair women for several months. There 

were a lot of loaded guns, and nothing to shoot at. 

Hope got us laughing easily, but he had to tell us jokes 

first to do it. All the gals had to do for a round of cheers, 

Langford especially, was just be there." 

Chet Nycum 

"G" Company 

I had a very good seat about 50 rows or 

so from stage. I could clearly see the 

faces and Jerry's mustache. I'm amazed 

that we had so many troops there. Far 

more than I remember. As I recall there were reported 

snipers still around. Fills a gap in my memory. 

Thanks....great shot. 

Paul Turley 

“F” Company 

Panorama by Charles Morford 


Page 36 of 62


Second Lieutenant Cleland, along 

with 12 other replacement 

lieutenants, joined the 503 rd 

Parachute Infantry Regimental 

Combat Team on Negros Island, 

the Philippines in June 1945. He 

was assigned to the regimental 

Headquarters Company as 

Assistant Demolitions Platoon 

Leader and later became the 

Demolitions Platoon Leader. After MG John Cleland 

the Japanese surrender in August 1945, 

2 nd Lt. Cleland was placed in charge of the POW 

compound at Bacolod, the Capitol of Negros Province, 

with responsibility for securing, billeting, feeding and 

then transporting some 2,500 Japanese POWs to the port 

of Dumaguette for shipment to Leyte. When the 

Regiment was deactivated in October, 2 nd Lt. Cleland 

was assigned to the 11 th Airborne Davison in Japan. 

Major General John Cleland retired from the United 

States Army in 1980 after 37 years of active service. He 

enlisted at the age of 17 and, after service as an enlisted 

man, was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant of Infantry 

from the Infantry Officer Candidate School. 

John is a Master Parachutist and has been awarded the 

Combat Infantry Badge in three wars. His decorations 

include the distinguished Service Medal with oak leaf 

cluster, the Silver Star Medal, the Defense Superior 

Service Medal, the Legion of Merit with three oak leaf 

clusters, the Bronze Star Medal and the Purple Heart 

Medal with oak leaf cluster. MG Cleland is a member of 

the US Army Infantry Hall of Fame and is a 

Distinguished Member of his WWII, Korean War and 

Vietnam War Regiments. 

MG Cleland holds a Bachelor of General Education 

degree from Omaha University, a Master of Science 

degree in Foreign Relations from George Washington 

University and is a graduate of the US Army War 

College. He has completed the Harvard University 

Program for Senior Managers in Government and is 

a member of PHI Alpha Theta, the National Honor 

Society in History. 

John Cleland 

After retiring from the US Army John worked for 

20 years as a Defense Analyst and Independent 

Consultant to private Industry. He is a resident of 

Melbourne, Florida. He has also been active in the 

civilian community, serving on the boards of a number 

of national and local institutions. He has served as 

Commodore of the Eau Gallie Yacht Club and as 

Senior Warden of Holy Apostles Episcopal Church. 

MG Cleland has devoted an immense amount of time 

and energy to the Cape Canaveral Chapter of the 

MOAA. He was the chapter president for 1984 and also 

for 1985. He served on the national MOAA Board of 

Directors from 1990 to 1996. 

He was the chapter’s 

Legislative Committee chair 

for four years and the 

Awards Program chair for 

four years. He initiated the 

annual Past-Presidents 

Dinner/Dance that 

recognizes the service of the 

chapter’s past presidents. He 

began the MOAACC Gold 

Bar program for graduating 

FIT ROTC students. He is 

an invaluable part of the 

Speakers Program and is the 

guest speaker at numerous 

civic, community and 

fraternal organizations. 

John is married to the former 

Clara Webster Kehoe of 

Bealeton, Virginia. They first met in Korea where 1st 

LT Kehoe was an Army Nurse serving with the 1st 

Mobile Army Surgical Hospital (MASH), and he was a 

patient prior to being medically evacuated to Walter 

Reed Army Hospital. After completing her tour of duty 

in Korea, 1st LT Kehoe was assigned to Walter Reed 

Army Hospital where they met again and were 

married. They have five children. Three sons have 

served as officers in the United States Army. 


Page 37 of 62


Paul Hinds 

Paul L. Hinds joned the 503 rd in early 1942 at Ft. 

Benning, GA and was transferred to Ft. Bragg, NC for 

training during the summer prior to deployment to the 

Pacific Theater of Operations. He sailed from the west 

coast on Oct. 20, 1942 and landed in Australia on Dec. 

2, after 42 days aboard the aging Poelau Laut. The 

unusually long time at sea was a result of the captain’s 

adamant refusal to sail with a convoy. In Paul’s 

words..... 

“The 503rd PRCT was one lean, mean 

fighting machine. Anyone doubting that 

statement should contact the Gatekeeper of 

Hell to request an interview with one of the 

hundreds of enemy that our paratroopers 

sent there.” 

They zip-zagged across the Pacific to evade the Japanese 

submarines which infested the waters like sharks. Paul 

was with 2000 troopers sleeping in the ship’s hold, 

packed in like sardines. They had only 2 meals per day, 

but on Thanksgiving they were served a feast which 

filled both sides of their mess kits. By that time their 

stomachs had shrunk to such a degree the excessive 

quantity of food, partnered with the pitch and roll of the 

small ship, caused many troopers to become sick. 

Paul L. Hinds 

Paul’s only combat jump 

occurred on July 4, 1944, one 

national holiday he will never 

forget! Upon exiting the 

aircraft his M-1 rifle became 

entangled in the parachute’s 

risers and created pain in his 

left shoulder. 

Then, to make matters worse, 

he landed in a mud hole on the 

gravelled airport runway. 

When he stood up, he was 

cussin’ up a blue streak. Paul 

turned around and who should 

be standing beside him? None 

other than the regimental 

chaplain, whose wry smile 

indicated that all was forgiven. 

On the morning after the 

initial jump on Corregidor in 

Feb. 1945, he flew over the 

island on a resupply mission. 

After having pushed the 

supplies out of the Gooney 

Bird (C-47), Paul took Paul, after 503 rd captured 

several pictures of the topside the airstrip on 

by standing in the door with Noemfoor Island. 

no parachute, steadied only by 

the lieutenant grasping his belt with one hand while 

holding onto the static line with the other. “Fortunately, 

he had a good, strong grip!!!” 

After surving 33 months, many of which were spent 

in the hot, mosquito-ridden, snake-infested jungles of 

New Guinea and several of the islands of the Philip- 

pines, he returned to the United States in August of 

1945. “I was aboard the first troop ship to arrive in San 

Francisco after the Japanese surrender. What a 

Glorious Day!! 


Page 38 of 62


Charley Hylton 

Charley W. Hylton was born January 9, 1922, in 

Swordscreek, Virginia. He was the 2nd of sixteen 

children. His father was a coal miner. Charley enlisted 

in the Army on January 18, 1940, just nine days after his 

18th birthday. Even though his father had provided well 

for the family while working in the mines, Charley 

decided at an early age that coal mining was not for him 

so he joined the Army seeking better opportunities. 

His first assignment was the 12th Infantry in 

Washington, DC with the Special Services at Arlington 

Cemetery. Later he was assigned to Fort Jackson, SC 

with the 8th Division. (While there, he met and later 

married his first wife, Willye Grey Meetze. They had 

two children). He was reassigned from the 8th to the 

77th Division. Charley volunteered for paratroop 

training. After qualifying as a paratrooper at Fort 

Benning, GA, he was sent overseas as a replacement in 

the 503rd. The 503rd was in Brisbane, Australia when 

he joined them. He sailed aboard the Monticello, a 

converted Italian liner, for 31 days to get to Brisbane. 

The ship had in excess of 4,500 personnel on board. 

Charley stayed with the 503rd in all their operations 

until August of 1945. He was in “E” Company. 

Charley W. Hylton 

They went first to Noemfoor, then to Mindoro, and then 

jumped on Corregidor. After that, they went back to 

Mindoro and then Negros, where he served as a Scout 

for his Platoon. He was a Tech Sergeant when released 

in August of 1945 after rotating home on the point 

system. He was aboard ship on the way home (three 

days out of San Francisco), when the bomb ending the 

war was dropped on Hiroshima. 

After returning home, he worked maintenance in a 

cotton mill for a while and then started his own business 

doing plumbing and electrical work. He retired from 

that business when he was 64. He and Edith, his wife of 

seven years, live in West Columbia, SC. 

One sharp lookin’ Sarge. 


Page 39 of 62

~ HONORED WWII 503rd PRCT TROOPER ~ 

Maurice Linton Margee Linton 

Maurice Linton was born March 21, 1919 in Jacksonville, 

Florida. He moved to Orlando, Florida in 1924. He went 

through Orlando schools and graduated in 1939. He 

received a full football scholarship to Rollins College in 

Winter Park, FL. He joined the Florida National Guard and 

was assigned to Co. K 124 Infantry. Much to his surprise, 

the National Guard activated! 

When Maurice heard paratroopers were drawing $50.00 per 

month in extra pay, he signed-up and graduated from jump 

school at Fort Benning, GA. He was transferred to Fort 

Bragg, NC. The 503rd was formed and he was assigned to 

Company G. 

The unit was sent to Australia via Panama to pick-up the 

501st Bn. In Gordonvale, Australia the unit trained for 

many months. His first combat jump was in New Guinea. 

He often talked about the times he spent in the jungle for 

days without food and shelter. He contracted malaria, 

along with many other tropical diseases. After the second 

jump in New Guinea, they went on to the Philippine 

Islands. 

On February 16, 1945, he was transported by landing craft 

to the Island of Corregidor and immediately in to combat. 

One of his memories was helping evacuate the wounded 

men from company A after the explosion on Monkey Point. 

Maurice loved to fight but was known to catch a minute of 

sleep at every opportunity, thus he acquired the nickname 

"Sleepy." He was scheduled to leave from Negros Island 

when the war ended. He finally arrived back at Camp 

Blanding, Florida on November 25, 1945. 

In Memory of Maurice (Sleepy) Linton 

Maurice loved Florida and wanted to settle down. He 

married Margee Bowden on June 9, 1946, and started a 

family. In June of 1948 he decided to return to the military. 

He was assigned to Co. H 505th Bn, 82nd Airborne 

Division, at Fort Bragg, NC. 

He served a tour of duty in Korea. Upon returning in 

1956, he was assigned to Fort Campbell, KY. When the 

101st Airborne Division reactivated, he served three years 

in the 325th Engineer Bn. After a tour in Germany, he 

returned to Fort Bragg, NC. He retired September 1, 1963, 

and returned to Orlando. 

Maurice was active in the 503rd Association as 

Secretary/Treasurer for many years. On December 

6, 2005 he was invited to represent the 503rd at Fort 

Carson, CO for the Change of Command of the 1st 

Battalion (air assault), 503rd Infantry Regiment after the 

unit returned from Iraq. 

Maurice "Sleepy" Linton passed away December 8, 2007. 

He is survived by his wife and five children, 10 

grandchildren and 10 great-grandchildren. 

Representing Sleepy at the 173d Airborne reunion this year 

will be his loving wife Margee Linton. 

~ ONE HELLOFA PARATROOPER ~ 

Maurice (Sleepy) Linton, G Company 503 rd , WWII. 

We were told he probably would have fought us 

had we called him Maurice. I believe it! Ed 


Page 40 of 62


Chester (Chet) Nycum was born 24 May 1921 in North 

Braddock, PA and joined the Army QMC in May 1939, just 

shortly after he turned 18. Army life was good to him, but 

lacked the challenge that an advertisement recruiting for 

parachute troops promised. Would he stay safe with the 

QMC or join the Paratroops? He commenced training at 

Ft. Benning, GA in August 1941, before there was a system 

of class numbers. After a six week Pacific cruise to 

Australia in an old Dutch tub, his military and jungle 

training continued in Australia at Gordonvale, North 

Queensland. He enjoyed the “outback” and developed 

bushcraft skills in Australia which helped him survive as a 

platoon scout. 

Within a week of arriving in Port Moresby, New Guinea, 

he became personally acquainted with malaria, dysentery 

and ran a fever to 106 degrees. Three for the price of one! 

He thus missed the Markham Valley Operation. 

Chet’s first combat mission was on Hollandia, New Guinea 

followed by Noemfoor, Mindoro, Corregidor, and finally 

Negros Island. After 3 years in the jungle as a lead scout 

he was discharged on points just weeks prior to the war 

ending. He’s written of his war experiences at 

http://corregidor.org/heritage_battalion/nycum/chx_alt.html 

Chester (Chet) W. Nycum 

Chet took Engineering on the GI Bill, and worked a variety 

of engineering jobs from production line supervisor to 

engineer at WSID Radio in Baltimore. His career changed 

when he was hired by Westinghouse Electric Corp., where 

he spent over 30 years working as the supervisor of ‘test 

and calibration of working standards’ and field 

troubleshooting airborne electronics. He retired at the age 

of 65 and remains active with the American Legion. He 

collects rare audio recordings, and considers that the 

Internet has given him a fresh lease on life. Margaret, his 

wife of 68 years, died in 2008. Chet now enjoys the single 

life. He lives not far away from the front gates of Fort 

Belvoir, MD. 

Chet ready for qualifying jump at Fort Benning, GA. 


Page 41 of 62

~ HONORING OUR WWII 503rd TROOPERS ~ 

Moderating the meeting with men of the 503 rd PRCT, 

will be Tony Geishauser. 

After three and a half years in the US Marine Corps 

Reserve and attending college in Maine, Tony was bored 

with college and wanted adventure flying helicopters in 

Vietnam in 1966. It didn’t matter that he had never seen 

a helicopter up close and personal before that time. The 

Army radio ads were doing their job and enticed him to 

sign up and be all he could be. 

Tony was lucky enough to be assigned to Company A, 

82nd Aviation Battalion - known as the “Cowboys.” 

Based out of Bien Hoa, Vietnam, their primary mission 

was to fly combat and support missions for the 173rd 

Airborne Brigade. 

Moderator 

Tony Geishauser 

On Tony’s first combat flight in Vietnam, he was flying 

in a flight of four helicopters with his best friend from 

flight school in the helicopter behind him. Just before 

landing at a “secured” LZ, Tony’s flight was taken under 

fire by a lone VC firing an AK-47. The helicopter in 

front of him was hit and the one with his friend, Jim, in 

it was hit. Tony soon found out his friend was shot in 

the head and killed instantly on his first flight. 

Tony went on to support his beloved “Sky Soldiers” 

after that tragic first flight. The largest battle he was a 

part of was on Operation Silver City in War Zone D. 

His helicopter was loaded with hot A rations for the 

2/503d that was located in an LZ area called Zulu Zulu. 

Unknown by anyone at the time, the battalion was 

surrounded by nearly 2,000 VC and NVA regulars. 

Tony’s helicopter was shot down almost as soon as it 

arrived which began an epic battle where upwards of 500 

NVA and VC were killed to the 2/503rd’s 11 KIA and 

over 200 WIA. 

Tony retired as a 

major and a 

Master Army 

Aviator and has 

had a successful 

Public Relations 

and Media 

relations career in 

Texas. 

Tony, a young 

chooper pilot in 

Vietman, 1966. 


Page 42 of 62

Sent in by Jack (Jackattack) Ribera, A/2/503d 


Page 43 of 62

THE PASSING CAPTAINS 

By Tony Sierra 

D Company, 503 rd PRCT 

Tony 

Fifty Decembers have passed… 

many of them memorable and as in 

every one’s life many things transpired 

in those periods. Keepsakes of those 

cold months have faded like a newly dipped paintbrush 

rubbed backwards to the first month. However, it is that 

first December standing out as the dominant period 

when my life’s emotions crested. 

Tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick…this was the 

merest sound daring to penetrate the solid wall of silence 

dominating the neighborhood where I was raised. 

Nothing tainted the sky; not a speck of light, not the 

tiniest reflection from the ocean of neon bulbs over the 

city only blocks away. 

Despair and nostalgia slowed me from pressing the 

doorbell, as I walked onto the mat astride my Mama’s 

front step. Standing before the closed door I conceded it 

was fitting the grandfather clock my brother sent years 

ago from Germany seemed to run in reverse. After an 

eternity away, I returned home this December seeking to 

resurrect my youth. Four years had past since last I was 

here. 

“Dios mio, you are here! Hold me before I drop, 

no lo creo, I cannot believe it is you.” Mama squeezed 

me with all the strength her heart possessed and shed 

tears depressed within her for several years. “Hijo, you 

look so marvelous, like a dream…you make a wonderful 

Captain with all your ribbons and medals.” 

For moments I could say nothing but in the end 

I said, “Mama, I am only a Sergeant but whatever I am 

does not count. Only that I am here is important.” 

The hearts of men come, perhaps rather more 

often than those of women, to steep places down 

which the least touch will cause them to hurl 

themselves. 

I flopped on a chair, held Mama as close as I 

could and sensed her sobbing against my ribbons and 

in her chest was a vigorous pounding. At the 

moment all the war things were forgotten and I 

whimpered like a baby. I had returned home and 

only the clock’s weird ticking and our wailing 

disturbed our reverie 

As fate decreed, life levelled off a few months 

after some of us returned from our wars and others 

from their own pursuits. As time went on the 

euphoria passed with the appropriate celebrations and 

the predictable hangovers. Shortly the days once 

again aligned themselves into old routines and in 

many cases newer forms of them. We were entering an 

era where new Captains were coming forth. Not the 

Captains familiar to me, with the medals, ribbons and 

the silver bars as Mama had misjudged on the night of 

my return, but rather a new breed I thought as Captains 

of a new forward movement. 

In my telling of events of that long past December 

and other forty nine ones following, I use the title 

“Captain” generically, I classify my comrades of that era 

strong hearted, visionary and courageous, whether they 

carried the rifle as I did or not. In my perception we 

were all Captains, even if some wore metallic rankings, 

others wore cloth stripes while most wore only their 

common uniform and what their soul and heart brought 

from their naive adolescent years. Additionally, some in 

time rose to such high rankings it is difficult to believe 

all this really occurred when viewed from my 

perspective after the passage of so many decades. 

Once the national war time adrenaline, which had 

shot so high, returned to normal the race was on to do 

things we never dreamed possible. The country sped in 

all directions with such intensity that hardly anyone was 

left behind. And the drivers of these movements were 

the same Captains who had driven the war to a 

tremendous victory; it was incredible that many had 

risen from such humble beginnings. 



Page 44 of 62

Photo taken at Port Moresby airstrip after Nadzab jump. 

October or November 1943. This is one of the regiment’s 

original squads. It shows a typical, ragtag group of 

outstanding troopers. By mid 1945 the entire squad, with 

one exception, Tony Sierra, was gone. 

And now my Captains became engrossed mainly 

in one thing, to get back step by step, the parts of their 

life lost or destroyed, by friend or foe, and pay 

themselves for everything they had dared and endured. 

As there was a Captain in every town and home, they 

became a portent. 

Politicians feared or wondered at them, planners 

and new businessmen served them and themselves 

through them. 

For they were the new country, the relentless spirit 

built in those horrible days when so many battles were 

on, never really knowing who was winning, one side or 

the other; they were that spirit that forgets nothing, but 

maintains itself amid all disasters, and necessities. For 

they were perhaps the most concrete expression of our 

country’s instinctive survival in spite of its own 

perversity and ignorance. 

Never in my wildest dream, especially during the 

“foxhole” days, did I envision amounting to anything 

more than what my forefathers had been. There was 

honor in their labor, but that is what it was “labor” and I 

together with millions of others anticipated we would 

return to only that. What else could we expect? Many 

as in my case had never completed high school. And the 

entire country was swamped with guys like me with the 

military stars still in our eyes never thinking all this 

would end one day and the day approached faster than 

any of us imagined. 

But subtly, while each of us had been about our 

“war business,” this enterprise itself planted a seed 

within us which was to render a greater service to the 

country and in a special way to our families far 

exceeding the just-past melodrama of the turmoiled 

world. 

As each of us strived to once again return to 

normal affairs we slowly realized whatever we tried, 

even whatever aspirations entered our heads appeared 

too mundane, too far beneath the tremendousness of 

what we had been through. 

This is not to say every one was of the same 

sentiment. A great number were able to return to the 

exact position and place they had left, almost as if they 

had merely taken off for a long weekend and whatever 

tools they used in their labors had barely cooled from the 

heat of their hands. Looking back over this more than 

fifty years, I would estimate about half the men 

returning, came to the spot they had left. Thousands of 

them married the girls they kissed goodbye when they 

boarded the gangplanks and in some cases lived out their 

lives in the house where they were raised and was 

possibly next door to where the girl kissed at the 

gangplank lived. 



Page 45 of 62

These contented returnees were Captains, in their 

own quiet way. Over the years when we ruminated 

together we conceded life was such that the “quiet little 

man” frequently carried not only his own load but often 

the load of some one above him. We deemed successful 

a mortar barrage, not only for the gunner’s accuracy, but 

due in great part to the guy who trudged 

beside him for miles overloaded almost to 

exhaustion with the ammunition. This 

was as true in civilian life as it was in the 

military. 

In life there rarely is a momentous 

gain without some corresponding return 

payment. Often at moments it seems the 

payment exceeds the gain. But this is an 

untruth; a crutch for the failure of those 

unwilling to exert their all in search of 

some gain. These were not genuine 

Captains; not the Captains I speak 

of…those who refused to make this 

payment. However, in the main most of 

the men remained Captains. 

I remained as close to my own 

buddies as if we had never left the 

foxholes. I was amazed at how well they did. In most 

cases they succeeded mightily in whatever they had 

attempted. Many were entrepreneurs; others advanced 

up in the professions, medicine, education, finance and 

other endeavors. A few wrote books, others managed 

corporations and some even became endeared 

politicians. Not all materially enriched themselves or 

moved in prominent circles but once again in their own 

quiet way like the ammunition carrier, they achieved 

some measure of accomplishment. 

In time the country fleetingly called us “the 

greatest generation” and for a while a certain celebrity 

status was rendered. Books were written, movies were 

filmed, and television embraced the entire enterprise as 

if they had been asleep while all this was happening. 

Nearly every community went on a monument building 

binge, wanting to be first to grand stand with showy 

monuments and soon nearly every park in the country 

had its own WWII veterans’ homage. 

A natural phenomena; likes attract and the 

Captains met from time to time in their own groups, 

separate, but intrinsically joined as cells are in the 

totality of a body. Each told and retold his story. The 

details differed, but the profundity of the experience was 

all the same. That is why they were Captains. 

One infantryman would recount, “hell, I was a 

scout deep in the jungle in the Pacific. We were there 

already for ten days and it had never quit raining. 

Everything was soaked and all I saw was my second 

scout. You and I are the only two humans in this whole 

world, we could just disappear and no one would ever 

know what happened to us. What the hell are we doing 

here? Where is the Army and where are the Generals?” 

D Company troopers, 503 rd PRCT 

There was no end to the incredible events, “I was 

a paratrooper and my buddy was impaled on a tree 

stump on a night jump. The trunk ran through his entire 

body, from his nuts to his neck. The medics had to cut 

him in half to remove him.” 

Another said, “I was a submariner when we went 

into Tokyo bay, we sank a big ship. Our other sub was 

lost, my kid brother was a torpedo man on it.” 

Another sobbed when he related, “I was first 

sergeant of the company that scaled the cliffs on Utah 

Beach. We had ninety men in the outfit. Only twenty 

made it. One who did not make it was my brother, he 

was a squad leader.” 

“The plane was on fire, half the fuselage gone, I 

leaped, never jumped a chute before. I was a prisoner 

for the rest of the war. I lasted on potatoes and 

whatever leaves we could scavenge. I cannot tell you 

how cold it was, even today I have not warmed.” 

The telling went on and on every year at the 

reunions, over his drinks individual Captains’ eyes 

would moisten when stories like these were murmured: 



Page 46 of 62

‘The overloaded lead men dropped off the ramp on 

D-Day and never came up. The first man clearing land 

mines blew up and I was next, the Indian imprisoned for 

three years working the coal mines of Mongolia and 

hungering for the greasy meat of the rats abiding there. 

‘The ultimate exterminators’” he joshed, “‘we cleaned 

those tunnels of all its rats’; the tank driver who lost two 

arms when the tank burned out.” Over the decades of 

telling they built an encyclopedia not believed by most 

who were not Captains. 

But the interests of Americans are fleeting. The 

moment the super bowl ends next year’s teams are 

already in debate. And so as the shadows of age crept 

toward the Captains their status and positions were also 

already in question. 

A man’s pilgrimage through this world is never a 

smooth trip, no matter the road he chooses. It is a roller 

coaster ride, a joining of ups, downs, jerks and sudden 

starts. One can never foretell if the car will stop while 

the ride is on the high or tumble down derailed, 

uncontrolled. The years and their affairs subtly ebb so 

slyly; we are often asleep hardly ever waking up to 

them. 

The years passed and the generation matured. The 

world rotated in its slow ordinary way and we counted 

on gravity and fate to maintain our own balance, but 

even so I still saw my comrades flourishing, for in my 

heart they remained invincible. 

But just as mighty oaks one day must fall and the 

cliffs of Gibraltar must in the end crumble into the sea, 

so did the Captains’ destinies abate. They were ageing 

and night was creeping upon them. 

It is money that moves people’s sentiments and 

consciousness. Even if there had been sadness with the 

absence of the Captains, the very nature of the war and 

its requirements had set for those at home a tone of 

living never before seen. However, even amid all this 

splendor, some Captains never became involved in all 

this mishmash. Their hearts were left somewhere 

amongst the explosions. 

But the money, like the adrenaline, could not 

persist forever as a consequence of the war. 

Nevertheless, within several decades affluency had 

stabilized and most people, except the Captains, forgot 

the war and its characters. The monuments so 

enthusiastically built stood rusting and fading, collecting 

dust. Not too harshly, imperceptibly, but steadily the 

Captains lost their gloss. 

Great rivers like the Amazon, the Nile, the Rhine 

and others have for centuries hidden their places of birth, 

even today experts are unable to agree where each 

begin. Did they start in some obscure spring, in some 

underground flow from a mountain lake or from a 

collection of insignificant rivulets joined in some hidden 

dale? No one can say for sure. 

Under like circumstances the erosion of the 

reverence to the aging Captains began. No significant 

politician or other personage openly took contrary 

positions concerning them but a doubtful aura, a 

questionable attitude was sensed permeating our society; 

invading the country. Again no one could say for sure 

where all these begin, like the mysterious sources of the 

rivers. 

The Captains had years ago shown their courage, 

their staying power and their resolve. But nothing can 

ever stop or even slow the spinning of time’s hourly 

hands. So it was taking its toll on the Captains. Those 

who attained higher status were first to realize their 

down turning. They had further to fall. The rest, who in 

their own way had also succeeded but might not have 

reached notoriety, likewise faded but since they suffered 

only a short fall somehow they acquiesced in a milder 

manner. 

Day by day they abandoned their civilian duties, 

their businesses, their government positions, their jobs 

with the inevitable skimpy golden parachutes and 

whatever else had occupied them since the days of their 

youthful Captaincies. Many of the most hardy hung on 

longer than they should and even if “the spirit was 

willing, the flesh was weak”. But in the end the coming 

of each new moon clearly signaled their time was 

nearing its low point on that uncertain roller coaster that 

they had mounted so many decades ago. 

Once they were looked up to. Folks sought them 

out, to talk of how things were then and to seek advice. 

Children yearned to hear of the Great War. To their 

families they were champions. Their sons and daughters 

embraced them with great gusto not just courteous hugs. 

The grandchildren always rushed to find “grandpa”. 

Aside from all this, there were their buddies and the 

reunions and other gatherings. They came in the early 

years by the hundreds, anxious to meet at the 

“hospitality rooms” and to tell of their grown families 

and other personal things. They came to talk of little 

Jimmy and how he was now a cardiac surgeon. They 

elated to talk of the successes of the offsprings, as if that 

was an armor against the attack of age confronting them. 

However, when one or two drinks were consumed 

there was a fading in their delivery. Behind the bravado 

of how well things were going was a dimness. Hardly a 

word was said about them. The Captains. Each year the 

talks appeared darker. 



Page 47 of 62

The hint of future ventures and plans and projected 

visits appeared but only as cover-ups for the way life 

was treating them now. 

At the homes they had bought with so much 

sacrifice, when functions were held more often than not 

they were politely seated at far ends or even in corners, 

so as not to embarrass affluent guests with their farts and 

their belches; or not to brag too much of their climb of 

Mount Suribachi to visitors unknown to the Captain. It 

was a mere step from the attic where the “crazy aunt” 

had been hidden in the old days. What a blow to the 

Captain who had stormed the beach at Normandy. In 

whispers, it was even talked of confiscating his driver’s 

license. His grandson, newly licensed, would come 

every three or four days, maybe. 

And what of the remaining Captains? What do 

they say? 

Recently I stood curbside during an emotional 

patriotic parade. The Marine band, splendid in their 

uniforms played the Marine Hymn as the unfurled Flag 

gloriously waved in a gentle breeze. I asked another 

aged Captain, older than I, what he felt about all this and 

about his service in the Corps, which I knew had been a 

horrendous experience for him. He wiped a tear from 

his eye and responded, “in spite of the hypocrisy in our 

current society, I’ve had a marvellous life. But my one 

shinning moment in all this, one that no one can ever 

take away, were my years in the service. I am so proud 

of having served and even knowing how terrifying it all 

was, I would do it again if I could.” 

And now regularly one of the old paratroopers 

passes on. In the beginning his burial was a patriotic 

revelation, all who heard of him came. Some travelled 

even across the country to hear the nostalgically familiar 

sounding of taps. Every one shed tears. Often there was 

not enough room in the churches. One could hear the 

rattling of the Catholic rosary beads. It brought tears to 

the Captains who memorialized these rattlings from their 

times on the C47 planes and the landing barges, decades 

ago. 

But now, at these demises we are hard pressed to 

beg someone to come to these burials and blow some 

bugle and to ceremonially fold our flag and to render 

some words about one of the disappearing Captains. 

This task should be getting easier, for it won’t be long 

before it will not have to be done. Fifteen hundred every 

day. The Captains. 

~ A SOLDIER REMEMBERED ~ 

Here are some photos sent to me by 

Betty Slowe Olen, sister of one of the 

Pfc rifleman killed on Negros. I 

unexpectedly convened with her in San 

Diego and a connection was set. 

She was a younger sister 

when Slowe was with the 

the 503rd. Benny Slowe 

and I trained in the same 

jump class and ended up 

in the same platoon with 

the regiment. Only the 

joining in the same squad 

was unachieved. 

Slowe was an incredibly 

boyish looking trooper, 

fresh out of high school. 

Of course so were many PFC Benjamin Slowe 

others. I have conjectured he 

was killed due to his desire to excel as a soldier and 

hence dared beyond most of us. He was a wonderful 

young man and is typical of the unexhalted troopers of 

that era. 

Pfc. Slowe was machined gunned on an obscure ridge in 

the rain on May 2nd, 1945 on the Island of Negros. I 

cite him because he was additionally a great soldier on 

Corregidor, particularly on the 19 th of February during 

Lt. Endo's Banzai charge. 

He is interred in the military cemetery, International 

Falls, Minnesota. It gives me the impulse to some day 

visit him and recall his service with the regiment. 

Tony Sierra 

D Co., 503d PRCT 

MORE ON THE 

CORREGIDOR JUMP 

Of the 2065 men of both lifts, about 280, or approximately 

13.5 percent, were killed or severely injured. Of 

these, 2 [ex A Co., 504th PIR] were injured on landing, 

and another 50 wounded either in the air or on 

grounding. Some 180 had to be evacuated and 

hospitalized. Three men who suffered malfunctions and 

two who swung into the sides of buildings, were killed, 

and an unfortunate eight – mostly men who blew over 

the cliffs and landed in front of Japanese caves – were 

slain in the air or before they could get out of their 

chutes. Six remained missing after the final count was 

taken. 

James H. & William M. Belote - Corregidor, 

“The Stirring Saga of a Mighty Fortress,” Playboy Press 


Page 48 of 62

Landing on Corregidor...The Rock 


Page 49 of 62

CORREGIDOR STORY 

CONCLUDES 

Following is the conclusion to Chet Nycum’s story 

about Corregidor. The first part of his story, “Day 1 

- The Jump,” appears in Issue 14 of our newsletter. 

~ CORREGIDOR DAY 2 ~ 

Each soldier sees and 

remembers his own war. I am 

proud to have served with the 

men of the 503 PRCT. Being 

fresh from the farm, and one of 

lowest in rank, no one had any 

reason to inform me of where I 

was going or what I could expect 

when I got there, even though 

our purpose was quite clear. It's 

now 58 years later and my 

memories remain vivid. This is 

my war as I remember it, the 

one that still invades my dreams. 

Fate Intervenes 

Focus is a relative thing. 

Memory is always playing some tricks, 

and though I am in the process of 

auditing mine, I am still hazy on some 

of the sequences myself. The overall sequences across 

the entire island, across several days, which I need to 

memorize as if I was some omnipotent witness from the 

clouds, omnipresent at every action, still give me 

trouble. 

The passage of time on Corregidor is so difficult to 

remember -- there were two sorts of men on Corregidor 

- the ones who lived (and died) assiduously by time, 

recording its passage by the minute, writing it down in 

their diaries, on the backs of little pieces of paper, on the 

backs of maps etc. - and the rest of us, who let it flow 

over us like a tide, unrecorded, in which we were 

immersed by its passage around us, inundated by the fact 

that it continued for us, yet ceased to run for so many 

men on both sides. Time was a current in which we 

were swirled around by happenings in which the days 

and the minutes, the seconds and the hours seemed to 

have no meaning anymore, and no relationship to each 

other. We marvelled at how for some it came to an end 

all too briefly, bushido spirit be damned! Corregidor 

was even then a place where my own measurements of 

time were registered in now's, next's and suddenly's, 

rather than days, hours and minutes. After it was all 

over, the experiences were melded simply into a single 

measurement of passage called “my time on 

Corregidor.” 

As daylight of the second day unfolds, I scan the area for 

any sign of our enemy, and see none. 

We arise from our cover and prepare for the day, and the 

prospect that this day we will not be ‘in reserve’. There 

are some sore heads still from the night before. 

As I walk out onto the road I hear someone next to the 

truck calling me over. “Hey Nyk! Look at this!” 

I walk over to the truck and see a Nip lying crumpled on 

the road. It is the first Jap body I have seen here. 

“Who’s trophy is this?” 

“He took him with his knife,” someone says, and 

points to our medic. 

The medic, clearly not as shocked now as he must have 

been earlier, replies to no one in particular, “I don’t 

understand why he came to me to help him commit 

suicide.” 

We all laugh the laugh of the nervous, and move on. 

Our day is spent patrolling topside and cleaning out 

pockets of Japs wherever we find them. 

In the afternoon, towards 4:00 p.m., we are ordered to a 

position directly above Black Beach, and told we are 

there to give cover for a landing. There have already 

been landings the prior morning, so I am not expecting 

too much of a show. 

As I am laying there looking at the destroyer, now just 

off the East end of Bottomside, I see a small landing 

craft making for the beach. A Nip heavy machine gun 

opens up about 200 feet below my position. I see 

splashes up in front of the landing craft and sparks flying 

off the metal hull as the rounds strike on steel. The 

destroyer reacts to this threat and starts churning white 

water as her skipper puts her into reverse. 



Page 50 of 62

The large craft backs gently until she is laying in line 

with the machine gun, and it then dawns upon me that I 

too am along that same line, and that I am not in a good 

place to be for what shall likely happen next. 

I roll back from my dress-circle view on the rim of the 

crater, and wait. It does not take long, for the Rock 

beneath me shudders. I hear the machine gun return 

defiance, and a further naval volley shakes the ground 

underneath me. There is no further noise from the Jap 

MG in the orchestra stalls, though “to make sure,” the 

blasts continue. 

The landing craft reaching the beach, now drops the 

ramp and I see a man run down on the beach, where he 

squats down and appears to be waiting, guiding the men 

who are there and too anxious to go ashore. 

I don't know who he is, but he is one of the bravest men 

I have ever seen. As dangerous as being a scout might 

be, he can have that job, I’ll not trade. 

Men engulf him from the LCI and together with the 

others on the beach, they move towards Malinta Hill, 

like soldier ants with a solitary purpose. I see them scale 

the giant hill opposite me, quickly at first and then 

slower, and in several minutes I see men atop Malinta. 

It's still better to jump from a plane, I think to myself. 

We then move down to the cave housing the machine 

gun. To ensure it is knocked out, we blast the cave shut. 

Our 2nd Battalion is now on the Rock and is being 

moved into position. "G" Co. is moved back to its 

earlier position on the road sloping down toward North 

Beach. We patrol from this station throughout the next 

day. 

On the night of the 19th we hear signs of a possible 

Banzai off to our right front, towards Wheeler battery. 

Someone's dying over there, that's the case with those 

Banzais. I hope it's just Japs. 

I later learn that a scout called McCarter is being 

nominated for a CMH. (See CMH award in Issue 14. 

Page 40. Ed) 

Time starts to blur on me. At some time between the 

18th and the 21st I witness a major explosion of Malinta 

Hill. I forget what I am doing, because suddenly there is 

a large explosion and as I turn to look towards Malinta 

Hill, I see fire flaming out of the air vents on the sides 

and top of the hill. Smoke from the blast moves towards 

top side, and I wonder how many men who had been 

atop the hill are now dead, and how many Japs died in 

the Hospital that was inside the hill. 

The tank followed by men of the 34th moves around the 

north side of Malinta hill, and we are directed to follow 

and patrol their left flank. As I move down the road 

sloping down to North Beach I pass Trooper B standing 

over two dead Japs and laughing at the position they had 

fallen, almost as though they were in love. I paused long 

enough to take a series of three snapshots of the incident. 

then on to the job ahead. 

As we pass Malinta hill we came upon a number of dead 

Japs lying along the road, I don’t know if the tank’s 

machine gun killed them or they were killed by the 

troops following the tank. It was not hard to determine 

that the Japs had charged the tank. 

We move towards the left after 

coming around Malinta Hill, the 

Bataan side, and start searching 

for caves or dug-in troops. The 

constant danger is wearing me 

thin. I pretty much lose all 

recollection of time, as if my 

memory is playing tricks on me, 

refusing to work for me. 

For the next seven days we search for the hidden Japs, 

finding them only after they had fired at or killed one of 

our men. Our patrols are scattered like ants across our 

area of concern. As time passes on we stop trying to 

determine if there were any Japs in a cave, that’s just too 

dangerous. It is safer to close a cave than to care what is 

in there. That's if we can get there to close it and not get 

ourselves killed in the process. 

At one time I come upon my closest friend “Maxie.” 

He's standing just above a cave tossing WP (White 

Phosphorus) grenades and firing into the cave. He truly 

looks as though he is enjoying the fight. 

On 26 February, as we are working the Bataan side of 

the island clearing the area north of the air strip, we feel 

the air press in upon us, and then hear a tremendous 

explosion. I turn towards where the noise came at me, 

and find a huge ball of dirt and smoke in the air above 

where the 1st Battalion are today. Debris is flying high 

in the sky, and boulders are coming crashing down 

around us. Logs are flying through the air, and huge 

rocks too. It looks like a mountain is broken up and 

flying through the air over us. We look out towards the 

north channel, and we could see huge logs and rocks 

falling towards a destroyer patrolling the waters between 

Corregidor and Bataan. 



Page 51 of 62

It doesn't seem long before we are ordered to take over 

the lead, and I hear the words "Monkey Point". As I am 

running forward I chance to look down. In among some 

broken slabs of concrete there below me is our 

commander, Col. Jones. He's hunched down passing 

orders to his radio man. This surprises me because 

Officers of his status never put themselves in danger, 

don't they? Kinsler didn't, that's for sure. The Colonel 

must have brass ones. 

We're now in an area that has man-made gullies. I 

expect they're to carry the heavy rainfall towards the 

ocean, without scouring the landscape too bad. A road 

runs through the area and passes over a culvert. 

As I start to pass in front of the 

culvert I am fired upon from 

someone in the culvert. I am 

glad to know this, because I 

have seen guys who never even 

had a chance to know they 

were shot. 

I hit the ground and look for a way to get in a position to 

lay fire into the culvert. 

The culvert is under the road and the gully runs parallel 

to the road. The gully drain then makes a left as it heads 

toward the sea. I drop back and call for a bazooka 

gunner. Earl Shelton comes forward to me and I place 

him in a position at the left turn where he has good 

cover. 

"See if you can hit the corner of the culvert without 

exposing yourself,” I tell him. 

He takes one quick look around the corner and gives me 

the nod. Second looks around corners on this island are 

often fatal, and you don't even get to know you're shot 

they're so quick on you. 

"Wait 'til I'm in position to jump into the gully," I say. 

He knows by now that I'm going in to kill anything that 

survives his shot. 

I move to a point directly above and in front of the 

culvert, but where I'm protected by the bank of the 

gully. I give him the signal. As soon as the round 

explodes I leap into the gully and spray 45 slugs into 

three Japs I see. They are still moving, not in a effort to 

fight, rather, their bodies are falling forward as life 

leaves them. One, an older man, has half the top of his 

head blown away. The bazooka gunner has proved his 

expertise. I see a pistol hanging from the closest Jap's 

neck. I take my jump knife and cut it loose. I carry it 

back towards the bazooka gunner. 

"Nice shot, here’s a souvenir," I say as I give Earl the 

pistol. 

As I climb out of the gully I see a piece of sheet metal 

laying against the hill, slightly west of us. I shouted to 

the trooper closest to it "Look out, it may be a sniper!" I 

watch him intently as he cautiously moves up to a 

position directly in front of the sheet metal. He reaches 

down, grabbed the sheet metal and slides it to the side 

exposing a small cave occupied by a Jap. The Jap comes 

out swinging a bolo or bayonet. I look on as the trooper 

falls back trying to shoot his assailant, but his rifle 

misfires. He rolls down the hill with the Jap after him 

until one of the other men shoots and kills the Jap. 

My next object of concern is a group of 55 gal drums 

stacked two high forming a half moon barricade against 

the face of the hill. In a crouch, I move up to the drums 

and place my helmet on the barrel of my Tommy gun 

and raise it above the drums, hoping that if there are any 

Japs hiding in there I could draw fire. After several 

seconds with nothing happening, I extend my left arm 

holding the gun and helmet, intending that if any Japs 

are in the enclosure, they will be watching the helmet 

and allow me time to take a quck look inside. 

I popped my head up, am looking directly into a large 

cave. I see slight movement from the corner of my left 

eye, and duck down safe, where I can ready a 

phosphorus grenade. It's my last WP grenade, so I'd 

better get it right first time. I pull the pin, wait very 

briefly and toss it toward the area where I saw 

movement. The grenade goes off and before long, a lone 

Jap comes over the drums, his clothes smoking, running 

towards the tail of the island. The patrol are nearby and 

will cut him down. 

As I move back toward the rest of the patrol, something 

hits my right shoulder. I look down and see a small 

something falling to the ground. I have no trouble 

reaching down for it, and see it is an anonymous chip of 

shrapnel. As I attempt to draw my arm back to me, I get 

a severe pain in my shoulder. I suspect I am wounded, 

and try to move my arm to find out why it is just 

hanging off me. The pain becomes unbearable as I tried 

to move my arm. Trooper E, who is standing not far 

away, and who has seen something that I have not, 

shouts “Medic!” 



Page 52 of 62

The medics arrive and without as much as a "Howdy!" 

he sticks me with a needle. We've been on this island 

long enough for me to know that he knows what he's 

doing, and is too damn good at it. I am sitting behind 

cover, whilst he hovers around me. He quickly strips me 

to the waist and binds me in adhesive from my neck to 

my lower stomach. 

"Do you think you can walk?" he shouts at me, as if I am 

hard of hearing, simple, or worse - in shock. They help 

me to my feet and point me towards the west. Trooper E 

comes over and calls at me. 

"Nyk, how many Japs in the enclosure?" I think for a 

moment, just long enough to realize that I have no idea 

anymore, other than it is still a place of danger, a place 

that can still kill him as it almost did me. 

“Forty.” 

He’ll be careful now. 

(I met Trooper E at a association gathering, 

pleased to know he was still alive. He 

chided me that there were no more Japs in 

the compound, but I couldn't help but feel 

he was still alive because, dazed as I was, I 

loved him enough to refuse to allow him to 

drop his guard even for a moment). 

I stumble myself out of the gully and 

proceed west. I no longer recall how far I 

walked. Time ceases to run, and distances 

contract too. I pass the area where I saw 

Colonel Jones with his radio man some 

time ago. How long ago, I can no longer 

recall. Ahead l see white objects, 

incongruous, laying around the path that I 

am walking. I get closer and see they are 

shaped like cocoons. 

“Body bags,” I think, “but why? We don’t bag Japs.” 

It hits me worse than shrapnel. 

We don’t bag Japs! These are 

our guys. 

As I pass through this honor guard of dozens and dozens 

of our dead, our squalid, battered and glorious dead, a 

tightness develops in my throat, and tears smear my 

vision. It starts hitting me, hurting me, and I sob “Oh 

God!” as my ears hear nothing but a ringing sensation. 

I crumple to the ground between the rows of bodies as 

my vision fades and darkness comes. 

I don’t know if it was the effect of the shot the medic 

gave me or my emotional state or a combination of both 

that caused me to pass out, nor do I know how long I lay 

there until someone found me, but my next recollection 

was awaking in a huge chamber with many wounded 

men on cots. 

A man comes by and pauses long enough to say in an 

offhanded way, “Oh, you’re awake.” 

“Where am I?” No prize for being novel. 

He laughs, as if he's never heard that question before, 

and replies “On your way home, soldier.” 

I soon learn we are in the belly of an LCT (landing craft 

tank) and are being moved out to sea to be put on board 

a hospital ship, USS Comfort. I drift in and out of sleep. 

Time still has no meaning for me, only pain. 

Arriving at the Comfort we are lifted on stretchers by 

crane to the deck of the ship. My time on the “Comfort” 

is spent laying on a bunk and being treated like I am the 

King of Siam. All I have to do is to ask for something 

and it is delivered to me. They named it right. 

To my surprise they even wheel me up on deck after 

dark, to watch a movie. I do not enjoy the show, for my 

eyes are on the sky. I am riding on the biggest bull’s eye 

target that has ever been presented to the enemy - 

whoever heard of sailing through enemy waters with 

lights burning all over the ship? 



Page 53 of 62

What sort of an operation is 

this? Don't they know there's a 

war on? 

It doesn't pass my mind until later that I'm still thinking 

like a scout in a war zone, and that now neither of these 

roles apply to me. 

The trip is uneventful and we land at Hollandia. This is 

not the Hollandia I left not too long ago, and though they 

keep telling me where we are, I doubt it is the Hollandia 

I knew once. Now there are roads, buildings, traffic and 

people who go about their business, unconcerned. We 

are moved to a hospital and are assigned beds. Real 

beds! How long has it been? This is as close to heaven 

as I can get. I am like a kid with a big red balloon, and 

we're sure to run into a prick pretty soon. 

The very first nurse I see comes to my bed and asks if I 

can roll over on my left side. She stands there at 

attention, with a needle held at port arms. As I achieve 

my position she advances like a soldier charging with a 

bayonet and stabs me in my buttock. This procedure, I 

find out, is repeated twice a day for the next twenty 

days. The only variation is a change of buttock. 

On my second day the doctor calls for me to come to his 

office, where, with the aid of a nurse, he proceeds to 

unwind the adhesive from my body. As he pulls the tape 

from my right shoulder it feels as though he's sticking a 

hot poker into my shoulder. 

"How did it happen, son?" 

I can't answer him how, just why. "I thought I was 

sunburned." He laughs and continues taking off the 

tape. 

When I am unwound, he exclaims, 

“Someone is praying damned hard 

for you to come home!” His 

comment comes as he looks at my 

back and at the debris sticking to the 

unwound tape. He shows me tiny 

pieces of rock, sand, small pieces of 

what appears to be glass - a thing he 

calls "Mica." (The material that had 

lodged in my back will still be 

working its way to the surface ten 

years after I return home). 

He has me sit with my back to him 

while he numbs the area around the 

wound in my shoulder, and proceeds 

to probe for the shrapnel that has 

imbedded itself in my shoulder joint. 

Finding it he gently removes it, 

holding it with a pair of tweezers. 

"It looks like a bullet," but on closer 

examination he determines it is a 

fragment of steel. He dresses the 

wound. 

I stand facing him. He is holding my arm and gently 

working it back and forth, I figure, to see how much 

movement I have without pain. We heard planes flying 

overhead and he asks me, "Are they ours?" 

Chump Number 1, I fall for it. I lean to my left to better 

see out the window and OUCH! He jerks and twists my 

arm, I hear my shoulder pop. The pain has me gritting 

my teeth and clinching my fists. I look down sheepishly 

to see if I've just wet my pants. No. Good. 

The pain subsiding, I put on a macho act, just can't let 

these folk know that a paratrooper isn't tough. There is 

no doubt in my mind that doctor knew exactly what he 

was doing, even though his tactics were crude. Horses 

for courses, they say. 

While recovering I am allowed to move about at will, 

and I spent my time talking to other men in our ward, 

learning all I can about how the war is going. It is 

during one of these discussions that I chance to meet one 

of the sailors that had been on a destroyer patrolling 

Corregidor when we jumped. 



Page 54 of 62

"I timed your fall from the plane 

to the ground and it averaged six 

seconds." 

I think about this and decide that he is pretty close, 

since we left the plane at 400 ft. 

As days pass, and boredom sets in, one of the nurses 

brings me a book titled “The Great McGinty” about a 

guy who thinks it's tough to be out of work until he 

becomes Mayor. I read it twice over, going back and rereading 

the funny parts over and over again. It was a 

great book. 

Another event that happens each day, the nurses that 

were captured on Corregidor and had been prisoners of 

the Japanese, are brought out to exercise. We must be a 

fearsome bunch, for we are not allowed outside at the 

same time they are. Apparently the sight of men 

frightens them. 

I am now at the hospital well over one month and I feel 

as fit as I ever was. There's more news of how the war is 

going on at a hospital than at a HQ and so I keep track of 

where the 503d is. I am looking forward to getting back 

with the Regiment, who have returned to Mindoro. 

After nearly three years with the men of the 503d, they 

are my brothers and where they are is my home. I keep 

wondering when I will be discharged. I soon get my 

answer. As I get up one morning a ward attendant 

brings my clothes to me, complete with shoes and 

leggings. 

"Am I being discharged?" 

"No," he shakes his head, "you're being sent home." He 

shakes my hand and wishes me luck. 

I sit on my bunk for a spell, almost in shock. What am I 

to do? Stateside? No way! That's sure and certain. I 

pack my things and without delay I head for the air 

strip. I walk among the planes that are parked, talking to 

the crews until I find one that is headed for Mindoro. It's 

carrying a load of tires. I pin one of the crew and ask if I 

can hitch a ride? He talked to the pilot I got a nod. 

Takeoff time to be 0700 hrs tomorrow. I tell them I 

won't be late. 

I return to the hospital, where I don't sleep all night, for 

fear of missing my ride. I quietly slip out before dawn 

and hike to the strip. I locate the C-47 again in the 

flightline, and crawl in the back, and cat nap. This plane 

was the same as our jump planes, static line cable 

running the length of the cabin, and no door. Tires are 

stacked in vertical rows with rope and cable running 

from top to bottom through each stack. The pilot and 

co-pilot arrive about 0630 and made ready to take off. 

I can hardly believe my excitement at being able to get 

away with it! The plane takes off and as it banks right 

and left the stacks fall against the support ropes holding 

them, making a thump noise and just the slightest shift 

of the aircraft. I figure that if this did not bother the pilot 

there's no point in me worrying about it, so I spend most 

of my time during the flight looking out the door and 

just soaking up the beauty of the ocean. 

As we approach Mindoro I can see the town of San Jose 

and I lean out the door and snap pictures of the town as 

we fly across it heading for the air strip. After landing I 

hitch a ride on a truck back to our old bivouac area 

where the company is camped. After the greetings and 

welcome backs I am told we were are headed for another 

mission. Seems there is some division in trouble on 

Negros Island, who need help. 

During this short stay, McNeill shows me a pencil sketch 

of his idea for a regimental patch. Though it lacks color 

it should become the identity of our Regiment, unofficial 

until it becomes official. 

“I am proud, and I am home.” 

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

In the June issue of our newsletter we will continue 

Chet’s report on the War in the Pacific. 

- June 2010 Issue - 

“Having just enough time to get my gear together 

and my barracks bag put away, and the tents 

dropped, we're moved to the air strip where we don 

chutes and make ready for the jump on Negros. 

There are some new faces around me, and they 

make me feel like an old pro. 

I make the time about 7 a.m. There's the usual 

undercurrent of tension as we load on to the planes 

and taxi, which the take-off doesn't do anything to 

relieve. All is normal, and I am praying once again 

that my personal angel is at my side protecting me, as 

before. But there is something occurring on the 

aircraft though which is not usual. After about a half 

hour in flight the jumpmaster announces that the 

jump is off. The tension recedes but not for long, for 

his next words are, ‘Remove your chutes! Leave them 

on the plane, we are landing at Iloilo on the island of 

Panay and we will move to Negros by boat.’" 


Page 55 of 62

THE 503d HERITAGE BATTALION is an 

informal unincorporated social association formed 

around and by the WWII Veterans of the 503d 

Parachute Regimental Combat Team who have 

internet access. 

The 503d Parachute Regimental Combat Team 

Association, World War II, Inc. (”the Association”) 

had, some years back, voted democratically that it 

was to be a “last man standing” organization. This 

means that its membership register is finite, and that 

the Association is to be dissolved upon the death of 

its last member. 

For that reason, THE 503d PRCT HERITAGE 

BATTALION was formed with the intention of 

creating a body which could survive the loss of the 

last 503d WWII paratrooper. Its purpose is to 

support, preserve and 

propagate all aspects of the 

heritage of 503d PRCT. In 

the internet context, it 

gathers together materials 

which might otherwise 

disappear in the “mists of 

time,” and makes them 

available for readers and researchers alike through 

its website. Its logo (above) depicts a 503d trooper, 

with a canopy in the background appearing like 

Angel wings, floating down towards Corregidor. 

Donald E. Abbott (“A”, “D” & “E” Co.) (now dec’d) 

Bob Flynn (161 st Parachute Eng. Co.) (now dec’d) 

Chet Nycum (“G” Co.) 

Stephen R. Foster 

Its roll is to make that information available to the 

fresh generations such that there will never be an 

American generation which cannot readily access 

and share in the history of the 503d PRCT of WWII 

and to take pride in the 503d Lineage. 

At its reunion in Phoenix, 2009, the Regiment 

officially recognized the Heritage Battalion for that 

purpose. 

We also hope it can continue the patriotic, familial 

and social relationships which were formed with the 

parent Association. To those, we hope it can add 

the members of the 503d of other generations. 

The Battalion’s Roll is open to all who wish to 

maintain and preserve the spirit of the 503d PRCT 

beyond the passing of its members. To date, the 

Heritage Bn has been purely an internet based 

arrangement, and we hope that it can progress to 

become an active social association which can 

reflect all those who hold dear those men who 

served and sacrificed during the course of WWII. 

Bless ‘em All! 

Francis X. O’Neill (“I” Co.) (now dec’d) 

Tony Sierra (“D” Co.) 

William T. Calhoun (“F” Co.) 

Paul F. Whitman (Hons.) 


Page 56 of 62

Bill Mauldin 

Stars & Stripes 

WWII cartoonist 

By Bob Greene, CNN Contributor 

CNN Web Site: http://www.cnn.com/2010/OPINION/03/07/greene.mauldin.stamp/index.html 

The post office gets a lot of criticism. Always has, 

always will. And with the renewed push to get rid of 

Saturday mail delivery, expect complaints to intensify. 

But the United States Postal Service deserves a standing 

ovation for something that's going to happen this month: 

Bill Mauldin is getting his own postage stamp. 

Mauldin died at age 81 in the early days of 2003. The 

end of his life had been rugged. He had been scalded in 

a bathtub, which led to terrible injuries and infections; 

Alzheimer's disease was inflicting its cruelties. Unable 

to care for himself after the scalding, he became a 

resident of a California nursing home, his health and 

spirits in rapid decline. 

He was not forgotten, though. Mauldin, and his work, 

meant so much to the millions of Americans who fought 

in World War II, and to those who had waited for them 

to come home. He was a kid cartoonist for Stars and 

Stripes, the military newspaper; Mauldin's drawings of 

his muddy, exhausted, whisker-stubbled infantrymen 

Willie and Joe were the voice of truth about what it was 

like on the front lines. 

Mauldin stamp, shown above, honors grunts' hero. 

Mauldin was an enlisted man just like the soldiers he 

drew for; his gripes were their gripes, his laughs were 

their laughs, his heartaches were their heartaches. He 

was one of them. They loved him. 

He never held back. Sometimes, when his cartoons cut 

too close for comfort, his superior officers tried to tone 

him down. In one memorable incident, he enraged Gen. 

George S. Patton, and Patton informed Mauldin he 

wanted the pointed cartoons -- celebrating the fighting 

men, lampooning the high-ranking officers -- to stop. 

Now. 

The news passed from soldier to soldier. How was Sgt. 

Bill Mauldin going to stand up to Gen. Patton? It 

seemed impossible. 

Not quite. Mauldin, it turned out, had an ardent fan: 

Five-star Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower, Supreme 

Commander of the Allied Forces in Europe. Ike put out 

the word: Mauldin draws what Mauldin wants. Mauldin 

won. Patton lost. 



Page 57 of 62

If, in your line of work, you've ever considered yourself 

a young hotshot, or if you've ever known anyone who 

has felt that way about himself or herself, the story of 

Mauldin's young manhood will humble you. Here is 

what, by the time he was 23 years old, Mauldin had 

accomplished: 

He won the Pulitzer Prize. He was featured on the cover 

of Time magazine. His book "Up Front" was the No. 1 

best-seller in the United States 

All of that at 23. Yet when he returned to civilian life 

and he grew older, he never lost that boyish Mauldin 

grin, he never outgrew his excitement about doing his 

job, he never big-shotted or high-hatted the people with 

whom he worked every day. 

I was lucky enough to be one of them; Mauldin roamed 

the hallways of the Chicago Sun-Times in the late 1960s 

and early 1970s with no more officiousness or air of 

haughtiness than if he was a copyboy. That impish look 

on his face remained. 

He had achieved so much. He had won a second 

Pulitzer Prize, and he should have won a third, for what 

may be the single greatest editorial cartoon in the history 

of the craft: his deadline rendering, on the day President 

John F. Kennedy was assassinated, of the statue at the 

Lincoln Memorial slumped in grief, its head cradled in 

its hands. But he never acted as if he was better than the 

people he met. He was still Mauldin the enlisted man. 

Weeping Lincoln 

During the late summer of 2002, as Mauldin lay in that 

California nursing home, some of the old World War II 

infantry guys caught wind of it. They didn't want 

Mauldin to go out that way. They thought he should 

know that he was still their hero. 

Gordon Dillow, a columnist for the Orange County 

Register, put out the call in Southern California for 

people in the area to send their best wishes to Mauldin; I 

joined Dillow in the effort, helping to spread the appeal 

nationally so that Bill would not feel so alone. Soon 

more than 10,000 letters and cards had arrived at 

Mauldin's bedside. 

Even better than that, the old soldiers began to show up 

just to sit with Mauldin, to let him know that they were 

there for him, as he, long ago, had been there for them. 

So many volunteered to visit Bill that there was a 

waiting list. Here is how Todd DePastino, in the first 

paragraph of his wonderful biography of Mauldin, 

described it: 

"Almost every day in the summer and fall of 2002 they 

came to Park Superior nursing home in Newport Beach, 

California, to honor Army Sergeant, Technician Third 

Grade, Bill Mauldin. They came bearing relics of their 

youth: medals, insignias, photographs, and carefully 

folded newspaper clippings. Some wore old garrison 

caps. Others arrived resplendent in uniforms over a half 

century old. Almost all of them wept as they filed down 

the corridor like pilgrims fulfilling some long-neglected 

obligation." 

One of the veterans explained to me why it was so 

important: 

"You would have to be part of a combat infantry unit to 

appreciate what moments of relief Bill gave us. You had 

to be reading a soaking wet Stars and Stripes in a waterfilled 

foxhole and then see one of his cartoons." 

Mauldin is buried in Arlington National Cemetery. This 

month, the kid cartoonist makes it onto a first-class 

postage stamp. It's an honor that most generals and 

admirals never receive. 

What Mauldin would have loved most, I believe, is the 

sight of the two guys who are keeping him company on 

that stamp. 

Take a look at it. There's Willie. There's Joe. 

And there, to the side, drawing them and smiling that 

shy, quietly observant smile, is Mauldin himself. With 

his buddies, right where he belongs. Forever. 


Page 58 of 62

It's an Honor 

(sent in by Roger Dick, C/2/503d) 

When a Military Veteran leaves the 'job' and retires to 

a better life, many are jealous, some are pleased, and 

others, who may have already retired, wonder if the new 

"Retiree" knows what he is 

leaving behind, because we already know. 

We know, for example, that after a lifetime of 

camaraderie that few experience, it will remain as a 

longing for those past times. 

We know in the Military life there is a fellowship which 

lasts long after the uniforms are hung up in the back of 

the closet. 

We know even if the new "Retiree" throws the uniforms 

away, they will be on him with every step and breath 

that remains in his life. We also know that the very 

bearing of a military retiree speaks 

of what he was, and what in his heart, he still is. 

These are the burdens of a career in the Military - you 

will still look at people suspiciously, still see what others 

do not see, or choose to ignore, and you will always look 

at the rest of the Military world with a respect for what 

they do; only grown in a lifetime 

of knowing. 

Never think for one moment you are escaping from that 

past "Military" life. You are only escaping the 'job' and 

merely being allowed to leave 'active' duty. 

When you leave the Military service you will have had 

the responsibility for more dollars worth of valuable 

property, equipment and the lives and welfare of more 

people during your career than 99% of civilians will 

have during their entire life! 

When you "retire" from a Military Career, in your 

Heart you will never forget for one moment that 

you are still a member of the greatest fraternity the 

world has ever known! 

NOW, Here are a few "Civilian Friends vs. Veteran 

Friends" comparisons: 

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Get upset if you're too busy to 

talk to them for a week. 

VETERAN FRIENDS: Are glad to see you after years, 

and will happily carry on the same conversation you 

were having the last time you met. 

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Keep your stuff so long they 

forget it's yours. 

VETERAN FRIENDS: Borrow your stuff for a few 

days then give it back. 

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Will leave you behind if that's 

what 'the crowd' is doing. 

VETERAN FRIENDS: Will kick the crowd's ass that 

left you behind. 

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Are for a while. 

VETERAN FRIENDS: Are for life. 

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Have shared a few experiences... 

VETERAN FRIENDS: Have shared a lifetime of 

experiences no citizen could ever dream of... 

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Will take your drink away when 

they think you've had enough. 

VETERAN FRIENDS: Will look at you stumbling all 

over the place and say, 'You'd better drink the rest of that 

before you spill it!' 

Then carry you home safely and put you to bed... 

CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Will ignore this. 

VETERAN FRIENDS: Will share this. 

Hello Veteran Friends! 

AF VIETNAM VET BUDDY 

This note was recently sent to me from Teresa, the wife 

of my buddy Bob Samansky, after learning her husband 

had beaten the cancer which was threatening his life. 

Welcome home Bob! Ed 

The strangest thing is that 

I have been driving my car 

for months. Remember 

when I heard the song "We 

are Family?" I went to the 

reunion. Jay got Bob's car fixed and Bob 

listens to old fogey music. 

For the last 3 times I have driven his car, the 

song "For the Good Time" has come on the 

radio. That was the song of my Mom and 

Dad just before my Dad left for Viet Nam. 

He Came Back! I cried every time I heard it. 

I am still crying, but for the good! 

Teresa Samansky 


Page 59 of 62

N CO Rangers 

& Chopper 

Crews get 

together in Las 

Vegas, NV 

May 23-28 at the 

Golden Nugget 

Hotel 

Need your $80 deposit soon - 

end of March deadline !! 

( N COMPANY RANGERS FOR 

CHOPPER INFLITRATION ) 

RANGERS AND CHOPPER CREWS MISSION 

"LZ" FOR MAY 

TRAINING TOGETHER AND KEEPING 

CHOPPER READY FOR ACTION 

TO ALL RANGERS AND THOSE 

WHO GAVE US CHOPPER 

SUPPORT TO 

173rd LRRP + 74th LRP Det. + 

75th N/CO RANGERS + 74th LRS 

with 173RD Herd 

Casper Platoon 

61st Assault Helicopter Company - 

Cowboys, Lucky Stars, Star Blazer, 

other support companies like 

616th Transportation Det, 922nd 

Signal Det. (Avionics), 193th Medical 

Det. and others like USAF "Tonto" & 

"Shadow" 

If you are in contact with anyone 

that I listed or missed, 

contact them. 

Members who served along 

side with N Company (173rd 

LRRP + 74th LRP Det. + 

75th N/CO RGR + 74th LRD 

Det). are invited to a mini 

reunion in Las Vegas on May 

23 (Sunday arrival) to May 

28 (Friday checkout). 

This invitation is for all who served 

in-country from 1965 to 1971 and 

also supported the 74th LRS Det. 

after 'Nam. 

The hotel "Golden Nugget" will be 

the LZ for this event and room rates 

will be $49.00 + tax per night. 

Schedule of events will be forwarded as 

it is developed. 

Website for hotel: 

www.goldennugget.com 

Reunion attendance cost: $80. 

Note: Any funds left over after 

expenses, will be donated to the 

173rd Herd Memorial 

Bring your spouses / family 

members / military friends 

and friends. 

If you are interested in attending: 

Please send Reunion funds OF $80 to 

Ron Thomas as soon as possible !!!!!! 

Ron Thomas 

Reunion Coordinator 

184 Greenbriar Townhouses 

Las Vegas, NV 89121 

(702) 303-0011 

18bz@gmail.com 

Hope to see you there !!! 

Robt 'twin' Henriksen 

70-71 Team Golf/Delta 

Unit Director 

cell 360 393-7790 


Page 60 of 62

New to eBenefits! 

(Sent in by Karen Riester, wife of Floyd Reister, Bde/HQ) 

• To access most of these features, register for a 

Premium Account (Level 2) and Login to 

eBenefits. 

• Compensation and Pension Claims Status 

View the status online of your claims 

information for selected benefits. 

• Payment History 

Monitor information about benefits payments 

made to you by the VA. 

• VA Home Loan Benefit Eligibility and 

Entitlement 

Want to find out if you are eligible for the VA 

home loan benefit? The eBenefits website can 

assist you in finding out. Simply register for an 

account, log in, and then go to the My eBenefits 

dashboard to find out. If for some reason the site 

cannot determine your eligibility, submit an 

application. 

• Health Eligibility Check 

Your enrollment in VA health care benefits may 

be based on financial considerations. This 

calculator tool helps you assess whether you 

may qualify. 

• Move!23 Health Questionnaire 

Generate and print out practical weight 

management recommendations based on your 

eating habits, activity levels, and medical 

history. 

• Health Insurance Information 

Sponsors and eligible family members can view 

medical, dental, and pharmacy eligibility 

information, plus any non-TRICARE health 

insurance received through an employer or other 

insurance program. 

Coming Soon... 

• Messaging Center 

This feature will provide registered users with 

access to notices, news, secure messages, and 

email notifications. 

• Personal Information Update 

Sponsors will be able to make updates to their 

addresses and selected other information directly 

from the portal. 

• Specially Adapted Housing Claims Status 

This portal will let users view their Specially 

Adapted Housing grant information and claims 

status. 

SAILORS NEEDED FOR 

DEEP SEA FISHING IN 

NORTH MYRTLE BEACH 

I was checking into Deep Sea Fishing in the North 

Myrtle Beach area and I'd love to go fishing on 

Thursday, June 3, if I can get 2 or 3 more guys or gals to 

go out too. It's only $420.00 all day with everything 

included. What do you think? Would you like to do that 

with me? I was signed up for the Charleston trip, but 

would forget that if I could get a few more to go fishing 

with me. We could break the cost down so it will not be 

too hard on any of us. Any fisherpeople out there please 

contact me: fsgt173d@aol.com 

Jim “Top” Dresser 

A/HHC/2/503d, ‘65/’66 

“My goodness Top. Let him have the fish!” 

173d CHAPTER 17 

BULLETIN BOARD 

As many of you know, 173d Chapter 17 started a 

Bulletin Board on the web site over a month ago. There 

has been a lot of interest shown and a lot of info which is 

of interest to any Sky Soldier, any Chapter. 

At Chapter 17 we have also instituted a Transparency 

Policy for all info received including our own finances. 

Our Bulletin Board address is: 

http://www.skysoldier17.com/Bulletin%20Board.htm 

Thanks for letting your buddies know everyone is 

welcome to our web site and anyone is welcome to 

contribute interesting articles, writings, etc. 

Skip Kniley 

B/D/3/319th 


Page 61 of 62

Folks: 

Secretary of Defense 

Commemorative Commission 

Meeting 

I need your help. On May 11, 2010, I'll be representing 

the Herd at a Secretary of Defense Commemorative 

Commission Meeting in Washington DC. One of the 

items we will be reviewing is a time line of events 

suitable for Commemorative Events from 2011 through 

2024. With your help, I've been able to develop the 

listing below of events of significance to the 173rd 

Airborne Brigade during the time frame 1961 to 1973. 

Please review those events below and let me know if 

there are any other events you would consider 

significant. 

Since I have developed the list, there have been two 

challenges. Raymond Ramirez provided the following: 

8 November 1965 (2015) - Operation Hump, the 1st 

major battle involving a US Army ground combat unit, 

which has been challenged by United States Army 

Historical Record which noted: 

1 November 1965 - Ia Drang Battle - 

From 1-20 November the first major clash between 

American and North Vietnamese troops took place when 

elements of the 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile) battled 

the 33rd People's Army of Vietnam (PAVN) Regiment 

in the Ia Drang Valley of the Central Highlands. 

Although American casualties proved to be high, 

amounting to some 234 dead, the 1st Cavalry Division 

reckoned that enemy losses were perhaps ten times as 

great. In the eyes of General William C. Westmoreland, 

the MACV commander, the OPERATION vindicated 

the concept of airmobile Operations. 

Do any of you have anything to refute that entry 

concerning the 1st Cav? 

I do not have a date for the last day the Herd spent in 

Vietnam. The United States Army Historical Record 

shows: 

8/11/1972 - last US USA Unit departs - 

The 2nd Battalion, 196th Infantry Brigade, stationed in 

Da Nang, and during the Easter Offensive in Phu Bai, 

folded its colors and became the last ground combat unit 

to leave South Vietnam. 

Do any of you have a date that would show the 173rd 

Airborne Brigade (SEP) was in Vietnam beyond that 

date showing us to be the First In, Last Out? 

Your review and reply at your earliest opportunity would 

be appreciated, 

AIRBORNE, ALL THE WAY!! 

“RAGMAN” 

Robert A. Getz 

2/503d 

rgetz173@yahoo.com 

173RD AIRBORNE BRIGADE 50 TH \ 

ANNIVERSARY 

COMMEMORATIVE EVENTS 

26 March 1963 (2013) The 173d Airborne 

Brigade (Separate) was 

activated on the island 

of Okinawa 

3 May 1965 (2015) The Brigade was the 

first Army unit sent to 

the Republic of South 

Vietnam 

8 November 1965 (2015) Operation Hump, the 

1st major battle 

involving a US Army 

ground combat unit 

22 February 1967 (2017) The Brigade conducted 

the only combat 

parachute jump in the 

Vietnam conflict 

17-23 June 1967 (2017) The Brigade was 

presented the 

Presidential Unit 

Citation for Battle of 

Dak To 

Date Unknown The Brigade was the 

last Army unit to depart 

from the Republic of 

Viet Nam 

14 January 1972 (2022) The Brigade was deactivated at 

Fort Campbell, Kentucky. 

Annually Commemorate Medal of Honor 

Recipients 


Page 62 of 62

2/503d Vietnam - Corregidor

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