Last
Saturday was Armed Forces Day, a non-Federal holiday that generally has the
Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines and Coast Guard opening up their various posts
and bases for visits by the general public. I’d not have known about it except
for an email reminder from the Veterans Administration. This Day is, of course,
overshadowed by next week’s Memorial Day and November’s Veterans Day.
As a veteran
and lover of history in general and American history in particular, each of
these military-oriented holidays serves as a reminder of the thousands of
stories that are held in the memories of current and former military members,
and that these stories are gone forever each time one of these guys or gals
passes away.
I’ve been a
volunteer driver at our local VA Hospital for several years now, and can
personally attest not only to the volume of stories that go untold, but also of
the sheer pricelessness of many of them. My morning routine is to pick up the
vets at home and take them to the hospital or one of the VA’s outpatient
clinics. Then in the afternoon, take them back home. Some we see only once, but
many are what we call ‘frequent flyers’ who we see repeatedly for trips into
clinics for chemo, psych-treatments or a variety of chronic illnesses.
Generally, I
break the ice with new riders by asking what military branch they served in, what
time-frame, then maybe, “Did you get to go anywhere fun?” Almost without fail, my
passengers, male and female, will provide me with enough general information
from which I can start a conversation, get them talking and, typically, make a
long rush-hour drive an entertaining and enlightening experience. Some have
direct and hair-raising combat experiences, others didn’t see combat or even
leave the US. But the stories can run the gamut from terrifying, to
heartbreaking, to hysterically funny, to dull as watching paint dry.
Regardless, I take pride in my ‘skill’ at bringing stories out of people who,
quite often, would not share such information with anyone else, except maybe
those who went through the experience with them. I’ve asked, “Does your wife
know about that?” Answer: “No, she already thinks I’m crazy.” Or, “Have you told
your (adult) kids about what happened to you?” Answer: “No, they don’t care
about those old stories.”
Sometimes I
encourage them to write their stories down for family or posterity. But few are
motivated to do so. However, one old gentleman told me of witnessing the World
War II episode where American and Russian troops first linked up at the Elbe
River, having thus cut Nazi Germany in half. I asked if he’d written down the
story. “Yes.” he said. “Would you like to read it?” I did and, with his
permission, I forwarded that story and some others he’d provided to the Army
Heritage Center Foundation where they are catalogued and entered into a
database.
Here’s an
example of the stories I’ve heard:
·
A
paratrooper who got hung up outside the door of the aircraft he just jumped
from. Dangling from his static line and barely conscious, he’s unaware that the
pilot has decided to have the runway ‘foamed’ with fire retardant so, at
touchdown, the paratrooper will have a ‘lubricated’ landing. He survived being
dragged down the runway at 100 mph until the plane could brake to a stop.
·
An
Army cook whose small unit was captured by North Koreans. As that cook and his
buddies were being herded together for execution, they were rescued by American
troops who had landed days before at Inchon.
·
An
Air Force ‘PJ’ whose helicopter was shot down while landing to rescue a downed
pilot in North Vietnam. He was captured and put in a bamboo cage by the North
Vietnamese and used as bait to attract more American rescuers. The pilot they’d
originally come to rescue remained in hiding and in communication with another
PJ team. That team came in with guns blazing, destroyed the North Vietnamese
captors, and rescued both the downed pilot and the captured PJ. Unfortunately,
the PJ was wounded by the attacking American rescuers but survived to tell me
the story.
·
A
1950s Army enlistee whose entire company (180 men) was given LSD via a Kool
Aid-style beverage, then monitored for several months to see how they reacted.
He continues to suffer episodic flashbacks 50 years later.
·
A
Special Forces officer escorting two Air Force officers that were assessing the
repairability of an air strip near a remote Vietnam mountain camp. Since the
washed out strip was unusable for aircraft landings, it became a resupply drop
zone for pallets of rice, pumpkins and even cows and pigs that were parachuted
from cargo planes. While the three men were inspecting the air strip, an Air
Force C-7A ‘Caribou’ cargo plane began its approach to drop several pallets
stacked with 100 pound bags of rice. As the men watched, the plane raised its
nose and the pallets of rice slid out the rear of the plane. Unfortunately,
none of the parachutes that were rigged to deploy as the pallets exited the
plane did so, and thousands of pounds of rice now hurtled towards the ground
and the three transfixed Americans. Each man separately gauged the trajectory
of the pallets and his own direction of escape. With seconds to spare, the men
bolted out of the way. The pallets and rice bags exploded on impact only feet
away from the men and sent gravel, wood fragments and thousands of high velocity
rice grains in every direction. Many hit the men with enough force to draw
blood.
OK, that
last true story was mine. But you get the point. You can’t make this stuff up,
and if it isn’t recorded, it’s lost forever.
So, for
those readers who have relatives or friends that served in the military, next
time there’s an opportunity, please ask them to tell you a story, any story
that was particularly memorable during their service. If it’s an amazing story,
ask them if they’d write it down or if you can take notes so it can be shared
someday. They’ll probably be reluctant because that’s human nature. But tell
them it’s just another chance for them to serve their country. And if you’re a
former service member, give it some thought and record your own stories. It’s
surprisingly fulfilling and even therapeutic in some cases. You never know. One
anecdote just might lead to the next Great American Novel.
Bill Gritzbaugh
May 24, 2016
