"Memorial Day" .....some thoughts

Try as I may, I can only remember one of my friends dying in Vietnam. I looked thru the list of casualties from Ohio and Donnie Sanders, Colonel White High School '65, is the only name I recognize from Dayton. I'm surprised. We were 18 and 19 years old in 1966 and we were the main source for the buildup that would last for 7 more years in Vietnam.

Donnie's name appears on the Vietnam Memorial

My brothers and I all served during this time. One brother, Dave, a little nobler than I, served a couple of tours in Southeast Asia. Never one to brag about his accomplishments, he was the recipient of the Silver Star, the third highest combat military decoration in the United States,  for his participation in the Son Tay Raid , an attempt to free American POWs. My other brother, Rick, and I served in the U. S. Army and U. S. Air Force, respectively.


Although most of the holidays anymore seem just like another day to me since my work schedule is almost 365 days a year, Memorial Day is one day that I do stop and take the time to think about what might have been and appreciate the men and women who gave their lives for this country.


Not one to take advice very often from my brothers, I do remember one day in particular that listening to my older sibling probably saved my life. It was October, 1970. I was in my senior year at the University of Oklahoma and wasn't going to be able to graduate because of a lack of credit hours. Back then, you were allowed 4 years in deferment from the draft and if you weren't in school, the only other places you would find yourself would be in Canada or the military. The draft was at its highest peak and I had lotto number 44 which meant I was out of time.
I decided to enlist and try to have control of my destiny rather than being drafted into the Army infantry.


Since I had been in R.O.T.C. for two years, another draft deferment ploy that many of us used, the recruiter had suggested I apply for the Army Warrant Officer's school. This was the training ground for helicopter pilots in Vietnam. I was gung-ho and couldn't wait. The day I was supposed to report to the induction center, everyone's paperwork was bogged down and after a day of testing and physicals we were told to return the next day to be sworn in. That night I called Dave, who was an Air Force officer at that time, and told him of my plans.


He said, "I 've never tried to tell you what to do, but the chances for your survival as a helicopter pilot are non-existent", He suggested I try the Air Force and get into a non-combatant role.
The next day I told the Army recruiter that I was switching to the Air Force, which really had him quite upset. I retested and enlisted in the Air Force and found myself 6 weeks later going to Langley AFB on a direct duty assignment, in Virginia, and eventually becoming editor of the base newspaper. Ironically, 2 years later, as I was putting the next edition of the newspaper together I came across the story of Dave being awarded the Silver Star.
Suffice to say, we all survived the Vietnam War and Dave remained in the Air Force and retired and Rick and I got out after our enlistment was up.


The ones that didn't survive are the ones we honor on Memorial Day.
Although I can only recall one of my friends not returning, I'm sure Dave has a whole list of people he knew that didn't come back.
So as we find our men and women thrust into a War in the Middle East 35 years later with deaths being added everyday, take a minute and pray for the ones that are there and honor the ones that didn't return. He or she might have been one of you.