Bartlett Laffey was an Irish immigrant who joined the U.S. Navy during the Civil War. Laffey unloaded a 12-pound howitzer from his post aboard the gunboat USS Marmora in the middle of an intense Confederate attack at Yazoo City, Mississippi. As he moved it into position, the gun carriage and rammer were chewed away by enemy rifle fire.
Despite the heated enemy assault, he and his shipmates used the gun to turn back the Confederates and win the battle. He received the Medal of Honor for turning the tide amid a fight that should have killed him. The Sumner-Class Destroyer USS Laffey was named in his honor during World War II and would more than live up to his name in a relentless kamikaze attack that would have sunk the ship if not for its fighting crew and captain.
Construction of the Laffey took little more than five months in 1943. After its training cruise, it was sent to England, arriving on May 27, 1944. The ship's first combat mission would be the invasion of Europe on D-Day, June 6, 1944. It spent the morning of D-Day raining fire on German positions before replenishing its ammo and hunting enemy torpedo boats.
D-Day was its only assignment in the European Theater. The crew didn't know it, but they would need all the combat experience they could get. By November 1944, Laffey was in the Pacific, fighting the Japanese in the Philippines. It supported landings in Leyte, Ormoc Bay, and Lindayen Gulf, to name a few. Its hardest day wouldn't come until after the Allied invasion of Okinawa in April 1945.
As part of Task Force 54 supporting the invasion, Laffey was 30 miles north of the island as a radar picket. On April 15, the Laffey shot down 13 Japanese planes. The enemy would return the next day with a force of 50 planes determined to send the Laffey to the bottom.
The attack started early, with a single Aichi D3A Val dive bomber dropping its ordnance near the ship at 0830. Minutes later, four more dive bombers came at it from both sides, and all four were shot down. A Yokosuka D4Y dive bomber tried to fly in close and strafe the deck during the fighting but was also shot away. One more dive bomber was shot down, making for six down planes in less than ten minutes.
Twelve minutes after the initial bombing runs, another D3A bomber appeared, flying right for the ship's deck. It glanced off the deck and fell into the ocean. The crew realized they were firing at a kamikaze formation. TheJapanese couldn't get through the destroyer's defenses, so they began making suicide attacks.
At 0815, a plane crashed into one of the Laffey's 40-millimeter gun mounts, killing three crew members and lighting the destroyer's magazine on fire. As crew members struggled to control the damage, another D3A managed to strafe a gun mount and drop its bomb on the ship's magazine. The resulting explosion took out the Japanese plane and started another major fire.
A burning enemy plane then crashed into the same spot as three more dive bombers hit the Laffey, taking out its rudder. Laffey was disabled, but its gun crews were still fighting. The ship's communications officer asked the captain, Cmdr. Frederick Becton if they should abandon ship, to which he replied, "No! I'll never abandon ship as long as a single gun will fire."
Laffey, overwhelmed within just 20 minutes of fighting, finally got some air support from a flight of FM-2 Wildcats from the USS Shamrock Bay and 12 Marine Corps Vought F4U Corsairs. The fighters engaged the Kamikaze formation, breaking up the determined assault but not ending it.
They had to dodge the American fighters, but D3As were still making bombing, and kamikaze ran on the vessel. Dive bombers then destroyed another of the ship's 40-millimeter gun mounts as near-miss bombs detonated next to the ship, spraying its crew with shrapnel. In all, the Laffey took four bombs, six kamikaze crashes, and a strafing fire that killed 32 and wounded 71.
The destroyer was towed to safety, where it was repaired enough to sail for Saipan and, eventually, drydock in Washington State. It was back in action by 1946. Laffey would also engage the enemy in the Korean War and serve until 1975, the last of its class to be decommissioned.
Today, it's a museum ship at Patriot's Point in Charleston, South Carolina, after being declared a national landmark in 1986.
The Vietnam War ended for the United States in January 1973, but not entirely. South Vietnam would fight in vain for its existence for another two years. As North Vietnamese troops closed in on the South Vietnamese capital of Saigon, U.S military assets scrambled to evacuate American personnel and South Vietnamese refugees.
Ultimately, the U.S. military and the CIA’s Air America evacuated 1,373 Americans, nearly 6,000 third-country nationals, and more than 138,000 South Vietnamese refugees. Called Operation Frequent Wind, the evacuation was among the last combat actions between North Vietnam and the United States.
The end of American involvement in Vietnam is often punctuated by the imagery of U.S. military personnel pushing helicopters into the sea from the decks of aircraft carriers. Out of context, these images seem to punctuate the failure of the American mission in Vietnam. Looks can be deceiving.
A closer look at the UH-1 Hueys that went overboard shows that the helicopters were South Vietnamese, not American. They were pushed overboard because the mission of evacuating South Vietnam was so successful that more room was needed to land more helicopters carrying more refugees.
When the Vietnam War ended in 1973, the war between North and South Vietnam continued, regardless of the stipulations of the Paris Peace Accords. By 1975, it was clear that South Vietnam would not survive. The National Security Council under President Gerald Ford identified 1.7 million people that would potentially need to be evacuated if Saigon fell.
Although prepared for the collapse of Saigon, no one in the American government was prepared for just how fast the North Vietnamese would advance in the spring of 1975. The standard evacuation plan for the Saigon embassy was only prepared to evacuate 119,000 embassy personnel, at-risk Vietnamese civilians, and their families.
The evacuations began in early March by fixed-wing aircraft from Tan Son Nhut airbase and other airfields by both commercial airliners and C-141 and C-5 aircraft. After South Vietnam’s president went into exile on April 21, 1975, the flow of refugees increased, civilian flights stopped altogether, and North Vietnam continued its advance.
Although it is widely believed the North ordered its forces not to interfere with the American operation so as not to provoke airstrikes, intermittent fighting was reported throughout the operation. As the month of April progressed, the situation got more and more dire. The communists were coming, and there was no stopping them.
On April 28, Tan Son Nhut was attacked by South Vietnamese pilots defecting to the North. With fixed-wing aircraft unable to move civilians to safety, Operation Frequent Wind, the evacuation of Americans and Vietnamese civilians by helicopter, began. As the communists came closer to Saigon, more refugees began clogging the streets. The U.S. would get as many out as it could.
U.S. forces assembled Task Force 76 off the coast of Vũng Tàu. Two other task forces assisted the effort. Task Force 77 provided air cover, while Task Force 73 provided logistical support. A massive helicopter evacuation was launched on April 29.
American and South Vietnamese helicopters participated in the airlift, along with the CIA’s Air America fleet, picking people up from preselected Saigon rooftops. Marine Corps CH-53 and CH-46 helicopters moved U.S. Marines as security forces to these areas across Saigon, all in an operation that was nothing short of a miracle of logistics and daring.
In two days, 71 American military helicopters flew 662 sorties between Saigon and elements of the Seventh Fleet. Counting fighter escorts, tankers, and command and control flights, the U.S. forces flew a total of 1,422 sorties over Saigon on the final day. They were able to get out more than the Saigon embassy had planned.
The aerial evacuation of South Vietnam was the largest in history. So many Huey helicopters clogged the decks of the ships from Task Force 77 many South Vietnamese helicopters had to be pushed into the ocean to make room for landing more helicopters and unloading civilians.
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Just answering all the questions makes me remember many things. I have served with some real characters and men who really knew their stuff. I learned so much and feel lucky to have been in the diving community almost my entire career. I enjoyed the camaraderie and have some real, lasting memories. My father was in the Korean War as a 2nd Lt. I know very little about what he did other than he was in communications and what I can tell from a small box of old photos he took while in country. I don't want my family to have to wonder what I did. So it is great that I have this way to tell my story.
ND1 Jonathan Ramey, US Navy Reserves
Served 1978-2010
Sailors have probably been getting tattoos since landlubbers could become sailors. Many cultures have used tattoos as markings for warriors since even before the Roman Empire’s heyday. Pope Hadrian the First ended the practice in the West when he outlawed tattoos in 787. Tattoos found a rebirth among sailors in the 16th Century, however, and have been popular ever since.
Sailors tattooed themselves for many reasons. Tattoos were used as identification, to show allegiance or esprit de corps. American sailors used tattoos to keep themselves from being forced to serve aboard British ships. Most importantly, they were (and remain) part of a culture filled with superstitions.
Popularity among civilians ebbs and flows, but with sailors and military members, the tradition always remains strong. For sailors, in particular, they’re poignant reminders of their travels and achievements as men of the sea. Here are just a few common sailors’ tattoos and the meaning behind them.
1. Swallows
Because a swallow can travel long distances and always return home, a well-traveled sailor will sport two of these birds. The first swallow means the sailor has traveled 5,000 nautical miles. A second swallow means 10,000 nautical miles. They are usually on either side of the sailor’s chest.
2. A Fully-Rigged Ship
This tattoo most often means the sailor has sailed around Cape Horn, around the southernmost tip of South America. Although it was an important trade route before the Panama Canal, travel around the horn was icy, stormy, and often dangerous. A tattoo of a three-masted ship means the sailor is skilled and brave.
3
. Shellback Turtle
Once a sailor crosses the Equator, they are welcomed into the Court of King Neptune in an elaborate ceremony (worth watching). No longer a “pollywog,” Neptune welcomes them as “shellbacks,” and they can get the tattoo to prove it. If the shellback is golden, it means they crossed the Equator and the International Date Line.
4. Dragons
A sailor with a dragon tattoo has served in China or sailed in Chinese waters. If the dragon is golden, it means they crossed the International Date Line. These days, dragon tattoos can be for any service in the Western Pacific.
5. Hula Girl
Similar to the requirement of the single dragon, a Hula Girl means the sailor has sailed to Hawaii.
6. Anchors
A sailor with an anchor tattoo is said to have sailed across the Atlantic Ocean. It is also sometimes used as a rite of passage, the first tattoo a sailor gets. Crossed anchors indicate the sailor was a Boatswain or Boatswain’s Mate.
7. Crossed cannons
Tattoos of crossed cannons simply mean the sailor served in a military naval force.
8. Braided Rope
Usually found on the left wrist, this means the sailor served on the deck.
9. Sombrero
Only found on older sailors, this usually means the sailor spent some time ashore in Tijuana or other Central and South American ports.
10. Dagger Piercing a Heart
This poor sailor had a relationship end due to unfaithfulness.
11. Chickens and Pigs
A superstitious sailor will have these on the tops of his feet. In the age of sail, chickens and pigs were kept in crates, which floated if the ship was sunk, allowing chickens and pigs to survive the shipwreck. Sailors got these tattoos to prevent drowning.
12. Crosses
Worn on the bottom of their feet, crosses were thought to repel sharks.
13. HOLD FAST
Spelled out on the fingers of each hand, a person standing opposite a sailor gripping the rigging would be able to read out the words “Hold Fast” and know their shipmate would keep his grip and was a reliable sailor – or remind the other sailor of his duty.
14. Compass or Compass Rose
Thought to bring good luck, the compass on a sailor would help ensure the sailor would always find his way home. This also comes in the form of a nautical star.
15. Red Devil
An antiquated tattoo, hearkening back to the days of steam power and boilers, a red devil meant the sailor served below decks, where it was often hot from the fire required to burn coal for the engines.
As of April 2023, TWS lists 1,974 members who have served with the 1 Bn, 9th Marine Regiment (1/9) among their Unit Assignments. Marines might say all units bearing the EGA are distinguished, and this one is no exception. The 1/9 was first activated in 1917 at Quantico and attached to the 3rd Provisional Brigade until 1919. In 1942 it was initially reactivated under the 2nd Marine Regiment of the 2nd and later the 3rd Marine Division until December 1945, having seen brutal battles at Bougainville, Northern Solomons, Guam, and Iwo Jima.
In March of 1965, the 1/9 infantry came ashore at Red Beach, South Vietnam, with the mission to defend Da Nang Air Base outside the wire, receiving its first organized hostile contact a month later. It was during Vietnam that the 1/9 added "The Walking Dead" history to its lineage, eventually having participated in actions from Da Nang to Phu Bai, the DMZ, Dong Ha, Camp Carroll, Con Thien, Khe Sanh, Cua Viet, A Shau Valley, and Cam Lo before reassignment to Camp Schwab, Okinawa with the 9th Marine Amphibious Brigade. It was part of the 7th Fleet landing force in 1966-67 and the 3rd Marine Division again at Da Nang from 1967-69, then back to Camp Schwab. The unit played a significant role in evacuations from the Southeast Asia theatre of operations in April 1975.
1/9 participated in the following chronology of named operations in Vietnam:
Blastout I
Golden Fleece
County Fair
Rice Straw
Independence
Ky Lam Campaign
Liberty
Macon
Suwannee
Deckhouse V
Prairie II
Chinook II
Operation Beacon Hill
Prairie III
Prairie IV
Operation Cimarron
Buffalo
Fremont (became Neosho)
Kentucky
Neosho
Scotland
Checkers
Ballistic Armor
Napoleon/Saline
Kentucky
Lancaster
Scotland II
Pegasus/LamSon
July Action
Dawson River
Dawson River South
Dawson River
Dewey Canyon
Apache Snow
Utah Mesa
Cameron Falls
Direct Combat Support
Heroic Action
Song Thanh
Song Thanh
Ready Op
LamSon
LamSon (II)
Frequent Wind
The Battalion was engaged in combat for forty-seven months and seven days. According to reasonably reliable sources, 2,892 Marines passed through the unit over those many months; seven hundred and forty-seven of their names are now on that black granite Wall in Washington DC, and two were missing in action at the end so far as was known.
From 1975 until deactivated in 1994, the 1/9 participated in garrison duty and operations such as "Fiery Vigil" in the Philippines and “Continue Hope” in Somalia. In 2007 it was reactivated at Camp Lejeune and assigned to the 8th Marines, 2nd Marine Division, from which it again saw service during “United Response” in Haiti and “Enduring Freedom” in Afghanistan.
"Reanimated human beings, while not immortal, will not 'die' under typical conditions that would ordinarily cause the death of a living person. They do not appear to feel or respond to pain, can survive even the most brutal injuries… they do not need food, water, or sleep to function."
It has been said that Ho Chi Minh himself was the first responsible for calling 1/9 Marines by their famous name, which they then adopted after A Shau Valley. Origin of the phrase “the walking dead” is etymologically associated with the English word "zombie," first recorded in 1819, in a history of Brazil by the poet Robert Southey, in the form of "zombi." The Oxford English Dictionary gives the origin as West African and compares it to the Congo words "nzambi" (god) and "zumbi" (fetish). Partly from that stimulus, in 2003, a number of popular culture comic books, films, television programs, and memes began being titled with the name 1/9 was known by beforehand for quite different reasons. Today the Red Beach area is reportedly used for housing by the People’s Army of Vietnam.
"…the 1st Battalion, 9th Marines (1/9), endured more hell on Earth in the jungles of Vietnam in the late 1960s than any fiction writer could ever recount. ‘The Walking Dead’ Marines of One-Nine earned their nickname after suffering the highest casualty rate of any unit during the war… Operation Buffalo, Operation Big Horn II, Khe Sanh, Dewey Canyon, and a long list of other hard-fought battles by the 1/9 resulted in two Walking Dead Marines earning the Medal of Honor, eighteen more receiving the Navy Cross, and sixty earning Silver Stars." [Frank Patercity]
Two other 1/9 Marines had earned the MOH, one at Iwo Jima and one on Guam. The total number of valor awards for all Marines ever serving in this unit has yet to be compiled. The 1/9 itself carries thirteen commendations thus far, not counting OLC and other devices. Yet, having read dozens of TWS Reflections written by Marines from E-1 to Flag Officers, by far the most frequently singled out recognition mentioned is their EGA or a GCM.
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I love the setup and user-friendly sections. The ability to reconnect with those that "ate" some of the same dirt is all important to me. I'm fully retired now and have had some interesting reflections on service, life events, and people. I've come to believe that life is like a book, with many pages, chapters, and characters. My service in the Air Force provided many chapters with many events and characters. The thing that amazes me most is that some of those early chapters have just recently become more vivid due to meeting places like Together We Served. I've reconnected with four old friends within the last year because of TWS. When you take the time and have a place to focus, the colors and faces are repainted anew!
Maj James Webber, US Air Force (Ret)
Served 1972-1992
Each day, caregivers look after and take care of our nation's Veterans who need support. The Caregiver Support Program (CSP) recognizes their efforts and is here to support them. The mission of CSP is to promote the health and well-being of caregivers who care for those who served, focusing on improving the quality of life for caregivers.
Every VA facility has a CSP team that provides support and referrals to services for caregivers. They provide valuable information about resources to help caregivers stay informed and supported. Find a local CSP team using the locator tool.
Types of support chart
Both programs serve to identify the unique needs of each caregiver
What are the two programs?
First is the Program of General Caregiver Support Services (PGCSS).
PGCSS is the core of CSP. This clinical program empowers caregivers by offering resources that sharpen their caregiving skills and services that support their personal growth, health, and well-being.
Caregivers of Veterans enrolled in VA health care have access to PGCSS resources and services, for example, one-on-one coaching, group support, online workshops, self-care courses, and respite care.
Caregivers enrolled in PGCSS can also participate in special CSP events held at their local VA facility and dial into national activities.
Learn more about PGCSS resources and how to enroll.
Second is the Program of Comprehensive Assistance for Family Caregivers (PCAFC).
PCAFC offers enhanced clinical support to Family Caregivers of eligible Veterans who have a serious injury (including a serious illness) and require in-person personal care services, among other requirements. PCAFC provides training and support to Family Caregivers with the goal of increasing their confidence and ability to care for themselves and the Veteran.
Family Caregivers approved for PCAFC have access to all services and supports offered through PGCSS and may also have access to specific mental health resources, enhanced respite benefits, beneficiary travel, and a monthly stipend.
Learn more about applying for PCAFC.
What's the difference?
CSP offers a wide array of resources and services to caregivers across the care continuum in both PCAFC and PGCSS. Review our program comparison guide.
While the majority of CSP services are offered under both programs, there are a few additional benefits available within PCAFC. Family Caregivers eligible for PCAFC may also have access to specific mental health resources, enhanced respite benefits, beneficiary travel, and a monthly stipend.
As a reminder, all Veteran caregivers are encouraged to enroll in PGCSS to receive education and support, such as skills training, mobile support, one-on-one coaching, group support, and respite.
The CSP team, available at every medical center, can connect caregivers with other caregivers with similar experiences to help reduce feelings of isolation and foster connectedness. CSP Teams can also educate caregivers about the resources available at VA and in the community.
Both programs serve to identify the unique needs of each caregiver by linking them to the services that best meet their individual needs and promote their health and well-being.
What caregivers are saying about CSP
"CSP broadened my learning scope, knowledge, and understanding of expectations. I have learned better caregiving skills that help me protect my son and keep him safe and healthy. With CSP's resources, I consider myself a professional caregiver and advocate. I can advise and mentor others. I know how to handle my stress and emotions and when and who to reach out to for help." – CSP caregiver.
"Some of the resources I am eternally grateful for are the Caregiver Support Program, the Annie Program, REACH VA, and Building Better Caregivers. We have been provided with in-person and online support, books, and other audio resources. Within these programs, I was able to find the strength to heal myself to be a better caregiver for my husband and to be able to help him with learning better-coping mechanisms for his own medical conditions." – CSP caregiver.
"CSP has been so helpful, and they have linked me to excellent resources and support. Additionally, caregivers helping each other and finding comfort in others through the Peer Mentor Program has been powerful for me." – CSP caregiver.
Want to stay in touch with CSP? Subscribe to the listserv here to keep up to date with CSP.
If there's a best insider's look at the beginning of the end of the Civil War – the Confederate surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia in 1865 – look no further than that of General Ulysses S. Grant. The former commander of the Union Army penned his memoirs before his death in 1885, and they include a sharp recollection of the days that ended the war, along with what took place at Appomattox Court House.
When Grant left his tent on April 9th, 1865, he was unsure of where the day would take him or the Union Army. He had been chasing Lee and his army across Virginia, forcing it to give up the Confederate capital at Richmond. Grant believed Lee's army was now in a place where it could not escape and would be forced to fight their way out or surrender.
The past few days saw the Union Army advancing on Lee, capturing Confederate supply wagons and taking enemy prisoners. The consensus among captured enemy officers was that the southern cause was lost and that more fighting would be nothing short of murder. Grant was of a similar mind and wrote to General Lee on April 7th, asking if Lee would consider terms of surrender.
Grant didn't truly believe Lee would be ready to surrender so soon. Leaving his tent on April 9th, he was ill and was thus wearing the uniform of a private and did not carry a sword. The only thing he wore to indicate that he was the highest-ranking officer in the Union Army was his lieutenant general's shoulder straps.
Lee and Grant had been in communication for two days about conducting a meeting about the surrender of Lee's army. Grant's surrender demand was that the officers and men of the Army of Northern Virginia should be disqualified from continuing their roles in the war until they could be properly exchanged.
Grant states in his memoirs that Lee's army was slowly falling apart. The men who had enlisted in the army were now near their homes, and with their enlistments up and the army "crumbling," they had begun returning to those homes. Still, on the morning of April 9th, Confederate forces attacked the Union forces to attempt one last breakout, believing there was only light Union cavalry in their way.
Instead of Philip Sheridan's cavalry, the Confederates were facing an entire Corps and the Army of the James at Appomattox Court House. The Union infantry pushed forward rapidly and forced the Confederates back. Grant woke up with a migraine headache, not expecting to negotiate Lee's surrender, which explained his shabby appearance. Given the assault of the morning, Sheridan and Gen. George G. Meade thought the white flag Lee sent to the Union was a ruse. But when Grant received Lee's request for surrender, the Union commander's headache disappeared.
Lee arrived at the home of Wilmer McLean for the meeting first. Grant soon followed with his staff. Lee was dressed resplendently, with a full uniform and a new sword that Grant supposed was ceremonial and presented to him by the State of Virginia. Grant knew his own appearance was shabby in contrast.
The two men greeted each other with a handshake and sat down to begin negotiations. Grant called Lee's demeanor "impassable" and had no idea what his feelings on the situation were. They began by talking about the "Old Army" and the Mexican War, their time at West Point, and colleagues they knew. Grant could not hide his emotions, however.
"My own feelings, which had been quite jubilant on the receipt of his letter, were sad and depressed. I felt like anything rather than rejoicing at the downfall of a foe who had fought so long and valiantly and had suffered so much for a cause, though that cause was, I believe, one of the worst for which a people ever fought and one for which there was the least excuse. I do not question, however, the sincerity of the great mass of those who were opposed to us… Our conversation grew so pleasant that I almost forgot the object of our meeting."
When Lee reminded Grant why they were meeting, Grant reiterated his terms. The Army of Northern Virginia should lay down their arms and go home. Officers would be allowed to keep their personal possessions, including horses and sidearms. Grant even allowed farmers who owned animals to keep them so they could work their fields upon returning home. After these simple terms were put to paper, the men went to leave.
Grant remarked that Lee never offered his sword, and the story about Grant returning the sword to Lee was "pure fiction." What did happen is that Lee told Grant his men were lacking food and asked for rations to be distributed, which Grant agreed to do. The two men then left "as cordially as we met."
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We Are The Mighty (WATM) celebrates service with stories that inspire. WATM is made in Hollywood by veterans. It's military life presented like never before. Check it out at We Are the Mighty.
It's impossible to describe John Ripley's most famous action in a single headline. This Marine legend dangled from the Dong Ha Bridge for some three hours as North Vietnamese soldiers took potshots at him. He took his time attaching 500 pounds of explosives to the bridge, single-handedly halting an advance of 20,000 Communists during the Easter Offensive.
Then-Captain John Ripley was an American advisor in the northern regions of South Vietnam in 1972. He was at Camp Carroll, a firebase between Khe Sanh and Dong Ha, advising South Vietnamese troops. It was his second tour in Vietnam, and things were mostly quiet…until they weren't.
The NVA had been testing the U.S. defenses at firebases in his area, but they would quickly disengage. One day in March 1972, they didn't stop. Enemy artillery started raining shells on the firebases in the area. The NVA was throwing everything they had at South Vietnam; 14 divisions and 26 independent regiments. The Easter Offensive had just begun.
As Camp Carroll was overrun and its ARVN garrison surrendered, Ripley and another American escaped on a CH-47 Chinook. But the helicopter took on too many fleeing ARVN troops and was forced to crash land on Highway 1 near Dong Ha.
At Dong Ha, close to the DMZ that separated North and South Vietnam, he found a number of South Vietnamese Marines who had no intention of surrendering. He also found some 200 North Vietnamese tanks and self-propelled artillery backed up for six miles – and ready to cross the Cam Lo River.
"We didn't have the wherewithal to stop that many tanks. We had little hand-held weapons. And we certainly didn't have anything on the scale that was needed to deal with the threat. Originally, 20 tanks had been reported." Ripley chuckled softly at the memory years later.
With the monsoon season limiting American air support and the North Vietnamese controlling one-half of the bridge, Ripley decided he had to blow up the bridge. By himself, if necessary.
Another American, Maj. James Smock drove him to the bridge in a tank, and Ripley headed below, where he found five ARVN engineers trying to rig the bridge to blow. They had 500 pounds of TNT. The problem was the way the explosives were laid out; the bridge wouldn't be completely destroyed, and the NVA would still be able to cross. They'd have to be rearranged.
By hand. With tanks and guns shooting at those hands.
Meanwhile, 90-pound South Vietnamese Marine Sergeant Huynh Van Luom dashed onto the bridge in what Ripley called "the bravest single act of heroism I've ever heard of, witnessed, or experienced."
Huynh fired two M72 light anti-tank assault weapon rounds at the lead NVA tank. The first shot missed, but the second hit the tank turret, stopping it cold. The entire column was stopped. It couldn't move and couldn't turn around.
The ARVN engineers below the bridge took off as Ripley climbed over the razor wire barrier designed to keep people from doing what he was about to do. He climbed hand over hand as Smock pushed the explosives out to him. Ripley grabbed the box and moved it to a better location.
"I would hand-walk out, then swing up to get my heels into the "I" beam," Ripley said, recalling that he was still wearing all his web gear and slung rifle. "Then I'd swing down on one T beam and then leap over and grab another T beam."
For nearly three hours, Ripley dangled under the Dong Ha Bridge, rigging it to blow and frustrating the enemy trying to kill him. To make matters worse, Ripley had no blasting caps, so he had to use timed fuses — fuses with an unknown time, set with his mouth.
Smock moved to rig the railway bridge to blow at the same time and moved back to friendly lines. The 500-foot bridge blew up just minutes later. The armored column became sitting ducks for the Navy's ships offshore and South Vietnamese A-1 Skyraiders.
His effort on the bridge that day may have been the decisive factor that kept the North from taking Saigon until three years later.
Colonel John Ripley died in 2008 at the age of 69, but not before making a trip back to Dong Ha with some of his buddies from L/3/3 Marines in 1997.
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I am able to keep up with the people I served with and see how they are doing. Additionally, and more importantly, I am able to remember those who aren't with us in tribute profiles and by viewing others' tributes, helping to keep their stories and sacrifices alive! Lastly, it reminds me of my past and the military history I come from in my family, lest we forget!
SSG Kevin Lipinski, US Army (Ret)
Served 2002-2018
I have no recollection of anything specific we talked about that day. I'm sure the weather was involved because we always spoke of the weather in Georgia. He gave me words of advice; I'm sure because that's what he always did when he was going somewhere longer than overnight. His words were soft, sweet, and gentle.
More than once in the last few days, I'd seen him looking at the triangular walnut case on the mantle. There was a picture beside the flag; a man he'd never met; a picture of his father, her husband, in his Army dress uniform, strong, proud. A smaller picture, stuck in the corner of the frame, corners curling, fading. Her husband was seated on a row of sandbags at some nameless firebase in Viet Nam.
The conversation quietly came to a comfortable close, neither of us wanting to talk of the actual matter.
Her son pushed his breakfast plate aside. Looking at it one last time, eyes smiling but sad, knowing, "I always liked those plates, Ma, with the barn and the cows and the bright yellow & green edges.
Reaching across, I found his hand and squeezed it. His hands were callused, coarse and rough, and scratchy from too many summers in the fields. I tried to smile, but my eyes leaked a little, tracing my feelings down my cheeks. I turned away and quickly pulled the hanky from my sleeve as I tried to wipe away the sadness.
The sun was fully up now. He stood, pushing back his chair. Looking at me, smiling, he said, "I reckon I'd better be goin'; that bus'll be along any minute. And you know ole' Bob; he won't wait for no one." He reached down, picked up his yellow and green cup, and finished his coffee. "I think I'm gonna' miss this most, Ma. You always make the best coffee."
As I stood, I reached into the pocket of my apron and said, "It's the chicory, Donny; takes the bite off. Here; I packed a little bag of it for you!" and gave him a little hand-sewn bag stuffed with ground chicory.
As he took the bag, his hands held mine for just a moment longer. Then he looked down at his highly polished shoes and whispered, "Thanks, Ma, thanks for everything. I love you."
I stepped closer and hugged him tightly, "I love you too, Donny. Always remember that." He reached around me, engulfing me in those strong arms of his, and hugged me back, this time just a little longer than usual. Abruptly, he stepped back and reached for his dress green jacket and put it on. He put on the soft dress cap the Army gave him, picked up his duffle bag, and slung it over his shoulder.
As he reached the doorway, he rested his hand on the doorjamb. He looked at the old, weathered wood with all the pencil marks on it, showing his progress in growing up to get to this day. He turned and looked around again, gathering it all in like he was photographing the scene in his mind. He smiled a little once again, gave a half wave, and walked out the door, letting the screen door slam once more.
That's when I knew.
"Against All Odds" isn't just part of Lt. Col. (ret.) Jason G. Pike's memoir of his time in service is the theme of his life. He was diagnosed with a learning disability at a young age and with what should have been a crippling bone disease just a few years later. It didn't stop him from pursuing academic achievements and more than three decades of service to his country.
At age 17, Pike enlisted in the U.S. Army as a private. It was 1982, and he still had a year of high school left. The National Guard never asked about the osteomyelitis that dissolved the bone in his knee, and Pike never told them. He went to basic training and served in the Guard while working through college at Clemson University's ROTC program.
As an active duty officer, he served with the 10th Special Forces Group, served in medical roles at Aberdeen Proving Ground and the Defense Logistics Agency, as well as serving three tours in Korea. He also earned two master's degrees and deployed twice to Afghanistan. He spent much of his fascinating Army career as an entomologist, preventing insect-borne disease among soldiers.
His memoir is an honest account of the ups and downs of 31 years in uniform: the deployments, an unorthodox career, the challenges, and more. Most interestingly, Lt. Col. Pike talks about his arrest, Army investigations, and the hurdles of living the Army life while facing intellectual and physical disabilities. His story is a testament to the dogged tenacity Americans have come to expect from military members.
Through it all, Pike completed his service, deployment, and tours in nine countries and retired at age 48 with more than 30 service awards and badges.
"In 'A Soldier Against All Odds,' I show that It is possible, through determination, careful application, and bold strategy, to overcome or compensate for personal humiliation brought about primarily by my own mistakes, being haunted by investigations, academic difficulty, arrests, many ass-chewings, and physical frailty. I did pay the price for being me. This is how I did it, but most importantly, how I survived it," Pike writes.
"A Soldier Against All Odds" by Lt. Col. Jason G. Pike is available in paperback, hardcover, Kindle, and audiobook on Amazon, starting at just $9.99.