'Our mission is to
capture the service story
of every veteran'

Join Now Watch Video

Read other Dispatches Issues here:


A Day of Heroes

It was an absolutely beautiful late summer morning across the northeast United States. A day of sunny, clear skies and comfortable temperatures with people routinely going about their daily business. In airports all along the east coast, passengers and crews were boarding aircraft for destinations all over the world. Among them were four heading to California airports, three on their way to Los Angeles International Airport, and a fourth destined for San Francisco International Airport. It was Tuesday, September 11, 2001, two weeks before the end of summer and the beginning of fall.

For 213 passengers and 34 crew members aboard the four aircraft, everything seemed routine, with none suspecting what was about to happen. Nor were they aware that the other 19 passengers scattered among the four aircraft were radicalized Islamic terrorists from Saudi Arabia and several other Arab nations determined on punishing America for its support of Israel and its continued military presence in the Middle East.

American Airlines Flight 11 departed Boston's Logan Airport at 7:59 A.M. en route to Los Angeles with a crew of eleven and 81 passengers, including five terrorists. Around thirty minutes into the flight, the five hijackers breached the cockpit, taking control of the plane and by 8:45 A.M., crashed it into the north tower of the World Trade Center in New York City. The 20,000 gallons of jet fuel reacted like a bomb, exploding on impact, leaving a gaping, burning hole near the 80th floor of the 110-story skyscraper, instantly killing hundreds of people and trapping hundreds more in higher floors. 

As the evacuation of the tower got underway, local television crews raced to the scene and began broadcasting live images of what they thought was an accident of unknown origin. At ground level and in other Lower Manhattan buildings, people stopped what they had been doing and watched in horror, speculating among themselves on what had happened. Eighteen minutes later, United Airlines Flight 175, also out of Boston, with a crew of nine and 56 passengers, including five hijackers, appeared out of the sky, turned sharply and directly toward the World Trade Center and tore into the south tower near the 60th floor, exploding on impact. It was 9:03 A.M. This was the only impact seen live on television around the world as it happened. 

Within two hours, the Twin Towers collapsed into a massive heap of twisted steel, broken glass, fiberglass, asbestos, and pulverized cement, creating thick dust over the entire area, including ten surrounding buildings. That cancer-causing dust would later prove to be fatal to many of those who worked, lived, or studied in Lower Manhattan at the time of the attack from "exposure to toxins at "Ground Zero." Many first responders are among them. 

A third aircraft, American Airlines Flight 77, departed Washington Dulles International Airport at 8:20 A.M. en route to Los Angeles with a crew of six and 58 passengers, including five hijackers. Less than 35 minutes into the flight, the terrorists stormed the cockpit. Panicked passengers secretly made phone calls to loved ones informing them of their situation. At 9:37 A.M., the hijackers crashed the aircraft into the western side of the Pentagon. News sources began reporting on the incident within minutes. The impact severely damaged an area of the Pentagon, and by 10:10 A.M.., a portion of the Pentagon collapsed, smothered in the fire. Firefighters spent days trying to fully extinguish the blaze. Because the Pentagon was headquarters for the United States Department of Defense, it symbolized U.S. military power. A total of 125 military personnel and civilians were killed as well as the 64 people on the plane.

The fourth California-bound plane, United Flight 93, with 37 passengers, including four terrorists, and a crew of seven, was seized about 45 minutes after leaving New Jersey's Newark International Airport. Because the plane had been delayed in taking off, passengers on board learned of events in New York and Washington via cell phone. Knowing they too were on a doomed plane, a group of brave passengers and flight attendants decided to fight back against their hijackers, informing several people on the ground of their plans. Many passengers called their loved ones saying their final goodbyes if the attempt to wrestle back the control of the plane was not successful. During the struggle, the plane flipped over and sped toward the ground at upwards of 500 miles per hour, crashing in a rural field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania, at 10:03 A.M. All 45 people aboard were killed. Its intended target is not known, but theories include the White House, the U.S. Capitol, or one of several nuclear power plants along the eastern seaboard.

On a day of unthinkable horror and needless deaths, there was also countless acts of heroism shown by thousands of firefighters, police, paramedics, co-workers and fellow citizen doing everything possible to save lives and give aid and comfort to the survivors. Among them was Rick Rescorla, a man some say predicted the attack. 

Cyril Richard "Rick" Rescorla was born in Cornwall, on the southwest tip of England, in 1939. From an early age, it was obvious Rick was a natural athlete who liked physical challenges. He was an avid boxer, rugby star and set a high school record in the shot put. With little interest in book-learning, his need for jeopardy and adventure got the best of him, and in 1957, at the age of 16, he quit school and enlisted in the British Army. 

He trained as a paratrooper with The Parachute Regiment and served in military intelligence in Cyprus. At the time, the EOKA-Greek Cypriot nationalist guerrilla organization was actively fighting an insurgency in hopes of ending British rule in Cyprus. Active from 1957 to 1960, the group sabotaged British military installations, ambushed military convoys, and patrols, and assassinating British soldiers and local informers. 

With the end of that insurgency, he sought out a more adventurous military life, so he then served as a paramilitary police inspector in the Northern Rhodesia Police (now the Zambia Police Service) from 1960 to 1963. Backing South African forces against Communists' anti-British forces often lead to brutal, deadly confrontations - an experience that made him a fierce anti-Communist. It was in Rhodesia that he met and created a lifetime friendship with American soldier Daniel J. Hill, who inspired Rescorla to later join the U.S. Army and fight in Vietnam where he could again battle the communists.

On returning to London and civilian life, he joined the Metropolitan Police Service. His tenure at the Met was short-lived, and he soon resigned and moved to the United States. Shortly after arriving, he enlisted in the U.S. Army in 1963. After basic training, he attended Officer Candidate School and airborne training at Fort Benning. Upon graduating, Rescorla was assigned as a platoon leader to Bravo Company, 2nd Battalion, 7th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile), and experienced one of the bloodiest battles of the Vietnam War - the Battle of Ia Drang.

The battle took place from November 14 to November 18, 1965, in the Ia Drang Valley of the Central Highlands. It was the first major combat between U.S. and North Vietnamese forces. On one side were 1,000 troopers of the U.S. Army 1st Cavalry Division's 1st and 2nd Battalions, 7th Cavalry Regiment, 3rd Brigade, and the 2nd Battalion, 5th Cavalry Regiment, 2nd Brigade. Facing them was the 2,000 man B3 Field Front Command made up of five regiments from the People's Army of Vietnam's 304th Division and Viet Cong guerrillas from the H15 NFL Battalion.

For several days there was fierce, deadly fighting at LZ X-Ray in which the men of the 1st Cavalry suffered many dead and wounded. While there were times it seemed possible the enemy would overrun the U.S. forces, it did not happen. It was the strong leadership, well-rehearsed tactics, and heroic efforts on the part of the troopers that prevented that from happening. Equally - if not more importantly - was the heavy artillery and air support that kept the enemy off balance. B-52 bombing around the area was another major deterrent. 

As the battle subsided, portions of the 2nd Battalion, 7th Cavalry, were ordered to move cross-country to LZ Albany, where it was to be picked up by helicopter and moved to a new location. The U.S. unit was moving through the jungle in a long column when the North Vietnamese sprang a massive ambush along the length of the column from all sides. The cavalrymen returned fire, but the Communists were fighting from prepared fighting positions, and many of the American leaders had fallen in the initial stages of the ambush. 

Bravo Company, 2nd Battalion, 7th Cavalry, commanded by Capt. Myron Diduryk, was still at LZ X-Ray when they received orders to relieve the Battalion. Rescorla, the sole remaining platoon leader in Bravo Company, led the reinforcements into the Albany perimeter, which was expanded to provide better security. As the wounded at Albany were evacuated that evening, the helicopters received intense ground fire as they landed and took off. The Americans at Albany then settled down for the night waiting for the North Vietnamese to attack, but illumination flares provided by Air Force aircraft made the enemy cautious. By morning, they had withdrawn. 

The next day, Friday, November 18, as dawn rose over the battlefield, the Americans began to police up their dead. This task took the better part of the day and the next, as American and North Vietnamese dead were scattered all over the field of battle. Rescorla described the scene as, "a long, bloody traffic accident in the jungle." policing the battlefield, Rescorla recovered a large, battered, old French army bugle from a dying NVA soldier.

Both sides suffered heavy casualties; U.S. losses were 237 killed, 258 wounded, and four missing. It was estimated that the enemy lost about 1,500 killed. Lt. Col. Harold Moore, commander of 1/7, along with Journalist Joseph Galloway, co-authored the book "We Were Soldiers Once - and Young." Moore called Rescorla "the best platoon leader I ever saw." The photo of the solider on the front cover of the book is Rick Rescorla. 

After service in Vietnam, Rescorla returned to the U.S., left the Army. The adventurous boy who did not like school then did a complete 360 turnaround and spend years in college. Using his military benefits, he studied creative writing at the University of Oklahoma, eventually earning a Bachelor of Arts degree, a Master of Arts degree in English, and a law degree from the Oklahoma City University School of Law. He then packed up his bags, moved to South Carolina, and began teaching criminal justice at the University of South Carolina for three years and published a textbook on the subject.

Rescorla left teaching for higher-paying jobs in corporate security, joining Dean Witter Reynolds at their offices at the World Trade Center in New York City. 

Following the 1988 bombing of Pan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland, he became increasingly concerned about the potential for a terrorist attack against the World Trade Center. In 1990, he contacts his counterterrorism-trained friend from Rhodesia, Daniel Hill, requesting him to visit the World Trade Center to provide an assessment of the building's vulnerabilities. 

After Hill arrived at the World Trade Center, Rescorla asked him how he would attack the building if he were a terrorist. Hill requested to see the basement, and after the two walked down to the basement parking garage without being stopped by any visible security, Hill pointed to an easily accessible load-bearing column, and said, "This is a soft touch. I'd drive a truck full of explosives in here, walk out, and light it off." Rescorla reported these findings to the New York Police Department and the New York Port and New Jersey Authority, who owns the site, but received no official response.

Rescorla and Hill decided on writing a detailed report to the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey, insisting on the need for more security in the parking garage. Their recommendations, which would have been expensive to implement, were ignored again. 

Following the 1993 World Trade Center Bombing, which killed six people and injured more than 1,000, Rescorla invited Hill back to New York, where he hired him as a security consultant in order to analyze the building's security. Although no arrests had yet been made in the case, Rescorla suspected that the bomb had been planted by Muslims, probably Palestinians. 

Hill let his beard grow and masqueraded as an anti-American Muslim, speaking fluent Arabic and frequented several mosques in New Jersey where he befriended other visitors to the mosques. He concluded that the attack was likely planned by a radical imam at a mosque in New York or New Jersey. Followers of Sheikh Omar Abdel Rahman, a radical Muslim cleric, based in Brooklyn, were subsequently convicted of the bombing.

The conclusions drawn by both Rescorla and Hill following their meticulous findings on the 1993 bombing, convinced them the World Trade Center was still a target for terrorists and predicted that the next terrorist attack could involve a plane crashing into one of the towers. So strong was his feelings, Rescorla recommended to his Morgan Stanley superiors the company leave their Manhattan office space and set up in New Jersey. However, this recommendation was not followed as the company's lease at the World Trade Center did not terminate until 2006. At Rescorla's insistence, all employees, including senior executives, then practiced emergency evacuations every three months.

After Dean Witter merged with Morgan Stanley in 1997, the company eventually occupied twenty-two floors in the South Tower, and several floors in a building nearby. Rescorla's office was on the forty-fourth floor of the South Tower. Feeling that port authorities failed to act upon his 1990 warnings, he concluded that employees of Morgan Stanley, which was the largest tenant in the World Trade Center, could not rely on first responders in an emergency, and needed to empower themselves through surprise fire drills. He trained employees to meet in the hallway between stairwells and go down the stairs, two by two, to the 44th floor. As was to be expected, Rescorla's strict approach to these drills put him into conflict with some high-powered executives who resented the interruption to their daily activities. Still, he nonetheless insisted that these rehearsals were necessary to train the employees in the event of an actual emergency. He timed employees with a stopwatch when they moved too slowly and lectured them on fire emergency basics.

At 8:46 A.M. on the morning of September 11, 2001, Rescorla heard the explosion when American Airlines Flight 11 struck the World Trade Center's North Tower. He ran to his office window on the 44th floor of the South Tower and saw the North Tower in flames; he knew then his prediction had come true. When the Port Authority announcement came over the P.A. system urging people to stay at their desks, Rescorla ignored the announcement, grabbed his bullhorn, walkie-talkie and cell phone, and began systematically ordering Morgan Stanley employees to evacuate, including the 1,000 employees in WTC 5. He directed people down a stairwell from the 44th floor, continuing to calm employees after the building lurched violently following the crash of United Airlines Flight 175 38 floors above him at 9:03 A.M. Even a group of 250 people visiting the offices for a stockbroker training class knew what to do because they had been shown the nearest stairway.

Rescorla had boosted morale among his men in Vietnam by singing Cornish songs from his youth, and now he did the same in the stairwell, singing "Men of Cornwall stop your dreaming, Can't you see their spear points gleaming? See their warriors' pennants streaming, to this battlefield. Men of Cornwall stand ye steady, It cannot be ever said ye for the battle were not ready. Stand and never yield!"

Between songs, Rescorla called his wife, telling her, "Stop crying. I have to get these people out safely. If something should happen to me, I want you to know I've never been happier. You made my life." 

After successfully evacuating most of Morgan Stanley's 2,687 employees, he went back into the building. When one of his colleagues told him he too had to evacuate the World Trade Center, Rescorla replied, "As soon as I make sure everyone else is out." He was last seen on the 10th floor, heading upward, shortly before the South Tower collapsed at 9:59 A.M. His remains were never found. He was declared dead three weeks after the attacks.

Rescorla was survived by his wife, Susan, his two children and his three stepdaughters by Susan. Rescorla had requested that he be cremated and have his ashes strewn in his birthplace, Haylee, Cornwall, England. Having revered the eagle as a symbol of both American freedom and Native American mysticism, he had also told Susan that when he died, he wanted her to contribute money to an endowment for eagles. Photo of Susan at Rescorla's memorial in Haylee, Cornwall England

Rescorla's activities during the September 11 attacks were quickly brought to national attention by the news media, including a detailed account by Michael Greenwald in the October 28, 2001 issue of The Washington Post of Rescorla's life and "epic death, one of those inspirational hero-tales that have sprouted like wildflowers from the Twin Towers rubble." A memorial statue of Rescorla at Ft. Benning, Georgia, the Home of the Infantry was unveiled in 2006.

September 11, 2001. A day that we will never forget. A day that will be forever etched in our hearts and minds as a day that changed our country forever. A day that changed the way we view the world and how we go about our daily activities.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gaU5rBjcDus

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


The Draft

In the city-states of ancient Greece to modern nation-states, the rights for citizenship were often linked to an obligation of some military service for all males. In the United States, military mandated conscription did not come into being until it was used by both the Union and Confederacy during the Civil War. To be sure, conscription was never popular, and opposition to it was common, even during our two world wars.

In the 1960s, the draft became the focal point for opposition to the Vietnam War. After much debate, a Presidential Commission recommended ending the draft, and in 1973 the All-Volunteer Army became a reality. And yet, absent conscription, today's military has been robbed of the sense of shared sacrifice and national purpose for generations. 

One important element missing in the all-volunteer military is the opportunity for civilian conscripts and military careerists to exchange ideas in approaching solutions in solving problems. Put another way; civilian thinking merged with military thinking offers free-flowing exchanges on how to do things rather than inflexible approaches such as "high diddle-diddle, right up the middle."

America's all-volunteer military accounts for less than 0.5% of the total population and is so different from the civilian population that it has become a separate warrior class. Without this cross-fertilization, today's all-volunteer military carry a heavier burden, because the public has been disconnected from the universal responsibility and personal commitment required to fight and win wars.

When reading the following two sub-articles, consider these questions: Does having a draft make war more or less likely? Should citizenship be linked to compulsory military service? Or is the individual's right to choose paramount?

All-Volunteer Military Distinct From the Public It Protects
By Thomas E. Ricks

Since the end of the military draft in 1973, every person joining the U.S. armed forces has done so because he or she asked to be there. Over the past decade, this all-volunteer force has been put to the test and has succeeded, fighting two sustained foreign wars with troops standing up to multiple combat deployments and extreme stress.

This is precisely the reason it is time to get rid of the all-volunteer force. It has been too successful. Our relatively small and highly adept military has made it all too easy for our nation to go to war  -  and to ignore the consequences.

The drawbacks of the all-volunteer force are not military, but political and ethical. Less the one percent of the nation has carried almost all the burden of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, while the rest of us essentially went shopping. When the wars turned sour, we could turn our backs.

A nation that disregards the consequences of its gravest decisions is operating in the morally hazardous territory. We invaded Iraq recklessly. If we had a draft, a retired general said to me recently; we probably would not have invaded at all.

If there had been a draft in 2001, I think we still would have gone to war in Afghanistan, which was the right thing to do. But I don't think we would have stayed there much past the middle of 2002 or handled the war so negligently for years after that.

We had a draft in the 1960s, of course, and it did not stop President Lyndon Johnson from getting into a ground war in Vietnam. But the draft sure did encourage people to pay attention to the war and decide whether they were willing to support it.

Resuming conscription is the best way to reconnect the people with the armed services. Yes, reestablishing a draft, with all its Vietnam-era connotations, would cause problems for the military, but those could never be as painful and expensive as fighting a war in Iraq for almost nine years. A draft would be good for our nation and ultimately for our military.

Thomas E. Ricks is a fellow at the Center for a New American Security and the author of "The Generals: American Military Command from World War II to Today." 

Return of Military Draft Not in Sight
By Rik Jesse and Tim Walters
Young men today no longer face the prospect of being called to compulsory military duty. This month marks the 40th anniversary since the draft ended, and the military became an all-volunteer force.

The switch has had both positive and negative effects on the military and the nation as a whole, depending on who you ask.

Today's fighting force is undeniably better educated and motivated than in the days when much of the enlisted ranks of the Army were filled with conscripts on two-year tours.

Nearly all of today's enlisted men and women have at least a high school diploma. Many are college graduates. There is a perception that there are fewer discipline problems than during the Vietnam War-era. The all-volunteer military has consistently demonstrated its ability from Desert Storm to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

But an all-volunteer military also means that the burden of defending the nation is carried by a small fraction of Americans.

Robert Taylor, a professor of American military history and head of the Department of Humanities and Communication at Florida Institute of Technology, said the all-volunteer military has been a success, though it is "a two-sided coin."

"The downside is that the vast majority of the American people expect the small number of people to fight our wars for us," he said.

That relatively small group is carrying the weight of service in the military, which has led to multiple deployments in Iraq and Afghanistan.

From World War II to the final days of Vietnam, nearly every young man in the country faced the prospect of being drafted into the Army. Even major celebrities like Elvis Presley got caught up in the draft.

As time went on, more young men were able to avoid the draft by attending college or seeking other deferments.

Research published in the late 1970s showed that men from low-income or disadvantaged backgrounds were more likely to fight in Vietnam than men from middle- and high-income families who could avoid being drafted by going to college or finding a slot in a stateside National Guard unit.

"The American people lost confidence in the draft as a means of raising an army when it ceased to require equal sacrifice from everyone that was eligible to serve," said Bernard Rostker, a former director of the Selective Service System and the author of "I Want You! The Evolution of the All-Volunteer Force." In which he documents how the United States military was transformed from a poorly disciplined force of conscripts and draft-motivated "volunteers" to a force of professionals revered throughout the world.

Others, though, say that compulsory military service gave valuable discipline and direction to many young men.

Retired Army Sgt. 1st Class Juan Santiago, a Vietnam War veteran, said that because many draftees didn't want to go to the war, there were problems. But having to serve was good for many of the draftees who could have ended up in trouble.

"The Army molded them to be good citizens," said Santiago, 74, of Melbourne, Fla.

 

 

 


Tell Your Military Story

Message from Army Generals

Gen. Martin Dempsey, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, wrote in a commentary in 2013, "As a nation, we've learned to separate the warrior from the war. But we still have much to learn about how to connect the warrior to the citizen. We can't allow a sense of separation to grow between us."

Gen. Raymond T. Odierno, Army Chief of Staff, wrote in the June-Sept 2015 Echoes Newsletter for retired soldiers the following: "As our soldiers return to civilian life, we want them to be able to positively influence the next generation to serve and to connect to the communities across the nation with its military."

I ask that each of you help tell the Army story because you are the critical link between the Army and the nation. It is you who can help to maintain the bond that connects our communities with our military."

Tell Your Military Story

Less than one percent of Americans serve in the U.S. military. Since ours has been an all-volunteer military for 42 years, the majority of the 99 percent don't come into personal contact with service members. Many would be surprised to learn how much responsibility a 22-year-old noncommissioned officer has or understand how important training and teamwork are for surviving combat or difficult peacetime missions. 

They may also be surprised to learn about the personal sacrifices and separation that military members and their families endure routinely. This is where retired military and veterans come in.

However, since few active-duty or retired military and veterans are trained or experienced public speakers, but these skills are not necessary to tell your story. Some key points to follow are:

  • Know your audience. What you say to children is different than what you say to business or civic leaders.
  • Connect with your audience. Listen first to what is important to them; then explain how what you did in the military affects their lives.
  • Speak about your own experiences with conviction. Personal stories are the most effective. Few civilians will understand the technical part of your military duties, but they will understand teamwork, helping others and successfully completing a mission.
  • Remember to tell them why you served; for family, friends, and neighbors and to protect our way of life.


It is important you select topics you can talk about. Here are a few:

  • When you found strength in yourself or your unit
  • When you or your team overcame a challenge
  • When you provided disaster relief at home or abroad
  • How being a service member made you feel.

Important Note: Together We Served is the perfect place to record your military service story.

Together We Served was designed to capture the service memories of our military veterans so they will never be forgotten. On the right side of your Together We Served Profile Page is a 14 part self-interview called "Reflections on Your Service". You can complete your Reflections one question at a time. Once completed, your Reflections are presented in a unique "Shadow Box" format, along with all your ribbons, insignia and badges, service chronology and photo albums. Your Shadow Box has your own personal web address which you can share with your family members and friends.

This is your chance to tell your story of your time in the service, in your own words and photographs, and leave a lasting legacy for your family and future generations of the people and events that made an impact on you during an important time in your life.

Log in today and start your Reflections. You will be glad you did.

 

 


Profiles in Courage: America's

Richard Ira "Dick" Bong, was born September 24, 1920, in St. Mary's hospital in Superior, Wisconsin. He was the first of nine children born to Carl T. Bong and Dora Bryce Bong, living on a farm near the small town of Poplar, Wisconsin, about 20 miles southeast of Superior. Dick's father came to the United States from Sweden at the age of seven, and his mother was of Scots-English descent. Dick grew up on the family farm and attended the Poplar Grade School. He then attended the Poplar High School, which consisted of only three grades. Consequently, he completed his senior year at the Superior Central High School in 1938 by commuting 44 miles round-trip. 

Bong's interest in aviation began in 1928 when President Coolidge was vacationing near Superior and established a summer White House in the Superior High School. His mail was delivered to him daily by an airplane. Dick was fascinated. Later, he recalled that the mail plane "flew right over our house, and I knew then that I wanted to be a pilot." Soon he was spending countless hours building model planes.

Following graduation from Superior Central High School, he entered Wisconsin State Teachers College. Determined to be a pilot, he enrolled in the college's government-sponsored Civilian Pilot training program. He took flying lessons in a Piper J-3 Cub and earned his private pilot license. After two and a half years of college, he enlisted in the Army Air Corps Aviation Cadet Program in early 1941. He entered service at Wausau, Wisconsin, on May 29, 1941, and was sent to the Rankin Aeronautical Academy, a primary flight school near Tulare, California, where he soloed in a Steerman biplane trainer on June 25, 1941.

He took his basic flight training in a BT-13 at Gardner Field near Taft, California. Then he was sent to Luke Field near Phoenix, Arizona, for advanced single-engine pilot training in an AT-6 Texan. His gunnery instructor at Luke was Captain Barry Goldwater, who later said, "I taught him fighter gunnery. He was a very bright student." But the most important thing came from a P-38 check pilot who said Bong was the finest natural pilot he ever met. "There was no way he could keep Bong from not getting on his tail, even though he was flying an AT-6, a very slow airplane."

After he received his wings at Luke Field, Arizona, on January 9, 1942, Lt Bong, spent three months as an instructor at Luke. On May 6, 1942, he was transferred to Hamilton Field near San Francisco, for aerial combat training in the twin-engine, twin-tail P-38 Lightning fighter.

It was at Hamilton that Bong first raised the ire and the admiration of Maj. Gen. George C. Kenney, commanding General of the Fourth Air Force. The field's location resulted in some aerial antics by Bong, such as "looping the loop" around the center span of the Golden Gate Bridge in his P-38, and waving to stenographers in office buildings as he flew along Market Street. But more serious was his blowing clean wash off a clothesline in Oakland. That was the last straw for Kenney, who chewed him out and told him, "Monday morning, you check this address out in Oakland, and if the woman has any washing to be hung out on the line, you do it for her. Then you hang around being useful - mowing the lawn or something - and when the clothes are dry, take them off the line and bring them into the house. And don't drop any of them on the ground, or you will have to wash them all over again. I want this woman to think we are good for something else besides annoying people. Now get out of here before I get mad and change my mind. That's all."

Assigned to the 9th Fighter Group, in Brisbane, Australia, he was sent shortly afterward to Port Moresby, New Guinea, where he was temporarily attached to the 39th Fighter Squadron, 35th Fighter Group. There, two days after Christmas, he scored his first victories, downing a Val and a Zeke over Dobodura. By January 1943, he was an ace, his fifth victory an Oscar over the Anon Gulf.

Flying the P-38 Lightning in the Pacific theater Maj. Richard Bong was the top-scoring U.S. Ace during WWII with 40 kills. 

A skilled flyer, Bong was noted for his silent approaches to his airfield with both engines feathered. As he swooped over the field, he would loop his P-38 and land.

He claimed to have poor gunnery skills (this was far from the truth in that he was so good at gunnery that his commanding officer had him remain at Luke as an instructor for several months) for which he compensated by closing on his targets until he was nearly touching them. After he topped Eddie Rickenbacker's WWI record of 26 kills, Bong was reassigned to training duties, but he managed to bend the rules and shoot down thirteen more planes.

At Tacloban Airfield on Leyte on December 12, 1944, Dick Bong was awarded the nation's highest honor by General Douglas MacArthur, Commander of all U.S. Army units in the Far East who, after casting aside a prepared speech, said: "Dick Bong, a hero in an era of heroes, represents a generation of young men and women who willingly left their farms, villages, and cities to defend their country's freedom. They carried out the work that had to be done - and did it well." 

Bong was the first fighter pilot handpicked by Gen. George C. Kenney in the fall of 1942 for a P-38 squadron designed to strengthen his Fifth Air Force in Australia and New Guinea. Dick Bong loved flying, and the P-38 was the ideal fighting plane for the combat techniques he mastered: swooping down on his targets and blasting them at dangerously close range, then pulling up fast. His own aircraft was damaged in battle in several of his missions, once so badly he had to crash-land. 

Gen. Kenney pulled Dick Bong out of combat when his score reached 40 and sent him home to "marry Marjorie and start thinking about raising a lot of towheaded Swedes." Dick and Marge Vattendahl were married on February 10, 1945, in Concordia Lutheran Church in Superior, an event attended by 1,200 guests and covered by the international press. 

The couple honeymooned in California for several weeks where their stops included Hollywood and the Sequoia National Park before reporting to the Flight Test Section of the Air Technical Command at Wright Field (Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton, Ohio). Dick began training for a new assignment in Burbank, California: testing the plane that would take the Air Force into the jet age - the Lockheed P-80 Shooting Star.

Bong then became a test pilot assigned to Lockheed's Burbank, California, plant, where he flew P-80 Shooting Star jet fighters at the Lockheed Air Terminal. On August 6, 1945, the plane's primary fuel pump malfunctioned during takeoff on the acceptance flight of a P-80A. Bong either forgot to switch to the auxiliary fuel pump, or for some reason was unable to do so. Bong cleared away from the aircraft but was too low for his parachute to deploy. His body, partially wrapped in the shrouds of his parachute, was found 100 feet from the plane's jet engine. The plane crashed into a narrow field at Oxnard St & Satsuma Ave, North Hollywood. His death was front-page news across the country, sharing space with the first news of the Atomic bombing of Hiroshima.

On August 8, 1945, he was buried in the Poplar Cemetery, Poplar, Wisconsin.

He was the recipient of the Medal of Honor, Distinguished Service Cross, Silver Star with one Oak Leaf Cluster, Distinguished Flying Cross with six OLCs, Air Medal with 14 OLCs, the American Campaign Medal, the American Defense Service Medal, the Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal with one Silver Service Star, the Philippine Liberation Medal, the World War II Victory Medal, the Australian Distinguished Flying Cross, and the Distinguished Unit Citation with one Oak Leaf Cluster awarded to the 49th Fighter Group.

Major Bong was also honored when the airport at Superior, Wisconsin, was named the Richard Bong Airport. In his hometown of Poplar, there is a Bong Memorial room in the Poplar High School that includes his uniform, all twenty-six of his decorations, photographs, newspaper clippings, and even a fragment of the plane in which he was killed. Outside is mounted a P-38 Lightning fighter, similar to the one he flew.

 


Operation Castle

I served aboard the USS Curtiss AV-4 from the summer of 1953 to December 1955. I was a Damage Control 2nd and worked out of the carpenter shop. The ship operated out of San Diego, Calif. and was moored at North Island Naval Base. 

When we went to the Marshall Islands in January 1954 on Operation Castle, the ship anchored near a very small island that for all appearances was completely barren except for some palm trees. Later on, we would find out why we were at this particular island. At that time, our mission was classified top secret since as we were carrying nuclear scientists and the actual Hydrogen bomb. We had Marines aboard for security reasons to keep unqualified personnel from going near restricted areas on the Curtiss.  

For recreation, they sent the Ships Company on picnics to this island periodically by rotating the port side one day and starboard another. The ship had brought several cases of beer and liquor to be consumed at these picnics; needless to say, we had quite a few drunken sailors. 
 
I and a couple of other shipmates had taken a senior life-saving course before we went on Operation Castle, so we had to play lifeguard at a few of these picnics. They gave us a little dingy boat to patrol the beach with.  

We were about to find out why we had anchored at this island. On "shot day" we got underway and moved off from the island, I guess a good 25 to 30 miles, and on the morning of the detonation, we lost our picnic island. That is where they had placed the bomb. When the smoke cleared, there was nothing but ocean. I don't remember the actual size of the island. Just guessing, I would say at least three-quarters of a mile wide and a mile long. 

During the Operation Castle tests in the Marshalls, I had the duty assignment of Radiation Monitor. We had to wear protective gear and RBA (Rescue Breathing Apparatus) and carry a Geiger counter to monitor the radiation levels outside the ship after a detonation. After an explosion, they would energize the washdown system for a period of time and then send us out to check levels of radiation. At the time, the scuttlebutt going around was that some of the other ships in our task force got caught in the fallout, and many ship's personnel received high levels of radiation. We heard they shipped some out to hospitals for treatment. 

I do remember on one of the tests; I think the first, we were all above decks to observe the blast, 15 Megatons. The only ones who could face the detonation were the ones with infrared goggles. The rest of us had to turn our backs and cover our eyes for so many seconds until the fireball dissipated. 

Even though we were about 30 miles from ground zero, I remember the heat on the back of my neck was like it feels with a severe sunburn, and the flash was brighter than the daylight, and the sun was out. We received the shock wave several seconds after the blast, and I think every sailor that was wearing hats, lost them. It sure is an experience you never forget.

The operation was really a disaster, as we would find out years later.

Editor: Operation Castle was a US series of high-yield (high-energy) nuclear tests by Joint Task Force 7 (JTF-7) at Bikini Atoll, Marshall Islands, beginning in March 1954. Operation Castle was organized into seven experiments. 

Castle Bravo, the code name given as the first test of Operation Castle, was detonated on March 1, 1954.  Due to miscalculations, it was the most powerful nuclear device ever detonated by the US with a yield of 15 megatons of TNT. That yield, far exceeding the expected yield of 4 to 8 megatons combined with other factors, led to the most significant accidental radioactive contamination ever caused by the United States. 

Because Castle Bravo greatly exceeded its expected yield, JTF-7 was caught unprepared. Much of the permanent infrastructure on Bikini Atoll was heavily damaged. The intense thermal flash ignited a fire at a distance of 20 nautical miles (37 km) on the island of Eneu (base island of Bikini Atoll). 

The fallout from the detonation - intended to be a secret test -contaminated all of the atolls, so much so, that it could not be approached by JTF-7 for 24 hours after the test, and even then exposure times were limited. The islanders were not evacuated until three days later and suffered radiation sickness. They were returned to the islands three years later but were removed again when their island was found to be unsafe. The 23-man crew of the Japanese fishing vessel Daigo Fukury - Maru ("Lucky Dragon No. 5"), was also contaminated by fallout, killing one crew member. Twenty-eight Americans stationed on the Rongerik Atoll were also exposed.

The blast created an international reaction about atmospheric thermonuclear testing, and an awareness of the long-range effects of nuclear fallout has been attributed as being part of the motivation for the Partial Test Ban Treaty of 1963.

 


 


Military Facts and Legends: Landmines

Horrific stories and pictures from all around the world often show that large numbers of civilians are the main landmine casualties and continued to be so years after the warring factions have left the battlefield. Even today, with a multitude of mine-clearing methods and equipment, de-mining efforts remain challenging and risky. This is particularly true in cases where records were not kept on exact locations for any or all landmines.

On land where minefields are known to exist, that land is unusable until the mines are cleared. This means that people who depend on the surrounding region for their livelihoods may have to find alternatives ways of life.

Throughout the world, places that have been involved in a war and/or civil strife often have large minefields that still need clearing. In 2013, it was estimated that there was a global average of around nine mine-related deaths every day. The situation is especially dire in Africa. 

In Vietnam, 40 years after the war's end, Vietnamese civilians are still routinely killed and maimed by leftover mines and other explosives. Vietnam estimates that more than 42,000 people have been killed in such accidents since 1975. While mines kill and maim the Vietnamese all over former battlefields, most occur on more than one-third of the land in six central Vietnamese provinces still contaminated with land mines and unexploded bombs from the Vietnam War. The results of unexploded ordnance are the most sensitive legacies of the conflict.

A study by the Vietnam Veterans of America Foundation and Vietnam's Ministry of defense provides the most detailed information to date about the amount and location of unexploded ordinance littering a region that saw some of the heaviest fighting and bombardment during the war. It is estimated 16.3 million acres are still contaminated across the country.

In addition to mapping unexploded mines and ordinance, the project, which the U.S. government provided $2 million to finance, involved clearing 3,345 acres of land in 1,361 communities across the six provinces. 

Typically, clearing a minefield involves men in body armor walking in very precise lines with metal detectors. Anything (from a rusty nail to an old ammo cartridge) that sets the detectors off must be investigated before moving on. A new method of bomb detection using rats, however, is flipping this process on its head. 

A Belgian NGO called APOPO has developed a way to train African pouched rats (named for the storage pouch in their cheeks) to sniff out bombs quickly and safely.

They used rats because they have an incredibly fine-tuned sense of smell and a long lifespan (8-9 years) to yield returns on the nine months of training they undergo.

They're called HeroRats, and not one has died in the line of duty since the program started in 1997. 

The average mine requires 5 kg (roughly 11 pounds) of weight to trigger an explosion, but even the biggest of these rats are only around 1.5 kg (3.3 pounds). 

Since they're trained to sniff out explosives exclusively, they aren't distracted by other metal objects the way human minesweepers are. 

They can effectively search 200 square meters in less than 20 minutes. A team of humans would need around 25 hours to do the same job. 

The rats are "paid" in avocados, peanuts, bananas, and other yummy, healthy treats.

After about 4-5 years on the job (or whenever they lose interest in working), they're allowed to retire.

 


Book Review: Vietnam and Beyond: Veteran Reflections

 
Those who have fought on a battlefield often describe it as a combination of extreme excitement and gut-wrenching terror. It's also a huge assault to the emotions that can leave permanent mental health damage. Today, that condition is called post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). In the past, it has been known as battle fatigue (WWI) and shell shock (WWII). 

This well-styled, organized, and powerfully written book is a compilation of first-hand accounts by warriors who suffer some aspects of emotional trauma as well as others who have full-blown PTSD.

At the center of the book are a collection of letters co-author Jim Markson wrote home while serving in Vietnam with the U.S. Air Force 377th Security Police Squadron as security for the Tan Son Nhut Air Base. His tour was from March 1967 to March 1968. 

His first batch of letters home were relatively placid, containing relaxed messages about arriving in Vietnam; going to the PX; the boredom; how he had gone into Saigon and had shrimp cocktail and a filet mignon; and how he felt a little guilty collecting combat pay since things at Tan Son Nhut have been pretty quiet. This was the nature of his letters for the first 10-11 months. That all changed on January 30, 1968, when some 70,000 North Vietnamese and Viet Cong forces launched the Tet Offensive with one of their biggest targets being Tan Son Nhut Air Base.

At 2 a.m., January 30, the airbase was heavily rocketed, followed by thousands of enemy combatants rushing over the barriers. For one and a half days, it was a pitched battle, but the Security Police, despite being outnumbered, and with help from the U.S. Army Helicopter and ground units, the attackers were unable to overrun the base. Nearly 1,000 enemy combatants were killed. Four fellow air policemen were also killed. 

It was after this horrendous, deadly battle that his letters took on a more fatalist tone. It was his reflections that told the story, his recollection of Tet and the many enemy rockets, the close calls, and the souring of hometown Americans on the war. The last few were more laid-back. His last letter home was March 1, 1968.  It was light-hearted as had been his initial letters. In it, he described his trip home on the "freedom bird" and how exhausted he was physically and emotionally. Like many others, it wasn't until later that he recognized he suffered from PTSD. He was diagnosed with PTSD 39 years after he left Vietnam and 20 years after his divorce from his wife and co-author, Jenny La Sala, who writes about the impact of what it is like to live with someone with PTSD, including her WWII veteran father who had his own "demons from war." 

The power of the book and its uniqueness are the insightful reflection wrote by Markson decades later. This is the true and lasting value of this excellent, must-read book for those with PTSD or lives with someone with the disorder.

In the book's second half, La Sala presents interviews with men and women veterans from World War II, Korea, Vietnam and Afghanistan, and Iraq who shared their stories on how the war changed them. If the veteran was deceased, it was his children who wrote on the difficulties of living with him. Writing about the interviews, she wrote, "These short accounts follow the pattern of Markson's service: patriotic young men transformed by battle. Those who escaped physically unscathed paid the price of long mental anguish. At the same time, their reflections on the past are a tribute to human fortitude. In the most casual manner, they deliver lines that transcended their pain and suffering." 

Whether a story was in great detail or short, the common link was the emotional drama they felt participating in war. Most interesting was how some wrote about holding no animosity toward fellow Americans who were anti-war protestors. Many also shared they were proud of their service.

La Salla wrote, "We as children, wives, brothers, and sisters also suffer from the effects of secondhand PTSD, contributing to shaping and molding our personalities, interrupting what and who we could have been. We need to open our hearts and minds to our returning soldiers and help them transition back home again the benefit of the soldier, his family, and society as a whole."

In those words, she wrapped up the entire purpose of her and Markson's excellent book and what it has to offer the reader. All veterans of war could gain a greater understanding of their own "demons of war" by reading this important, excellently written book. I know I did.

Reader Review
This book helps us understand that the American war in Vietnam needs to be understood not only from the perspective of the leadership the infantry and the others involved in combat on a daily basis but also from the point of view of the many thousands of Americans who did their duty in relatively unheralded ways.
 - Dr. Philip F. Napoli
Assistant Professor of History, Brooklyn College

About the Authors
 
Jenny La Sala was born in Gary, Indiana, and raised in Portage, Indiana. She is the great, great-granddaughter of a Civil War Veteran, daughter of a WWII Veteran, the sister to a Gulf War Veteran, and former spouse of a Vietnam Veteran. Her first book, "My Military Compass," was published in 2012 under the pen name of Ann Stone to heal from family dysfunction. This led to publishing her 101st Airborne father's wartime letters in the book, "Comes a Soldier's Whisper" in 2013.
 
After receiving hundreds of comments to her daily Facebook postings speaking to the issues of war and the effect on veterans and their families, she started sending out interview questions to many of the veterans who were commenting on her Facebook page. As they questionnaire returned, she saw a distinct pattern: the similarities of war, past and present began to appear.

This opened the door for her expansion to Veterans Advocacy, compassion, and understanding of PTSD and the impetus for writing "Vietnam and Beyond," which was published in September 2014. By sharing their stories in the book, she gave Veterans, especially Vietnam Veterans, the welcome home they never got. This is now her life journey: sharing stories of the healing taking place among our veterans and their families. 

Having collected stories from hundreds of soldiers, she is well into her next book. 

For more on Jenny La Sala's books, please visit her site at http://jennylasala.com/.

Jim Markson was born in Hackensack, New Jersey. His mother was Czechoslovakian Catholic with 11 brothers and sisters; two of her brothers served in the U.S. Army during World War II. Her brother, 2nd Lieutenant Joseph Tengi, was killed just outside of Berlin. Markson's middle name Joseph is named after him. His father was born in Canada and migrated to the United States in the early 1900s. In 1916 he ran away from home and joined the Army, served in the infantry, was wounded twice and discharged under general conditions for misrepresentation of age; he was only 15!! 

His father was Commander of The American Legion Bill Brown Post in Brooklyn, NY. In 2011-2013 Markson became Commander of The Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 107, also in Brooklyn, NY, is one of the oldest VFW'S in the United States, formed in 1919 by World War I Veterans.

In 1966, Markson enlisted in the USAF assigned to Security Police and volunteered for Vietnam, where he spent 366 days. He was Honorably Discharged in 1970. 

Markson considers himself a Veterans Advocate, and every chance he gets, he helps to improve the status and welfare of Veterans. He is semiretired and self-employed and lives in Brooklyn, NY.