Roberts, Ashley, LCpl

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 Service Details
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Current Service Status
USMC Veteran
Current/Last Rank
Lance Corporal
Current/Last Primary MOS
1100-Basic Utilities Marine
Current/Last MOSGroup
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Primary Unit
2003-2003, 1100, Headquarters Marine Corps (HQMC)
Service Years
2003 - 2003
Enlisted Collar Insignia
Lance Corporal

 Official Badges 


 Unofficial Badges 


 Military Associations and Other Affiliations
Marine Corps LeagueChapter 52IN-1 IndianaPost 58
Ship 35Post 99Dept of Indiana
  2003, Marine Corps League
  2003, Disabled American Veterans (DAV), Chapter 52 (Executive Secretary) (Indianapolis, Indiana)
  2007, Women Marines Association, IN-1 Indiana (Sr Vice Commander) (Indiana)
  2007, American Legion, Post 58 (Member at Large) (Greencastle, Indiana)
  2008, Navy Club of the United States of America, Ship 35 (Indianapolis, Indiana)
  2009, American Veterans (AMVETS), Post 99 (Vice President) (Indianapolis, Indiana)
  2009, Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW), Dept of Indiana (Member At Large) (Indianapolis, Indiana)


 Additional Information
What are you doing now:




What I am doing now? Well, That Changes Daily ~I am now the State of Indiana Women Veteran's Program Director~ I work for the Government! HA!


**Update** I am missin my Marine Family!!! I am now in remission, and have recently gotten a promotion! I now work for the Indiana Department of Veterans Affairs as a State Service Officer & assisting the Director.... It is definitely amazing!
I am very blessed to have the opportunity to do what I do. I am a disabled veteran, 80% service-connected as of right now. While on active duty in North Carolina, I broke both feet and my right pelvic bone ~ And was in a wheel chair for 18 1/2 mos. I am now walking, with cane assistance, but feel so very blessed to be home. There is not a morning I wake up that I dont wish I was back in the Corps. Giving to Veterans now, were I could no longer give in the Corps, is the ultimate for me! For me to have the chance to be a Marine and do what I had the opportunity to do, it took those Marines before me to set that path a blaze.... And to you all I am forever thankful. A 'Thank You' would never be enough... Semper Fi
VIETNAM : SGT Robert Davison of Muskegon, Michigan joined the marines at age 14 and died in Vietnam December 17th, 1966 at age 18.
The last American soldier killed in the Vietnam War was Kelton Rena Turner, an 18-year old Marine. He was killed in action on May 15, 1975, two weeks after the evacuation of Saigon, in what became known as the Mayaguez incident.
The youngest Vietnam KIA is believed to be Dan Bullock USMC, at 15 years old.
DAN BULLOCK is honored on Panel 23W, Row 96 of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.
At least 5 men killed in Vietnam were 16 years old. At least 12 men killed in Vietnam were 17 years old.
FATHER AND SON: Richard B. Fitzgibbon Jr. was killed June 08, 1956 his son Richard B. Fitzgibbon III was KIA September 07, 1965. Leo Hester Sr. Died March 10, 1967 in a aircraft crash his son Leo Hester Jr. was KIA November 02, 1969 also in a aircraft crash.

The Marines of Morenci
They led some of the scrappiest high school football and basketball teams that the little Arizona copper town of Morenci (pop. 5,058) had ever known and cheered. They enjoyed roaring beer busts. In quieter moments, they rode horses along the Coronado Trail, stalked deer in the Apache National Forest. And in the patriotic camaraderie typical of Morenci's mining families, the nine graduates of Morenci High enlisted as a group in the Marine Corps. Their service began on Independence Day, 1966. Only 3 returned home. Robert Dale Draper, 19, was killed in an ambush. Stan King, 21, was killed less than a week after reaching Vietnam. Alfred Van Whitmer, 21, was killed while on patrol. Larry J. West, 19 was shot near Quang Nam. Jose Moncayo, 22, was part of an entire platoon wiped out. Clive Garcia, 22, was killed by a booby trap while leading a patrol. FOREVER REMEMBERED

   
Other Comments:

MCL Detachment; Wortman-Lowe Enduring Freedom Detachment #1263 Morristown, In. UPDATE: Thank you to all for your kind words of encouragement. I am definitely staying strong!! The Doc's have said that they have caught the cancer early... so I am hanging in there!! Thank you all for prayers and thoughts! Semper Fi!

What is a veteran? A veteran - whether active duty, retired, national guard or reserve - is someone who, at one point in his life, wrote a blank check made payable to "The United States of America", for an amount of - "up to, and including my life." That is honor, and there are way too many people in this country who no longer understand it. ~Author unknown. The following Information I have found on TheWall-USA.Com. Here are a list of Marines on the Vietnam Buddie System Steven E. Amescua and Anthony J. Blevins joined the Marine Corp on the buddy plan. Steven was KIA May 15, 1968 and Anthony was KIA August 23, 1968.
John A. Jensen and Charles D. Turnbough were buddies who graduated from high school together and joined the Marines together. John was KIA August 27, 1967 and Charles was KIA three days later on August 30, 1967.


The picture below is the link to TheWall-USA.com!!!!
"If you are able, save for them a place inside of you....and save one backward glance when you are leaving for the places they can no longer go.....Be not ashamed to say you loved them.... Take what they have left and what they have taught you with their dying and keep it with your own....And in that time when men decide and feel safe to call the war insane, take one moment to embrace those gentle heroes you left behind...." Quote from a letter home by Maj. Michael Davis O'Donnell KIA 24 March 1970. Distinguished Flying Cross: Shot down and Killed while attempting to rescue 8 fellow soldiers surrounded by attacking enemy forces. We Nam Brothers pause to give a backward glance, and post this remembrance to you , one of the gentle heroes and patriots lost to the War in Vietnam: Slip off that pack. Set it down by the crooked trail. Drop your steel pot alongside. Shed those magazine-ladened bandoliers away from your sweat-soaked shirt. Lay that silent weapon down and step out of the heat. Feel the soothing cool breeze right down to your soul ... and rest forever in the shade of our love, brother.
Thank you Marines for your Sacrifice and Valor. God Bless you all, I love you like brothers and sisters, and know you all are constantly in thoughts and prayers. Semper Fidelis, Ashley A. Roberts State Service Officer Indiana Department of Veterans Affairs 302 W. Washington Street; RM E120 Indianapolis, IN 46204-2738 O: 317/232-3921 asroberts@dva.in.gov

   

 Remembrance Profiles - 517 Marines Remembered
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  THE CHICKEN IN THE POT
   
Date
Oct 26, 2007

Last Updated:
Oct 26, 2007
   
Comments


This story was written by a dear friend of
mine, Jim Pfister. (POW - EM 67-73)
He was a POW for 5 1/2 yrs in Vietnam.

We were at our third POW camp and my survival skills kicked in telling me that I should kill a chicken for food. What I would do is pull some of the fence out from around the compound and use it as a spear to attack the chickens owned by the enemy soldiers. I knew not to spear the chickens out in the open. One day I got Frank Anton's (died in the POW camp) goat really good.

We had a two-hole latrine where the prisoners would just squat and go. One day I saw a chicken go down one of the holes. They did this to get at the maggots. Chickens have survival skills too.

Frank decided that nature was calling and went down to the latrine, squatted over one of the holes and I, in my pursuit for a meaty dinner, started stabbing at the chicken through the other hole. As I did, the chicken started squawking and flapping it's wings which flung you know what all over Frank as the chicken tried to come out of the hole that was occupied by him.

Seeing as how Frank held rank over me, he gave me a "Pfister, what the hell are you doing"?
I said, "Dinner is served"!

As I recall, when the guard asked me what I was doing with the fence, I said, "I'm pulling the fence out dummy"!
You see, the fence was much needed for both spearing critters and for burning in a
five-gallon bucket we had for heat.
The mountains got extremely chilly, especially
at night.

Things that made us laugh happened few and far between but when we did laugh, we were reminded that we were all brothers in this mess (no pun, Frank) together.

Another chicken story goes like this. One day I was sitting on our "oh so comfortable" bamboo beds talking to a fellow prisoner when I saw a flash outside our hooch. I said, "Well here goes me another chicken"! Off I went to track down another meaty meal.

I started down the trail in the direction of the chicken and as I made my way through the thick bamboo and inside the grove, I saw a small clearing. As I peeked into the clearing, low and behold, I was face to face with an 80-pound leopard.

I don't know who scared whom the worse, but in our startled amazement, both of us turned and laid a trail of smoke behind us.

When I got back to the hooch, which was in a much shorter time than the journey to catch the 80 pound chicken, (HA) I told
Isiah McMillian, "If you don't move, you're
gonna die because there is an 80 pound leopard on my heals. I know for a fact Isiah jumped six feet if he jumped one. My game hunting from then on would consist of snakes, rats, mice and whatever else (small) crawled or made noise.

Surviving in the jungle is a constant struggle. In order to get some food to supplement what little the Vietnamese gave us, we would go on
6-15 mile "runs" just to gather enough roots (similar to a potato) to add to our diet.

We were all sick every single day of our life in the jungle, but some were sicker and weaker than others. We tried to do their work for them.

One day I was feeling terribly ill and weak but we needed food so I volunteered for the food run. Believe me, when you have malaria, it is hard enough to stand up, let alone climbing up and down a mountain for miles.

I made it to the gathering place and on the way back I just fell over on the trail. The guard came up, stuck his bayonet to my chest with a good amount of force and said, "Di", which meant go. I said "Not today man, not today!" I was willing to die just to be able to lie there on the trail and not move.

To my surprise, he did not kill me. Not my day to die I guess. My fellow prisoners split up my load of root, each load weighed from 60 to 80 pounds, and they carried this sick little guy back to our camp. This was not a good day.

   
My Photos From This Event
Bien Hoa Under Attack
Bien Hoa Under Attack
Bien Hoa Under Attack
Bien Hoa Under Attack

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