An Island Far Away, Yet Close In Memory

Here in Canada, we are honoring Remembrance Day. Like the US Veterans Day, it dates back to 1921 when the Western Allies all joined together to honor the memory of those lost in the War to End All Wars (supposedly). In Canada, as you may have noticed from various HNIC broadcasts, the fallen are remembered by red lapel poppies. This is based on the famous "Flanders Fields" poem posted below. Lt. Colonel John McCrae, a Canadian surgeon, had been operating on the wounded all day until they brought back a close friend who was beyond his help. He wrote the poem from the friend's gravesite.

I have my own memories this day. They go back to an island on the other side of the world called Tang. There is a video that tells the story of the last battle of the Vietnam Conflict: the Mayaguez incident. I have tried and tried to post it, but either my computer or the website is not cooperating. Here is the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XYWTeT2lXHQ

I was a 19 year old sailor aboard the USS Coral Sea, an aircraft carrier whose construction began during WW II. I had reported aboard on April 1, 1975 after flying from JFK to San Francisco, to Hawaii, to Guam, and then to Clark AFB in the Philippines. Then there was an all afternoon unairconditioned bus ride over the worst roads known to humanity with me still in the dress blues I had started out from NY in 30 hours before. That was some April Fool's Day!!!

A week and a half later, we went out to sea (my first time in the Navy) to assist in the evacuation of Vietnam. If you have seen the image of the helicopter taking off from the building labeled incorrectly as the US embassy, I was there--or at least I was some miles away off the coast as our F-4 fighters escorted the helicopters perfroming the evacuation. We knew in our hearts that we were walking out on our friends--some 66,000 of whom would soon be murdered--and it felt bad.

Then came Mayaguez. The SS Mayaguez--like the Coral Sea now turned to razor blades or whatever else they do with scrapped ships--was a container ship that served US bases throughout Asia. On May 12, 1975, it was stopped by members of the Khmer Rouge armed forces in the Gulf of Thailand. The captain sent out an SOS before he was boarded and--through the wonders of then new satellite technology--President Gerald Ford got to direct the battle almost in real time.

He didn't do the greatest job. In fact, he would have been better off leaving it to the military professionals. But Ford and Secretary of State / National Security Advisor Henry Kissinger wanted to send messages to the North Koreans that they shouldn't mess with us and to the US Congress that he controlled the use of US forces. As a result, a US Marine assault force was sent to an island to rescue hostages that were not there and were, in fact, being released at a separate location as the Marines landed. Twenty three USAF airmen had already died in a crash enroute to another ill-conceived effort to rescue the hostages and in this insertion, 18 US servicemen were also lost needlessly.

Three of these--LCPL Joseph Hargrove, PFC Gary Hall, and Pvt. Danny Marshall--were mistakenly left behind on Tang island at the end of an effort to rescue hostages that were not there. In his excellent book The Last Battle, Ralph Wetterhahn, a USAF pilot during the Vietnam conflict, describes in brutal detail how each of these men were murdered by the Khmer Rouge. In fact, Hall and Marshall were murdered in a Buddhist monastery where the KR had already begun the systematic slaughter of some of the over 1.6 million of their fellow Cambodians.

I still distinctly remember the night--several days after the battle--when I was told the true facts of the so-called victory. I was very idealistic--and am still--and it shook me to the core. After a half year in the bottle, God helped me find my way out and I promised Him that I would do what I could to see that these men were remembered and to make the world a better place as well. It was during this time that I began to pay attention to an up and coming ice hockey team called the NY Islanders. I was on the West coast and saw my first game in the LA Forum on March 24th, 1976. Denis scored and so did Marcel and the game ended in one of those now forbidden ties, 1-1. So my passion for the Islanders is driven by their connection to a very special time in my life.

I have also not forgotten my promise. In 2006, circumstances forced me to focus on it. In the space of a few short months, I was diagnosed with Chronic Lymohocytic Leukemia (CLL) which had also afflicted my father, grandfather, and uncles, was married, became a father, and moved to a new country. Since then, I have been unable to work thanks to Immigration Canada and--more recently--our own Veterans Administration.

My promise has begun to take shape during this period. I have devised a plan that I call "One World, One Community." It creates non-governmental organizations (NGOs) in US high schools. Students in this program will work on projects funded through the federal government and private organizations that would benefit their own and a partnered Developing World community.

After contacting various charitable organizations and political campaigns, I visited the offices of two senators and one congressman representing the areas that Hargrove, Hall, and Marshall were from. The staffer from Senator Kay Hagan's office (D-NC) seemed most impressed and the family of LCPL Hargrove are from that state and have been most active in trying to keep his memory alive. I will be emailing a member of that family later today and hopefully we can get something passed into law in time for the 35th anniversary of the battle of Tang Island. Lest we forget.  

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

— Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872 - 1918)