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Peace at any cost is a prelude to war!
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********** VOICE OF THE GRUNT
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********** 10 November 1999
********** Happy 224th Birthday Marines!
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TABLE OF CONTENTS ARTICLES
Hack's Column
An Important New Mission For Veterans 1
Mac Notes 2
>From The Field:
One Lucky Fellow 3
Be Careful How You Use "Hero" 4
Our Under Paid Troops 5
Medic! Do I Have TRICARE? 6
Medal of Honor: 7
BUSH, RICHARD EARL
Cpl., USMCR, 1st Battalion, 4th Marines, 6th Marine Division.
Mount Yaetake on Okinawa, Ryukyu Islands, 16 April 1945.
Commentary:
Medal of Honor Memorial Dedication 8
By SSgt. Kathleen Rhem, USA
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ARTICLE 1
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"AN IMPORTANT NEW MISSION FOR VETERANS"
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By David H. Hackworth
On the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in the year 1918, World
War I finally came to an end. At the conclusion of that horrible blood
bath, President Wilson declared it was the war that would "end all wars"
and designated Nov. 11 as "Armistice Day."
After the Korean War, President Eisenhower changed Armistice Day to
Veterans' Day to honor American vets from all of our wars. Unlike the vast
majority of our presidents, Ike, having been a soldier, knew about war.
He'd seen the results of two horror shows -- conflicts which together
killed almost half a million American warriors long after the day Wilson
declared war obsolete and ordered the immediate dismantling of our forces.
Ike had learned at West Point and on the field of strife that "only the
dead have seen the last of war." He also learned as a soldier in 1940 and
again 10 years later how pitifully prepared his army and his nation were to
fight World War II and the Korean War.
Since 1914, tens of millions of humans have become war casualties in
virtually every corner of what is euphemistically called the "civilized"
world. And in the next century, we can only expect more of the same
senseless killing.
At the end of the most blood-spattered century in history, war remains the
only way our "advanced society" resolves conflict. Plato was right. War
won't go away. And even the dumbest guy or gal in the class knows that the
only way to stop war -- or at least reduce the number of historical dates
of infamy such as Pearl Harbor -- is for our nation to be always prepared
for war.
What worries me is that our politicians never learn from the past. Since
just after the War of Independence, they've always made the same mistakes:
never being ready when the sucker punch is swung; then rushing to build a
costly and powerful winning military machine; and then after victory,
letting the cycle start again by allowing the Wilsons, Trumans, Bushes and
Clintons to destroy the mighty sword that cut up the bad guys without any
consideration for the next contenders already training for their shot at
the winner.
The only American group that really knows about war is our vets. But
sadly, once most vets take off their uniforms, they stick their heads in
the sand and allow the non-vet politicians to either dangerously shorten
or, as in the case of Clinton over the past seven years, badly dull our
military sword.
Vets certainly have the numbers to stop the politicians from this
negligence and ensure that our forces are ready for war. By some estimates,
there are more than 35 million living vets who've served or are now
serving. Imagine if these vets banded together and demanded that we learn
from the past. And that we arm and equip our soldiers and sailors with the
best equipment available, ensure they're trained to a razor's edge before
the battle, are only led by the finest warrior leaders and that the
conflict in question is always a matter of national security.
Imagine if they as a group insisted our politicians explain why our forces
today are stretched around the world doing Meals On Wheels and Salvation
Army work instead of preparing to defend America and our interests. Imagine
if they asked why our serving soldiers and sailors are required to take the
Anthrax inoculation. Many of them believe it has dangerous side effects and
that they're being used as guinea pigs the way their brothers and sisters
were during Desert Storm. Imagine if 35 million vets took the time to write
to their representatives in Washington demanding that the politicians
volunteer to take the shots before they're given to the troops. Imagine if
this potentially powerful lobby group that has "been there and done that
the hard way" demanded that our armed forces be organized now for the wars
of the 21st century rather than another crossing of the Delaware River
under a latter-day George Washington.
Our vets have earned their right to sound off. They have a potentially
powerful voice, and they should learn to exercise it. Then Veterans' Day
would make a lot more sense and have a far greater impact.
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ARTICLE 2
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******MAC NOTES******
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By Robert L. McMahon, 10 November 1999
First, please let me wish all of you a Happy Veterans' Day and Happy
Birthday! I wish this to both Hack (11 November '30) as well as the USMC.
The USMC, or as many a DI has called it, - MY BELOVED CORPS! - is 224 years
old today. My late Uncle Jim, a former Marine himself, would have turned 64
today. Thank God for the Uncle Jim's of this country.
Hack received an interesting note from a SNCO saying that Congress has
turned up its nose at the thought of getting the Anthrax vaccine battery
after an Air Force NCO suggested it. Gee, wonder why?
If it's good enough for every member of our military who are at risk from
terrorist attack, it must be good enough for our august deliberative bodies
to get as well. Would hate to see Congress be the victim of some Anthrax
bomb attack at a well known Washington watering-hole and not have our
Senators and Representatives immunized against this deadly pathogen.
To salute Veterans' Day and the USMC Birthday, why not write a short note
to your Congressional Representative asking about their stand on the
Anthrax Vaccine? You can reach Congressional e-mail addresses and office
numbers through Hack's website and clicking on "Congressional E-Mail" or go
directly there at:
http://www.webslingerz.com/jhoffman/congress-email.html.
Let's send them a message.
Also, let's talk about the 4.8% pay raise. Will this raise make a
difference between staying and leaving? Is it fair in your view or do you
perceive it as the Generals get $10,000 and the Privates get .10 cents. In
your view is the brass cutting the chow-line for all the big pieces? Maybe
you can mention that to them as well.
You know, I come from a family of Police Officers. My Grandfather, Pete
Garvey, was a traffic cop at the Holland Tunnel in the 30's and 40's and my
Uncle, Howard Finney, was the Police Commissioner of Buffalo in the early
60's. They taught me an expression that was once used in a television
campaign to support the NYPD. The expression was, "You wouldn't walk down
that dark alley for a million bucks. A cop does it for a lot less." In 1933
Babe Ruth was paid $70,000 a year to hit balls over a wall and entertain
crowds. In 1944 a Private in the 101st Airborne was paid less than $2,000 a
year to help save the free world. You figure it out. I mean all the Babe
had to face was a hang-over and the Red Sox. Compare that to a German
Armored attack and swift, violent death.
Hack is back for duty, but not for long folks. This Friday he will be up
the Hudson River at West Point to give a combat leadership talk. Man, would
I like to be there for that one! He leaves for the "Left Coast" on the 14th
and is scheduled to be in Boston to give talk on the 17th. But wait, he
then flies to D.C. for a book signing at the "Puzzle Palace" itself and
then drives over to the Press Club for another signing and talk. The Press
Club affair is a really big deal to boot.
And if that isn't enough for you, I've just been assigned a project that
will keep me in St. Louis for 3-4 days a week for the next six months!
All of you will be happy to know that Hack's latest book and first novel
has risen to be No. 8 on The Los Angeles Times booklist. For some obtuse
reason that escapes me, The New York Times has not reviewed it yet. I can
only hope that The Wall Street Journal has an Editor on board that will
find the time to read it and review it. Please don't tell me that the East
Coast establishment of literary geniuses that wrote about "Monica's" book
last Spring ("…yeah, so like then I showed him my thong….") cannot find the
time for a first novel by one of the military's legends.
Have a good week!
Semper Fi,
Bob
[EMAIL PROTECTED]
http://www.freeyellow.com:8080/members7/rlmcmahon/
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ARTICLE 3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ONE LUCKY FELLOW
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SUMMARY: A great Veterans' Day piece about a Vietnam POW.
*****************************************************
By Rudi Williams
American Forces Press Service
FORT BELVOIR, Va. -- Norman A. McDaniel, 62, calls himself, "One of the
luckiest of the unlucky."
His bad luck was being shot down over North Vietnam and held as a prisoner
of war for nearly seven years. McDaniel was flying his 51st mission in an
EB-66C electronic reconnaissance aircraft when he was shot down July 20,
1966, about 30,000 feet in the air some 30 miles northwest of Hanoi.
"If it had been a direct hit, I wouldn't be speaking with you now,"
McDaniel said in his office at the Defense Systems Management College at
Fort Belvoir, Va., where he is a professor of systems acquisition
management. "The missile detonated close to the airplane and some of the
fragments punctured the fuel tanks."
As McDaniel's parachute glided to the ground, he saw flames and smoke
gushing out of the aircraft as it zoomed toward the ground and crashed in a
ball of flames.
"As I neared the ground, I heard something go, 'Zing! Zing! Zing!'"
McDaniel said. "I looked up and saw rips being torn in the canopy of my
chute by bullets being fired by Vietnamese from the ground. I landed on a
grassy knoll with nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. They converged on me
from all directions, so I was captured in less than a minute after hitting
the ground. He suffered burns from head to toe on his left side, a flesh
wound on the neck and a sprained left ankle.
His North Vietnamese captors used hard interrogation techniques. "They'd
drag you out, beat you, slap you, kick you, then throw you back onto the
concrete slab in the dark cell," he said. "You'd lie there, not knowing if
it's day or night, and doze off. You might think you were sleeping for two
or three hours when you only slept for 20 minutes. Then they'd drag you
back for another round of torture and interrogation."
Sometimes the interrogators would tie his wrists and ankles tight enough to
restrict blood flow and induce swelling and excruciating pain. Sometimes
they'd tie his hands and feet together behind his back, then slip a meat
hook into the knots and hang him in the air. Other times, he said, they'd
beat him with rubber straps and punch and kick him mercilessly.
"It got to the point where you didn't know if you could make it through the
next moment," McDaniel said. "There were times when the torture was so
tough, so severe, that I felt like throwing up my hands and saying, 'It's
just not worth it.' Sometimes I'd say, 'Men, women die every day, so let it
go!'"
But then he would tell himself prisoners have been tortured in every war.
"If some of them survived, I can, too," he said, and he would promise
himself, "I've got to get back to my family."
The North Vietnamese tried to torture prisoners into revealing
biographical, military and propaganda information. "They even tried to play
the race card with me," McDaniel said. "They'd say, you're a black man,
we're colored people and the United States is waging a war of genocide
against colored people.
"They knew enough about the Black Panthers, officers being fragged by
enlisted people in South Vietnam and the friction between black and white
GIs in Europe to throw them in my face saying, 'You must agree with us,
help us," he said. "They wanted me to make propaganda appearances."
He would anger his captors by countering their remarks and arguing his
point. "When I did that, I'd get slapped around, kicked around," McDaniel
said. "They called me an Uncle Tom, lackey and all that, but I wasn't about
to betray my oath or be disloyal to my country."
The torture was horrible, and so was the food, McDaniel noted. The
prisoners thought the North Vietnamese went out of their way to find the
worst garbage they could and feed it to them. Only after peace negotiations
got under way in 1969 did the prisoners learn the North Vietnamese
themselves were not faring much better.
"They fed us old cod-type fish with scales and heads and something we
called swamp weeds because they grew them in the wet marsh area," McDaniel
said. "We were given two meals a day. You'd get a small bowl with about an
inch and a half of rice, a smaller bowl of watery swamp soup or some kind
of greens or bamboo shoots. Sometimes you'd get what they called a side
dish, a little bit of pork fat or a smattering of chopped up chicken with
the bones. I never saw bread for the first 10 months I was there.
"Sometimes the food tasted terrible, almost made you puke to smell it and
eat it. But my philosophy was, 'If it's going to help me stay alive, I'll
eat it,'" McDaniel noted. Some prisoners died from dysentery and beriberi
because they couldn't stomach the foul food, he said.
"When I was shot down, I weighed about 155 pounds. I went down to about
115, which wasn't bad," he said. "Some of the guys dropped from 190, 200
pounds down to 110, 115 pounds. That's the way it was until Ho Chi Minh
died in September 1969. After that, our treatment improved. By the time we
were released in 1973, my weight was back up to normal.
McDaniel said there wasn't any yelling "hurray" or any other excitement
when the prisoners were told they were to be released.
"Just a few grunts, a few coughs, because we didn't believe it," he said.
"When it finally did happen on Feb. 12, 1973, we were bused out of the
prison camp to the airport, and boarded a C-141 medical evacuation airplane
to fly to the Philippines."
McDaniel said he felt no exhilaration about finally going home, just
awareness. "We had to control ourselves in the prison camps to the point
that I'd lost touch with my emotions," he said. "I knew things were
happening, but I didn't feel them."
He said prisoners learned to conceal their emotions because showing anger,
hostility, toughness or meanness was an invitation to torture by the North
Vietnamese. "They'd beat you and just wear you down," he said. "When we got
to the Philippines, I learned that my father and younger sister had died in
1968. I heard it, but didn't feel it.
~~> article continued in Part B ~~>
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