thedrifter
10-03-02, 09:41 AM
In Vietnam, War Widow Exorcises
Three Decades of Guilt
Story by R. R. Keene
Dong Koi Mountain is one of those places where the Vietnamese do not go. It does not appear any more or less foreboding than neighboring Dong Ha Mountain and the surrounding hills of what was once Northern I Corps along the old Demilitarized Zone. But the local inhabitants believe it is haunted with the souls of unrested spirits.
As a rule, combat veterans don't put much stock in ghost stories, usually dismissing such tales as products of overactive imaginations. But every once in a while, someone will tell them of something unusual which causes them to pause. Dong Koi is one such exception.
Twenty-five years after Reserve Second Lieutenant James Glenn "Jimmy" Upchurch made the ultimate sacrifice on that mountain, his widow, Kathy, stood at its foot, trying unsuccessfully to find someone to take her up on a tour. With her was Ed Henry, a former Navy corpsman who served with the Seventh Marine Regiment at Chu Lai and who is now a guide in Vietnam with Military Historical Tours of Alexandria, Va.
"We're not allowed in that area," he told her gently, as they looked up the ridge line. "It's an ancestral area the Vietnamese don't want disturbed."
Their Vietnamese guide was less tactful. When he was asked to lead them up the ridge, his reply was a firm, "No!"
So Kathy Upchurch stood at the foot of Dong Koi Mountain and prayed.
She had been an 18-year-old college freshman when, on a blind date, she met her future husband, an upperclassman who played football for East Central State University in Ada, Okla. Jim Upchurch looked like the all-conference tackle that he was: broad-shouldered, full of youthful power and confidence and well-liked, but also a natural leader.
"He had a boy's sense of humor, direct with an easy laugh. And we became best friends," she said. "He was the first person in my life to ever fight for me," she added softly, without elaborating. He proposed on St. Valentine's Day 1965, and they were married in June. Not quite two years later, he received his draft notice on Jan. 28, 1967, his 23rd birthday.
"Things were such then that he could have gotten a waiver, but he wasn't going to do that. His grandfather had been a Marine," Kathy said. She remembers the day when Jim and his friend, Larry Beck, came through the door and said in unison, "Guess what we did today?" They had signed up for Officer Candidates School.
She still can hear that refrain today, tolling like a prophetic chorus, for both would die in Vietnam. "Guess what we did today?"
Second Lieutenant Upchurch's Basic School class graduated in August 1968, and by September he had orders to the Republic of South Vietnam. The couple had a month's leave to prepare for the separation.
Kathy had been teaching school while Jim attended OCS and TBS at Quantico, Va. They returned to his father's resort in Graford, Texas, where she would work as a back-up fry cook, cabin cleaner, boat worker and wait while Jim did his 13-month tour.
He wanted to make the Corps a career, and she really wanted to have children. But decisions on both would have to wait. After Vietnam, there would be plenty of time for such things.
http://www.mca-marines.org/Leatherneck/ghostsarch.htm
Sempers,
Roger
Three Decades of Guilt
Story by R. R. Keene
Dong Koi Mountain is one of those places where the Vietnamese do not go. It does not appear any more or less foreboding than neighboring Dong Ha Mountain and the surrounding hills of what was once Northern I Corps along the old Demilitarized Zone. But the local inhabitants believe it is haunted with the souls of unrested spirits.
As a rule, combat veterans don't put much stock in ghost stories, usually dismissing such tales as products of overactive imaginations. But every once in a while, someone will tell them of something unusual which causes them to pause. Dong Koi is one such exception.
Twenty-five years after Reserve Second Lieutenant James Glenn "Jimmy" Upchurch made the ultimate sacrifice on that mountain, his widow, Kathy, stood at its foot, trying unsuccessfully to find someone to take her up on a tour. With her was Ed Henry, a former Navy corpsman who served with the Seventh Marine Regiment at Chu Lai and who is now a guide in Vietnam with Military Historical Tours of Alexandria, Va.
"We're not allowed in that area," he told her gently, as they looked up the ridge line. "It's an ancestral area the Vietnamese don't want disturbed."
Their Vietnamese guide was less tactful. When he was asked to lead them up the ridge, his reply was a firm, "No!"
So Kathy Upchurch stood at the foot of Dong Koi Mountain and prayed.
She had been an 18-year-old college freshman when, on a blind date, she met her future husband, an upperclassman who played football for East Central State University in Ada, Okla. Jim Upchurch looked like the all-conference tackle that he was: broad-shouldered, full of youthful power and confidence and well-liked, but also a natural leader.
"He had a boy's sense of humor, direct with an easy laugh. And we became best friends," she said. "He was the first person in my life to ever fight for me," she added softly, without elaborating. He proposed on St. Valentine's Day 1965, and they were married in June. Not quite two years later, he received his draft notice on Jan. 28, 1967, his 23rd birthday.
"Things were such then that he could have gotten a waiver, but he wasn't going to do that. His grandfather had been a Marine," Kathy said. She remembers the day when Jim and his friend, Larry Beck, came through the door and said in unison, "Guess what we did today?" They had signed up for Officer Candidates School.
She still can hear that refrain today, tolling like a prophetic chorus, for both would die in Vietnam. "Guess what we did today?"
Second Lieutenant Upchurch's Basic School class graduated in August 1968, and by September he had orders to the Republic of South Vietnam. The couple had a month's leave to prepare for the separation.
Kathy had been teaching school while Jim attended OCS and TBS at Quantico, Va. They returned to his father's resort in Graford, Texas, where she would work as a back-up fry cook, cabin cleaner, boat worker and wait while Jim did his 13-month tour.
He wanted to make the Corps a career, and she really wanted to have children. But decisions on both would have to wait. After Vietnam, there would be plenty of time for such things.
http://www.mca-marines.org/Leatherneck/ghostsarch.htm
Sempers,
Roger