thedrifter
02-05-08, 09:15 AM
02/05/2008
Living history: Four generations of veterans gather to share stories and support Fallen Heroes Project
By:Cathy Herholdt
There are some things those who have braved the battlefields of war share only with each other. No one else except another veteran could set aside their opinions, political views and personal feelings to just listen. No one else could understand.
Those were the obvious sentiments as personal stories of horrific combat, hard-fought victories and devastating loss of life, were told during an informal gathering of five veterans from four different wars at the Edmonds home of Vietnam veteran and Fallen Heroes Project founder Mike Reagan last month. The five Marines - some who had not met until that day - considered each other "brothers" for life and spoke with palpable ease and respect as they shared an afternoon of fellowship and camaraderie.
They gathered to view a recent sketch created by Reagan, an artist who has drawn portraits of nearly 1,000 soldiers who died in Iraq, then given the portraits to the families of the soldiers at no cost. The sketch - not part of the Fallen Heroes Project - was a perfect depiction of the most well-known war photograph in history - the flag raising at Iwo Jima during World War II.
Eighty-two-year-old John Desjarlais was quiet, simply nodding his head, when the sketch was unveiled and set before him on the coffee table. His lip quivered with emotion as he began to tell the story of that 36-day battle which saw 25,851 American casualties. Desjarlais was 17 years old when he set foot on Iwo Jima. He was among the first wave of Marines to arrive and one of the very, very few to make it off the island alive. His platoon landed with 220 members, received 100 replacements, and walked off with 15.
Tears flowed freely from all eyes in the room as Desjarlais recounted the details of his experience.
Reagan was commissioned to draw the picture by friend and Fallen Heroes supporter Lansing Ross, who was honored to have Desjarlais sign the drawing, and like all present that day, even more honored to hear his story firsthand.
Though the flag raising atop Mt. Suribachi was symbolic of the eventual victory U.S. troops fought and died for, Desjarlais was not personally able to witness the historic moment.
"I was so occupied trying to stay alive," he said. He survived unbearable temperatures, little food, and assaults from the "best of the best" Japanese soldiers who fought from underground. He slept only when his body insisted. "You would all of a sudden wake up, not realizing you were asleep. You'd know you weren't dead because you woke up," he said.
He recalled one unbelievable moment when, in the midst of the intense battle, a Salvation Army volunteer approached him and offered him a donut. "I just could not believe it," he said, laughing through his tears. "Hell was there. It would not leave. On Iwo, Hell never left. And this guy says, 'You want a donut?' This can't be real!'"
The hardest part even to recall was not what he endured on that island, but leaving it, knowing there were others being left to fight. "We're brothers - you never let your brother down in the corps. You are always wondering what he is thinking about you. You take care of your fellow Marine.
"When I walked off Iwo, I knew I was saying goodbye. When I got back to Maui, I read that memo, 'The following Marines will see no more combat.' I could not leave my division. I could not leave those tents. I could not go to barracks and eat off plates," he said.
But he did leave - not by choice - and he returned to the states and met his bride, to whom he's been married nearly 60 years. And to be a living memorial of the battle of Iwo Jima.
"My best friend Boyce gave his left arm," said Desjarlais, directing the focus to another veteran in the room.
Boyce Clark fought in the Korean War from 1950 to 1951, and indeed, lost his left arm in battle. Clark thought he was safe, having completed his duty in 1948 and being in the Reserves in 1950, but within 48 hours of his wife telling him about the war, he was on his way to Camp Pendleton, and then Korea.
"We arrived in December," recalled Clark. "I had trained in artillery, but when we got there, they were so depleted, they went down the ranks ... and I ended up with the 7th Marines ... In '51 they started putting more pressure on the North Koreans. The South Koreans were not the best fighters. They left our fighting completely exposed and they overcame us ... but in April, we had them on the run. We got to about the 38th parallel. It was there that I got hit with the communist mortar fire on the day we were supposed to be relieved by the 5th Marines, early in the morning. They killed about six that day, and that's when I got wounded."
Clark endured several surgeries and was hospitalized for months. But this being his second time wounded, he too had seen the last of battle.
"These guys are heroes in the truest sense," said Reagan of his guests that day. "I am awed by them."
The youngest Marines present were also clearly awed by the older men in their midst. Mansoo Masga, 25, joined the Marines on Sept. 11, 2001 and has served three tours in Kuwait and Iraq since 2003. Jonathan Coffey, 26, also served in Kuwait and now helps arrange funerals for Washington state's fallen heroes.
Masga said he wished he'd been able to hear these stories before going into war, instead of the motivational stories he and others heard. "They were just reading stories. If we'd heard experiences (like these), it would have been a lot more powerful for us being there - to be able to go out there and do our thing," he said.
Jonathan Coffey has become like a son to the Gold Star families (those who have lost a family member in the war) of Washington, taking great care and personally getting to know each family of the soldier who's funeral he's helping with. He recalls each Marine with detail and emotion, as if each were his brother.
Reagan remembers receiving a call from Coffey just before the young soldier left for the Middle East. "He says, 'Tell me how to stay alive in the war,'" said Reagan, who offered him a few tips.
Reagan should know. He survived some of the fiercest fighting along the DMZ (demilitarized zone) in Vietnam during 1967 and 1968. He ran patrols along the firebases of the DMZ, keeping the North Vietnamese out of South Vietnam. When he wasn't running patrols, "I spent my time in a hole - we lived underground," he said. "The experiences of Vietnam were surreal. You get into a firefight and people are dying all over the place, and you go someplace else," he explained somberly.
Reagan credits a brave helicopter pilot for his rescue out of the battlefield on the day he was scheduled to go home. "The way it worked is that you got pulled out of your front line duty ... you got taken back to a place called Freedom Hill. A lot of us had our orders, but we were under fire by snipers and they couldn't get us in or out by helicopter. I remember sitting in the hole, thinking to myself, boy, I'd hate to die tomorrow because today is the day I'm supposed to get out of here. This just doesn't seem right," he said.
But a Chinook helicopter came in and the pilot agreed to hover just long enough for Reagan and nine others to jump on board without getting shot. Reagan was the last person to be thrown into the helicopter. "I was laying there on the floor, watching the ground disappear, and bullets were ricocheting. The pilot took us straight up until the bullets stopped flying," said Reagan.
Freedom Hill was also under fire, so Reagan was put into a bunker, then flown to Okanawa, San Diego and eventually Seattle, arriving in the same muddy clothes he had been wearing in the DMZ.
Like many Vietnam veterans, Reagan suffered emotionally because of his experience, but his intense commitment to create portraits of each one of the soldiers who has died in Iraq has changed him for the better, he said. "When I started this project three and a half years ago, I found my soul. It had been buried for a long time."
All five veterans spent time looking at the posters of all the portraits Reagan has drawn to date and hearing stories of how they have helped each family endure their loss, say goodbye, and enjoy a permanent memory of their loved one.
"I can't even tell you how proud I am that you're here," said Reagan to his guests. "What we tried to do when we did our stuff was be as brave as you. The Marine Corps is a family. Anyone who has stepped in the yellow footprints is a brother. That's why we're all here.
"We wish we could go back and bring some of those people home who didn't come home," said Reagan. "With this project, what we're trying to do is tell these people there's a group of people who care ...The rest of my life is committed to doing these portraits."
For more information on the Fallen Heroes Project, please visit www.fallenheroesproject.org.
Ellie
Living history: Four generations of veterans gather to share stories and support Fallen Heroes Project
By:Cathy Herholdt
There are some things those who have braved the battlefields of war share only with each other. No one else except another veteran could set aside their opinions, political views and personal feelings to just listen. No one else could understand.
Those were the obvious sentiments as personal stories of horrific combat, hard-fought victories and devastating loss of life, were told during an informal gathering of five veterans from four different wars at the Edmonds home of Vietnam veteran and Fallen Heroes Project founder Mike Reagan last month. The five Marines - some who had not met until that day - considered each other "brothers" for life and spoke with palpable ease and respect as they shared an afternoon of fellowship and camaraderie.
They gathered to view a recent sketch created by Reagan, an artist who has drawn portraits of nearly 1,000 soldiers who died in Iraq, then given the portraits to the families of the soldiers at no cost. The sketch - not part of the Fallen Heroes Project - was a perfect depiction of the most well-known war photograph in history - the flag raising at Iwo Jima during World War II.
Eighty-two-year-old John Desjarlais was quiet, simply nodding his head, when the sketch was unveiled and set before him on the coffee table. His lip quivered with emotion as he began to tell the story of that 36-day battle which saw 25,851 American casualties. Desjarlais was 17 years old when he set foot on Iwo Jima. He was among the first wave of Marines to arrive and one of the very, very few to make it off the island alive. His platoon landed with 220 members, received 100 replacements, and walked off with 15.
Tears flowed freely from all eyes in the room as Desjarlais recounted the details of his experience.
Reagan was commissioned to draw the picture by friend and Fallen Heroes supporter Lansing Ross, who was honored to have Desjarlais sign the drawing, and like all present that day, even more honored to hear his story firsthand.
Though the flag raising atop Mt. Suribachi was symbolic of the eventual victory U.S. troops fought and died for, Desjarlais was not personally able to witness the historic moment.
"I was so occupied trying to stay alive," he said. He survived unbearable temperatures, little food, and assaults from the "best of the best" Japanese soldiers who fought from underground. He slept only when his body insisted. "You would all of a sudden wake up, not realizing you were asleep. You'd know you weren't dead because you woke up," he said.
He recalled one unbelievable moment when, in the midst of the intense battle, a Salvation Army volunteer approached him and offered him a donut. "I just could not believe it," he said, laughing through his tears. "Hell was there. It would not leave. On Iwo, Hell never left. And this guy says, 'You want a donut?' This can't be real!'"
The hardest part even to recall was not what he endured on that island, but leaving it, knowing there were others being left to fight. "We're brothers - you never let your brother down in the corps. You are always wondering what he is thinking about you. You take care of your fellow Marine.
"When I walked off Iwo, I knew I was saying goodbye. When I got back to Maui, I read that memo, 'The following Marines will see no more combat.' I could not leave my division. I could not leave those tents. I could not go to barracks and eat off plates," he said.
But he did leave - not by choice - and he returned to the states and met his bride, to whom he's been married nearly 60 years. And to be a living memorial of the battle of Iwo Jima.
"My best friend Boyce gave his left arm," said Desjarlais, directing the focus to another veteran in the room.
Boyce Clark fought in the Korean War from 1950 to 1951, and indeed, lost his left arm in battle. Clark thought he was safe, having completed his duty in 1948 and being in the Reserves in 1950, but within 48 hours of his wife telling him about the war, he was on his way to Camp Pendleton, and then Korea.
"We arrived in December," recalled Clark. "I had trained in artillery, but when we got there, they were so depleted, they went down the ranks ... and I ended up with the 7th Marines ... In '51 they started putting more pressure on the North Koreans. The South Koreans were not the best fighters. They left our fighting completely exposed and they overcame us ... but in April, we had them on the run. We got to about the 38th parallel. It was there that I got hit with the communist mortar fire on the day we were supposed to be relieved by the 5th Marines, early in the morning. They killed about six that day, and that's when I got wounded."
Clark endured several surgeries and was hospitalized for months. But this being his second time wounded, he too had seen the last of battle.
"These guys are heroes in the truest sense," said Reagan of his guests that day. "I am awed by them."
The youngest Marines present were also clearly awed by the older men in their midst. Mansoo Masga, 25, joined the Marines on Sept. 11, 2001 and has served three tours in Kuwait and Iraq since 2003. Jonathan Coffey, 26, also served in Kuwait and now helps arrange funerals for Washington state's fallen heroes.
Masga said he wished he'd been able to hear these stories before going into war, instead of the motivational stories he and others heard. "They were just reading stories. If we'd heard experiences (like these), it would have been a lot more powerful for us being there - to be able to go out there and do our thing," he said.
Jonathan Coffey has become like a son to the Gold Star families (those who have lost a family member in the war) of Washington, taking great care and personally getting to know each family of the soldier who's funeral he's helping with. He recalls each Marine with detail and emotion, as if each were his brother.
Reagan remembers receiving a call from Coffey just before the young soldier left for the Middle East. "He says, 'Tell me how to stay alive in the war,'" said Reagan, who offered him a few tips.
Reagan should know. He survived some of the fiercest fighting along the DMZ (demilitarized zone) in Vietnam during 1967 and 1968. He ran patrols along the firebases of the DMZ, keeping the North Vietnamese out of South Vietnam. When he wasn't running patrols, "I spent my time in a hole - we lived underground," he said. "The experiences of Vietnam were surreal. You get into a firefight and people are dying all over the place, and you go someplace else," he explained somberly.
Reagan credits a brave helicopter pilot for his rescue out of the battlefield on the day he was scheduled to go home. "The way it worked is that you got pulled out of your front line duty ... you got taken back to a place called Freedom Hill. A lot of us had our orders, but we were under fire by snipers and they couldn't get us in or out by helicopter. I remember sitting in the hole, thinking to myself, boy, I'd hate to die tomorrow because today is the day I'm supposed to get out of here. This just doesn't seem right," he said.
But a Chinook helicopter came in and the pilot agreed to hover just long enough for Reagan and nine others to jump on board without getting shot. Reagan was the last person to be thrown into the helicopter. "I was laying there on the floor, watching the ground disappear, and bullets were ricocheting. The pilot took us straight up until the bullets stopped flying," said Reagan.
Freedom Hill was also under fire, so Reagan was put into a bunker, then flown to Okanawa, San Diego and eventually Seattle, arriving in the same muddy clothes he had been wearing in the DMZ.
Like many Vietnam veterans, Reagan suffered emotionally because of his experience, but his intense commitment to create portraits of each one of the soldiers who has died in Iraq has changed him for the better, he said. "When I started this project three and a half years ago, I found my soul. It had been buried for a long time."
All five veterans spent time looking at the posters of all the portraits Reagan has drawn to date and hearing stories of how they have helped each family endure their loss, say goodbye, and enjoy a permanent memory of their loved one.
"I can't even tell you how proud I am that you're here," said Reagan to his guests. "What we tried to do when we did our stuff was be as brave as you. The Marine Corps is a family. Anyone who has stepped in the yellow footprints is a brother. That's why we're all here.
"We wish we could go back and bring some of those people home who didn't come home," said Reagan. "With this project, what we're trying to do is tell these people there's a group of people who care ...The rest of my life is committed to doing these portraits."
For more information on the Fallen Heroes Project, please visit www.fallenheroesproject.org.
Ellie