thedrifter
03-02-08, 08:20 AM
Recognition of heroism
Law change allows for belated medal
By Steve Liewer
UNION-TRIBUNE STAFF WRITER
March 1, 2008
SCRIPPS RANCH – Skimming above the treetops of Vietnam's central highlands in an OH-6A helicopter, Army Spc. 5 John Fogle warily eyed the jungle below.
As the chopper passed over a little canyon southwest of Hue on that steamy July day in 1969, Fogle, the crew chief and door gunner, spotted a soldier at the edge of an enemy camp. He swung out the window on his seat harness while squeezing the trigger of his machine gun straight downward.
Then pain like a hot poker shot through his right leg and, seconds later, his right elbow as three bullets pierced his flesh. Blood spurted into his eyes from a severed artery in his thigh, but he still managed to shift the gun to his left hand and kept firing while the helicopter veered away.
“I had so much blood in my face, I couldn't see,” said Fogle, now 61, as he relaxed at his home in Scripps Ranch. “I was just saying my prayers, trying not to go into shock.”
The next day, the other two men aboard his helicopter visited him in the hospital. The pilot, Lt. Alan Szpila, said Fogle's suppressive fire surely saved the crew's lives. He pledged to nominate Fogle for a valor award.
Somehow, that never happened.
But nearly four decades later, Fogle is wearing the Air Medal that family and friends have long told him he deserves. The medal, the second-highest distinction for aviators, is awarded for “meritorious achievement in aerial flight.” Fogle's includes a “V” device, signifying valor in combat.
Things might never have turned out this way but for a 1996 change in federal law. The revision loosened statutes of limitations for award applications for certain groups of veterans, including all Vietnam War vets.
It took Fogle several years to track down the men who could attest to what happened the day he nearly died. Add to that the 2½ years it took to slog through the Pentagon bureaucracy with the help of an aide to Rep. Duncan Hunter, R-Alpine.
Hunter's office notified Fogle about the medal in a letter that arrived Tuesday.
“When I opened it, I was so relieved. Finally! I was very happy,” said Fogle, a retired electrical engineer.
He grew up in Ottawa, Kan., the youngest of five sons. Fogle had worked as an airline mechanic for three months when his draft notice arrived in the mail in August 1967.
He enlisted in an Army program to become a helicopter crew chief. Fogle had been assigned to an air-cavalry squadron for only a few weeks when his OH-6A aircraft, escorted by a Cobra attack helicopter, took off to inspect B-52 bomb craters on July 25, 1969.
The crews had inspected one crater when they surprised the enemy troops in the canyon.
“We were a sitting duck up there,” Fogle recalled.
He said the exchange of gunfire probably lasted no more than 15 seconds. The flight to the nearest military hospital took 15 minutes, but “it seemed like forever” to Fogle, who was fighting for his life.
His commander, Lt. Col. Bill Zierdt, inspected the bullet-riddled OH-6A the next day.
“I've never seen so damn much blood in one little-bitty helo,” said Zierdt, now 71 and living in Fond du Lac, Wis.
After spending 18 months in a military hospital in Denver, Fogle decided he wanted a better life.
So he used his GI Bill college benefits to study engineering, then worked for more than three decades for defense contractors in Southern California until his retirement last year.
Fogle once told his father-in-law, a retired Navy officer, the story behind the wound that left him with a permanent limp.
“You should have gotten a medal,” his father-in-law said.
The idea nagged at Fogle. He spent a year tracking down Zierdt and met him again in person at a military reunion. The officer had left Fogle's unit shortly after the incident near Hue. He felt bad about not being around to shepherd the award nomination through the military bureaucracy.
Together they tracked down Szpila. Fogle gathered statements from them and a third witness, a nomination form, personnel records and a detailed description of the mission. He submitted them to the Army a year ago with the help of Hunter aide Cal Willahan.
On Wednesday, Fogle he picked up the medal package at Hunter's office in El Cajon. There was little ceremony, but Willahan shook his hand.
That night, Fogle and his wife celebrated by having dinner at a steakhouse. He plans to display the medal alongside his Purple Heart.
“I'm very pleased that the right thing has been done,” Zierdt said. “It's nice to know that some good came out of this horrible incident.”
Steve Liewer: (619) 498-6632; steve.liewer@uniontrib.com
Ellie
Law change allows for belated medal
By Steve Liewer
UNION-TRIBUNE STAFF WRITER
March 1, 2008
SCRIPPS RANCH – Skimming above the treetops of Vietnam's central highlands in an OH-6A helicopter, Army Spc. 5 John Fogle warily eyed the jungle below.
As the chopper passed over a little canyon southwest of Hue on that steamy July day in 1969, Fogle, the crew chief and door gunner, spotted a soldier at the edge of an enemy camp. He swung out the window on his seat harness while squeezing the trigger of his machine gun straight downward.
Then pain like a hot poker shot through his right leg and, seconds later, his right elbow as three bullets pierced his flesh. Blood spurted into his eyes from a severed artery in his thigh, but he still managed to shift the gun to his left hand and kept firing while the helicopter veered away.
“I had so much blood in my face, I couldn't see,” said Fogle, now 61, as he relaxed at his home in Scripps Ranch. “I was just saying my prayers, trying not to go into shock.”
The next day, the other two men aboard his helicopter visited him in the hospital. The pilot, Lt. Alan Szpila, said Fogle's suppressive fire surely saved the crew's lives. He pledged to nominate Fogle for a valor award.
Somehow, that never happened.
But nearly four decades later, Fogle is wearing the Air Medal that family and friends have long told him he deserves. The medal, the second-highest distinction for aviators, is awarded for “meritorious achievement in aerial flight.” Fogle's includes a “V” device, signifying valor in combat.
Things might never have turned out this way but for a 1996 change in federal law. The revision loosened statutes of limitations for award applications for certain groups of veterans, including all Vietnam War vets.
It took Fogle several years to track down the men who could attest to what happened the day he nearly died. Add to that the 2½ years it took to slog through the Pentagon bureaucracy with the help of an aide to Rep. Duncan Hunter, R-Alpine.
Hunter's office notified Fogle about the medal in a letter that arrived Tuesday.
“When I opened it, I was so relieved. Finally! I was very happy,” said Fogle, a retired electrical engineer.
He grew up in Ottawa, Kan., the youngest of five sons. Fogle had worked as an airline mechanic for three months when his draft notice arrived in the mail in August 1967.
He enlisted in an Army program to become a helicopter crew chief. Fogle had been assigned to an air-cavalry squadron for only a few weeks when his OH-6A aircraft, escorted by a Cobra attack helicopter, took off to inspect B-52 bomb craters on July 25, 1969.
The crews had inspected one crater when they surprised the enemy troops in the canyon.
“We were a sitting duck up there,” Fogle recalled.
He said the exchange of gunfire probably lasted no more than 15 seconds. The flight to the nearest military hospital took 15 minutes, but “it seemed like forever” to Fogle, who was fighting for his life.
His commander, Lt. Col. Bill Zierdt, inspected the bullet-riddled OH-6A the next day.
“I've never seen so damn much blood in one little-bitty helo,” said Zierdt, now 71 and living in Fond du Lac, Wis.
After spending 18 months in a military hospital in Denver, Fogle decided he wanted a better life.
So he used his GI Bill college benefits to study engineering, then worked for more than three decades for defense contractors in Southern California until his retirement last year.
Fogle once told his father-in-law, a retired Navy officer, the story behind the wound that left him with a permanent limp.
“You should have gotten a medal,” his father-in-law said.
The idea nagged at Fogle. He spent a year tracking down Zierdt and met him again in person at a military reunion. The officer had left Fogle's unit shortly after the incident near Hue. He felt bad about not being around to shepherd the award nomination through the military bureaucracy.
Together they tracked down Szpila. Fogle gathered statements from them and a third witness, a nomination form, personnel records and a detailed description of the mission. He submitted them to the Army a year ago with the help of Hunter aide Cal Willahan.
On Wednesday, Fogle he picked up the medal package at Hunter's office in El Cajon. There was little ceremony, but Willahan shook his hand.
That night, Fogle and his wife celebrated by having dinner at a steakhouse. He plans to display the medal alongside his Purple Heart.
“I'm very pleased that the right thing has been done,” Zierdt said. “It's nice to know that some good came out of this horrible incident.”
Steve Liewer: (619) 498-6632; steve.liewer@uniontrib.com
Ellie