thedrifter
07-21-09, 07:10 AM
A long delayed honor
By: JOHN MULLANE
The Intelligencer
After Mass was celebrated at the Columbus Country Club in Bensalem, the crowd continued to gather.
"Stars and Stripes Forever" came from a large black loudspeaker.
Under a shade tree beside a weathered picnic table, George Delia, 60, was nervous. He chuckled uneasily.
"I'm kind of a wreck about all this," he said, motioning to the clubhouse where two Marines stood on a wide deck.
Forty years after he engaged the enemy in a bitter battle in South Vietnam, Delia was awarded a Bronze Star.
It was the winter of 1969, and the Vietcong were slipping over the border into the rain swept mountains of Laos, using jungle paths to ship weapons and ammo. The Marines were sent to stop them. More than 100 died in Operation Dewey Canyon, which lasted six weeks.
It was the last major Marine offensive in the war.
"I don't really talk about it," said Delia, a former steelworker who retired from the Boilermakers Union. "I will say this. The Vietnam guys were not happily welcomed home. I came through El Toro [California] and was greeted by the, you know, the Jane Fonda people. They called us 'baby killers.' "
It is an indelible memory.
Maybe, he said, the Bronze Star ceremony will help other Vietnam veterans know that whatever service they gave, it is not forgotten, and it is appreciated.
Anyway, he didn't think he did anything special, despite receiving three Purple Hearts during two tours of duty.
Delia grew up in Bensalem, the son of a World War II veteran. He was 17 when he enlisted in 1967. He always wanted to try military service, he said.Two years later, he was a Marine infantryman on patrol during Operation Dewey Canyon. It was Feb. 22, 1969.
"We were out looking for [the enemy]," he said. "Alpha Company went down the mountain and got ambushed. There were 11 killed and 67 wounded. Somebody had to go down and get them, and that was me and three other guys."
He has lost track of how many trips he made down the mountain, two, maybe three times. He does not give details of the fighting he encountered.
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The Bronze Star citation fills in some blanks.
He was under heavy enemy fire. He lobbed grenades and fired his M-16 as he struggled to retrieve the dead and wounded.
"We didn't leave anybody behind," he said. "To be perfectly honest, I don't believe I did anything that I wasn't trained to do."
He came home in 1971 to taunts and spitting from the antiwar crowd.
His medals did not seem important as he quietly got on with his life, marrying, raising seven children, riding his Harley-Davidson.
"I'll tell you about George - if you're ever in trouble, he's the guy you want with you. He always thinks about you and your safety, not himself," said Tom "Butch" Bosack, a friend who worked with Delia refurbishing industrial equipment in the Boilermakers Union.
Wife Maggie said her husband is haunted by his wartime experiences, and still tosses and turns in his sleep.
"Even over the last two weeks as we planned this, I could not get him to talk about it. He doesn't talk about what happened because he feels he gave less than those men who died on that mountain," she said.
The ceremony commenced. In sunshine and cool breezes, Delia stood on the club's wide, stage-like deck. The crowd gathered on the lawn before him. State Sen. Tommy Tomlinson, who has known Delia since 1971, presented congratulations from the Pennsylvania Senate.
Marine Capt. Matthew Clinger read a citation and when he pinned the Bronze Star on Delia's shirt, the crowd bust into cheers, whistles and long applause.
Delia thanked them, and placed his hand over his heart and joined them in singing "God Bless America."
For a half-hour after, friends and family approached, embraced him and shook his hand, kissed him and said "thank you."
J.D. Mullane can be reached at 215-949-5745 or jmullane@phillyBurbs.com. He blogs at phillyBurbs.com.
Ellie
By: JOHN MULLANE
The Intelligencer
After Mass was celebrated at the Columbus Country Club in Bensalem, the crowd continued to gather.
"Stars and Stripes Forever" came from a large black loudspeaker.
Under a shade tree beside a weathered picnic table, George Delia, 60, was nervous. He chuckled uneasily.
"I'm kind of a wreck about all this," he said, motioning to the clubhouse where two Marines stood on a wide deck.
Forty years after he engaged the enemy in a bitter battle in South Vietnam, Delia was awarded a Bronze Star.
It was the winter of 1969, and the Vietcong were slipping over the border into the rain swept mountains of Laos, using jungle paths to ship weapons and ammo. The Marines were sent to stop them. More than 100 died in Operation Dewey Canyon, which lasted six weeks.
It was the last major Marine offensive in the war.
"I don't really talk about it," said Delia, a former steelworker who retired from the Boilermakers Union. "I will say this. The Vietnam guys were not happily welcomed home. I came through El Toro [California] and was greeted by the, you know, the Jane Fonda people. They called us 'baby killers.' "
It is an indelible memory.
Maybe, he said, the Bronze Star ceremony will help other Vietnam veterans know that whatever service they gave, it is not forgotten, and it is appreciated.
Anyway, he didn't think he did anything special, despite receiving three Purple Hearts during two tours of duty.
Delia grew up in Bensalem, the son of a World War II veteran. He was 17 when he enlisted in 1967. He always wanted to try military service, he said.Two years later, he was a Marine infantryman on patrol during Operation Dewey Canyon. It was Feb. 22, 1969.
"We were out looking for [the enemy]," he said. "Alpha Company went down the mountain and got ambushed. There were 11 killed and 67 wounded. Somebody had to go down and get them, and that was me and three other guys."
He has lost track of how many trips he made down the mountain, two, maybe three times. He does not give details of the fighting he encountered.
Advertisement
The Bronze Star citation fills in some blanks.
He was under heavy enemy fire. He lobbed grenades and fired his M-16 as he struggled to retrieve the dead and wounded.
"We didn't leave anybody behind," he said. "To be perfectly honest, I don't believe I did anything that I wasn't trained to do."
He came home in 1971 to taunts and spitting from the antiwar crowd.
His medals did not seem important as he quietly got on with his life, marrying, raising seven children, riding his Harley-Davidson.
"I'll tell you about George - if you're ever in trouble, he's the guy you want with you. He always thinks about you and your safety, not himself," said Tom "Butch" Bosack, a friend who worked with Delia refurbishing industrial equipment in the Boilermakers Union.
Wife Maggie said her husband is haunted by his wartime experiences, and still tosses and turns in his sleep.
"Even over the last two weeks as we planned this, I could not get him to talk about it. He doesn't talk about what happened because he feels he gave less than those men who died on that mountain," she said.
The ceremony commenced. In sunshine and cool breezes, Delia stood on the club's wide, stage-like deck. The crowd gathered on the lawn before him. State Sen. Tommy Tomlinson, who has known Delia since 1971, presented congratulations from the Pennsylvania Senate.
Marine Capt. Matthew Clinger read a citation and when he pinned the Bronze Star on Delia's shirt, the crowd bust into cheers, whistles and long applause.
Delia thanked them, and placed his hand over his heart and joined them in singing "God Bless America."
For a half-hour after, friends and family approached, embraced him and shook his hand, kissed him and said "thank you."
J.D. Mullane can be reached at 215-949-5745 or jmullane@phillyBurbs.com. He blogs at phillyBurbs.com.
Ellie