Click here to view a related post entitled PATRIOTS AND HEROES, information about the sons and daughters of our classmates, as well as others who are currently serving. *********************************************
Click HERE to see how Wally Sisk used some excerpts from this page of our blog to enlighten the current generation of Mibyites on our thoughts about this topic. He published them in the Veteran's Day section of the "Milby Blue and Gold" newspaper. Click here to see the actual Milby Blue & Gold Newspaper online.
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See Linda Little Strickland's crossover piece, a Veteran's Day/Christmas story, submitted November 30, 2008. It's in a new post that can be seen by clicking here. ********************************************* "MY DADDY IS DEAD”
Submitted by Doris Lentz Simmons, November 12, 2008 My Dad was in the Army Air Corps and trained at Ellington Field. I remember riding the bus out to see him and that he always came home with lots of candy from the Commissary. When he was transferred to Japan as part of the occupation troops following the end of World War II, he asked my grandparents to buy us a house so we wouldn’t need to live in Army housing while he was gone. Thankfully, my grandparents were in the position to do just that and we moved into our house on Linden Street in Pecan Park. This was a good thing. There was even talk of us joining him in Japan. Unfortunately, however, he was killed on May 29, 1947 when his plane crashed into the side of a mountain. This was a shock from which my mother never recovered. I remember the phone call ---- no soldiers at the front door --- nothing gentle. A reporter on the phone gave her the news. I can still hear her scream and see her throwing the phone. “My Daddy is dead” was my comment to another reporter that came to our house. The article stated that “the oldest” child seemed to know what happened. Certainly nothing was ever the same. Because of the area where his plane crashed and the number of passengers, it took the Army all summer before his remains were returned to the States. He was finally buried at Forrest Park Lawndale on November 11, 1947. Everyone says that my Mother loved my Dad so much that she was never the same. The details of my life after that are like “the 6 o’clock” news. But I must say that I was saved by my belief in God and knowing He loved me. When I was little, and still today, when I see the moon at the point it looks like a silver sliver at the bottom of the circle, it looks like a desk to me. And if you look hard, you can see the slightest shadow of a circle which looks as if you can see right into Heaven. So, I felt like God sat at that desk and marked “who was naughty and who was nice” and that my Dad was with him --- watching! Because of that --- I tried always to be good, but especially good during that time. Our lives are so incredibly shaped by so many things. But I do find it ironic now that, May 29th is often Memorial Day and November 11th is Veteran’s Day. These are very important days to many Americans, but especially for me. Hug your Soldier if you have one!! Doris ********************************************* I find it hard to reconcile my mind, in which I am an eternal youth, with my reputation in the Kingwood neighborhood where we have lived for 24 years. Last night was Halloween. As I passed out candy to young neighborhood kids in their myriad costume themes, I heard one of the children say to his parent as he walked away down our sidewalk, “That is where the nice old man lives!” The fact is that our Milby Class of 1960 classmates of nice old men and ladies have lived through some dynamic and sometimes tumultuous history of our country. We were all born just before or during World War II so that conflict was very much a part of our growing up days. We all had family who fought and some who died in “The War”. I was talking to one of my young adult neighbors recently and referred to something that happened during “The War”. He replied saying something about the war in Viet Nam. I said to him that “The War”, in my lexicon refers to World War I or World War II. He had no idea of my point of reference since his grandfather had served in Viet Nam. World War II, in his mind, was as distant an event as World War I had been to our generation. One of the most dramatic differences in those two wars is the way our veterans were received on returning from serving gallantly in the duty of their country. Many of our classmates who fought in Viet Nam have stories of being either disregarded or outright disrespected by many Americans as they returned stateside. There were no homecoming parades or welcoming crowds at the airports; no accolades or public semblance of gratitude for their sacrifices. When members of my immediate family returned from “The War” we had family get-togethers and celebrations. People stopped them on the street and shook their hand or saluted them, in gratitude. One of my earliest memories of “The War” is when it was drawing to a close in the early summer of 1945. My mother’s family lived in Arkansas and we made frequent driving trips for long weekends or vacations to Stamps, Arkansas. In those days the 300 miles trip took nearly 10 hours, going up State Highway 59 (there was no such thing as am Eastex Freeway). We often left for Arkansas after my father got off work so we drove deep into the night up that old two lane road. When we crossed the San Jacinto River Bridge, that was the last vestige of civilization. We drove through every town, stopping at every traffic light and stop sign. My sister and I would sleep in the back seat through most of the trip. Citizens stood alongside the station with their hands over their hearts in deep respect. They were welcoming home brave neighbors, family members or friends who had given their all for God and Country. The scene was burned into my mind and I will never forget the solemn, mournful, patriotic and prideful atmosphere of all of those who witnessed that night’s event. It was the first time I ever saw my father cry.
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"I WILL SUPPORT AND DEFEND..." Submitted by Charles Simmons, November 1, 2008 It reads like a roster taken out of the yearbook. Names like Gene Hartenstiner, Dale Mills, Mark Cleaves, Barry Owens, John Echoff, Donald Hannsz, Travis Gee, Tex Campbell, Philip DeMarco, Larry Bass, Charles Simmons and many others who took the oath “that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.” All of these names are courtesy of John Echoff. Those were difficult days for all of us in the sixties. Not much different than they are today. But the stark reality of military service hung over every young man’s life shaping and molding his destiny like never before. The choices were stay in school and put the draft off until a later day, work in a draft-deferred job, do a hurry-up marriage or volunteer. That was about it for the able-bodied. To a teenager or a young person in their early twenties, a stint in the service of two to six years seemed like a lifetime or at least a period of wasted years. The years were troubling. Many simply dropped out of life and gave up. Others, like those mentioned above, saw it as an opportunity to serve and accept responsibility for our lives perhaps for the first time. I was naïve! As a young, know-it-all college grad, I showed up at Aviation Officer’s Training school thinking they would be glad to see me! Man, was I ever in for a dose of reality. The next morning, I really thought I had made a dreadful mistake! But then I realized I was in this with a bunch of great guys who were going to make it through this no matter what. We learned discipline, order, respect, dedication and pride in our country that none of us had before. We learned self-confidence and love for our buddies welding ourselves into a fighting machine that no one could defeat. We learned to walk straight, proud and upright into the face of impossible situations. Those of us who did this have never regretted a day of it. Given half a chance, we’ll bore you with our stories from now to kingdom come! There were also some other life changing events in the military, such as meeting the girl I married. God bless the men and women of Milby class of 1960 who served our country in time of war. I respect every one of them! Charles Simmons *********************************************I WISH I COULD HAVE SERVED Submitted by Clyde "Sonny" Jones, November 4, 2008 I've thought through different directions concerning what I might have to say regarding this particular Veterans Day. You know, it's pretty obvious that our nation (like the rest of the world) is in a mess. We've never been in a position where we had to actually worry about the outcome of an election, a war, unspeakable violence directed at total strangers from terrorists, hatred that really makes no sense, but is extremely important to a cause that is so totally wrong and without any merit. We as Americans have probably failed to realize the degree of jealousy the rest of the world has had towards us for being the most "together" nation on the planet. Seriously, what other country has been able to compete with our domination? We have, over the years, proven to be what every other nation wishes they were. With all our faults and divisions, we still are the best people to ever try to demonstrate what God intended a nation to be. I really try to understand how religious differences can put people at such extreme odds, but I don't think that is within my understanding. I do know this. When I was 3A in the draft for Viet Nam, I was a college student with a pregnant wife, and did not want to go defend my country in a war that was so confusing to everyone except those who went to serve. Today I, as I'm sure there are hundreds, if not thousands of men who are too old to serve their country in a military capacity, sincerely regret that circumstances did not allow us to do so! No man wants to die unnecessarily...even for a country like ours. But, I truly wish I could have served in those jungles, and risked my life for America. It's what makes us great. There's nothing more important than self sacrifice...absolutely nothing! This country, our America, has never, and I hope, will never be a second rate nation. But, if that should ever happen, we will do so knowing what it was to be the very best for all the right reasons.
May God continue to bless America! Clyde "Sonny" Jones On one such trip, I remember being awakened by the sounds of railroad crossing warning bells. Several cars had stopped on Main Street, at the edge of a nameless East Texas town, because the crossing guard arm was down and a train had stopped, blocking the road. I was struck by the fact that my father, who was big and tough as nails, was sitting behind the wheel of our old Plymouth, weeping softly, alongside my somber mother.
The streetlight scene in the darkness revealed a detachment of soldiers, standing at attention in formation beside an open train car. They were unloading several flag draped coffins onto flatbed push cars. It was such a moving scene to me as a three-year old. My father’s car window was rolled down and, except for the clanging railroad crossing bells, no one around made a sound.
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TWO HATS
Submitted by Billy Carter, November 4, 2008
First let me admit that I pulled a Bill Clinton, in doing everything to avoid getting killed in some strange country that I had never heard of, Viet Nam. Many relatives and friends did not avoid this tragic ending.
I still feel sad when I drive by a home still displaying the black “MIA” flags. I am sure all of us can name dear friends who made it through this “WAR” physically, but whose mental condition caused loss of jobs, break-up of families, drug abuse.
LBJ summed it up by saying, “I accomplished great social reform, but history will only remember me as the President who lost a war”.
To avoid this “war”, I became a member of a Texas Air Force National Guard communication unit. Having an ongoing career with Southwestern Bell Telephone Company afforded me the desired telephone skills to go the head of the line and obtain a letter to the draft board saying that I was already a member of a military unit.
Let me say a little about “the line”. John F. Kennedy was running out of single males to draft and send to their deaths in Viet Nam. Therefore, Kennedy changed the draft laws to allow for drafting of MARRIED men. As a result, at the age of 23 I received a notice to appear at our local Draft Board. “Bread earners” would be taken from millions of American homes, leaving many wives and children to fend for themselves. This caused a rush to join any National Guard or Reserve Unit.
Now to my story. At the time I joined the “Guard”, students across the USA were protesting the “WAR”. A “Peoples Party Two” was formed by students and revolutionary people in and around Texas Southern University. Yep, way back then we thought that we could be armed and marching in V formations, through the streets of Houston. (Herman Short and the Police actually went house to house, capturing “PPT” members who were shooting at office buildings.) Guard members across the USA were being trained on Urban Warfare. Even our Communication Squadron was issued rifles. Thank God, we never had to patrol our streets, but we did do many practice drills just in case we “got a call to report”.
At this time, I wore TWO HATS. I was a student at the University of Houston and a member of a National Guard unit. Remember "Kent State", where the National Guard was called up? Our young people actually shot our young people. This could easily have been me at Texas Southern. Not many knew why this Guard Unit was called up. As usual, our extremely liberal News folks reported only the poor peace loving college students putting flowers in the barrels of the Guard rifles. The night prior to the shootings these same students overran Kent, breaking into many stores to destroy property and haul loot back to their dorms! Millions of dollars of damage was done to innocent store owners’ property.
So which HAT did I wear? Did I support the student WAR PROTESTERS or the Guard who was trying to restore law and order. I never will condone the random shooting of students on campus. But, I will also never condone riots!
Please God, never allow Governments to force our young people to decide “WHICH HAT”.
Billy Carter
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A TRIBUTE TO VETERANS ON VETERAN'S DAY
U.S. President Woodrow Wilson first proclaimed an Armistice Day for November 11, 1919. Congress, on November 8, 1954, replaced "Armistice" with Veterans and it has been known as Veterans Day since then, without an apostrophe – abridged from Wikipedia I really appreciate the comments already submitted by Ray, Charles, Sonny, and Billy. Amen! America is the greatest nation on earth and we are blessed to be her sons and daughters. Thank you, Charles, for your suggestion that we take the time to honor our veterans! Without them our nation would be vulnerable to the aggressors who are opposed to the principles of freedom that democracy holds as inviolable. God bless America! Glenda Burns Minniece
********************************************* When I think of Veterans Day, I think with gratitude of veterans in general: men and women willing to put their lives on the line for the democratic ideal. I also think fondly of specific veterans who have touched my life, starting with my dad and uncles who served in World War II. In the first photo, Dad is in his Coast Guard uniform holding me in late 1942.
The three of Mother’s brothers in the next photo served in the South Pacific. The two on either side of the Navy pilot were in the Army, although one is not in uniform. Those men and women were aptly named the Greatest Generation. There is a noble unselfishness about them that subsequent generations have not equaled.
When our class came of age, I was privileged to play an insignificant part, but still a part, in the Viet Nam conflict, flying troops to and from Viet Nam. In the photo, we had decorated the cabin of the plane for Christmas, 1966. Another veteran in the family was a favorite cousin who flew helicopters for the Army in Nam in the late ‘60s and, thankfully, returned home.
My husband’s dad was career Army, graduating from West Point in 1929. In this 1935 or ’36 photo, he is stationed at Fort Ringgold, Texas and teaching John to ride. Sadly, he was killed in France and is buried in St. James Cemetary in Brittany, buried where he fell per his request.
The next photo shows John and his oldest son standing beside Col. Minniece’s grave in 1976. As Claude Lavieille, president of the association Les Fleurs de la Memoire, said, “Worse than death is to be forgotten.” The French members of this association gather once a year to pay tribute to the Americans who gave their lives liberating them from Nazi domination. We were so pleased to learn about this group of men and women and their families!
The next photo shows John in his Marine Corps dress blues in 1956. I’m glad he enlisted just too late to be sent to Korea. When we met in the early ‘70s, I was wearing a copper POW-MIA bracelet. That gesture of remembrance was probably the first thing he liked about me. Both of John’s sons served in the military when they grew up.
The oldest was in the Army, and the youngest, shown here in his dress blues in a Quantico, Virginia snowfall, was in the Marine Corps.
CLICK HERE to return to the top of the main section after reading comments below, and/or making your own comment.
Glenda,
Your well written article moved me. The shot of your husband and his son standing by that lone cross among thousands says it all. Also, your mention of the PAC-MAC, as it was called at Braniff, brought back memories of many stories told by my fellow Braniff airmen and flight attendants. Braniff flew a canary yellow 707 out of Travis. It cheered the homeward bound men to see that airplane coming for them. Thanks for the piece. Well done!
Posted by: Charles Simmons | November 06, 2008 at 07:20 AM
Where would I begin to express my thanks to the millions of veterans who served so that we could remain free. My family has never been wealthy in a monetary sense, but we are rich in heritage! My family arrived in the New World in 1640 and has served our wonderful country ever since. The Revolutionary War, the Indian Wars, two great uncles in the Civil War, one on each side. My Great-Great Grandfather, John Duncan fought for Texas Independence at San Jacinto with Sam Houston. Another uncle served in the Spanish-American War, my foster dad and an uncle in WWI in France. WWII called more family to serve, as did Korea. The unrest in the Middle East (Lebonan) resulted in a brother being wounded, and then Viet Nam same brother served 7 tours and was wounded 6 times, received a chest full of medals-retired from the Army only to die of a heart attack at age 40. I was put on stand-by for Desert Storm, but not called up. My wife's youngest brother has been to Iraq two tours and Don Hannsz' boy, Skipper is serving at present in the UAE, escorting ships thru the Straights of Harmuz.
To all past and present, I salute you and give you a heart felt "Semper Fi"...
God Bless America
Posted by: John Echoff | November 06, 2008 at 08:19 PM
Billy Carter, you mention the mess at TSU. I was there the night it all went out of control. As a member of the Sheriff's Reserve Force, I was called out and took part in putting down the disturbance. If memory serves me correctly, I believe we put 340 male students in jail that night, one police officer (HPD) was killed and one Sheriff's Deputy was wounded (me). I went on to help in several other civil disturbances during the turbulent times of civil unrest. Surrounded by mobs and threatened several times, those were some of the scariest times of my career!
Posted by: John Echoff | November 06, 2008 at 08:30 PM
“MY DADDY IS DEAD”
My Dad was in the Army Air Corps and trained at Ellington Field. I remember riding the bus out to see him and that he always came home with lots of candy from the Commissary. When he was transferred to Japan as part of the occupation troops following the end of World War II, he asked my grandparents to buy us a house so we wouldn’t need to live in Army housing while he was gone. Thankfully, my grandparents were in the position to do just that and we moved into our house on Linden Street in Pecan Park. This was a good thing. There was even talk of us joining him in Japan.
Unfortunately, however, he was killed on May 29, 1947 when his plane crashed into the side of a mountain. This was a shock from which my mother never recovered. I remember the phone call ---- no soldiers at the front door --- nothing gentle. A reporter on the phone gave her the news. I can still hear her scream and see her throwing the phone. “My Daddy is dead” was my comment to another reporter that came to our house. The article stated that “the oldest” child seemed to know what happened. Certainly nothing was ever the same.
Because of the area where his plane crashed and the number of passengers, it took the Army all summer before his remains were returned to the States. He was finally buried at Forrest Park Lawndale on November 11, 1947. Everyone says that my Mother loved my Dad so much that she was never the same.
The details of my life after that are like “the 6 o’clock” news. But I must say that I was saved by my belief in God and knowing He loved me. When I was little, and still today, when I see the moon at the point it looks like a silver sliver at the bottom of the circle, it looks like a desk to me. And if you look hard, you can see the slightest shadow of a circle which looks as if you can see right into Heaven. So, I felt like God sat at that desk and marked “who was naughty and who was nice” and that my Dad was with him --- watching! Because of that --- I tried always to be good, but especially good during that time.
Our lives are so incredibly shaped by so many things. But I do find it ironic now that, May 29th is often Memorial Day and November 11th is Veteran’s Day. These are very important days to many Americans, but especially for me.
Hug your Soldier if you have one!!
Posted by: Doris Simmons | November 12, 2008 at 02:48 PM
Sadly, I report the loss of a great American, and a legendary Marine. Colonel Jim Yawn USMC (ret.) passed on to his final reward Wednesday, November 12, 2008. Colonel Yawn was awarded the Navy Cross for his actions in WWII, as a pilot in the Pacific Theater, Col. Yawn was instrumental in the defeat of the Japanese Fleet at the Battle of Midway. Col. Yawn found the enemy fleet and maintained surveillance until Admiral Hulsey's command could intercept and defeat the enemy, which in turn led to Victory in the Pacific. It is with a heavy heart that I announce the loss of my friend, may God Bless him...
Semper Fi
Posted by: John Echoff | November 14, 2008 at 02:53 PM
After reading the postings about veterans and military service from so many of our classmates, I am moved to tears of joy and tears of sadness. Joy and admiration for their military service and that of their family and friends. Tears of sadness for the family members lost.
In 1968 my father and I took a trip to Washington, DC. We visited Arlington Military Cemetery, walking around enjoying the serene beauty yet the sadness of the rolling hills and endless grave markers. Suddenly, across one of the hills came the sound of a military bugler playing Taps. Our eyes were drawn to a sad spectacle of a military funeral on a nearby hillside. Though it was taking place several hundred yards across the hills, I felt like an intruder, watching that small group of mourners huddled around that flag draped coffin. Their grief was so heartfelt and so evident, even from that distance. I felt I should look away to give them privacy. I could not look away however. I could only offer a silent prayer for that fallen warrior and wish him God Speed to his eternal reward.
Over the ensuing war years, every time I read in the paper about a local fallen Viet Nam veteran, that scene came flooding back into my mind and heart. I am humbled to hear our Milby Class' veterans stories and I salute you all. God Bless you for your sacrifice and your selfless service in the behalf of all of our Milby classmates and families and friends.
Posted by: Ray Prichard | November 27, 2008 at 11:43 PM
Ray,
You've got a real special talent for saying everything that needs to be said in an eloquent and moving way. Your stories are terrific, and I, for one, hope you never run dry.
Thanks for sharing
Sonny
Posted by: Clyde ( Sonny ) Jones | November 28, 2008 at 05:29 PM
As we enter November, we should take a moment to observe three very important dates coming up: November 10th, the birthday of the United States Marine Corps, November 11th, originally called Armistice Day (now simply Veteran's Day), and of course the third, and in some circles the most important, November 25th, Thanksgiving Day.
I am particularly fond of all three for different reasons. Being a FORMER Marine, the 10th of November is very special to me. Having been raised by a World War I foster dad, Armistice Day was always very important to me. Third, but absolutely not last, is Thanksgiving Day. The fond memories of those wonderful family gatherings around the table, the delicious food (even in the Corps there was always a "semblance" of good holiday food). At home, after the meal, there was always the big football game.
Mainly, this time of year makes me remember the splendid time spent with family, most of whom have passed on now, but that does not lessen the memories. I especially think of my two brothers, both deceased. One served during the Korean Conflict, and the other served numerous tours in Viet Nam. He was wounded so many times I lost count of his injuries. I was indeed blessed to have two wonderful guys as brothers and they were brothers in every sense of the word.
My brother Jackie (youngest of the two) was a sergeant, stationed at the US Army Recruiting Station in downtown Houston for a while, and used to take particular delight in calling me when I worked at the Academy. He would ask to speak to "Sergeant Echoff" and the clerk would politely ask who was calling and he would reply simply "Sergeant Echoff". This would go on several times until she finally got wise to him and would just transfer the call.
Semper Fi! John
Posted by: John Echoff | November 07, 2010 at 06:32 PM
Happy Veterans Day to all. May I take a moment to express exaggerated gratitude for the service of all our military personnel who have so gallantly protected OUR FRAGILE FREEDOMS from enemies both foreign and domestic for 240 some years?
I would also pray to the hearts of those who abuse their FREEDOM, WON SOLELY by each of these FAVORED AMERICAN PATRIOTS, by attending funerals of OUR FALLEN HEROES, not to HONOR but to reflect the strange indifference FREEDOM brings forth in a politically correct society. I would pray that our FAMILY UNITS will continue to survive and lift our PRESENT service members, our VETERANS and our FALLEN comrades beyond the reach of the politically correct crowd so as to eventually eliminate any justification of judgment these misguided souls may embrace and promote!
I’m sorry if this offends anyone but I had to return to it TODAY and rethink my reason for thinking and writing it on VETERANS DAY, just to post to OUR BLOG. You see, it is MY belief that a family in mourning for a loved one, especially a FALLEN SOLDIER, should be shown an elevated sense of courtesy and not be subjected to the WHIMS of those enamored with SOCIETY and the POLITICAL SCENE!
I am taken aback by the REMOVAL/attempted REMOVAL of all that we knew as TRADITION (you get the picture)! When this country (we patriots) ALLOW ANYONE to tell a child it is not OKAY to display “OLD GLORY “on his bicycle, on VETERANS DAY, something is TERRIBLY WRONG!
That is my OPINION, I would be more than happy to entertain YOURS!
Posted by: Mike Roberts | November 14, 2010 at 07:39 PM