Memorial Day 5/21 - Blessed is She

I thought I would take this time to write what Memorial Day means to me. The daughter of a USMC Combat Vietnam Veteran 100% disabled, on the 1st Memorial Day without my dad. But, first, here are just some of his own words from the book written in 1993- WE REMEMBER.

The Way It Was– Mike Dunn. We Remember – 1993.

2nd Battalion – 1st Marine Division

Name:L/Cpl. Michael P. Dunn

Home of record: Canton, Massachusetts

DOB: 12/13/1950

Branch of Service: USMC

Date of enlistment: February 1968

Dates in Vietnam: Feb 1, 1969- Feb 26, 1970.

In Country Unit: Echo Co. 2nd BN 1st Marine Div. Alpha Co. Shore Party

“Right before we went to the Nam, they told us at the staging battalion that 1/3 of us would come home in a box, 1/3 of us would come home seriously wounded, and 1/3 would come home without a scratch.

I was attached to Echo 2/1. My MOS was 1381. We were originally trained as combat engineers, and when the Marines did a landing on the beach they would send us in and we’d put up these big flags to tell all the landing crafts where to drop guys off, where to drop off ammo, where to drop off fuel. But, because they didn’t do amphibious landings in the Nam, they had changed our MOS from 1371 to 1381, which was shore party, and changed us to work with helicopters.

When I first got there I was a team member, but my team leader, Auggie got hit, and I became the team leader. My job was to evacuate any casualties. Land choppers, make my own LZ, find a secure area someplace where there was an open field and get choppers down. Get guys on the chopper, get the wounded out. There would be two Cobra gunships that would be flying around in circles every time a chopper came in to evacuate casualties. If we were getting fire from a tree line, one of the Cobra’s would go by and make a pass with rockets, and then the other would be right behind him to wipe out that tree line so the chopper would come in, so we could get the guys out. Even now, every time I hear a helicopter I’m the first one out the door. Several times, I brought choppers in under fire- when I was being shot at myself. I was always scared. I was never so scared in my life. I’m still scared. My back’s always going to be to the wall, so I can make sure there’s no one behind me. I still believe that it’s right here, right now- we could get hit with rockets. In any place, in Massachusetts, or any other place in the country. I have that feeling of war, that it could happen at any time.

Looking back on it, I really didn’t want to talk about it either, because people didn’t really know what I’d done. You get married your in laws don’t know, and your wife doesn’t know. I have a brother Bobby who was in the Nam in the Marines, we were very close, probably because we understand each other.

It bothers me that we lost the war, we really did. I mean it was senseless, and then the whole thing is all over and done with an for what good? Over 57,000 guys were killed, and hundreds of thousands wounded, and basically nothing happened. That had a big influence on my mind, the fact that all that happened for nothing.

It might have been different if we had come home and been told that we’d done our duty and done it well and were respected. But when we came off the ship in California from the Nam, there were no banners, there were no welcome home, no nothing. And then everyone gets discharged and goes their separate ways. And don’t forget, we were very young. I was 19 when I got out of the Nam. I was sent over when I was 18. I was still a kid. But I went through my manhood there. I was still a very young man- I wasn’t old enough to vote or drink- but I was in a combat situation.

I’ll never forget being in a firefight and seeing guys getting hit all around me. I remember putting my fingers in the dirt and begging, just begging and scratching the dirt, and begging God to please not let me get hit, please let me slide. And my buddies right next to me were getting blown away and killed. And all this stuff I just can’t forget- It just stays in my mind. It really does.

We had these ponchos, and if you took two and snapped them together you made a little tent. One night during monsoon season at 3-4 in the morning, my buddy Auggie and I were in our little tent when we got hit with incoming. It was mortars, and Auggie got hit with shrapnel. He got up yelling and screaming, and I knocked him down, because we started getting small arms fire. Things like that I’ll just never forget. I have a big piece of shrapnel that I snuck home which almost killed my best buddy and me too. A big, huge piece of shrapnel that almost hit me. It’s weird that this piece of shrapnel means so much to me. Picture it when it explodes from a rocket or a mortar, millions of little pieces, red-hot and all jagged edges, and they go tumbling through the air. And that’s how we got most of our wounds.

The armpits of my jungle fatigues were completely rotted out. I had no laces in my boots-the tongues were flopping out. You did what you had to do. I didn’t see running water or anything close to it for almost a whole year living out in the bush. We had 13 months. The Marines did 13. I believe I did just a couple of weeks under the 13 because that’s when Nixon was saying “out’ and they started to pull the 1st Marine Division out. They flew us out on choppers, and they said everyone is going home on a ship.

Coming home on the ship, I couldn’t believe we were out of the Nam. They’d get on the speaker and say “We’re 20 miles from the coast, and you’re out of a combat environment now, you are safe and sound.” On the ship there were a lot of nights when I think I just wanted to kill myself, just wanted to jump off the ship and die. I couldn’t believe that I’d left. That it was over just like that, and I couldn’t believe all the lives that I’d seen lost. And I felt like it wasn’t worthwhile living myself. I actually wanted to jump off that ship and do myself in. I really did. I couldn’t believe it – it was over, just like that. That bothers me today, knowing that I left there, and I left all those guys that got killed.

When we got discharged, it was basically stamp your hand, stamp your card and you’re out. There were no classes. They taught you how to more or less be an animal, to live like and animal, but they didn’t teach you how to come back into the world-how to be polite and all that stuff again. I’m still confused, thinking about all these things. You try to do good, you try to be honorable and everything, but you still have this blockage. It’s not a chip on my shoulder- it’s just something that’s there, that’s always with me. No matter what I do, or where I go, I constantly think about it. All these things. And I just put them in one bag and that one bag just follows me around wherever I go. And I can’t shake it off, I’ve tried”

That excerpt was written by my dad in 1993 for the book mentioned above. “And to all the contributors of material, who searched their scrapbooks and attics for the photographs & memorabilia in this book, and who searched their hearts and their souls to bring forth the memories on these pages – thank you” – David & Marian Novak.

Those words were 24 years after my dad had gone to and returned “home” from the Vietnam war. My dad passed away on 8/26/2020. He was considered 100% disabled from his tour in Vietnam. He was sprayed with Agent Orange, Agent Pink and God only knows what other dioxins while serving and fighting against communism in a foreign land, called Vietnam. His body showed the battles of such a war. His skin was covered in what he referred to as “jungle rot”. His heart was affected. Every part of him was, actually. There is of course no doubt he made lifestyle choices throughout the years that didn’t help his health. But, the young man that left at 18 was not the same young man returning home at 19. His body & mind were forever stamped by the gorilla warfare, the tremendous loss of life witnessed & the effects of Agent Orange. If that were not enough, the government finally acknowledged, during his time at Camp Lejeune (for service men & women during the years of)

My dad was a Helicopter Support Team Member. He became a leader after his leader was wounded. To quote from a Battalion Bulletin, 8 Feb 1970- Subj: Meritorious Mast

On Operation “PIPESTONE CANYON” L/Cpl. directed in all resupply and medical evacuation helicopters. Early in the operation, a medical evac. helicopter was spiralling into the zone and came under enemy fire. Lance Corporal Dunn and his team quickly pinpointed the enemy’s location and directed the gunship to fire on the enemy. Besides operations “OKLAHOMA HILLS”, “DURHAM PEAK” AND “DEFIANT STAND” he conducted numerous sweeps with 1st Battalion, 1st Marines. He also worked as Loading Noncommissioned Officer at LSA PAYNE on HILL 55. His attention to duty and insight in rigging loads quickly and correctly, during the daily resupply brought credit to his company & himself. His unswerving devotion to duty, contagious enthusiasm and steadfast loyalty have proven him to be a fine Marine, and reflects great credit upon himself, his unit, the Marine a corps, and the United States Naval Service.”

Citation:

”-In connection with combat operations against the enemy in the Republic of Vietnam L/Cpl Dunn performed his duties in an exemplary manner. He displayed outstanding professionalism and initiative despite extremely adverse conditions & the difficulties of a combat environment. Distinguishing himself by his consistently high level of efficiency, he materially enhanced the operational effectiveness of his unit. Participating in 4 major combat operations- including Oklahoma Hills, Pipestone Canyon & Defiant Stand, he repeatedly distinguished himself by his courage and composure under fire, as he skillfully participated in the vital helicopter resupply of combat committed units. As a result of his diligence and seemingly unlimited resourcefulness, he gained the respect and admiration of all who observed him and contributed significantly to the accomplishment of his units mission. LCpl Dunn’s outstanding professional ability, untiring determination, and steadfast devotion to duty reflect great credit upon himself, the Marine Corps and the United States Naval Service. The combat distinguishing device is authorized. The Navy Achievement Medal (with combat V).

I learned many years ago that society still doesn’t understand. It’s odd to me that nowadays, we spend so much time making sure this one isn’t offended or that one. This saying, this book or this movie is now offensive. But, you never hear anyone bringing awareness to the simple phrase of “Happy Memorial Day”. You can’t say “Merry Christmas” anymore because you might “offend” someone. What about actually offending our combat veterans when you say “Happy Memorial Day”to them. For them, the day comes every year, without fail. Every year people plan their get togethers and their cookouts. They complain about work and how they are happy to have a long weekend. They STILL don’t understand what Memorial Day is. They still thank Veterans for their service, while saying a very happy Memorial Day. At least that, they believe is respectful. Please save that for Veteran’s Day. It only takes some extra thought & consideration to stop, think, reflect and educate themselves on what actually is Memorial Day. It is the day we honor the incredible and ultimate sacrifice of the men and women who died in uniform. We honor the ones who never returned home.

What does Memorial Day mean to a combat Veteran?

Growing up in the 70’s-90’s, people kept their business to themselves. What happened behind closed doors was not only – not talked about, it wasn’t even discussed within your own family. When my dad returned home from Vietnam at the age of 19, there were no welcome banners. There were no parties, no parades. There was none of that. They were made to feel as awful as they, themselves felt. They were not instructed to “decompress” or talk about “it”. Grown men don’t cry.….Especially Marines. Imagine for one moment witnessing just 1 day (24 hours) the life of a Vietnam Veteran. Imagine being out in the “bush” digging foxholes, eating c-rations and evacuating body bags, day after day after day while under enemy fire. Imagine being in a foreign land, defending the rights of people you’ve never met, will never see again and unaware if they wanted to kill you… or they were desperately grateful you’re helping them…helping them live their life without the murdering communist Viet Cong & NVA. To witness such carnage at such a young age and not be reintroduced back into society, for the ones who survived, must have been hell on earth. I only know for my dad it was. Because I lived through it with him during my childhood.

My dad returned home, soon married his love, my mom. They quickly had my oldest brother Michael in 1972, myself 1974 and my youngest brother Christopher “Chopper” in 1975. As a small child you don’t know what PTSD is. My father didn’t even know then. That term came many, many years later. As a teenager, you don’t understand the rage and the violence and anger your dad is experiencing. You only know he turned to alcohol, nightly and after many beers, he became a monster. A monster fighting “Charlie”. After the fight, his fight, I recall a desperate sadness in him. He talked about his brothers. He used words like “blown away” and “body parts”. These became a norm in our household during these nightly episodes. Nobody but my mom, my 2 brother’s and I and my Nana Del (my mom’s mom) knew exactly how bad it really was those nights. I guess if you just clean up the “mess” it didn’t really happen, did it? I guess if you don’t talk about it, it didn’t happen either. Until the next night. What triggered my dad? It could be anything. It could have been a sound, a smell, a thought, a bad mood. There was deep sadness there. You could see it. You could feel it. You just couldn’t help it, you just couldn’t help him. How could we help him, when the government that sent him to war, didn’t even help him when he returned. It has a name. It has a few names, It’s called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It’s called survivor’s guilt. Nobody knew we were reliving Vietnam on 1226 Central Street, Stoughton, Massachusetts, every night. I don’t say this now for any other reason, but healing. Talking about something we were not allowed to talk about brings healing. It also brings awareness. Nobody should ever suffer the initial cause, survive it, and then continue to suffer in silence.. for years. How truly sad is that.

💔 22 💔.

22 Veterans take their own lives every single day. Do you know this # is taken from The Veterans Affairs report from 2012, using numbers from only 21 states from 1999-2011. The #22 should be a starting point of lives taken daily. According to the report, the majority of veterans suicides are committed by Vietnam Vet. era. However, the media is quiet on this. They truly are still forgotten.

I will never know what my dad actually felt leaving Vietnam on that ship back in 1970 at age 19. He wrote he wanted to jump off, he couldn’t believe he had left after watching so many others die. I never really asked those questions because you really couldn’t. You just had to sit in your silence and let him know you loved him. There are so many questions I never asked my dad, so many things I wanted to know more about. But, in the early years we all were in survival mode. Looking back, I honestly don’t know how we survived. I take that back, I do know. There’s a John Michael Montgomery song “The little girl” that always spoke to my heart. Not necessarily the actual lyrics, but there is so much truth to that song in relating to my life. The violence, the drinking. So much so, that when I left home at 18, I vowed to become a foster parent and make just 1 child feel safe at night. That song and the things I witnessed growing up after my dad’s service in Vietnam, did lead me to becoming a foster parent. For 18 children.

❤️ There CAN be beauty for ashes.

My dad was the proudest Marine I will ever know. Despite what serving his country did to his body, mind and soul – he was proud and disciplined. He carried the virtues of the Marines with him all the days of his life. SEMPER FIDELIS – Latin for always faithful. The meaning of Semper Fidelis, ” It is the fighting spirit of every Marine that can make the promise to win our Nation’s battles. This promise is proclaimed in our motto. Semper Fi, and it means that we are always faithful to those on our left and right, from the fellow Marines we fight alongside, to those in our communities for which we fight”. It’s a steadfast loyalty to their fellow Marines they fight alongside. Imagine a Marine leaving on a ship at the age of 19 . Imagine leaving behind your brothers…..The one thing they train you to never do, never leave a man behind. I can’t even comprehend what my dad felt as they got further and further off the coast of Vietnam. To understand this past Monday he was reunited in heaven on Memorial Day with ALL his brother’s, there just truly aren’t any words. I’ve been crying for days just thinking of his heart. He carried such a tremendous cross every single day since he left. Since he survived. Imagine having guilt that you survived. You were one of the lucky ones. Imagine that being a damaging thing your entire life. Imagine becoming a new father in your early 20’s and battling a demon telling you, you should’ve died. You shouldn’t be home. You don’t belong. Every breath you take, you regret living, while your brother’s were left behind. That is what Memorial Day means to a combat Veteran. THAT is why you don’t say “Happy Memorial Day”….. if you see happiness in any of that, you don’t understand sacrifice.

Despite my dad’s severe PTSD & survivor’s guilt, he still managed to run a very successful business- Dunn Landscape Construction. He worked every single day. He provided for his family & he provided very well. He was present the best way he could be, despite the demons he battled. I forgave him a very long time ago for the things that never should have come home with him. He was never meant to carry that cross alone. He was never meant to carry the weight of “Vietnam“ alone. I realized as a young adult myself, his country failed him. His government failed him, (them). There should have been services in place immediately for those who survived. They were entitled to that. They earned that. Think about that the next time you see a Vietnam Veteran. Welcome him home. Thank him for his service. Let him know you’re thinking of him. There are 52,000 plus names on THE WALL in DC, there are thousands of other names, that in my opinion, belong on a wall. They suffered long and hard. They suffer silently until they take their last breath. Then, they reunite with their battalion.

“Today, the United States stands as a beacon of liberty and democratic strength before the community of nations. We are resolved to stand firm against those who would destroy the freedoms we cherish. We are determined to achieve an enduring peace- a peace with liberty and with honor. This determination, this resolve, is the highest tribute we can pay to the many who have fallen in the service of our Nation” – Ronald Reagan

I pray my dad’s soul is finally at peace. I pray he is now able to heal and have a beer with his buddies and they can tell him – It’s ok Mike. You gave your all. We were there. You served faithfully, honorably and demonstrated such courage. Your commitment was unrelenting. I hope they all gave him that very long deserved, welcome home. Welcome home Mike. I hope his guilt is finally gone. I pray his soul is at peace, everlasting eternal peace.

I miss and love you more than you will ever know daddy. I am so proud to be your daughter. It was worth it. You fought against communism & evil that was trying to destroy the lives of innocent men, woman & children. People you never knew. You fought. You protected. You survived. You will never be forgotten. It was absolutely worth it.

I know you are still surrounding us with your love, guidance and presence. When we offered on our home in Italy, the final contract was signed on, Veteran’s Day 🇺🇸

11/10/2020. The Patron Saint of our village, Poggio Nativo, happens to be Saint Michael, the archangel. And our home was listed by the realtor as the “Guardian of the castle”…..I envision my dad, a proud Marine guarding the gates of heaven on his final tour of duty. Back with the young men of the 2nd Battalion 1st Marine Division. God bless you all. So on this Memorial Day, and every one to come… we honor their fight to defend the American way of life. A hero is only forgotten when his /her name is never mentioned again. Say their names. Show them, we as a nation will never forget their sacrifices- the ultimate sacrifice 💔🇺🇸🙏🏻 .