AMGRUNT MEMORY:

A recollection of the Tet Offensive of 1968
By Former Corporal Robert D. Cook USMC

Being in a war, being in Vietnam and being in a Marine rifle platoon is dangerous. Sometimes it hard to believe! And one single day in Vietnam was almost worse than the entire 13-month-tour I spent "in-country" in 1967 and 1968.

That day was January 20th, 1968 and it will always be there heavily seared into my memory just below the surface. I really don't like thinking about it! However, sometimes the memories flood in like picture frames of a fragmented movie. And still, after 35 years I can recall the events of January 20th, 1968 just like a movie I've recently watched. Sometimes the images come back to me in flashbacks. Flashbacks of things I really wish I had never seen!

I know I am one of the few lucky ones from my platoon who weren't killed or wounded that bloody day on the eastern edge of the village of My Loc on the Cua Viet River near its mouth running into the South China Sea.

We were known as "amgrunts" amtracter infantrymen in an Amtrac Battalion who used my company, Company A, constantly as a rifle company. I liked the fact we rode out into the field on amtracs and then left the huge green machines known as LVTP-5 A1s (landing vehicle tracked personnel) behind. We were given -- for me -- the pleasant freedom of walking or patrolling from village to village during the day. Then at sunset we set up ambushes. Everyone manned two-man fox holes at night holding two-hour watches then sleeping two hours. I have always enjoyed walking and I enjoyed the patrols; and sometimes playing with the Vietnamese kids in the villages during the day. Walking "the bush" as it was called was enjoyable and to me preferable to being an amtrac crewman. I considered myself an 0311, a term that meant basic rifleman, just as 1833 meant amtrac crewman.

However, we still operated our amtracs from time to time. The changes in the routines always helped make the days pass by quickly. We stayed busy!

In the bush, we usually took five-day patrols. The area of our operation was known to me by a Time Magazine article as a sandy desert like box directly east of "leatherneck square." We patrolled an area bordered on the north by the Demilitarized Zone(DMZ): on the east by the South China Sea; and the south by our base camp named Camp Kistler for the very first Marine killed there, but almost everyone always just called the compound "Cua Viet." And then westward over towards Highway 1 and Dong Ha, then up north towards the DMZ, and the lookout towers of Gio Linh which we could see from a short distance.

Dong Ha was the main Marine base camp in the middle of Quang Tri Province near the Demilitarized Zone or DMZ. We patrolled an area of at least 30-plus-square-miles eastward of Highway 1 above the Cua Viet River to where it flowed into the South China Sea. Our area of operations became as familiar to all of us as our backyards in the cities, suburbs and farm fields back home. The Cua Viet River flows out from Dong Ha into the ocean. The river was the major supply route from our port facility, where Navy Seabees unloaded cargo - mainly artillery shells -- from Navy LSTs onto supply boats traveling up river to Dong Ha and from there to all the other fire bases along the DMZ.

To quote from Allan R. Millett's definitive institutional history of the United States Marine Corps "Semper Fidelis" - page 584 - "American policy prohibited ground and artillery strikes into the DMZ itself and limited air attacks in the same area. Sensing this policy, the NVA moved both ground divisions and heavy artillery and rockets south of the Ben Hai River (which bisected the DMZ and set up extensive air defenses to protect them. This NVA movement dramatized another difficulty along the DMZ: logistical support for the expanded war. American aircraft could deliver some supplies to the Dong Ha airfield, itself occasionally under Communist fire, but the full supply burden of the DMZ war could be met only by bringing supplies by landing craft and LST up the Cua Viet River. Protection of the Cua Viet, an easy target for Communist interdiction, required extensive ground operations. Forced by the nonincursion policy to assume a posture of static defense and reaction, the 3rd Marine Division established eight bases for artillery support, ground defense, and counterattacks. The bases became synonymous with frustration, discomfort, and casualties: Khe Sanh, The Rockpile, Ba Long, Ca Lu, Camp Carroll, Cam Lo, Cua Viet and Gio Linh."

I remember our battalion landing on open beaches at Cua Viet in April 1967 by LSTs from our previous base camp near the Da Nang Airbase. We protected the only major water supply route into the DMZ from the ocean on the Cua Viet River to Dong Ha; and it was our job to keep the river open for boat traffic. We were not supporting the infantry. My company, Company A, was the infantry and amtracs from B and H & S companies kept being amtrackers.

Now in Quang Tri Province, the very most northern section of South Vietnam we were always within range of North Vietnamese artillery and rockets from North Vietnam. This part of South Vietnam narrows down to a length of approximately 50 to 60 miles bordering what was then North Vietnam and Laos directly to the west. The DMZ ran along the Ben Hai River and you could easily see the mountain ranges of Laos from our home at Cua Viet.

Our Cua Viet base camp was hit by rockets and artillery so often, that no one I knew ever kept an accounting -- except for a running number of how many times each week. The dozens of green tents sparkled at night looking like Christmas trees from the light bulbs shining through all the shrapnel holes. We kept our helmets and flak jackets close by and always carried our rifles when moving within the compound.

Sandbagged bunkers were everywhere in our base camp. We walked, slept and lived in the sand. We made a home right on the coastline in a pine tree covered area where the Cua Viet River met the South China Sea. It was beautiful in many ways when the war didn't intrude. It could have been a summer camp for young people with the nice beaches and pleasant breezes; but the barbed concertina wire, sandbagged bunkers and incoming artillery never let you forget for long that this was a war zone.

One good thing about all the sand, which was much harder to walk in than dirt; it absorbed the artillery and rocket shells better than hard ground. If they didn't catch you in the open with the first rounds into the base camp; they needed a direct hit on a sandbagged bunker to kill you. I can remember hitting the bunkers and then relaxing and continuing to do something like reading a letter from home, while the artillery shells continued to whistle into our base camp.

On the morning of January 20th, 1968 our platoon was sent up north by the DMZ and we dismounted for another patrol. We we're just getting our feet on the ground off the one amtrac when we got a call to get back on our tractor and head south. Right at that moment I remember laughing with Private First Class Clarence Mitchell a black Marine from Cincinnati, Ohio. I had just found out our platoon sergeant, then Gunnery Sergeant Buell Thompson, a North Carolina native, had recruited Mitchell into the Marine Corps from his previous duty assignment as a Marine recruiter back in Cincinnati. Sometimes it's a small world; but it sure was a long way from Ohio to where we were now on this hot sunny day in South Vietnam near the DMZ.

Little did we know this was the beginning of the last hour of life for Mitchell along with eleven others Marines from my platoon who would be killed and many more Marines than that wounded in 3rd platoon.

Now, for the record, here is the way that the events of that tragic day played out for me Lance Corporal Robert D. Cook of Saint Louis, Missouri, a twenty-year-old Marine rifleman, among 30-plus fellow Marines in my platoon. Every one almost always had a nickname. Mine was "Cookie" and I was part of the "3rd Herd" the "amgrunts" of the 3rd Platoon Company A, 1st Amphibian Tractor Battalion.

We got the order through our radioman we were going back south, because the South Vietnamese Army junk fleet had some contact with the enemy. They told us it was continuing, but this was the extent of the information. It's always passed along-the-line from Marine-to-Marine and sometimes you don't think too much about it except "here we go again" and laugh!

All of us immediately got back on the amtrac only about five minutes after we had dismounted up close to the DMZ. Back on the tractor we rode down the coastline again to the mouth of the Cua Viet River in less than half an hour. Other platoons of marines all sitting on tops of their amtracs had received the same order and headed back south to regroup. Near the mouth of the Cua Viet River we were met by about half-a-dozen other amtracs with Marines from the 1st Amtrac Battalion. The tops of the amtracs were all crowed with Marine like bees on a honey comb. These were the rifleman Marines of the other Company A Platoons 1st, 2nd and 4th. Right then, there was a feeling in the air that something was going to happen -- we were going into battle!

Lieutenant Richard Reynolds of New York City, dismounted and went to talk with our Company Commander Major P. Martin Johnson, a third-tour Vietnam career Marine from Texas City, Texas. After a few minutes conversation, Reynolds came back on board our tractor and yelled in the ear of our amtrac driver to take off! And off our single tracked vehicle headed straight out into the open desert breaking through the space of the pine trees running all along the South China Sea's coastline.

We were one amtrac with over 30 Marines fully aware we were on our way somewhere in a hurry! In fact, we just kept going and going at full speed, about 25 miles-per-hour, over-a-mile or more across the open desert plains just to the north of the Cua Viet River. Soon there were bullets whizzing over our heads and the noise from the amtrac motor was extremely loud! We were covering ground fast! Rifle fire was coming at our amtrac packed elbow-to-elbow with Marines from across the sandy desert over-a-mile to the west in the village of My Loc.

I can remember people saying, "What the hell is going on?" We were all looking at each other and realizing things were going to happen soon. But being up on top of the amtrac we couldn't do anything, but ride to wherever we were being taken. It was Corporal Hank Ralya of Shalimar, Florida, who was carrying the M-79 grenade launcher for the platoon that day. Hank was facing me directly and he laughed and shouted as rifle bullets sizzled over our heads, "I don't know what the hell is going on," Rayla, yelled toward the firing, "but I am sure ready to kill some gooks!" That was a common expression heard about the enemy almost always the North Vietnamese Army.

The NVA "Regulars" had given us an unfriendly "hello" every week we had been up on the DMZ since the Spring of 1967. They were highly trained and disciplined troops who wore green pith helmets and green army fatigues with a communist red star belt buckle and carried a variety of small arms weapons. We used to joke and laugh, "Hey! I bet they had to go through boot camp too!"

No one had been given any information about where we were going; but it all came to sudden immediate halt -- when a rocket propelled grenade or RPG hit the front of our amtrac. We had almost run over the North Vietnamese soldiers, who were shooting at us from across the sandy plains.

The single amtrac stopped right in front of a small berm or little linear hill running along the west bank of My Loc village and its cemetery. We were under intense rifle and machine gun fire and some Marines were killed right on top of our amtrac. We jumped off with many of us landing on top of each other. I 'm sure that's how my M-14's rifle's rear peep site was broken. Every Marine's immediate thought was get to some cover! I saw most Marines running directly behind the amtrac. I decided I wanted no part of the crowd. It would be a killing zone and it was!

I took my chances and ran out in the open to the left of my amtrac; and about two amtrac lengths or about 60 feet from the small hill where the North Vietnamese soldiers were hidden and shooting from; and I dropped into a prone shooting postion in the watery sand. The firing was so intense that most of those killed and wounded were probably shot in the first two or three minutes; and much of the heavy firing was over in five minutes to ten minutes.

They were hitting us from so close you could see their eyes when they popped up! This was the North Vietnamese Army fully equipped with helmets, uniforms, backpacks and mostly AK- 47 rifles. The AK-47 makes a very distinct sound and you know it. This time they were almost on top of us! They would jump up for brief seconds and fire at point-blank range. Soon almost all the Marines around me had been killed or wounded and knocked out of the fight. Some of them died instantly. Others stayed so still I thought they were dead. Sometimes their eyes told the story. I remember the strongest Marine in our platoon Private First Class John Washington from Earle, Arkansas. The huge Marine's eyes were staring blankly towards the sky seeing nothing. Shouts of "corpsman" went up but our Corpsman Ron "Doc" Blasius from Detroit, Michigan was immediately hit and nowhere to be seen.

Right next to me a fellow Marine from Long Beach, California took a bullet right through his open month. It came out his neck and he was hysterical! He kept crawling around screaming, "I'm hit, I'm hit!" I told Corporal W.A. Marshall he was okay and he needed to pick up his rifle again and start shooting back. It looked just like a bad rope burn along his neck; but Marshall just couldn't control his emotions and was blinded by shock. But I couldn't stop and help him!

The firing was too intense. I was afraid to take my rifle out of my shoulder for even a few seconds! I continued to fire at the numerous NVA soldiers directly in front of us. They were not more than the lengths of two amtracs away. Just about everyone on my left flank was shot. Lieutenant Reynolds was almost on top of the berm where the enemy was firing from. He didn't move at all during the battle and raised his right arm briefly after the firing stopped to utter "Get back!" his last words.

To Reynold's right was Private First Class Gerald Lentz from Whitting, Indiana. He was shot in the leg and screaming frantically for "help" right by our amtrac. Lentz started turning blue in the face. He realized he was bleeding to death from a leg wound and started laughing at the irony! Lentz turned blue and died laughing at the same time in less than two minutes. There was death, bleeding and chaos all around. No two eyes could have taken in all the action and reaction, all the screaming and dying over a short distance of not more than 90 to 120 feet distance to our front and across our rear.

Just then a North Vietnamese soldier on the right side of the amtrac got up and ran all the way down the berm to where it sloped off to flat sandy ground. Everyone pointed at him, but no one fired at him. He got away with it! He was the only NVA soldier I saw completely in full open view. He was really lucky he didn't get shot!

Just in front of me I had briefly seen the faces of several soldiers. One of them was hiding behind a bush and he didn't have a helmet or rifle. He just kept looking and looking through the small bush, which was concealment, but not cover. I had a perfect shot at his head. I remember how brightly my front sight stood out on the barrel tip of my M-14. I squeezed off a round and hit him right in the forehead. His head exploded and then a few seconds later a flame of fire shot up about 30 feet into the air. The entire scene actually played out to me in slow motion. I had an immediate rush of satisfaction! I got him before he got me!

Later we realized this NVA soldier was carrying a flamethrower, which was recovered from the battlefield.

Suddenly, I saw Hank Rayla shooting in the same direction. Rayla was shot and knocked down as he was firing his M-79 grenade launcher from a standing position. Rayla immediately got back up on his feet and fired a second time. Then automatic weapons' fire hit him again and completely knocked him down again. Then unbelievably, Rayla got back on his feet a -- third time! This time machine-gun bullets completely picked him up off the ground. Rayla literally died in midair as the heavy volume of fire lifted his body off the ground while his head dropped. This was the most gruesome death that day but their were others!

Two Marine Lance Corporals Bill Basalyga of Peekskill, New York, and Lance Corporal R.G. "Mac" McLaughlin from Atlantic City, New Jersey: then took Ralya's body and dragged it on board the amtrac on my right flank, which now had backed up from the berm to our rear. I remember making eye contact with Basalyga and saying to myself in my head, "Bass, don't leave me here!" We made "heavy eye contact" and then I knew he was leaving me behind. The ramp went up with Basalyga and McLaughlin in the amtrac taking only Ralya's body. Soon the driver started backing up toward my right rear side as I lay in a prone position in the sand on his left flank. Marines in front of the amtrac along with me were yelling at the amtrac driver "No, No! No!"

But it was all in vain, the driver didn't have his head up out of the amtrac's cupola's hatch, because of the heavy gunfire. The amtrac backed right over a Marine lying just a few feet behind me completely running over his head. Private Paul Roberts of South Bend, Indiana was face down and laying very still in the sand from the beginning of the firefight. Roberts was decapitated by the amtrac backing up. I was sickened by this and angry with Basalyga for leaving me as the amtrac pulled away to retreat. He was one of my closest buddies in the platoon; and we had bird-dogged each other all the way through the Marine Corps from stateside training into 3rd Platoon. We landed at Da Nang Airbase together and the two of us hopped into the back of the pickup truck to report to 1st Amtrac Battalion together.

Then it hit me. Those of us still left behind were very likely probably all going to die. I was still too busy to be afraid and I said to myself; I wish I just had one more chance "one minute" to say "goodbye" to those I loved.

The sandy ground around us was also taking mortar fire and I saw mortars shells explode right in front of me in the sand, but because of my prone position I wasn't hit. Marines continued to yell and scream; but I was still afraid to take my rifle off my shoulder. I continued to lie in a prone postion keeping my eyes on the sandy berm in front of me and sometimes fired to keep NVA soldier's heads down.

Suddenly a Huey helicopter gunship came in right on top of us. It was not more than 50 to 75 feet off the ground at times and the door gunner opened up on the NVA soldiers firing at us. The gunship kept firing directly down in front of me with its machine gun going full blast. It was doing a pretty damn good job of staying in the fight. It stayed over us for more than five minutes jumping wildly and bucking fiercely around in the air several times. It was quite a dramatic sight! A wild bucking bull in the sky with its door gunner's machine gun blazing away at almost point blank range! The NVA soldiers continued firing directly back at the helicopter from the ground, which made the pilot spin around-and-around in the sky; but staying right over the enemy. Finally the NVA soldiers ceased the heavy firing! It was only this Huey gunship that stopped the continued firing of the North Vietnamese soldiers and made them fall back. I believe the few of us left numbered four or five non-wounded or killed Marines at this time. We probably -- and very likely all would also have been killed -- along with those wounded who couldn't move. The NVA had the cover and we were out in the open from a very close distance!

The 3rd Platoon had been caught on top of one amtrac without cover. And what cover there was, behind the amtrac looked like people standing on a subway platform. The North Vietnamese Army had targets so close they didn't have to aim to hit someone. It was like "shooting fish in a barrel" for them. I think our platoon and amtrac probably made the "only one-horse cavalry charge of the Vietnam War."

Soon Marine artillery fire came rushing just over our heads on the NVA positions, called in by Lance Corporal Daniel Reeves from the Washington, D.C. area. Reeves had been shot so badly in the legs he couldn't move.

We had driven them back! Some of us were still alive, but during the course of this brief, but heavy firefight 3rd Platoon ceased to exist. This time they were the hammer and they we the anvil!

Reinforcements arrived first by Lieutenant Donald Head and part of his 4th Platoon, who had continued out to our position on foot after hitting a land mine on their amtrac. I remember Lieutenant Head limping badly as he directed his Marines into our position and then they scattered out among us adding about 10 more Marines to our ranks near My Loc. I met a Marine from 4th Platoon I didn't know and we made small talk asking each other where we were from in the states. He was from Athens, Georgia.

Then after what seemed like about two-long-hours later, elements of B Company slowly walked across the open sandy desert or plains to our postion. The Marines had spread out widely, but in a line shoulder to shoulder with other amtracs following them. They came out into our position by the dozens -- and then the North Vietnamese Army dropped artillery fire right on top of all of us -- after they got there!

By that time, I had dug my foxhole just like everyone else who came out to our position on the edge of My Loc. The artillery came screaming in right on top of us directly from North Vietnam. I saw shells hit right next to Marine's foxholes. The sandy ground all around was smoking from the artillery rounds. But soon very happy Marines would stick their heads out unscathed from artillery shells landing just feet away. These were about the only smiles I saw all that afternoon.

When the shelling from North Vietnam finally ceased we got the all clear call to move south into the woods by the Cua Viet River. The fear had overtaken me by now and my one leg was frozen from lack of blood circulation in it; and the realization of everything recently taking place! I massaged and beat my leg for over a minute to finally get myself moving again. I ran, limped and walked into the nearby woods by the river with everyone else; while bodies and wounded Marines were put on rescuing amtracs by the Marines who came to get us. At this time, I completely lost all contact with any remaining members of my platoon.

It was easily the worst day of life on earth I had or probably anyone there will ever live through! Those words have been spoken by Marines who were there and survived! I still sometimes can't believe how close we all came to being killed that day in January 1968. It was the beginning of the Tet Offensive of 1968 and 3rd Platoon had already paid its dues in some of the worst fighting of the Vietnam war. I was truly grateful to still be alive!

A special emergency Battalion Landing Team of Infantry came off ships from the South China Sea and fought for over a week in My Loc a few days later. The Special Landing Battalion took heavy causalities too. The Marines we picked up on amtracs the following week when their fighting in My Loc had ended were jumpy and exhausted. They also had taken heavy losses from at least one -- and some said several -- battalions of what we first encountered on January 20th, NVA Regulars soldiers of the highly-trained 320th North Vietnamese Division. They said they buried the NVA dead with a bulldozer. The 320th Division had planned to close the Cua Viet River during the Tet Offensive to stop the river supplies by boat to Dong Ha.

We transferred these remaining Marines from this on-call floating battalion from My Loc to a postion south of the Cua Viet River and our base camp after the week of heavy fighting ended at My Loc. It was fighting that would continue on for the Marines of I Corps until the last days of February with the recapture of the city of Hue about 80 miles to our south.

I came back to the battalion three days later by myself after going out in the field with a full platoon. I was the last Marine from 3rd Platoon to come back into the Cua Viet base camp after January 20, 1968. I had stayed on the north side of the Cua Viet River digging in with 2nd and 4th Platoons for several days.

When I traveled back to our base camp on the south side of the Cua Viet River by amtrac I was the only member of my platoon crossing back over the Cua Viet River and it was a grim and lonely ride. I felt both cold chills and giddy laughter as I crossed back over the Cua Viet River to safety. I was a lucky survivor. Back in the relative safety of the base camp I heard the fighting continue to go on daily just across the river in My Loc for another week. And I was glad to be out of the fray!

A few weeks later, I was called into the company office by Major Johnson my Company Commander. There was a correspondent from Leatherneck Magazine waiting there. The Leatherneck reporter wanted to write a story about me and shooting the NVA soldier with the flamethrower. I told Major Johnson and the others in the Company A Office I didn't want to be written up in Leatherneck Magazine for this: because I knew others wanted credit to go to Hank Ralya for his dramatic and valiant actions during this firefight with the NVA that day. Rayla was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross for his valor.

What I have told here is true to the best of my knowledge. I know other platoon members saw the flame from the flamethrower and also thought they may have shot the triggerman. Combat is chaos and everyone involved sees what is happening from different fields of view. Lt. Col. Johnson, now retired, remembers this company A office conversation very well for we have talked about it several times. I told those present in Major Johnson's office that day; I was just happy to be alive and "being a survivor" was all the reward I'll ever need to have. I felt very lucky to be alive and medals and publicity seemed and were to me unimportant after all that happened on January 20th, 1968. Those that died that day from 3rd Platoon, eleven Marines, and two others from the battalion totaling "13 killed in action" deserve every credit for being good Marines who gave everything on January 20th, 1968 along with many other encounters with North Vietnamese soldiers on our 13-month tours along the DMZ.

The following is a list of all the Marines in the 1st Amtrac Battalion Marine that were killed in action on January 20th 1968.

PAUL MICHAEL ROBERTS was born on July 8, 1947 and joined the Armed forces while in SOUTH BEND, IN. He served as a 1833 in the Marine Corps. In 1 year of service, he attained the rank of PVT/E1. On January 20, 1968 at the age of 20, PAUL MICHAEL ROBERTS perished in the service of our country in South Vietnam, Quang Tri.

STEPHEN ANTHONY GUARDINO was born on June 3, 1948 and joined the Armed Forces while in NORRISTOWN, PA. He served as a 1833 in the Marine Corps. In 1 year of service, he attained the rank of PFC/E2. On January 20, 1968, at the age of 19, STEPHEN ANTHONY GUARDINO perished in the service of our country in South Vietnam, Quang Tri.

GEORGE ARTHUR LINK was born on February 27, 1948 and joined the Armed Forces while in NEW KENSINGTON, PA. He served as a 1833 in the Marine Corps. In 1 year of service, he attained the rank of PFC/E2. On January 20, 1968 at the age of 19, GEORGE ARTHUR LINK perished in the service of our country in South Vietnam, Quang Tri.

JOHN WASHINGTON was born on April 25, 1947 and joined the Armed Forces while in EARLE, AR. He served as a 1833 in the Marine Corps. In 1 year of service, he attained the rank of PFC/E2. On January 20, 1968 at the age of 20, JOHN WASHINGTON perished in the service of our country in South Vietnam, Quang Tri.

RICHARD PETER REYNOLDS JR was born on September 25, 1944 and joined the Armed Forces while in NEW YORK, NY. He served as a 1801 in the Marine Corps. In 1 year of service, he attained the rank of 2LT/01. On January 20, 1968, at the age of 23, RICHARD PETER REYNOLDS JR perished in the service of our country in South Vietnam, Quang Tri.

CLARENCE E MITCHELL JR was born on September 13, 1949 and joined the Armed Forces while in CINCINNATI, OH. He served as a 1833 in the Marine Corps. In 1 year of service, he attained the rank of PFC/E2. On January 29, 1968, at the age of 18, CLARENCE E MITCHELL JR perished in the service of our country in South Vietnam, Quang Tri.

WARREN HENRY RALYA JR was born on October 21, 1946 and joined the Armed Forces while in SHALIMAR, FL. He served as a 1833 in the Marine Corps. In 1 year of service, he attained the rank of CPL/E4. On January 20, 1968 at the age of 21, WARREN HENRY RALYA JR perished in the service of our country in South Vietnam, Quang Tri.

MICHAEL MCCORD ROSENBERRY was born on June 17, 1948 and joined the Armed Forces while in MARYSVILLE, OH. He served as a 1833 in the Marine Corps. In 1 year of service, he attained the rank of LCPL/E3. On January 20, 1968 at the age of 19, MICHAEL MCCORD ROSENBERRY perished in the service of our country in South Vietnam, Quang Tri.

FRED HAROLD SPEAR was born on July 2, 1948 and joined the Armed Forces while in ROSEVILLE, MI. He served as a 1833 in the Marine Corps. In 1 year of service, he attained the rank of PFC/E2. On January 26, 1968, at the age of 19, FRED HAROLD SPEAR perished of the wounds inflicted on January 20, 1968 in the service of our country in South Vietnam, Quang Tri.

DONALD FREDRICK PARKER was born on May 13, 1946 and joined the Armed Forces while in DALTON, GA. He served as a 1833 in the Marine Corps. In 1 year of service, he attained the rank of LCPL/E3. On January 20, 1968, at the age of 21, DONALD FREDRICK PARKER perished in the service of our country in South Vietnam, Quang Tri.

RICK DUANE DEEDS WAS BORN ON July 30, 1948 and joined the Armed Forces while in CARLETON, MI. He served as a 1833 in the Marine Corps. In 1 year of service, he attained the rank of LCPL/E3. On January 20, 1968, at the age of 19, RICK DUANE DEEDS perished in the service of our country in South Vietnam, Quang Tri.

STEVE SANDOR SAROSSY was born on August 9, 1947 and joined the Armed Forces while in FAIRVIEW PARK, OH. He served as a 1833 in the Marine Corps. In 1 year of service, he attained the rank of PFC/E2. On January 20, 1968 at the age of 20, STEVE SANDOR SAROSSY perished in the service of our country in South Vietnam, Quang Tri.

GERALD FRANCIS LENZ was born on April 23, 1949 and joined the Armed Forces while in WHITING, IN. He served as a 1833 in the Marine Corps. In 1 year of service, he attained the rank of PFC/E2. On January 20, 1968, at the age of 18, GERALD FRANCIS LENZ perished in the service of our country in South Vietnam, Quang Tri.

Robert D. Cook
Corporal 3rd Platoon, Company A, 1st Amphibian Tractor Battalion,
3rd Marine Division, FMF.