"Sharing can be a way of healing. Grief and loss can isolate,
anger even alienate. Shared with others, emotions unite
as we see we aren't alone. We realize others weep with us."
~Susan Wittig Albert

Through our writing, we walk out of the darkness into the light
together, one small step at a time, recording history, educating
America, and we are healing.
~CJ/Todd Dierdorff



Showing posts with label Michael "Surfer" Lansford. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael "Surfer" Lansford. Show all posts

Thursday, May 10, 2018

In Remembrance of Hamburger Hill: by Michael Lansford

“CJ, please post this like you do on your Blog.  I only hope I honored them well.

Sometimes as I write, I get to thinking I could use better wording, but I write what I feel and it wouldn't be the same any other way.

This is the most difficult time of my life every year and it seems to affect me more and more. If people only knew how hard it was up there and they knew the guys, maybe they would see our world differently and know real American Heroes did serve in our war.   
We paid a costly price for that piece of ground and, right or wrong, we stood up for what we believed in --each other and our country. 
Thanks again for doing this.
Michael Lansford”

For Michael Lansford, in honor of his service on Hill 937, “Hamburger Hill”, May 10 to May 20, 1969.  ~CJ Heck


Michael (Surfer) Lansford
On this day, I pay my respects to comrades who fought, died, and survived Hill 937 --or as it was better known, "Hamburger Hill", 10 May 1969 -- 20 May 1969.

 Reflections and Remembrances:

We Vietnam vets have come far, some much farther than others, yet we’ve traveled many of the same journeys and paths.

I wonder myself as I reflect and remember. What could we have been in our lives? What might we have become? How have we turned out? Did those of us who survived make a difference in our world?

What if the ones we lost had survived? How different might the world have been for so many more? There are so many questions and so few answers.

There were battles won, yet lost --in the end, no one wins battles, or wars. We just survived. The sign at the top of the hill asks, "Was it worth it?" I ponder that question to this day.  We will never truly know the answer. 

Those of us who were there have strong opinions about all of it, but through time, those opinions only fall on deaf ears. We are almost forgotten, except WE remember and we always will in our own ways.

A lot of lives paid for that hill. They gave their lives for it and for us, too, for reasons no one will truly understand --it’s hard to explain the change that comes over you in combat when fellow comrades are being killed.

Each of us had different feelings, yet there was always one common goal. Survive and save as many as you could. That's all we could do. We fought on, knowing the outcome looked bleak, with fear so strong we were numb to it, so we fought even harder --all to an end that had no end.

A noted author once wrote about our war, "Some lived, some died, some lived to tell the story." We lived it for ten brutal days and nights, never knowing which one of those we would end up being. In many ways, we will continue to live all of this, no matter what. It never leaves us, ever.

It was always said, "You can leave the Nam, but the Nam will never leave you." They were right. No one ever really comes home. There’s always something somewhere that takes us back, like it or not. It will only end when we pass through the wall and there are no Vietnam vets left, because we are all together again on the other side.

I wonder what an old vet thinks as he sits up on a knoll looking across at The Wall, alone and scared, his wise eyes staring into the past. Can we even imagine what he is thinking, feeling, and knowing? If we could look in his eyes, we would know. From that distance, he can't read the names, but he doesn't have to read them.  He can still see their faces, because he will never forget them.

So I end this page of my journey with a promise I made.  I will never forget my comrades from Hill 937. For forty-nine years, I have kept my word, and my journey continues. I hope in their eyes I have lived up to my promise.

To this day, I am humbled and honored to have been with them through the good and the bad. I will never forget.  Promise made.  Promise kept.

God bless and God speed,
Michael (Surfer) Lansford


“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale




Thursday, May 29, 2014

Coming Home: by Michael Lansford

Michael "Surfer" Lansford
Now each day I'm remembering more and more details of our world.  CJ, you have my humble permission to post anything I write.

I have been thinking about all this all night -- I don't sleep much at nights anyway, so I am going to try and carry this story all the way home, if possible. Mainly, I just hope not to offend anyone with my writings, but it was, and is, the world I live in.

I have been reading the other stories other Vets are writing. Very moving. Bravery most in this world will never know and probably will never have to do. Each of us had our own part we dealt with over there.

Even by writing about it, nothing can come close to the horrors of war we lived every day and most of us were just teens. It's hard to suddenly have to grow up, or else.

Courage was measured in so many ways. My stories are just a small part. Others did so much more. I am very humbled to have been a part of them all. Even now days, at times little things bring it all back. Something on TV, a noise, music from our time, the sound of choppers flying by. Memories we will have forevermore.

Then just as suddenly as we went to Vietnam, poof! We were back home again and to the world it seemed like we didn't exist -- except for the protesters to remind them. They never understood and will never know what really changed our lives from the kid next door, to someone they knew nothing about.  

I was always told that you can leave The Nam but The Nam will never leave you. Now 45 years later, I know they were right.

As we took off on that plane for home, I remember it all seemed like some kind of dream. It was something we all hoped for, for so long and we were finally headed back to the world for real.

Everyone yelled out as we lifted off, but no one said a word going home. We were all in shock. What do we do now? How has life changed at home? Have I been missed? Will anyone even remember me? What will I say and do when I land? We all had tons of questions, but no answers.

The protesters answered most of those questions for us when we landed. I'll get to that story later and with a few in country excerpts to go with it. Some things I forgot, but my memory of everything is slowly coming back.

I remember back then, it was, "Hide all your Vet stuff and never, ever tell anyone you were a Vietnam Vet." That was a real No-No.

There was no one to talk to, listen to us, or for the most part, no one who even cared who we were, or what we endured. We Vets didn't talk about anything, in case some outsider was listening and the fear of all the name calling starting all over again. 

Many a time over the years, others have fallen back on the old Evil Vietnam Vet Syndrome, but it was just an excuse to put us down, so we withdrew even more. 

In my little town, when I came home, most hated me -- and I grew up there. My Mom showed me one letter from one of the townspeople who wrote her letters. They said they hoped I never came home and that I deserved to die there, as I was all the bad things they heard about and not a good example for the community.

She was smart enough to never tell me who sent it though. I guess that hurt the most. I probably will get a little flak about how things were back home. What they should think about is, my family made sure I did not know who all sent the bad letters and said all the bad things -- and probably for good reason.

To this day, if given the choice, I still wouldn't want to know. I changed so much during that time as I'm sure they did too. No regrets, no grudges, no hate.

It's like the protesters, as I see it. They at least stood up for something, but they still should have backed us. Yet they had no clue about war as it is so vividly shown on TV now days. Maybe if they had, they would have seen us in a different light. 

Again, I sincerely hope I haven't upset or offended anyone with talking about my world, but I know in my heart, it is helping me as I journey down the rest of my road of life. If I have upset anyone, I ask for forgiveness and your understanding of the world we lived in that no one ever knew existed.

There are far worse and much braver stories from us all. We each had our own hills, and valleys, and jungles, to fight. Some were worse and some are probably best forgotten. We each deal with it in our own way. The roads of life we all are set upon, but how we travel them is up to us.

We travel and live in a different world than most of the people. It's kind of like a saying, "Time stopped for those of us that went off to our war."

Unlike today's war, in The Nam there was no way to communicate with the outside world, except letters for most of us. So now, as for me, my life has been and may always be two years behind the rest of the world. We can never catch up to the lost time. It's gone forever. All we have is right now, today.

Choices. That's what our world was and is about. We all have to make choices. You have to pick the best one for you and always know you made the right choice for that time. You never second guess yourself about life. You don't get to start over, or hit reset and begin again.

What I am most proud of is my daughter, who understands more about me and loves me more than I can ever repay. She is my life, as is my granddaughter. They are doing something with their lives to help others. That's something to be proud of. We all want our children to have better lives than we did. Mine are in the medical field, in what we Vets from our era called Combat Medics -- bravery I could never achieve.

Guess I'm doing okay for a nobody from a small town no one ever heard of whose only aspirations were to play football, nothing more. Then to leave home and endure a world unthinkable that most could never fathom, much less survive.

No matter what, we all served our country with Honor, Dignity, and Respect. I remember the Oath we took -- its forever. Right, or wrong, we defended America with our lives and NO ONE can ever take that away.

Michael "SURFER" Lansford
101st Airborne
VietNam '68-'69


Other Articles by Michael Lansford:



“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


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