Vietnam Vet Included in Book

COSHOCTON OHIO
Coshocton Tribune - October 29, 2012

Coshocton native, Doug Kempf, is remembered for his commitment to his country in a new book profiling those who lost their lives in the Vietnam War.

Kempf, 22, died Sept. 5, 1969, while serving as a U.S. Army medic in the Long Khanh province of South Vietnam. While tending to injured men in the field, Kempf was fatally wounded by a sniper’s bullet.

His name is one of thousands forever enshrined on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall in Washington, D.C. The memorial is celebrating its 30th anniversary. In recognition of the milestone, All They Left Behind" by Lisa Lark will be released Nov. 1, 2012.

The book features profiles on more than 60 soldiers and photos featuring about 300 men and women involved in the conflict. This includes Kempf, who has a section of the book a little more than two pages long.  Lark said Kempf’s story represents the type of courage and commitment you just don’t see anymore.

“The piece of the story that really struck me is how he wouldn’t take help from anyone else,” she said. “He could have stayed in college, people would have given him money to stay in college, but he wanted to do everything himself. He believed (serving) was his responsibility and he was going to do his duty.”

His profile includes photos of him in uniform and on his wedding day with his widow, CJ Heck. Doug’s brother, Dennis Kempf, and his cousin, Ron June, were interviewed for the book. Doug’s oldest brother, Terry Kempf, still lives in the Coshocton area, as do many nieces and nephews.

Heck, an author, lives in Florida now. She maintains a blog in Doug’s memory [Memoirs From Nam] that allows Vietnam veterans and family members to share their stories and memories of lost loved ones. Lark said Doug has one of the longer chapters in the book, because Heck lives to tell Doug’s story.

“As far as Doug is concerned, I think it’s important to know there was more than just a medic there. As a lieutenant told me, ‘Doug Kempf was our mama. He heard all our problems,’” Heck said. “In his time off, he would go into town and nurse children who were there. Maybe they had lice, or had fallen or had gotten shrapnel. He was always helping someone.”

Heck said she’s never been to the real memorial in Washington, D.C., but she has visited the traveling memorial wall and has seen Doug’s name inscribed there.

“It’s very haunting, but very cleansing as well,” she said. “As you reach out to that marble wall, it’s like a hand reaching back at you. It’s a mirror image. It’s almost like you’re reaching out to touch a name, but they’re reaching out to touch you.”

Lark is a high school teacher in Dearborn, Mich. She said the city lost 23 soldiers in the Vietnam War and every year a Memorial Day ceremony is conducted to honor them. After the ceremony in 2010, she said a student asked to write a letter to the family of one of the men. She managed to find a few of the families that still live in the area.

After contacting the families, Lark said recording their stories seemed like a natural progression and the book project grew from there. She said she used the war memorial’s website to locate family members who left messages in remembrance of loved ones.

“I was just very struck by these young men,” Lark said. “Once you see their pictures, it’s hard not to want to know who they were.”

A portion of proceeds from book sales will go to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund for the Education Center at the Wall targeted for groundbreaking in November. Lark said the center will feature profiles, photos and memorabilia collected by the park service left at the wall by visitors.

“As time passes, we’re beginning to lose those first person connections. The people that knew the men and women on the wall. Their friends, spouses and children. We have a responsibility to future generations to teach them that these are not just names on a wall, these are people,” she said.

llhayhur@coshocton
tribune.com; 740-295-3417
Twitter: @llhayhurst


“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

The Red Jeep

by C David Ramsey

 Late one afternoon, several of us were sitting in the shade of our hanger at DaNang. It was between pay periods and we were broke. If any of us had any money, we all would have been down in the city sipping some half cold beer, but broke we were, so we just sat around and talked.

I remember someone saying, “If I was home, I know what I would be doing; I'd be driving around in my uncle's red 1957 Chevy picking up girls.”

We were all silent, thinking about the beautiful life we had left back in the states. Then all of sudden, John Olinic said, “I got an idea; let’s paint the Colonel’s jeep red.” We all agreed Olinic had lost his mind.

I told John we would all be busted and locked up for life if we did that. John said, “No, we can get another jeep, paint it red, and give it to the Col.”  John Olinic was like Corporal Klinger on M.A.S.H.  He knew where to get anything anyone needed -- for a small price, or a cold beer. Soon we all jumped on board, sharing ideas for Col. Curtis' new red jeep. General Motors would have been proud of our design effort.

The next day, we went to the ARVN motor transport section on the other side of DaNang. We made up some story about a four star Vietnamese General from Saigon coming up and we were sent to get a good running jeep from their compound. I can’t describe how suspicious they looked, but as soon as we mentioned General Westmoreland, they were all too happy to help.

 We also told them it would be sent back to Saigon, so don’t expect to get it back. Again we were given that look. We then told the Vietnamese officer to write down his name because we would give it to the General so he would be sure to get a commendation. Soon he was all too happy in selecting a nice American Jeep for the Four Star General from Saigon. That nice man even filled the gas tank for us.

When we arrived back at the hanger, we had to hide the jeep in a secure work area. Every night about ten of us would gather and start sanding. Soon the jeep was ready to paint -- and paint we did.  We found some red vinyl somewhere down in DaNang, so we took out the seats to be upholstered. We then glued a nice white CO HMM-162 to proudly tell everyone this Red Jeep belonged to Col. Curtis. We broke down the wheels and tires and painted the rims a nice silver. The green canvas was also replaced with a nice red cover.

 

Downtown, we found some chrome air horns. It didn’t take us long to remove them from the owner's truck. We placed a tank in the back of the jeep with an air line up to the horns and a pull string so the Col. could blow his horn anytime he wanted. There it was, we had defiled everything the Marine Corp had established with that red jeep, and it was beautiful.

The following Saturday, we asked Col. Curtis to meet the squadron down on the tarmac after breakfast. I don’t think any of our officers knew about our adventure.  If they had, they would have blown a fuse -- plus our heads off.

Then Saturday came.  Col. Curtis had just finished his morning talk as John Olinic started a slow drive up the tarmac.  Heads turned everywhere and I heard several say, “What in the Hell Is That?”

John parked the jeep beside the Col. and said, “Sir, on behalf of all the men in 162 we would like to present you with this gift.  Drive it proudly, Sir.”

  

The first thing the Col. said was, “You're kidding.” As he walked around the jeep, we could almost read his mind:  Should I admire all this work, or put everyone in front of a firing squad?

 John pointed out the horn and showed him how to blow it. The air tank and horn worked great.  When the Col. pulled the string, a beautiful two-note melody could be heard all over DaNang Airport.  John insisted on a test drive.  At first, the Col. was a little reluctant to get in, but he did, and as he started the red jeep, he turned and started laughing. We then knew our Colonel would be proud driving his red jeep around Danang.

I don’t know what happened to that jeep after we left Vietnam, but I'm pretty sure everywhere it went, it got the same response, “What In The Hell Is That?”

“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

Doug Karr: Mesothelioma and Veterans

Many thanks to Doug Karr for the following article on Mesothelioma, an extremely deadly disease that unfortunately affects many of our nation's veterans and heroes. Sadly, People do not find out that they have mesothelioma until long after exposure to asbestos, sometimes over 20 years, and early detection is key.

Doug is a former Petty Officer Second Class for the United States Navy. He currently writes about veteran health for the Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance.

Mesothelioma and Veterans - What mesothelioma needs to grow 

Mesothelioma risks among the 23 million vets currently living in the United States are high. Veterans serving in the navy who work in shipyards and facilities where asbestos is used face even higher risks of being diagnosed with one of the deadliest forms of cancer. New promising mesothelioma research could be critical in improving the survival rate.

Mesothelioma and the role of HMGB1

Mesothelioma doesn’t have to be a death sentence if it is detected in its earliest stages. Mesothelioma cells require HMGB1 to grow, researchers concluded. Under the direction of the University of Hawaii Cancer Center, researchers learned more about the role a protein critical to the development of mesothelioma played in the progression of the disease. The role of the protein, HMGB1 (high-mobility group box 1), in the progression of mesothelioma is better understood as a result of the research.

Now scientists are one step closer to being able to detect the mesothelioma in its earlier stages. The highly resistant form of cancer is usually detected in its later stages and responds poorly to current treatments available. According to Cancer Research, the protein affects the progression and survival of mesothelioma cells. Using laboratory mice, antibodies were used to inhibit HMGB1, slowing the growth of mesothelioma cells in mice. This extended the survival rate of mice infected with the cancer. This could have an impact on the survival rate of mesothelioma patients, especially among high-risk populations like veterans.

What does this mean to vets?

Like all mesothelioma patients, veterans diagnosed with cancer have a survival rate of less than one year after diagnosis. One in four mesothelioma patients have served in the navy or in shipyards. This means that most who have served in this environment have reason to be screened for mesothelioma. Retired veterans who have been exposed to asbestos are more likely to notice mesothelioma symptoms decades after being initially exposed. Many veterans experience flu-like symptoms and never seek medical attention when they manifest. This means that retired veterans must be particularly vigilant in seeking medical treatment when minor, basic flu-like symptoms occur.

Since most veterans are diagnosed with mesothelioma in advanced stages, the research is promising. It is still important, however, to be proactive in taking notice of any flu-like symptoms to improve chances of early detection.


“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

"We The People"

Thank you to the University of Oklahoma in Norman, Oklahoma, for making this exceptional video.  It had over 6 Million hits in just four days.

I believe the pendulum has finally begun to swing.  Let's keep it going.  Please click on the link and watch:   "We The People"

Many thanks to the great University of Oklahoma for such an outstanding job.
CJ

“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

The Long Journey: Rick Turton

Rick Turton

It was a long journey; 35 years, as a matter of fact. Compared to many, an easy trip, but a long and difficult time coming regardless.

There were times when I was racked with survivor’s guilt, left wondering “Why him and not me?” The first two years or so filled with violent, physical nightmares; the kind that hurt me and hurt others, too.

After they settled into the background, (more or less), came the counseling…long, long hours of counseling.

When I could no longer afford the counseling, I walked away. Not by choice. The subject of Viet Nam was always in the background though, lurking in the shadows, just past my field of vision…most of the time anyway. There was no one else around who knew…really knew, except my best friend.

I was never able to share any of my experiences with my father, a World War II vet (who never left stateside, but still…). I did try to tell my boys about some of the things I encountered.

Then, much later, after helping my wife raise two young men into responsible, and then married, adults came the advertisement that would change it all; “Coming this week-end! A traveling scale model of the Viet Nam Memorial wall!”

Let me tell you, that loosed the dogs of war! They started major hostilities inside my head! Some days, the “Good Guys” would win the struggle; other days, the bad guys would hold the high ground. It took days of inner turmoil, but I finally decided that I needed to compartmentalize a few things and move on.

It was set up in the front land area of a Christian Church in the outskirts of Grass Valley, CA; a gorgeous, tranquil setting nestled amongst the pine trees in the foothills of the Sierra. When you first arrive, you are directed to a parking lot close to the entrance. There are booths and displays set up by several support groups from the VFW to Viet Nam Vets Harley Owners Group. In the church itself, free food, coffee and haircuts were being offered along with prayers and guidance.

At about two decibels lower than a carnival midway, I began to wonder if we had done the right thing! We’d asked my son and daughter-in-law if they wanted to go along with us. They readily agreed. In hindsight, I’m not sure if they knew what they were getting into. We walked along the marked path towards a group of tents. Inside, there was artwork and Viet Nam memorabilia for sale. We walked through the tents and past the artwork, anxious to get to the wall.

What a sight! It started at ground level and built up towards the center, like the waves of war; each section was bigger than the previous one. And the names! The incredible number of names! 57,662 young men and women who gave their all for America! The enormity of the sight brought both my wife and I to tears! She looked at me and said, “An entire generation, wiped out…gone!” We were so overwhelmed!

She made her way back to the tents because there was a desk with a computer manned by volunteers. If you knew the name of someone who was killed in Viet Nam, they could tell you the panel number and line number where the person would be located. Sadly, she knew two young men. A short search and her friends were located; you can’t help yourself, really, you’re compelled to reach out and softly touch their names. Our daughter-in-law accompanied her through this journey and my son kept a respectful distance just off to my left and behind a little ways.

I set off on my own journey. I was just staring at the wall, trying to make some sense of it all in when a volunteer quietly approached me and asked, “Excuse me, sir. Were you there? Were you in Viet Nam?” When I said that I was, he said, “Thank you, sir. Thank you for your service.” He then said, “May I give you a hug, sir?” I said, “Sure, why not?” and we hugged. After a brief moment he said, “Thank you again, sir” and, just as quietly moved off.

As I was trying to understand the feelings that were churning around me, my son came up and asked if I was all right. I just nodded because I didn’t trust myself to speak at that moment. No one had ever thanked me for my service before! A short time later, another volunteer came up and asked the same question; “Were you there, sir?” When I again replied that I was, he said, “May I pray with you?” Again, I just nodded and he took my hands and he said a short little prayer thanking God for my safe return and asking that He watch over me and my family. Again, he thanked me and quietly moved off.

After a while, I realized that something was happening inside me; the dogs of war being muzzled; they are still there, but much quieter. The weight of my shame had been lifted from my shoulders. I no longer hung my head. When I walked back to the car that day, it was as a totally different person who walked out through that tent. For the first time in my life, I said to myself and later said it aloud, “Yes…I am a Viet Nam Vet!”
And I now I say it proudly! “I am a Viet Nam Vet!”

I still do not understand why we were there. This was a politicians war; no more, no less. I learned a lot since that visit to the wall. I may not necessarily support the war, but I will ALWAYS support the Warrior.

“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

Vietnam Memories: Sgt. Bob Sampson

It’s the middle of the night, and I wake up with images of Vietnam in my mind. I've been dreaming --never whole stories, just flashes of memory like a slide-show. The memories are just bits and pieces ...

1967 - Six men lying beside a trail for hours waiting for the VC to come by. And when they do, you're so close you can reach out and touch them, but you don't make a sound. The mission is to count not kill.

Cat Lai - Knife throwing training.

The night we lost a team, wiped out, except one. The next day they brought their gear back to camp, blood all over the rucks. We had to inventory their gear and personal items so the personal stuff could be sent home.

The first VC I killed, up close and personal. My M-16 vs. his AK-47 -- I happened to be quicker…LRRP- 1, VC -0. Someone yelling, “You got him, you got him”.

Lying in the swamp at night with big black leeches stuck all over your body and nothing you could do because the VC was all around you. Needing to take a leak, but you couldn't move, so you peed your pants.

Next to Nolin when he stepped on a mine and being hit with shrapnel and pieces of his foot.

Doing a pre-mission over flight in an A-1 bird dog. The pilot letting me “drive it around”.

Coming back from our FOB and stopping at a bar outside Bien Hoa. The girl in a red and white Mini dress and white boots.

1970 - FOB at Cat Lai, the repelling tower.

RECONDO School. Climbing up a rope ladder into a chopper, thinking, hope I never have to do this under fire.

The 7 mile runs with the sand bag in your ruck.

FOB at the Fishnet factory and the Mud hole.

Files and I doing two man recons in Tan Ninh, planting the seismic and listening devices along trails coming into Vietnam from Cambodia. Because the devices were top secret, they wanted us to go back in and retrieve them after we had called in an Air strike. Not much to recover after a couple of bomb runs from an F-4.

The look on a rookie’s face the first time I light a piece of C-4 to heat up water for my LRP Rations. Chicken and Rice or Beef and Rice -- Good! Beef Hash or Pork with Scalloped Potatoes -- not so good.

My first time at a Fire Support base during a “Mad Minute”. I thought we were getting over run.

Lt. White offering Files and I a Field Commission. Sounded good until I read the fine print. OCS, Commissioned in Infantry, and back to Vietnam as a 2nd LT. Both of us declined.

1968 - Bob Hope Show, Lola Falana. I fell in love.

Going to the club with the Gun ship pilots who had supported us on a mission and all of us getting falling down drunk.

Coming into an LZ full of elephant grass, stepping off the skid thinking your about a foot off the ground and find out it’s about 8 feet to the ground. Not a pretty landing.

Working the Pineapple Plantation and the leaves on the pineapple plants ripping your pants and skin to shreds.

Wait-a-minute vines and Fuck-You Lizards.

The first time I had to crawl into a tunnel with my 45 and flashlight -- not one of my favorite activities.

Last Mission, the intense searing heat from the bullets hitting my hip and leg and then the pain like I have never felt before. Look down and my left leg is out at a 45 degree angle from mid thigh. Me thinking, “Man I'm in deep shit”. Training takes over, tie a tourniquet, inject a morphine syrett into my leg -- yeah, a lot of good that did.

Being pulled out by Dust-Off with a Jungle Penetrator, rounds hitting the bottom of the helicopter as I was being pulled in.

Laying in the Field Hospital. Noise and people yelling -- I was the one doing most of the yelling, every time they would move me. Cold and thirsty, the nurse telling me I couldn't have water, but she gave me a wet wash cloth too suck on. The Doc asking me how many times I had been shot. I didn't know.

Waking up in ICU in a body cast with all my parts in the proper places.

The night I got medivaced out of Vietnam.

Tan Son Nhat Airbase. Receiving incoming mortar and rocket fire.

In the ICU, a young nurse, a 2nd LT, looking like she just graduated from high school and trying to start an IV for a blood transfusion. Every time a round exploded she would jump. Tears were running down her cheeks and she keep telling me “I'm sorry, I'm sorry”. Finally another nurse pushed her aside and hit the vein the first time.

Hospital in Japan, triple amputee next to me. When he wasn't crying he was screaming. Guy’s on the ward yelling at him to shut the fuck up!

Letterman Army Hospital. Surgery after surgery. Six months without a pass. My Physical Therapist decided to help me go AWOL, at least for one night. Getting me out of the Hospital in a full body cast not much of problem, but not so easy getting me into her VW Bug. Mission accomplished.

Just some of the bits and pieces of memories from Vietnam ...

Sgt. Bob Sampson
71st LRRP 1967/68 RVN
M Company 75th RANGER 1969/70 RVN


***Thank you for your service, Bob, and for sharing.  Welcome Home. 

With much respect,

CJ

“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