Dear Garrett..

by Ted Bedell,

Here’s the best of my recall on that stormy night (dramatic right?)
I drew the early mission that day with a new pilot, Capt X who had just finished his required training flights with Mr. Haliburton.  I was training NCO at that time, and I was privilaged to be the first TO most new in country Vietnam Mohawk pilots flew with. We had recently acquired IV corps for some of our missions, and we were heading there.  As we took off and turned toward our target, you couldn’t help but notice the huge storm directly in our path. I’m sure some thunderheads exceeded 35,000 ft, and it was so dark under the clouds I could see street lights on. I advised Capt X that we had time, and why not fly around the storm. He looked over at me and said, “Bedell, you operate the SLAR, and I’ll fly the plane..got it?”
Well, he flew right into the storm on our climb out to 8500 ft.  Immediately, we began to get bounced all over the sky, and lightning was all around us. We must have been hit with the lightning because our instruments went out.  We kept climbing, so I tightened my lap belt up and suddenly felt the plane roll over!

I looked over at Capt X and saw that he was staring at his wing indicator which had gone to a level position when the instruments went out. The standby attitude indicator came on and immediately showed our attitude relative to the ground.  I looked at Capt X and hit him on the shoulder and pointed to the standby.  He immediately looked back to the failed instrument.  I figured he had vertigo.  We were really in the thick of the storm. I hit him again and got his attention this time…he immediately tried to right the aircraft.  Now we were heading down like a Kamikazee pilot, building up airspeed on the way. He was really struggling to pull the aircraft up, so I leaned over and helped him as punching out was not a good thing.  We broke through between 300 to 400 ft, I hit the auto pilot, hit the live pilot again and told him to relax which he did.

We were slowing down to regular air speed when I called in to Saigon on guard frequency.  They picked up our transponder and replied, “We thought you went down!” I took up a heading given to me, and we headed back to Bearcat. I mentioned to Capt X that I had landed (practice of course) at the Saigon Ton Son Nhat airport before with the auto pilot, and that if he would brake and steer after landing, we would be ok. He was recovered enough that he took us to our home base and landed.

Because of using guard frequency, practically my whole platoon was waiting for us to land.  Capt X got all cocky again, and said to me, “Let’s get another plane and finish our mission.”  I was insubordinate, and merely looked at him and said, “F— YOU, SIR!  You are not safe to fly with others, and you don’t listen to instruction.” He yelled something about putting me on report.  He went into TAC,  Capt Fluff, our unit TAC officer and our Commanding Officer, LTC Holt were standing there.   After I explained to LTC Holt how Capt X wouldn’t listen to my training instruction, he couldn’t wait until I walked through the door.   He took CPT X into a cubicle and proceeded to dress him down pretty severely.  When LTC Holt came out, he winked at me! (it probably helped me that I was the TO that took LTC Holt up usually twice a month to get his flight time in).

I admit, I was pretty shook up .  I had been in country for over 9 months, and never came that close to buying it!  I asked for reduced flight time after that, cause I was a short timer, had a wife and kid waiting to see me when I got home.

Side-note:   I was sitting in the back of a duece and a half, getting ready to leave Bearcat for my flight home.  Capt X was walking nearby, and I yelled out his name, snapped his picture, and said I always would remember him, He gave me a disgusted look and walked off.

Dear Garrett & Mark,

I have attached a short recollection of my memory of the events of my platoon’s involvement in Operation Meade River in Nov-Dec 1968. A guy is writing a story about our Battalion, and asked me, and others in our company, to write our memories. You may recall some of this from our “Walk through Vietnam” counseling/groups.

Several of the guys in my company and platoon send emails to me occasionally, and our company and battalion have reunions every year or so; I don’t go to the reunions any more, but did a couple of times.

– Ben

Memories of Ben J. Sorrell, 2nd Lt, Platoon Cmdr:

Our platoon kicked off our stage of the operation by humping from Hill 37 on Nov 19 to a blocking position on the north side of Song La Tho River, or the Suoi Co Ca River (I can’t remember which). As I recall, the bulk of the participants came in a massive airlift on Nov 20, but probably there were other units that also humped in to other positions around the cordon.

We stayed in the same general area until Thanksgiving Day. It rained frequently for the entire time we were on the operation. Our artillery, air and mortars had missions “softening up” the territory within the cordon throughout the days and nights. We would hear the artillery rounds, being fired from about half a mile north of us, whistling over our heads and exploding on targets just about 100 meters to the south of our positions. We always hoped that this next one coming would not be a short round! There were occasional mortar attacks from the NVA trapped somewhere south of the river, and less frequently random firearm rounds would come close. We knew they were close when we heard the “pop” of the bullet as it passed…then we would duck or move around to not be so easy a target. On Nov 22, five of our guys were wounded from one mortar round. I recall tracers from automatic weapons within the cordon firing at every airplane that took off from Danang Airport…but they didn’t dare fire up at “Puff the Magic Dragon” flying only a 1000 feet or so above them! As we watched “Puff” do his magic, I recall the treelines across the river just being disintegrated by the thousands of rounds per minute being fired.

On Nov 25, one of our guys caught a piece of shrapnel in his leg from a grenade that went off across the river! It was his third wound, so he left on the resupply chopper the morning of the 26th. My information was that 39 Marines had been killed on the operation to that date. On Thanksgiving Day, Division showed up with turkey and dressing and all the fixin’s, with CBS TV cameras there to record how well we were being treated. But, by the time our platoon got to the chow line, we got the word to move out, so we ended up eating rations again that day. Morale was pretty low that night. We were sent to the eastern end of the cordon, and positioned between two other units, one of which was ROK Marines. By morning, they were gone, leaving our flank unprotected, and a big gap in the cordon!

I don’t recall when we arrived on the south portion of the cordon, almost to the west end near the abandoned railroad berm. On Dec 3, we were at coordinates 000585. Lt. Huesner, platoon commander of 2nd platoon, was wounded when his radioman hit a booby trap. They were medivacced, which left me as the only Lt. in Alpha Company remaining in the field. That day I was informed that all of Alpha Company’s gear had been moved from Hill 10 to Hill 55, which would be our permanent base of operations after the conclusion of Operation Meade River. Around the 5th of December, I recall us finding some tunnels out in front of our lines. We threw some grenades down the hole, and three NVA or VC came out of the tunnel. Some weapons were also recovered.

As you can see in the picture above, the terrain, while being generally flat, had a lot of grass and old rice fields that had not been tended for years, and in some areas earth berms that might be three or four feet high, with scrubby trees growing on the berms and paddy dikes. Interspersed there were bomb craters from months of dropping 500 pound bombs with delay fuses to try to collapse the tunnel system that ran throughout Dodge City. This was all a part of the NVA system to get rockets and personnel through the 7th Marines semi-circle around DaNang.

The next day, December 6, after we dug in for the night, on line as a company (I can’t recall which platoons were on our right or left), one of my squads opened fire on what they thought were gooks out front of their position. I asked Capt. Foster for permission to call in some artillery during the night to disrupt any plans that may have been in the making by the VC/NVA; but Foster thought it would be too risky to have artillery from Hill 55 or Hill 37, which would be firing directly toward us, and a long round might end up on top of us. We did get some light from artillery shells that would eject a parachute holding a bright white-phosphorous candle, but never could see any more movement.

At first light on Dec 7, the shit hit the fan! As the entire south side of the cordon moved out northward, on line, Mike Tyree’s squad was the first to move forward on our front. We began taking automatic weapon fire from all across our front, and Tyree and his men ran forward through the muddy rice field to a low dike that was the only cover between them and the trees from where all the fire was coming. He had some immediate casualties, Babe Pinole being one of the first to be killed, and LCpl Lanny Phipps.

At one point early on, I was standing behind a berm with Staff Sgt Flaherty from 2nd Platoon on our right flank, as we were assessing the situation. He was hit with a bullet and his left upper arm just seemed to explode, and was just hanging by some muscle tissue.

My radio operator was pinned down 30 ft or so west of me; I was trying to stay low down on my hands and knees as I was reporting the situation to Alpha 1, hollering back and forth. Suddenly I took a round through my upper left arm, but unlike Sgt Flaherty, it didn’t hit bone. I rolled a few times to get out of that line of fire!

At some point early on that morning, LCpl Lanny Phipps, Cpl Dan Phelps, Pfc Robert Pacheco had all tried to reach the machine gun position, and all three were killed by the crossfire from several positions behind the gun. The next day, when we recovered the bodies, Phipps had a grenade still in his hand, the pin already pulled.

Sometime during the day, while we were getting napalm out in front of us…closer than I like to remember seeing the canisters twisting and turning as they floated toward us…I was on my belly next to another Marine, trying to stay hidden in the long grass as we were pulling toward the rear another Marine who had taken rounds in both legs. Whomever was helping me took a round that hit both his wrists! Later in the day, I recall being pinned in a bomb crater as I was trying to get closer to the left side of the firefight, but by that time, we didn’t have much manpower left to fight with.

We also had 250# bombs dropped out front of us, and I recall seeing a large piece of shrapnel from a bomb fly through the air and hit a Marine flat in the back. If it had not been flat, it would have cut him in half. Even as it was, he had to be evacuated.

As dusk approached, the firing tapered off and some other unit moved in to reinforce us. The remainder of 3rd Platoon gathered to assess the damage (see the attached list of KIA and WIA I recorded in my green pad at the time). We had lost nine men killed and 15 wounded. I can’t remember those of us who were still there, but I think it was no more than 5 or 6. While we were eating some C-rations, a gook carrying an M-16 ran right up to our position…and we were all so shocked that we couldn’t get any weapons up before he took off down the line to our left. Shortly thereafter we heard several shots in that direction. I learned years later that machine gunner Ron Fiesler had seen him and killed him. The M-16 the gook was carrying belonged to one of our KIA’s.>

The next morning, Dec 8, we got the order to move forward, with some support from ARVN forces driving Armored Personnel Carriers. As we recovered our KIA’s, we put them aboard the vehicles…but not without having to force the ARVN to allow it. We didn’t meet much resistance that day…just some sniper and occasional automatic weapons fire; but the company to our right flank took 17 KIA’s, so this extended the operation for another day. It was late in the evening when our company made it to the river, which was the final objective of Operation Meade River. We discovered that the ARVN’s driving the APC’s had stolen all of our valuables, including my wallet, camera with 2 rolls of film taken on the operation, my address book, binoculars and shaving gear!

Most units still in the field had been taken out via helicopter during the day, but our platoon spent another mosquito infested night on the bank of the river before being lifted out the next day. While we were boarding the chopper, we were taking mortar rounds from the area of the operation!

Here are some pictures of the 3rd Platoon before Meade River. Unfortunately I cannot remember all the names.

Heading to China Beach…around Oct, 1968

Your Brother, Colin McGuire

Dear Garrett,

You have a brother that you care about very much.  His name is Colin.  He is a famous football player, an incredible kicker.  Below is a story about him written by a newspaper reporter.  There have been many articles written, and will continue to be written about Colin and his amazing kicking ability. 

I’m glad you get to go to his games.  It’s extra special that you attend with Amy, your birth mother and Colin’s too.  How Colin arrived on Earth and how we found a family for him is an exciting story.  Colin is the kicker he is because of that family and because of Amy’s willingness to entrust the rearing of her birth son to that family.  Later, I will tell the story of how all that happened.  Below is a recent article about your brother Colin…Dad

By Danny Davis, Austin American Statesman Newspaper, August 22, 2012

At some point this season, Colin McGuire may hear his name called in the final minutes of the fourth quarter.

And Westwood’s senior kicker will run onto the field, meet his holder and face  a kick that he may have made plenty of times before. There might be a  deficit on the scoreboard, or there may be a tie. McGuire may be asked to  just extend a Westwood lead.

And what will be going through McGuire’s head in those final moments?

“For some reason, it doesn’t click that it’s a high-pressure kick until  after it’s done,” McGuire said. “I usually forget that there are  people there watching me. Something weird in my brain, I have no idea.”

Westwood, ranked third in the American-Statesman’s preseason power poll, will  have McGuire as its kicker for the third straight season. As a sophomore, he  converted three field goal attempts. Last year, he earned third-team honors  on the All-Central Texas Team after kicking eight field goals and 48 extra  points.

McGuire’s longest kick was from 47 yards against McNeil last year. He  estimates that he could reach 60 yards without any wind.

“With Colin, we think that if we can get the ball to the 30-yard line,  we’ve got a great opportunity to get three points,” Westwood coach  Anthony Wood said. “He does give you a dimension offensively that we  believe is a weapon.”

McGuire started playing football in the seventh grade, but his career began in  the secondary. In fact, he became a kicker only because he was the only one  on his team at Grisham Middle School who could make an extra point.

Years later, he is the latest in a seemingly long line of successful kickers  that have come through Westwood.

Former Oklahoma State kicker Jason Ricks and current Stanford kicker Jordan  Williamson kicked at Westwood. Justin Putnam earned All-Central Texas honors  as a punter and kicker in 2006.

“Coming in, I had big shoes to fill,” McGuire said. “It’s a big  honor to be the next kicker.”

Wood, who is entering his eighth season as Westwood’s head coach, credited the  success in the Warriors’ kicking game to the relationship between the  incumbent and his successor. McGuire still kicks with Williamson during the  summer, and he will be expected to pass the torch to freshman Josh Burton,  Williamson’s younger brother.

“We believe that the outgoing kicker needs to train the kicker-to-be,”  Wood said.

Like Ricks and Williamson, McGuire also will kick in college: He committed to  Fresno State this summer.

But the Bulldogs didn’t come to Austin looking for McGuire.

In the offseason, Wood sat down with McGuire and his mother, and together they  mapped out a list of colleges that would need a kicker in 2013. Emails were  sent out, and McGuire attended camps at Fresno State, Arizona State, Baylor  and Texas.

McGuire won kicking competitions at three of those camps, and his performance  at the Fresno State camps garnered a scholarship offer.

“For kickers, you’ve got to go to the college camps,” McGuire said. “If  you really step it up in the competitions and show that you can take  pressure, that shows those coaches a lot.”

McGuire and his Westwood teammates are coming off a season in which Westwood  won a school-record 10 games. A 52-20 victory over Bowie in the Class 5A,  Division I playoff’s bi-district round gave the program its second  postseason victory.

This fall, the Warriors return six starters on offense and another six  starters on defense.

“I definitely think our program is on the rise, and there are a lot  higher expectations for Westwood,” McGuire said. “People are a  little more scared of what we can do.”

July 15, 2013

Dear Garrett,

Happy Birthday! This is your 22nd one on our beautiful planet Earth. I am told there are billions of galaxies. Our galaxy which we call Milky Way is simply one of many out there. It’s fun to think about where we have already been and where we will go when we leave here. God always has neat things in store for His children. He is more excited, supportive and proud of you than I am if you can imagine that!

I had this photo blown up on canvass and framed for your birthday present. I think you were age seven when it was taken. We were in Lampasas, Texas at our Lodge. What is special about this photo is that it was the first time you rode your bicycle without training wheels. I have entitled this photo, “I did it – I only had to try.”

We can do amazing things when we are simply willing to try. Sometimes we have to try a lot before we succeed at something. On this day, you only had to try once.

For about three years, I had been trying to get you to ride your bike without the training wheels. You always told me “No”, that you needed them on the bike. But I had been noticing that when you rode your bike the training wheel were not even touching the ground. But you continued to insist that the wheels stay on. No amount of talking would change your mind until one day I got a new idea.

With my new idea, I said, “Garrett, I have a deal for you.” Let me take off the training wheels – and you try to ride your bike without them – then if you want me to, I will put them back on. Quite surprisingly, you agreed to my offer – you were ready!

Within a few minutes I had removed the training wheels. Then you got back on your bike with me standing there to help you get started. I gave you a shove to get you going. Immediately you shot off in a streak of speed – you cut across the yard then down the street. You were going fast and your balance was perfect! This photo was taken on that first bike ride without your training wheels.

When came back from setting your new speed record down the street, I asked you to let me put the training wheels back on the bike. You would have nothing to do with that idea and off again you flashed down the street!

With this photo and letter explaining this important bike ride and event in your life, I am celebrating all the things you can accomplish in the future when you become willing to try. God has placed many wonderful gifts and talents in you. Your talents are simply waiting for you to try them out.

Since this bike ride you have accomplished lots of other neat things. It will be fun to see all the additional new things you will accomplish as you continue through your third decade on our amazing planet.

Love Always…Dad

Dear Garrett.  I remember your first coach.  You were about age five in kindergarten at Zion Lutheran School.  You signed up to play soccer through the Georgetown City recreation program.

Your coach’s name was Henry.  It was amazing to see how Henry coached the team.  No matter what any player did, Henry constantly cheered them on.  When a player made a mistake Henry cheered them on all the more.  When a player made a mistake, it seemed a though it was immediately forgotten — or not even noticed.  It was like they hadn’t even made a mistake!  I witnessed Henry cheer each player out of every mistake that was ever made while playing your soccer games.

I was glad you were on Henry’s team.  Dads like to see their sons nurtured with encouragement.  Henry knew how to truly encourage.  I don’t think he knew how to discourage a player at all.  It seemed against his nature to discourage in any way.

I found a definition of  the word “encourage”.  It means to inspire or stimulate with assistance or approval.  I was glad your first coach gave you that approval.

Henry reminds me of what I think God is like.  I think God only encourages us — I don’t think He is ever discouraged with us no matter what we do, just like Henry.

You were the team goalie — remember?  You did a great job with Henry’s constant encouragement.  I’ll ask Rob to post your soccer photos below this story.