VA Military Memories Competition

SSG Victoria Ryan, U.S. Army (1973-1988)
I’d been assigned to West Point for over a year when I met my future husband, SP4 Rodney Helmers, in early 1978. That summer, Rod had a vehicle accident determined to have been caused by a seizure while driving. It seemed like a one-off, and I was not overly concerned. We married at West Point in December 1978 and were awarded government quarters on-post shortly thereafter. In April 1979, we were joyous to learn I was pregnant.

PFC Vicki M. Taylor, U.S. Marines (1980-1981)
On December 6, 2006, in Ramadi, Iraq which was then one of the most volatile cities in the world Major Megan Malia McClung was killed in action when an IED struck her Humvee during a mission escorting journalists embedded with Marine forces. She was 34. What made her presence on that convoy so powerful was this: she didn t have to be there. She was the senior public affairs officer in the region she could have delegated the mission. But Megan believed leaders share risk, not avoid it. She believed in showing the world what our Marines were doing and standing beside them while they did it.

RM2 Michael A. Harris, U.S. Navy (1967-1971)
While serving as a Radioman with the Mobile Riverine Force (Task Force 117), my T-152-1 boat and T-152-10 were “Chopped” from the main squadron to work with PBRs from Task Force 116. We were located at the small South Vietnamese Naval Base at Rach Soi. Our two Armored Troop Carriers were tasked with night missions with the PBRs. My boat would go out one night and T-10 the next. We would depart the small base before dark and return in the early morning hours. This lasted for roughly 10 weeks. The purpose was to interdict North Vietnamese Army soldiers and supplies coming into South Vietnam from Cambodia. It was part of Operation SEALORDS. We also encountered local Viet Cong guerillas.

SP4 David Prevost, U.S. Army (1969-1971)
My Brother Robert Prevost and myself David we were 11months apart very close .I was done with AIT had to-wait for Bob to come home from Vietnam he served infantry then I was sent to Vietnam. Bob and I both made it home then At 33 Bob had his leg amputated Agent Orange at 41 his other leg was amputated they said it was circulatory. I go over to his house I see him on the pole barn roofing ask where’s your prosthesis he said on the ground got in my way. Why didn’t you call me didn’t want to bother you. He would not let anything stop him from living life. Always compassionate and helping anyone who needed his service. Strange our new Pope has the same name Robert Prevost. Bob passed away At 47 I miss him . He’s my HERO Thanks for listening.

HM2 Bill Sheehan, U.S. Navy (1966-1970)
I wish to remember James F. Chase, Cpl, USMC. Jimmy Chase was my squad leader on 17 DEC 68. We were on patrol in Quang Nam Province. He was walking point, as he always did. He had me walk right behind the machine gunner, as he always did. We were about to step up on a rice paddy dike. We all stopped. He motioned to me, a sign language that I was familiar with, which meant stick next to the machine gunner. He wanted me protected above anyone else. I was their Doc, Navy Corpsman, honored to be with the Marines of C Company, 1/1. They called us Suicide Charlie. We were patrolling in Booby Trap Alley, where anything could happen. It did. A huge explosion. “Doc, Chase got hit.” I ran and found my squad leader on his back with multiple wounds and unresponsive. An emergency helo was called for right away as I worked on our Brother. We took on sniper fire as we loaded him on the Ch46. When we landed at Da Nang Naval Hospital, there were eight or more doctors, nurses and corpsmen surrounding him within seconds, but the wounds were too severe. I remember seeing him in the triage tent. I remember everything. I see him every day in my memory, which sometimes fails me, but not this image of my squad leader in 68. I still stay in touch with his sisters in Maine and I go to the Wall often to pay tribute to his sacrifice to our nation. He was an exemplary marine, a brother and a father, but mostly he was my friend. I remember him this Memorial Day. I remember him every day.

Sgt David Adams, U.S. Marine (1986-1994)
I only knew him as Ted, a frail ninety-some-year-old senior citizen whom I had met while volunteering at a nursing home. Pleasant and humble, he mostly talked about his late twin brother, who had been a fighter pilot stationed in Pearl Harbor at the time of Japan’s attack in December 1944 and later flew combat missions throughout WWII. His war stories were detailed, and he told them with such heartfelt emotions and passion as if he had been there next to his twin brother. Sometimes he would tear up in the middle of a story and gaze at the ceiling before saying, “Enough for today young man, go enjoy your day!” His thoughts, memories, and emotions seemed so intertwined with his war-hero twin brother that one would think he had not had a life of his own. I contributed this psychological entanglement to the strong bond between twins and did not think much of it.