There have been a few Commandants who had been recipients of the Medal of Honor, but Louis H. Wilson was the last. And given that the entire ranks of the modern Marine Corps are currently devoid of any officers with the nation's highest military honor it could be quite some time before the world would ever see it again. His tenure as the nation's top Marine from 1975 to 1979 would be one of remarkable transitions.
The World War II generation had all but faded out, and the Commandant who followed him would, in fact, be the last World War II veteran to serve in that position. 
The nation had wound down from the war in Vietnam, and the Marine Corps was subsequently struggling to reorganize and refit for a new generation.
Who better to lead them through this task than the man who received the Medal of Honor for reorganizing and refitting Marines under heavy Japanese fire on the island of Guam 30 years prior.
Lewis Wilson was born in Brandon, Mississippi, in 1920 and attended college at Millsaps in Jackson, Mississippi. He graduated in 1941 and was shortly thereafter given a commission as a Second Lieutenant in the United States Marine Corps just in time to lead men in the war that would forever define the Corps. By 1943, Wilson would find himself serving in the Pacific with 9th Marines as they worked their way towards Japan one island at a time.
However, his hallowed place in Marine Corps history would be earned fighting for the beaches and hills of Guam. The largest of the Marianas, Guam, was still only 32 miles long and 10 miles wide. The island had been in the possession of the United States since they captured it from Spain in 1898, and it was one of the earliest chunks of real estate that was taken by the Japanese in December of 1941. And on July 21, 1944, it was time for the United States to take it back.
By July 25, Wilson was in command of Company F and was tasked with taking a heavily defended portion of an enemy-occupied hill. The rocky terrain was wide open, providing little cover for the advance forcing Wilson to lead his men over 300 yards through heavy machine gun and rifle fire.
Despite the resilient enemy, Wilson achieved his objective and began to organize for the defense.
Nearby units didn't fare as well as the Marines struggled to organize themselves after the assault. Without hesitation, Wilson jumped in to assume command of those units and began to give directions. For the next five hours throughout heavy Japanese shelling and sniper attacks, Wilson would organize the ad hoc unit for a proper defense of their position.
They knew night would bring the Japanese counter-attack and the time to dig in was limited.
During his efforts to plan the defense under fire, he was actually wounded three separate times but refused medical attention until the task was done. It was only then that he retreated to the company command post to receive medical attention. However, as night fell, the first of the anticipated Japanese assaults began, and Wilson left the aid station to attend to his men.
Throughout the night in the face of heavy Japanese fire, Wilson could be seen racing from unit to unit to support the Marines in their defense. On one such occasion, he dashed out 50 yards in front of the lines to rescue a wounded Marine who was lying helpless. For the next 10 hours, they would see wave after wave of Japanese assault with the fighting often turning to hand-to-hand combat.
By morning, the last of the Japanese assaults were defeated, but this was no time to rest for Wilson. Their current position was dangerously threatened by an opposing slope prompting Wilson to organize a 17-man patrol that would once again head into the face of Japanese fire.
The mortars and machine-gun fire were so heavy, 13 of the 17-man patrol were struck down by enemy fire. And yet, Wilson and what remained succeeded in taking the strategic position from the enemy. His actions were directly credited with supporting the entire regimental mission in the annihilation of over 350 Japanese troops. For his actions that day, Louis Wilson was awarded the Medal of Honor He was about to embark on what would be a long and illustrious career in the Corps.
Due to his wounds, Wilson was evacuated back to the United States where he would recover and continue to serve stateside throughout the rest of the war. Over the next ten years, he would attend various staff officer courses while serving in various commands building a reputation for his ability to organize and lead in peacetime as well as he did under fire.
In 1965, Wilson deployed with the first Marine Division to Vietnam and served as the Assistant Chief of Staff for the Division. After returning in 1966, he put on his first star and began on the road to taking over the Marine Corps as its leader.
On July 1, 1975, he was promoted to full General and assumed his duties as Commandant of the Marine Corps. Emphasizing the need to transition during the post-Vietnam era, Wilson was a champion of developing fast-moving and highly responsive expeditionary units with a single integrated system of combined ground and air power.
These expeditionary units will become the backbone of the post-Vietnam Marine Corps and ensured a group of lethal Marines were nearby in the world wherever you should need them.
Retiring in 1979, Wilson would symbolize the ending of an era as the World War II Marines became few and far between in the active ranks. And while the Marines will always revere their commandants with respect and honor, the fact that your Commandant happens to hold the nation's highest military honor only increases that reverence.
Wilson was undoubtedly proud of his tenure as Commandant, but it was the Marines in the hills of Guam with whom he bled that day in July 194,4 who would always hold a special place with the General.
Twenty-three Montagnard mercenaries led by Special Forces Sergeants Burton Adams and David Freeman moved quietly through the front gate of the Vinh Thanh Special Forces camp on May 15, 1966, and slipped into the early morning darkness and light fog. Like other patrols sent out over the past week, they were hoping to find anything that would confirm a captured Viet Cong's claim that a combined North Vietnamese Army/Viet Cong force would soon attack their camp.
The patrol members moved to the shores of the Song Con River, climbed into small boats and paddled across the deep river making as little noise as possible. On the other side, they picked up a trail heading northeast toward the high, green mountains shrouded in thick morning clouds. 
Within several hundred yards, the trail narrowed and became steeper and more heavily vegetated. The night slowly gave way to daylight.
The men drew their machetes to cut through the tangle of vines and matted foliage. After three hours of struggling through increasingly steep terrain, they found a well-used trail along a ridge. Adams moved the patrol off the trail and called for a midmorning lunch break. Not a word was spoken as the disciplined men silently dug out their cold rice and dried fish.
When everyone had eaten, Adams waved for them to get up, but Dimh Ghim, the "head" Montagnard, motioned the men to stop. He'd heard the muffled voices of enemy soldiers. The patrol quietly split into three groups and each moved out in a separate direction to search for the unseen enemy. Ghim's group was the first to find them sitting in the shade, taking a break on an adjacent trail. He gestured his men to form a line and gave the signal to fire. Within seconds, five North Vietnamese Army soldiers lay dead. Several dozen others stampeded down the hill, leaving behind their weapons and rucksacks. 
The men searched the bodies and gear, and on an NVA lieutenant found a hand-drawn map detailing an attack on the Vinh Thanh camp. His notebook indicated that elements from the 2nd Viet Cong/NVA Regiment would attack within a week. A second document specified that an NVA battery of two guns from the 32nd Artillery Battalion would support the attack. Freeman looked up to the top of the mountain. "Up there somewhere are hundreds of Viet Cong and North Vietnamese wanting to bring us a world of hurt," he said.
With proof that an attack on the camp was imminent, Adams radioed Captain Frank Tinseth, his detachment commander. Tinseth passed the intelligence to his superiors, who notified the 1st Cavalry Division headquarters in An Khe, some 20 miles to the west. Major General John Norton, who had recently taken over command of the division, ordered 1st Brigade commander Colonel John Hennessey to deploy several rifle companies to probe the area where the documents were captured to see if large enemy forces were present.
Early the next morning, May 16, Bravo Company, 2nd Battalion, 8th Cavalry, under the command of Captain J.D. Coleman, assembled at the An Khe airfield to await Huey lift ships. With them was Special Forces Sgt. 1st Class Thomas Welsh, along with his Vietnamese intelligence sergeant and an interpreter. When the first group of six helicopters arrived at midmorning, Coleman and 40 of his men jumped aboard and headed east toward a landing zone in the high mountains of Binh Dinh Province. Soon, all 126 troopers were in the air on the way to LZ Hereford.
LZ Hereford was a one-ship landing zone: Each helicopter had to drop its men and quickly lift off to make room for the next helicopter. In a little over an hour, all of Coleman's men were on the ground. At 1100 hours, Bravo Company set off along a wide, well-beaten trail winding upward along the spine of a long, thin ridge. As the trail narrowed farther up the mountain, the heavily laden men struggled through mud and "wait-a-minute" vines and large rocks that made their progress slow and difficult.
A couple of hours into the climb, the point squad led by Staff Sgt. Jerry McCullough ran into some Viet Cong in prepared positions near the top of a small hill. The point man fired, and instantly the enemy fired back, killing him and two other troopers and wounding four. The company column also came under heavy fire. Coleman ordered his platoons to form a company perimeter on a small patch of high ground and radioed the battalion for support and reinforcements.
McCullough's squad raced back to the perimeter, carrying their wounded. Moments later, the enemy renewed their attack at the same time as a monsoon rainstorm move in, unleashing cold rain. Using the dark, fog and wet conditions to their advantage, the Viet Cong surrounded Bravo with automatic weapons fire from all sides, compressing Coleman's men into a tighter perimeter. Undaunted, Bravo returned fire through the downpour until the VC finally withdrew. Coleman used the letup to retrieve his dead and wounded. He also received a radio message that a rifle company had landed on LZ Hereford during a break in the weather and would set out to his location once another company arrived to secure the landing zone.
At about 1800 hours, the Viet Cong mounted a major assault, threatening to overrun the company. Coleman received word from his forward observer (FO) that two aerial rocket artillery helicopters were on their way, racing through the rain, fog, and darkness to his position. The gunships, flown by Lt. Col. Morris J. Brady, battalion commander of the 2nd Battalion, 20th Field Artillery, and Major Roger J. Bartholomew, both of whom had volunteered for the dangerous mission, appeared in minutes. Guided by the FO and ground flares, the choppers rolled in with machine guns blazing and 2.75-inch rockets firing, some hitting within feet of the company's perimeter. The timely fire support made the difference, and by 1930 hours, the enemy had withdrawn. But throughout the night, enemy mortar fire and probing small-arms fire continued to harass the men and inflict casualties.
Inside the perimeter, 15 men lay dead, 12 from Bravo plus Special Forces Sergeant Welsh and his intelligence officer and interpreter. All three had been shot in the head by a sniper. Thirty men suffered wounds, some life-threatening. Medics tended to their needs while Coleman's men placed the dead in two rows and covered them with rain-slick ponchos.
That evening, two rifle companies from the 1st of the 12th Cavalry landed at Hereford to reinforce Bravo. Captain John Cummings' Alpha Company slipped in during a break in the weather and set out to reinforce Bravo once Charlie Company arrived to secure the landing zone. Alpha finally reached the Bravo perimeter around 2200, after a rugged two-hour climb, and took over security from the exhausted men.
Meanwhile, Charlie Company, commanded by Captain Don Warren, took up positions at LZ Hereford in the enemy spider holes scattered throughout the landing zone. Warren ordered his troops to dig the holes wider and deeper. As they dug, a heavy night fog rolled over the entire mountain area, creating an eerie vibe to the already black night.
Just before midnight, the men heard metal against metal sounds in a ravine below them. Warren felt certain the Viet Cong were setting up a mortar tube. Artillery was called in on the suspected enemy position, only to kill two soldiers in a friendly fire incident.
The intensity of the mountain battle convinced General Norton that the 3rd PAVN (People's Army of North Vietnam) Division's 2nd PLAF (People's Liberation Armed Forces) Regiment was in the area, operating east of the Vinh Thanh Valley with a second regiment possibly nearby. To deal with the threat, he launched a multi-battalion sweep, code-named "Operation Crazy Horse" after the Oglala Sioux chief who helped wipe out George Custer's 7th Cavalry Regiment at the Battle of the Little Bighorn in 1876.
Ideally, the airmobile infantry would envelop the retreating enemy and block escape routes. Under Norton's plan, Colonel John Hennessey would press the attack against the VC 2nd Regiment, moving quickly into landing zones north and east of Hereford. Hennessey placed his forward command post at LZ Savoy in the Vinh Thanh Valley on May 17 and brought in rifle companies from Lt. Col. William B. Ray's 1st Battalion, 5th Cavalry, and the 2nd Battalion, 12th Cavalry, under Lt. Col. Otis C. Lynn. Following Norton's orders, Hennessey told his two battalion commanders to find the enemy and pursue him "regardless of his direction of movement," pushing his retreat in a fluid movement that rapid helicopter mobility allowed.
At daybreak on the 17th, mist-covered LZ Hereford as helicopters began delivering Alpha Company, 1-5, to search the area north of the two embattled companies. Under Captain Nick Waddock, Alpha set out to explore the ridge near the site of the previous day's fighting, leaving its 81mm mortar platoon and one rifle company behind for LZ security. Charlie Company, which had spent the night at LZ Hereford, also headed up the mountain trail toward the two surrounded companies, leaving behind its mortar platoon as well.
At 0630 hours, inside the perimeter on the mountain, Bravo and Alpha cavalrymen initiated a "mad minute," firing every weapon they had as fast as they could, hoping to kill any hidden enemy preparing for an assault. Just as the mad minute began, the VC regiment charged. For nearly two hours, the Viet Cong surged out of the jungle at intervals and rushed the foxholes. Casualties mounted, and most of the defenders were nearly out of ammunition. With orders to "fix bayonets," the Americans waited to be overrun. Then, for no apparent reason, save for their possible awareness of the approach of Ray's or Warren's relief forces, the enemy faded away into the lifting fog.
Coleman and Cummings assessed their losses. Bravo had lost 25 killed and 62 wounded. Alpha suffered three killed and 37 wounded. Thirty-eight enemy bodies were scattered within or near the perimeter. They found dead enemy snipers hanging in some of the trees. Evidence indicated an additional 200 soldiers from five NVA battalions and two local VC companies had died in the fight.
Later that day, Bravo Company, 2-8, carried its casualties down the ridge to LZ Hereford and departed for An Khe. Alpha, 1-12, also pulled out, but it remained at the landing zone with Charlie Company. Warren's men helped Alpha bundle body parts and carried the wounded and dead down the hill to Hereford on stretchers fashioned from ponchos and small tree limbs. As the stretcher-bearers moved down 
the wet trail, many slipped and fell, spilling casualties into the sticky mud. At LZ Hereford, a helicopter waited to evacuate the most seriously wounded. Other medevacs followed until all the wounded were out.
Before a CH-47 Chinook arrived to take out the dead, including the three from the Special Forces camp, Bravo, 1-5, under Captain Joe Beeman, landed on LZ Hereford. Horrified at the sight of so many dead lined up on the ground, the men of B Company couldn't get off Hereford fast enough. They hastily assembled in a column and began a fast-paced climb up the same well-traveled trail into the battle area, disappearing into the mountain jungle.
When the Chinook arrived, it dropped a cargo net for carrying out the dead. Because of the difficulty getting the wounded and dead out, Col. Hennessey ordered a helicopter platform built on the battle site. Under clear skies for the first time in a week, on May 19 the men began cutting trees and brush. A Chinook lowered combat engineers and equipment, and by the end of the day the engineers, assisted by grunts, had constructed a log platform strong enough for a Chinook to land on. They named it LZ Milton.
Late in the evening on May 20, Lt. Col. Rutland Beard, 1st Battalion, 12th Cavalry commander, radioed new missions for Cummings and Warren to begin the next morning. Cummings was to move Alpha directly to LZ Hereford, where it would be airlifted to An Khe to provide perimeter security. Warren's men would sweep the high ground from LZ Milton to LZ Hereford and scout the lower 
slopes between the two landing zones. Then they would move down the mountain on a search-and-destroy mission that ended at LZ Savoy in the Vinh Thanh Valley below.
At sunrise the next day, as both rifle companies prepared to leave LZ Milton, a helicopter landed with a hot breakfast for the troops. Also arriving was 31-year-old war correspondent Sam Castan, who was hoping to write stories for Look magazine about grunts experiencing combat. Just before 0900, Cummings' company started down the trail to LZ Hereford. Thirty minutes later, Warren moved Charlie Company overland in search of the enemy. Castan grabbed a ride on a helicopter, taking some men and equipment to LZ Hereford.
Warren's company arrived at LZ Hereford around 1200, just as the last of Cummings' men were lifted off and flown to An Khe. Col. Beard and his operations officer flew in around 1230 to go over Warren's mission. Beard told the captain to leave his 20-man mortar platoon alone on LZ Hereford to support the company's movement. Warren argued that his platoon was vulnerable; he wanted to leave behind a rifle squad or two for security. Beard said no before flying off. Reporter Sam Castan stayed with the mortar platoon, which was to be extracted from LZ Hereford in a couple of hours.
At 1330, a scorching sun beat down on Warren's company as it moved off the LZ into the dense, muggy jungle toward the valley below. Warren radioed back to his mortar platoon periodically requesting reconnaissance fire ahead of the company's advance, but 30 minutes into the descent, he lost radio contact. The only way he could talk to the mortar platoon was through the artillery fire direction center (FDC) at LZ Savoy.
Halfway down the mountain, Warren got a frantic message from the FDC: The mortar platoon was under attack by hundreds of enemy.
He ordered his column back up the hill. Word filtered through the ranks that the mortar platoon was being overrun. Warren pushed his troops to their limits, forcing them to double-time up the hill. Men lost their footing and some dropped from heat exhaustion. M-60 machine gunner Spc. 4 Mickey Sever, overtaken by nausea, dizziness and muscle pain, questioned whether he could make it to the top. But refusing to let his buddies down, he marshaled his strength.
By the time they reached Hereford, it appeared to be deserted. Specialist 4s Ben Dubose and Mel Lewis raced to a foxhole to jump in but stopped at the edge. At the bottom were two bodies torn to pieces by bullets and grenades. Another trooper, Specialist 4 Ivory Whitaker, anxiously moved from foxhole to foxhole, hoping to find his cousin, Pfc Henry Benton. When he found him, it was too late; the sight of his mutilated body made him sick. Specialist 4 Jim Braga and many of Warren's troopers, still horror-stricken from picking up the body parts of strangers in the battle area the day before, we're unable to look at the corpses of men they knew personally.
With security established around the landing zone, Captain Warren put his men on a detail to identify and place body parts in individual body bags. Most of the 13 dead were unidentifiable. He ordered a search for nine other men whose whereabouts were unknown. Some of them were found at the edge of the perimeter. In searching other areas, the troopers found Sam Castan's body down the hill. Three survivors who had managed to escape and evade the slaughter returned to the now-secured hill. By midafternoon all the bodies were evacuated. (For a detailed account of what happened to Warren's mortar platoon at Hereford, see "Last Stand at LZ Hereford," in the October 2012 issue.)
Around 1730 hours, Warren resumed his company's march to the valley. Midway down, he stopped to cut loose a squad that earlier he'd ordered to occupy a hill overlooking the abandoned landing zone and set up a "stay-behind" ambush. When the squad observed a half-dozen flashlights bobbing through the jungle and onto LZ Hereford, Charlie ordered the artillery FDC to "fire at will" on pre-planned targets. Soon 105mm rounds screamed in, blasting the hill and the NVA/VC on it. The squad reached the extraction point and radioed for the pickup.
A single Huey shattered the quiet and landed. Troopers scrambled onto it, but with such a heavy load the chopper couldn't lift off. The men looked at each other and decided that if all of them couldn't get out, no one would go. They departed for LZ Savoy the following morning.
On May 20, General Norton ordered the 1st Battalion, 8th Cavalry, commanded by Lt. Col. Levin B. Broughton, to commit several rifle companies. The following day, Bravo and Charlie companies, 1-8, departed LZ Horse in the early morning hours and headed northeast in search of elements of the 22ndVC/NVA Regiment that were thought to be hiding in the mountains. Bravo, under Captain Ray Martin, guided along the south side of a stream, while Charlie, commanded by Captain William Mozey, covered the north side. Signs everywhere indicated the enemy's presence. Moving forward, Bravo encountered a large force.
Charlie Company found recently abandoned enemy bunkers in which to hide and fired on the enemy to support Bravo. Fighting continued into the afternoon, but by nightfall, the Viet Cong had withdrawn northwest to prepared hillside positions. Bravo made a wide swing in the dark around the enemy's bunkers and moved up the hill, opposite where the VC were expecting resistance. With all his men in place, Martin radioed Mozey to shift his fire away from the enemy bunkers. As the fire lifted, Martin expertly executed a bold plan of scrambling downhill, throwing grenades into the bunkers and shooting any exposed enemy. Some defenders fled into the night, but at least 60 lay dead. A few Americans were also killed or wounded.
Believing the 1st Brigade was suffering too many casualties, General Norton changed strategy on May 26. Rather than have American forces seek out the enemy in the unforgiving mountainous terrain, he ordered Col. Hennessey to stop search-and-destroy operations and to surround the battlefield in blocking positions while B-52 airstrikes and artillery pounded the enemy contained in the circle. He reasoned that if the enemy stayed in place, they would suffer numerous casualties. If they tried to break out en masse, American troops, augmented by South Korean and South Vietnamese forces, would block their escape routes. Still, many eluded the trap.
By early June, all signs pointed to large enemy units having moved out of the area, leaving behind only small teams to delay and harass the Americans while the main body withdrew. On June 5, after 21 days of fighting in the mountain wilderness of central Binh Dinh Province, Operation Crazy Horse was over.
The last 1st Cavalry troops were airlifted out and taken to endless battles to fight.
Michael Christy served in the 5th Special Forces Group in Vietnam in 1967-68. In 1970 he commanded C Company, 1st Battalion, 12th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile), and served as 3rd Brigade assistant operations officer. He has worked in the entertainment industry since retiring from the Army.
The "Croix de Guerre" or "Cross of War," is a French military decoration honoring people for their resistance against the Nazis in WWII. Furthermore, being appointed a "Member of the Order of the British Empire" by King George VI for services rendered in France during the enemy occupation was a high British honor.
Any man who was awarded such honors must have been a remarkable one. Only, in this case, we are dealing with a woman and a brave and tenacious one at that.
Eileen Nearne, the woman who received these accolades, lived a perilous life in WWII. To a large extent, her exploits mirrored those of Charlotte Gray in the 2001 movie bearing the same name. The film, based on the novel by Sebastian Faulks, features the adventures of female agents in German-occupied France.
But why have most of us never heard of Eileen Nearne? Is it because her missions were so top-secret that information never leaked out? Or is it like many events during the war where some people and their heroics just pass silently into obscurity?
Fortunately, historical sources provide plenty of information about Nearne's heritage and her daring exploits while she was stationed in Nazi-occupied France during the war.
Eileen Nearne was born in London on March 16, 1921, to an English father and a Spanish mother. Two years later, the family moved to France, where Eileen became fluent in French.
When the Germans invaded France in May 1941, Eileen and her sister, Jacqueline, escaped via Barcelona, Madrid, Lisbon, Gibraltar, and Glasgow, finally reaching London. The rest of the family remained in Grenoble, France.
It is interesting to note that Jacqueline has her own remarkable secret service agent story as she would later join the "SOE" or "Special Operations Executive."
Back in England, Nearne went to work. She wanted to serve her country. After receiving an offer from the WAAF (Women's Auxiliary Air Force), which she turned down, she was recruited by the Special Operations Executive (SOE).
The SOE was officially brought to life on July 22, 1940. It was an amalgamation of three existing secret divisions. SOE's primary purpose was reconnaissance, espionage, and sabotage in Nazi-occupied Europe and later occupied South-East Asia.
The agency took people from diverse backgrounds. It did not matter what class, religion, or whether the person heralded from the criminal underworld. What did matter, was first-hand knowledge of the country of operation. And Eileen Nearne was perfect for occupied France. She knew the country well and spoke the language fluently.
Eileen started as a signal operator based in London dealing with secret messages from operatives in the field. During this time, her sister Jacqueline was sent to France as a courier.
Finally, on March 2, 1944, Eileen's time came. After receiving field training, she was flown to a field close to Les Lagnys, Saint Valentin in Indre, France, with a man called Jean Savy. "Operation Mitchel" had begun.
Nearne used the cover name Mademoiselle du Tort. She was also known to go under the alias Jacqueline Duterte. However, her official codename was "Rose."
Command had given her the mission to help Savy set up a network referred to as "The Wizard" in Paris. Unlike similar operations involving sabotage and disruption, this network focused on arranging finance for the French resistance. In over five months, Nearne transmitted 105 messages to London.
During this time, Jean Savy left Nearne on her own and returned to London to report to his superiors with valuable information about the German V1 rocket. At the time, she was unaware of the fact that the same plane transporting Savy also returned her sister to England after 15 months in France.
All alone, she continued to work diligently. At this point, she was helping the Allies with their preparations for D-Day. She also had a few close calls when the Nazis almost captured her. However, Nearne was always a step ahead of her pursuers. On one occasion, when she moved to another safe house, her role as a spy was almost uncovered.
On the train journey to her new seat of operations in the south of Paris, a German soldier kindly offered to help her with her suitcase. It contained the radio transmitter. Nearne got away by the skin of her teeth by explaining that it was a gramophone. She exited the train at the next stop and walked the rest of the way.
But the Gestapo never rested - plainclothes agents were everywhere. Caution was of the utmost importance. When she moved around the streets, Nearne resorted to looking at her reflection in shop windows to be sure she wasn't being followed.
Even this was not enough. Eventually, her luck ran out, and she was caught.
The German secret police used the most modern frequency tracking technology. In July 1944, just after Nearne had transmitted a message to HQ in London, the dreaded Gestapo came knocking on her front door.
She barely managed to burn the messages and hide the transmitter before the Nazis barged in. Her efforts did not pay off. The Gestapo found the radio and the coding pad.
Eileen Nearne hardly ever publically spoke of what happened to her at the hands of the Gestapo at the Paris headquarters during her interrogation. All we know is that it was brutal and inhumane, like many of the things the Nazis did at the time.
However, Nearne did speak about the time after her capture during the official debriefings after the war, which are documented in the British National Archives. What she describes is enough to send shivers down your spine.
Nearne was stripped naked and then repeatedly submerged into icy water, almost drowning her in the process. There were repeated blackouts due to a lack of oxygen. She was beaten, insulted, and housed in the most diabolical conditions.
Yet she never divulged even a snippet of information about her fellow agents, resistance members, or her contacts and assignments from London.
Against all the odds, she managed to convince her interrogator, who repeatedly called her a liar, that she was a naive Frenchwoman.
In her story for the Nazi torturer, she was Jacqueline Duterte, a woman helping a local businessman to transmit messages she did not understand.
It was then that her experiences in a Nazi concentration camp began. Starting in Ravensbruck, she passed through a multitude of death camps. Her head was shaven, and she was immediately put to work. At first, she refused until she understood that engaging in menial labor was the only way to survive.
By the end of 1944, Eileen Nearne reached Markleberg Camp near Leipzig. There she worked as part of a road repair gang for periods of up to 12 hours per day. It was only when the Nazis transferred her yet again that she managed to escape with two French women.
Eventually, they linked up with the liberating Americans, who thought she was a German spy. She was held along with captured SS and German spies but was released upon confirmation of her status as a spy from London.
How can anybody get through something so harrowing? We can glean some insight into Eileen Nearne's ordeal thanks to the National Archives and the information she provided in an interview with the BBC for a documentary.
According to Nearne, when her post-war debriefers asked her how she maintained hope through such vexing times, she replied: "The will to live. Willpower. That's the most important. You should not let yourself go. It seemed that the end would never come, but I always believed in destiny, and I had a hope."
When the interviewer asked her what, to her mind, resulted in her eventual capture, she said, "I preferred to use the old house from where I knew I could get through, but I shouldn't have done it. That's how I got myself arrested."
Eileen Nearne described the Nazi Officer who interrogated her with the following words: "He rushed at me and slapped me as hard as he could around the head calling me a liar, a spy, a dirty bitch. And the other one said, 'We have ways of making people talk who don't want to.'
"They took me into a room where there was a bath, and they held me under the water. You suffocate under the water, but you must stick to your story. I remembered what we'd been taught; never to be afraid, never let them dominate you."
However, her ordeals during the war took their toll. Eileen Nearne never fully recovered.
When she finally came back to England, she was in a state of physical and emotional collapse. She never managed to gain employment. The war had left her badly traumatized, and she gradually disappeared into obscurity. This was so much the case that the government even cut her pension without explanation because they had forgotten who she was.
People who knew her said that she withdrew into herself and shunned any possibility to earn celebrity status and money from her wartime experiences. The only exception to this was when she traveled to Ravensbruck for a memorial.
She once told an interviewer in 1993, "It was a life in the shadows, but I was suited for it. I could be hard and secret. I could be lonely. I could be independent. But I wasn't bored. I liked the work. After the war, I missed it."
On September 2, 2010, the wartime heroine with the codename "Rose" died from a heart attack in her adopted hometown of Torquay in England. Because nobody knew who she was, and she did not have any friends after her sister's death, it was decided that she was to have a council funeral.
It was only when they discovered her Croix de Guerre and received information that she was, in fact, a wartime heroine that the Torbay & District Funeral Service of Torquay offered to conduct the funeral free of charge.
Once word was out as to who had died, people paid their respects to this remarkable woman who played her part in vanquishing tyranny through bravery and fortitude.
Eileen Nearne finally found peace when her ashes were scattered at sea, according to her wishes.
Aircraft carriers are enormously important. They serve as mobile bases for warplanes at sea. They have flight decks for planes to take off and land. They carry equipment for arming warplanes and recovering planes that have been damaged.
An aircraft carrier is considered a capital ship, the most important ship. This is because the Navy can use it to extend its power anywhere in the world. Countries that want to exercise influence need to have aircraft carriers.
Aircraft carriers arose from cruisers that had been converted to carry aircraft in the early twentieth century. They were important during World War II, especially in the Pacific. Nowadays, they are some of the largest ships on the water and carry all kinds of aircraft, including helicopters, fighters, reconnaissance planes, and strike aircraft. They are, of course, enormously expensive to build. When on duty, and especially in war zones, they are protected by other ships.
When it comes to being the heaviest and largest airplane to land on an aircraft carrier, the award goes to the C-130 Hercules. For two months during the fall of 1963, a Hercules made a total of 21 take-offs and landings on the USS Forrestal while it was carrying an increased amount of weight.
The first time a multi-engined plane took off from an aircraft carrier was in March 1936. That craft, the Potez 565, was a modified six-passenger plane with two engines. Could a larger aircraft do it?
The United States Navy tested a larger plane on October 30, 1963. The Hercules was a hulking four-engine C-130 turboprop. It is one of the most versatile military planes, designed to take off and land on rough runways.
The first production aircraft, C-130As were first delivered beginning in 1956. While a carrier that can be at sea for long periods of time, it needs resupplying regularly. The C-130 had just entered into US Air Force service, so it was considered for this particular task. Navy planes are designed to specifically operate from carriers.
They are fitted with arrestor gear in order to not fall from the other side. It also uses steam catapults for take-off.
Today, it is still the tactical airlift of choice, not only for the United States but other militaries as well. The basis of a Hercules frame is used in planes designed for aerial refueling, weather reconnaissance, aerial firefighting, and more.
Planes designed specifically for aircraft carriers connect to steam catapults for lift off and have an arresting hook for landing. The Hercules did not have this equipment. It was chosen for the test because of its cargo capacity and its stability in flight and landing.
The Hercules was also able to fly longer distances than other craft considered. The desired result of the test was to find a plane that could resupply aircraft carries. The Navy was limited with the plane it was using, the twin-piston engine Grumman C-1 Trader, which could fly only 300 miles and had restricted cargo space.
The test flight was piloted by Lt. James Flatley III and his copilot, Lt. Cmdr. W.W. Stovall. Neither man had flown a C-130. They performed 29 touch and go landings, increasing the weight of the cargo throughout the test. Flatley was awarded the Flying Cross for piloting for his efforts.
The Hercules could fly 2,500 miles with a 25,000 lb payload and successfully land. However, it was considered to be too risky. The Navy settled for the smaller and more prudent Grumman C-2 Greyhound.
James Flatley III had never flown a four-engine plane before these tests. After a short training period, he was able to achieve the incredible feat of successfully landing and taking off from the aircraft carrier.
Because of his participation in the feat, he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.
Despite the tests being highly successful, the idea was deemed to be too much of a risk for the Carrier Onboard Delivery operations, so the C-2 Greyhound was developed as the program dedicated aircraft.
The Hercules that was used in the test was kept in operation until 2005. It is now at home in the National Museum of Naval Aviation in Pensacola, Florida.
James Flatley III retired as a Rear Admiral.
John W. "Jack" Hinson, better known as "Old Jack" to his family, was a prosperous farmer in Stewart County, Tennessee. A non-political man, he opposed secession from the Union even though he owned slaves. Friends and neighbors described him as a peaceable man, yet despite all this, he would end up going on a one-man killing spree.
Jack's plantation was called Bubbling Springs, where he lived with his wife and ten children. When the Civil War broke out in 1861, he was fiercely determined to remain neutral.
When Union Brigadier General Ulysses S. Grant arrived in the area in February 1862, the Hinsons hosted the man at their home. The General was so pleased with the plantation that he even turned it into his temporary headquarters.
Even when one of their sons joined the Confederate Army, while another joined a militia group, Jack remained strictly neutral. They were content to manage their plantation despite the ongoing conflict.
Grant had stayed at the Hinson estate after capturing Fort Henry and Fort Donelson. In taking the last, he secured a vital gateway to the rest of the Confederacy. The Union's victory at the Battle of Fort Donelson was also its first major one since the start of the Civil War.
His victory also meant that Union troops became a permanent fixture in the Kentucky-Tennessee border, where the Hinsons lived. While the family had no problem with that, others did - and the Hinsons would pay dearly for it. In the end, so would many Union Soldiers.
Since many in the region were sympathetic to the Confederacy, some turned to guerrilla tactics to deal with the better armed and trained Union Soldiers. These were called bushwhackers because they hid in the woods where they could attack Union troops before fading back into the wild.
It wasn't just Soldiers they went after, however. There were many cases where they'd target Unionist farmers and sympathizers, as well. Still, others were not so politically motivated. Some bushwhackers were bandits who took advantage of the deteriorating law-and-order situation to prey on isolated homesteads. In some cases, they even attacked entire communities.
After the fall of Fort Donelson to Union troops, guerrilla attacks on Union Soldiers and their supporters increased. As a result, it became policy to torture and execute any suspected bushwhackers without a trial.
In the fall of 1862, Jack's 22-year-old son George Hinson, and his 17-year-old brother, Jack, went deer hunting about a mile from their home as they always did. Unfortunately, they came across a Union patrol who suspected them of being bushwhackers.
The boys were tied to a tree then shot, after which their bodies were dragged back to town. There the corpses were paraded around the Dover courthouse square as an example of the Union's zero-tolerance policy toward resistance. The remains were then decapitated and left there, while the heads were brought to the Hinson plantation.
Before the entire family, the heads were stuck on two gate posts as an example of Union justice. The Lieutenant in charge wanted to arrest the Hinsons for their relationship to the two alleged bushwhackers but was informed about Grant's stay on the property. He was also told that the Major General would not take kindly to any mistreatment of the surviving Hinsons, so they were left alone.
That was the Lieutenant's second mistake of the day.
Of Scottish-Irish descent, Jack could not let the murders of his sons go unpunished. He buried his children's remains, then sent the rest of his family and slaves to West Tennessee to stay with relatives.
He then commissioned a special 0.50 caliber rifle with a percussion-cap muzzle-loader. Besides its lack of decorative brass ornamentation, this rifle was also unique because it had a 41-inch long octagonal barrel that weighed 17 pounds. The length of the barrel ensured that he could accurately hit targets from half a mile away.
As to the octagonal shape, it was based on the Whitworth Rifle. With its hexagonal barrel, it could shoot farther (2,000 yards) and more accurately than the Pattern 1853 Enfield (1,400 yards) with its traditional round rifled barrel.
Moving into a cave above the Tennessee River, Jack became a bushwhacker at the age of 57.
His first target was the Lieutenant who ordered his sons shot and beheaded. The man was killed as he rode in front of his column. The second target was the Soldier who placed the heads on the gateposts. It didn't take the Union long to connect the dots, so they burned down the abandoned Hinson plantation.
The Tennessee and Cumberland rivers were major transport hubs, so he frequented both. From his higher vantage points, he targeted Union boats, picking off captains and Officers, as well as disrupting the flow of river traffic.
The most spectacular story of his sniping career was when an entire boat of Union Soldiers surrendered to him. After Jack fired on the boat, the captain thought he was being attacked by Confederate Soldiers. To avoid further bloodshed, the captain beached his boat, raised a white tablecloth, and waited to be captured. But Jack couldn't possibly handle them all, so he retreated and let them wait.
Though he remained apolitical, he began helping the Confederate Army. In November 1864, for example, he guided Lieutenant General Nathan Bedford Forrest to Johnsonville to attack its Union supply center.
Jack died on 28 April 1874 and lies buried in the family plot in Cane Creek Cemetery.
With help from the locals and by constantly staying on the move, he avoided capture despite the massive manhunt for him. His family was not so lucky, however. Two of his younger children had died of disease, while the son who joined the army also died, as did another during a guerrilla raid.
Jack survived the war and cut 36 circles in the barrel of his rifle to mark the number of Union Officers he killed. Union records, however, blame him for over 130 kills - though it's believed that he may have killed "only" a little more than 100.
I would wager that 90 percent of American combat troops killed in action during the Vietnam War never saw their killers.
Whether it was a sniper at 200 yards, a rocket fired into a base camp or an attack from a well-concealed bunker complex, the element of surprise was usually on the side of our enemies. But our forces did have one elite weapon that sometimes took the advantage away. At times, these weapons even turned such situations upside down and enabled us to surprise and take them out.
That elite weapon was our military working dog, and we had thousands of them.
I was a sentry dog handler in Vietnam from 1967 to 1968, a member of the 212th Military Police Sentry Dog Company stationed in Tay Ninh. My companion was a German shepherd named Smokey. I was 20 years old and weighed 135 pounds; Smokey weighed 90 pounds. Our unit's responsibility was to protect the Tay Ninh Base Camp, and especially the ammunition dump. Smokey and I typically worked at night, 6 p.m. to 6 a.m., but we would also conduct daylight area sweeps when temporarily attached to infantry units.
In Vietnam, American forces used dogs for everything from base security to detecting ambushes to hunting down fleeing enemy units. We used German shepherds like Smokey, mixes of shepherd types, and Labrador retrievers that were well trained in detecting, attacking, and tracking the enemy. They were certainly not all purebreds. Most were given to the military by families back home.
The dogs started out at Lackland Air Force Base in Texas with a thorough physical exam. Then they were observed and tested to determine which area of training they would be assigned. Aggressive dogs usually went to the sentry unit. Less aggressive but still highly intelligent shepherd dogs went to the scout school. The Labradors, with their amazing noses, went straight to tracker training. Every dog accepted was highly intelligent, and each became a canine soldier, with his or her own individual four-digit service number tattooed in the left ear.
Dogs and their handlers went through three phases of instruction: drill/obedience, aggression, and scouting. And although it appeared that the dogs were being instructed, it was the soldiers who were actually being taught. At Okinawa, where I met and trained with Smokey, most of the dogs were veterans being reassigned to new handlers. They knew the drills inside and out, and we did not. Our training instructors seemed to take a perverse pleasure in informing us how dumb we were compared with the dogs.
Every dog responded to both verbal and nonverbal hand commands. They loved to work purely for the approval and praise of their handler and partner. And throughout training that special bond was formed between trooper and dog. I know I felt it with Smokey.
Once in Vietnam, these dogs were the gold standard. Search-and-destroy missions used a handler and his scout dog to walk point, out in the jungle, able to raise an alarm about an ambush long before most of the unit was in danger. The dog's handler could determine the distance to the danger, usually by the degree of his dog's state of "alert." Then, instead of walking into the Vietcong trap, he could call in fire or air support to obliterate the enemy position. Not every unit on patrol got a dog; there weren't enough to go around, and in those cases, a Soldier would have to walk point alone. But with a scout dog team leading the way, most patrols were successful or uneventful.
A human nose has about five million scent receptors; a shepherd has at least 225 million. The dogs can detect movement much faster and more accurately than we can, and their ears can hear, even at a very early age, sound from four times farther away than we can. What's more, all our dogs had lived with our American "smells" for years. The scent of the Vietnamese was very different and much easier for them to pick up and alert on.
This scent or sound alert was also true of the sentry dog teams, like Smokey and me. When a dog team arrived at its post - usually just a path around a camp, ammo dump, or airfield - it performed a "changeover." The handler changed the dog's choke-chain collar to his leather "now it's time to work" collar. The dog understood the difference immediately and went to work.
There were also mine and booby trap dogs. They protected our soldiers on patrol from the many and diverse devices set to kill and maim. Take the thin, monofilament lines that were practically invisible to the human eye, which the Vietcong attached to a grenade or other explosive device that detonated when "tripped." A large proportion of American infantry casualties were caused by these devastating devices. But a trained dog could detect the trap, and it would be neutralized.
Combat tracker teams consisted of five soldiers and two Labrador retrievers. Each team included a visual tracker and a dog handler upfront, followed by their cover man, then the radioman and the team leader. Expertly trained by New Zealand's elite Special Air Service in Malaysia, their dogs were initially provided by the British military. These teams didn't wait to be ambushed. They chased down the Vietcong and the North Vietnamese Army forces after a firefight when they would attempt to disappear back into the jungle.
Throughout the course of the war, 4,000 dogs served in Vietnam and Thailand. It was well known that the enemy put a bounty on both the handlers and their dogs. Approximately 350 dogs were killed in action, many more were wounded, and 263 handlers were killed.
When our politicians decided to exit Vietnam - in a hurry - the military classified our dogs as "equipment." As such, they were left behind. Some, but not many, were transferred to the South Vietnamese military and police. Of the 4,000 dogs that served in-country, fewer than 200 made it back to the States. Not a pleasant thought to consider given their incredible service, endurance, and devotion to duty.
I've heard it said that without our military dogs, there would be 10,000 additional names on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial wall. I, for one, think that's an understatement.
Richard Cunningham served as a sentry dog handler in Vietnam and later worked with the New York Police Department and as a fraud investigator.
As the true horrors of the Third Reich began to be exposed immediately after World War II, the Nazi war criminals who committed genocide went on the run. A few were swiftly caught, including the notorious SS leader, Heinrich Himmler. Others, however, evaded capture through a sophisticated Nazi organization designed to hide them. Among those war criminals were Josef Mengele, 
the "Angel of Death" who performed hideous medical experiments at Auschwitz; Martin Bormann, Hitler's brutal personal secretary; Klaus Barbie, the cruel "Butcher of Lyon"; and perhaps the worst Nazi of all: Adolf Eichmann.
Killing the SS is the epic saga of the espionage and daring waged by self-styled "Nazi hunters." This determined and disparate group included a French husband and wife team, an American lawyer who served in the army on D-Day, a German prosecutor who had signed an oath to the Nazi Party, Israeli Mossad agents, and a death camp survivor. Over decades, these men and women scoured the world, tracking down the SS fugitives and bringing them to justice, which often meant death.
Written in the fast-paced style of the Killing series, Killing the SS will educate and stun the reader. The final chapter is truly shocking.
Readers Reviews
Friends of mine know me to be a left-of-center democrat. Definitely not a reliable conservative or republican voter. Thus, they might be surprised at my response to this invaluable educational resource that NEEDS to be used widely in our educational system.
Just a month ago, Bob Woodward's book on Trump was released despite a furious Presidential uproar. Now, Bill O'Reilly's book, released two days ago, focuses attention on the hunt for war criminals following the end of World War II. Mind you, I and most of my generation witnessed aspects of the events portrayed in this book, either up close or from afar. Still, it is an invaluable reminder of what happened after the brutal murders of so many innocent Jewish people and other people due to racial, ethnic, and religious hatred and persecution.
~William Anderson
The most important Jewish mantra from my lifetime and beyond "NEVER-AGAIN!" will forever and always be a life-sustaining pledge! Because of this personal dedication, I can wholeheartedly state that what is told in this book is not new untold revelations. But what the author(s) have done so professionally and intelligently is the melding of multiple major Nazi CRIMINAL war survivors who fled the world's authorities and were eventually tracked down by self-proclaimed "Nazi-Hunters" and the State of Israel they are all tracked followed and discussed in this one book where most books in the past are not as all-encompassing. Of course, there is not as much individual detail in this one book as there are in previous individual books on the less than animal excrement with names like Eichmann, Mengele, Barbie, Bormann, and others.
~Rick Shag Goldstein
The "Killing" series of historical events by authors Bill O'Reilly and Martin Dugard are fascinating, well-researched back-in-time accounts of different eras. Their most recent release of "Killing the SS", the hunt for the worst war criminals in history, is simply captivating. For this reader, some of the story was known, and a lot was not. That around 10,000 former Nazi's were allowed to immigrate to America following the war is mind-boggling.
And, then there is the role of the Vatican and the Red Cross, who assisted between 8,000-10,000 Nazi's immigration to South America. The search for Adolf Eichmann in Argentina was especially interesting for this reader, who had walked the streets of Buenos Aires numerous times and could easily see the city of 1960 when the Mossad captured Eichmann and flew him out in the middle of the night.
Even after all these years, it is hard to come to grips with the evil that the Nazis brought this world. As the authors suggest, one really cannot really come to an understanding of these crimes against mankind, until visiting one of the concentration camps, as this reader and his wife did when they visited Dachau on a dark, cold, snowy December day, that continues to haunt us after seeing the ovens. We pray that God does not forgive these monsters.
It was just not the men of the SS who were evil, but also the women guards at female concentration camps like Ravensbruck. One of those women was Elfriede Huth, who, following the war, immigrated to the United States and lied about her role at Ravensbruck and lived in San Francisco for over 30 years before she was found out and expelled back to Germany. She and other Nazis that immigrated to the U.S. and lied about their roles have collected over $20 million from Social Security.
As with all the "Killing" books, it is essential to have one's iPad close by, as there is no shortage of googling that needs to be done to uncover additional information about these criminals and events. As usual, great jo,b Mr. O'Reilly & Mr. Dugard!
~Robert James Vandevoort
About the Author
Bill O'Reilly is a trailblazing TV journalist who has experienced unprecedented success on cable news and in writing fifteen national number-one bestselling nonfiction books.
There are currently more than 17 million books in the Killing series in print. He currently hosts the 'No Spin News' on BillOReilly.com. He lives on Long Island.
The nation had wound down from the war in Vietnam, and the Marine Corps was subsequently struggling to reorganize and refit for a new generation.
Despite the resilient enemy, Wilson achieved his objective and began to organize for the defense.
By morning, the last of the Japanese assaults were defeated, but this was no time to rest for Wilson. Their current position was dangerously threatened by an opposing slope prompting Wilson to organize a 17-man patrol that would once again head into the face of Japanese fire.
These expeditionary units will become the backbone of the post-Vietnam Marine Corps and ensured a group of lethal Marines were nearby in the world wherever you should need them.
Within several hundred yards, the trail narrowed and became steeper and more heavily vegetated. The night slowly gave way to daylight.
The men searched the bodies and gear, and on an NVA lieutenant found a hand-drawn map detailing an attack on the Vinh Thanh camp. His notebook indicated that elements from the 2nd Viet Cong/NVA Regiment would attack within a week. A second document specified that an NVA battery of two guns from the 32nd Artillery Battalion would support the attack. Freeman looked up to the top of the mountain. "Up there somewhere are hundreds of Viet Cong and North Vietnamese wanting to bring us a world of hurt," he said.
LZ Hereford was a one-ship landing zone: Each helicopter had to drop its men and quickly lift off to make room for the next helicopter. In a little over an hour, all of Coleman's men were on the ground. At 1100 hours, Bravo Company set off along a wide, well-beaten trail winding upward along the spine of a long, thin ridge. As the trail narrowed farther up the mountain, the heavily laden men struggled through mud and "wait-a-minute" vines and large rocks that made their progress slow and difficult.
At about 1800 hours, the Viet Cong mounted a major assault, threatening to overrun the company. Coleman received word from his forward observer (FO) that two aerial rocket artillery helicopters were on their way, racing through the rain, fog, and darkness to his position. The gunships, flown by Lt. Col. Morris J. Brady, battalion commander of the 2nd Battalion, 20th Field Artillery, and Major Roger J. Bartholomew, both of whom had volunteered for the dangerous mission, appeared in minutes. Guided by the FO and ground flares, the choppers rolled in with machine guns blazing and 2.75-inch rockets firing, some hitting within feet of the company's perimeter. The timely fire support made the difference, and by 1930 hours, the enemy had withdrawn. But throughout the night, enemy mortar fire and probing small-arms fire continued to harass the men and inflict casualties.
Just before midnight, the men heard metal against metal sounds in a ravine below them. Warren felt certain the Viet Cong were setting up a mortar tube. Artillery was called in on the suspected enemy position, only to kill two soldiers in a friendly fire incident.
At 0630 hours, inside the perimeter on the mountain, Bravo and Alpha cavalrymen initiated a "mad minute," firing every weapon they had as fast as they could, hoping to kill any hidden enemy preparing for an assault. Just as the mad minute began, the VC regiment charged. For nearly two hours, the Viet Cong surged out of the jungle at intervals and rushed the foxholes. Casualties mounted, and most of the defenders were nearly out of ammunition. With orders to "fix bayonets," the Americans waited to be overrun. Then, for no apparent reason, save for their possible awareness of the approach of Ray's or Warren's relief forces, the enemy faded away into the lifting fog.
the wet trail, many slipped and fell, spilling casualties into the sticky mud. At LZ Hereford, a helicopter waited to evacuate the most seriously wounded. Other medevacs followed until all the wounded were out.
slopes between the two landing zones. Then they would move down the mountain on a search-and-destroy mission that ended at LZ Savoy in the Vinh Thanh Valley below.
Halfway down the mountain, Warren got a frantic message from the FDC: The mortar platoon was under attack by hundreds of enemy.
With security established around the landing zone, Captain Warren put his men on a detail to identify and place body parts in individual body bags. Most of the 13 dead were unidentifiable. He ordered a search for nine other men whose whereabouts were unknown. Some of them were found at the edge of the perimeter. In searching other areas, the troopers found Sam Castan's body down the hill. Three survivors who had managed to escape and evade the slaughter returned to the now-secured hill. By midafternoon all the bodies were evacuated. (For a detailed account of what happened to Warren's mortar platoon at Hereford, see "Last Stand at LZ Hereford," in the October 2012 issue.)
On May 20, General Norton ordered the 1st Battalion, 8th Cavalry, commanded by Lt. Col. Levin B. Broughton, to commit several rifle companies. The following day, Bravo and Charlie companies, 1-8, departed LZ Horse in the early morning hours and headed northeast in search of elements of the 22ndVC/NVA Regiment that were thought to be hiding in the mountains. Bravo, under Captain Ray Martin, guided along the south side of a stream, while Charlie, commanded by Captain William Mozey, covered the north side. Signs everywhere indicated the enemy's presence. Moving forward, Bravo encountered a large force.
Eileen Nearne, the woman who received these accolades, lived a perilous life in WWII. To a large extent, her exploits mirrored those of Charlotte Gray in the 2001 movie bearing the same name. The film, based on the novel by Sebastian Faulks, features the adventures of female agents in German-occupied France.
Back in England, Nearne went to work. She wanted to serve her country. After receiving an offer from the WAAF (Women's Auxiliary Air Force), which she turned down, she was recruited by the Special Operations Executive (SOE).
Command had given her the mission to help Savy set up a network referred to as "The Wizard" in Paris. Unlike similar operations involving sabotage and disruption, this network focused on arranging finance for the French resistance. In over five months, Nearne transmitted 105 messages to London.
But the Gestapo never rested - plainclothes agents were everywhere. Caution was of the utmost importance. When she moved around the streets, Nearne resorted to looking at her reflection in shop windows to be sure she wasn't being followed.
In her story for the Nazi torturer, she was Jacqueline Duterte, a woman helping a local businessman to transmit messages she did not understand.
On September 2, 2010, the wartime heroine with the codename "Rose" died from a heart attack in her adopted hometown of Torquay in England. Because nobody knew who she was, and she did not have any friends after her sister's death, it was decided that she was to have a council funeral.
Aircraft carriers arose from cruisers that had been converted to carry aircraft in the early twentieth century. They were important during World War II, especially in the Pacific. Nowadays, they are some of the largest ships on the water and carry all kinds of aircraft, including helicopters, fighters, reconnaissance planes, and strike aircraft. They are, of course, enormously expensive to build. When on duty, and especially in war zones, they are protected by other ships.
The United States Navy tested a larger plane on October 30, 1963. The Hercules was a hulking four-engine C-130 turboprop. It is one of the most versatile military planes, designed to take off and land on rough runways.
The test flight was piloted by Lt. James Flatley III and his copilot, Lt. Cmdr. W.W. Stovall. Neither man had flown a C-130. They performed 29 touch and go landings, increasing the weight of the cargo throughout the test. Flatley was awarded the Flying Cross for piloting for his efforts.
When Union Brigadier General Ulysses S. Grant arrived in the area in February 1862, the Hinsons hosted the man at their home. The General was so pleased with the plantation that he even turned it into his temporary headquarters.
It wasn't just Soldiers they went after, however. There were many cases where they'd target Unionist farmers and sympathizers, as well. Still, others were not so politically motivated. Some bushwhackers were bandits who took advantage of the deteriorating law-and-order situation to prey on isolated homesteads. In some cases, they even attacked entire communities.
Though he remained apolitical, he began helping the Confederate Army. In November 1864, for example, he guided Lieutenant General Nathan Bedford Forrest to Johnsonville to attack its Union supply center.
That elite weapon was our military working dog, and we had thousands of them.
Dogs and their handlers went through three phases of instruction: drill/obedience, aggression, and scouting. And although it appeared that the dogs were being instructed, it was the soldiers who were actually being taught. At Okinawa, where I met and trained with Smokey, most of the dogs were veterans being reassigned to new handlers. They knew the drills inside and out, and we did not. Our training instructors seemed to take a perverse pleasure in informing us how dumb we were compared with the dogs.
A human nose has about five million scent receptors; a shepherd has at least 225 million. The dogs can detect movement much faster and more accurately than we can, and their ears can hear, even at a very early age, sound from four times farther away than we can. What's more, all our dogs had lived with our American "smells" for years. The scent of the Vietnamese was very different and much easier for them to pick up and alert on.
Combat tracker teams consisted of five soldiers and two Labrador retrievers. Each team included a visual tracker and a dog handler upfront, followed by their cover man, then the radioman and the team leader. Expertly trained by New Zealand's elite Special Air Service in Malaysia, their dogs were initially provided by the British military. These teams didn't wait to be ambushed. They chased down the Vietcong and the North Vietnamese Army forces after a firefight when they would attempt to disappear back into the jungle.
the "Angel of Death" who performed hideous medical experiments at Auschwitz; Martin Bormann, Hitler's brutal personal secretary; Klaus Barbie, the cruel "Butcher of Lyon"; and perhaps the worst Nazi of all: Adolf Eichmann.
About the Author