Lousiana Biker Magazine Louisiana Biker Magazine Mar2016 | Page 12

Platoon Sgt told Tootie, “Here, big boy; you carry this” and handed him an M60 machine gun. He carried it from then on. Veterans of Vietnam MC, Region 3 Unsung Heroes One of my favorite things about being involved in the motorcycle world again has not just been the many acquaintances, friends, brothers, and sisters I have made, but the absolute most special to me has been the veteran organizations and clubs I have had the pleasure in which to be involved. As much as I love the WW2 Veterans, the ones who are nearest and dearest to my heart are the Vietnam Veterans. I don’t know if it is because I am old enough (yes I’m that old) to remember the last few years of the war or if it’s because they were so mistreated and neglected, or both. Our heroes, who went through hell and back for the country they love, came home only to be spit on and called “baby killers”, among other things. Verlon Emmett Lawrence aka Catfish states, “Vietnam was not declared a war, but called a Police Action. We almost did not get any benefits for this. ” According to Wikipedia, this is how Vietnam Conflict is explained: “The term “Vietnam Conflict” is largely a U.S. designation, it acknowledges that the United States Congress never declared war on North Vietnam. Legally, the President used his constitutional discretion—supplemented by supportive resolutions in Congress—to conduct what was said to be a police action. It took some great senators to get this changed.” Our Vietnam Veterans not only fought a war in Vietnam, but so many also fought their own wars in their minds, hearts, and their bodies due to injuries 12 and Agent Orange; only to come home to be treated in this way. I have a lot of friends and family who are Vietnam Veterans; some I have known the majority of my life. Of these, the Vietnam Veterans who are bikers are the ones with whom I’ve become the closest. Despite everything they’ve been through, I see big smiles and hear bigger laughs. The stories I’ve gotten aren’t “oh poor us” stories, but rather joking and laughing; telling the funny stories. Toego with the Veterans of Vietnam Motorcycle Club, Region 3 informed me it wasn’t the bad, but the good they choose to remember. So I won’t be telling you any of the horrid war stories, but the light-hearted ones that no matter how many times they tell to each other, they still laugh just as hard. On this note, let me add that Toego is also the one who said for the VoVMC to tell me some dirty stories. I’m honored they allowed me to be a part of hearing their stories and laughs. I’m especially honored the VoVMC Region 3 allowed me to sit in on parts of their September 2015 and January 2016 meetings so I could get some of their stories. The first time Tootie got stoned was his first or second day in Vietnam. They had been burning meat (cooking steak) and drinking beer at the EM (Enlisted Men’s) Club. He was walking back when he walked upon a guy sitting on a grassy hill and wearing purple honeycomb glasses. This guy told him to sit and smoke, and then told Tootie to put on the honeycomb glasses. Tootie stated it was actually like looking through a honeycomb. garden rake on a tripod and covered it with a tarp. He was asked what was under the tarp and he replied a Rakey; they let him pass. One of Toego’s (1968-69) stories he told wasn’t about Vietnam, but about a trip back home to Michigan for a memorial service where he learned his Uncle Delbert Williams is in the “iconic picture” with President Eisenhower on June 5, 1944 with Co. E, 502nd Parachute Infantry Regiment (Strike). Tootie Ray (Jan 5, 1969-Jan 5, 1970) tells about how he was gone to Breaux Bridge for the crawfish festival the first weekend of May and after a fun weekend came home to find his father casually sitting when he walked in. He looked at Tootie Ray and said, “Here you go, boy” and handed him his draft notice. Tootie’s funniest story I believe is the one he tells about when he was on the helicopter coming in on Hill 219. They were hovering about 5 feet off of the ground while the group was sitting on the struts with their feet hanging off. Everyone bailed off, his heel got caught, and he “busted his butt” as he tried to jump; he cracked his knee cap. Tootie spent 288 plus days in the jungle out of his 365 days. The rest of his time he was either on R&R or in the 67th Evac in Quy Nhan. He was at the 67th Evac twice. (Comtinued on Page 24) In Fort Benning, GA during Jump School Tootie’s group was the first group to jump out of a C-141, which is a big jet for those of you, like me, who didn’t know. Memories of Tootie’s include his first day of Jungle Training. While he was in formation the Platoon Sgt was instructing and explaining what all they would be doing when going on their first night ambush. The Rattler (1969-70, 1970-71) told me about when he was based out of Phan Rang; he worked 9 miles out. He went back to the base to get supplies for the beach, but didn’t know he had to have at least an m60 on a tripod. When he got stopped at a checkpoint he put a 13