Khe Sanh Veterans Association Inc.

Red Clay
Newsletter of the Veterans who served at Khe Sanh Combat Base,
Hill 950, Hill 881, Hill 861, Hill 861-A, Hill 558
Lang-Vei and Surrounding Area

Issue 55     Spring 2003

Short Rounds

Home

In This Issue
Notes from Editor and Staff     Web Briefs     Incoming     Memoirs
In Memoriam     A Sprinkling Of Your Poetry

by Dave Macedonia 

On a return visit to Vietnam in March 2002,1 had an experience that changed my life forever. As a Vietnam Veteran who served with the 101st Airborne Division during Lam Son 719 along the DMZ, I have always wanted to go back to Vietnam and explore sites where I had served. However, the highlight of my trip did not happen in those areas. It happened after my DMZ Tour in a place called Hoa Binh, in what we knew as North Vietnam.

Ed Henry and Gary Jones had taken me along as they visited some old French battlefields northwest of Hanoi. They were exploring possible sites for future group tours for Military Historical Tours based out of Alexandria, Virginia. As we visited the Hoa Binh Dam and hydroelectric site, an older Vietnamese man approached me and seemed to be very upset. He was irritated and made arm movements to indicate he was disturbed about something. I asked my guide Hiep, why the gentleman was so upset. He explained the old fellow was distressed because he wanted to talk to me but he did not speak English. Hiep and I followed the gentleman under a structure that served as a cafe. Hiep entered a large group of Vietnamese and came back with the small statured gentleman. He seemed nervous but wanted to ask me some questions. With Hiep serving as the interpreter, the old man began to ask me questions. Was I an American? Did I serve in the war? Who did I serve with?

When the man heard I served with 101st Airborne Division and the 75th Rangers, he became very excited and started saying "101 Ranger, 101 Ranger." He ran around to different tables and began pulling on other men and bringing them to me. Questions about when I served and in which specific areas followed. As only Fate would have it, the man, Tran Van Long, and the three other men who stood before me were former North Vietnamese Army soldiers. We had all served in the same area of operations near the Rockpile and Khe Sanh, during the exact same times. All seemed delighted at this unique meeting. I was amazed at the welcoming by these former enemy soldiers. There I stood hugging and holding hands with the enemy. There was no animosity, no anger, and no grudges. As a soldier, I watched and participated in the hunting of these soldiers. I saw them wounded, shot, ambushed, bombed, napalmed, and treated as animals. They were the individuals we wanted to kill, and visa versa. Here we stood, treating each other like long lost friends. The scene generated total respect.

As we attempted to leave the area to continue our tour, Trang addressed our group. He stated, "It was good that old warriors met here today. His only wish was that our countries could become friends as we have become friends." He also said "that we all did what our countries asked of us and most of the time, none of us liked it. But the war has been over a long time, and now we should live in peace."

I left Hoa Binh a better person that day. My war had come full circle. I had renewed my tremendous respect for these North Vietnamese Army soldiers. We Americans have no idea what they have endured in their lifetimes. They are truly special people.

 *****

by Nick Romanetz 

Nick Romanetz just received the following update on the proposed Marine Corps Museum from Kenneth Smith-Christmas, Curator of Material History USMC Museums Division who is our point of contact. 

Just back from Boston today from a meeting with our exhibits designers and read your information. Thank you so much for the offer to acquire items for this exhibit. The scene (Khe Sanh) was suggested by Colonel Joe Alexander and represents Captain Dabney's defense of Hill 88I S. It basically consists of the visitor walking through the fuselage of a CH-46 and out the back ramp into a fire base setting, in which the artifacts and scenarios are necessarily compressed. We know that we will have an Ml 01105mm howitzer and a 106mm recoilless rifle in the scene. Any of the uniform items and 782 gear on the figures (and we have not yet determined how many and which positions they will be in), and associated equipment will be "consumables," as the methods used in constructing the figures will destroy the items as artifacts. We would never use donated artifacts with actual provenance for these open scenes. However, I am certain that we will need individual artifacts to support the story of Khe Sanh in the traditional cased exhibits.

 If your colleagues would send us a listing of those items that they would consider donating, we could identify those items that would best support the storyline. I am furiously reading up on the subject now, as I need to know all of the detailed info to help me stage the scene. Again, thank you so much for the offer and your interest.

The recent publication of The Marine Corps Heritage Foundation newsletter Legacy published the following: 

"EXHIBIT PLAN TAKES SHAPE, WILL PROVIDE ULTRA-REALISTIC VISITOR EXPERIENCE" 

Exhibit designers are hard at work planning the exhibitory for the National Museum of the Marine Corps. The core objectives of the exhibit plan are to depict American history through the eyes of Marines, and to help the public understand what it means to be a Marine. The plan calls for the use of numerous, modern-day exhibitory techniques and will feature as its centerpiece three major "immersion" galleries.

These galleries, which combine artifacts and display technology with controlled environmental conditions, will immerse visitors in ultra realistic recreations in critical moments in

Marine Corps history. The three immersion galleries will constitute the major exhibits of the

National Museum on opening day, and focus on Marine Corps actions during World War II, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War.

The exhibit master plan calls for several other major galleries in the years following the museum opening. After walking through the dramatic central atrium, visitors will view a short, introductory orientation film about the Corps and its history before they move into the main exhibit space. As they exit the orientation theatre, visitors will find themselves in a replica of a recruiting station, from which they will move aboard a bus, the windows of which are television screens that transmit oral histories of individual Marines who are recounting what they felt on the verge of their boot camp experience. As visitors step down from the bus, they find themselves standing astride the famed "yellow footprints," familiar to all who have been through boot camp. Suddenly, they will hear the dreaded roar of a drill instructor issuing the first of many instructions and commands to come! Other important aspects of the boot camp experience will also be recreated faithfully. Following this induction, visitors will be able to move freely in the exhibit area, which will be rich in educational experiences for young and old alike. Those who have plenty of time can spend a full day or more, exploring the three immersion galleries, viewing numerous vignettes and tableaus, examining priceless artifacts and exploring the colorful stories of Marine lore. For those with limited time, the exhibit design concept also includes a concise, but authoritative "fast track" experience that highlights essential elements of Marine Corps history. Visit http://www.usmcmuseum.org for up-to-the-minute information to include the latest technology in taking a virtual tour of the exterior and interior of the building design. If you think you have artifacts you would like to donate, contact Ken Smith-Christmas. I will keep the membership updated on this project as information becomes available.

Kenneth L. Smith-Christmas
Curator of Material History Headquarters
United States Marine Corps Museums Branch
Marine Corps History and Museums Division

2014 Anderson Avenue
Quantico, VA 22134 -5002

Tel: (703) 784-2607
Fax: (703) 784-5856

Email: [email protected]

 *****

Six Clicks in the Sticks
by David Powell 

It was the hottest day I can remember in Vietnam. It started hot in another way when the first thing in the morning while standing around waiting to move out with three other guys, we heard the sound of rounds sizzling past our heads along with the cracking sound they sometimes made. It is remarkable how fast facial expressions can change. From a look of casual conversation to the look "someone is trying to kill me." Two radically different emotional states in a split second. When I think back on it now, we all took it rather casually. I say that because if that happened to me today I would probably have to go to bed for a week to recover. It was only a short burst and then nothing. Shortly thereafter, the word came down that two squads were to go on ahead to a bridge by a village and wait there for the rest of the company to catch up. I asked the platoon Sergeant how far the bridge was, he said about six clicks. He was a friend who was KIA a short time later. I asked if I could tag along, and he said yes.

Including me, we had about twelve guys. We were about halfway there and already soaking wet with perspiration and short of water. I looked straight up and the sun was so bright it was blinding with a brilliant ring of light encircling it. I had never seen that kind of atmospheric halo effect ever before. It seemed like the sky close to the sun was catching on fire. We were making pretty good time moving over rolling hills covered with trees or dense high brush with occasional open terrain. Moving in a staggered file we came upon a small abandoned temple. It was a good spot to take a break. I wandered into the temple. It had a small door and a couple of small windows. The temple was empty except for junk and debris scattered around the dirt floor. Two guys came through the door behind me and we picked out our spots and sat down. I leaned back against a pile of broken furniture and pots. It was quiet, dark, and cool. We were sucking it up. There was a tom-tom-like drum lying in the dirt near me and near it some-thing that looked like a drumstick. I picked up the drum and the stick, put the drum between my legs, and starting beating out a cross between an Indian war dance beat and a belly dance kind of rhythm that you always heard in the movies.

The sound of the drum echoing around that space was weird. All of a sudden this great big kid with an M-60 resting over his right shoulder bursts through the door and started moving towards us twisting and gyrating and doing version of a belly dance to the drum beat. I started beating the drum faster and he was dancing with the machine gun ammo draped around his neck and shoulders, the sweat dripping down his big smiling face. We were all laughing. When he flopped down on the ground all four of us just sat there in silence. It seemed even quieter after the noise of the drum. Outside we heard someone say, "OK, we're moving out." Everyone got up without a word and moved towards the door that would take us back out into the bright hot reality of Vietnam.

 *****

A Khe Sanh Seabee's Pilgrimage
From Khe Sanh to Hachita, New Mexico

 by Jim Dawdy

 Dedicated to Christine Blanksma, in memory of her father. Captain Earle L. Bjorke, USAF, KIA, 15 October 1967, Khe Sanh, RVN.

 At the 2002 Khe Sanh Veterans Reunion in Dallas, an event my wife and I thoroughly enjoyed, I purchased a copy of Billy Roble's book "Just One." In the week after returning home, I read it cover to cover. It is a sad but enriching tale of a young man's quest to know about the brother he was too young to remember and of the men to which his brother will forever be "Eternally Bonded."

Having been to only one other veteran's reunion or convention, the Khe Sanh Veteran's 1993 Reunion in Washington, D.C., which I thought was rather intense, I found the 2002 reunion to be both refreshing and rejuvenating. It was great to meet so many old warriors and their families.

I have never considered my participation in the events at Khe Sanh to be heroic. I was just there to fix the runway. And while I had to pull many nights in a muddy foxhole on the Company "A" 3rd Anti-Tank Battalion section of the perimeter, I was not heroic. In the words spoken by Medal of Honor recipient Don "Doc" Ballard in his very eloquent address, I was on occasion "scared to death." During my time there, it was mostly quiet. In the minds of a Marine engineer and a Seabee together in a foxhole on a moonlit night, a clump of trees can become an enemy tank (to which I quite erroneously responded "The NVA ain't got no tanks this far south." A tree stump becomes an enemy sapper who has silently breached the wire. And further out the elephant grass moving in a breeze can become a company of NVA whose sole purpose in life is to kill the two of us, mainly me.

I read in Billy's book about the 30 years it took to honor his brother with the Bronze Star for Valor. I read in other publications of the gallantry of so many of those who attended this year's reunion, as well as accounts of other members who weren't fortunate enough to be able to attend. I came to this year's reunion with the words spoken by General Eisenhower after World War II ringing in my ears:

"A measure of humility must be a part of any man who receives accolades earned at the cost of the blood and lives of others."

After reading Billy's book and attending the reunion, I found myself thinking about these things more than I ever had in the past. A small tornado of memories and thoughts swirled in my mind. It is as though we are engaged in a kind of "Quest" for the Holy Grail, much like that of which the legend of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table teaches us. My wife, a voracious reader, admonishes me that the real lesson of the tale lies not in the finding of the Grail, but in the "Quest" itself. Perhaps Billy Roble might agree.

And so it was with this background that on August 31, 2002 (our 34th wedding anniversary) I began a brief "pilgrimage" to the small, isolated, southwestern New Mexico village of Hachita. In 1901, my wife's great grandparents had homesteaded south of the village in what is known as the "Boot heel" of New Mexico and had taken refuge in the small cemetery at Hachita the day of the infamous raid by Pancho Villa's troops on Columbus, New Mexico in March 1916. Nineteen Americans were killed.

We had visited the cemetery in 1997 and in one of the family plots surrounded by an impressive wrought iron fence were three graves. One was of a Civil War Confederate veteran of the Georgia Cavalry who lived to the age of 80 years. Next to him was the grave of a Spanish-American War veteran who died at the age of 63. But it was the last of the three graves that had motivated my small pilgrimage, for I knew that upon the headstone of this 22-year-old soldier who was killed in July, 1918 — a few months before the end of World War I - were words that would provide something of an explanation to some of the questions that had been eating at my insides for over 30 years.

Why do I still suffer from the rage, despair and hatred I felt, and the darkness which at that moment filled my soul, for the Air Force Captain whose body I helped place in a body bag after he died so bravely when his plane crashed on the red clay of the Khe Sanh plateau?

Why, after so many years, am I alone burdened with the terrible and at times almost crushing weight of feeling an obligation to somehow give value to his sacrifice and meaning to his death?

Why do I struggle with the thought, as I touched his arm after the life force had flowed out of him, that some better part of him had become a permanent part of myself and that much of whatever good I may have accomplished in my life was in fact due in considerable measure to him?

The war has been over for almost 30 years. The bunkers and hooches, the spent 105and 106 casings, the vehicles and planes have all been eroded by time and the elements, or salvaged by the Vietnamese. Yet, I suspect that within each man and each woman who served or had a loved one die or disabled in the war, a battle is still being fought and will continue to be fought all of their days.

Many questions have been generated by the war: Was it wise or unwise, moral or immoral, a noble sacrifice for America, or a squandering of youth and a loss of innocence? There seems to be no definitive consensus as to the answers to these questions. The only meaningful explanation, at least for myself, is written on the headstone of that WW I soldier interred at Hachita, New, Mexico. Words which are applicable in tens of thousands of homes in America and in hundreds of thousands of homes in Vietnam:

A LOVED ONE FROM US HAS GONE

A VOICE WE LOVE IS STILLED

A PLACE IS VACANT AT OUR TABLE

WHICH NEVER CAN BE FILLED.

 *****

Marines at Khe Sanh 1970
Lam Son 719 

by James "Jimbo" Wodecki

I never knew this but Marines participated in Operation Lam Son 719, and were also planning an attack on North Vietnam with 3/9 at Khe Sanh. Of all the Marine aviators who participated in Lam Son 719, the helicopter pilots and crews of HMH-463 and HML-367 came under the heaviest enemy fire and played the most indispensable role. Operation Lam Son 719 was founded on the U.S.-developed tactics of leapfrogging troops and artillery into a series of fire support bases. Marines established their own forward operating base at Landing Zone Kilo, two miles south of the Khe Sanh airfield. Marines from other truck companies and from the 1st Engineer Battalion, the 1st Shore Party Battalion, Force Logistic Command, the 1st Marine Division Headquarters Battalion, and the 1st MAW Marine communicators also operated at Khe Sanh and Vandegrift during Lam Son 719. The Ra-dio/Supporting Arms Platoon, Communications Company, Headquarters Battalion, 1st Marine Division had the mission of keeping both the truck company and wing elements in contact with their parent headquarters in Da Nang.

North invasion plans 1971

From 5-10 February, a task group remained at sea near Da Nang preparing for its mission. By the 7th, the staffs of the 31st MAU and BLT 3/9 had completed plans for the diversion which was to be a helicopter-borne raid on the airfield at Vinh, about 150 miles north of the Demilitarized Zone. The Marines prepared a full operation plan for an attack by two companies of BLT 3/9. The companies were to go ashore by helicopter, seize and demolish the airfield, and withdraw to the ships within 24 hours. The operation order, prepared jointly by the Marine and Navy staffs, included all the usual annexes for air and naval gunfire support, communications, logistics, and intelligence and provided elaborate procedures for withdrawing the raiding companies by boat, if helicopters could not extract them.

After completing the plans, the MAU conducted a communications exercise in rehearsing the planned feint. It also landed 4,000 pounds of explosives and detonating equipment furnished by III MAF and arranged with the 1st MAW to furnish Cobra gun-ships to reinforce HMM-165 if necessary. The gun-ships were to remain on call at Da Nang, ready to fly on board the USS Iwo Jima (LPH 2) on short notice.

On 11 February 1971, Task Group 76.4 headed north from Da Nang into the Gulf of Tonkin. Few of the Marines on board knew the actual purpose of their mission. In HMM-165, for example, only the commanding officer and his executive and operations officers had been fully briefed on the plan, and even they were not told that it was a feint until long after sailing. Until then, the executive officer Lieutenant Colonel Jon R. Robson recalled, "we...firmly believed that we might have to go in and try and take Vinh with a battalion of Marines." Marines in both the squadron and the battalion realized that they were preparing for an amphibious raid of some sort and as the ships steamed steadily northward hour after hour, they realized the main objective would be somewhere in North Vietnam. Both air and ground Marines, therefore, readied themselves for their parts of the mission "with all the fears and anxieties.-.of actually going in and performing the mission as briefed, as little as that was.

On 3 February, Lieutenant General Sutherland, the XXIV Corps Commander, also proposed to MACV an elaborate diversion plan, again involving amphibious forces; this plan was set aside in favor of the Cine Pac plan, which then was already being implemented. Sutherland message to Gen Abrams, dated 03 Feb 71, and Abrams message to Sutherland, dated 04 Feb 71. (Copies in MCHC).

BLT 3/9 was made up of the entire 3rd Battalion, 9th Marines with the following units attached:

Battery F, 2nd Battalion, 12th Marines; 1st Platoon,
Company D, 3rd Reconnaissance Battalion; 2d Platoon,
Company B, 1st AmTrac Battalion; 1st Platoon,
Company A, 3rd Shore Party Battalion; 2d Platoon,
Company A, 3rd Motor Transport Battalion; 2nd Platoon,
Company B, 3rd Tank Battalion; 3rd Platoon,
Company A, 3rd Engineer Battalion; 2nd Platoon,
Company B, 3rd Medical Battalion; and detachments from the
3rd Service Battalion and 3rd Dental Company.

The vessels of the ARG were: USS Tulare (LKA 112), USS Iwo lima (LPH-2), USS Cleveland (LPD-7), and USS Westchester County (LST 1167).

*****

 First Day at C-2
by Bob McLane

I spent the afternoon on a working party filling sandbags. Later, the gunny made us put up a volleyball net. We had to dig holes in the rock hard ground with a pick. We took turns swinging the pick. After the first hole was finished, I tossed my flak jacket and my helmet on the ground, followed by my T-shirt. They were a lot more casual around here about stuff like saluting and dress codes than the idiots back at Dong Ha. I liked that. Suddenly, a huge explosion showered everyone with chunks of dirt and we were covered in a cloud of dust and smoke. I dove down beside some sandbags. I had heard about guys that had gotten hit and in the excitement they didn't realize it right away. Quickly I ran my hand up and down my arms and legs as I did a roll call of all my vital parts. Everything looked OK until I ran my right hand over my left arm. I was amazed to see my hand was covered in my blood. It came from a small hole about halfway between my elbow and shoulder. I never felt it. As I lay beside the sandbags I

realized it was not much more than a scratch, the kind the Lone Ranger used to get every Saturday. I started laughing. Some of Ho Chi Minh's arty boys had just tried to kill me. Although that was my blood running down my arm, I wasn't really hurt that bad. I wasn't even upset. Strangely, I felt happy.

Unlike our American shells, there is no symmetry to the shape and size of the Russian hot steel that flew past my arm. I'll never know how big or small the piece of shrapnel was that nicked my arm. Luck in the DMZ was measured in inches. My celebration was short as I looked over and saw a young Marine lying on the ground near me. He was unconscious and bleeding from his nose and ears. I helped some of the other Marines carry him over to the LZ while the radio operator called Dong Ha for a dustoff. Two other Marines were also hit by the same shell. While we waited for the medevac, the corpsman administered morphine and stopped the bleeding on the wounded Marines. He bandaged their injuries. In about twenty minutes, a helicopter came to pick up the casualties. My arm had stopped bleeding. I went back to digging my hole. Now I had my flak jacket back on. Guys came around to see where I had got-ten hit. They stared at my arm. I tried to be cool about it, but I was on cloud nine. I felt like Tom Sawyer showing off a new black eye. Rail saw the wound on my arm, "Well Bro, you ain't a new guy no more."

***** 

by Jim Wodecki

On 06 March 2003, Ray Addington and I attended the local Metro/Plex Marines luncheon in Dallas, Texas. It was attended by active, reserve and old retreads from WWII, Korea, Vietnam, Desert Storm, and those Marines getting ready for war. The owner of Paul's Steak House, often frequented by Marines, hosts the banquet once a month. As our special guests, we invited Mr. Ray Morris and his son Tray Morris III, age 10, to accept a donation on behalf of the Khe Sanh Veterans. Major General Mulberry, who presented the first "DOC Medal" at our KSV reunion last summer, and Major General Christopher Cortez, C/0 MC Recruiting, were our guest speakers.

The Khe Sanh Veterans Organization donated $500.00 this year to the Local Chapter of the Young Marines Big "D" Chapter of the Marine Corps League. Working with us was Lisa Osay, Development Director of the Young Marines in Dallas. These were the same Young Marines who helped us at the reunion of the Khe Sanh Veterans in Las Colinas, TX in July 2002. The Young Marines presented the Colors and participated in our Banquet Ceremonies and "Doc" Medal presentations. When we honored the Corpsmen, Medics and Doctors who served at Khe Sanh. Major General Christopher Cortez, C/0 Marine Corps recruiting, delivered an uplifting speech informing the attendees that the USMC has reached its recruiting goal for the last 93 Months. A feat not matched by any other branch of service.

We presented the check to 10-year-old Tray Morris III, who accepted it on behalf of the Young Marines Organization. After taking photos, we were about to leave when Major General Cortez informed I me that he wanted to meet young Tray. When I observe the General hand the young man his personal general's coin, I slipped the kid one of our Khe l Sanh coins. He then handed it to the General, whose wide smile and hearty laugh let me know he was completely surprised. The looks of gratitude in their I eyes was indescribable. Tray's father was so proud of his young son. \

Since young Tray had to be in school, they left the luncheon early but returned about ten minutes later. Mr. Morris explained he was so proud he just had to have a picture with his son and General Cortez. The General was most obliging and took several pictures with Tray and his father. Young Tray had a great story to tell his fellow Young Marines and I am sure one day soon he will be one of The Few, The Proud. I am sure of it. In fact, I think I saw General Cortez slip the kid some recruiting literature. The Young Marines have an outstanding organization. It keeps the young kids off the streets and gives them the discipline they need. I was proud to see the future, past and present Marines together for such a worthy cause.

So you guys should be proud you all made a little difference to a bunch of decent kids. This is just one of the projects the KSV help out with. It's those little PX items you buy and those generous donations that make this kindness possible. I salute all you guys for your generosity. We need to do more of this around the country. We need your ideas and funds to do other worthy projects.

Semper Fi

Jim (Jimbo) Wodecki
Secretary, Khe Sanh Veterans

 *****

The Promise
by Richard Oulton

Some people living in homeowners associations tend to have an unhealthy preoccupation with their neighbors and feel compelled to keep close tabs on them. Their justification for their officiousness and intrusion is to protect property values by ensuring conformity and uniformity. And so, having wrapped themselves in self-righteousness, they proceed to turn these artificially uniform enclaves into mini war zones.

 One such battlefield is Wyndham, an upscale development in the Richmond, VA suburbs. The object currently in the Wyndham association crosshairs happens to be the flagpole from which the Oultons fly an American flag, a flag meant to honor the 604 men in Richard's battalion who were killed in action during the Vietnam war. And because of the high casualties they sustained in combat, the battalion earned the nickname of "The Walking Dead." The recipient of a Purple Heart and a Combat Action Ribbon, Richard was awarded a Congressional Veteran Commendation this past November for the honorable service he performed while a member of the Armed Forces. But alas, homeowners' associations are not known for their tolerance of patriots or flags, although the politically correct ones insist it is not the flag they object to, per se, and omit any specific language relating to the flag. Wyndham is no different.

As Richard tells it, being an attorney, he read all 250 pages of The Declaration of Covenants, Conditions & Restrictions prior to buying their house. Nothing he read caused him to rethink the purchase he was about to make. Nowhere in the "book of restrictions" were the words flag or flagpole to be found. "I took the CC&cRs at their word," he said.

However, as soon as he erected a flagpole the winds of war started blowing and the Wyndham Association took the Oultons to court. With no specific restrictions on flags or poles in the governing documents, Wyndham used a catchall provision in the CC&Rs, and alleged the flag was a "visual nuisance." The judge agreed.

This outraged and upset many people, including members of the legislature who responded by unanimously voting in The Wyndham Flag Bill. This statute basically provides that no homeowners association can prohibit a homeowner from flying a flag, unless they disclose it at the time of sale. Despite the fact that the new law was enacted specifically for the Wyndham flag case and was called the Wyndham Flag Law, the judge ruled that the law did not apply to the Oultons' case. He ignored the law. He also dismissed the Oultons' arguments claiming their defenses "complicated the case". And, just for good measure, Judge Harris changed his mind at the last minute and denied them a trial by a jury of their peers. With no laws to protect them, no jury to decide the facts in their case and with none of the facts "complicating the case," the Oultons,' predictably, lost.

After their attempts to appeal to both the Virginia and United States Supreme courts failed, they found themselves back in Judge Harris' courtroom. With no higher authority left to turn to, the Oultons ultimately lost their battle. Judge Harris ordered them to remove their flagpole and the flag by March 1, 2003 or to be prepared to face the consequences.

Should the "consequences" include a stay in the county jail, as Richard suspects, they'll have to make arrangements for their two small children. With no family in the area, they face some pretty tough decisions. They also face the possibility of losing the 6-month infant they are in the process of adopting.

At the base of the flagpole is an inscribed bronze plaque that starts with a promise," I will always fly these flags, as "I owe it to my boys, to my 'Walking Dead Marines.'" Many of the men in Richard's battalion died in his arms and by taking down the flag, he believes he would be betraying his men and betraying the ultimate price they paid to protect our right to fly the flag.

While their fellow homeowners in Wyndham do not object to the flagpole or the flag and have signed petitions in support of the Oultons, once the board started beating the drums of war, and the attorneys got involved, the will of the members themselves seems to matter not a whit.

For more information on the Wyndham Flag case please visit www.americanflagtrial.com. And for a radio interview with Richard Oulton, log onto to www.onthecommons.com, scroll to the bottom of the page and click on the "Listen" icon.

 PUBLISHER NOTE: Richard Oulton has also been \ fined over $95,000 by the same Judge. He is currently seeking a pardon from the Governor for his fine and conviction for refusing to take down the flag. Please go to his website for additional information on how to sign the petition for a pardon.

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