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Marine Corps Birthday, Vince Dooley, A Celebration

November 10, 2022 — Leave a comment

Today, November 10, 2022, is the 247th birthday of the U.S. Marine Corps. All across the globe, active-duty Marines will take time to pay homage to their Corps, to its extraordinarily rich heritage, and to all of those who have gone before them, remembering especially those who have been wounded or killed in battle defending this nation. At most Marine posts, there will be a cake, a toast or two, and a reminder that the Marine Corps is an organization committed to excellence, to unselfish service, and, most importantly, to winning.  

This Marine Corps Birthday, I’d like to celebrate the life of Vince Dooley, the longtime football coach and athletics director at the University of Georgia, who died on October 28, 2022. Coach Dooley had been a Marine Corps officer in the mid-1950s, and his pride in his service in the Marines was evident to all who knew him. Dooley’s Georgia Bulldogs football teams were known for their toughness and their ability to battle and overcome—traits that reflected the character of their former-Marine leader. During his 25-year tenure as head coach, Dooley’s teams won 201 games, including six Southeastern Conference championships and one national championship. At the time of his retirement from coaching in 1988, only Alabama’s Bear Bryant exceeded Dooley in wins among SEC coaches.

In a small sampling of his many honors, Dooley was elected to the College Football Hall of Fame as well as the Marine Corps Sports Hall of Fame. From becoming a head coach at UGA in 1964 at the age of 31, until his death last month at age 90, Dooley became a revered figure at UGA and across the State of Georgia, not solely for his gridiron success, but also for his kindness, his integrity, and his loyalty. He will long be remembered as a focused, intelligent, highly successful man of many accomplishments, but who always remained approachable and gracious.

I had some history with Coach Dooley. He became a role model for me when I was seventeen years old. I admired him from afar for the immediate success he had in turning around what had become a moribund football program at Georgia. When soon thereafter I became a student at UGA, I could judge by the esteem he held among his football players that he was indeed the real deal. After I graduated from college and became an officer in the Marine Corps, Coach Dooley and I exchanged letters, a habit we would keep up intermittently for the rest of his life. Every time one of the four novels I have written was released, I would always make sure Coach got a copy hot off the press. He was always pleased to receive the book and generous with his comments.

He was also generous with his time. My wife and I had a chance to meet with him when he was consulting with Kennesaw State University over their ambition to start a football program. We met in a private office near the university and talked about football, the Marine Corps, and gardening which had a special attraction to him given the world-class garden he maintained at his Athens residence. I signed my latest book and gave him a copy. He signed a picture for me. We took a photograph together. He was in no hurry to conclude our session, but then again, I realized he was being paid for his time as a consultant, so I thanked him for all he had meant to me and so many others he had touched with his extraordinary accomplishments.

This Marine Corps Birthday I will think of Coach Dooley. One of the highest compliments I was paid during my business career was when a colleague referred to me as our company’s version of Vince Dooley—always calm and collected but always well prepared to take on and beat the competition. I’ll always cherish that compliment, even though I clearly knew that I could hardly compare to such a giant of a figure. Still, I was grateful that my colleague compared me to Coach Dooley rather than, say, Dog the Bounty Hunter, or some such. That would have been far less pleasing (and highly unlikely to have found its way in this or any other post).

Much like the Marine Corps he served with such pride, Vince Dooley knew how to lead, and especially how to win. He sought excellence in everything he did. He served his Bulldog football players with great loyalty and devotion, teaching them life lessons along the way that benefited so many. He donated his time to many charitable organizations, using his considerable celebrity in service to others. And he was an inspiration to countless individuals like myself who will be forever thankful for the example he provided. His was a life exceedingly well lived.

Thank you, Coach Dooley. And Semper Fi.

Happy Birthday, Marines.

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USMC Lt. John Bobo, Medal of Honor

November 7, 2019 — Leave a comment

When I was a new U.S. Marine Corps Second Lieutenant attending the Basic School at Quantico, Virginia, I was drawn to a room in which a wall of black-and-white photos depicted Marine lieutenants who had been awarded the nation’s highest decoration, the Medal of Honor. At least two of the pictured officers were by then instructors at the Basic School, viewed as they were in nothing short of awe. Most of those pictured, however, had been awarded the Medal of Honor posthumously. All of those men seemed larger than life, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only fledgling lieutenant who wondered how good I would be at following in their very large shadows.

One officer in particular caught my eye. He was a posthumous Medal of Honor awardee, First Lieutenant John P. Bobo from Niagara Falls, New York. He graduated from Niagara University and was commissioned a Second Lieutenant in the Marine Corps in December, 1965. After completing Basic School, Lt. Bobo was ordered to Vietnam in June, 1966. Once there, he assumed command of a platoon of Marines.

In March, 1967, a large force of North Vietnamese Army soldiers attacked his company’s night position, and during the desperate fight Lt. Bobo was killed in action. His Medal of Honor citation reads thusly:

“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty as Weapons Platoon Commander, Company I, 3rd Battalion, 9th Marines, 3rd Marine Division in Quang Tri Province, Republic of Vietnam, on 30 March 1967. Company I was establishing night ambush sites when the command group was attacked by a reinforced North Vietnamese company supported by automatic weapons and mortar fire. Lieutenant BOBO immediately organized a hasty defense and moved from position to position encouraging the outnumbered Marines despite the murderous enemy fire. Recovering a rocket launcher from among the friendly casualties, he organized a new launcher team and directed its fire into the enemy machine gun position. When an exploding enemy mortar round severed Lieutenant Bobo’s right leg below the knee, he refused to be evacuated and insisted upon being placed in a firing position to cover the movement of the command group to a better location. With a web belt around his leg serving as tourniquet and with his leg jammed into the dirt to curtail the bleeding, he remained in this position and delivered devastating fire into the ranks of the enemy attempting to overrun the Marines. Lieutenant BOBO was mortally wounded while firing his weapon into the main point of the enemy attack but his valiant spirit inspired his men to heroic efforts, and his tenacious stand enabled the command group to gain a protective position where it repulsed the enemy onslaught. Lieutenant BOBO’s superb leadership, dauntless courage, and bold initiative reflected great credit upon himself and upheld the highest traditions of the Marine Corps and the United States Naval Service. He gallantly gave his life for his country.”

Lt. John Bobo still seems larger than life to me. It is fitting to recognize this extraordinary Marine on the 244th Birthday of the Corps.

You were an inspiration to me when I first saw your picture and learned of your story. And you still are.  

RIP and Semper Fi, sir.

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Remembering a U.S. Marine Hero on Memorial Day, 2018

May 23, 2018 — Leave a comment

Alexander “Sandy” Bonnyman Jr was born in Atlanta, GA on May 2, 1910 before moving to Knoxville, TN in his youth. During World War II, Bonnyman enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps at age 32 and underwent recruit training at Marine Corps Recruit Depot, San Diego, CA. He could have exempted military service by virtue of his owning and managing a copper-mining business deemed strategically important to the war effort. But he chose to serve instead.

As a result of his exemplary leadership as a combat engineer during the Battle of Guadalcanal in 1942, Bonnyman was awarded a battlefield commission as a Second Lieutenant. It was during the November 1943 Battle of Tarawa that Bonnyman’s extraordinary leadership skills were once again displayed. On the battle’s first day and upon his own initiative, he voluntarily led a group of Marines in silencing an enemy installation while other Marines were pinned down on the beach. His primary duties as a beachhead logistics officer required no such risky activity in the face of the enemy. But he chose to lead instead.

On the battle’s second day, and once again exercising exceptional initiative, Bonnyman patched together a group of 21 Marines and attacked a reinforced enemy shelter. While the initial attempt met with limited success, Bonnyman and his Marines had to withdraw to take on more ammunition and explosives. The second attempt flushed large numbers of enemy from the position where they were quickly dispatched by Marine infantry and a supporting tank. Bonnyman was shot and killed while pressing the assault from a forward position in what became the attack’s final phase. When leaders were desperately needed in a desperate fight, he again chose to step forward and lead.

He was interred with other Marines in an impromptu burial trench whose location was inadvertently lost by the end of the war.

Lt. Alexander Bonnyman was later awarded a posthumous Medal of Honor for his actions at Tarawa. His “dauntless fighting spirit, unrelenting aggressiveness and forceful leadership” were cited in the award.

In March 2015, the lost burial trench was located by History Flight, Inc., a Florida-based nonprofit that has recovered more than seventy sets of Marine remains from Tarawa. In May 2015, some seven decades after his death in battle, Lt. Bonnyman’s remains were found and thereafter positively identified. What made the discovery all the more poignant was that Clay Bonnyman Evans, the grandson of Lt. Alexander Bonnyman, had volunteered to travel to Tarawa to assist in the search. Evans was on the scene when his grandfather’s remains were unearthed.

In September 2015, Lt. Bonnyman’s remains were returned to his childhood home in Knoxville, TN. He was buried with full military honors at Berry Highland Memorial Cemetery. He was home, finally.

Semper Fi, Alexander Bonnyman. And welcome home, sir.

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Did All The Heroes Get Up And Leave?

May 9, 2017 — Leave a comment

Are we a society that no longer has heroes? Have we become so indifferent and cynical that men and women doing heroic things are seldom reported and hardly noticed, and consequently neither celebrated nor emulated? Are we now too sophisticated to become caught up in something so yesterday as a “hero,” while news coverage goes to thugs who shut down a campus speaker and perhaps even destroy property, all while behaving in ways that they themselves consider virtuous and courageous?

So, where did our heroes go?

Admittedly, it’s a stretch to find public officials nowadays in politics or academia whose actions would qualify as heroic. Our Hollywood celebrity culture provides an endless supply of shallow, egocentric, sparsely talented individuals who provide us not only with the fruits of their “craft,” but with their standard, spineless lecturing as their enlightened gift to the rest of us, the great unwashed.

The sporting world has become so soiled with cheating, pampered, self-absorbed athletes and coaches, and so driven by college and professional organizations that devalue longstanding virtues like loyalty and integrity, that past sports giants like Tom Landry, John Wooden, and Vince Lombardi would likely turn away in disgust. In addition, the corporate world has had its share of arrogant industry titans who have lied, bilked, and bullied their way to lifetime riches with astonishing collateral damage to their companies, customers, and stockholders.

There have been eighteen Medals of Honor awarded to American service members during the course of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and two more for service in Somalia. How many Americans have seen television or print media coverage of these men? How many Americans have seen the photos and heard the stories of all twenty? Or perhaps even two or three? Is this confirmation that we no longer have any heroes?

No, I don’t believe so.

Heroes are still among us. U.S. Airways pilot Captain Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger landing his stricken airplane safely in the Hudson River is one of them. So are the 343 New York City firefighters who climbed up those smoky stairwells and perished on that hard, dark September 11th day at the World Trade Center. There was 75 firehouses in New York in which at least one member was killed. Were these not heroes? Or the three young American service members who prevented a terrorist attack on a Paris train?

Americans still pull their fellow citizens from rain-swollen rivers. Single moms hold jobs, raise kids, and sometimes even go back to school. Dads teach their children about faithfulness, kindness, and sacrifice. Cancer patients, both young and old, fight back against their disease, often against overwhelming odds, and still give much of themselves to their families, churches, and communities. They are heroes, all. We are still a nation that needs it heroes, even without the high profile, to provide us with examples to follow, to cause us to remember our past, to give us reason for hope and encouragement.

I am a proud former U.S. Marine who marvels at the story of Corporal Kyle Carpenter, USMC, one of the twenty Medal of Honor awardees referenced above. In Afghanistan in 2010, Corporal Carpenter moved toward an enemy grenade to shield his fellow Marines from the blast. Kyle suffered extensive facial and limb damage and underwent multiple surgeries, not to mention enduring enough physical pain to last multiple lifetimes. And I couldn’t possibly comprehend the mental agony he has also bravely endured. After a three-year hospitalization and a medical retirement, Kyle became a college student. He is a survivor, a fighter, and an inspiration. He is a Marine, by God, in the very best way. And he is a hero.

So, it’s a fact that all the heroes didn’t get up and leave. They’re still here. Just like always.

Look around and I’ll bet you can find one. And when you do, thank them for staying.

For more on Kyle and other Medal of Honor recipients, follow this link.

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A Long Remembered Salute – Happy Birthday, Marines

November 10, 2016 — Leave a comment

Once again it is the occasion of the U.S. Marine Corps’ birthday, and I often think about this officer when I consider the Corps’ rich heritage. His name was Michael P. Ryan. In 1973, I was about to complete my obligation to the Marines and would soon leave Okinawa to return home to my wife and two young sons in Atlanta. By chance, I happened to be in the Officers Club one night when Gen Ryan, the Commanding General of the 3rd Marine Amphibious Force, dropped by as a guest of our Battalion Commander. I introduced myself to Gen. Ryan and informed him that I would soon rotate home and separate from the Marine Corps.

Gen. Ryan graciously thanked me for my service. I noticed the Navy Cross medal he wore, the highest decoration the Naval Service can award for combat valor, second only to the Medal of Honor. In addition, I remembered from my study of Marine Corps history that he had served with great distinction at the bloody World War II battle of Tarawa in November 1943.

“General,” I asked, “what’s the one thing you remember most from Tarawa?”

Gen. Ryan replied without hesitation, “The salute.”

The battle of Tarawa was the first U.S. offensive in Central Pacific. To get to Japan, the Americans needed to take the Marianas; to take the Marianas, the U.S. needed to take the Marshalls; and to take the Marshalls, it was necessary to take Betio, on the western side of Tarawa Atoll in the Gilbert Islands.

Tarawa was the first U.S. invasion that was opposed at the landing beaches. Planners had expected a rising tide to provide a five-foot depth over the reef, but the depth was only three feet. The Higgins boats ferrying the Marines from ship to shore needed four feet of depth. Consequently, Marines had to wade ashore under murderous fire, greatly slowing their progress. “Situation in doubt” was communicated to the top U.S. commanders.

Casualties in first waves were shocking. It was a scene of utter chaos and destruction. Still, the young Marines kept advancing.

Then-Maj. Mike Ryan landed his company to the west of the main landing areas where he consolidated the stragglers from units that had been obliterated on the beaches. Suddenly, out of the smoke comes an old staff sergeant, dragging a wounded hip, who sought out Maj. Ryan and asked what he could do to assist. When Maj. Ryan explained the situation and suggested a leadership role for the sergeant, the man straightened, voiced a resolute “aye-aye, sir,” and gave a crisp Marine Corps salute.

The attack was a success and provided pressure on the enemy’s right flank, which eventually broke. The battle turned on Maj. Ryan’s audacious gallantry and inspiring leadership. The Japanese commander had said before the battle that it would take a million Marines a hundred years to take Tarawa. It took Maj. Mike Ryan, a shot-up old staff sergeant, and 5,000 other leathernecks 76 hours.

Mike Ryan never saw the old NCO after the battle, so he never knew whether the man had survived the battle or the war. He only knew that, of the tens of thousands of salutes he received in a long and distinguished military career, the sergeant’s salute at Tarawa was the one he cherished the most.

On this the 241st birthday of the Marine Corps, I salute the Marines of the past who made our Corps into the finest fighting organization in the world. And I salute the Marines of the present who have maintained those core values of honor, courage, and commitment.

Semper Fi.

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Memorial Day, 2014: A Marine’s Marine

May 24, 2014

Gen. Raymond G. Davis, United States Marine Corps, is one of the more legendary figures in the fabled history of the Corps. He was a combat veteran of World War II, Korea, and Vietnam. He was awarded virtually every decoration this nation can bestow for acts of gallantry, including the Medal of Honor. And he attained four-star rank when he was named Assistant Commandant of the Marine Corps near the end of his illustrious career.

His Medal of Honor citation reads in part: “Always in the thick of the fighting Lt. Col. Davis led his battalion over 3 successive ridges in the deep snow in continuous attacks against the enemy and, constantly inspiring and encouraging his men throughout the night, brought his unit to a point within 1,500 yards of the surrounded rifle company by daybreak. Although knocked to the ground when a shell fragment struck his helmet and 2 bullets pierced his clothing, he arose and fought his way forward at the head of his men until he reached the isolated Marines.”

The temperature that night in Korea was 30 degrees below zero. He rescued his Marines and opened up a critical mountain pass.

When I was a Basic School student at Quantico, Virginia as a Marine second lieutenant in 1970, Gen. Davis attended a formal dinner for our class, by tradition referred to as Mess Night. I knew of his exploits in combat, and I saw the Medal of Honor around his neck and the Navy Cross, Silver Star, Bronze Star, Purple Heart, and numerous other decorations on his chest. He was soft-spoken, of average height and build, but he had the unmistakable presence and aura that great leaders exude, all without a trace of vanity or condescension.

When I mentioned to Gen. Davis that I was from his home state of Georgia, he asked what school I had attended. I knew the general had graduated from Georgia Tech, and when I mentioned that I had attended his school’s chief rival, he smiled and said, “Ah, a Georgia Bulldog.”

The years passed, and I now wish that I had arranged to visit him before his death in 2003, at age 88. I could have taken along the three novels I’ve written and we could have talked about the football fortunes of Georgia and Georgia Tech. And I’m sure we would have talked about the Marine Corps. What a rich wellspring of Marine history he would have been.

Thank you, Gen. Davis, for the remarkable service you rendered this nation in its times of need. You will forever be remembered by your fellow Marines.

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