Meet Rene Gonzalez, graduate student in the University of Massachusetts at Amherst, whose description of Pat Tillman - the former NFL star who died to ensure Rene's freedom of speech - summed up in a UMass student newspaper column - was:
"(A) G.I. Joe guy who got what was coming to him."
In Fallujah, they burn and mutilate the bodies of the dead . . . in Amherst, they mutilate the dead in print.
(To be fair, UMass President Jack Wilson has called the comments in The Daily Collegian " a disgusting, arrogant and intellectually immature attack on a human being who died in service to his country.")
Read the AP story | Read President Wilson's official smackdown . . .
I suspect, given Mr. Gonzalez' bent, that the nearly 59,000 of my generation listed on The Wall were "GI Joes who got what was coming to them."
But that's a down note, and instead I'd like to introduce you to one who didn't end up on The Wall, although he very nearly did so . . . multiple times. A man of quite different ilk than Mr. Gonzalez. A REAL man.
Meet Master Sgt. Roy Benavidez of Cuero, Texas. A half-Yaqui, half-Mexican orphan. The lowest of the low in the South Texas caste system. Middle-school dropout who became a Green Beret.
Sgt. Benavidez was a bull of a man when I met him in the 80s. He was in his mid-50s, then, not too many years after President Reagan placed the Medal of Honor around his neck. It was an honor long overdue . . . 15 years late . . . for a hero who got lost in the system.
Please read on . . .
The medivac team thought he was dead when they pulled him into the chopper in that last dustoff on May 2, 1968. Twenty years later, he told me that he could hear them talking about it. His greatest fear was that they'd finish him off by zipping him into a body bag. Their confusion was understandable. By that time, Sgt. Benavidez had been wounded at least 40 times. He'd been shot, stabbed, clubbed and fragged as he battled to pull a twelve-man Special Forces team to safety. He carried a number of wounded to helicopters, while taking hits himself.
He didn't have to be there. He wasn't involved in the mission. Back safe at the base. But when the team was overwhelmed and needed emergency extraction, Benavidez hopped on a chopper and headed out to help rescue his comrades. Here's the official Army citation describing his actions that day:
Master Sergeant, then Staff Sergeant Roy Benavidez, United States Army, who distinguished himself by a series of daring and extremely glorious actions on 2 May 1968 while assigned to Detachment B-56, 5th Special Forces Group (Airborne). 1st Special Forces, Republic of Vietnam.On the morning of 2 May 1968, a 12-man Special Forces Reconnaissance Team was inserted by helicopters in a dense jungle area west of Loc Ninh, Vietnam to gather intelligence information about confirmed large-scale enemy activity. This area was controlled and routinely patrolled by the North Vietnamese Army. After a short period of time on the ground, the team met heavy enemy resistance and requested emergency extraction.
Three helicopters attempted extraction, but were unable to land due to intense enemy small arms and anti-aircraft fire. Sergeant Benavidez was at the Forward Operating Base in Loc Ninh monitoring the operation by radio when these helicopters returned to off-load wounded crew members and to assess aircraft damage.
Sergeant Benavidez voluntarily boarded a returning aircraft to assist in another extraction attempt. Realizing that all the team members were either dead or wounded and unable to move to the pickup zone, he directed the aircraft to a nearby clearing, where he jumped from the hovering helicopter, and ran approximately 75 meters under withering small arms fire to the crippled team.
Prior to reaching the team's position he was wounded in his right leg, face and head. Despite these painful injuries, he took charge, repositioning the team members and directing their fire to facilitate the landing of an extraction aircraft, and the loading of wounded and dead team members. He then threw smoke canisters to direct the aircraft to the team's position.
Despite his severe wounds and under intense enemy fire, he carried and dragged half of the wounded team members to the awaiting aircraft. He then provided protective fire by running alongside the aircraft as it moved to pick up the remaining team members.
As the enemy's fire intensified, he hurried to recover the body and classified documents on the dead team leader. When he reached the leader's body, Sergeant Benavidez was severely wounded by small arms fire in the abdomen and grenade fragments in his back. At nearly the same moment, the aircraft pilot was mortally wounded, and his helicopter crashed.
Although in extremely critical condition due to his multiple wounds, Sergeant Benavidez secured the classified documents and made his way back to the wreckage, where he aided the wounded out of the overturned aircraft, and gathered the stunned survivors into a defensive perimeter.
Under increasing enemy automatic weapons and grenade fire, he moved around the perimeter distributing water and ammunition to his weary men, reinstilling in them a will to live and fight. Facing a buildup of enemy opposition with a beleaguered team, Sergeant Benavidez mustered his strength, began calling in tactical air strikes and directed the fire from supporting gun ships to suppress the enemy's fire and so permit another extraction attempt.
He was wounded again in his thigh by small arms fire while administering first aid to a wounded team member just before another extraction helicopter was able to land. His indomitable spirit kept him going as he began to ferry his comrades to the craft.
On his second trip with the wounded, he was clubbed, with additional wounds to his head and arms before killing his adversary. He then continued under devastating fire to carry the wounded to the helicopter. Upon reaching the aircraft, he spotted and killed two enemy soldiers who were rushing the craft from an angle that prevented the aircraft door gunner from firing upon them.
With little strength remaining, he made one last trip to the perimeter to ensure that all classified material had been collected or destroyed, and to bring in the remaining wounded. Only then, in extremely serious condition from numerous wounds and loss of blood, did he allow himself to be pulled into the extraction aircraft.
Sergeant Benavidez' gallant choice to voluntarily join his comrades who were in critical straits, to expose himself constantly to withering enemy fire, and his refusal to be stopped despite numerous severe wounds, saved the lives of at least 8 men. His fearless personal leadership, tenacious devotion to duty, and extremely valorous actions in the face of overwhelming odds were in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service, and reflect the utmost credit on him and the United States Army.
As noted here, Sgt. Benavidez was so badly wounded that his commander put him in for a Distinguished Service Cross - the No. 2 medal available - because he didn't think he'd survive long enough for the Medal of Honor paperwork to clear. That wasn't rectified until the Reagan administration.
Sgt. Benavidez survived, only to be so severly wounded by a landmine that he was told he would be paralyzed for life. He fought through a painful private war to prove the doctors wrong.
But the story doesn't end there. This short bull of a man who was walking scar tissue went on another mission, to fight the drugs, dropout rates and soaring gang violence that were sweeping the nation. He filled his life with appearances at schools and other venues, still wearing his dress greens, beret and a chest full of medals. Poor, at-risk kids and gang-bangers stopped dead in their tracks when they ran into this REAL tough guy . . . a guy who came from roots even lower than theirs . . . a guy they could respect and honor.
Sgt. Benavidez died at 63, almost five years ago. He was honored, in his lifetime and posthumously, not only with military awards, but for his tireless service to bring hope and self-respect to at-risk teens.
To Amherst wordsmith Gonzalez, the pain and mutilation that Sgt. Benavidez endured were no doubt deserved . . . just another "GI Joe who got what was coming to him."
Sgt. Benavidez was my hero, and I was honored to have worn the same uniform.
-------------------
In 2001, New Orleans' Avondale shipyard built a new Bob Hope-class sealift ship. The seventh vessel to sail from the shipyard was named the USNS Benavidez.
For more details on the life and exploits of Master Sgt. Roy Benavidez . . .
Click here . . . here . . . and many more.
At least three books are available on Sgt. Benavidez' battles, before, during and after Vietnam . . . perhaps UMass can make one required reading.
--------------
Mr. Gonzalez, by the way, has cropped up in the news before, as quoted in this protest story from the Workers World (as in Red Star, Workers of the World Unite, etc.) . . . and also here.
Comments