This is a photo of my friend Frank Garcia Jr. on the left and his squad leader and friend Chuck on the right. I add this photo out of my great respect for those warriors that have served in combat. This picture was probably taken in July of 1967 at the hamlet of Gia Le, South Vietnam a few miles south of Hue.

It was early Friday evening, August 4th, 1967 and before Frank, four other marines and three PFs could set up their own ambush, they came under fire. Most of their newly issued M16s jammed and turned a defendable situation into a desperate firefight. The PFs took off and ran away. Frank’s squad leader Chuck and two other Marines were severely wounded.

Like thousands of good warriors that died that year, Frank did not come home alive. He bled to death right there that evening so long ago. (16 deg. 25' 18.33" North -- 107 deg. 39' 05.15" East) Over forty years have passed. Frank’s squad leader still won't talk about what happened to them that evening. Most heroes are like that.

I honor Frank’s memory and am thankful for the small part of his life that I knew him and was able to call him my friend. To those of you that served and came home whole, wounded or broken in spirit, you have my deepest respect. May we never forget that over forty years ago a bunch of young kids were sent off to war and some of them never came home.

This is a photo of my friend Frank Garcia Jr. on the left and his squad leader and friend Chuck on the right. I add this photo out of my great respect for those warriors that have served in combat. This picture was probably taken in July of 1967 at the hamlet of Gia Le, South Vietnam a few miles south of Hue.

It was early Friday evening, August 4th, 1967 and before Frank, four other marines and three PFs could set up their own ambush, they came under fire. Most of their newly issued M16s jammed and turned a defendable situation into a desperate firefight. The PFs took off and ran away. Frank’s squad leader Chuck and two other Marines were severely wounded.

Like thousands of good warriors that died that year, Frank did not come home alive. He bled to death right there that evening so long ago. (16 deg. 25' 18.33" North -- 107 deg. 39' 05.15" East) Over forty years have passed. Frank’s squad leader still won't talk about what happened to them that evening. Most heroes are like that.

I honor Frank’s memory and am thankful for the small part of his life that I knew him and was able to call him my friend. To those of you that served and came home whole, wounded or broken in spirit, you have my deepest respect. May we never forget that over forty years ago a bunch of young kids were sent off to war and some of them never came home.