Sister of a 1968 Fallen Soldier Never Gave Up... Part 2

Arlington, Virginia
30 October 2006

In the September 2006 issue of Dispatches, an article I had written described how the sister of SP4 Rick Hill, after 38 years, never gave up trying to find someone who knew her brother who had been killed in Vietnam. Rick was one of my radio operators in Vietnam, and through the magic of the Internet and some insight of a couple of members of the 16^th Infantry Regiment Association, Linda Helm and I linked up. Near the end of my article, I wrote that because of our e-mail reunion, Linda and her mother wanted to come to Washington DC in October to meet me and visit Rick’s panel at the Vietnam War Memorial.

Well, it’s October and Linda Helm and her 78-year old mother Bernice Hill have come and gone. On their last day, as we hugged farewell, I told them I hoped their trip to our nation’s capital was fruitful. Bernice said that the best part of their trip was the time they spent with me. I smiled and said, “If you travel 3000 miles to visit Washington, DC and the best part is Sam Matthews, something is wrong!” We all laughed. Here’s the rest of the story.

Linda and I maintained electronic contact via phone and e-mail for five months as she finalized her plans for the visit. A month out, I did some basic infantry ground recons to check on their hotel, taxi cab prices, rental car options and particulars of the sightseeing shuttle that serves tourist high-points in DC. I also stopped by the congressional office of Barbara Cubin(R-WY). The only way for the public to visit the White House now a days is to get a tour scheduled through your congressman. Linda had arranged a tour for us through Ms Cubin. I would be coming off TDY the day before the tour, and as this tour was going to be the initial rallying point for Linda, Bernice and me, I had a few questions ahead of time. After reading the informational brochure about the tours, I said to Rep Cubin’s staffer, “So there are no women permitted on the White House tour?” She looked at me quizzically. I went on, “This says that there are no handbags or purses allowed. I have never seen a woman without one or the other.”

Linda and her mom arrived at their hotel on October 4^th as I was driving north halfway between Ft Bragg and DC. Over cell phones, we confirmed where she should tell the taxi driver to drop her off the next morning—Pennsylvania and 15^th, and established primary and alternate recognition signals--what we would be wearing and cell phones. The next morning, it worked out like clockwork. When the little hand was at 7 and the big hand at 6, we saw each other from a distance. Following hugs and verbal greetings, we got in line with the other thirty lucky souls for the 0730 tour. I don’t know how it was in earlier times when the White House was open to the general public, but this time, there was no tour guide to push you. You could spend as much or as little time as you wanted at portraits or rooms. We entered the East Wing and visited the ground and second floors of the “mansion”. Because Bernice needed the assistance of a wheel chair, she could not take the stairs to the next level. So she and I were allowed to go through the kitchen and take the food service elevator. We had to pass through a storage room to get there. Guess what…they have junk on floors and shelves just like us.

After the tour, we walked past the Treasury Building to a restaurant on 15^th Street that Representative Cubin’s staff had suggested for breakfast--the Old Ebitt's Grill. I casually mentioned to Linda that congressmen have different tastes than the rest of us and that this place was seeped in history and tradition, it was also “pricey.” Linda told me that they were doing a once in a lifetime trip and price was no object. Good enough for me, so Linda Helm and Bernice Hill of Douglas, Wyoming and Sam Matthews of Gallipolis, Ohio had breakfast in the presence of reporters, lobbyists and other wannabe muckety-mucks. After an entree the menu called a frittata, but looking a lot like a Denver omelet in a little black iron skillet, I had to get back to work, and Linda and mom had other things to do this day. We made arrangements to meet the next morning at the Vietnam Wall, then I showed them how to hail a taxi from the curb—a skill not practiced in Wyoming.

Well, steady rains came in that evening and it rained and became cold for the next 40 hours. When I called Linda from work early the next morning, we agreed to reschedule the trip to the Wall for Sunday morning. Besides being the kind of weather Mrs. Hill did not need to endure, rain on the black marble of the Memorial makes the names difficult to read and impossible to get a rubbing.

Sunday was a Southern Living fall day—sunny, crisp, with the leaves beginning their autumn spectacle. I was taking the Metro from its westernmost station while Linda was taking the cab from southern Arlington. We were to meet at the three-soldiers statue of the Memorial. From there I was going to show them how to find Rick’s name and panel and take them there. As each of you can understand, this was not going to be easy for any of us. Fortunately, because of the law of unintended consequences, it was not as bad as I had feared. 

I got off at the Foggy Bottom Metro stop and headed south on foot toward the west end of the National Mall, hoping to arrive at the statue before Linda and Bernice…which I did. They were nowhere in sight. Because of the annual Army 10-Miler race, the streets in downtown DC were a mess and traffic was being re-routed. The closest Linda and her mother were able to reach by taxi was 17^th between the Washington Monument and the World War II Memorial. So they had to walk all the way to where I was. When I called to see where they were, there was no answer on Linda’s cell phone. Then I looked down at the Wall and on the far right hand end, I saw them. They were standing there looking at a panel. It took me about three minutes to get to them. Because they were walking in from the east, they came in on the end where Rick’s name was. And through pure clairvoyance, they stopped at his panel and saw his name. Those of you who have been to the Wall know the improbability of finding someone’s name by happenstance among the 58,000 honored there.
   
They had brought a flowered wreath and laid it at the base of panel 51E. Linda said wild sweet peas and daisies were native flowers of Wyoming and favorites of Rick. We spent a good bit of time there. I took some photos of them, Linda took some of her mom and me, and we got a passerby to take a picture of all three of us. After I had made four rubbings of “Richard A. Hill”, we walked to the statue where we were supposed to meet and got some more photos—mine, hers and another passerby. 

I had planned on spending about an hour with them…I spent five. We saw the Lincoln Memorial, the Korean War Memorial and the World War II Memorial. Bernice’s husband was in World War II, her brother in the Korean War and her son in the Vietnam War. Tell me about patriots. We talked about Rick. I actively recalled things about him, and they passively recalled things about him that were in the back of my memory—he was a rodeo rider, he paid for Linda’s wedding from his soldier’s pay, and he had a girlfriend who was waiting to marry him when he returned. And we all recalled his smile, his lust for life and his sense of humor. 

While we were at the World War II Memorial, we took a break on the carved marble benches. There I gave Linda and Bernice each a full copy of Dagwood Dispatches with the article in it. In return, Linda showed me some old photos she had--some of Rick in Future Farmers of America in high school and a couple of him in his Army Green uniform. I told mom and sister that I don’t recall ever seeing him that clean! After all we were a rather grody bunch in the field. She had the picture of Rick and me on an operation in Vietnam (the one in the Dispatches article) as well as a couple of others of Rick from Ken Plank, a former 2d Battalion 16^th Infantry recon platoon member I had linked up with Linda. There was a mix of photos of recon platoon members, some of whom I identified and labeled some I couldn’t. As fate would have it, she handed me one of a handsome young man in full battle attire and asked who this was. Naturally, she didn’t know him, but this one I recognized. Yep, it was me! I don’t think she believed I was ever that young. 

Bernice was tired by this time and we made our way back to 17^th Street to hail a taxi. Before we parted, Linda said they had brought me something from Wyoming, but in haste had left it back in the hotel. She asked if we could meet somewhere before they left. We agreed to meet at the Smithsonian American History Museum at 1015 Tuesday.

Those who read the first article may recall that Linda and here husband are Harley riders. In true Harley enthusiast form, Monday night Linda called me and asked if we could delay tomorrow’s meeting a bit. She wanted to visit a Harley Davidson dealer and get some locally branded merchandise. I told her about a big dealer in Fairfax and asked that she give me a call when she had her shopping done and was enroute to the Smithsonian. She called about noon Tuesday. I had to go to the Association of the US Army (AUSA) annual convention at the Convention Center, so the Smithsonian was enroute for me. I hit the Metro and surfaced at the Smithsonian stop. No Linda. I called her and found out that the taxi had dropped her and Bernice off at the Air and Space Museum, a good day’s foot journey down the Mall. Back on the Metro and off at L’Enfant Plaza where I found them on the Independence Avenue side of the Museum.

Linda had a big Harley shopping bag brimming with logo clothing. Bernice reached in and handed me a Jackelope sweat shirt and a “Wyoming” fleece vest. Linda gave me a Loyalton, California hat and trout fishing t-shirt. I now have four new items of clothing that I intend to wear when I go downtown to the National Mall. And when someone asks me if I’m from Wyoming, I’ll say, “No, but let me tell you a story about some folks who are.”

This story would not have been possible without the help of some loyal 16^th Infantrymen. Dan McFee, B/2-16^th and Ron Saxton, D/2-16^th for picking up the initiative from Linda’s inquiry early this year, and locating me in the process. Jim Moore, B/2-16^th, for giving me his copy of Dagwood Dispatches so that Linda and her mom could both have an original copy of the first article about Richard Hill. Gerry Griffin, former HCOR, and Mack Mackedanz, Bandido Charlie, for publishing the first story on the webpage and in hard copy. And Ken Plank, Recon 2-16^th, one of my squad leaders in Vietnam.

Sam Matthews

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Iraq Soldiers Support Fund/Christmas Fund

Please don’t forget the Iraq Soldiers Support Fund/Christmas Fund donation. Please send them to our Association Secretary, Ken Alderson. We currently have A/1/16 deployed to the Horn of Africa, and B/C/1/16 deployed to Iraq on Convoy Security duty. 2/16 is undergoing training for deployment the later part of January or early February. This year on January 20^th there will be a 1^st Division Infantry Ball held a Fort Riley. If you are interested in attending you will need to let the 1^st Battalion know by the end of November. Remember it is easier to plan to go and then cancel than trying to get a room at the last minute, since all infantrymen of the Division will be attending. Below is one of the Iraq Veteran’s Projects that our Association and the DMOR’s have been supporting and will continue to support. For those of you that know former Captain Lonnie Moore of 1/16 know that he has been very involved in this from the beginning. They do great work for our soldiers returning from Iraq.

Donate to Wounded Warrior Project today to give a backpack filled with essential items to a hospitalized soldier.

YOUR DONATIONS WILL HELP ENSURE OUR CONTINUED SUPPORT TO THIS IMPORTANT ORGANIZATION.

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 06- TOUR de SAN DIEGO

As you know for the past two years I have ridden my motorcycle to San Diego to raise money for my son’s Trust Fund. The fund supports the San Diego Children’s Cancer Ward, the San Diego Police Officers Scholarship Fund and the annual Officer Jerry Griffin Toy and Food Drive for needy families in San Diego. Last year I rode alone, except for parts of Oklahoma where I was joined by a couple of SOA members.

This year I had the privilege of being joined by two Bandido Charlie guys, Steve Biernacki and Mike Renshaw. On our first night we stopped and visited Phil Greenwell and his lovely wife. Phil as you know is our Association President, and former Bandido Charlie Company Commander. The Greenwell’s had a cookout and refreshments which was great. It’s always good to be able to stop and visit with old friends.

Early the next morning we were on our way to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas where we spent the night visiting with Roger Donlon and his wife. As many of you know Roger was the first Vietnam era Medal of Honor recipient. The Donlons had a great meal waiting for us and took everyone on a tour of Fort Leavenworth. 

When we departed Fort Leavenworth at 6 AM is was raining and continued to rain until we reached Fort Riley where we were going to have breakfast with LTC Frank Zachar, Commander 1^st Battalion, 16^th Infantry. I might add that although Frank is a great Battalion Commander he needs to brush up on his cooking a little. However, the hospitality was great and it gave us a good break before we headed towards New Mexico.

Since we were going near Tucson we made a side-trip to visit Steve’s sister-in-law where we had lunch and then back in the saddle. About 6 miles from our destination, the San Diego Harley Shop, my bike broke down and they had to come and get it. After looking it over the price of repairs continued to grow and I decided to trade it in on a very nice 2003 Electra-Glide loaded with extras. Boy, what a difference between the Electra-Glide and my old Softail. The Jerry Griffin Harley Poke Run was a great success and I was able to raise $3660 for the Fund as a result of my ride.

On the way home we spent a night in Las Vegas where Steve and Mike both won some money and naturally I lost some money. But then, I think it’s un-American to win at Vegas, something that I have never done. From there we went to the Grand Canyon and on to Albuquerque to visit with Mike’s older Brother and his family. Then on to visit Roger Haynie and his son, who live in Arkansas. Roger served with Mike and Steve in Vietnam.

Riding through the Grand Canyon, one can see just how beautiful
this great country of ours really is.

Steve Biernacki and Roger Haynie Bandido Charlie

Thanks to Steve and Mike, this year’s trip was a much better trip. Their support for the ride meant a lot to me and my family. We have already started planning next September’s trip, which will include side trips to Sturgis, Bryce Canyon National Park, and Zion National Park in Utah as well as Salt Lake City. If anyone out there would like to join us during any part of the ride, let me know. We would love to have you and it really is a lot of fun.

Jerry Griffin

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Band of Brothers – Rough Riders Motorcycle Association

We are talking to members from the Regimental Association motorcycle riders as well as from other military units to determine if we have sufficient interest to form a riders/families Motorcycle Association. If interested, please send us an email at gkgpag@msn.com. We are in the planning stage and before we invest the time and effort into organizing and registering such a group we want to determine if there is enough interest. We plan to have rides in support of service personnel and police officers families. We are interested in any comments and/or suggestions you might have. Below is a draft of the Association Patch we are considering using if we decide to move forward with our plans. Please let us know if you are interested so we can make our decision. Our first Band of Brothers Ride could be the 07 Rolling Thunder Ride.

Jerry Griffin A/2/16, Steve Biernacki C/1/16, Mike Renshaw C/1/16

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