On this day, New Years Eve 2018, I feel compelled to write this. Today I visited a grave marker, a grey piece of stone, at the Camp Lewis Cemetery. As I placed flowers at the site, I slowly read the inscription on the slab: "Jack Dale McClure -- Washington -- Captain -- Infantry -- Korea -- Vietnam -- Jan 30 1930 -- Dec 31 1965."
I was grateful to have found it last year, just by chance, as I participated in the "Wreaths Across America Project" at Joint Base Lewis-McChord.
As I stared at the marker on this cold early foggy morning, I placed a quarter on the top of the stone and the memory of that day in 1965 engulfed my thoughts as if no time had passed at all.
You see, I was there when Capt. Jack Dale McClure was killed in action. The date on the stone seemed insignificant, just a date from the past, a few numbers indicating the day that he died.
No one else viewing the headstone would have any idea of what that day, the last in his life, was like.
He was the American senior adviser to the 2nd Battalion, 9th Infantry Regiment, South Vietnamese Army (ARVN) 5th Infantry Division, operating in the III Corps Tactical Zone of South Vietnam. It was to be a relatively simple road clearing operation along Route 13, oftentimes referred to as Thunder Road.
With the route cleared, the truck convoy, carrying supplies and South Vietnamese soldiers, began moving north the in the direction of the village of Bến Cát. The early day was quite warm and as usual, very humid.
The vehicles moved rapidly, which was normal for travel along this dangerous enemy infested route, and all seemed well. Suddenly, an ear-splitting explosion followed by chaotic yelling and screaming.
A command detonated mine had been detonated under one of the troop-carrying trucks just as it reached the end of a small bridge, scattering bodies in all directions. Captain McClure immediately rushed in the direction of the killed and wounded and, of course, we, myself and another sergeant, did the same.
The captain hollered to me, "Sergeant, grab the radio from the jeep!" I turned and ran the short distance to our jeep.
Then it happened, another large explosion.
Another command detonated mine, this time a CHICOM claymore mine, much larger than ours, was detonated by Vietcong guerillas somewhere in the distant jungle. For those rushing to assist, they, too, became casualties.
Captain McClure being one of them, was killed instantly. He died a Soldier, an infantry combat Leader, moving with no hesitation nor any thought to his own safety, to help others.
Now the story is out there, for anyone desiring to reflect upon should they have occasion to visit the Camp Lewis Cemetery and stop by his grave site. As they might read the inscription, the date, Dec. 31, 1965, will certainly have a deeper meaning and become more than just a few numbers indicating the date that he died.
NOTE: The other sergeant who moved forward with Captain McClure, Sgt. Donald Duffy, died of wounds shortly after the captain.
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