We are fortunate in Harlingen to have the Marine Military Academy, a boy's high school and college preparatory school that has an Iwo Jima Memorial. It was made from the molds that made the one in Washington D.C. I do not mean to be disrespectable in any way, but naturally it is larger than the one in D.C. You would expect that since it is in Texas.

The school and memorial is located at our airport, and every time I pass by it has a profound effect on me, knowing that we owe so much to those who gave their all so we can be free. One of the men in the memorial was a member of the football team from a neighboring city that joined in unison to serve. One of the survivors of that team was a coach and assistant principal at my high school. It was not until much later that I learned about this. I would have worshiped him instead of being such a typical teenager.

Two weeks ago, I entertained a recovering wounded soldier from Brook Army Medical Hospital in San Antonio. I took him hunting for three days at my lease. It was a small thing I could do for those who are again giving their all so that my children and grandchildren can grow up in safety. Wes was injured in a roadside explosion, his thirteenth one. He has one tour in Afghanistan, and two in Iraq. He nearly lost his left arm, but with extensive surgery it has been saved and things are looking up even though it never will be 100%. He is also suffering from posttraumatic stress syndrome. Wes is a Spec 4 in the combat MPs and hopes to return to duty.

Fear of not being able to return to active duty seems to be the greatest concern of all these young people. It seems that every generation has those special people who will rise to the occasion and defend us. Wes is a Texas boy who attended the University of Iowa on a baseball scholarship and graduated with a law degree, but felt a calling to enlist. God Bless those who serve.

Now to the important part -- the hunt. Wes arrived Thursday, and that afternoon we drove up to the ranch, which is only 30 minutes away. That afternoon we sort of scoped out the area and evaluated his ability to hunt. We decided to do most of it from a vehicle. You remember the old song about being a Texas cowboy riding the range in a Ford V-8. We had a nice supper of fajitas cooked over mesquite coals with rice and re-fried beans. He said it sure beat the hospital food; hell it beats about anything when you can set around a campfire and enjoy the uninvited guest of raccoons and javelina and have fajitas at the same time.

The next morning we got up to some cool 40 degree weather and went out to a blind to do some coyote hunting with a caller.  We had one make a brief appearance but it was not impressed enough, I guess, by our presentation to  allow a shot. About 8AM we started riding around looking for a female nilgai. The nilgai is an introduced animal from India. The story goes that in the late 40's or early 50's a couple of them were picked up by the King Ranch from a defunct circus in Corpus Christi.

Liking what they saw, the King Ranch picked up a herd of them and from there they have expanded and now roam over most of South Texas. We now have more in South Texas than they have in India. The males are black and grow up to be some 600 to 800lbs. The black is almost a dark blue and they are known as the "blue buck of India.” The males have small horns that grow to be up to ten inches, hardly impressive, but they can really use them in combat with other males or against humans. I have found dead ones that were gored to death by those little daggers.

We had one on the ranch that had been raised from a baby and had no fear of humans. He loved to play with us when we went into the pasture, but play to him could cause us serious injury. When he got big enough to get out of the pasture, the ranch had to move him out to another ranch.

The females do not have horns and are orange in color. The real problem is that immature males start out orange too, but have horns. It makes it hard to identify them, so you have to really check them out since the horns are little and come up along the ears. So we started our day looking for a female. We saw a ton of small males and the females we saw were on the run. They have very good eyesight and smell ability. We saw deer and turkeys, javelinas, and pigs. Finally, driving through a large pasture that had been roller cut, we spotted a nilgai standing at the brush line that ran around the pasture.

We checked it for horns and, seeing none, I ranged it at 240 yds. Wes was using one of the new 325 win short mags with a 200 gr. Nosler Accubond bullet. Since Wes could not hold the rifle with his left arm, he rested it on the outside mirror. Again we checked the animal for horns. Wes took careful aim and shot. The animal disappeared. It looked like a good shot, but when we got to the tree, no nilgai or any blood. We started our search. Thirty yards straight back was a dead giant female Eland, another exotic that they have on the ranch. The shot had dropped it in its tracks.

With the binoculars the animal looked like it was just behind the tree, making it look the proper size for a female nilgai. Being back another 30 yards, the perspective made it look a lot smaller, and a branch of the tree hid the rather large horns that were at least 24 inches long. This animal was in the neighborhood of 600lbs.

Here we are, a one armed soldier and a 61 year old grandfather with a 600lb animal on the ground. I tried to winch it to a tree and hang it up with my pulley system designed for use with deer. I think I turned the legs a foot or two before realizing we were really under prepared. That is when we started talking about bullet placement. It's not where you hit the animal, but where the animal is standing when you hit it! That is when you realize a shot between the ruts on the road is the best place to drop your animal. Well this is when the knife and saw come out to field dress it on the ground.

After two hours of telling Wes not to use his left arm and cutting the animal in two and removing his head we started looking for a way to get the SUV to the animal. Over the roller chop I drove it trying not to get too many punctures. Once I got it to the animal, it was still not over.  We had to get the eland on the game tray. Using his right arm and everything I had, we finally loaded it up and headed for the processor in Raymondville, 10 miles away. By this time we did have a puncture and had to stop a couple of times to pump up the tire with the portable compressor.

Our first stop was the tire shop and then on to the processor. While the two big helpers were removing the pieces we had put on the tray, one of them turned to Wes and said, ”How did you, with only one good arm and that ‘old man’, get this loaded up?” I was worn out and yesterday I had surgery to close up my hernias in my stomach. This old man can still do a day’s worth of work. I must admit, I slowed down when I started to get tunnel vision.

The next day we got the female nilgai with help from one of the other hunters who had a jeep that was set up to recover large animals with a hoist and an electric winch. We will send a large load of meat to the Hospital for a couple of bar-b-ques. Wes will also have a record book trophy of a female eland.

The most important thing was the time we spent just talking, the time we spent with the other hunters and time just setting around the camp fire. I hope my experiences in Viet Nam helped him understand some of his feelings, knowing he was not alone with those feelings. Not that I had any experiences that ever came close to what he experienced, at least he had someone who understood.

We are fortunate to have young men like Wes.

Bob Dunkin, Panama 30, 1968