WILLIAM R. STOLLEY, JR was born on December 7, 1948 and joined the Armed Forces while in Dowagiac, Michigan.

Rich, as he was known to family and friends, served as a 0351 for the United States Marine Corps. In one year of service, he attained the rank of LCPL/E3. He began his tour of duty on June 25, 1968.

On March 14, 1969, at the age of 20, Rich perished in the selfless service of our country in South Vietnam, Quang Tri.

RONALD CHRISTOPHER KATZ was born on May 22, 1943 and joined the Armed Forces while in Pueblo, Colorado.

He served as a 0369 for the United States Marine Corps. In six years of service, he attained the rank of SSGT/E6. He began a tour of duty on August 24, 1968.

On March 13, 1969, at the age of 25, SSGT Katz perished in the selfless service of our country in South Vietnam, Quang Tri.

He walked in the footsteps of giants and knelt in the valley of fear, but never once faltered. On that fateful day on Mutter's Ridge, March 13, 1969, we found ourselves in a critical NVA crossfire. Knowing combat, Sergeant Katz understood how perilous our situation had become, and given his knowledge and experience, very deliberately stood, and began his final action of the war. Launching a walking assault on the enemy's position, he time and again, slowly and methodically, aimed his shotgun with deadly precision. Miraculously, he managed to juggle suppressive fire, while hand-jamming rounds into his weapon.

Before long, we heard the deafening sound of silence when the shotgun ceased to fire. We knew this could only mean one thing and at that moment, the war shifted to become a battle within our minds -- we fought to believe.

Like many generations before, Sergeant Katz willingly sacrificed himself so that we might live.

The day it does draw near!

I have suffered, but not greatly,

Lost, but not much.

I am just a man destined to do those things set before him.

Ron was a Marine who continuously devoted himself to the greater good of his men. He was a Marine though and through, in all matters concerning life, except when it came to Georgia Watson. He loved her deeply, as she did him.

Many times I think how ironic it is that of all the times you protected us, in the end, none of us could protect you. I miss you Sergeant Katz, both the Marine and the person, and I think of you EVERY day. Even though you're gone, I still carry the memory of you close to my heart.

Rest in peace, old friend. Till we meet again, SEMPER FI, Brother!

RONALD C. KATZ is honored on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial

Panel 29W, Row 30

Click here to listen...Semper Fideles     Click here to listen...Marine Hymn

   USMC Photo

Khe San Memory

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During the months of August and September 1968, Mike Company and 3/4 would return to our very own valley of death, Khe San.

The mission was to recover American bodies left behind after the siege. My first thought was that this must be some kind of HOT covert operation. Who the hell ever left any of their fallen comrades on the battlefield!I never did find the answer, but incredibly, three days into a 27 day operation, we recovered five very badly decomposed American bodies w/ Dog Tags.

Flying back to the valley was like traveling back in time.  Back in history to a place only a few would ever see or experience. Khe San had long since been bulldozed into the ground, and any physical remnant of the combat base was almost non-existent. The landscape, for the most part, resembled that of the moon, with giant craters saturating the area as far as the eye could see.

What you couldn't see is what had everyone spooked. This was especially true after we started recovering our fallen brothers. It was in the air and on the wind. It was the spirit of brave men from both sides who had met their death. As night fell you could feel the power of this hallowed ground
growing ever stronger. It was a constant battle to maintain your mental and emotional discipline so the power wouldn't overwhelm you.

Walking that valley floor the second time around is something I will never forget. The sights, smells, and the silence, except for the wind, has played on my mind for 33 years.  To this day I can't explain what it was, but I know it was real.  Everyone out there knew it was real, the living and the dead.

Although we went back into the area several more times over the next year we never made contact with Charlie.  Each time was the same, old shallow graves, rusted out equipment, and bunkers that hadn't seen human occupancy in months.  The jungle was slowly and methodically reclaiming what was rightfully hers. All that remained unchanged was the wind, always that damn wind. Forever blowing, moaning and sorrowful.

© Jim Vible, Ghost Dancer-The Lone Warrior

De mortuis nil nisi bonum
Of the dead (say) nothing but good

The Charge Of The Light Brigade

Half a league half a league
Half a league onward
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred:
'Forward the Light Brigade
Charge for the gun' he said
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Forward the Light Brigade!
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier new
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why;
Theirs but to do & die,
Into the Valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to the right of them,
Cannon to the left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd thunder'd;
Storm at with shot shell,
Boldly they ride well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to the right of them,
Cannon to the left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd thunder'd;
Storm at with shot shell,
While horse hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came through the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them
Left of the six hundred

When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder'd.
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!
Alfred, Lord Tennyson