Written after the 2004 Washington Reunion, printed with the author's permission.

February 3- 4, 1967 will never be forgotten by the Marines of 2nd Platoon, A Company "Alpha Deuce". On a hill in I Corps, eleven of our platoon was over run by the NVA and four brave Recon teammates died. "The night on that hill was the worst of my life. I'd never been so afraid before or felt so helpless. It was the classic "what can go wrong, will go wrong" situation. When all your training, effort, determination can't prevent what becomes the obvious ending. After being wounded repeatedly, I could hardly move anymore. I finally just lay there on my back, which was the only position I was able to breathe with my collapsed left lung, and I began to beg God to spare my life. I started to beg him to see my family just one more time, to have one more chance to live… you know, all those things that you take for granted, including God, when there seems to be enough time in your life. I'd been raised a Christian, taken to church by my parents, heard the word of God, went through the motions to please my parents (in my arrogance, I even figured to fake out God), but then said or did what I wanted, when I wanted, all the while forsaking my religious beliefs whenever it was convenient or, rather, inconvenient to balance them against what I wanted to do at the moment. I believed in God, in the Christian teachings, but only to the point where they didn't interfere with my youthful sampling of life. I never really spoke to God in a meaningful way-could never say that I paid him much attention. But now, life had brought me to that hill. My friends and comrades, in pain, were wounded and dying all around me. I lay there, talking to God about saving "me", and the only response I heard was the continuing sounds of battle, of comrades in pain, and the silence of the dead Marines around me. I don't know why or when, but the "truth" of life finally became very apparent to me-how I've not walked this life alone but shared the path with others, and how interwoven each life is with the others. So, I quit begging God to let me live. I accepted my death-I prayed to God to spare my friends there with me, and if not, to allow their deaths to be quick and merciful. I then asked God if he would do me a favor until he decided it was my time-my chest & stomach burned like raging fires, I couldn't breathe without gasping for air, and the pain of my wounds was of an intensity that I never suffered before. I was so hot- like I was burning up inside. I asked God if he would make the pain go away or at least subside so I could feel cool at the end. At that instant, the pain flowed from my body like water draining from a sink-I took my first breath without struggle or discomfort- and a cool breeze brushed against my face. I knew my prayers had been answered by my God-that He had never left me nor felt betrayed by my youthful arrogance and answered the greatest question of any life- does God really exist? Yes, we all say that God is real, that we believe, and that we believe without seeing but I was given a gift that most horrible night of my life- the gift of being touched by God! I survived that night of nights-I came out of the darkness. I took that gift, and over the course of my life, I made mistake after mistake and poor choice after poor choice; however, interwoven through my life, at intervals between all those human failures, God has given me gifts of unsurpassed joy (my wife, Bea, my children and my grandchildren, and the reunion with my recon brothers). Yet, on my darkest days, when walking through life makes me so tired, I'm reminded of that night when I finally spoke to God with my heart and He heard me and answered with His love given the truth that He is real. This is what I wanted to tell you months ago but couldn't find the words. I've always had a difficult time trying to express what happened that night in mere words or why He stroked my forehead with the cool breeze & placed his hand on my chest to draw out the pain but He did and I was blessed. God has continued to bless my life, to remind me that I'm never alone as I walk this path, and despite all of my humanity, he will never desert me."

Thanks for allowing me to share this with you, Dave.

Semper fi,

Your brother, Jim

Share your inspirational wartime experiences with your fellow Recon Marines. E-mail your story to dlbacker@comcast.net or mail it to:Dave Backer 665 Collins Crest Gladstone, Or. 97027