Keep Veterans in Mind on Wednesday (Veterans Day)

By Daniel P. Cotter

            With another Veterans Day upon us, once again, I felt a desire to express some thoughts regarding the U.S. military veterans.

            Actually I would like to tell the story of one vet in particular.  Aside from the specific details of his service, this vet's case is mostly typical and quite representative of pretty much all the veterans who were called into the military and served their country with honor.  This is the story of a single day, back in 1969, in the "tour of duty" of an average guy from a very unassuming "run of the mill" South Oak Park (Illinois) neighborhood.  But first a little background.

            In 1968 Johnny Pudelek, my all-time best friend, responded to the call of his country when he was drafted - just after graduating from high school.  John and I had grown up together on the 500 block of south Taylor Avenue.  We had played ball in the alley for countless hours at a time, gone to Sox games, and generally just hung out during those precious short years of childhood.

Huge Adjustment

            Now John was gone to the Army and I found that his absence was going to be a huge adjustment.  John's story is the story of all the veterans who were sent off to fight in Vietnam (or any war, for that matter).  He and they are quiet, unsung heroes.  They endured, what for the rest of us has to be, the unimaginable - the fear, pain, suffering and sometimes death which they experienced as they followed the orders of their superiors.  There are days such as Memorial Day and Veterans Day set in place on the calendar for the purpose of remembering these vets and their sacrifices.  Regardless, though, people still seem to forget them, or at best just take them for granted.  I think that they should always be appreciated and honored.  Vietnam, unlike World War II, was a confusing issue for the American people.  Regardless though, of the political forces behind that war, the vets who served there should still be accorded our appreciation or at least our understanding.

            My buddy, Johnny Pudelek, served in Vietnam as the driver of an M-48 tank in the Army's 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment.  His actions during a ferocious enemy ambush on a day back in 1969 earned for him the highly regarded Bronze Star for heroism and courage under fire.

            John also received the Purple Heart for the wounds which he suffered that day.  Very few people outside of his Army comrades know anything of the details of that afternoon back in '69.

            I feel privileged to be one of those who know even part of what took place that day.  On that fateful occasion, John was driving the lead tank, in a column of tanks, traveling in their characteristic single-file manner, down a narrow jungle road.  John's tank was towing another M-48 tank that had previously hit a mine and had become disabled.  He told me that they had just finished hooking up the other tank and had begun the laboriously slow task of towing it out of the way, to a point where the rest of the column could then be able to pass, when a terrific explosion rocked and lifted his tank off the ground.

            John thought at first that his tank had now also hit a mine, but then, "all hell broke loose" as tremendous firing began from both his own tank's crewmen and the enemy force whom they were presently confronted with.  His tank's main gun roared and hot shell casings from the .50 caliber machine gun, up above him on the turret, cascaded down his back.  He was engulfed in smoke, deafened by the noise and soaked wet by blood emanating from the wounds he had suffered to his head and neck in the explosion.  John's tank had not struck a mine but had been targeted by enemy rocket-propelled grenades.

            The ambush was designed to knock out the lead tank, thus blocking the way for the rest of the column, and then destroy the following tanks right down the line.  When the firing began, John knew what was taking place.  He knew, in an instant, what the set-up was and what had to be done.  John had to clear the way so that the rest of the tank column could get through in safety.  He knew he had to get to the side of the narrow jungle road so that the others could pass.

            John told me that he "punched" the gas with determination and, even though terrified and confused, kept his composure and did what he had to do.  He was thinking of the guys behind him, trapped if he couldn't get out of the way.  John told me that during those horrifying moments, a seeming eternity, his thoughts also went to back home and of playing catch in the alley, here, behind our house on the 500 block of South Taylor Avenue.  When he hit the gas and began maneuvering his tank and the disabled tank out of the way he said that he was, in his mind, heading for home.  Not back to his unit's base camp or even to the side of that jungle road in Vietnam, but home here in Oak Park - home to Taylor Avenue.

Ambush Thwarted

            John kept going, amid the savage firing coming his way.  Crawling along at no more than 2 or 3 mph towing that disabled 50-ton tank he indeed managed to get to the side of that road and thus the ambush was thwarted.

            After the battle had subsided a medical "Dust-Off" helicopter came in and took John out to a hospital unit.  He would not get home on that occasion, though, as he was patched up and within two weeks sent back to his outfit.

John would serve a 12-month tour of duty in Vietnam.  He would be wounded a second time, in another action and would receive another Purple Heart.

            When he came home it was quietly and without any fanfare, as it was for all the other GIs returning home from Vietnam.  John didn't ask for any special attention back then and wouldn't want any now, he did his job - served his country, and that has always been reward enough.

            I think he deserves to have his story told.  He still carries shrapnel in his neck from the enemy RPG and spent many weeks at Hines VA Hospital throughout the early '70s.  The terror of Vietnam lingers on the back burner of John's mind every day of his life.  This is the way it is for all of our U.S. military veterans - let us not forget them, for we owe them so much.

(John W. Pudelek served in H Company, 2nd Squadron, 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment, June 1969 - June 1970.  He is a LIFE member of the 11th ACVVC)

Reprinted from the Pioneer Press, Wednesday, November 10, 1999.