In August of 1971, “Take Me Home, Country Roads” was a certified
gold record. Billy Danoff and John Denver’s song accompanied me
across the Pacific and when I landed in Vietnam, it was playing on
the Bien Hoa Air Force Base loud speaker as we had hunkered down in
the bunker shortly after we got off the plane. When I arrived at Phu
Loi later that morning to join the 2nd Squadron, the song was
playing on LT Dave Kennedy’s radio as he signed me in. “West
Virginia, almost heaven, Country roads, the place where I belong” –
those lyrics followed me to the Firebase and then to E, F and G
Troop. I heard it in Cu Chi. I heard it on top of the Nui Ba Den
mountain while we waited-out a rocket barrage: “West Virginia,
mountain mama, take me home, country roads.” I heard it in Phu Lo,
Long Binh, Plantation, Long Than North, Ben Cat, and even in Saigon.
And, of course it was playing at Fiddlers’ Green, as the last Troop
of the 2nd Squadron left the firebase and road-marched back to Phu
Loi. That was a little over 50 years ago.
I am not from West Virginia, though I often drove through the
Panhandle and once run in an Invitational Track meet there in 1955.
That meet was held on an island in the middle of the Ohio River, in
the city of Wheeling. My first cigars came from that city; they were
Marsh Wheeling stogies and I carried them to Vietnam. John Denver
had never stopped in the “almost heavenly” state before he first
sang the song in Georgetown in December of 1970. The songwriter,
Billy Danoff, had never been to West “By-God” Virginia, when he
wrote the song while driving through Maryland. But Maryland didn’t
rhyme or fit with the other lyrics, so he tried West Virginia; and
it became a West Virginia state song. All of a sudden, every lad in
the Nam, every Vietnamese torch singer, adopted that state song.
It was a life saver. Along with a malaria pill and a flak-jacket, we
needed a dose of that melody every day. Few words of comfort or
encouragement give hope to the homesick, or provide a goal for those
counting down on their fingers and toes. Coming home to West
Virginia, walking along dusty roads, crossing the Shenandoah River
and climbing mountain “Mama” - even drinking moonshine, brought a
tear drop to our eyes and inspired us.
We sang it more than 99 times on our way home from Vietnam, it was
playing when the plane touched down in Guam, and the melody even
followed the forlorn announcement that our flight would be diverted
to Oakland. The bedraggled hippies, flower children and druggies
were protesting at the “Fran-san-cisco” airport and some
[limp-wristed authority figure] thought they were more dangerous
than the Viet Cong. As for the airport, that’s not a misspelling;
that’s the way a number of returning veterans were pronouncing it
after emptying a few glass bottles of Kentucky’s finest making the
rounds on the charter flight home.
Fifty years ago. That song played on my arrival in Vietnam and was
playing when I came home. Would it have been as great a hit record,
had there not been a Vietnam War? It may have been a war protest
song, but it was also an uplifting anthem for all the lads and
lasses who served their year … or more, so far away from the Blue
Ridge mountains.
Country roads still takes me home, to the land where I belong. West
Virginia is still today, the Land of the Free and the Home of the
Brave. It is still called “almost heaven,” and though I still don’t
live there, nor visit often, I admire the folks who persevere and
have a resolute love of country.
Now 50 years later, I still see, and read and hear about Vietnam
veterans and often with the adjective “resolute” - plugged-in. I
read a lot of obituaries these days, death notices about men who
garnered Silver Stars, Purple Hearts, Bronze Stars, Combat Medic
Badges and Air Medals for their service in Vietnam and some, for
Korea as well. Those obituaries are forwarded to me usually by Pete
Walter our past 11th ACVVC President or Allen Hathaway, Chairman of
Operations Embrace as well as other Officers of the Board of
Directors. I also get notices from Sheryl Myers of our Women’s
Group, and even from our troopers: many of you.
We contact the surviving spouse, or family members of each of fallen
brother to express our condolences. Their families really appreciate
the fact, that their loved ones, their veteran, is not forgotten. We
print their names in the Fiddler’s Green section of our newsletter
and announce their name at our Annual Reunion Memorial Service. All
important to their families … a gravitas meaning for our veterans’
organization. In almost all those obituaries or death notices, we
find that, not only were our Vietnam brothers stalwart warriors, but
also “resolute” in their contributions to their communities, their
families, their churches and their country, once they returned home.
I am so amazed at how unselfishly so many of them have given of
their time, how deep was their devotion, how extensive was their
touch, how resolute was their service to their fellow Americans.
Again and again, I read of superb accomplishments, of outstanding
public service, of new vistas created in education, health, law
enforcement, science and the arts, that some of our guys spearheaded
in their resolution to provide for their families and to better the
lives of their fellow-citizens. Once they returned from Vietnam,
they continued to serve as resolutely as they did while with the
11th Cavalry Regiment.
“Resolute” is not just the name of the President’s desk in the Oval
Office, it is a characteristic developed under stress, sometimes
failure, but mostly resolve - a character flaw that is positive.
And, we take it for granted; we seldom hear of it until we read an
obituary.
But once we read those obituaries, all of a sudden, we are proud
that we knew that guy, and even served with him. We are proud to
have worn the same uniform, the same shoulder patch. We pray that we
too will be remembered for that character flaw, of being resolute.
How resolute are we, or have we been? How can we answer that
question? I read the answer this past month in a response from the
wife of a Marine Corps Vietnam veteran who had recently passed. It
may not have been original as it is a definition that we may have
read before. But as a Vietnam veteran’s surviving spouse, Patty
Grodis Steberger, wrote: “A Veteran – whether active duty,
discharged, retired, or reserve – is someone who, at one point in
his life, wrote a blank check made payable to The United States of
America for an amount of up to, and including his life. That is an
honor, that is being resolute, and there are way too many people in
this country today, who no longer understand that fact.”
Do not fail to let us know of the death of one of our 11th Cav
family members, contact any one of the Board of Directors. Go to the
wake or funeral service if you are in the area. Let their family
know he was one of us; our brother, even if he had that character
flaw of being - resolute. He was a Blackhorse Trooper.
LYRICS for Country Roads
Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, growin ' like a breeze
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain mama
Take me home, country roads
All my memories gather 'round her
Miner's lady, stranger to blue water
Dark and dusty, painted on the sky
Misty taste of moonshine, teardrop in my eye
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain mama
Take me home, country roads
I hear her voice in the mornin' hour, she calls me
The radio reminds me of my home far away
Drivin' down the road, I get a feelin'
That I should've been home yesterday, yesterday
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain mama
Take me home, country roads
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain mama
Take me home, country roads
Take me home, (down) country roads
Take me home, (down) country roads
Source: Lyric Find
Songwriters: Bill Danoff / John Denver / Taffy Nivert Danoff
