This is an awesome story . . .
On April 20, 1968, SSgt. Tommy Belcher (USMC, Ret.) was a soldier in the 2d Batt., 9th Marines, near Khe Sanh, Vietnam. It was the middle of the Tet Offensive.

SSgt. Belcher and his platoon leader, a lieutenant, set out with a 35 man platoon to recover casualties from a convoy ambushed earlier that morning. Intelligence estimated that the Marines would face (at most) a dozen or so NVA regulars.

Instead, they ran smack into an enemy platoon. The Marines found themselves outnumbered, and took heavy casualties. The firefight lasted all afternoon. When it stopped, SSgt. Belcher's platoon had been reduced to seven men. The casualties included his platoon leader who had been badly wounded in the fighting. SSgt. Belcher took command of his badly hurt platoon. He had less than a squad of men available for combat.

Another platoon evacuated most of SSgt. Belcher's dead and wounded comrades; however, some casualties, including his wounded lieutenant, could not be evacuated before nightfall. That night, Belcher risked his life to help get the wounded lieutenant to an evacuation point.

The next morning, SSgt. Belcher led a group of marines to attempt to recover his four dead comrades. He was wounded later that day (saved from death when the bullet was deflected by a small New Testament he found during the recovery mission) and evacuated. At the local aid station, doctors cut his uniform and dog tags off of him while treating his injuries.

SSgt. Belcher wouldn't see his dog tags again for 37 years.

Flash forward. In 2002, Californian Stacey Hansen, traveled to Vietnam. While visiting Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon), Ms. Hansen felt led to do something for America's Vietnam veterans. In her own words:

I stepped into a cold, desolate museum that seemed like I was back in time. While upstairs, I entered an empty room except for some glass cases. Here I saw...a captured American Flag. It was such a strange sight to see. I was surprised, and then felt uncomfortable, disbelief and then anger began to boil inside. I thought, "Where is my axe?" The irrational thought entered my mind...how I would love to break the glass case and take the flag!

It was hard to leave that room. Downstairs, in the palace, I saw for the first time, Military Identification Tags ..."Dog Tags." I stood there for a long time just looking at them disconcertingly. Then, with my hands, I motioned to the Vietnamese girls behind the counter. They didn't speak an ounce of English, but understood that I was asking to look at the tags in the case. I wondered if they were real? I wondered why our government hadn't come over and bought everything up as there were old pins, medals (a purple heart), spectacles, brass bracelets, a canteen, Zippo lighters, a pair of military boots, a bowl, spoons, and a large communications radio. I thought they must be real, for the country was not saturated with tourism at all. English speaking people were hard to come by, and I didn't feel there were enough tourists for the tags, specifically, to be mass produced in an effort to generate revenue. The tags looked old, tattered, soiled, bent and rusted. There were not many of them. I bought them all.

It was difficult not to buy the other remnants...especially that purple heart. I had a budget, however, and needed to stick close to it. As I walked outside, my steps slowed. I took one of the tags out and looked at it closely as the traffic whizzed by. Suddenly, it dawned on me...maybe THIS was what I could do for the Veterans. Something so small and yet it was "something." That day, I decided to search for as many tags as I could find in the weeks to come. Even if they were not genuine, the optimist in me said, there had to be at least one tag that was real. And, if I could find that ONE family and return the tag, somehow everything up to this point would be worth it. Besides, I rationalized, the worst thing I would be doing would be contributing to their very poor economy.

Hansen returned to Vietnam last summer and bought more dog tags, including SSgt. Belcher's. Her story is worth reading in it's entirety. While returning a dog tag might seem like a trivial effort, veterans (and their families) seem to think otherwise. SSgt. Belcher's wife said that the effort "meant a lot to [Mrs. Belcher] and Tommy. Maybe because it's a part of him."

Hansen and her boyfriend, Bryan Marks, run a website listing the names from the tags she brought back from Vietnam. To date, Hansen has returned hundreds of dog tags to veterans friends or family members. Hansen does not accept any compensation or reimbursement for her actions. As Hansen's website declares "These tags are not for sale!"

Thank you, Ms. Hansen. Your deeds are the very definition of patriotism.
- posted by MrSpkr @ 09:42