University of Virginia Library

7. Gregory G. Gardner (Choctaw)

Gregory G. Gardner, of Choctaw descent paternally, enlisted in the United States Army in 1969, at the age of seventeen. His father, Billy G. Gardner, is a retired U.S. Army Sergeant-Major and served a tour of duty in Vietnam between 1967 and 1968. For some time, Gregory Gardner was involved with a local forum concerning MIA and POW issues. He was assigned to the 23rd Infantry Division as a rifleman in 1971, and became a squad leader during his tour of duty. Gardner expresses his wish to reconnect with his paternal American Indian heritage, and was, at the age of forty, just beginning to explore certain aspects of his experiences in Vietnam and how they have affected his life.

Gardner's Letter

I have been somewhat hesitant in responding to the notice in the Bishnick Paper from several months ago regarding Choctaws, with stories, who had served in Vietnam. I am still not certain that I could enhance any of your research or aid your project in any way. However, I did wish to convey some thoughts or feelings of mine and hope that they may be of some value to you.

I am of Choctaw descent on my father's side of the family. My father is a retired Army Sergeant-Major. So, much of my youth was spent traveling and relocating through this wonderful country of ours. My father, Billy G. Gardner, was sent to Vietnam in 1967-68, as I recall. That was possibly the worst year of my life, even harder on me than the year that I spent in Vietnam. It seemed a constant worry for me, my father being where he was, and it seemed I had a burning desire to be there in his place. For me to go to Vietnam, I feel, was part of my destiny.

My thoughts have changed some on the Vietnam era since I have grown older. As I recall, I went to Vietnam in 1971, at the age of nineteen. I remember when I came home I still could not buy alcohol in Texas. That used to be a major concern then, being able to buy alcohol. I was young and looked on Vietnam from the viewpoint of America fighting Communist aggression. In a way I still have that minority opinion. I think I keep that feeling because I do not want to believe all those lives were destroyed for greed and power. I felt it was a fight to free people and let them rule their country, just as America was able to be free. If I can hold on to that belief, I think I can live with the memories and the tragedies and joys of Vietnam.

My thoughts now are that it was a war that was not meant to be won. We continue to leave too many stones unturned. My thoughts tear me up when I think of the MIA and POW issues. I was involved in a local forum for a period of time regarding the MIA/POWs. This was perhaps therapy for myself. I still believe there are many unanswered questions on this subject. But I am not able to find the answers.

That is probably as much of my philosophy as you want to hear, so I will try to provide a brief synopsis of my Vietnam experience. I graduated from high school at

seventeen years of age and went immediately into the United States Army. I thought I would be a career soldier like my father, but it was not to be. My mom and dad had to sign for me to go in the Army, and my dad would only sign if I chose a field that would be of some value in later years. So I went in the Signal Corps, which was not where I wanted to be. A little more than a year later, I was to get my chance to re-enlist for the infantry and for a tour in Vietnam. I had a lot of pride and felt that I could be somebody in the rice paddies and jungles of Vietnam.

In 1971, I went to Vietnam, and was assigned to the 23rd Infantry Division, America l. This was the division that Lt. Calley was assigned to. As history would tell us, the My Lai massacre was the responsibility of Lt. Calley. Having met and talked to Lt. Calley for a brief evening out at Ft. Benning, Georgia and having been stationed with a member of his platoon from My Lai, I believe that there remain several unanswered questions there also. Anyway, Ft. Benning is a story in and of itself.

So in 1971, I went to Vietnam and was assigned to 23rd Infantry Division. We were in the Chi Lai and Da Nang areas of operation. I started out as a rifleman, but you learn and experience many different positions in an Infantry Squad because you never know when you will have to do that person's job. During my tour, I became a Squad Leader. I was pretty efficient with explosives, and for a time I was doing some Advisory work in the Hue and Phu Bai areas. This was when the 101st Airborne Division was standing down—coming home—and part of what was left of our Division went up North to occupy their area.

Vietnam for me was part of my youth, part of growing up; it had good and bad times. Some of our best times were coming in from the field, jungle, and going to the clubs in what was referred to as the rear. With rockets and sapper attacks, this was not always the best place to be, either. But we found some good times there.

I suppose one of my most outstanding experiences, though, was when I was fired on by three of my own men while on ambush. We were on a mountain range in an area out from Da Nang called Charlie Ridge. This was like an NVA base camp built into the mountain. We set up. I put out the mechanical ambushes, claymore mines that were booby-trapped and daisy-chained together. I seemed to be good at this, and was pretty effective. My machine gunner was with me; in case I got killed he would know where they were and how to avoid them. We got back to the ambush site and lay there several hours, into the still of the night. This was a pretty active area not only for Charlie, but also for the NVA, since it was their base camp, or so we had been told. Well, three of my men were returned to me that day in the field. They had been detained in the rear because I caught them buying cocaine from the Vietnamese. We inventoried their belongings and found they had been taking to the field—the bush.

Well, I figured they had an extra few days rest in the rear, so I made them go on ambush that night with me, my machine gunner and my RTO [radiotelephone operator]. Time passed on; we waited and watched and listened. All of the sudden, the silence was broken when all three of these guys opened fire on my position. I had my M-16 ready to blast back, but realized if I did then my other two positions would probably open fire on me. One round tore across my foot, and it felt like I was hit. Well, it wasn't bad, as we found out later. They had stopped after each emptied his magazine at me. My RTO wanted to get a dust off in for me, but we were in too thick, and I didn't want to attract

any more attention. They would have had a time trying to pull in those mechanical ambushes at night, so we held on.

One of the guys I can remember so vividly because he had been assigned to us from the 101st Airborne Division. The report I had even before this night was that they disbanded his squad from the unit he was assigned to because they had killed their squad leader on ambush one night. We got back to the CP, Command Post, the next morning and I got checked out and the CO, Company Commander, debriefed me. I was told it would be hard to prosecute these three, because all they needed to say was that it was dark, and they were disoriented. Well, they got shipped out somewhere else, and no one was seriously hurt.

I hold on to this memory because it showed me a lot about people. I am probably not as trusting toward other people these days as I once was. I do recall my machine gunner coming to me and saying,

And the one guy I remember so well crawled to my position and said Duke was my nickname in those days. I have looked back on that particular night many times and thought, what if I would have said ? But then I realize I wouldn't have lived up to my nickname, and probably wouldn't be what I am today—still believing in truth, justice and the American way. I finally got out of the Army (throwing away eight years), got a degree and became a policeman.

I have been reluctant to try to write anything about that era of my life. A lot of it did not turn out so good. But this experience, as hard as it is for me to accept what happened or why it happened, if I had given into temptation and had taken those three lives, I really think my life would be so much different. I can accept my actions for any lives that were taken in combat. That was, to me, unavoidable.

There were a lot of good times there also. I hope nobody forgets them. Some of them, of course, are better left untold.

I have a habit of rambling, when I talk and when I write. I must apologize for that. I hope that this little story is worthwhile for you. I was not certain what you would like or what type of format you preferred, so I just sat down and started this letter.

I am, at the age of forty, just now becoming more in tune with my proud heritage. I am not able to spend much time learning of my ancestors nor can I afford much at this time, but I hope there will come a day when I can devote more to these proud, wonderful people.

My dad mentioned writing, I hope he does. His name is Billy G. Gardner and he was in Vietnam, as I recall, in 1967-68. He is from Bennington, Oklahoma.

Thank you for this opportunity to share with you one of life's most interesting moments for me and how one moment or one decision can change our destiny.