Posted on 05/27/2002 7:44:48 AM PDT by Slam
AMERICANS SLOW TO RECOGNIZE VALOR OF 'MURDER INC.'
The academics write their mighty histories. The politicians dictate their memoirs. The retired generals give their speeches. The intellectuals record their ironic epiphanies. And in all this hubbub attending wars either lost or won, the key man is forgotten - the lonely figure crouched in the bushes, wishing he were somewhere else: the man with the rifle.
Such a man has just died, and his passing will be marked elsewhere only in small, specialized journals with names such as Leatherneck and Tactical Shooter and in the Jesuitical culture of the Marine Corps, where he is still fiercely admired.
And in some quarters, even that small amount of respect will be observed with skepticism. After all, he was merely a grunt. He fought in a bad war. But, worst of all, he was a sniper.
Gunnery Sgt. (Ret.) Carlos N. Hathcock II, USMC, died Feb. 22 (1999) at 57 in Virginia Beach, Va., after a long decline in the grip of the only enemy he wasn't able to kill: multiple sclerosis. In the end, he didn't recognize his friends. But he had quite a life. In two tours in the 1960s, he wandered through the Republic of South Vietnam, and with a rifle made by Winchester, a heart made by God and a discipline made by the Marine Corps, he stalked and killed 93 of his country's enemies. And that was only the official count.
It's not merely that Vietnam was a war largely without heroes. It's also that the very nature of Hathcock's heroism was a problem for so many. He killed, nakedly and without warning. The line troops called him ''Murder Inc.'' behind his back. When they kill, it's in hot blood, in a haze of smoke and adrenaline.
But the sniper is different. He reduces warfare to its purest element, the destruction of another human being. He learns things no man can learn - how it looks through a scope when you center-punch an enemy at 200 yards, and how it feels - but he learns them at the risk of his own possible exile from the community.
Maybe Hathcock never cared much for the larger community, but only the Marine Corps and its mission. ''Vietnam,'' he told a reporter in 1987, ''was just right for me.''
And one must give Hathcock credit for consistency: In all the endless revising done in the wake of our second-place finish in the Southeast Asia war games, he never reinvented himself or pretended to be something he wasn't. He remained a true believer to the end, not in his nation's glory or its policies, but in his narrower commitment to the Marine code of the rifle. He was salty, leathery and a tough Marine Corps professional NCO, even in a wheelchair. His license plate said it: SNIPER.
''Hell,'' he once said, ''anybody would be crazy to like to go out and kill folks. . . . I never did enjoy killing anybody. It's my job. If I don't get those bastards, then they're going to kill a lot of these kids. That's the way I look at it.''
Though he was known for many years as the Marine Corps' leading sniper - later, a researcher uncovered another sniper with a few more official kills - he took no particular pleasure in the raw numbers.
''I'll never look at it like this was some sort of shooting match, where the man with the most kills wins the gold medal,'' he once said.
The only decoration for valor that he won was for saving, not taking, lives. On his second tour in Vietnam, on Sept. 16, 1969, he was riding atop an armored personnel carrier when it struck a 500-pound mine and erupted into flames. Hathcock was knocked briefly unconscious, sprayed with flaming gasoline and thrown clear. Waking, he climbed back aboard the burning vehicle to drag seven other Marines out. Then, ''with complete disregard for his own safety and while suffering excruciating pain from his burns, he bravely ran back through the flames and exploding ammunition to ensure that no Marines had been left behind,'' according to the citation for the Silver Star he received in November 1996 after an extensive letter-writing campaign by fellow Marines had failed to win him the Medal of Honor for his exploits with a rifle.
He was equally proud that as a sniper-platoon sergeant on two tours, no man under his command was killed. ''I never lost a person over there,'' he told a visiting journalist in 1995. ''Never lost nobody but me, and that wasn't my fault.''
Hathcock was an Arkansan, from a dirt-poor broken home, who joined the Marine Corps at 17. He qualified as an expert rifleman in boot camp and began quickly to win competitive shooting events, specializing in service-rifle competition.
He went to Vietnam in 1965, but it was six months before the Marines learned the value of dedicated sniper operations and a former commanding officer built a new unit around his talents. Hathcock took no liberty, no days off, and toward the end of his first tour finally was restricted to quarters to prevent him from going on further missions.
After the war, he suffered from the inevitable melancholy. Forced medical retirement from the Corps in 1979 - he had served 19 years, 10 months, 5 days - led to drinking problems and extended bitterness. The multiple sclerosis, discovered in 1975, certainly didn't help, and burns that covered 43 percent of his body made things even more painful. But what may have saved his life was the incremental recognition that came his way. His biography, Marine Sniper, written by Charles Henderson, was published in 1985. It sold more than half a million copies.
He authorized a poster that showed him in full combat regalia, crouched over his Model 70 Winchester, his face blackened, his boonie cap scrunched close to his head, the only identifier being a small sprig of feather in its band. In fact, a long-range .308-caliber ammunition was sold as ''White Feather,'' from the Vietnamese Long Tra'ng, his nickname. He appeared in several videos, where he revealed himself to be a practically oriented man of few but decisive words, with a sense of humor dry as a stick. He inspired several novels and at least two non-fiction books, and his exploits made it onto TV, where a JAG episode featured a tough old Marine sniper.
Finally, and perhaps best of all, he ascended to a special kind of Marine celebrity. The Corps honors its best marksman with the annual Carlos Hathcock Award. A Marine library in Washington, D.C., has been named after him, and a Virginia Civil Air Patrol unit named itself after him. In 1990, a Marine unit raised $5,000 in donations to fight multiple sclerosis and presented it to him at his home. They brought it to him the Marine way: They ran 216 miles from Camp Lejeune, N.C., to Virginia Beach.
According to the account in the Norfolk (Va.) Virginian-Pilot, the old sniper told the men, ''I am so touched, I can hardly talk.''
In the end, he could not escape the terrible disease that had been discovered in 1975. But death, with whom he had an intimate relationship, at least came to him quietly - as if out of respect.
Maybe the present administration would have another look?
He doesn't have mine. While there is no doubt he was a great Marine,he didn't do anything to deserve the MOH. It ain't a "good old boy" award. Read some of the citations for yourself and you will see what I mean.
There were other things that Carlos was given. He has a range named after him, and the respect of every person in uniform.
Semper Fi Carlos!
Garde la Foi, mes amis! Jamais reculez á tyrannie un pouce!
(Keep the Faith, my friends! Never give an inch to tyranny!)
LonePalm, le Républicain du verre cassé (The Broken Glass Republican)
Oh, PLEASE.
The assassination of the NVA General *alone* is enough for Gunny Hathcock to have received the Medal of Honor.
I respect very few humans, and I am in absolute awe of this man.
Oh, I've read them.
I suppose holding down an entire company of enemy singlehandledly for 5 days while living on chocolate bars in the 100 degree heat isn't good enough for you either?
(Of course, then again, Hathcock's commanding general turned down suggestions that Hathcock be extracted, since he knew Hathcock was capable of keeping any number of enemy pinned down singlehandledly, so maybe you have a point).
Hathcock was the best rifleman in the world. Hathcock won the Wimbledon Cup. Hathcock... Oh, never mind. You must just not understand.
The CMH is barely, *barely* enough for this man...
No,it's not.
I respect very few humans, and I am in absolute awe of this man.
While there is no doubt his deeds make him worthy of respect,it doesn't mean he earned a MOH.
And what did Santa bring you for Christmas?
(Of course, then again, Hathcock's commanding general turned down suggestions that Hathcock be extracted, since he knew Hathcock was capable of keeping any number of enemy pinned down singlehandledly, so maybe you have a point).
HorseHillary! Notice how the ONLY valor award he received was for the incident where the APC ran over a mine? IF Hathcock had done what is claimed and this USMC General were aware of it,don't you think he would have received at LEAST a Silver Star then? He would have most likely gotten a Navy Cross. But then again,we ALL know how much USMC Generals hate all the publicity the USMC gets when they hand out medals,right?
hcock was the best rifleman in the world. Hathcock won the Wimbledon Cup. Hathcock...
Both are true statements. Neither has anything to do with earning a Medal of Honor.
... Oh, never mind. You must just not understand.
I understand perfectly. I have stood in formation and been friends with 3 different MOH winners. My first company commander on Okinawa won a MOH in Korea as a Master Sgt who was I THINK 19 at the time. His name was Ola Mize,and he single-handlt killed at least 10 Chinese with a entrenching tool,and ran the entire platoon off the hill with it when they started executing the wounded GI's he had just spent all night trying to save. This was after he had been wounded several times himself,but was the only mobile man left in his company. He had spent all night moving from machine gun position to machine gun position to keep them off the hill. He finally decided to surrender at dawn when he ran out of ammo,figuring he could stay with his fellow GI's and attend to their wounds,rather than E&E to another US held position. It was after he had already surrendered and the Chinese starting sticking bayonets into his wounded comrades that he went nuts,grabbed the entrenching tool,and went after them.
The CMH is barely, *barely* enough for this man...
This right here is proof YOU don't understand. The MOH is ONLY given to those who commit acts of supreme bravery with no consideration given to their own safety. These acts almost always involved great personal risk while repeatedly exposing yourself to enemy fire in order to save the lives of your fellow soldiers,Marines,or sailors. Most never survive their action,and those who do are usually so shot-up that they spend months in a hospital recovering. To say that a "MOH is barely enough for this man" is to insult the memory of all those who HAVE earned it.
He learns things no man can learn - how it looks through a scope when you center-punch an enemy at 1200 yards, and how it feels...
the Legend lives on and the Marines will never forget!
Semper Fi
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