Eric England R.I.P.

My old ship-mate distant cousin died yesterday.  I only met him one time at a Hunter Reunion.  I took his picture because I thought our meeting was unique because at our only meeting we discovered we were both on the ship USS NEWPORT NEWS at the same time..  Later I learned he was one of the top, if not the top, sniper(s) in the Vietnam War.  From what I know, I think he was a very humbled and shy person.

I heard a few days ago they were about to amputate his leg.  Maybe that did him in.

I remember at our own meeting we talked about the NEWPORT NEWS.  I told him what I hated the most about shipboard life for enlisted men was that no matter when you go to the "head" for a bowel movement, the toilets are lined up facing one another, and it is always crowded, even in the middle of night, so when you take a shit you will be touching knees with someone you don't know very well.  He got a kick out of that.

Google Eric England and you will meet an interesting person.

Eric England, Hero

Do you remember my blog on December 15^th, 2017, about Eric England, sniper hero?

Eric is undergoing serious surgery today.   Wish him a quick recovery.  If it were not for people of Eric's caliber you might not have the freedoms you  enjoy  today.

Click here to see other post of Eric on this Blog

SUNDAY FUNNIES! ACES HIGH's IRON MAN!

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This  a story of America vs Nazi dog fights in WWII.  It also has an eerie twang to it.  The cover was illustrated by George Evans and the story was  illustrated by Georgia corn-fed MAD artist Jack Davis.

There is a message of what  is often the bottom line of what happens to many people who fight in war.

Fife in War

The fife is a symbol of one of the musical instruments played in the Revolutionary War. 

It was also played in the War of 1812.  In the War of 1812 my g-g-g- grandfather Greenville Pullen (1788-1860)  was a military musician who tooted a fife.  Here is what I have on him and his fife:

He was in the War of 1812.   Enlisted in Milledgeville, Ga., in 1814 for a term of eighteen months.  He was discharged at Fort Jack, near Savannah, Ga.  He enlisted as a private and later was appointed musician, a fifer for the company.  Records show he was discharged after both arms were broken in an accident while at work on barracks.

-Paul Pullen

Maybe Greenville didn't play very well and some of his barrack friends thought if both arms were broken he would not be able to hold the fife.

Fort Sumter, the First Shot In the Civil War

This is Memorial Day Weekend.   This weekend we are trying to show appreciation for the American military.    So, here is another true war story, illustrated.

The time we went to war with ourselves.   We won.  We lost.  The actual first shot was fired at Fort Sumter in Charleston Bay, South Carolina, on April 12, 1861.  It was the first shot to start this nation's Civil War.

By the way, once we took a tour of Fort Sumter Island, out in the Charleston Bay.  Did you know it is not a natural island?  Huge rocks were shipped down the coast from New England and the rocks and boulders were dumped in the exact spot over and over.  Can you imagine how huge of a project this was?  Without the use of power machinery.... it boggles my mind to even think of the huge task involved.

The story was written by  EC's FRONTLINE COMBAT  Comicbook's editor Harvey Kurtzman, but to be honest, History wrote really wrote it.  Will Elder and John Severin  were the artists.

Kurtzman, Elder, and Severin were long time friends and business partners.  They were three of the five original artistic staff of MAD Comicbook.

click on each image in order to make it larger so you can make sense of what it is about.

From EC's FRONTLINE COMBAT Comicbook, #9

Robert Gerald "Jerry" Hunter 1941-1966

Jerry Hunter was born about four months before me.  He lived with his family in Douglasville.  As small kids we sometimes played together as kids.  Honestly, we did not hit it off, we had two different lifestyles.  I was what would I call now a "free range" kid.  I had freedom do wander where I wanted and come back when I wanted (within reason).  Jerry, on the other hand, was raised to ask his parents' permission to leave the yard.

I think that the well-disciplined way of life paid off for him.  He graduated from Douglasville High school with honors and also graduated from Citadel Military College in Charleston as an military officer and a pilot.

He gave his life in the Viet Nam War.  He was shot down .

From the magazine LOOKING GOOD DOUGLAS COUNTY, Vol 1, Number 3, March/April 1988. Article JERRY HUNTER: he gave his life.  By Vicki Harsbarger.

Jerry Hunter, 25, was about to complete his 34th mission of the Vietnam War.

The two months he had spent in Vietnam had been filled with missions such as this one.  Supply lines were sought, supply lines were bombed.

The F-105 was a one-man jet requiring much expertise of the pilot.  He delivered his bombs directly on the targeted bridge.  The enemy fire hit the plane, he bailed out.  The pilots watched as the parachute disappeared from sight in the trees.

From the ground, a beeper signal was heard by the pilots.  They attempted a rescue, but enemy fire struck from the area of the area where the parachute had landed.  A second plane was hit, and the pilots were forced to return to base.

Two months later, American soldiers were able to search the place where Robert Gerald Hunter went down.  Laos natives took the men to the place where his body was buried.

Jerry began his final journey home to be buried in the town where he was voted most talented of Douglas County High School; where he dreamed of one day attending the Citadel; and where of dream of becoming a pilot began with an essay written on how Lindbergh's flight across the Atlantic would affect the future of aviation.

Awards came early for Jerry Hunter.  He was honored with other superlatives at Douglas County High School, with his claim to fame the title of Most Talented.  He was well known for his artistic talents, and worked as editor of the school yearbook.  He starred in the senior play.

"If anything happens to him, he's doing what he wants to do", his wife of one year, Laura Ann Milby, had said of Hunter.  His parents, Robert and Zelma, had suggested that he choose a line of work in keeping with his Citadel degree in business administration, but he would not settle for less than his dreams.

"He wanted to be the best." Zelma Hunter reminisces.  "He always wanted to be a good pilot.  He said if he made a good place for himself in the Air Force he would make a career of it or he would be become a commercial pilot," she said.

The handsome flyer passed all manner of physical tests toprove his fitness of pilot training, which he received at Moody Air Force Base in Valdosta following his graduation from the Citadel with honors.  Minor surgery was suffered twice by Hunter in order to fly the F-105, Mrs. Hunter said.

"He didn't want us to worry," Mrs. Hunter says lovingly of her son.  "I'd ask him on the telephone if he'd been shot at, wanting him to say no. He'd say, "Yes, but  they missed.  Don't worry about it, Mom, sometimes it's fun."

During the week while the Hunters awaited the return of Jerry's body, the Chamber of Commerce acting on a motion by Church of Christ Minister Richard Waggoner, passed a resolution recommending that the park be memorably named Hunter Park.

On July 18, 1966, the Hunters' hopes died with the news of their son's death and his returning body.  On July 22, funeral services were held at the Church where Jerry became a Christian, First Baptist Church of Douglasville.  The church was overflowing as the first Douglas County military and 11th Citadel victim of the Vietnam war was laid to rest.

Over 100 flags flew at Douglasville businesses, painstakingly placed there by the remembering hands of the Jaycees.  The town was subdued as businesses closed for the afternoon.

As faces were in unison at Rose Memorial Gardens Cemetery toward the casket containing the remains of Robert Gerald Hunter, the sound of planes roared overhead, urging the mourners to gaze upward.

Four planes flew across the horizon in unison, three planes returned.

This plane is a fixture at Douglasville's Robert Gerald Hunter's Memorial Park

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! ACES HIGH, Spads were Trump

This was illustrated by Bernard Krigstein,  on of the most outspoken cartoonists of his day.  I don't know who wrote the story, unless it was history itself. 

The Battle of Chicamauga

The Civil War is all around here in Marietta these days.  150 years ago this week was the Battle of Kennesaw Mountain, just a mile from downtown Marietta.   So, it is a good event to have a arts and craft festival.  They are also having Civil War Rein-actors (if that is the right word) to demonstrate Civil War equipment and  Technics.

I would like to do something related in the Sunday Funnies, the closest thing I can find is the Battle of Chicamauga September 1863, about 9 months earlier than our battle at Kennesaw.

Scripted by editor Harvey Kurtzamn and illustrated by Jack Davis.

Marietta National Cemetery, 2014

This past Saturday we dropped by the Marietta National Cemetery.  It is always beautiful and is full of heroes.  
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This is the grave of my fist cousin, once removed, or my father's first cousin

This is my late friend Sam Carley's father's memorial marker..  His section of the ship was hit by a Japanese Kamikaze plane.  His body was never found.

Visiting the Armed Fallen at the National Cemetery

Today we visited the Marietta National Cemetery.  There are thousands of dead people here who were in the service, and a large number of them gave their lives so we may speak, vote, and pray to whatever supreme being you choose.

Note- Click on each image to make it bigger and better.

This is a memorial for my late friend Sam Carsley's father who was lost at sea in WWII.  Sam died March of this year.  The red, white, and blue flowers are very new.  Sam's widow Lita probably is keeping his tradition going of faithfully putting flowers at loved ones graves.

The building in the center of the picture was the Coca Cola Bottling Company all through my formative years.  My father used to pull me up the hill from the Clay Homes in my wagon to this place, he bought a case of Cokes and I would walk back with him.

This marker has ALBERT BRAWNER on the side.  It said he was a medical officer.  I wonder if it is Doctor Brawner of Brawner's Sanitarium in Smyrna?

Above is a Medal of Honor receiver.  See the lady in the white tee-shirt below?  She walked up to the marker, patted it, and thanked him.  Then she randomly thanked other heroes.  I'm not sure she was aware of my presence of not.  Below she is sitting down chatting with a fallen hero, like comforting him.  She may see and understand more than I do.  I was tempted to make a video of her but I decided not to, I don't think it would be in good taste. 

Below and the rest of the pictures are the Cole family.  Henry Greene Cole, who was believed to be a Yankee spy, donated this land to bury Union Soldiers.  He reserved a little plot for his family.  Please excuse my shoes.  They sneaked right in the pictures.  Now, I see why some people call them "sneakers".