So... where's Joseph??

And, just who is this guy, anyway?

By the way, this page has nothing whatsoever to do with humidors. It has to do with a more serious issue. I'd appreciate your reading about him.


I met Joseph Nelson Hargrove a few years ago, after reading an article I found on a website in cyberspace. Since then, I've tried to get to know him, and two of his comrades-in-arms, Gary Hall and Danny Marshall, a little better. It's been tough, because people "in the know" don't really want to talk about them.

Why not?


A little background first:


If you don't recall, it started in 1975, about two weeks after a rather embarrassing pullout of Americans from the American embassy rooftop in Saigon. We were "officially" out of southeastern Asia, after losing THOUSANDS of American lives in a conflict that, in the way it was managed, could not be won. It was over.

During this time, communist Khmer Rouge forces had overthrown the U.S.-sanctioned government in Viet Nam's neighbor, Cambodia. These were the infamous killers controlled by the more infamous Pol Pot, a killer who's only peer I can think of is Adolph Hitler. His vision was to "return to the essence" of life in Cambodia... which, of course, meant slaughtering hundreds-of-thousands of fellow Cambodian citizens. The Khmer Rouge already had plenty of practice in murdering people.

What does this have to do with Joseph?

On 12 May, 1975, a boatload of Khmer Rouge terrorists challenged the SeaLand container ship S.S. Mayaguez off the coast of Cambodia. There was an island(in Cambodian waters) all the merchant ships used to cut inside of, to save time while on their way to Thailand. The Mayaguez captain, Miller, was no exception. He was cutting the same corner that trip, in spite of warnings about Rouge activity off the coast(a Dutch ship had been stopped the week before).

Wham... the same thing happened. A Rouge patrol boat buzzed them and fired a couple of machine-gun shots across her bow. But... instead of sailing on or turning out to sea, Miller chose to stop and let the Rouge board the ship. His third mate wanted to shoot a couple of them and run them off. Miller, however, was a "non-violent" person. He threw the ship's only means of defense, a .38 pistol, overboard before the Rouge even made it up the gangplank.

The result? The crew was hustled off the ship and onto a nearby island. The ship itself was moored off Koh Tang, a small island about midway between the coast of Cambodia and where they'd originally been stopped.

By this time, Washington had gotten wind of what was happening, and nobody liked it. Images of evacuees being helicoptered off of the embassy rooftop were still seared in the minds of the American public. The country's morale, and faith in the government, was at a wane. President Ford decided on action. It was time to do something to restore the people's faith.

A show of strength would be just the ticket. A plan to retake the Mayaguez and her crew was ordered... ASAP.

Ford & company decide the fate of hundreds of Marines and 41 Mayaguez crewmen over coffees and Danish at the White House.

Photo courtesy of your parent's tax dollars.


Meetings were held at the Pentagon. The Air Force was put in charge of coordinating the operation, to assure a central command and to make it run smoother. Plus, the Air Force had planes and helicopters on standby for ferrying Marines to the ship and island. All the Air Force had to do was bring a bunch of them over to an airbase belonging to Thailand, and set up a plan to assault both Koh Tang(the island everyone thought the crew was on) and the Mayaguez itself.

The "plan" was put into motion. The Air Force search-and-rescue crews were told to ferry Marines to 1) the U.S.S. Holt, and 2) Koh Tang(island). The Holt, the closest ship in Squadron 17 that had a helo deck, would be used to attack the Mayaguez and recapture it. At the same time, the Air Force would ferry Marines to Koh Tang to pick up the Mayaguez crew. The Marines had been told that Koh Tang was a sparsely populated fishing village, and that maybe twenty or so "irregular militia" could be expected. No problem. A couple of platoons in santeens would take care of it.

But, let's look at Koh Tang for a moment.

It's approximately thirty miles off the coasts of both Cambodia and Viet Nam. From it, you can keep a pretty good eye on both coasts.

Cambodians and Vietnamese don't really like each other very much. As a result, they'd been fighting for control of that island. At this time, the Cambodians were in the driver's seat. They had possession and were planning on keeping it. That's why they had been fortifying it, and recently transferred a couple of hundred or so Khmer Rouge regulars to it. Heavily armed regulars.

Nobody in the White House knew this, or for that matter, even cared. Nobody at the Pentagon or the C.I.A. knew this either. Or, if they did, they didn't bother to pass this information along to the ground forces.

Enter one Joseph Hargrove, U.S.M.C., and his 2nd/9th buddies from Camp Schwab in Okinawa. They drew the ticket to provide field support to rescue the crew. In the middle of the night, they packed up their belongings and headed for the transports. A volunteer squad comprised of Marines from the Phillipines was assembled as well, to be ferried over to the Holt in preparation for an assault on the Mayaguez.

Off to U Tapao Royal Thai airbase, courtesy the Air Force. Phase One... completed.

The Marine ground commander, having no current intelligence on hand to plan an island assault, borrowed a spotter plane and, along with other officers armed with an instamatic camera, made a flyover of the island. What did they see? A lotta jungle -- and only a couple of rocky beaches big enough for landing helicoptors. A couple of machine guns on the island took potshots at them, too -- heavy machine guns.

Hey! Nobody'd mentioned heavy machine guns yet.

They huddled when they got back. What to do now? Should we tell all the men about this?

Didn't matter, really. They had to complete an island assault. Orders straight from the top. And the "top" didn't care how it was done.

The aircrews that were supposed to fly them in? They knew less than the assault teams. But it didn't have to be this way.

Why not?

Because, over the past two days of recons, the Air Force, Navy, and even one of the helicoptor rescue ships had been taking potshots from the island. There had been reports made, but they weren't forwarded to the assault planners. One report even mentioned tracer paths(those are the one that "burn" as they fly through the air, so the shooter can see where they're going) of arcs equaling that of a fifty-caliber machine gun.

And if you're not aware of this, guns of fifty-caliber or higher are LETHAL against hovering helicoptors. In other words, the helicoptors would be "sitting ducks" if they flew into unanswered heavy machine gun fire.

The officers didn't mention heavy machine guns to anyone. Why not? Mainly because most of the Marines were newly arrived at Camp Schwab, and had little or no combat experience. The thinking was that needless worrying about the prospect of resistance would not be a good morale booster.

So before dawn, on 15 May, 1975, the first wave of Marines were shuttled over in the Air Force helicopters("Jollys"). Because of the limited number of Jollies available for the operation, less than a third of the MINIMUM number of Marines needed for an assault would go on the first wave. Space on the choppers was precious; many of the officers elected to go in on the second wave(along with a mortar team) to make room for more grunts -- bodies that would be needed on the beach IMMEDIATELY to mount an effective assault.

Unfortunately, Marine bodies would not be in short supply before the morning was out.

Those couple of places on that island suitable for a chopper to put down? It was obvious to everyone on the op. And those not on the op as well, including...

... the Khmer Rouge defenders. That's why they'd spent so much time fortifying it recently.

The Air Force chopper pilots, being more search-and-rescue types now, were not expecting resistance. They flew right up to the landing zones. Nobody was entertaining the possibility of flying into a potentially hot LZ. They'd planned on walking up to the Rouge, saying, "turn over the crew", and going home. End of story.

Well, not exactly...

Every heard the saying starting with, "The best-laid plans..."?

After the first two CH-53 "Jolly Green Giant" choppers got blasted out of the sky by withering heavy machine gun, small arms fire, and a few rocket-propelled grenades(RPGs), the rest of the choppers quickly scattered, and dropped the Marines where they could. However, both LZs and most of the island was "hot".

In layman's terms, that means "a beehive of hot lead".

Marines still alive on the eastern beach were pinned down in deadly crossfires. Marines on the western beach weren't in much better shape, although they did manage to set up a perimeter and start digging in. But the Rouge positions were WELL-DEFENDED, and had an overview of both landing zones. The Marines on the island were in a world o'hurt.

As you might recall, the plan had been for Marines from both beachheads to meet up in the center, and then go greet the Mayaguez crew at a small clearing. It wasn't long before the poorly-planned assault REALLY went to crap. I believe a generous term to use here is "FUBAR"(for those of you who don't know what it means, go ask a vet). The troops were pinned down, their choppers had all been shot up(another one had already crashed on its way back to base). Reinforcements, because of the travel time to the island from the airbase, was at least two hours away. Those first few Marines that survived were now stuck there, and under heavy fire.

While all this was going on, the Marine volunteers from 1st/4th/Delta were staging on the Holt's aft helo deck. The Holt pulled alongside the Mayaguez, and these Marines did what the Marine Corps hadn't been called on to do in over a CENTURY -- an old-fashioned ship-to-ship boarding. After the Holt's Captain pulled alongside the Mayaguez(no simple feat for a single-screw ship in open water), Marines in full gear and gasmasks readied themselves along the rails. Then, teetering on the Holt's deckrails, they literally jumped over the thirty-foot deep chasm between the vessels and swarmed the Mayaguez.
Guess what?

Nobody home. The ship was empty.

The reason?

The Khmer Rouge, after doing a cursory search of a few containers, and thumbing their nose at everyone in the international community, had lost interest in the Mayaguez. There were maybe a couple left on board to watch the ship. But they bugged out before the Holt arrived next door.

So... where was the crew??

When the Marine assaults on the ship and the island started, the orders from "upstairs" included blowing any ship in the area ot of the water(to preclude the Rouge from reinforcing Koh Tang). The U.S.S. Wilson was just about to do that to a fishing trawler approaching the island -- it's deck was crowed with men. However, it was the Mayaguez crew, on their way back to their ship via a loaned-out fishing trawler, the Sinvari -- from another island! Somehow, the Rouge got the picture that "detaining" the crew any longer wasn't such a good idea after all, and turned them loose. When Miller and his crew were hauled aboard the Wilson that morning, he jovially offered to buy his rescuers "a beer". In the ensuing months, however, several of the Mayaguez crewmen sued the U.S. government for allowing them sail in such dangerous waters, and for being teargassed while in Rouge custody(when the Rouge were hauling toward the coast on small boats). Go figure...

So, the Marines were stuck on the WRONG island, and under blistering enemy fire. In the interum, EVERYBODY in the area had heard what was actually happening on the island. A Marine was floating in the lagoon under a life vest. He had an emergency radio and was "directing traffic". He told them what the situation had REALLY turned into.

The Air Force was feeling the squeeze now, too. Two choppers lost; a third crashed on its way back to base. Most of the others were now shot up. Crewchiefs, mechanics, everybody on base -- scraped together parts, made emergency repairs, and did what they could to get Marine reinforcements over to the island, to relieve the first wave. They concentrated on the western LZ. Fighter pilots finally started getting good information from the ground troops on enemy locations(like, anywhere except the beach?), and begin to lay in airstrikes. Survivors from the crashed choppers on the eastern LZ beachhead would have to wait.

On one of the reinforcing choppers, there was an M-60 team -- consisting of Hargrove, Hall, and Marshall. After arriving at the island, they were ordered out to the right flank of the western LZ. They were to stay there, and keep the Rouge from sneaking around from the south and putting the LZ in another crossfire.

In interviews years later, the Rouge island commander would state that gunteam's defensive fire as "stiff". He couldn't sneak his men by them. And they tried... all day.


(Private Danny Marshall, of Waverly, West Virginia -- M-60 team member)

Back in Washington, a quandary was developing. The Mayaguez crew no longer needed rescuing. So now, any attacks on Cambodia paint the United States into a role of "aggressor" in the situation. Ford didn't like that. Ford(fortunately) ignored Kissinger's suggestion that the rest of Cambodia be bombed into the next lifetime "as a lesson", and ordered an immediate pullout of the forces. A perfectly logical decision. Right?? Sure, if you're in Washington, D.C..

(PFC Gary Hall of Covington, Kentucky, M-60 team member)

But the White House didn't factor in one small detail... all those Marines still on that island.

The island was still chaos. All day long, Marines fought to keep their perimeter up, and consolidate their position, and call in airstrikes to keep their positions from being overrun. After all, they had no orders to do anything else. It was HOURS before they got the word that the operation was "over"(according to Ford, anyway). The local commandes now had a serious problem to deal with. How to get all the Marines back off that island.

There was only one logical way to do this. It was the same way they'd been taken there earlier. Via helicopter.

To make matters worse, it was getting late. The Marines were running out of water and ammo. Soon it would be dark. They would be stuck there all night, under the guns of the Khmer Rouge.

The options?? Leave them there all night, and hope to rescue the survivors in the morning. Or, fly in now with what was left of the choppers, and pull them off ASAP.

The decision was... get them off. Now!

Both Air Force and Navy fighter pilots flew "on the deck" missions over the island, bombing and strafing the jungle just beyond the beaches and the hunkered-down Marines. You can still see the 20mm holes in the trees along the beach. Air Force chopper aircrews, knowing what the "score" was on the island, still flew their Jollies in, one-by-one and under heavy fire, to pick up stranded Marines.

And now, it was nighttime. The chopper pilots couldn't see s#@t in the pitch black dark, so they turned on their landing lights to find the beach. For that, they were getting blasted even before they touched down. Twos and threes of Marines, guided by the lights, raced across the beach to them... and salvation.

But now, yet another problem was developing. Something the Marines planning the withdrawal had been aware of from the outset.

As more Marines left the island, that left less to defend the perimeter. The Rouge slowly... surely, started tightening the noose around the remaining Marines. Heads wrapped with red-and-white checkered bandanas were starting to pop up throughout the jungle -- only yards from the beachhead. Small-arms fire along the defensive perimeter got closer and more intense, especially when choppers came in to grab up more Marines.

Around eight o'clock that evening, the last helicopter took off from the beach. The few remaining Marines had literally been standing in the water and firing everything they had into the jungle. When asked if all the Marines were off the island, the remaining Captain could only respond with, "God, I hope so". Finally, the fourteen-hour battle of Koh Tang was over.

Or, was it ???

Maybe someone should've asked Hargrove, Hall, and Marshall. You see, they were still out on the perimeter with their M-60(for all the good it was doing them). And this is where the story starts getting a little strange.

The Marine Captain in charge of Hargrove's guncrew claimed to have ordered the gunteam back to the beach earlier.

Why?

Because they were out of ammo. But another Marine claims to have heard Hall shouting "more ammo" from the jungle that afternoon. They were still out on the perimeter.

The Captain in charge of gunteam. The one who ordered them back to the beach? He took off via an earlier chopper, and deferred command of the men to the Captain of another company.

And as the perimeter slowly collapsed that night, Hargrove, Hall, and Marshall were further and further away from their brothers-in-arms.

I suspect that very shortly, they were in occupied enemy territory -- the Rouge had gotten between them and the beachhead.

Rumor... someone on the last chopper saw Hargrove appear from the jungle down from the beachhead and wave his M-60 -- to try and attract attention. So someone would come back for them, too.

Factoid... later that night, serial numbers on all equipment were thoroughly checked to see if any of them corresponded to any of the equipment the gun team had checked out.

They didn't. Meaning... the gun crew was unaccounted for. MIA.

At about 1:30 a.m., an ensign on the U.S.S. Holt was heard, below decks and with tears in his eyes, saying, "We've got live souls still on that island".

Meanwhile, thirteen hours ahead and back in Washington, Ford & Company had broken out the champagne to celebrate the successful "rescue" of the Mayaguez and her crew. Photo ops were being lined up. Miller, the brave Mayaguez master, even had an opportunity to stop in Singapore. He purchased a toy ship's wheel to present to Ford. Everyone at the Pentagon was slapping each other's backs for a job well done.

However, the mood at the fleet was anything but jovial. First of all, it turned out that code books had been left in the downed choppers on the beach and in the lagoon. They contained all the frequencies and call signs we used in the region. And now, rumors were flying about three live Marines on the island.

A SEAL team had been flown in, landing on the Coral Sea, the carrier in the task force. There was a lot of talk about how to get those code books out of the choppers and back into safe hands.

Code books. But strangely enough(according to the SEAL team leader), nothing about three live Marines. And this was after the SEALs had been told by the Marines there were three MIAs.

Remember that other Marine Captain? The one who'd been left on the island to handle the final withdrawal? He and his Gunnery Sergeant were raising cain to the Naval commanders about the three missing Marines. In fact, the U.S.S. Holt had already reversed course, and was heading back to the island to mount a rescue operation.

The local Naval command had a choice to make. Go back and look for three MIAs, or leave the area as ordered. Tempers flared on the Coral Sea between the Marines and the Navy; the Marines arguing for going back while there was still time.

Back in Washington, and as far as Ford knew, we'd already left the region. He had members of Congress on his back now, irked that they'd been left out of the decision-making loop(because they couldn't take any credit for it). He had Thailand on his back, really irked that we'd used their country to launch an attack against their neighbor. And he had the American public and press getting on his back, because news of the near debacle had started leaking out. The White House and Pentagon reiterated -- the operation was OVER.

The Naval command decided, in the safty of their chairs, that the three Marines were surely dead. In any event, they couldn't possibly survive the night on an island full of hostiles. In this case, this is military bureaucracy-speak for, "They're not worth going back for".

So the operation was "over".

Memorial services were held. Pictures were taken(I understand that a toy ship's wheel now adorns a certain ex-President's library wall). Medals were issued. Marines and chopper pilots were left by themselves to deal with their losses and their own harrowing escapes from death.

Officially over.

Except for three United States Marines -- Joseph Hargrove, Gary Hall, and Danny Marshall.

You see, they were still back on that island. Remember? The one full of highly ticked-off Khmer Rouge? Yea, those guys...

I think everyone agrees that, by the time the last chopper left from the beachhead that night, the gun team had gotten cut off. And, being out on the perimeter, they'd never gotten word that the "last train" was about to leave.

That Captain that left early? He'd set up a signal(a whistle) to signal when it was time to bug out. But most of the Marines never heard it. The only reason more Marines weren't lost that night was because of individual effort(grunts yelling to other nearby grunts). They all "felt" it was about time to "get the heck outta there", and started passing the word.

And the Captain and Gunnery Sergeant left there to pull off this final withdrawal? They were already standing in the surf, holding on for stragglers. They didn't know there was a gunteam out on the perimeter because nobody had bothered to tell them.

Hargrove, Hall, and Marshall did not know it was the last chopper out... until it was too late.

Talk about a kick in the shorts...

All day, they'd stayed out there, trying to defend the flank. And in the end, they had been basically forgotten about.

They were on their own, thirty miles off the coast of Cambodia on an island full of enemy.

Screwed to the outhouse wall...

... nailed to the cross...

... up the creek without a paddle...

...abandoned by a country that had sent them to rescue fellow countrymen just a day before.

Made a helluva birthday present for Joseph, didn't it?

Joseph, Gary, and Danny now had to avoid an island full of highly ticked-off Rouge. Being boys from the rural south, they did a good job of it. For a while.

Problem is --

Koh Tang is a REAL small island.

Koh Tang has no fresh water.

Koh Tang has no food, other than what the enemy carries on their backs.

I want to point out that most of the following is speculation on my part, based on what I've read, heard from veterans, or come across on my own through Cambodian sources. Anyone in the "know"... feel free to correct me at any time.

I think Hall was the first to say, "We're screwed. Let's have it out." Based on what I have learned, he'd already been wounded in the leg. The next day, the three were being chased, and the wound was slowing them ALL down. Hall knew this. Hargrove and Marshall gave him the only M-16 they had, and continued to try to evade capture. Hall, being immobile, then got into a shootout with the pursuing Rouge. Came real close to taking out the Rouge island commander's buddy. But he DID slow the Rouge down long enough to allow Hargrove and Marshall to escape.

The Rouge finally surrounded and captured him.

At least it was over for Hall.

And that left Joseph and Danny.

Being boys from the WAY rural south(North Carolina and West Virginia), they knew how to survive off the land. And they did just that for a few days. Between their backgrounds and their Marine training, they managed to dodge the Rouge patrols and escape detection whilst they tried to figure out how to get off that friggin' island.

The cards were stacked against them. It was only a matter of time. Joseph had found religion recently, but I don't think even his beliefs were strong enough to help him walk across thirty miles of open ocean to the mainland with Danny on his back(Danny was a swimmer, but thirty miles???... come'on).

They did make it to the mainland, however.

Via the Khmer Rouge.

They were finally caught. They were hauled over to a seaport town on the coast of Cambodia and imprisoned briefly while their captors tried to figure out what to do with them.

Turns out they weren't of much value to the Khmer Rouge(like the other million-plus Cambodian citizens they murdered). They were probably interviewed by some not-so-jovial Rouge military, probably to see if the United States was planning another invasion or something. After a while, the Rouge figured they were just a couple of grunts whose lives their bosses placed no value on. Otherwise, why would they have left them behind?

The Rouge placed no value on Joseph's and Danny's lives, either. Hargrove's infectious smile would get them no farther.

You have to remember... he and Danny weren't facing "normal" people. They were facing Khmer Rouge animals... killers of women and children... babies... the educated, the intelligent... in other words, just about anybody with a brain, who wasn't a member of their clan. Joseph and Danny were from the wrong clans.

The Rouge dragged Joseph and Danny out and beat them to death. When they finished, they took Danny over to beach near a rocky cove, and tossed him into the water. They dragged Joseph over to a grassy area, and buried him in a shallow grave.

And so rested Joseph. For years.

(Probable resting spot of Joseph, outside of the coastal town in Cambodia, until the site was explored at great length by JTF/FA search teams.)

Photo courtesy of Larry Barnett


Meanwhile, back at home? Mrs. Hargrove, through the grapevine, was notified her son was missing. But little else came forth from the military. What happened? How did he die? Where were his remains? Where's Joseph??

The family started asking questions. After being stonewalled by the Marine Corps locally, one of Joseph's brothers went to Washington. He thought something was fishy, as did the rest of the clan. Why the lack of information from everyone in charge? He went up to make a fuss, and find out why.

What he was told? "Why aren't you at home, consoling your mother?"

The Hargrove's weren't in a position to take on the Pentagon. Neither were the Halls. Nor the Marshalls. It became the bone that was stuck in the craws of the Hargrove, Hall, and Marshall families... and every other family who lost sons/brothers that day. After a year lapsed, the military officially declared Joseph, Gary, and Danny KIA/BNR. All the statements and affidavits taken by the participants were classified and sealed up for decades.

Speaking of decades, that's how long Joseph's bones rested on Cambodian soil. But... Khmer Rouge come, Khmer Rouge go. When our buddy Pol Pot kicked the bucket, some of his Lieutenants realized that maybe it was time to reemerge from the dark ages. They started trying to "normalize" ties with other countries... in exchange for foreign aid. The United States was the first on the list. Remember the United States? Uncle (deep pockets)Sam? The Cambodians had the perfect attention-getter... MIAs. Remains of our fallen.

So off "we" went. "We", being the Joint Task Force/Full Accounting section, a group of dedicated interservice military men/women whose job it is to locate, exhume, and return the remains of missing American servicemen to their homeland. They made several trips to Cambodia to retrieve remains from the Koh Tang operation, in addition to other locations in the once-forbidden country.

They did find remains. Small bits of bone and teeth from the sand and surfline of Koh Tang. Hardly enough to identify at times. Regardless, they were all shipped back to the JTF/FA lab in Hawaii for DNA testing, in hopes of finding a match to a living relative.

(Probable resting spot of Danny, outside of that coastal town in Cambodia. The cove has yet to be dredged by JTF/FA search teams--requires special equipment.)

Photo courtesy of Larry Barnett


That's when more of this story starts coming to the surface.

During JTF/FA interviews, a couple of ex-Rouge made similar statements of "missing Marines", and their trip to the mainland via their Rouge hosts. They "knew somebody" who knew where two Americans were buried... on the mainland.

The JTF's response? "Yea, right."

But the JTF task force DOES have hard-working, dedicated individuals. And they don't consider American remains as just a bunch of "shards". They DID go look for and find the Cambodian who was supposed to know about Joseph. And the JTF task force DID go, and dig where he pointed to.

Lo and behold... bone fragments, inches from where the guy had told them to dig. Evidence of a burial site. While they were digging, the ex-Rouge told them the story of Joseph and Danny.

Imagine being a Marine General at the Pentagon who gets that email. Finding out about three live Marines getting left behind on the field of battle... to fend for themselves!!

Personally, I am at a crossroads on this.

On the one hand...

... we have the well-documented facts of the battle. We have three missing Marines, who MANY onboard the ships understood to be MIA. We have reports of someone seeing a flashlight, coming from the jungle that night, close to where Joseph and his buddies last reported from. We have a CBS News broadcast a few days later, reporting SOS signals coming from the island. Then, many years later, the eyewitness report of the three Marines. The location of a shallow grave on the Cambodian mainland. The finding of bone shards at those sites.

And, on the other hand...

We have a military version that has perpetuated since 1975 -- a position of silence. The stonewalling of the family of information on Joseph, Gary, and Danny. The "secret" classification of most, if not all, of the documents and statements on the operation(even now, a lot of the documents released under FOIA requests display a LOT of blackouts)

And finally, the Casualties Branch declaring all bone fragments found at the sites on the Cambodian mainland "animal" or "inconclusive".

Something I personally don't understand here. We can determine that a caveman's remains found close to Stonehenge in England belong to a certain person currently living in Britain, using existing DNA matching techniques. But we can't use that same DNA test to determine if 30-year-old bone fragments belong to a certain family living in the United States?

Or is it something else??

Are Joseph's remains already in a box at the Casualties Branch in Hawaii? Unidentified forever because, if those shards were identified, it would be an embarrassment to the Marine Corps? An admission that they did get left behind? Is that why Joseph's, Gary's, and Danny's mother, brothers, and sisters don't know where he is, even after a quarter century? Because it might make some "important" higher-up in Washington red-faced?

Stinks, doesn't it??

I personally think that if you've made a mistake, you own up to it, make amends to the offended party, and take steps to see that it doesn't happen again.

I'd like to see someone somewhere take charge of this situation. And, I'm hoping now that you've read this, you think someone should, too. Others certainly do at this point.

These "others"? How about some of the vets who made it off the island that day? In the latter part of 2000, four ex-Marines, at their own expense, made a trip back to Koh Tang. Why?

Because they'd lived with it for over a quarter-century. The rumor that they'd left their buddies behind that night. And it had eaten at their souls for a quarter-century. They went back... four representatives... of all the Marines and others who wanted to know the truth... to look for their buddies. Because the government hadn't been able to give them answers to the questions they'd been asking themselves for years.

(THOSE AIN'T TERMITE HOLES...)
When the four vets went back to Koh Tang in 2000, they discovered just how awesome the firepower to try to save their butts was. Shown is a palm tree full of holes -- caused by 20mm cannon fire from the jets which streaked in all day long. The tree was just yards away from the Marine defensive perimeter. As one vet put it, "The ground shook when the rounds hit, they were so close. But being that close is the only reason I'm alive today.")

Photo courtesy of Larry Barnett


They met with an ex-Rouge who was on the island that day. A tough nut... eighteen combat wounds, missing a limb. Vacant eyes, a long-lost soul, trying to carve a path of spiritual recovery. He also told them the story about the three Marines.

A partial payment to clear a cursed conscious?


**********

If you'd been waiting, what... how many nights??... for that husband, son, or brother to walk back through that doorway and say "hi", wouldn't you AT LEAST want to know why he wouldn't be?

If your answer's yes, you're not alone. You think like I do. And it's probably the reason you've read all this so far.

Do me a favor, will ya?

Drop a note to General Michael Hagee, Commandant of the Marine Corps. He's at Headquarters, Marine Corps at 2 Navy Annex, in Washington, D.C. 20380-1775. Ask him "Where's Joseph?" Tell him the story you just read about. See if you ever hear back from him.

Or give a call to Johnie Webb. He's the civilian contract employee at the military's Casualties Branch lab in Hawaii. Ask him how come all the bone fragments his field units have been led to are classified as "non-human" or "animal"? Ask him if it's a matter of money, technology, or time on how come those remains haven't been examined further.

Or, ex-President Gerald Ford, who wanted America to look good at least once in southeastern Asia, while scoring some points for the next year's elections. His office is at P. O. Box 927 in Rancho Mirage, CA 92236. Or, phone his secretary & leave a message for him @ (760)324-1763. Ask him, "Where's Joseph?"

Or, Donald H. Rumsfeld, Secretary of Defense, 1000 Defense Pentagon, Washington, D.C. 20301-1000. Hopefully, he'll put someone on it(but just pray that it's not the same guy handling the Speicher case).

Or, Gordon England, Secretary of the Navy, 1000 Navy Pentagon, Washington, D.C. 20350-1000. Ask him if this is any way to treat a mother who's donated two sons to the service.

Or how about the representatives from Joseph's, Gary's, and Danny's districts. They're at:

Ask them if they'd like a bumper sticker for their car... or limo... or golf cart... or Hum Vee.

But, at least ask them the question... "Where's Joseph??"

But mainly...

PLEASE... SOMEBODY TELL ME I'M ALL WET HERE, AND THAT IT DIDN'T REALLY HAPPEN THIS WAY!!!

Ya know what else... the Hargrove family had already donated one son to the war in Viet Nam prior to this operation. Joseph's older brother Lane stepped on a land mine in 1968. At least the military shipped Lane home for a proper burial.

Not so with Joseph. So... isn't it about time his Mother found out where her other son was?


Want your own bumper sticker? Or one to send to a friend? Or, someone else...? Email me.

And now... for the second-most important thing on this page. You need to email this page to everyone you know. Because without numbers, it's just swept under the rug again. Cut and paste this URL to your emails:

http://www.michaelshumidor.com/joseph.html

Thanks.


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Web page designed by H. M. Hargrove/copyright 1996/2002-all rights reserved.
For comments, or additional information, please contact:
Michael's Humidors
P.O.Box 10004
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email: Michael's Humidors.