A Vietnam Veteran Remembers

By Sherrie Norris

It’s been a long journey for Bernie Lee since, as the country’s youngest Marine in 1966, he was invited to the White House to “cut the cake with a big golden sword” in celebration of the Marine Corps’ birthday.

Bernie Lee, a Vietnam veteran, has finally won the war. Photo by Sherrie Norris

He joined the Marines the day after his 17th birthday, but only this year did his conflict finally end when he found peace at last, following years of fighting one battle after another.

Lee was born in a small Maine village, where his parents worked in the fishing industry. They later divorced; his mother taking his sister and baby brother, Lee choosing to live with his father.

He finished eighth grade, started high school, and made varsity football as a freshman.

“I began to develop a taste for alcohol and a dislike for school. For a couple of years, I only went to school to play ball,” he said.

As a freshman, he “really tied one on,” was dropped off the next morning on the school steps, waking as the police carried him down the hall, eventually leading him to juvenile court.

“Dad sweet talked the lady judge and I walked with just probation,” Lee said.

Completing probation at 16, Lee headed out with his buddies again, waking up in jail the very next morning. “Dad bailed me out and paid my court fine, but he just didn’t have control any more,”he said. “I wouldn’t go to school and was too lazy to hold down a job.”

About that time, his friends were being drafted “and sent to some place called Vietnam.”

His dad, a World War II veteran, was his hero, after all.

“I always wanted to experience military life, so when I turned 17 on Sunday, I enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps on Monday. Three weeks later I was at Parris Island, turning into a man, whether I wanted to or not,” Lee said.

He volunteered for parachute rigger school in Lakehurst ,N.J., and was promoted to PFC.

Initially too young to be sent to Vietnam, his first year in the Marines was spent at Cherry Point, N.C., where, he packed parachutes, ejection seats, aircraft chutes, survival kits “and any thing else concerning air crew safety and survival.”

While there, he was promoted twice, leaving as corporal. During that time, Lee remembers asking God “for some trivial stuff, but got no answer.”

“I didn’t think God cared, so I just gave up on him and went my miserable way, thinking I had it made. Little did I know what was ahead,” he said.

On one occasion, “after trying to drink the enlisted club dry,” Lee was involved in a serious automobile accident, involving “six hard core Marines carrying a stash of ‘liquid courage.’” The driver wasspeeding in his mother’s stolen car when they crashed, with the roof collapsing in over Lee’s head.

“Not a scratch,” he said, similar to other “close calls” he had earlier in life, involving an apartment fire as an infant, careening down a hillside in his daddy’s car as a small boy, etc.

After a year, Lee received his “West Pac” orders, “which meant I could be sent anywhere in the Western Pacific.”

It was first to Okinawa, arriving at Camp Hansen, where he was given orders to serve with the HMM-262 squadron. “I had never heard of a HMM. I thought it might be something nerdy like a maintenance outfit,” he said. “I didn’t want anything but Vietnam, but was sent to Fatima, Okinawa.”

HMM stood for Helicopter Marine Medium.

Lee sailed from Okinawa on a Navy ship en route to Vietnam, where his primary duties surrounded the safety and survival of pilots and crew members, maintaining pilots’ armored seats and the engine barrier filters that helped save the engines from dirt and debris.

When in flight, Lee was a door gunner, flying 380 missions during his tour and receiving numerous presidential awards and medals for “heroic achievement,” the first at age 18 during his second tour with his squadron in South Vietnam.

The citation in part reads, “Corporal Lee’s courage, superb professionalism and steadfast devotion to duty inspired all who observed him and were in keeping with the highest traditions of the Marine Corps and of the Unites Stated Naval Service.”

In a letter to his mother written on “8 Feb. ’68,” now yellowed with age, Lee informed his family that he had been interviewed and the tape would be sent to his hometown radio station. “You’ll be able to tell by my voice that I was nervous ... if you listen close, you should hear a boom and that will be the big guns firing outside. I’ve gotten used to those now and they don’t even bother me, ha, ha!”

He went on to describe the pride he felt in serving, “...proud to have the opportunity to be here... to be fighting for what is right, to be keeping my loved ones free to enjoy life. And believe me, Mom, I am proud to be an American who can truthfully say I love my home, my God and my country. And furthermore, if the opportunity ever comes up, I will have no fear to die for something I treasure so dearly.”

Throwing a party for an orphanage in Quang Tri City, showing compassion for children with no family, touched his heart and still makes him cry, one of just a few fond memories.

How does he feel about the Vietnamese today?

“Somewhat mixed, but for the most part, I feel guilty about what our government made us do to their country and families. The poor peasant farmers wanted to raise their crops and families in peace, but were displaced and their homes burnt and families scattered by both sides of the conflict,” Lee said.

He adds, “Not all of them were innocent, though. A lot would kill you in a second if they got the chance. I guess all wars s with a crowbar, but not on us.”

Through the years, however, Patricia admitted his way of life wedged them farther apart. “I left him in September 1999 and came to the mountains, where my daughter was already living. Bernie and I remained friends through it all, but his drinking took its toll,” she said.

After Patricia relocated, she began to attend Mount Vernon Baptist Church in Boone and, while dealing with her own struggles, kept Bernie on the prayer list.

“He would get so drunk at night and call me, tell me he was ready to give up and was going to blow his brains out,” she said.

In 2004, Lee asked Patricia to join him on an annual Biker’s Rally in Washington, D.C. “She went with me on Veterans Day to visit ‘the wall,’ and then we went to the Outback for dinner. As I finished my second beer, I told her, ‘That’s enough. I can’t take it anymore,’ and agreed to seek professional help,” he said.

Lee was committed to the Veteran’s Administration in Salisbury, where he underwent intensive treatment for alcoholism, hepatitis and post traumatic syndrome disorder (PTSD). “I had never heard of it before, but they said that I had all the symptoms - anger, constant nightmares, panic attacks, war-related flashbacks, etc.,” he said.

Two years ago, Lee was classified as permanently disabled due to PTSD, diabetes and related neuropathy and was deemed “unemployable,” though he had always worked.

“When he was discharged from the VA, I could not let him go back to that old house he was living in,” Patricia said, so she brought him to her mobile home in Boone, with the agreement that he would give up the booze and attend church with her.

By that time, she had become a Christian and was involved in a ministry at Bradford Park, where she lived.

“Bernie began helping me with some of the special projects and would attend church with me, but usually zoned out during services. He knew that something was missing - he had always been intelligent and was always searching, looking at various theories, etc. There was such a veil of darkness in his life, it was hard for him to see past it,” she said.

In the meantime, however, people continued to pray for Bernie, Patricia said, saying that Bob Ellison, Van Norris and Bob Lee were among the fellow church members who took a special interest in Bernie.

“There was a former gangster, Tom Papania, scheduled to speak at Hebron Colony one night, an event that Bernie attended with these men and others from church,” she said.

After hearing the man’s story, something started happening, Bernie said. “At the end, he told everybody to stand up and if we were 100 percent positive if we died tonight, we’d go to heaven, to sit down. I started to sit down, and it was like someone grabbed me and pulled me back up. I knew what I had to do - and after I did, it was like a big piano was finally lifted off my back,” he said.

Lee was baptized on April 29, 2007 at Mount Vernon and has never looked back.

“My hepatitis was cured in four weeks - the doctors said it was unheard of. But that’s just one of many wonderful things that has happened to me since that day. It’s like a light finally penetrated the darkness. Surrender is a big word for a Marine, but it was the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he said.

“God had plans for me since I was a little boy, but it took going through a lot for me to realize it. He saved from a lot of things, but this time, he’s saved me for good. I’m a completely different person than I’ve ever been before.”

Patricia, the couple’s three children and five grandchildren are extremely proud of Lee, and agree that he’s a changed man, for sure.

“His countenance is different, he’s so gentle; everything in him is a picture of God’s love,” Patricia said.

He hasn’t looked back one single time, and says he’s finally won the war.

Bernie Lee has begun to document his memories and hopes to see his entire story in print, maybe even on the big screen someday.