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Donald Stephen Mihordin

Donald Stephen Mihordin

Greenville, PA
U.S. Army – Vietnam

Donald Stephen Mihordin must have been an optimist. He married Carol Ann Kilgore on September 9, 1967, about a month after he had entered the Army. He had to have known that he would be going to Vietnam.

That happened on March 25, 1968, when he was assigned to the 25th Infantry Division’s Company D, 4th Battalion, 9th Infantry on March 25, 1968. The Division was headquartered in Cu Chi, just northwest of Saigon. And that guaranteed that he would be involved in some serious combat.

The 25th Division had operational responsibility for Tay Ninh Province, just north of a portion of Cambodia that protrudes into Vietnam. That area of Cambodia provided a sanctuary in which Viet Cong and North Vietnamese Army units could gather supplies and troops to stage attacks into South Vietnam. Until late in the war, they could be certain that the American and South Vietnamese forces would not attack across the border into Cambodia.

Tay Ninh Province was intensely disputed throughout the war, especially after the NVA increased its use as an infiltration route during 1968. The fighting was unrelenting; making any break from it welcome, indeed. In the summer of 1968, Donald was able to go on R&R to Hawaii to visit his wife, Carol Ann.

Shortly after she returned home, she learned that Donald had been killed in action.

On November 26, 1968, Donald’s unit was engaged in a bitter fight about 3 kilometers southeast of Tay Ninh City. Before the day was out, 26 Americans were dead, including eighteen from the 4th Battalion, 9th Infantry. One of those was Sp4 Mihordin from Sharon, mortally wounded in the neck when he triggered a land mine.

Donald never got to see his five-week-old son, Donald.

Donald had been born in Greenville to Mr. & Mrs. Stephen Mihordin. After graduating from Hickory High School in 1965, he attended Youngstown State University until he entered the Army.

He was survived by his parents, his wife Carol Ann, son Donald, sister Charlene, and brother Richard. He was preceded in death by another brother, Jack Mihordin.

Sp4 Mihordin was posthumously awarded the Bronze Star, Purple Heart, and Good Conduct Medal.

He was the 19th Mercer County serviceman killed in Vietnam. He is buried in Hillcrest Memorial Park, which is now America’s Cemetery (SM).

On the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Panel W38 line 77

Douglas Kennedy Dayton

Dayton, Douglas

Dayton, Douglas

Doug Dayton

Sharon, PA
U.S. Army. Vietnam

Fr. Douglas Dayton served in the Episcopal Ministry for 20 years – three years as Assistant Rector at St. John’s Episcopal Church in Sharon, and seventeen as Rector. That’s quite a career, especially considering the fact that he didn’t start studying for the priesthood until he was 43 years old, after completing a twenty-year career in the United States Air Force.

“People who know how much I love the ministry would say to me, ‘I bet you wish that you had gone into the seminary right out of college,” Fr. Dayton says. “But I tell them that those 20 years in the military, particularly my tour in Vietnam, helped me to be a much better priest and pastor.”

After graduating from high school in 1960, he studied at Buffalo State Teachers College, then went on to get a Master of Science in Secondary Education from Fredonia State Teachers College.

That career path took a little twist because of the Vietnam War.

“I got on board with the Air Force’s Officer Training Program,” he said. “I became a 90-Day-Wonder at Lackland Air Force Base in Texas.”

His Air Force Specialty was, appropriately, Education and Training. After assignments at Lackland and Hamilton Air Force Bases, he was sent to Nha Trang Airbase in Vietnam as education and training adviser to the Vietnamese Air Force’s 2nd Air Division.

“When I got there, the U.S. 7th Air Force personnel were running the airbase. Our job was to train the Vietnamese to be able to run the airbase by themselves. I was involved in a variety of training programs.”

U.S. advisers worked one-on-one with a Vietnamese counterpart. To be successful, the two had to develop a trusting, friendly relationship.

“My counterpart invited me to his home for dinner once,” Fr. Dayton said. “I tried to eat what I thought I could handle, but he made sure they served some that I could.”

After returning from Vietnam, Major Dayton taught four years at the United States Air Force Academy in Colorado, then served at Wright-Patterson AFB, Ohio. Before retiring as a Colonel, he served as Professor of Aerospace Studies for the Air Force ROTC Detachment at Grove City College.

And that left him ready for his career as a pastor and priest.

Fr. Dayton and his wife Kathleen have two adult children, Rachael and Aaron, and four grandchildren: Darius, Lucia, Parker, and Zoe.

Video interview of Major Dayton

 

Eric Knauf

Eric's graduation picture

Eric’s graduation picture

Greenville
U.S. Army – Vietnam

In 1969, a year after graduating from Greenville High School, Eric Knauf enlisted in the army “because it was the right thing to do.” During his initial testing, he qualified for helicopter flight school.

“They told me the washout rate was very high,” he said, “and then a very high death rate if you didn’t wash out. I said that’s okay.”

After training, Warrant Officer Knauf was assigned to an air cav unit in the Mekong Delta. At Christmas time, the unit moved us up to Quang Tri Province, by the DMZ.”

There they participated in Operation Lam Son 719, a major invasion of Laos by the South Vietnamese Army, with aerial support from the U. S. Army.

Knauf, Eric

Knauf, Eric

“All we did all day, every day was go out and get into a fight,” he said.

A helicopter would fly into known enemy territory to draw fire. Other gunships would follow them in and attack the positions from which the enemy was firing.

“Our mission was to go find them and shoot as many as we could and come home at the end of the day.”

But as he had been warned, the casualty rate for helicopter pilots and crew was high indeed. Some days not everyone came home. On February 27, 1971, that included Eric Knauf.

“We were trying to get two pilots out of Laos,” he said. “The first rescue mission got shot down. We went in right behind them and got shot down, too. Another mission was able to get us out. The first two pilots are still listed as missing in action.”

Air assault team

Air assault team

Besides offensive missions, they also had to defend their base at Khe Sanh.

“They would fire mortars on us every night. We mounted C-130 landing lights and a minigun on a helicopter. When we saw the mortar flash, we would light up the whole area and hit the minigun. Their position disappeared, trees and all.”

Eric was one of the fortunate ones. He survived an astounding 1318 flight hours, including 1081 in combat. From that he accumulated what he calls a bunch of junk in this basement that includes three Distinguished Flying Crosses, a pile of Bronze Stars and Air Medals (31 of the former, 36 of the latter, including three for valor), and a Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry.

Eric served four more years in the National Guard flying Cobras with an air cav unit in Washington, PA.

George “Jig” Warren

Sharon, PA
U.S. Navy – Vietnam

LST technically stands for Landing Ship Tank, although some of its crewmen referred to them as “large slow targets.” They were some of the most remarkable pieces of equipment in Vietnam, if for no other reason than their endurance. More than 90 LSTs performed vital roles there; all but about ten of them had been built during World War II.

The large, flat-bottomed vessels were designed for hitting the beaches during the invasions in Europe and the Pacific to drop off tanks and other heavy equipment. But because of their load capacity, they were ideal for hauling large shipments of supplies and equipment, as well as armament. That made it functional for two roles: resupplying military units all up and down the whole length of South Vietnam, and patrolling the waterways and coastline of the Mekong Delta, intercepting suspicious vessels.

Jigs Warren arrived in Vietnam to serve on LST 819, Hampshire County, in February, 1967. He had graduated from Officer Candidate School in Newport, Rhode Island, and attended amphibious school in San Diego before going to Vietnam.

“We moved a lot of food supplies, ammunition, building supplies.” he said, “We also, on occasion, would support river patrol boats with fuel and ammunition.”

It was grueling and dangerous work.

“I really looked at it as a job. I was never and have never been busier in my life,” he said. “We usually worked 20 to 22 hours a day and slept for three or four hours. In 18 months on board ship, I never slept for more than four hours straight.”

His 18-month tour kept him in Vietnam through the Tet offensive in early 1968.

“We had just dropped off some supplies in Hue to build an enlisted club,” he said. “We were out of there by the time the attack happened.”

Jigs said that the Hampshire County was fired upon every single day. At night in Da Nang, the sky sparkled every night with tracers, the illuminated rounds fired by automatic weapons.

“It was nothing but a curtain of tracer bullets around the entire city, every night, every night for a year ,.. that’s all you saw, the entire city engulfed in tracer bullets.”

Jigs felt compassion for the people who suffered most from the war.

“I guess the thing I remember most is the people in Vietnam who were practically overrun by military efforts all the time.”

Jack Wallace

Sharon, PA
U.S. Marine Corps – Vietnam

Trying to discover the facts about what went on in Vietnam is very tricky. Strange ideas seem to spring up out of nowhere.

For example, there is a persistent belief that Jack Wallace was a “tunnel rat” in Vietnam – one of these crazy people who would crawl into VC tunnels with a flashlight and a .45 pistol to root out the enemy. Jack himself certainly wasn’t the one who came up with that idea.

“I have no idea where that came from,” he said. “I was an electronics repairman in Chu Lai.”

Jack had enlisted in the Marine Corps in 1966. He volunteered for Vietnam several times before they finally sent him. He arrived there shortly after the 1967 Tet offensive.

What he found was a strange kind of war.

“The people who worked in our bases were from the villages around us,” he said. “Our people told you to watch them when they were walking things off. We got hit by a lot of rockets and you had to wonder how they knew where to fire them.”

Even within the U.S. military there seemed to be an element of distrust, or at least a lack of respect. Jack was stationed in Chu Lai, about 350 miles to the northeast of Saigon, as the crow flies. He got a four-day pass to visit his uncle in Saigon, but he had to figure out for himself how to get there. He caught rides on a plane, a helicopter, and a convoy. But the strangest part occurred when he got to Saigon.

“I tried to find a place to bunk on Tan Son Nhut Airbase, but they wouldn’t let me stay there because I wasn’t Air Force. The Army wouldn’t put me up, either. Finally the Navy put me up because I was a Marine, but they locked up all my weapons. I think I was the only person walking around Saigon without a weapon.”

Jack admired the people of Vietnam.

“The thing that amazed me was in some of the villages they didn’t have anything. They had years of war, but they were able to shrug it all off and raise families and be happy.”

What Jack got out of his Vietnam experience was an attitude toward life. “You have the ability to do anything you want if you try hard enough. Never give up. Don’t dwell on the past. Think of the future and press on.”

Jesse James Coon

Coon, JesseJesse James Coon

Hickory Township, PA
U.S. Army, Vietnam

Sp4 Jesse James Coon had a rare assignment in Vietnam. He was assigned to the 9th Infantry Division Headquarters and Headquarters Company – to play in the division’s band. The 9th Division had a long tradition of bands in combat zone. They had one all the way back in World War II.

One might think that it would be a cushy assignment, away from the dangers that the 9th Division soldiers faced every day as part of the Riverine Force in the Mekong Delta. But the Headquarters and Headquarters Company and Band received a Meritorious Unit Citation, not for playing good music, but for support of combat operations.

During one of these operations, on April 23, 1968, Sp4 Coon was riding in a military vehicle in the Mekong Delta. An enemy hand grenade thrown into the vehicle rolled under the driver’s seat. Sp4 Coon could have rolled out of the vehicle and saved himself. Instead, he grabbed the grenade and tried to throw it out of the vehicle. It exploded before he could do that. Sp4 Coon was killed, but the driver survived.

He was posthumously promoted to Sgt. E-5 and awarded the Bronze Star with “V” device for valor.

Jesse was born in Sharon on August 30, 1947, to Billy Coon Jr. and Mrs. Anna Roman Coon. He attended Farrell High School, but graduated from Hickory High School in 1966. He worked for Sharon General Hospital, Cohen’s Store, and the General American Transportation Corp. before entering the service in October, 1966. His tour in Vietnam started on February 5, 1968.

Jesse left behind his father and stepmother, Julia H. Yourchisin Coon; three brothers, William, John and Richard; one sister, Mary Irene; and grandparents, Mrs. Marie Roman, New Wilmington, and Mr. and Mrs. Nick Yourchisin, Hickory Township.

A message posted on the Internet expressed the feelings of many who came back from Vietnam: “I remember Jesse in basic training. He was always making the rest of us laugh. I am very sorry he died so young. I served in Viet Nam too, and sometimes I feel guilty that I came home and so many didn’t.”

 

On the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Panel 51E Line 37

Jim Cardamon

Cardamon, Jim

Jim Cardamon

Hermitage, PA
Honor Guard, Tomb of the Unknown Soldier
U.S. Army, late 1950s

In the army, even if you don’t know where you’re going, you might end up exactly where you were meant to be – provided you have a broom, a passion for doing things perfectly, and a loving grandmother.

At least that’s how it worked for one draftee. When Jim Cardamon received his draft notice in 1956, a friend who attended the Citadel taught him close order drill using a broom for a rifle. With this advantage, he was selected as squad leader during infantry Basic and Advanced Individual Training.

At the end of AIT, Jim had no idea where he would be assigned. It turned out to be the “spit and polish” brigade at Fort Myer, Virginia. He was awestruck when he learned that it was the unit that provided ceremonial support for Arlington National Cemetery.

After two weeks of training, he was selected to join one of the honor guard company’s three platoons: honor guard drill team, casket bearers, or firing party. He chose the drill team.

One day he saw a soldier in dress blues going to the head of the chow line.

“I didn’t even know the army had dress blues,” he said.

He learned that the soldier was a guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. He immediately decided that he had to go for that.

After practicing constantly with some of his friends who were tomb guards, he was given the opportunity. While some of those selected never made it to the tomb, Jim made it after just a couple weeks. Guards were usually first put out early or late in the day when there were few spectators at the tomb. Jim’s first call came for the noon changing of the guard, before the biggest crowd of the day.

“I got through the first change okay. But when I was standing at the end doing the 21 second count, I heard a noise. My hand was trembling so much that the bayonet was rattling.”

He managed to get through it all without screwing up.

“From that point on, I had the best duty the United States Army had to offer.”

People often ask Jim how he got to be a tomb guard. He explains that the army selects soldiers who fit a defined profile – certain height, military bearing, attitude, and such. Of course only a tiny fraction of those who fit it are selected.

“But I had another advantage,” he says. “My grandmother prayed me into it.”

That gave him not only great military duty, but also membership in a very exclusive organization: The Society of the Honor Guard – Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Jim was instrumental in forming The Society, and has served as its president.

Video interview of Jim Cardamon

John H. Lopochonsky, Jr.

LopochonskyGreenville, PA
U.S. Army – Vietnam

Nine months after graduating from Greenville High School in 1969, John Lopochonsky was drafted into the army. After training to be a helicopter door gunner, he headed to Vietnam in October, 1970 to serve with A Troop, 7th Squadron, 1st Cavalry.
He was assigned as a gunner on an OH-6A “Cayuse” helicopter. That put awesome power at his fingertips, probably 7.62 mm six-barrel minigun, a Gatling-type weapon that could fire at the rate of more than 2000 rounds per minute.

But to use that power, a gunner had to be both crazy and courageous. When teamed on a combat mission with a Cobra gunship, the Cayuse’s mission was to fly in low over suspected enemy positions to draw out their fire so the crew could mark their positions. Then the Cobra would come in with greater firepower and destroy them.

In other words, the Cayuse helicopters were sometimes used like moving ducks in a carnival shooting gallery. But unlike those ducks which flop over when hit with a b-b, the Cayuse could take a lot of serious hits and still take its crew home safely. One of them accumulated 1,340 combat hours, was shot down four times, and had two non-combat accidents. It was repaired every time, and in the end returned to the United States where it performed well for the New York National Guard.

Sgt. Lopochonsky wasn’t so fortunate. During his last mission, the Cayuse he was in crashed after taking too many hits. Before it crashed, however, Sgt. Lopochonsky proved that his core characteristic was ultimate courage. His Bronze Star citation, awarded posthumously, states that “he distinguished himself by exceptionally valorous actions, Volunteering for recon after the scout team came under intensive fire. . . . On a run over a heavily fortified enemy bunker, Lopochonsky completely exposed himself to enemy fire as he destroyed 5 buildings, one bunker, and four sampans.”

Sgt. Lopochonsky was survived by his brother James, and his grandmother, Mildred Artman.

He was the 37th Mercer County serviceman to die in the Vietnam War.

 

ON THE WALL Panel 03W Line 109

Joseph J. Zentis

Hermitage, PA
U.S. Army – Vietnam

There’s a military maxim: “Never volunteer for anything.” Joe Zentis volunteered many times, virtually always with fortunate results.

A Distinguished Military Graduate in ROTC at Gannon College, Zentis was commissioned as a regular army officer in 1963. His volunteering for the infantry got him assigned to the 2nd Battalion 21st Infantry, 24th Infantry Division, at Warner Kaserne in Munich, Germany. Warner Kaserne is a former SS headquarters rich in both German and American military history. He served in an excellent unit, developed great friendships, and got to travel throughout Europe. One of his favorite trips resulted from his volunteering to lead a platoon on a four-day 100-mile road march in Nijmegen, Holland.

Troops in Europe could not request assignment to Vietnam until late 1965. As soon as he could, Zentis volunteered. In November, he received preliminary orders to depart for Vietnam in January.

A glitch in his orders kept him in Germany until May. During that interim, he met and married a lovely Australian lady, Edi Terfy. They recently celebrated their 47th anniversary.

Before Zentis left Germany, some of his friends who had not volunteered were assigned to combat roles with newly-deployed U.S. military units. Because he volunteered early, Zentis was assigned to a relatively safe Military Assistance Command provincial advisory team, which he found far too boring. He volunteered again for reassignment to any unit in Vietnam where he could serve a useful purpose. That got him transferred to the 23rd Vietnamese Infantry Training Center in the Ban Me Thuot, in the central highlands. The MACV compound there surrounded the former emperor Bao Dai’s spectacular “Grand Bungalow.”

The training center allowed Zentis to exercise leadership and creativity. He invented a unique pop-up target range that earned him a Bronze Star for Meritorious Service.

He describes his time there as stressful rather than horrible.

“ I didn’t have to kill anyone, and I never saw anyone killed or wounded. But every day I rode five miles between the MACV compound and the training center with my little M-1 carbine on my lap. We never knew who or what was in the trees beside the road. But we were fully aware that the area was ‘pacified’ only because the Vietcong had other priorities.”

That was proven seven months after Zentis left Vietnam, when the Vietcong easily swept through the area during the infamous famous Tet offensive. The advisors who left the compound that day were killed on their way to their units.

Because of his willingness to volunteer, Zentis suffered no ill effects from his year in Vietnam other than a weight loss from 165 to 138 pounds.

Today, 50 pounds heavier, he says, “That problem was far too easily corrected.”

Joseph W. Baker

Baker, Richard

Baker, Richard

Joseph W. Baker

West Middlesex, PA
U.S. Navy Corpsman, Vietnam

For Marines in Vietnam, as in most war zones, “Doc” was a Navy medical corpsman, because the Marine Corps had no medics of its own. “Doc” accompanied the Marines into the teeth of the battle, because when a Marine went down, “Doc” had to be right there to help him. With his focus on attending to others rather than on defending himself, the medical corpsman was particularly vulnerable.

Hospitalman Joseph A. Baker was serving with 2nd Battalion, 4th Marines, 3rd Marine Division in the province of Quang Tri, just south of the border between North and South Vietnam. His letters home contain vivid pictures of both the courage, vulnerability, and dedication of the Navy corpsmen. “”My platoon saw action today. I wasn’t with them but I had to help with casualties back here at camp. We had two dead and about twelve wounded. I’m not worried anymore about if I will know what to do. When they started bringing them in I just went to work without even thinking.”

Of course, he did often accompany his unit into the field: “We were hit on patrol yesterday and we lost one man and had two other wounded in action.”

Joe had his own close calls: “A corpsman from the 1st platoon was hit and I had to go to his wounded. He had three of them about 75 meters across an open rice paddy and I had to go get them. Our sentry opened up to give me cover and I started across running low. Then I began hearing rounds go over my head and saw them kicking up sand at me feet. I put it in high gear and really began moving. I had to check myself when I got there to make sure I wasn’t hit. A grenade launcher came over after me, then I got scared seeing what I had crossed through.”

In the gallows humor of combat soldiers, such escapes did not go unnoticed: “Most of the corpsmen out here have Purple Hearts already and they are kidding me because I don’t. They can’t understand it.I’ve been in more fire fights and sat through more mortar attacks than they have.”

Unfortunately, Joe’s good fortune ended on March 7, 1968, when he was killed by small arms fire.

Joseph was the fifteenth serviceman from Mercer County, PA, killed in action in Vietnam.