Collection of 6 Vietnamese
Christmas cards purchased in 1970 by Sgt
Wayne Dobos NCOIC of
"THE RED BARON"
gun truck, 444th Trans
Company, 27th Trans Battalion, 8th Trans
Christmas card send by Tan
Duong, a student at the Political Warfare
College, Dalat, Viet Nam 1973
If you were in Vietnam
at one of the A- camps and remember a story
about one of your Christmas or the New Year
please tell us about it!
These apply to
members off "C" team, Mike Force, SOG and
also our friends from Force Recon and MAT teams hosted
on our website.
Please contact me
so that I can upload your story:
Courtesy of Dean Byrne A-503/B55, Christmas 1969
1970,MAT I-27, Quang Ngai,the picture was taken
sometime in the latter part of Nov 1970 just after the
second of two large typhoons struck the Quang Ngai
City / Chu Lai (Americal Div base camp) areas of Quang
Ngai and Quang Tin Provinces.
Our team house was flooded in conjunction with
the second typhoon. We awoke to water just an inch or
two below our cots. Our team house sat on a berm
roughly 8-10 sandbags above ground level. By noon the
water had receded out of our team house, but it was
still waist deep in the streets of the city. We had
just returned from a mission the night before the
storm struck. We spent the rest of Nov flying in CH
47s aiding in the delivery of emergency rations to
stranded hamlets on the edge of the high western
mountains. We sent this picture off to someplace and
had it made into a Christmas card with "Greetings
from our home to yours..."
Kneeling in front, SGT Dep,
Standing left to right, SFC Richard Edgar, SFC
James Hollis, SSG Cuu, CPT Robert Hensler, SGT
Thanks to Cpt R Hensler
Shortly after Sp 5
Paul Nay joined the team at Gia Vuc, in November
1967, he mentioned that his fiancée, Nikki, was a
member of a sorority at the University of Indiana.
Paul, several team members and I thought it would be
a good idea to ask, Nikki, if she and her sorority
sisters would be interested in helping us gather
clothing and hygiene supplies, ie: soaps,
toothbrushes and other items.
We sent along several pictures of the locals
Several weeks later,
around Christmas, we received a couple of large
boxes sent by Nikki and her friends. The boxes
contained clothing of various sizes, bar and
granular soaps, brushes of various types and combs.
The sorority sisters sent a nice letter and card
which may have been a Christmas card, I'm not sure.
receiving the supplies we started giving them away
to the locals. Interpreters gave those who received
the goods instructions, to include demonstrations,
on how to use what was given to them.
It wasn't long before
we saw villagers wearing the American style garb.
The most conspicuous difference from the traditional
clothing the Rhes wore were the colors as opposed to
the basic faded black and earth tones. I got the
impression that the tooth and stiff bristle brushes
were being put to good use. The consensus of the
team was that the project was working and that we
might make another request. Based on the apparent
enthusiasm on the part of the sorority members we
felt that they would be willing to renew their
efforts and help again.
Within a couple of
days of our initial good evaluation of the benefits
of what had been accomplished one of the
interpreters came to me and said "bac si bad
problem in Ap B, people getting sick stomachs".
Dau bung (phonetic spelling of Rhe term for stomach
pain). When we reached Ap B we saw a number of
people obviously in distress. After talking to
several of them and learning that they thought the
well water was bad we walked over to the well. There
was a woman washing clothes in a tin pail next to
the well. We were almost at the well when she dumped
the water from the pail into the well. We could see
that the water was dirty.
Upon reaching the
well we looked down at the water. It was brackish
grey with some foam. Despite being told by the SF
personnel, over the years, not to deposed of used
water by dumping back into the well many villagers
remained ignorant or disregarded the advice.
Obviously the soapy water exacerbated the already
compromised quality of the water. I think that many
of the villagers were able to consume the well water
with few health consequences until the soap scum was
added. I should mention that much of the clothes
washing took place in the nearby Song Re, perhaps
500 to 600 meters from Ap B.
As a result of what I
saw a bucket brigade was formed and water was drawn
from the well until it was clear. As much of the
soap was collected from the villagers as we could
find. Once again the villagers were warned about
dumping used water back into the well. I'm sure that
warning fell on deaf ears. Historically there were
times when the village wells almost ran dry and the
villagers felt that water should not be wasted.
One last thing. Going
about collecting soap and passing out warnings we
encountered a frantic woman. She pled with the
interpreter to have me go check her husband whom she
was convinced was dying. When we entered the hooch
she took us to we saw and heard one of our CIDG
moaning and thrashing about on a bed platform. We
could smell insects repellent and saw several empty
plastic bottles. The guy had been drinking the
repellent. He hadn't vomited and I told the
interpreter to tell him to gag himself to see if
that would help. Within seconds of sticking a finger
down his throat he let go. There wasn't much in his
stomach other than repellent. It was apparent that
that hooch wasn't going to be visited by insects for
a while. Being that the repellent was oil based most
of what he had swallowed came up.
I sent the interpreter back to the guys hooch with a
charcoal based mixture that would help lessen the
effects of the residue.
Sgt Rob MacPhee,
A-103 Medic Nov 67/May 68
Here's a story from MAT IV-32 on
the Plain of Reeds, 1969. Christmas eve had
A truce had been declared, so we were to have no
operations out that night or the next day and
Not trusting the enemy, we were determined to make
sure the guard posts and security patrols around the
were fully manned; so SSG Lagasca, my heavy weapons
guy, and I armed up around dark-thirty and left our
fort to go on a security check around the
By the time we finished the check it was dark and
Lagasca and I started walking back toward the fort
from the other side of the village. We were walking
down the village street, most people smiling and
nodding as we passed.
Some kids, as usual, followed smiling and
chattering. When we came to the hooch of a family I
knew better than most, Lagasca and I stopped to wish
them a Merry Christmas since I knew they were
We were standing there talking in the light of their
little fuel oil lamp when I heard singing in
Vietnamese. I looked up the street from where the
sound was coming and in the darkness (there was no
electricity in the village) I saw first one light
pop up then another behind it then another and
another. I quickly realized the lights were all I
see of children coming out the entrance of the
church yard of the Catholic church. They were making
a candle-light procession down the village street
toward us and they were singing "O Come, All ye
Faithful" in Vietnamese. They were a long way
away, and they had gotten to another song by the
time they neared us. Then I could see
they all had on white capes made of cotton sheeting.
Each one in the long row held a candle except for
some of the boys who were carrying a creche made of
chicken wire stuffed with colored paper. I began to
feel out of place because here the children were
doing a simple celebration of Christmas while
Lagasca and I were standing there armed to the
teeth. I was there to make war. Guilty as charged.
My unease increased when, seeing us, the priest
accompanying the children had them stop the creche
in front of us. Smiling, I knew he felt he was doing
us a courtesy, and he had all the kids gather in a
semicircle around us and the creche and sing
"Silent Night." I stood there in the
yellow light of all those flickering candles dressed
faded jungle fatigues, wearing my blue beret, and
with my M16 supported across the top of my ammo
pouches. I was ready for war in the midst of
children celebrating the Prince of Peace. Friends,
that just ain't right. It was many years later
before I could hear or try to sing "Silent
Night" at Christmas without weeping and without
that string of lights in the darkness coming toward
me singing in Vietnamese, "Joy to the
Even telling you now, there are tears in my eyes.
I said we didn't trust the enemy, and for good
reason. Later that night, we got a air recon call
saying there was a huge movement of sampans coming
across the border and headed toward us. We were
lucky to be able to divert an Arc-Lite mission and I
got the opportunity to call in some B-52s on their
heads. The Arc-Lite, I supposed had been
headed to areas where the truce did not apply. In
any case, it made an impressive light-and-sound
show, I can tell you that! My district chief
immediately became concerned that the bombs might
have missed their target and he wanted to take some
troops out to the impact area right then to do a
recon and make sure whatever was out there had been
broken up. I couldn't dissuade him, so I got SFC
Tester, my light weapons specialist, together with a
squad of troops, loaded them in a motorized boat,
and we headed out to the impact area. I'm guessing
that was 8-10 klicks away, maybe closer. Anyway,
about the time of night I guessed we were getting
close to our target area, the boat's motor
overheated and quit. We checked our immediate area
and saw no evidence the enemy, but no evidence of
the bomb run, either. We were still short of our
goal, but I didn't know how short. Also, we now had
these troops out there with no boat motor (did I
tell you this was high-water season and the water
over most of the land was knee to waist
deep--really, it would be a bad business to have to
walk home in that mix of water, grass, and reeds).
If the strike had hit whatever it was that had come
over the border, we were in no danger; but our
concern was that the strike had either missed the
target or had only been partially successful. There
might be enemy boats out there still coming our way
and there we were with no way to maneuver. To make a
long story short, Tester and I got all the others in
the boat and told them to keep their heads down but
to stay on watch while he and I, presuming we were
the strongest swimmers, got in the water, put the
bow lines in our teeth, and struck out
swimming//crawling back down the reedy canal toward
our village. I don't know how long it took for us to
drag that boat out of that mess, but it seemed like
hours. It doesn't need saying that we were a couple
of tired puppies when, sodden and covered with delta
mud and leeches, Tester and I finally pulled the
boat back up to our compound. We were glad to be
there though, so when all was said and done we went
through the gate singing a Christmas carol. I think
it was "Joy to the World."
The next morning we had Christmas. A chopper had
brought out our last mail a few days before and all
the guys and I had gotten packages from home. I had
encouraged everyone to hold off on opening their
packages until Christmas morning, so we all gathered
around our Christmas tree, which SFC Mau, our medic
had put together. It was some small green bush he
had dug up from somewhere and set in a pot and had
then strung with a string of lights made from
flashlight bulbs and commo wire plugged into the
battery of a Prick-25. He even had procured some red
cellophane tape from somewhere and had wrapped it
around some of the bulbs to have a mixture of red
and white lights. One of us had a transister AM
radio, so we listened to Christmas carols on AFVN
radio as we opened our Christmas packages. I
remember my mother's oldest sister, my Aunt Nadine,
sent an aluminum pie-pan completely filled with
divinity candy. I cut out chunks and gave pieces to
my team mates. It was wonderful stuff. I had things
from my wife and other family
members, too, but I remember none of them like that
divinity. That was a real touch of home! A little
later in the day, a couple of my team mates and I
took candy we had been saving from our team's SP
packs and a small, rubber band-powered airplane I
had had my wife send me, and we went down into the
village. We handed candy to kids until we ran out
and I gave the little airplane to the daughter of
the district chief. It was a simple balsa wood thing
that only required slipping the thin wing through
the balsa fuselage then winding the propeller until
the twisted rubber band
was tight. It would fly for thirty yards or so and
was a big hit. It was a low-tech kind of thing and I
figured she could play with at least it until all
the rubber bands broke. I might should have had my
wife send a small doll, but I wasn't forward
thinking enough for that! All in all, it was a
pretty good Christmas. Tester and I survived our
Christmas eve exercise in the water, I got some
Christmas divinity, and my team mates and I made
some village kids happy with candy and a toy
airplane. It could have been a lot
When I think back on that scene with the creche and
its haunting "Silent Night,"
I try to remember that, too; it could have been a
1Lt Terry Turner
MAT IV-32 CO (1969-70)
The card is from the 44th STZ commander send to
who was at the time a district senior advisor within
the 44th STZ
The front cover show what he think is the Sa Dec
famous pagoda tower in the delta.
This was adopted by the 44th Special Tactical Zone as
part of its logo.
Thanks to 1Lt Terry Turner, MAT IV-32, 69-70
New Years, 1967, I was at A-104 working the
radio. I had been in country for a couple of
months and been at A104 for that time. My senior
commo person SSGT. Duke, had arrived in camp from the
10th GRP. Jim was teaching me the correct way to
send morris code using the "bug". For
you non commo techs, that is the speed key. Jim
had learned to "ditty-bop" on the key which
I found fascinating. Not to many of the commo
people had knowledge of this. Sure screwed over
the C-Det group trying to copy.
Anyhow, we were trying to figure out how to
celebrate New Years Eve. We had a team meeting
to discuss and when a solution was agreed upon, we
implemented it. The final approval was Capt.
Gesregan. At the stroke of midnight, we were
going to illuminate the camp by firing flares from the
4.2 and 82MM mortars. I talked with the other
commo people at the other camps to see if they wanted
to join the festivities. I believe the weapons
team consisted of SGT. Gleason and SGT. Holman.
They prepared about 25 illumination rounds and was
waiting for the countdown to begin. We did not
inform C team of our plans. (Definitely heard
about it later). Nor did we inform the CIDG camp
commander. At the stroke of midnight, we blasted
the sky with the rounds. What a sight to see.
Off to the distance we could observe the other camps
doing the same same. After the first volley, the
CIDG came running out of their hootches scared
It didn't take C-Det long to get on the radio
trying to find out what was happening. All of the
team got together in the crowded commo
bunker singing "Silent Night" to them over
the radio. SGM. Hodges and Col. Schungle
didn't have a good sense of humor. Guess they
were not in the celebrating spirit.
So in the words of a**hole Walter Cronkite,
"And that's the way it was, New Years Eve, 1967
and New Years Day 1968."
Sgt Ivan Davis A-104 Ha Thanh
Halloween and Christmas story
We got a big, round squash from the Vietnamese and made
a “Jack-o-Lantern” out of it for Halloween.
The Montagnards were fascinated with it. We left
it in front of the main hooch until Christmas. By
that time, it began to mold and the mold looked like a
beard, so we made a Santa Claus out of it.
XO- 1st Lt George K Garner Gia Vuc A-725 1963/64
Courtesy of Dean Byrne A-503/B55, Christmas 1968
This didn't happen in I-Corps
but at my first A-Team, which was at An Phu, 4th Corps.
Around midnight on New Years Eve, Dec. 31, 1965, we
noticed that the next A-team down the border from us was
firing a lot of stuff in the dark sky. Flares and
tracer bullets. We radioed them and they
told us to relax:
"It's New Year's Eve!" We slapped our
We had just installed a 50-caliber machine gun that our
team had bought (illegally, by the way, from the US
Army's point of view) on the black market in Saigon.
So we loaded it with belts of tracer ammo and began
writing giant "S's" across the midnight.
A few moments later, a VC camp over the border in
Cambodia, began criss-crossing the sky with tracers.
And within in a few minutes, we made out another US
A-team far to the north of us firing flares and then
apparently some more VC across the Cambodian border
started shooting flares in the sky.
For a few moments, we all lighted up the sky over the
border of South Viet Nam and Cambodia in a celebration
of a New Year.
An Phu, Gia Vuc and lst Corps MF
C team watch tower Da Nang 1966
1966 at the Mike Force new compound in Da Nang
more on the I CORPS Mike Force, please visit Cpt
Virgil Carter website
Here’s a A-113 Mike Force New
Years Eve story
A-113 was a combined
U.S.-Australian team, with two companies of Montagnards
(one Rhade and one Koho, from II Corps),
and one Nung company (from Cholon in Saigon). The
Ozzies (God love ‘em) were famous for fixing Salty
Dogs and celebrating almost anything and everything.
This was a very good thing.
As it turned out, New Years Eve in Danang in 1966 was
quiet and we weren’t on alert to go anywhere.
So the setting was perfect to usher in the new year with
a celebratory Salty Dog New Year.
On New Year’s eve, the
requisite tubs were mixed with the brew, and someone (no
names will be used) had the great idea to celebrate the
coming of the New Year, beginning with Moscow time,
followed by Istanbul, Paris, New York, Chicago, Denver,
San Francisco, Honolulu, and finally, yes, Danang
Thus, on the hour, every hour, the intrepid Mike Force
team lined up on the South China coast facing east,
salty dogs in one hand and hand-held flares in the
other. On the hour, we would chug the salty dogs,
and then fire off the flares—red, green, whatever.
It was an awesome sight. I believe we thereafter
retired to the team house to reform and rearm, for the
next hourly recognition.
You can see where this is going.
Since there were 59 minutes
until the next formation, we might have even replenished
the salty dogs while we waited, hour after hour.
I’m not sure about that part. Well, actually I
am, but there’s a limit to how much I can disclose.
I can say, with some authority, that by the time New
Year’s arrived in Danang, there were more than a
couple of team members that needed several tries to
launch their flares (after all it took two hands to fire
the flares, and a certain hand-eye coordination).
But let’s be clear: no one ever faltered in
putting away the salty dogs. History will long
note that we saw our duty, overcame all odds and our
team performed magnificently, even if (and especially
because) some team mates were in the prone position at
Thus we ushered 1967 into
existence in I Corps.
De Oppresso Liber!
Cpt V Carter, A-103, A-113
dawned cold and rainy over Camp Cung Son.
A front had moved in off the South China Sea, and the
weather was dark and forbidding.
It was the kind of rain that soaks you and chills you,
accompanied by fog and low clouds.
We had a battalion of the 173rd Airborne
working in the eastern part of our AO, up in the costal
We had run one CIDG/US operation looking for a reported
VC prison camp up there,
but there was nothing where the report said it should
This Christmas morning we were all happy to be in camp,
with no operations out.
We constantly checked the perimeter, as the weather
would allow Mr. Charles to come in closer without
and make air support next to useless. Lucky for us, all
It was getting toward noon, and some of the team was in
the team house, drinking coffee
or hot chocolate from C-rations, and listening to the
173rd’s radio traffic.
The Airborne had a patrol out, up there in the
highlands, looking for the VC. We heard the voice
on the radio, the patrol leader by the authority in his
voice and his call sign, call in at various times to
report his progress and location.
This happened repeatedly, and became routine.
Suddenly the squelch broke and this time stress could be
heard in the voice as we could hear firing in the
The patrol was in contact, and it was not clear with how
many or where the enemy was.
After several transmissions and responses, we learned
that we had witnessed the death of seven fellow American
soldiers. The VC had hidden in the wet foliage, and the
rain and fog the patrol had walked right by them.
The enemy then rose and shot down the last of the
troopers in the file, after which they disappeared into
The weather prevented a MEDEVAC and the dead and wounded
had to be carried back to base.
Our team house was silent for a long time. Finally the
heavy weapons SGT said it all as he put down his coffee
and walked out of the team house into the rain. “Merry
but one that brings into focus the sacrifices and
dedication of our armed forces, especially those in
harm’s way during this holiday season. May God grant
that no other NCO has to mutter those words over the
loss of fellow soldiers.
My only recollection of Christmas in Gia Vuc was
probably December 1967. My sister sent a small,
fake Christmas tree, complete with blinking
lights, that we put between our bunks in the Commo
I had purchased a Dokorder Stereo Tape Deck in
Danang, which we connected to a Sansui Tuner/Amp
that I had also purchased in Danang before
heading out to Bato and eventually, Gia Vuc.
Somewhere along the line I had also picked up a
box with 3 lights and a crossover network inside,
which reacted to 3 distinct frequencies when music was
fed to it. Colored lights would flash in
time with the latest and greatest Nancy Sinatra song,
"These boots were made for walkin'".
Between that display and the lights on the
Christmas Tree, it was pretty festive in the ol' Commo
My Grandmother sent chocolate chip cookies, which I
received well after Christmas (all of my presents from
state-side were at least a month late), packed in
Salted Peanuts in the Shell. I remember making
a little reel-to-reel audiotape (with one of those
little, battery-operated recorders) thanking her for
sending me those delicious Peanuts, "packed in
the broken chocolate chip cookies". She
never forgave me for that comment!
I had a knack of recording those tapes when we were
being shelled from one of the hills near
camp, just about every morning, about 3 O'Clock.
Of course, being the only Radio Operator in camp, my
shift was 24/7. We couldn't do much at that time
in the morning, under fire, except hunker down (and
make recordings with one hand and hold a rifle in the
other). Today I listen to those tapes and can
hear mortars exploding in the background.
My relatives must've thought I was in some kind of
danger, or something!
SSGT William G. Howe RA16817975
Card sent Sgt W.G. Howe
Merry Christmas To All,
I know it is a little late to reflect on Christmas
in the trenches but I do want to share my
Christmas story in 1967 with you. I was at My Da
"A-433" well down in the Delta. A few days
before Christmas Team Sgt Rip Burns told me he wanted
to send me to Saigon to acquire supplies for the
Team. A chore that someone had to do every 4 to 6
weeks. Just happened that my very close friend Gordon
Yntema was being transferred to one of our sister
A Camps "Cai Cai". Ike and I left camp on
the same chopper to Can Tho and spent a lovely
evening at Tiger's. Next morning we said our goodbye's
and I went to Saigon Ike went to Cai Cai. Got to Saigon
and settled in at Camp Goodman. Just happened that the
father of a girl I had known in San Antonio while we
were at Ft Sam " Marion
Williams " was head of the Cholon PX in Saigon.
Needless to say I managed to get all the supplies I
needed and then some, he even put me up in his Hotel
for a night.
Was assigned a driver with a Deuce and a half truck
for a few days to do my scrounging which I managed to
do very well. We had cases of frozen T-Bones, all
sorts of canned goods for the cook and even another 5
KW diesel generator to send back to camp. I stayed at
Camp Goodman for the Christmas party another day or
so. "68 Tet" activity was starting to heat
up and it took several days to get out of Saigon. We
would go to the air field every morning and they would
say too much incoming today, all flights canceled. I
finally got out to C Team in Can Tho and was sitting
in the club there by the airstrip enjoying a cool
refreshing libation when the biggest explosion I had
ever seen, part of the fuel dump by the airstrip
was blown up. Next morning I was able to get back to
the trenches where it was much safer. Everyone
was very happy with all the goodies I had sent back
but since I wasn't there on Christmas they opened a
package I had received from my Day. There were two
bottles of Crown Royal in there and at least the
bastards left me one of them. I forgave them later
after remembering the time I had in Saigon.
A few days later I was in our commo bunker with
Chuck Hightower our "28"and we were
monitoring an operation out of CAI CAI where they had
crossed the Cambodia border and ran into a much bigger
force of Uncle Charles. From what we could tell Ike
was the last one alive and he was out of ammo and
swinging his weapon at them when he perished. You can
read his story in the CMH list.
"Merry Fucking Christmas Ike"
Bac Si James L Weldon, A-433 My Da,
Christmas 1968 in Ha Thanh
in 69 the Santa Bou came into A-104
The crew came up to the team house bringing eggnog,
cigars and round eyed nurses.
I always remembered them as being from Pleiku, but
searching on the web, points to Da Nang or Phu Cat I
The yards loved the Santa Bou as he buzzed the camp
and if truth be known, we thought it was pretty cool
I actually got to show a couple of nurses around the
camp and through the hospital/dispensary.
If I understood it correctly, the AF unit that flew
the Caribous paid for all the refreshments and candy
etc out of their pocket and flew into several
It was a damn nice thing to do and at Christmas I
always have a warm memory of them in a little corner
of my heart.
SSG Michael Fairlie
For photos of
"Santa Bou", visit the C-7A
Click on "Santa
Bou" below for direct link
If any of the crew
from "Santa Bou" or any of the nurses
who visited the A camps during the Vietnam war
are reading this.
This story is on
behalf of the Force Recon teams working out of
Gia-Vuc, Tra Bong and Bato during December of
1965. We had been using these camps to develop
strategies to perform deeper and deeper
reconnaissance missions. My team, Team 3, 2nd
Platoon, was sent to Okinawa with 2/9 (2nd
Battalion, 9th Marines) for a long needed rest,
replacements and re-supply before making the
largest amphibious landing in Vietnam which
spearheaded Operation Double Eagle, January, 1966.
Several Force Recon teams were working with
Special Forces, Nungs and CIDG units out
of Gia-Vuc, Tra Bong and Bato. We received a
report that three Force Recon Marines were killed,
one captured, ten CIDG members (one of which was a
Vietnamese Lieutenant) and one Special Forces
Sergeant were killed and several other
Marines, ARVN's, CIDG, Nungs were wounded and/or
MIA. There had been a night ambush by North
Vietnamese, and Viet Cong/PAVN units that was
the result of the teams staying in the same
base camp situated on a prominent hill top for
three days. This mistake was extremely costly and
led to reevaluating strategies for utilizing
combined forces on the same mission.
On Christmas Eve,
First Platoon was rotating back to the States and
we got together for a celebration...however, as
hard as we tried to cover up our feelings the
celebration turned into a solemn tribute to
our fallen warrior brothers. We had been using the
Special Forces camps very successfully up until
this time, both learning invaluable skills from
the Special Forces soldiers and developing clandestine
since 1965, while family members are engaged in
playful activities and the drinks are poured in
celebration of the seasons festivities, I quietly
dismiss myself and find a darkened corner where I
can pray for my warrior brothers...their names
don't have to be on a wall, they're forever
engraved in my heart, mind, soul and
spirit...we'll all meet again on that Parade Field
for the Holy Spirit...
Ray Rossi, Team 3, 1st Force Recon
1967 Christmas card send by WO
P Hart, Raider 37, who flew from Gia Vuc in August
See his article in the Vietnam magazine Dec 2011
Air Cav Strikes Deep into Song Re Valley by Paul
please get in touch, we would love to hear from
Sherman the archivist for
the Special Forces and Special Operations Associations
Need your help!
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