Ritchie, Richard Stephen (Steve)
In all likelihood, there will not be another “ace” in aerial combat. General SteveRitchie is the last aviator to earn that distinction by shooting down five North Vietnamese MIG 21 aircraft in 1972.
Ritchie was born and raised in Reidsville. In high school days, he was the star quarterback on the Reidsville football team and a very good athlete. He credits Reidsville football coach George Wingfield with much of his desire and determination to succeed in life. Through a high school friend, Ritchie learned about the new Air Force Academy in Colorado and the adventures that it could offer. After graduation from high school in 1960, he received a nomination to attend the Academy and quickly accepted it, thus beginning a 39-year relationship with the United States Air Force. Ritchie retired from the Air Force reserve as a Brigadier General in 1999.
Life was rigorous at the Air Force Academy, but Ritchie believes his time there was an unmatched learning and character-building experience. Not long after arriving at the Academy in June 1960, Ritchie concluded he wanted to be a fighter pilot. He also wanted to continue to play football and “walked on” to an Air Force team that was new to collegiate ranks, the Academy having just graduated its first four-year class in 1959. The first four-year team was undefeated under legendary coach Ben Martin and ranked 10th in the nation. Ritchie had built up his strength and weight over the summer, made the team, and started as halfback his final two years on the team. In the 1963 season, Ritchie’s senior year, a very good Air Force team lost to University of North Carolina in the Gator Bowl.
After graduation, Ritchie attended flight school at Laredo TX. He graduated number one in flight school and was able to choose the aircraft in which he would receive further training. He chose the F-104 Starfighter. After training in the Starfighter, a new aircraft was coming on the scene, the F-4 Phantom, originally developed for the Navy but reengineered for Air Force duty. Ritchie went to Homestead Air Force base to learn to fly the F-4. The F-4 was a multipurpose aircraft for the Air Force. It was heavy and hard to turn in flight. However, it held the speed and climb to altitude records, could carry much armament and made a good fighter. It also left a smoke contrail that could be seen for 20 miles. On the other hand, its adversary, the Russian built MIG 21 did not leave much trail and could not be seen beyond 2 miles. At supersonic speeds, this was a distinct disadvantage to the F-4 pilot. As Ritchie comments, “Fortunately the North Vietnamese were not very accurate with their missiles.”
Ritchie volunteered for, and was assigned to, Vietnam. He flew a magnificent, brand-new F-4 to Vietnam, refueling every 45 minutes from an accompanying tanker aircraft. There were some stops along the way. The planes tanks were topped off regularly so if there were any trouble they could reach a base in the Pacific.
Ritchie arrived in Vietnam on April 1, 1968. His first night in Danang, there was an enemy rocket attack. This happened every few nights, aiming primarily for aircraft, not the service members stationed there. Ritchie lived in an old French compound built in 1954 with a high wall around it. All the service help in the compound were Vietnamese. While Ritchie was there, he noticed one day that half the Vietnamese service help was gone. He learned that the missing half were all Viet Cong – helping us during the day and fighting against us at night. A person did not go off the base at night if that person valued his life.
Captain Ritchie flew some routine missions and became qualified for night missions. On his fourth mission after being qualified as night flight leader, he was to take off at night in a raging thunderstorm. His wingman was a major flying his first night mission. At night, pilots kept in touch through radar and radio. While on the runway prior to takeoff, Ritchie and his wingman were held up, awaiting a plane coming in with battle damage from Viet Cong guerillas, incurred on their approach to the airfield. The crew of the damaged plane bailed out and the plane crashed on the airfield. It was a disturbing sight for Ritchie and his wingman preparing for his first night mission.
As soon as Ritchie and his wingman took off, the wingman radioed Ritchie that his radar had failed and he could not detect Ritchie’s aircraft. Ritchie and his wingman pressed on, but the thunderstorm caused the F-4s to be tossed about uncontrollably even with a full load of fuel and armament. It was the most frightened Ritchie had ever been in his life. Then the wingman said, “My radio is going out.” The wingman immediately went down to 1500 feet, saw the field and went in for an emergency landing. Ritchie also aborted and as he came in tracer bullets from Viet Cong guerillas passed by his cockpit. He had a heavy plane in a thunderstorm and tracer bullets flying past him. To avoid hydroplaning off the runway, Ritchie asked for the Navy arresting cable to be set up on the runway to catch his plane and control it while slowing it down. Everything worked. Ritchie, his wingman and their crewmembers were safe but weak-kneed. After that experience, Ritchie thought, “This will be a long tour of duty.”
While in Vietnam, Ritchie worked on a procedure of Forward Air Control (Fast Fac) calling in Air strikes by using F-4 jet aircraft instead of vulnerable, small, slow, piston engine observation planes. Ritchie was instrumental in the success of the program and flew 95 missions of 6-to-8-hour duration identifying targets and calling for air strikes by F-4s or B-52 bombers.
On one flight over the Ho Chi Min trail, his F-4 was hit by enemy fire. His plane shook and his right engine started vibrating. Ritchie cut back power on his damaged right engine and made it back to base. A bullet had gone cleanly through the engine and did not hit anything except rotor blades, thus the strong vibrations. If it had been an explosive shell, Ritchie would probably not have made it back. With a new right engine, his plane again flew perfectly.
In 1968, Ritchie volunteered for Top Gun school and was accepted. After graduating with honors, he stayed on for two and a half years as one of the youngest instructors in the program.
He again volunteered for combat in Vietnam and after some brief non-combat duty there, was assigned to 555 (triple nickel) Fighter Squadron flying the F-4 Phantom again. In April 1972, he flew his first mission as protective cover for a B-52 strike mission on downtown Hanoi. On May 10, 1972, Ritchie’s squadron met four MIG-21s head on. They were identified and the F-4s opened fire. Ritchie got his first kill that day. His squadron leader got two kills that day but was later shot down in the skirmish. He had always said he would not be captured so rather than bailing out and risking capture, he went down with his plane. His remains were identified six years later. His crewmember bailed out and was later rescued – an exciting story. From that point on, Ritchie led all missions over Vietnam for the 555 squadron.
Ritchie scored another kill on May 31, 1972. On July 8, 1972, Ritchie scored two more MIG-21 kills. Ritchie calls it a perfect mission. Everything worked as planned. All the training, education, communication skills and experience he had gained in the air gelled into two remarkable kills. It started when a radar control aircraft 150 miles away warned there were two bandits approaching Ritchie and that he was under attack. Ritchie could not see them but immediately turned and saw a MIG. Ritchie said, “If I had stayed on my course another 15 seconds I would not be here. I got a good radar lock on him and fired” – one kill. Ritchie went after the other MIG, got a good radar lock and fired. Two MIGs downed in one minute and 29 seconds.
Ritchie got a lot of attention after that as most thought it was only a matter of time before he would get kill number five. In Ritchie’s eyes, his four kills made him more cautious than ever because he did not want to be diverted and put another aircraft and crew in harm’s way due to seeking ace status. His first mission was to protect the flight, second to take pictures of strike damage, third, kill MIGs. He concentrated on the first two.
The mission on August 28, 1972, was one he had flown in training and taught a dozen times. His squadron was leaving North Vietnam heading southwest and met a group of MIGs heading northeast returning to base. Slightly out of range, Ritchie fired two missiles and missed. After some “right out of the book” combat aerobatics, he fired two more and one of the MIGs turned right into the path of the third missile fired. That kill was number five and Ritchie became the only Air Force ace of the Vietnam War and the last ace. The party at the officer’s club that night was one to remember.
Ritchie is one of the most highly decorated Air Force pilots having earned the Air Force Cross, 10 Distinguished Flying Crosses, Four Silver Stars and many other medals. Ritchie flew 339 missions with 800 air combat hours. He retired from the Air Force in 1974 to run for Congress on the Republican ticket at the request of Barry Goldwater. The Nixon Watergate scandal sank many Republican candidates, so Ritchie was not successful in his bid for office. He also concluded he would rather fly in combat than run for public office.
His varied career since retirement has included work with the Air Force in recruitment, motivational talks to various groups and to high school students about protecting the American market system, national defense as well as to be a positive role model to young people. Even today, he will meet someone who heard him talk a long time ago and he or she will say that his talk changed his or her life. Ritchie says, “That is worth it all.”
Adkins, Donald V.
In Vietnam air combat, from 50 feet above the ground to an altitude of 2000 feet is the “dead zone”. You had to fly a helicopter below 50 feet from the ground to surprise the enemy or else over 2000 feet altitude, which was outside the effective range of small arms fire. You did not survive in the dead zone. Donald V. Adkins avoided the dead zone and survived his 750 Vietnam combat missions as a helicopter pilot to enable him to later retire with many honors from the Army.
Upon graduation from high school in Charleston WVA, Adkins enrolled at Marshall University on an athletic scholarship, participating in football, wrestling, and track. His father, who was a World War II veteran, encouraged the military life, so Adkins joined the Army ROTC. He was obligated to two years of active duty upon graduation. Shortly after graduation from Marshall, he was commissioned as a second lieutenant and assigned to an Armor (tank) unit in Fort Knox, KY. It was only four months later when he was sent to Korea, assigned to the Seventh Infantry Division to assist in guarding the two-mile wide demilitarized zone on the 38th parallel between North and South Korea. On the way to Korea, while waiting in an airport, Adkins heard John Foster Dulles, US Secretary of State; say, “If necessary, we will fight to the last man in Korea”. Adkins and his fellow soldiers looked at each other and remarked, “He is talking about us”.
When not on the DMZ border, Adkins was assigned as reconnaissance platoon leader, commanding two tanks, and five machine gun jeeps doing “war games” and training exercises. His mission was to find the enemy and suppress their activity.
Adkins had been married to Jane for a year when assigned to Korea and she could not officially join him for the thirteen-month assignment. She did come over as a “tourist” however, and lived in an apartment in Seoul. Adkins’ first daughter was born in Korea.
After his 13-month Korea duty, Adkins was able to choose his next assignment to Fort Knox KY, training soldiers in tank operations. Upon returning to Fort Knox, Adkins decided to make the Army his career and applied for a regular commission.
Adkins remarked that the worst job in a tank is that of “gunner”. The other tank crew members can look out a hatch or slit opening but the loader cannot see outside from his position except through an optical viewfinder. The confined tank space can cause problems for a crewmember who is not psychologically suited for the task. There is much foam padding inside a tank, but crew members still must wear head protection for the frequent jolts and bumps. Firing a gun is very dangerous in a tank. A crewmember could be crushed by the gun’s recoil if he is not in the proper position.
After receiving his regular commission, Adkins applied for Airborne and Ranger training – a 13-week course. This was both physically and emotionally demanding. It included hand-to-hand and bayonet combat training. Several men dropped out before completion of the courses. The instructors were known to say “Completion of the course is a matter of mind over matter – we don’t mind and you don’t matter.” Going five days without sleep and food, except what could be dug up or found growing, worked on a man’s mind more than the physical aspects of the training. Earning a Ranger badge is an extraordinary achievement.
The airborne portion of the training included that of building up the whole body, especially the legs, as well as practicing the acrobatic part of the landing, which allows a person to absorb the shock over his whole body. The instructors joked that all parachutes were guaranteed, saying, “If a parachute does not open, you can always come back and get another one”. After the required five jumps, Adkins earned his parachutist wings. This, not being enough for Adkins, he volunteered to attend a jungle-training course in Panama. This taught him how to navigate and survive in primitive conditions.
Upon return to Fort Knox, Adkins applied for flight school; first at Fort Rucker, Alabama as a fixed wing observation pilot and later to Fort Walters Texas for helicopter training. He graduated in October 1962 in the middle of the Cuban Missile Crisis and was assigned a special command going into Cuba as part of an attack force. These orders were countermanded, and he returned to Fort Knox to an Advanced Armor course. Germany was his next duty station for two years as Adjutant of an Aviation Battalion. About this time in 1966, combat in Vietnam was heating up. Pilots qualified in the “Huey” helicopter were needed badly in Vietnam. Adkins was not trained in the Huey so was sent to a quick instruction course. His instructor told Adkins that he “could not fail” the course because he was needed in Vietnam. Adkins received orders to the First Cavalry Division in Vietnam for one year, arriving on 8/11/66 at Pleiku. Upon arrival, he observed ambulances moving about and wounded being treated – not a good omen. Adkins was promptly sent to An Khe, his base camp, called a Landing Zone, where he would live the next year. His new home was a tent.
Captain Adkins was put in charge of a scout platoon consisting of ten OH 13 light observation helicopters. These had two seats and a bubble canopy with machine guns on either side. His job was to find the enemy. The night before the mission, he would be briefed and then go to bed. He would get up before daylight, eat a good breakfast, and look at maps showing recent trails where Viet Cong were traveling. If he found VC, he would call in the lift helicopters with their troops to deal with the enemy. If much enemy activity was found he would fly for his limit of 2 hours and 40 minutes of fuel, return, refuel, and go out again until the problems were handled – that sometimes was from dawn to dusk. Then came the reports of the day’s activity to mission interrogators before concluding the day’s work. Every day was the same. The way Adkins kept up with the day of the week was; each Monday he had to take a large malaria “horse pill” in addition to the small one he took every day. Worship services did not help him remember because services could be held any day of the week due to the chaplain’s erratic schedule.
The same ground was fought over several times during Adkins’ time in Vietnam. In September of 1966, he was sent to Phan Thiet near Saigon to clear out enemy strongholds. The base always had razor wire around the perimeter and guards on duty, to watch for infiltrators. Adkins typically had “first light” and “last light” missions. The first light missions frequently caught the VC guerrillas still marching to their destination. Sometimes smoke from breakfast fires gave away their location for later attack by our forces. Last light missions were flown to keep the enemy from advancing near the base for a night attack. Flights had to be close to the ground to see the enemy in the jungle. Many times Adkins’ helicopter skids almost hit the treetops. Sometimes, he could not tell where the enemy was until he was fired upon.
In his cavalry troop, there were scout helicopters, gunships, lift ships, and platoons of infantry. The scouts would find the enemy; lift helicopters would take the troops to the enemy with fire support from gunships. Adkins stayed in Phan Thiet until December 1966 and returned to troop headquarters where he was promoted to Major and made Troop Commander. Adkins then began flying gun ship missions. Adkins’ Huey gunship had mini guns like Gatling guns on both sides capable of firing 5000 rounds per minute. It had 14 rockets, which were fired two at a time by aiming the helicopter at the target. Some gunships also had grenade launchers.
The cooperation with the Air force was superb. Adkins could call in B-52 strikes on large targets he found, and the sensation was similar to an earthquake when the bombs struck their target. The bombers could obliterate a square mile of countryside. It was routine that civilians be warned of the impending strikes so they could evacuate the area.
Adkins was often in the position of helping his fellow soldiers escape from dangerous situations. On one mission, two helicopters had been shot down and Adkins put himself in an exposed position while hovering over the downed helicopters, suppressing enemy fire as other helicopters came to rescue the crew. Adkins himself was shot down twice. The first time, he was rescued by an Air Force helicopter and the second time by an infantry platoon, which provided security to escape. The medals and commendations Adkins earned are testimony to his valor under fire.
One of the most difficult problems was identifying the enemy. Viet Cong guerrillas would live inconspicuously in the villages but while friendly today, tomorrow they would try to kill you. Some of the VC were only 14 years old and some of the VC women were tougher fighters than the men. Adkins had no animosity toward the Vietnamese people per se and liked some of the civilians very much. However, the atrocities he heard about made him eager to rid the earth of the enemy who could do such things.
Adkins had opportunity to take rest and recreation leave to Hawaii while in Vietnam and Jane could have traveled to be with him but they elected not to do so. As difficult as it was the first time he had to say goodbye to Jane as he left for combat, it would be doubly difficult now that he knew what awaited him upon his return to Vietnam. He did finally take a few personal days off and his destination was wherever the “next airplane” was headed. It happened to be Penang, Malaysia where he enjoyed a brief respite from combat.
The Ahn Lo valley was called the valley of death. Nothing lived there because it had been bombed and fought over until no living thing survived. When Adkins was sent home after his year in Vietnam, it sickened him to hear of later battles in that same valley where some of his men had been killed while capturing it.
Adkins is proud to say that his unit never left a man behind. Every crewmember down was rescued and brought to safety. All bodies of those killed in action were also recovered. One of Adkins’ most heart wrenching duties was to write home to the wives and parents of those killed in action.
Adkins is proud of the young soldiers he served with. Without exception, they did a good job in an unpopular war and would not let their friends down in very trying circumstances.
Adkins completed his duty in Vietnam and enjoyed a happy homecoming with his family, one of whom was an 18-month-old child who did not know “daddy”. Adkins career continued with assignments including Command and General Staff School, Force Development in the Pentagon (obtaining a master’s degree in systems management while there), Physical Education Instructor at West Point, Commander of an Air Cavalry Squadron at Ft. Bragg and Recruiting Duty in WVA. He was then offered an assignment in Germany but because of his family needs decided to retire and take a position with Morehead High School as ROTC Commander, and where he later became Athletic Director. He retired a second time after serving as principal at Holmes Middle School.
Adkins appreciates every day and is proud of his career as a soldier. It helps put life in perspective for him. In Vietnam, every decision he made caused someone to live or die. He vowed never to let life’s small problems disturb him. In comparison to combat, all other problems he has faced since then have been small ones
Lieutenant Colonel Adkins flew 750 combat missions, earned the Silver Star, Distinguished Flying Cross, and 30 Air Medals, one for valor, among other medals. All the awards commended Adkins bravery and valor under fire. He still serves his community in significant ways and continues an active life. He and wife Jane also enjoy being with their six children and their families, including seven grandchildren.
Shinn, Thomas Pinkney
Editor’s note: the complete 75-page World War I diary, Army uniform and other artifacts of Thomas P. Shinn, a longtime resident of Eden NC who passed away in 1988, were recently forwarded by the family to Kenneth R. Samuelson. This material is being donated to the NC Museum of History/Military Collection in Raleigh. Mr. Samuelson has written this month’s article based on one day of Mr. Shinn’s experience, November 11, 1918, the day Armistice ended World War I.
This story represents an edited excerpt from the Diary of
Thomas Pinkney Shinn (age 22)
First Sergeant, Company B
81st Division 321st Infantry
US Army – American Expeditionary Force
Veteran of the Meuse-Argonne Campaign
Monday November 11th, 1918
At 4:30 a.m., I was trying to get some rest in my little hole dug in the ground. The big shells were falling near me, and I could hear the Boche (German) machine guns puttering away a few hundred yards to our front. About 5 o’clock, the captain was ordered to report to Battalion Headquarters and in a few minutes, he came back and called Lt. Hall and myself and told us we would advance on the Boche at 6 a.m. sharp. We called all the Lieutenants and platoon sergeants and gave them the orders. We walked around and looked at the men sleeping in their shell holes and wondered how many of them would be living at noon that day. I thought how hard it would be to arouse them from a peaceful sleep and go out to kill or be killed. We knew there were two sides to war, and we either would survive or be buried here, so we did not worry. It was second nature to obey orders.
At this time, we called the men and told them what we were to do at 6 a.m. The men rubbed their eyes and tightened their belts for there was no water to drink or use to wash their faces, nor food to fill their stomachs. The men took it in good nature and prepared to go over the top in a few minutes. We formed our lines and got in position to advance on the Boche. The first and second platoons in the first wave were in command of Lieutenants Blackmon and Campbell; the third and fourth platoons in the second wave in command of Lieutenants Howard and Crawford. The men formed their skirmish lines just as though we were in a practice battle and started out. The high explosive shells started falling just as though it was raining from above. We would fall flat on the ground, get up again, and advance a little further. The men kept their heads and advanced according to orders. After we had advanced about 3 kilometers, we could hear the continuous sing of machine gun fire and every now and then a man could be seen going to the rear with a bullet pierced arm or limping back on a leg that had been shot with machine gun fire.
Nothing could stop us if life lasted, for we were to follow our orders in combat or die trying. About 8:30 a.m., we struck a solid line of machine guns, and they fired on us. There was a woods full of them. We fought them there for an hour. They were killing and wounding us, and our men were doing the same to them. I lay flat on the ground trying to keep from being hit by the machine gun bullets that were flying around us and the big shells that dropped everywhere. Only a few feet away, a comrade of mine, Nathan Pennett, said “Sarge, give me a match I want to smoke”. I told him I had a match but could not give it to him without exposing myself to the Germans, so I did not give it to him. We lay there and joked. He told me he had 700 francs in his pocket and if he got killed, I could take it out of his pocket and spend it.
The Boche quieted a little and we advanced again as they retreated for a counterattack. We rushed on for several kilometers and the captain, and I were just behind the front lines. We were lost in fog and wading in water waist deep. The front wave was fired upon from the flank, so the captain sent orders to Lt. Howard to clean the woods on the right and Lt. Crawford, the woods to the left. We saw them disappear but did not expect them to return. We rushed on for some distance and found that we were caught in a trap. They were firing on us from all sides and the rear too. The captain sent orders to the front wave to hold its position until the rear could come up. We fought there in the marsh up to our waist in the coldest water I have ever felt.
We were in an awful fix being in a trap from all sides. The machine gun fire from the front and the rear was killing many men. The woods in front of us were filled with machine guns and barbed wire and it was impossible to advance. The Captain gave us orders to retreat a little way and he would call for an artillery barrage, which he did, and the barrage was a success because in a few minutes we launched our counterattack. Just as we launched our attack, the Boche started putting the heaviest barrage of high explosives on us that I had ever seen. Our scouts were out in advance of the front wave about 40 yards. The fog was so dense that we could not see them at all but we knew very well when they met the enemy for, they opened with what seemed to us a thousand machine guns and a few 75mm artillery, which they shot whiz bang point blank at us. Just then, my good friend, Sgt. Pittman, who was on my left, was killed instantly by machine gun fire. Two more of our boys near me, were killed a few minutes later.
About this time, we struck a barbed wire entanglement about 3 feet high and 30 feet through. We could not get through the wire for it was too strong and wide, but we had a nasty fight at that place. While we “entertained” the Boche for a few minutes, one of our boys by the name of Carpenter crawled through a little path in the wire and came very near jabbing a gunner with his bayonet. Then one of the Huns shot him in the neck with an automatic pistol. He fell and we fought there within a few feet of him for several hours, hearing his pitiful cries for help but could not get to him. It was so foggy that the Boche crawled up and took him prisoner. Our line was only about 130 feet from the Boche line, but they were making it so hot for us we could not move forward only a few men at the time, and it was slow work. Right then I crawled over to cut some telephone wire with my pliers, and a sniper came very close to getting me. His bullet cut a hole in the overcoat I was wearing.
The big shells were falling so thick and fast that I had an idea that I only had a few minutes to live. It was so cold I knew if I did not get killed by a shell or bullet that I would freeze to death. I was wet to my neck and my clothes had frozen stiff on me. The shell holes would fill up with water in a few minutes, so we kept moving to new shell holes as they were made. I was so cold that I was numb all over. I had not seen any fire or shelter for more than 48 hours and two days without food, water or sleep was getting on my nerves. But I could not think much of things like that for my mind was full of thoughts as to how I could save myself and kill a Hun. They made it so hot for us that we had to lay low in a shell hole for half hour or more. While lying in the shell hole one of my friends came to me and asked me to send a man to the rear with him as he had had his left arm blown off between the elbow and shoulder and he was bleeding very fast. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do to tell him I could not send anyone back with him. I had to leave him lying in a shell hole weak and pale. I never saw him again, but I feel sure someone picked him up.
About 10:45 am, the Boche seemed to shoot everything they had at us. They made us keep our heads so near the ground that I had mud in my ears. At 7 minutes to 11 a.m., a runner came up to the captain, out of breath, and handed him an order. I do not know what it said but I know it pleased the captain very much. As soon as he read the order, he called two runners and told them to go to the platoons and give them orders to cease firing at 11 o’clock
As soon at the captain had sent the orders down the line he came over, shook my hand, and said we must try to keep from being killed in the next five minutes and all would be well. At 11 a.m., we ceased fire. The Germans jumped up, threw their rifles down, and came running to meet us. They wanted to shake hands and talk with us, but we made them go back.
We spent the rest of the day gathering up the dead and wounded off the fields and they were plentiful. We hauled many loads of dead bodies and buried the dead in a hole dug like a long ditch. The men were laid close together side by side and covered up. The Company pitched their pup tents and built fires. Our orders were to place a heavy guard along the line we held at 11 am. Late that evening, after the excitement was over, I fell down and could not go any further. My Captain brought me a piece of hard bread and some muddy water from a shell hole and with an hour’s rest I could go on and move again. It was almost like heaven to us cold, wet, tired, and hungry boys to make a fire and sleep a little. The Captain and I slept in a German dugout we captured from the Boche the day before. It had been a German officer’s quarters. We had a small stove and some straw bunks, but it was what seemed to us to be the most ideal place we had ever slept in. The Germans celebrated all night long by sending up flares and lights from the trenches and they were so glad that they would not sleep at all. We were perfectly happy to get some good rest and sleep the night of November 11, 1918.
Mr. Shinn was born April 26, 1896, in Kannapolis NC and was a long-time employee of Fieldcrest Mills in Eden NC. He married Mattie Krimminger of Kannapolis. There are four living children from that marriage. Mrs. Mary Shinn (Kenneth) Ross lives in Rockingham County; Harold lives in Milford NJ and Conrad in Pensacola, FL. A daughter, Jean Shinn Hart, who donated her father’s WW I material to the NC Archives on behalf of the family, lives in Nashville TN. One daughter Peggy and one son Harry are deceased.
Clark, James E. Jr.
Jim Clark Junior’s father was a marine. This accounts for the fact that he was born in Quantico VA, a home base for marines. Jim Jr. liked military life and aspired to it but was diverted for a time before becoming a career soldier. After 28 years of service, Clark is slated to retire from the Army in November 2006.
Clark’s early years were spent in Greensboro NC. He moved with his family to Georgia, graduating from High School in Powder Springs. Clark went on to Kennesaw College, joined the ROTC and became one of the first Army Officers to graduate from the ROTC program at Kennesaw. Clark’s first duty station was Fort Hood with the First Cavalry, Second Battalion, Company B. Clark had chosen “Armor” as his specialty and became a platoon leader for five M 60 tanks and 20 men. His work at Fort Hood included arranging visits to the facility for high profile people including congressional representatives and military dignitaries.
Clark speaks of the danger in being a tank crewmember and says, “Tanks are designed to kill, and they don’t care who they kill, the enemy or a crewmember.” Being a tank crewmember is dangerous work for many reasons. There were 63 shells of various types in Clark’s tank – high explosive, smoke, beehive (anti-personnel), and armor piercing. The M 60 could also be used as an artillery piece. After firing, the shell casing would be ejected within the tank. The spent shell casing could cause death or serious injury if a crewmember happened to be in the wrong position within the tank.
Clark left the Army for a few years to work in private industry. However, the allure of military life and the camaraderie he enjoyed gave him the desire to go back to active duty from reserve status. Clark calls it Divine Intervention that he was selling computers in the late 1980’s and happened to meet an Army Reserve officer who needed the computer skills Clark had gained in his civilian work. This chance meeting resulted in Clark going back to “active guard reserve” status in 1989. He was again on a career Army officer path.
Clark had a varied series of assignments in the next 12 years in Marietta GA, Fort Huachuca AZ, Fort Devens MA and Alaska. During the Fort Devens assignment, he was involved in mobilization of reserves for the United Nations peacekeeping effort in Bosnia. This experience paid dividends for Clark in his own deployment to Iraq in 2005.
In 2001, Clark was assigned to an “operations center” position in the Pentagon in the office of Chief of the Army Reserves. Clark was one of 400 people working for the Chief of Army Reserves. His office was in Crystal City VA while permanent offices were being renovated in the Pentagon. On September 11, 2001, American Airlines flight 77 crashed into the very space that Clark would have occupied had he been working at the Pentagon. His Crystal City office was only a short distance from the disaster at the Pentagon. Clark remembers well the horror and confusion in the DC area. The building he worked in, and the entire District of Columbia was evacuated. Roads were clogged. It took about eight hours for him to get home that evening. Telephone lines were jammed. After two days, he was recalled to his office and began manning the operation center phones. Finally, life began to return to some semblance of normalcy as it did across the United States.
After several months, Clark interviewed for work at the Inspector General (IG) of the Army’s office at the Pentagon. He was chosen and began work as the Assistant Officer in Charge of the Inquiry Dept. The IG handles a myriad of investigations, inspections, inquiries, assists military personnel, and ensures compliance to regulations. This organization sometime strikes fear into the hearts of those being “inspected.”
Working at the Pentagon was a drastically different experience after 9/11. Heavily armed personnel with ready machine guns were now on guard. The subway that ran under the Pentagon could no longer be used. Parking was, and is, at a premium. Clark says, “Do not drive your car to work if you do not have an assigned space.” Ride sharing, vanpools and bus transportation are commonly used. After 9/11, Clark volunteered for service in Afghanistan. He was deferred because of his duty in the IG Dept. On Thursday April 28, 2005, Clark decided to send his retirement request through channels on the following Monday. However, on that day, his superior, a Colonel, called in the five Lt. Colonels reporting to him and said, “I must assign two of you to Iraq.” Clark volunteered to go. He had qualms but felt it was his duty. His concern was for his wife and those he would command. Clark did not want to have anyone harmed because of a decision made by him.
His experience at Fort Devers made it easier for him to deploy as Clark had been through the process so many times with others. Checking accounts changes, an updated will, power of attorney, updated security clearance, new ID card, immunizations, dental exam and physical examination – all this needed to be done quickly. Great support from Clark’s wife Ginny helped ease the process. Two weeks’ indoctrination at Fort Carson CO followed. He joined up with the others being deployed and left on a commercial charter flight from Fort Carson to Kuwait with some intermediate stops.
It was night and it was hot – 120 degrees – when he arrived in Kuwait. He boarded a bus with curtains covering the windows, headed for Camp Buehring, Kuwait for two weeks of training before moving forward into Iraq. Clark had been told he would be in combat but instead was assigned to “intelligence” work. He was sent to Doha to an “in transit” center – a large warehouse with cots – awaiting assignment. The facility left much to be desired. He could not shower for days and to wash clothes he had to use “boxes” of water located some distance away. Clark’s superior officer told him he would be going to Taji, Iraq as Commandant of Phoenix Academy. Clark was issued his desert combat uniform along with Kevlar helmet, IBS (interceptive body armor), and ammunition for his weapons.
The mission of Phoenix Academy is to train US soldiers to train, in turn, Iraqi soldiers to defend their country. This was part of our strategy for victory in Iraq. The Academy has space for about 380 trainees and is a self-contained base surrounded by Iraqis. The soldiers stationed at Phoenix Academy are aware of the danger but as soldiers, do not think about it much. They are focused on doing their job, knowing that by doing so they will help the total effort and get home sooner. Facilities were good, as there was water, plumbing and decent food. The students arrive by convoy or helicopter for two weeks of training. The program of instruction is primarily given by battle-hardened veterans. Cultural awareness is also taught. For example, seemingly harmless gestures can be misinterpreted and may be offensive to one of another culture. On the other hand, a common gesture we use may be meaningless or perhaps have an entirely different meaning to an Iraqi. Clark was impressed with the Iraqi Army personnel he worked with, finding them friendly, courteous and cooperative.
Security is an issue that Clark personally addressed by walking all the grounds and removing any abandoned buildings or impediments to a good field of view around the compound. The compound was previously used by Saddam Hussein’s Republican Guard with markings clearly visible and was located near the Sunni triangle – a dangerous place. The headquarters of Clark’s superior officer was in one of Saddam Hussein’s many beautiful palaces – in stark contrast to the poverty and poor living conditions seen near the palace.
On an occasion when Clark was on an investigative assignment, one of the vehicles in his convoy was struck by an IED (Improvised Explosive Device). There was a time of shock and concern until it was clear there were no casualties. The device was an artillery shell detonated from a distance away.
Clark indicates he was never afraid in Iraq although in danger. He feels the prayers of family and friends helped him to cope and feel secure that he would come home after his one-year service. Clark is home from Iraq now and he remembers the people he saw and with whom he interacted. He could come home but the Iraqi people must remain there. Clark believes our military will help make the profound changes in that country that are needed.
Clark was honored July 25, 2006, with the prestigious “Legion of Merit” by the Army for his distinguished service in Iraq as Commandant of the Phoenix Academy. On November 30, 2006, he and wife Ginny will retire to New Hampshire after his years of Army service.