The following is a 2007 letter to the editor of our local newspapers, by Park Ridge resident Joseph “Jay” Hirst.  It speaks volumes about the essence of military service that most of us never have experienced, but that we honor and celebrate today; and we thank the author for permission to republish it here. 

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As Veterans Day approaches each year, it typically causes me to pause and consider my service in the Army, particularly my time in Vietnam.  However, unlike previous Veterans Days, the approach of this date has caused me to spend significantly more time in contemplation than I normally have done in the past.   

Moreover, I know why.  For me, this Veterans Day represents a significant anniversary.   

On November 11, 1967, elements of my unit (including me), Company C of the 75^th Rangers, was sent into the highlands to be attached to and support the 173^rd Airborne Brigade in securing a hill not quite 3,000 feet high (875 meters).  What is so hard for me to believe sometimes is that what was barely-out-of-high-school back then is, for me, now 40 years ago.    

For those next 12 days, Hill 875 became a battleground unlike any other in Vietnam as the 66^th Regiment of the North Vietnamese Army – with its Chinese advisors – stood their ground and fought a battle of trenches and fortified bunkers more like World War I or II than Vietnam.  The network of tunnels used by the NVA throughout the area made any semblance of a “front” frustratingly fluid.

With the 2/503d Battalion of the 173^rd leading the way, we initiated the final push for the top of the hill on November 19^th.  Over the next 5 days the 173^rd lost 279 souls killed in action, suffered over 900 wounded, and reported 33 MIA’s.

Can you imagine the outcry and uproar if those casualty numbers were reported out of Iraq today?

On the morning of Thanksgiving Day 1967, “The Hill” was finally taken in a cold steady monsoonal downpour made worse by the devastated terrain, the despair over the losses experienced, and just pure exhaustion.  Thanksgiving dinner that last day was one of the most miserable meals I ever ate.  

I was alive, in large part because of the heroism of Carlos Lozada.  Carlos, despite being out-manned and out-flanked, was able to maintain a rate of machine gun fire that disrupted an attack of superior forces set to overrun our sector, enabling the rest of us to withdraw with five of our severely wounded.  The attack had broken off when “Moose” and I went back up the slope the last time, where we found Carlos mortally wounded.

Despite the medic’s best efforts, Carlos died before he could be medi-vac’ed. 

PFC Carlos Lozada was posthumously awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor for his actions that day, a richly deserved honor.  I wish I could say that I knew Carlos well and for a longer period, but in truth I knew him barely more than a week.  He came across as an ordinary kid from the Bronx who ultimately made a most extraordinary and selfless sacrifice.  And because of the extraordinary acts of this ordinary man, today – 40 years later – I still am able to say how proud I am to have even briefly served with him.

Forty years is a long time and the Vietnam of then is now a long way away.  Yet sometimes, when I close my eyes in quiet reflection, those events happened but a moment ago.

I think I am like most other veterans, with their own tales to tell and their own memories to share or keep to themselves as they choose. Like most other veterans, I must admit that some of those memories are painful, some humorous, some happy and others melancholy. That is why I personally think the Canadians calling their 11^th of November “A Day of Remembrance” is so appropriate.  

On the 11^th of this month, Veterans Day, if you are related to a veteran, know a veteran, or even see a veteran, please take a moment from your busy life and thank them for their service to our country.  Some of these veterans are still kids, freshly home from the Middle East, while others of us served a long time ago.  And a quickly diminishing few even longer ago.  They all richly deserve credit for what they did, are doing, and will continue to do so Americans like you and I – our children and grandchildren – can have the opportunity to do what we do and be what we are.

However, if you do not happen to know or see a “Vet”, I offer an alternative – pause for a moment to reflect on PFC Carlos Lozada’s ultimate sacrifice for his unit and the “troopers” of a very proud Brigade.   

To all my fellow “Vets” – Thank you for your service and your personal investment in what makes this country so unique in this world. 

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