The following, with some minor editing is the biography provided to
the Administrators of "FORUM" conference conducted in conjunction with
the web site originally sponsored by PBS (Public
Broadcasting System) in the wake of the Maya Lin TV special in NOV
'96. Hope it isn't too long, but felt a number of acronyms, normally
familiar to Americans, should be spelled out:
Bio: Gerald Alan Ney, b February 18, 1945 in Milwaukee, Wi., the first
of 2 boys & 2 girls; while father stationed at radar installation near
Victorville, Ca. in the Mojave Desert. Ancestry is German, Swiss,
English, French, Dutch & Scotch. 12 years of School Sisters of Notre
Dame in grade school & high school. Confirmation name: "George". Was
cub scout, boy scout, altar boy & newspaperboy (5 yrs., 10 mos.)
Played accordion 2nd thru 8th grades & French Horn in high school band
and university orchestra. Add in glasses, corduroy pants, love of
classical music, good grades, poor athlete, and being a "good kid"
during high school, I wasn't just a square, but a cube.
In November '62, Kennedy called up the Wisconsin National Guard
for the Berlin crisis. Fast approaching draft age, this was a wake up
call. By the time I entered the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee
[UWM], I figured we were going to get into a war someplace soon
(probably Germany and/or Cuba), and that it would be better to go in
as an officer than a private. When US Army ROTC (Reserve Officer
Training Corps) made its pitch to the freshman males, I signed up. At
the beginning of my junior year, I signed a contract, in exchange for
a stipend for books, by which Uncle Sam owned my bod. Dropping out of
school after that would have meant immediate induction into the Army
as a private.
Meanwhile joined Alpha Phi Omega National service Fraternity,
Newman Student Assoc. (Catholic students' group named after John Henry
Cardinal Newman of UK), International Club, Pershing Rifles (a
military fraternity fielding drill teams), Scabbard & Blade Honorary
Military Fraternity & Gamma Theta Upsilon Honorary Geography
Fraternity. Or as my dad put it: "Can the Vice-Chancellor spare 2
hours to cut the grass this Saturday?". Switched majors from
Meteorology to Geography after some disastrous encounters with
calculus.
Attended ROTC summer camp at Fort Riley, Ks. in JUL & AUG 1966.
A bit flabby and overweight, with a tendency to deliberately try and
see all angles in tactical situations that demanded quick decisions, I
came out 296th of 297. #297 was sent home. Graduated mainly on the
strength of taking whatever they dished out and coming back for more.
In April '67, if my memory serves me, was part of the honor guard
for the first UWM grad killed in Vietnam. Watching the young widow,
the 6 of us made a pact not to get married till after we went to
Vietnam. As far as I know all did so. In May '67, the presentation,
of the US flag to that same widow at the ROTC Chancellor's Review, was
used as the signal to start the first major antiwar demonstration at
UWM. As student election commissioner was one of about a dozen ROTC
cadets singled out to have daisies placed in their rifles. Unlike
later years' demonstrations there was no trouble.
Upon graduation with a BS in Geography, commissioned a 2Lt in
Army Military Intelligence 6/4/67. Active duty at Fort Benning, Ga.
11/26/67 for Infantry Officer's Basic ("to get an appreciation of the
problems of the infantry officer") followed 2/15/68 by Aerial
Surveillance Officer's Course at Fort Holabird in Baltimore, Md.
5 mos. later, after 30 days leave, arrived at Cam Ranh Bay in Vietnam
and assigned as OIC (officer in charge) of the aerial imagery section
of the 172nd MI (Military Intelligence) Co., 173rd airborne brigade at
LZ English, Binh Dinh Province, II Corps. Spent the next year in that
job, with trips to Saigon & Qui Nhon for training classes, and one to
Bao Lac on detached duty for 19 days in FEB '69.
Spent much of off-duty time on court-martial duty. Flew 39
hand-held photo missions, using an Asahi Pentax 35mm w/200mm lens in
anything available to fly. Fortunate to have only been shot at once
by the enemy on these versus twice by our own 105mm howitzers. Of
course there was the routine dozen nightly mortar shells for several
days at a stretch and the occasional perimeter probes. Still I didn't
have a bad year compared to many others.
After Vietnam, stationed at Fort Carson, Co. from AUG '69 to JUL
'71, working first in the same job, then as S-2 (Staff Intelligence
Officer) successively in an Infantry Battalion and a Field Artillery
Group, then as a supply officer. Met my wife through a folk Mass
group in Colorado Springs and got married 6 weeks before separating
from the service. Found the my Geography degree and experience as an
officer meant zero on the job market. Thanks to the supply officer
position, eventually landed a job with the Navy as an inventory
manager at the Aviation Supply Office (now renamed Navy Inventory
Control Point {NAVICP} - Philadelphia); which I've worked for since
OCT '72. All years since in Philly, except SEPT '77 to JUN '79 at NAS
(Naval Air Station) Alameda, Ca. as a field representative.
Married now 26 1/2 yrs., with 2 boys 25 & 24 and a girl 19. Have
been a lector in whatever parish I've been in since APR '68. Am a
Life member of my fraternity and belong to the local alumni assoc.
Have been a vice president of my Union local, and still hold 2
committee posts. Active in 2 neighborhood groups, and in Sierra Club.
Didn't become active in veterans' affairs till 1985. Wasn't
burying myself in the woodwork like many Vietnam Vets, but was just
bound up in keeping my family's heads above water. Currently and a
Life member of Vietnam Veterans of America (VVA), Assoc. of the 173rd
Airborne Brigade & Vietnam Helicopter CrewMembers of America (VHCMA).
Also a member of Catholic War Veterans (CWV). Past president of my
VVA & 173rd chapters, VVA state council delegate & chapter education
committee chairman (go into schools & teach on the war), 173rd Airborne
delegate to United Veterans Council [asst. chaplain], chaplain VVA Pa
State Council and VVA Liberty Bell Chapter 266.
The Leaf Rider 8/5/85
(after the manner of the Eorlingas)
Where now are chopper and rider?
Cartridge belt gold gleaming,
Sunshower spray glistening,
A circlet of rainbow
Below the blades sweeping;
Out over the wire leaping,
Like leaves before the tempest reeling,
The greening blades of the paddies mirroring,
Bathed in the tropic heat, yet
In their ruffled blue fields shivering;
With the winds of war forward,
And childhood past remembering,
Is gone, as fast as the wind furrows
In the green-blue carpet glistening,
At first burst banished by bullets and blood.
Whither the windhover,
Above tangled green gliding, soaring,
The riders' glance sees not seeing,
The hurricane, the land overturning,
Their metal steeds' clacking racket calling;
So on down to the great grass jumping,
To tree line on tree line charging,
And always some never more moving,
And some bodies for a time limping,
While many minds and hearts hurt worse than they;
Yet new faces old places ever filling,
Steady as the monsoon rain's drumming,
As regular as its arrival,
The long hot months into years fading,
Till they all were gone.
So say men over a shot and beer drinking,
No knights in armor shining,
Who once were lads in the summer grinning,
And did their job of fighting,
Someone else sometimes scathed becoming.
(a letter of submittal to the Atlantic Monthly - 9/9/85)
[returned w/pink slip saying it was not what they were looking for]
Dear Sirs:
The enclosed poem; while the first ever submitted for publication
by myself; is one of a number written at irregular intervals over 23
years. I believe it's one of the best. With much encouragement from
friends and coworkers, I decided to submit it.
Structurally, it's loosely modeled on the epic poetry J.R.R.
Tolkien wrote associated with the "Lord of the Rings" and the
"Silmarillion"; especially the story of Eorl the Young at the
battlefield of Celebrant: "Where now are the horse and rider?" This
is not a remembrance of past glories, however. A year in 'Nam (Jul
'68 - Jul '69); thoughts provoked by works such as the 'Battle of
Malden', "The Red Badge of Courage", "Fields of Fire" and "A Rumor of
War"; the vets I've met over 16 years; and events like the New York
"Welcome Home" Parade, all went into the long simmering mental stew.
And yes, line 1 stanza 4 is also an allusion to Hopkin's 'The
Windhover' in both possible meanings of the term besides referring to
a chopper.
"Why now after all these years?" A few chance words at a party
during conversation triggered the coming together of many strands. It
was ready then, not before. I can produce a serviceable report to
order, but something creative only when moved. After all these years,
can still vividly remember staring holes through the blackboard,
desperately trying to come up with a subject to write about, much less
plowing ahead laboriously to finish something/anything.
To get back, respectfully request your consideration of the
enclosed poem.
Oh yes, arrived in Binh Dinh Province, II Corps as a "leg" 2LT
assigned to the 172nd Military Intelligence Co., 173rd Airborne
Brigade (probably the lowest life form on the planet is a green
ROTC-produced 2LT working in the "contradiction in terms" who is a
non-paratrooper among horde of same going by the nickname "The Herd").
Except for seeing someone killed in front of me, everything else is as
remembered. My Benning classmates who were infantry saw enough of the
rest to overload hundreds of lives.
If there is any one theme, it is whom you send is not whom you
get back, even if they are alive.
Yours,
/s/ Gerald A. Ney
The Haunted Dream - 4/23/97 0200 hrs
[ Upon reading Internet posts triggered by the upcoming 22nd
anniversary in 2 days of the fall of Saigon & the RSVN ]
Silent wings through the night,
Stealing into our sleep with fright,
Freighted with terrible weight,
And memory of loss.
Bolt upright we awake.
The stuttering sounds inside still quake.
You hear the cries of those forsook,
And remember their loss.
Hands raised, arms outstretched.
You can't span time and space
To pull them up, take them in,
And their loss is your loss.
"A thousand tears falling",
So wrote Yung Krall.
Their flow pursues us still,
Till forgiveness for failure
Is allowed to fill the loss.
- Gerald Ney
In Memory of Skip 3/8/99
{after seeing "Saving Private Ryan"}
The specific scene that triggered the third poem is where a
much older Ryan visits the captain's grave and has an acute attack of
survivor's guilt.
You always seemed a little older,
And it wasn't the two years
Time you had on us.
A maturity perhaps found
In learning to be
A husband;
While we were still
Half in half out,
Hobbitlike tweens,
More carefree
Than we knew and
Not quite responsible;
For all life ahead
Was an unknown path
Into the Wild,
With dangers we thought
We knew something of,
From class and training,
Barely beyond Toy Soldiers
Mustering, but tasked
To lead real men
With very real lives,
Both sturdy and fragile
Before the human storm,
To beard Death
At his own hearth
And bring them back
In one piece
After duty was done...
"Objective Secure, Sir!"
So we slipped and slid
On the red clay mud,
Benning's best batch.
And the wait-a-minute
Vines held us fast.
Looked good on the map!
And you took the BS
And messing around
With our minds
With quiet good humor,
steady calm patience
Through it all.
Vietnam... In Country!
Fourteen months, or was it
A lifetime later.
Amidst eighteen laboring
Air conditioners inside
The Cam Ranh Bay O-Club.
Talked of my R and R
To be, and yours just past,
With the wife you loved,
And how the combat forced
Changes within yourself
Made necessary
Painful reintroduction
To whom you had become.
Hawaii would wait
Till you knew each other
Again. Then back it was
to jungle, NVA and battle.
I promised I'd write
On return from R and R,
and I actually did,
But never was there reply,
And in three months,
Came time to go home.
On the hot dusty runway,
With duffel and my thoughts,
Boarding beginning...
The company jeep comes,
Flying up to the plane.
A waved tan envelope
In the clerk's hand.
"We regret to inform you...",
Official notice inside.
And my letter unopened.
Dead already four days
After Cam Ranh Bay,
On Easter Sunday. Did I
Pray for you at Mass
in Bangkok's cathedral?
No memory, but suspect not;
Other things on my mind,
Not all of them holy.
A very sober homecoming
From the start, but you
Never had even that.
*******************
Find myself thinking
About you more often;
As I grow older.
Am double the age
I was then, and I wonder
Why you were the one
Taken, and the rest of us
Allowed to further continue
To make our marks in life.
As husbands and fathers,
Employers or employees,
As just human beings;
Have our acts and ommissions
Improved our world, justified
God's gift of time?
Have I lived my life
In a way that honors
Your life sacrifice?
God knows I'm not
What I was created
To be... At least, not yet!
So I bumble on,
An older dog still learning
To become truly human.
Rest easy, my friend.
We haven't taken ev'ry hill,
But haven't given up either.
GERALD ALAN NEY
172nd MI Co.
173rd Abn Bde (Sep)
7/13/68 - 7/12/69
In Memory of -
1LT Anderson Neely (Skip) Renshaw III
C/1/8, 1st Air Cav Div (Air Mobile)
b. 12/02/43 d. 04/13/69
Table of Contents
Poetry, Page One ]
Poetry, Page Two
Poetry, Page Three ]
Poetry, Page Four
Poetry, Page Five ]
Poetry, Page Six
Poetry, Page Seven ]
Poetry, Page Eight
Poetry, Page Nine ]
Poetry, Page Ten
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