The Boys of Milo: Ted Godlove

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VGW Group, void where prohibited by law. 18-plus terms... And we return to our American stories. Up next, a story of a soldier who braved the jungles of Vietnam. From the wild pigs to the stench to what some might call a holy experience. Here to tell the story is Michael Williams, a listener of the show and the author of The Boys of Milo, which tells the stories of the men from his small town in Iowa who were drafted or chose to fight in the Vietnam War. Let's get into this story. Take it away, Michael.

I have seen something under the sun. The race is not to the swift, or the battle to the strong, nor does food come to the wise, or wealth to the brilliant, or favor to the learned. But time and chance happen to them all. Moreover, no man knows when his hour will come.

As fish are caught in a cruel net, or birds are taken in a snare, so men are trapped by evil times that fall unexpectedly upon them. I want to talk about Ted Godlove. Ted grew up in Milo, along with his older brother Edsel and younger brother Lee. His family lived on the far west end of Main Street. In all the years I knew Ted, I never once heard anyone call him by his first given name, Allen.

He had always been Ted Godlove to me. On August 26, 1968, just a few short months after he graduated from high school, five rough and ready guys from the area volunteered for induction in the United States Marine Corps all on the same day. All departed the tranquil surroundings of small town Iowa and embarked on a journey that took them first to Camp Pendleton for basic training. With basic training completed, additional orders followed and directed them to their next assignment.

All that is except Ted. He was the only one in his platoon that did not receive orders for his next assignment. His gunnery sergeant quickly realized the snafu and made an on-the-spot decision.

Sarcastically, he spouted, for the love of God, Godlove, you're going to recon. Members of recon units were comprised of the Corps' elite soldiers and were called upon to accomplish missions that ranged from point reconnaissance to direct action. On one of his missions early on during his time in Vietnam, Ted lay in the underbrush of the jungle with several others on his patrol waiting and watching VC movements. Suddenly, they heard voices and a group of about 20 Viet Cong appeared, perhaps 50 feet away, on the trail. Ted and his teammates remained motionless and let the Viet Cong pass and made note of the type of small arms they carried. Just a few minutes later, more voices followed. Again, the Marines remained quiet and held their breath without the slightest of movement.

This time, 60 North Vietnamese regulars in uniform paraded past them. They stopped and chattered among themselves. Ted not only heard the voices but was close enough to even smell the odor of marijuana that they smoked as they walked down the trail. Another noise ahead of them in the bushes aroused the Marines' senses. Ted pushed the selector switch on his M16 rifle with his right thumb from safety to full automatic ready for the assault. Then a squeal came from the bushes. A wild boar suddenly ran across the trail in front of the North Vietnamese regulars and they fired their AK-47s at the pig. The boar raced into the jungle directly toward Ted's patrol.

They held their fire knowing that they were vastly outnumbered. The pig raced right past Ted, only about 10 feet away, then abruptly swerved to the right. With the North Vietnamese regulars in hot pursuit, they fired away at the boar. They wanted fresh pork for dinner that evening. More shots were fired by the North Vietnamese than shouts of joy as they downed the wild boar. Ted quietly breathed a sigh of relief, pushed his selector switch back to the safety position. The North Vietnamese feasted that night on fresh pork. Ted and his patrol survived that potentially disastrous situation.

They slowly crawled further away from the trail, grateful that they were not discovered by the pig hunters. On September 19, 1969, Ted and seven others were inserted by helicopter into the jungle near Quang Nam on yet another recon mission. That afternoon, his buddy Frank Montez from Salinas, California, heard voices on the knoll ahead of them and smelled food cooking. Frank and Private Head moved closer to investigate. A lone VC spotted them and opened fire. Frank returned fire and killed the soldier. Two more VC appeared and retrieved the body and then the fight was on.

The eight Marines were soon surrounded by superior numbers. A firefight ensued and continued from late afternoon, about 4.30, into the early morning hours the next day, September 20th. Ted called in air support to beat back the Viet Cong. Bullets flew everywhere. Gunships fired from the sky, the Marines fired from the ground, and the VC fired back at both.

At four o'clock in the morning, the helicopter was able to get in and attempt to extricate the recon team. Private Head had been shot in the foot. Of the eight man team, Ted and Frank were the only two not hit by enemy fire. In the darkest of night, Ted turned on his flashlight and guided in the Huey.

His light drew immediate fire. Frank held Private Head's arm draped around his own neck as he, Ted, and Head scrambled to the landing zone. For support, Frank interlaced his other arm into the harness of Ted's tactical vest.

A single round hit Frank Montes and all three tumbled to the ground. Ted shouted out, Lord Jesus, don't let me die. Ted recalled a calm that overcame him. He later reflected on the moment. I don't know if it was 10 seconds or 10 minutes.

It was as if no time constraints existed. It seemed as though there was some kind of electrical field around me. A zapping noise pierced the air. Light flashing sensations surrounded me and I remember free falling through a golden tunnel.

It sounds crazy, but my life passed before me like a fast forward slideshow. Then I saw a figure in the distance. I couldn't see the face, but he spoke to me and said, You have to go back. Ted thought to himself, My God, was that Jesus? He thought to himself, Am I dead?

Flat on his back, Ted blinked his eyes as he looked up. He heard the heavy whoop, whoop, whoop noise cause trouble. He heard the heavy whoop, whoop, whoop noise caused from the chopper blades that pushed against the night air. He turned his head to the right and saw his buddy Frank Montes.

Half his face was gone. Ted grimly recalled Frank's hanging cheek tissue that flapped freely from the wind from the rotor whoosh of the chopper as it settled in. He jumped to his feet, grabbed Frank and threw him onto the floor of the helicopter, then went back and lifted private head into the chopper. The other five wounded grunts from his patrol hobbled to the LZ and held to help them on board as the Huey pulled pitched and DD mowed from the hellhole. As the Huey reached altitude, Ted glanced down at the area they had just left.

It was lit up like a Christmas tree on Times Square. The Air Force pound the area with napalm once they got word that the extrication had been complete. Ted thought to himself, kill them, kill them all. Five days later, Private Goldmeyer, part of the recon team, died from his wounds. Frank Montes also died in the early morning darkness.

Of the eight man team, two were killed, five other wounded. Ted exited the ordeal as the only person unscathed. The Marine Corps later posthumously awarded Frank Montes, the Silver Star, for his heroic actions on September 20, 1969.

Ted knew the true story, but never contested the Corps' honor to his friend Frank for the award. He knew who guided the Huey Inn and who carried the wounded aboard. And you're listening to Michael Williams, who listens to our show on WHO in Des Moines, one of our very first and earliest adopters.

We're proud to call WHO one of our early homes. You're listening to Michael Williams, who's the author of The Boys of Milo, telling the story of Ted Godlove. And what a thing to do. In August of 1968, when kids were doing what they were doing, protesting the war, burning their bras, running to Woodstock soon thereafter, he and his pals right after high school decide to volunteer for the U.S. Marine Corps. And for the war or against the war, whatever you thought about it, my goodness, what patriots.

When we come back, more of Ted Godlove's story here on Our American Stories. Watch. I just pop in a capsule, choose my strength, and... Wow. It's beginning to feel more seasonal in here already. If your holiday party doesn't have a bartender, then you become the bartender. Unless you've got a Bartesian, because Bartesian crafts every cocktail perfectly, in as little as 30 seconds. And I just got it for $50 off. Tis the season to be jollier.

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Check fast to shop Bose's holiday deals at Bose.com slash iHeart. And we return to our American stories and the final portion of our story on Ted Godlove. Telling the story is Michael Williams, the author of The Boys of Milo. When we last left off, Ted had just had an encounter with Jesus deep in the jungle on a recon mission. We told Ted that he had to go back.

Let's return to the story. After the mission to Kwan Naan, Ted felt a sense of ease come over him. Gone was the battlefield fear, the constant reminder that death walked beside them each moment in the jungle. That release of fear would serve him well into the future. He continued to have close calls and simply shrugged his shoulders. Twice he thought he had been hit by rifle fire, only to feel that his canteen attached to his web belt took the round. He felt the warm fluid running down his leg, but it wasn't blood, it was water from the canteen.

How lucky can a guy be, he thought to himself. What else would one expect from a Marine who had just met Jesus and was told, you must go back? In the fall of 69, he took time to relax and had a few beers at the Da Nang Recreation Compound. While engaged in a game of billiards, he looked up and lo and behold, in walked Larry Flynn, his high school classmate and comrade in arms who enlisted in the Marine Corps the same day as Ted. Larry just happened to be passing through Da Nang and knew Ted's unit, so he took a chance he might find him.

What a joyful rendezvous it proved to be. They played a few games of pool, reminisced of their innocent days back in Milo, and despite the fact that they were hardened combat veterans back at home in Iowa, they were not old enough to even legally purchase alcohol. Larry spoke out with the phrase, well Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, I mean Iowa. Here's to us, as they chugged a beer.

Ted chimed in, that's for sure Toto, we're not in Iowa anymore. Here's mud in your eye, and they tipped their warm cans of slits of beer and guzzled it down. They looked at each other with empty beer cans in hand and laughed out loud. Little did they realize the significant meaning of their toast. Here's mud in your eye. The origin behind that toast, for good health, can be traced to biblical times as noted in John 9.15. There Jesus healed a blind man when he rubbed his mud in his eyes.

I once was blind, but now I see. With that toast and God's blessings, Ted and Larry were in good hands. On April 18, 1970, I myself was home on leave back in Milo, fresh out of boot camp with the Air Force. That same day, halfway around the world, Ted was 12 days shy of his 20th birthday and conducted duties as a patrol leader of a six-person long-range reconnaissance team in the Thwong Duck area of Kwan Naam. While on patrol, his team encountered a numerically superior enemy force that approached his guys. He told his troops to hightail it to a suitable landing zone while he remained behind alone and delayed the advancement of the Viet Cong. As the enemy approached, Ted detonated four anti-personnel mines that killed four VC soldiers. He engaged the others with small-arm fires, then directed air strikes on the enemy soldiers.

Then directed air strikes on the enemy positions that aborted the attack. During yet another insertion into the jungle, Ted's recon team encountered enemy forces and needed an immediate extraction. He radiated for a helicopter to pull the six-man team out of harm's way. Within a short time, a chopper arrived, but with no clear landing zone, his team was extricated through the jungle forest with a stable harness.

The stable harness is a device that is a highly effective means of extricating or inserting soldiers when ground landings are impossible and allowing them hands-free capability to their weapons while hanging in the air. Ted and his team snapped their terra beaners into the line and began liftoff. They came under fire immediately as a UH-1H Iroquois pulled away. The rescue helicopter was hit by gunfire and began to lose altitude, with Ted and his crew dangling beneath. It became evident the chopper was going down.

The pilot fought to keep the battle damage Huey under control during the rapid descent. He guided it towards a nearby river, knowing that if it hit the trees, those hanging freely would be seriously injured if not killed. Ted hit the water and found himself and others being dragged down the river. Thoughts of drowning in Vietnam never entered Ted's mind until now, but it became an instant reality.

He tried to disconnect his tethered line, but his own weight and the force of Huey was too much to overcome. Suddenly, the chopper hit the water and flipped onto its side. Ted popped to the surface.

It was a hard landing and could have been much worse. Ted disconnected his car banger, made his way to the shoreline. Others followed. The helicopter crew bailed out and also made their way to the Marines. All, including the air crew, escaped without major injuries.

Within a minute, a second Huey hovered above them that observed the events prior to the crash. Hooray for the backup team, Ted talked to himself. Nobody said a word. They didn't need to. All rushed to the airworthy chopper, hopped on board, and ascended upward and into the heavens destined for friendlier territory. As the Huey reached altitude, Ted shook his head and tried to put the day into perspective.

He just couldn't. On November 10, 1970, Ted Godlove discharged from the Marine Corps, back where it all happened, at Camp Pendleton. To say he served his country honorably and with distinction would be a gross understatement. During his two years, two months, and 15 days of active duty with the Marine Corps, of which one year, seven months, and ten days were in Vietnam, Ted received the National Defense Service Medal, the Vietnam Service Medal with two devices, the U.S. Navy Commendation Medal with valor, the Vietnam Campaign Medal with device, the Republic of Vietnam Cross of Gallantry with palm and frame, the Bronze Star with valor, and the Combat Action Ribbon. What caught his attention when he first stepped foot in Vietnam was the oppressive heat and unbearable stench of open-air sewers and latrines. Reflecting back on the moment, he commented, That perhaps was the easiest thing to endure during my 19 months and 10 days in Vietnam, the horrific odor.

But like a terrible stink, the lousy smell of war stuck with Ted after his departure and lingered with him some 40-plus years into his future. He went to his family doctor, Dr. Adeline McCormick from Milo. Upon examination, she found a festering wound in his left leg. Ted could have gone to the VA hospital but thought it was no big deal.

What Dr. McCormick found shocked her. A fragmented piece of shrapnel had worked its way to the surface of his left leg. Ted recalled the incident in Vietnam but thought it was just a scrape, a superficial wound, nothing to worry about. He told me, I wish I'd kept that small piece of metal as a souvenir for my time in Vietnam. Instead, he tossed it away. Ted never reported that injury while in Vietnam. He said, I didn't want a Purple Heart.

Never bothered with the paperwork. That's just the kind of guy Ted was. The commonly used phrase, been there, done that, fits Ted perfectly. He added, I've got the t-shirt too. And a terrific job on the production, editing, and storytelling by our own Megan Pitcock, herself a Hillsdale student and a Hillsdale intern here at our show, and we put our interns to work.

I know you like hearing that. We also love hearing our own listeners tell stories about their own people, and in this case, it's Michael Williams from Des Moines, Iowa, and what a story Michael told about Ted Godlove. Boy, that meeting in Da Nang, what a source of relief to have a buddy just walk in while you're shooting pool, the buddy you enlisted with in Iowa, and to just clank the balls around, clank those beers, and then have to go back into it. Well, it gave him some hope, and then there were those words that he heard from Jesus, you must go back, and that released him from fear, and when soldiers are released from fear, they get to do their job best and have the least to worry about. Fear often kills soldiers. The story of Ted Godlove, here on Our American Stories.

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