North Attleborough Soldiers, Sailors and Marines Lost During the Vietnam War
Listed alphabetically
Lt. Robert J Gillespie Jr
By Ray King
For The Free Press
Once again I sort out the mess on the desk with all the emails, scribbled notes to myself that I can't
make head nor tails of, copies of old newspaper clippings, and try to put a record together that will
honor one of North Attleborough's fallen heroes.
We have freedoms in this country that we take for granted, but these freedoms came at a price.
They were not given freely. Many paid for our freedoms dearly, some with all their worldly
possessions and many with their lives. One who had his life taken while in the service of the Country
is Lt. Robert J. Gillespie from the Falls section of North Attleborough.
The story of 1st Lt. Robert J. Gillespie begins in New Bedford, just a little over a month after the
attack at Pearl Harbor. Mr. and Mrs. Robert Gillespie Sr. proudly announced the birth of their second
child, a son, born Jan. 12, 1942. The nation was in shock because of the attack, but the Gillespie
family was in a happy frame of mind as they now had two delightful children, a boy and a girl.
For a short time the family lived in Providence, but in 1948 the family moved to Stanley Street in
North Attleborough.
Robert attended the Towne Street School, which was located at the top of the hill on the right side of
Towne Street almost to the corner of Mt. Hope Street.
His big sister attended the Mt. Hope Street School across from the Mason Box Company next to the
round gas building. They both attended the Falls School after it was completed in 1949 and like all
the children of the time they made their way to school by walking. Probably they hiked down Jackson
Street, but I wonder if his sister cut across the two cemeteries, St. Mary’s and Mount Hope. That
could have been a daring shortcut to the Mt. Hope Street School for a young girl.
In 1951 a little sister arrived. It must have been a lively household as three kids on the loose can
make things very exciting at times!
Robert joined his big sister at North Attleborough High School in 1955, and now thanks to the
yearbook of the class of 1959 we learn a little about his character. He did not participate in sports;
instead, he leaned towards things of a scientific nature. He participated in the Camera Club, the
Science club, and the Audio- visual Club. He worked on the yearbooks for the four years that he
attended high school, as well as the senior plays. He also became involved in leadership courses for
four years as well as taking part in the future teachers program for three years. It seems that he
already was charting a course for his pursuit of a career in education. At the bottom of his picture in
the yearbook it states that he was easy going, he loved acting, he was going to be a history teacher,
and he loved to flirt with the girls.
I have spoken to several of his classmates and they all agree that he was a joy to be with...full of
fun. He was not one to be by himself; he wanted to participate in all the things that were going on.
One of his sisters said that he was a ham and loved the stage. It also came to light that as an adult
he raced motorcycles and cars and enjoyed speedboats and the sport of water-skiing. These are the
sort of activities that can give parents gray hair!
After graduating from North Attleborough High School he went to Brewster Academy in New
Hampshire for a year. He then enrolled in West Virginia Wesleyan College and graduated in 1964.
Later he attended graduate school at the State University of New York at Buffalo and graduated with
a Masters Degree in Education in 1966. Robert's goal all along was to be a teacher, and now he was
on his way. However, there was a problem. There was a war underway in a place called Vietnam,
and a lot of people were getting killed.
Robert Gillespie, being true to himself, volunteered to do his duty to the Nation as he saw it, joined
the Army Oct. 7, 1966. He completed basic and advanced individual training and graduated from
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Officer Candidate School at Fort Knox, Kentucky. Part of the training to be an Officer in the U.S.
Army was to become acquainted with the workings of a parachute. This part of the training took
place in Fort Brag, NC. He made the required five drops and was qualified. Then it was on to jungle
training, which was held in the Panama Canal Zone.
Robert was commissioned a Second Lieutenant, Armor, in the United States Army Reserves Aug. 1,
1967.
Before shipping out for Vietnam, he was granted a leave to go home. He had a fine time with his
Mustang visiting friends and family. His sisters did not have such a good time treating the chiggers
on his back that he had picked up in Panama. One of his sisters said that clear nail polish on the
wounds did the trick. Apparently the nail polish smothered the parasite. She made no mention as to
what happened to the skin around the bite.
All too quickly the good times came to an end. It was time to leave. The sisters and three of his
nieces escorted him to the airport. I'm sure there were tears and I would suspect that Lt. Gillespie
tried to assure them that all would be well, and he would be back in a year. Sadly, it was their last
farewell.
Lt. Gillespie was assigned to Headquarters Troop, 1st Squadron, 4th Cavalry, 1st Division in Vietnam
May 13, 1968. On July 15,1968 he was transferred to Troop "A" as a platoon leader. He was
promoted to First Lieutenant in the Army of the United States Aug. 1,1968. For someone that wanted
to be a teacher he now was a leader of men in combat and what men they were.
The U.S. Army Center of Military History interviewed the regiment's commander, Lt. Colonel William
C. Haponski, shortly before his retirement. He wrote, " The Cavalry men were easy going, if not
somewhat ragtag. Lawn chairs and colored beach umbrellas adorned their M-l 13 tracks, along with
rolls of concertina wire, boxes of .50 caliber ammo, and cases of "C" rations. Many of the tracks were
adorned with some risque artwork. They were tough; matter of fact, self- reliant, and would tolerate
no B.S. The men were loyal and they were fighters. I am proud to have been their commander."
Lt. Robert Gillespie was in good company.
When Lt. Gillespie was assigned to the 4th Cavalry in July, elements of the 4th Cavalry were
stationed at an air field known to the Americans as Phu Loi, which was located about 25 or so miles
to the north of Saigon in the province of Bien Hoa.
The Airfield had been built by American Prisoners of War during World War II, but had been
abandoned for many years. As the struggle in Vietnam escalated in the early '60s the airfield was
refurbished and put into operation. The base was occupied by elements of the 1st Infantry Division
and the aviation units were used to support the infantry units that were in the field. The enemy
dearly wanted to destroy the base as the gun ships stationed there were causing havoc to their
forces so they launched many attacks on the base.
It didn't take the Americans long to realize that their enemy used the jungle as cover in order to get
in close to attack the base parameter. The solution was simple in the opinion of the "Brass".....
remove the jungle. Easier said than done! The 50 ton, 750 H.P. M-48 tanks were getting stuck in the
mud and vegetation! The 12 ton M-l 13 personal carriers were no match for the task. What
developed was a machine known to the troops as a "Rome Plow." It was a D7E bulldozer with a twoton special blade. The things had been used in the American west to clear fire breaks. With proper
equipment to protect the operator the machines would weigh in at about 20 tons and the things
could clear jungle by the acre! Army engineer units were fond of them and the jungle around the
base parameter was cleared at the rate of three to five acres a day.
As the Vietcong took exception to this it fell to the 4th Cavalry to protect the "Rome Plows" and their
operators. That's when things got "dicey."
While the Americans with the aid of the "Rome Plows" were finding and destroying weapons caches,
tunnels, and assorted firing pits, the Vietnam forces were busy laying anti-tank mines. The heavy M48 tanks were being crippled or blown apart and in some cases with complete loss of crews. The
lightly armored M-l 13 personnel carrier was especially vulnerable and the "Plow" operators were at
even greater risk as their protection was lacking in many regards. Casualties were high.
So it came about that on a Sunday, Aug. 5, 1968, that promised to be another blazing hot day "A"
troop of the 1st Squadron, 4th Cavalry was assigned the duty of providing cover for the operators of
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the "Rome plows" as they cleared away the jungle. For reasons that are lost to us a small group of
men from the Troop became isolated and found themselves underfire from a Vet Cong force. Lt.
Gillespie led the rest of the platoon to the relief of the pinned down group. In the action the
personnel carrier that he was in struck an anti- tank mine and was destroyed.
Gillespie and others were badly wounded. Some of the crew were killed.
Gillespie passed away six days later, Aug. 11, 1968 and he joined that sorrowful steady stream of
the dead from Vietnam to their homes and their families.
At some point in time two Army Chaplains arrived at the Gillespie residence on Stanley St. and the
family was informed of the awful news.
The word spread quickly and the Town came to grips with yet another young person being killed in a
very unpopular war. This was the third young man from Town to perish in a war that was tearing the
Country apart.
When the remains of Lt. Gillespie arrived in Oakland, California a U.S. Navy Lieutenant was assigned
as an escort for the long flight home. The trip ended at Logan airport in Boston and then on to the
Sperry-Deblois funeral home on Grove St. in North Attleborough.
1st. Lt. Robert J. Gillespie was laid to rest with full military honors on the afternoon of August 24th, a
Saturday. The funeral ceremonies were held at the Central Congregational Church in the Falls section
of North Attleboro, which was not too far from his childhood home on Stanley Street. The service
was conducted by the Reverend Norman A. Levinson, Pastor; assisted by the Reverend Camillus
Earth, CP, and the Reverend Robert C. Ryder. The soloist was Mr. Gilbert Patten from Attleboro.
Rituals were carried out Friday evening by the Order of the Demolay and the Lefebvre Post of the
V.F.W. The Pallbearers included members of the 82nd Airborne Division from Fort Bragg. Members of
Fifth Artillery Regiment provided the color guard, and the 632nd Quartermaster Company furnished
the firing squad.
Members of the fire and the police departments lined both sides of the Elm and Mount Hope Streets
on the way to the Mount Hope cemetery.
The loyal Navy lieutenant that had escorted Gillespie from the West Coast and had stood as the
coffin guard in the difficult hours of the wake presented the American flag that had been draped over
the coffin to Gillespie's mother.
In one of those strange twists of fate, the pallbearers from the 82nd Airborne were members of the
platoon that Lt. Gillespie was in command of when he was stationed at Fort Bragg in early May. They
remembered him well.
On Nov. 11, 1971, a parade ground at Fort Knox, Kentucky was designated as the Gillespie parade
Area in honor of 1st Lt. Robert J. Gillespie.
Lt. Gillespie's decorations and awards included: the Silver Star, Bronze Star, and the Purple Heart all
awarded posthumously. His campaign awards were the National Defense Ribbon and the Vietnam
Campaign Ribbon.
A memorial fund was established, by the family, neighbors and the Lieutenant's friends and on May
18,1974 a monument was unveiled to the memory of Lt. Robert J. Gillespie at the front entrance to
NAHS.
It consists of two tall flagpoles as well as a large bronze tablet with the inscription:
Dedicated to the memory of 1st. Lt. Robert J. Gillespie, Jr.
U.S. Army 12 Jan 1942 - 11 Aug 1968
Class of 1959 He gave his today for our tomorrows.
"Poor is the nation that has no heroes. Shameful is the one that having them, forgets."
- General Robert E. Lee C.S.A.
SOURCES to thank:
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The curator, Nancy Campbell, of the North Attleborough Falls Fire Barn Museum for her help in going
through the North Attleborough High School yearbooks.
To the shared memories of Kevin Poirier and Bob Vallette, both classmates of Lt. Gillespie from the
1959 class of North Attleborough High School.
For the shared memories from the loyal U.S. Naval Officer who wishes to be anonymous.
For the help from the staff of the Richard's Memorial Library in sorting out all the microfilms in my
search for the events of August 1968.
The web site of 4th Cavalry, 1st Infantry Division.
The Duty Officer's after action report for the events of August 11, 1968 pages 1 through 5 as
submitted by 1st Lt. Ronald D. Jones U.S. Army.
To Lt.Gillespie's two sisters, Mrs. Joan Lindstrom and Mrs. Lyn Ehley, whose help was instrumental in
the project's completion and success.
Finally to the mother of Lt. Gillespie, Mrs. Lois O. Gillespie, who sent her memories in a number of
letters and notes about her only son. This project would not have gone forward without her approval.
Ray King, a North Attleborough resident, is a veteran of the Korean War and historian of local war
veterans.
From http://www.wickedlocal.com/northattleborough/topstories/x684373147/Gillespie-was-one-oftown-s-true-heroes?zc_p=0#axzz1oc38qEow
Richard Norman Pinsonnault
Letter about Doc
One of my friends from the Marine Corps, Mike Newton, contacted me recently about a fellow we
both knew in Vietnam. He was a Navy Hospital Corpsman named Richard "Doc" Pinsonnault and a
good guy who didn't make it back from Vietnam.
A Hospital Corpsman or just Corpsman is the Army's version of a Medic. He's the guy who ranges
around a battlefield finding wounded men and trying to save their lives. All a Corpsman carries for
protection is a .45 caliber pistol and very rarely does he use it because he is too involved in treating
stricken Marines. It's hard to imagine the courage it takes to go forward in a hostile environment,
with bullets flying all over the place and mortars landing near you to save a buddy. "Doc" was that
kind of guy and he did it many times.
Mike had been contacted by a fellow name Ray King who was from "Doc's" home town of North
Attleboro, Massachusetts and had grown curious about a World War I monument located in front of
St. Mary's Catholic Church. Ray noted the thirteen names and asked around to see if anyone knew
who they were. No one did. At that moment Ray, a "mill right" in a local factory who says he is "not
a writer", started his quest. After a year he finished his research on who the men were and how they
died and arranged with The Free Press, the local paper, to publish the stories. In a letter from Ray he
said, "I feel it's a terrible sin to have perished in the service of the country and to be forgotten".
As the stories were published there was a favorable response from the townsfolk and Ray continued
his journey through World War II, Korea and then finally reached Vietnam and Hospital Corpsman
Third Class Richard Pinsonnault. Apparently Doc's parents are gone but through the internet and
some dogged searching Ray King found my friend Mike Newton. Mike came off the chopper on Hill
689 the night of June 6, 1968 was wounded, treated by Doc Pinsonnault and med-evaced shortly
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after. He wasn't with us the night Doc was killed but he knew I was so now it's my job to remember
Doc's sacrifices and make sure he is nover forgotten.
Attached is the letter I sent to Ray King. It and other remembrances of Doc will be published in the
North Attleboro Free Press on Veteran's Day 2011.
Dear Ray,
I am Will Lomen and I was with Doc Pinsonnault when he died on Hill 689 July 7, 1968. My great
friend Mike Newton forwarded your email to me and asked me to write something for you about Doc.
That was a couple of months ago and every time I tried to get started on my reply for some reason I
had to stop. My brother Terry, who was also a Marine, was killed in Vietnam close to a year later in
June of 1969 and his loss is something I deal with every day of my life. He and three of his best
friends joined the Marine Corps because I did and they all made it back and in one piece except
Terry. I have sworn I will finish this letter to honor the courage, steadfastness to duty and expertise
that Doc exhibited in the field and under fire on many occasions.
I wasn't assigned to Charlie Company's 2nd Platoon until sometime in April of 1968 so I didn't know
Doc as well as Mike and the other Marines on Hill 881 South. My memories of him were of a guy who
was cocky but professional with his duties. To be a corpsman you had to be supremely confident in
your abilities and able to handle the inevitable sarcastic banter lobbed at you daily by equally cocky
but respectful Marines. We all knew that it took a special kind of man to range about a battlefield
packing only a medical kit and a .45 caliber pistol that most likely would never be fired.
The night of July 6, 1968 Charlie Company of the First Battalion, First Marine Regiment was
choppered onto Hill 689 in support of Delta Company who, the night before, had been hit by a
fusillade of mortars followed by a suicide ground attack. They were in dire straits and undermanned
but they couldn't be pushed off that hill. As soon as we landed we were hit by another mortar
barrage resulting in two of my friends, Mike Newton and John Keeling being wounded. Mike with
wounds to an arm and both legs; John hit in the face with shrapnel that miraculously curved down
his forehead and over his nose, missing both eyes. Doc treated them both, and then in the dead of
night and under fire our chopper returned, backed up to the hill, lowered the ramp and rescued all of
our wounded.
That night we were re-enforced by Alpha Company then the next day Charlie Company was given the
mission of retrieving marines from Delta Company who had been killed outside the perimeter the day
before. Shortly after we went through the barbed wire to search for our comrades we were again hit
by mortars and a lethal sniper whom we could not pinpoint. When our progress stalled we were
ordered to pull back and once again Doc came to the front and treated his troops; specifically Waco
Stroud and Sergeant Rowe both of whom died, but not because of Doc's actions. I watched him
comfort them in their final moments.
After we returned to the top of the hill and were inside our lines again Doc treated more wounded
men; specifically our company commander Captain Trautwein and two other Marines, Pat Caldwell
and a fellow named Riley. I can't remember the other names. Once again the gutsy Marine pilots
brought their CH-46 Sea Knight helicopters back to the hill and, in the face of nagging mortar attacks
that were targeting our landing zone, recovered our casualties.
Suddenly as a former fire team leader I was informed that I was now the commander of second
platoon and as darkness fell we came under attack again. Before I could ponder my new
responsibilities the new company commander, Lieutenant Perry, ordered our platoon to a position on
the west side of the hill. With my radio man Lance Corporal John Antonace and platoon corpsman
Richard Pinsonnault following in my footsteps, I lead our small group of Marines out onto a small
finger of land and dove into a trench. We tried to make out attacking soldiers in the dark on the
other side of the barbed wire but couldn't see anything; our platoon laid down a wall of M-16 rounds
anyway.
In the confusion of the moment we assumed another platoon from Charlie Company was to our left
with Alpha Company to our right but we were wrong. For some reason I looked to my left and saw a
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group of men standing on a bunker and firing back inside our lines. They were shouting "We
friendlies, we friendlies", but it was in a foreign accent. Before we had time to react two explosions
detonated directly behind me, something lit up the area and Antonace landed on top of me, driving
me into the bottom of the trench. The explosions turned out to be enemy hand grenades and the
bright light was an illumination round that was strapped to the side of Antonace's radio. The
illumination round was triggered by the exploding hand grenades and it fluttered into the air, landed
on the side of the trench and rolled underneath me. Thinking it was some kind of time bomb I
dragged myself out from underneath Antonace and dove out of the trench, falling into a bomb crater.
Not sure what was happening, my platoon regrouped and confirmed that somehow enemy troops
were to our left and were attacking our position. We fired back, inside our lines, and eventually took
out the men on the bunker. We killed most of them with their wounded succumbing to their wounds
the next day. Still not sure about the security of our position we rushed back to the trench to find
Antonace and Doc. They were gone. Doc had taken the force of the two exploding hand grenades to
his front and John was killed when the igniting illumination round hit him in the side of the head as it
detonated.
I am sorry to hear that Doc's parents aren't alive to remember him but maybe you have made
contact with the cousin and he will carry on the memories. The important thing is that you are doing
what you have set out to do. It is a noble effort and you represent a chosen group who has selflessly
taken on the task of making sure nobody forgets the ones who have paid the ultimate price for their
country. You say you are not a writer but you are wrong. A writer is someone who sets a goal to tell
a story and gets it done. There are a lot of people who may have better writing skills and know how
to use fancy words and have big dreams about writing a story but never quite get around to it.
That's what separates the talkers from the doers, like you. Congratulations on the dream you have
chosen and good luck on your quest.
Semper Fi, Will Lomen
From http://tellthemwillieboyishere.blogspot.com/2010/09/letter-about-doc.html
Gunnery Sergeant Paul Edward Robitaille
By 1968 the war in Vietnam had escalated and had also divided America. On February 26, 1968 the
Defense Department announced the death of Gunnery Sergeant Paul E. Robitaille in the Province of
Quang Tri in Vietnam. He was killed February 23rd. North Attleboro was united in grief. The war had
come home to North Attleboro.
Paul Robitaille was born in Attleboro June 30, 1935 in the midst of this country’s worst economic
slump. As I was born in the same era I feel that I am able to describe in a small way what he
experienced as a child. We were all poor only we didn’t know it. After all didn’t all Mothers mend
worn socks, sew on lost buttons, repair torn clothing and use everything up until there wasn’t
anything left? Hand me downs were a fact of life. Not much was thrown out as I recall.
Attempting to paint a more detailed picture of Paul’s childhood has proved to be difficult. The passing
years have dulled the memories of many, but what has been said is that Paul was special. Several of
his pals said he was a gifted leader and enjoyed participating in a pick up game of baseball or
football in any empty lot. These games were of the sandlot variety where the games started with no
rules, but could be made up as needed. No adults necessary.
His Dad was a bus driver for the Interstate Bus Company and he was able to secure occasional work
for his son in the bus yard on North Ave. in Attleboro. The job was to clean the buses after they were
put up for the night. His Dad was in the habit of “forgetting” to charge any serviceman that wanted a
ride on his bus provided he was in uniform. I believe I may have been a recipient of Mr. Robitaille’s
policy the day I came home from the service in 1953. As we progress in this story we shall see that
Paul and his Dad were alike in many ways.
North Attleboro Casualties of Vietnam War.docx, Page 6 of 12
During his high school years Paul worked at Liggett’s drug store on the corner of North Washington
Street and Orne Street. Mr. Edgar McGowan managed it at the time. His job was to stock the
shelves, empty the trash, and keep the place clean. I was told by his pal, Jeff Morairty, that he was
a hard worker and very personable.
Paul grew up with his three brothers; George, Dean, and David on East Street in North Attleboro in a
neighborhood of hard working people. His brother George served in Korea and his brother Dean
served in the Navy. So it’s safe to say with this background Paul Robitaille had a firm appreciation of
family, work, education, and patriotism. These were all attributes that made him the man that he
became years later.
After attending grade school at St. Mary’s parochial school, he attended North Attleboro High School
in 1949 and graduated in the class of 1953. The class yearbook lists his activities as one year of
baseball, two years of intramural basketball, Band for three years, Spring Concert for three years,
and YearBook advertising for three years. He was a busy student.
At the time Sayles Dairy was operating an ice cream and sandwich stand that was across the street
from the North Attleboro High School, which at that time was located on South Washington Street. It
was a popular place for the young to frequent and maybe tease the girls a little. Just maybe Paul
made the “scene” when he had some spare time.
1953 was a busy year for Paul .He met a little gal in High School that he took a shine to, graduated
from High School, and joined the Navy.
Other than the fact that Paul joined the Naval Reserve in the Fall of 1952 there is little that comes to
light about his early years in the military. However, there is one important event that did come to
my attention. Paul and that little gal that he took a shine to in High School were married in St.
Mary’s Catholic Church in North Attleboro. The date was November 8, 1957 and the bride was Joan
Howard of 98 Grove Street. At the time, she was employed by the Foxboro Company. As she was
now a military wife and I would suspect she left the company sometime shortly after the marriage.
No records were available to me about the first tour in Vietnam. Events did become somewhat
clearer around the year 1962. At that time he is stationed at the Marine air station at Kaneohe on
the island of Oahu and Joan and their first son, Mark, were with him. He has also met some pals
from North Attleboro. His brother- in- law, Richard Howard, was serving in the Army and was
stationed with the 25th Infantry Division at the Schofield barracks. Another pal from town was Jon
Wood who was serving with USARHAW HQ also at Schofield. The three would get together from time
to time. I was told that the game of golf was a favorite past time. The degree of skill was not
mentioned.
At one point in time Paul was deployed to an unknown post. Joan had no idea where he was and was
quite upset by the unexplained absence of her husband. Years later it was learned that Paul was
assigned to a school that specialized in guerilla warfare. The location of the school was never
learned, but there was some speculation that it was in Vietnam, which may explain the lack of
information about the first tour. American involvement in Vietnam in the early sixties was a very
clandestine affair so there might have been something to the speculation.
After their time in Hawaii they were assigned to a base in California where their second son, Glenn,
was born. Then came his first full tour to Vietnam where he was nearly killed by a member of the
Viet Cong who was armed with a crossbow of all things.
In the late sixties Paul and family finally got back to the East Coast. He reported to the Portsmouth
Navy base in New Hampshire. His duties were to the Brig detail as the senior enlisted man and he
reported to Col. Trevino, who was the Marine Commanding Officer at the Navy base. Now anyone
who has been in the military recognizes this as good duty. After all the family is with you, the
housing is mostly good, the hours aren’t all that bad, you are close to home, and best of all no one is
shooting at you! To top it all off Paul is promoted to Gunnery Sergeant (E-7), but as we all know
good deals don’t last very long, especially in the military. The tour is short and the next tour is back
North Attleboro Casualties of Vietnam War.docx, Page 7 of 12
to Vietnam. As he had already pulled duty in Vietnam he didn’t have to go, but he felt as a career
Marine with 14 years in the Corps that it was his duty. This would be in January of 1968. Joan and
the four boys Mark, Glenn, Scott and new born baby Michael relocated to Reed Street in North
Attleboro.
The family put on a going away party for him. He was most appreciative and commented that he had
been many places and this was the first going away party that he was given. On the day that Joan
brought him to the airport the baby, Michael, was dropped off with Rich Howard’s wife. Joan said
that before he got on the plane he told her to take good care of the kids. “I’m not as fast as I use to
be…I might not be back”.
It’s been more than forty years since Gy. Sgt. Robitaille lost his life in Vietnam and trying to put
together the story of his life in the Marines has been difficult. All those that he served with are
scattered all over the Country, but some were located. Thanks to the data on the Vietnam Wall in
Washington D.C. I was able to get in contact with a few and they shared their memories… some
funny some sad.
I believe that it’s proper at this juncture that some of the memories should be included in this story.
There are many to pick from and they all say the same thing. Gy. Sgt. Paul E. Robitaille was a fair
leader of the men he was in charge of and that he had a strong sense of duty to his country, friends
and family. He had a strong love for his wife and the boys. He was a man that anyone would want
as a friend.
The task now is to try and select a few that would reflect the nature of the times.
This story is somewhat at odds with the main story, but it has its place in that it reflects the
comradeship of those far away from home.
Joan and Paul had been stationed for some time in Hawaii when they learned that Joan’s brother was
due in and they were looking forward to his arrival. Later Jon Wood flew in. Now there were four
folks in “town” as it were. Joan felt that a get together would be in order and she put together a
spaghetti supper with all the fixings so that everybody could catch up with what was going on with
family, friends, and North Attleboro. All went well until Jon became ill. The next day Jon was
admitted to Tripler Army Hospital as he had come down with pneumonia and he was hospitalized for
quite some time. Jon trying to put a little humor in the event said that it was Joan’s cooking that did
him in. That was kicked around a little, but it didn’t faze Joan one bit. In time Jon became the brunt
of his own joke and the supposedly poor cooking became something of a private joke among the four
folks from North Attleboro.
Another tale is about a jeep accident apparently in Vietnam. The man that tells the tale is from
Colorado and was the driver for Sgt. Robitaille. He said that they were on a narrow dirt lane and he
went off the trail and into a swampy ditch. No one was hurt, but the two Marines were very wet and
very much muddied up. The jeep on the other hand did not do well and was in need of a tow out of
the swamp and assorted repairs. Gy. Sgt. Robitaille told the driver not to worry he would deal with
things. The jeep was hauled off and a lot of paper work was generated to the reasons why, who, and
how this piece of government property became damaged. The driver went on to say that he thought
he would lose his stripes, but he didn’t. It would seem that Gy. Sgt. Robitaille was dealing with
things. He also commented that it was his first accident in Vietnam, which makes me wonder just
how many accidents that he did have.
The third story is a powerful one, and I’ll repeat it as written. The name of the writer is known to me
as “Rem”. His location is unknown, and he is a retired Marine Gunnery Sergeant.
Rem’s note starts off by saying, “Gy.Sgt. Robitaille arrived at Khe Sanh and had no place to stay or a
bunker to get shelter from the incoming rounds. I told him that he could stay in my bunker and he
stayed for a day or two as he was waiting for a chopper to take him to the hills.
Paul was grateful and he stayed in our bunker until he left Khe Sanh .That evening we talked about
the Corps and our families. Paul couldn’t stop talking about how wonderful his family was and he
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loved his wife so much. I asked him why he had come back to Vietnam and he said it was his duty.
We talked about everything. We were both stationed in Hawaii and we talked about old times.
I can tell you this; he was a damn good Marine.
I had a little fighting hole next to my bunker. I dug this next to my bunker in case we had aircraft
coming across the DMZ. We had gotten reports of Migs in the area. Paul asked if two could fit into
that hole and I said yes, you want to try it? Well if you ever saw sardines in a can, that’s what we
looked like. It took ten minutes to get out of the hole. We laughed so damn hard. I would have
loved to have filmed it. We talked all night and Paul left the next day. Wonderful man and a
dedicated man. Everyone in his family should be very proud of him.
Semper Fi……
Rem.
February found Joan in Portsmouth, New Hampshire visiting old friends from her stay during Paul’s
duty at the Portsmouth Naval base the previous rotation. As she tells the event, she saw on the T.V.
a report that two Marines had been killed in the fighting at Khe Sanh. The report went on to say that
they were both Gunnery Sergeants. She knew in her heart that one of them was her husband as
there weren’t that many “Gunny” Sergeants. Her friends tried to tell her differently, but she said
that she knew it was Paul. On her way back to North Attleboro she saw a copy of the “Boston
Herald” with the report of casualties, and Paul’s name was in it.
What she didn’t know at the time was that her husband had become friends with another “Gunny”.
He was Gy. Sgt. Eugene Charles Wire and he was also on hill 881-S at the time of an intense mortar
and artillery bombardment by the Vietnam forces. Both took shelter in a bunker, which was struck by
an enemy shell killing them both. Both Paul and his friend had some similarities. Both were career
Marines. Paul had 14 years in the Marines. “Gunny”Sgt. Eugene C. Wire was also a career Marine
with 18 years. Both were “Gunny” Sergeants. Both were married, both had children, both were
Catholics, and both were born in June. Paul was 35 years of age and Eugene was 37. Gy. Sgt. Wire is
at rest in the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific in Honolulu, Hawaii, which is close to the city
of Waipaha his birthplace. Their last moments were together and they are at rest.
The remains of Gy. Sgt. Paul E. Robitaille arrived home March 16,1968. The Diamond Funeral
Home, which is located not very far from the Robitaille family homestead, made the arrangements.
Joan said to me that the support from the Marine Corps was superb. There was only one hitch and
that was when she requested that the Marine Commander at the Navy base be the escort. The
Sergeant in charge said that it wasn’t possible, as Officers do not act as escorts for Sergeants. She
gave him the telephone number and the only part of the conversation that she was able to hear was
the Sergeant saying “yes sir” a number of times. At the funeral Col. Rudolph L.Trevino was the
escort with a busload of Marines from the Navy base in New Hampshire. The Mass was held at St.
Mary’s Church and was conducted by Reverend Armando Annunziato .I have it to understand that
the North End Social Club shut down for the day as Paul was in the habit of meeting with his pals
there when he was in town. Town government was shut down, all flags were at halfstaff, and all the
stores closed as the procession made its way down North Washington Street on its sad journey to St.
Mary’s Cemetery.
Semper Fidelis
Sgt. Albert A. St. Lawrence U.S.M.C.
The month of June in the year 1970 was in many ways like any month of June in any year. The
change of the seasons promised the fullness of the summer to come. The harshness of the winter
months had past. Spring was the time of promise. Even the war in Vietnam seemed to be subsiding;
at least the casualty rate had decreased. Events were improving or so it seemed, but on a day in the
early part of June 1970 all the good hopes and plans came to a horrifying end for the St. Lawrence
family. Two Marines presented themselves at the homestead of the St. Lawrence family on
Elmwood Street with the terrible news that the Son that was serving in Vietnam with the Marines had
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been killed in the Province of Quang Nam. Every June 8th henceforth would bring sad memories. All
the things that could have been would never be.
Albert Alfred St. Lawrence was the third child born to Joseph and Olive St. Lawrence. There are three
siblings. The oldest is his sister Joanne (St. Lawrence) Dion. The two brothers are John, the oldest of
the boys, and Walter, the youngest. Little has come to my attention about the childhood of the St.
Lawrence children. It’s safe to say that they all went through the local school system and more than
likely spent some time at Jolly Cholly’s on the by- pass with their pals. What is certain is that at the
age of 26 Albert thought he would join the Marines. He made his way to Boston June 28, 1967 and
signed up. One day later he was at Parris Island in South Carolina and early the next morning
training started. Going slowly apparently is not in the Marine vocabulary!
The first step in becoming a U.S. Marine was the Marine Corps Recruit Depot at Parris Island in South
Carolina. At Parris Island the task was to turn a civilian into a Marine who would be committed to
the core values of service to the Country. This was not an easy chore, and some failed to meet the
standards of excellence that was demanded. “Boot” camp was normally a 13-week program, but due
to the war in Vietnam the program was abbreviated to 11- weeks. None the less “Boot” camp was
able to train all that showed promise in the requirements of the Marine Corps.
After graduation Pfc. Albert St. Lawrence more than likely went on leave and then reported to Camp
Geiger, which is located in Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. Here he received 60 days of advanced
infantry training. The records show that in the whole training cycle Albert St.Lawrence received high
grades, but soon all the training was over.
December 6th 1967 he was deployed to Vietnam and was assigned to “K” Company, 3rd Battalion. 9 th
Marines, 3rd Marine Division. This tour would be his first. During this tour of duty the Division
engaged the Viet Cong in the vicinity of Dong Ha as well as in operations Lancaster. The time frame
would be from December 6th, 1967 until December 3rd, 1968. By the first of the year 1969 he had
completed the tour and was rotated stateside. January 5 th, 1969 finds him back in Cherry Point
North Carolina, again undergoing more training. During this entire period in Vietnam his M.O.S.
(Military Occupation Specialty) was listed as 0331 which is that of a rifleman. However, while
stationed at Cherry Point he was enrolled in a training class for M.P. guards, which has the M.O.S.
8151. Once more his scores are very high. What prompted his decision to be an M.P. is lost to us,
but I would speculate getting shot at in Vietnam might have had some influence.
After the M.P. training he was assigned to a military base in Oahu, Hawaii as a guard. The policy in
the Marines at that time was after one tour in Vietnam you would be rotated to the States. As
anyone in the service knows guard duty can be a very dull affair, sort of like watching grass grow.
That may have been the motivation for him to wave that right and request duty in Vietnam.
Whatever his reasons it was a short tour in the island paradise of Hawaii. His tour in Hawaii started
in April 1969 and he left that station in July 1969.
Once more he was on a flight to Kadena Air Base in Okinawa. There would be a short stop over for
any needed shots and assignment to a staging company to wait for the next flight. It would be a
two-hour flight back to Da Nang Vietnam. The Marine replacements have left a safe area of
everyday living and now they are landing in a war zone. According to Mr. Lou Caruso, who served
with a line company in late 1969 and later as a founding member of the 3/5 C.U.P.P. Platoon, it
would not be unusual to land in Da Nang in the midst of a mortar attack by the enemy. If that were
the case it would be a mad dash to a bunker from the aircraft. If there were no incoming rounds the
replacements would be sent to a staging area to be outfitted with the needed gear. Here they would
be outfitted with camouflage uniform, jungle boots, helmet and flak jacket, but no weapon. Next
stop would be assignment to a unit. In the case of Sgt. Albert A. St. Lawrence it was to hill 65, H&S
Company, 3rd Battalion, 5th Marine, 1st Marine Division. The starting date for his second tour was
September 18, 1969
At that time the 3rd Battalion of the 5th Marines was ordered to put together a new program, which
was known as C.U.P.P, and that stands for Combined Unit of Pacification Program. This was not a
new program as it had been in use by the 7 th Marines as a company size effort. In the case of the
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3rd. Battalion it was to be a three squad affair. This was an all volunteer unit and Sgt. St. Lawrence
was assigned to the 1st squad as its leader.
This unit was assigned to operate around the village of Pho Huong between hill 25 and hill 52 along
route 4, which was just a narrow dirt lane that started on the coast at Da Nang and ran westerly to
the border with Laos. This was a very dangerous assignment in a very dangerous area. The child
that you gave candy to in the morning could very well be the child that tossed a hand grenade at you
that evening. Or perhaps the child could tell the Vet Cong where you were located and how many
Marines were there. There was no way to tell who was friendly or who was the enemy.
I believe that in this narrative of Sgt. St. Lawrence I should try to mention his character. The
problem is that I did not know the man and what I could have said might not be accurate. In the
heat of battle the true nature of all the combatants is revealed. In the case of Sgt. St. Lawrence
there is a written record. It is the Bronze Star Medal citation of his deeds in battle. I shall repeat the
citation as it was written.
“For meritorious service in connection with combat operations against the enemy of the Republic of
Vietnam, while serving as a squad leader and subsequently as a platoon guide with the Combined
Unit Pacification Program, 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines, 1st. Marine Division from 21 January to 8 June
1970.Throughout this period Sergeant St. Lawrence performed his duties in an exemplary and highly
professional manner. Displaying exceptional military acumen, he expeditiously accomplished all
assigned tasks and consistently provided his unit with outstanding support.
Participating in numerous patrols and ambushes, he repeatedly distinguished himself by his courage
and composure under fire while moving to dangerously exposed vantage points from which to pin
point enemy targets and direct the effective fire of his men. Particularly noteworthy were his actions
on 2 February, when his unit’s night defensive position came under a vicious ground attack by a
large North Vietnamese Army force. Reacting instantly, he skillfully deployed his men into effective
fighting emplacements, then unhesitatingly moved across the fire – swept terrain to a nearby
observation tower which had already sustained damage from the hostile fire. Heedless of the enemy
rounds impacting around him, he adjusted supporting mortar and artillery fire upon the advancing
North Vietnamese Army soldiers with such speed and accuracy that they were forced to retreat,
leaving their casualties behind. Reassigned as a Platoon guide on 4 March, he continued to
distinguish himself by his outstanding performance of duty. He fearlessly traveled hazardous routes
to ensure that his widely dispersed squads were adequately supplied at all times. Sergeant St.
Lawrence’s professionalism, superb leadership, and steadfast devotion to duty contributed
significantly to the accomplishment of his command’s mission and in keeping with the highest
traditions of the Marine Corps and of the United States Naval Service.”
“The Combat Distinguishing device for Valor is authorized.”
This citation is signed by Lieutenant General William K. Jones, Commanding Marine General, Fleet
Marine Force, Pacific.
I cannot think of a more powerful testament to the nature and character of Sgt. Albert A. St.
Lawrence then that citation.
Sadly, a box mine killed Sgt. Albert St. Lawrence as he was attending to the needs of his men June
8, 1970, and the Bronze Star was awarded posthumously to his Mother.
The citizens of North Attleboro learned of the death of another young man from town in the June
11,1970 edition of the Evening Chronicle. On the first page there was a photo and an article about
the tragic events of June 8th in Vietnam. The grief of the family was now the grief of all that knew
Sgt. Albert St. Lawrence as a boy, a teenager, and the man that he became.
For the third time St. Mary’s Church was the scene of the final tribute to another of North Attleboro’s
sons to have perished in Vietnam. The rites were held at 8:15 A.M. from the John J. Diamond
Funeral Home, followed by a High Mass of requiem. The Rev. Armando A. Annunziato celebrated the
Mass. Miss Dwyer was the organist and James Brennan was the soloist.
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Bearers, all from the Marine Corps, were Gunnery Sgt. Glenn Martin, Staff Sgt. Heckman, Staff Sgt.
Frazer, Staff Sgt. Austin, and Sgt. Kroos.
Honorary bearers were Selectman George P. Glaiel, Leonard E. Welch, and Thomas J. Hoey.
Representing the Fire Dept. were Chief John C. Park, Captain Irving Meyer, Deputy Chief William R.
Mercier, Privates Eugene Nardeilli. Ralph Boyle, James Armfield, Cameron Forbes, and John
Robertson.
Representing the Police Dept. were Lt. John J. McCarthy, Patrolmen Brian Coyle, Michael Gould, and
Harry Belham.
As the procession made it’s way down North Washington Street on the way to Saint Mary’s Cemetery
the activity of the center of North Attleboro came to a respectful halt with the citizens paying their
respects.
The committal service was conducted by the Rev. William Blottman of Saint Mary’s Church and
assisted by Farther Annunziato.
A firing squad fired a farewell salute and Taps were sounded as the casket was lowered into the
grave. The escort, Marine Sergeant Douglas R. Forsythe, presented the Nation’s Colors to the
Sergeants Mother.
No one was aware that day, but the war in Vietnam was slowly sputtering to an end. Sergeant
Albert A. St. Lawrence was the last son from Town to lose his life in that faraway conflict.
Semper Fidelis
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