Known by his nickname "Doc" and callsign "Buzzard," he was a Marine's Marine. One of a few who earned both Combat Aircrew Wings as an enlisted Marine while fighting in Vietnam and Naval Aviator Wings subsequent to commissioning after earning his degree at Texas A&M (go Aggies!).
Doc was indeed a Marine's Marine and it was my great privilege to have served with him. More importantly, it is my great honor to call him friend and mentor.
Raised in Texas, he played football and was known to get into a scuffle or two as a young 'un. He was also known for his honor, integrity, courage, commitment, and relentless patriotism. Rarely was there a Marine more suited to wear the uniform than Doc.
I remember the laughs and serious times we spent together, including getting lost on an LHA during a port visit, his incessant snoring those nights in Korea, his keen and somber advice to young Marines (officer and enlisted), sharing a beer at the Marine Corps Birthday Ball, and standing shoulder to shoulder, in the face of opposition, for what was right.
Even after our respective retirements, we remained in close contact, including the annual telephone calls each November 10. During our last call, we moaned and groaned about not being able to get into the fight with our brother Marines in Iraq or Afghanistan.
Later on that gray day he was laid to rest in Arlington, I went solo to the Marine Corps Memorial.
Finding a quiet bench under one the trees, I sat, thought about Doc, shed some tears, and attempted to come to closure with his passing. Now five years later, I still hear the sound of his Texan drawl in the air. I still see his stern glare, but behind it the smile of a friend. And every remembered sight and sound is of that simply outstanding Marine.
Doc, rest in peace, brother.
Semper Fidelis
To you and Doc, and those like you ... there's damn few left. Semp fi!
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