Medal of Honor, Major Richard Ira Bong, United States Army Air Forces
Major Richard Ira Bong, Air Corps, United States Army, Leyte, 12 December 1944. Major Bong is wearing the Medal of Honor. (U.S. Air Force)
17 December 1944: Major Richard Ira Bong, United States Army Air Corps, flying a Lockheed P-38 Lighting over San José on the Island of Mindoro, Commonwealth of the Philippines, shot down an enemy Nakajima Ki-43 Hayabusa (Allied reporting name, “Oscar”).
This was Bong’s 40th confirmed aerial victory and made him the leading American fighter ace of World War II. He is officially credited with 40 aircraft destroyed, 8 probably destroyed and 7 damaged.
Five days earlier, 12 December, during a ceremony at an American airfield on the Island of Leyte, Philippine Islands, General Douglas MacArthur, United States Army, had presented Major Bong the Medal of Honor.
An Associated Press reporter quoted the General:
“Of all military attributes, that one which arouses the greatest admiration is courage. It is the basis of all successful military ventures. our forces possess it to a high degree and various awards are provided to show the public’s appreciation. The Congress of the United States has reserved to itself the honor of decorating those amongst all who stand out as the bravest of the brave. It’s this high and noble category, Bong, that you now enter as I pin upon your tunic the Medal of Honor. Wear it as a symbol of the invincible courage you have displayed so often in mortal combat. My dear boy, may a merciful God continue to protect you is the constant prayer of your commander in chief.”
[On 18 December 1944, Douglas MacArthur was promoted to General of the Army, a five-star rank held by only nine other U.S. military officers. General MacArthur was the son of a Medal of Honor recipient, and had himself been twice nominated for the Medal for his actions during the occupation of Vera Cruz (1914) and the Meuse-Argonne Offensive (1918). He was awarded the Medal of Honor for his defense of the Philippines, 1941–42.]
Richard Bong’s citation reads:
MEDAL OF HONOR
The President of the United States of America, in the name of Congress, takes pleasure in presenting the Medal of Honor to Major (Air Corps) Richard Ira Bong, United States Army Air Forces, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action above and beyond the call of duty while serving with the 49th Fighter Group, V Fighter Command, Fifth Air Force, in action in the Southwest Pacific area from 10 October to 15 November 1944.
Though assigned to duty as gunnery instructor and neither required nor expected to perform combat duty, Major Bong voluntarily and at his own urgent request engaged in repeated combat missions, including unusually hazardous sorties over Balikpapan, Borneo, and in the Leyte area of the Philippines. His aggressiveness and daring resulted in his shooting down eight enemy airplanes during this period.
General Orders: War Department, General Orders No. 90, December 8, 1944
Action Date: October 10 – November 15, 1944
Service: Army Air Forces
Rank: Major
Regiment: 49th Fighter Group, V Fighter Command
Division: 5th Air Force.
Major Bong flew a number of different Lockheed P-38s in combat. He is most associated, though, with P-38J-15-LO 42-103993, which he named Marge after his fiancée, Miss Marjorie Ann Vattendahl, a school teacher from Poplar, Wisconsin.
Richard Bong had flown 146 combat missions. General George C. Kenney, commanding the Far East Air Forces, relieved him from combat and ordered that he return to the United States. He was assigned to test new production P-80 Shooting Stars jet fighters being built at Lockheed Aircraft Corporation’s Burbank, California plant.
On 6 August 1945, the fuel pump of the new P-80 Bong was flying failed just after takeoff. The engine failed from fuel starvation and the airplane crashed into a residential area of North Hollywood, California. Major Richard Ira Bong was killed.
George Patton was arguably the most audacious general the United States has ever produced. However, that guy was a bit nuts. He was not of the same caliber as Major White.
Soldiers do curious things for some of the dumbest reasons. Referring to the Medal of Honor, General George Patton once opined, “I’d give my immortal soul for that little blue ribbon.” That is objectively insane.
I never met an inspiring soldier who chased awards. The true heroes I have encountered were, to a man, humble. Jack Lucas threw himself on two grenades at once in the opening salvoes of the invasion of Iwo Jima, rightfully earning the Medal of Honor in the process. When this indestructible Marine found out I was a veteran, he thanked me for my service. I wasn’t worthy to polish that man’s boots.
Like others of his rarefied caliber, Jack deferred the glory to those who did not come home. I am ever amazed that, as a people, we can create such men as these. Of all the silly baubles that drive soldiers to ridiculous heights, be they funny hats, uniform patches, or scraps of colored ribbon, none should be so dreaded as the Purple Heart. To earn that medal, you’ve got to bleed.
George Washington instituted the first Purple Heart back in the 18th century.
The Purple Heart
George Washington thought that one up. The award was first called the Badge of Military Merit, and it was established on 7 August 1782. The medal bears Washington’s likeness even today. Washington only presented three of the awards, though he empowered his subordinates to deliver more. The Badge of Military Merit then languished unused until 1927.
While several military men worked on the project, it finally came to fruition under the leadership of Douglas MacArthur. The specific details of the modern Purple Heart were designed by an Army heraldic specialist named Elizabeth Will. The finalized award was formally resurrected on 22 February 1932, the 200th anniversary of Washington’s birth.
Douglas MacArthur was the US military’s first recipient of the Purple Heart medal.
The Purple Heart was awarded retroactively for wounds received during World War 1. MacArthur himself was the first recipient. It was standardized across all services in December of 1942. However, the Purple Heart is a military award no sensible person covets.
A Circuitous Path
Born on October 27, 1910, William Gail White was the youngest of three children born to a Presbyterian minister and his schoolteacher wife. White attended High School in Bakersfield, California. From the very beginning, he wanted to be a soldier. White volunteered for a summer training program called the Citizens Military Training Camp (CMTG) and was designated honor trainee. Upon graduating in 1929, White began competing as part of the Ninth Corps Area CMTG Rifle team.
A superb marksman, White was recommended for a commission as a Second Lieutenant, but he was too young. He enrolled in the San Jose Teachers College in 1930 but dropped out and enlisted in the US Marine Corps. In the summer of 1930, White was assigned to the USS West Virginia as part of its Marine detachment.
William White was a gifted marksman. He set a Marine Corps record with the M-2 .50-caliber machine gun.
Exactly The Right Type of Person
White excelled as a Marine. He set the Marine Corps record with the Browning M2 machinegun, scoring 396 out of 400 on the 1,000-inch range. After eleven years as a Jarhead, William White left the Marines for civilian life. He worked for Shell Oil until 1941. However, with war approaching, White enlisted again, this time as an Army Private at age 31. He was assigned to the 32nd Infantry Regiment of the 7th Division stationed at Fort Ord, California. During one training mission in California, White crossed the Salinas River alone on an inflatable air mattress to gather intelligence on enemy dispositions. This earned him the nickname, “The Salinas River Sea Serpent.”
By the summer of 1944, White had indeed become a commissioned officer. Now 34, he was assigned as the Executive Officer for the 3rd Battalion, 330th Infantry Regiment, 83d Infantry Division. He later commanded his own battalion. White made Major 25 months to the day after enlisting as a Private. Suffice to say, it takes considerably longer than that today. By late June, White was moving into Carentan, France, to relieve the 101st Airborne after they assaulted Normandy.
William Gail White Attracted Pain
The Browning Automatic Rifle was a boat anchor to hump. When Major White snatched one up during the hedgerow fighting in Normandy, its owner was a bit irked.
Major William Gail White was utterly fearless in combat. While advancing through the accursed Norman hedgerows, White struck out at a run, rallying his men to follow. Throwing himself onto the far berm, he spotted a pair of German machinegun positions sited to produce a crossfire in the next open field. The next American to arrive was a BAR man. White did not feel that he had time to direct the man’s fire, so he snatched up the BAR himself.
He then neutralized both positions before swapping magazines and striking out with the heavy gun for the next berm. Meanwhile, the poor BAR gunner who had lugged the massive weapon throughout training and the landings in France scurried behind shouting, “But Major, when do I get to use it?” White responded, “Never mind when you get to use it. Throw me another damn magazine…”
Normandy in the summer of 1944 was a dangerous place. White and his unit were facing the 17th SS Panzergrenadiers along with elements of the 5th and 6th Fallschirmjager Regiments. These elite troops fought fanatically for every yard of French dirt. On 5 July, Major White was hit in the chest by a 9mm round fired from a German MP40 submachinegun. This bullet struck him a glancing blow, blooding him badly without penetrating anything vital. Later that same day he caught a grenade fragment to his forehead. Those two injuries bought him two Purple Hearts in a single day.
William White became known as the Mad Major for his tenacity in combat.
Major White Kept Collecting Bullets
In the next forty-eight hours, Major White was wounded three more times. He was first struck in the shoulder by a piece of shrapnel from an artillery round. What put him down, however, was a bullet along with grenade fragments that synergistically shredded his forearm.
These wounds, his fifth and sixth, physically removed a substantial portion of his forearm and rendered him unconscious. Three inches’ worth of bone was visible when they evacuated him. He awoke to, “The face of the most beautiful blonde angel he had ever seen.” The exhausted Army nurse did her best to clean his battered body and brought him something to eat. Despite his being declared a critical surgical case, White still had to wait three days for space in a crowded operating theater.
Army surgeons reconstructed his forearm as best they could and covered the wound with a skin graft from his thigh. White later joked, “Every time my leg itches I have to scratch my arm.” However, the damage to his forearm muscles was severe, preventing him from using a weapon. This should have been his ticket back to the Z.I. (Zone of the Interior—Stateside).
The German Walther P38 was a radically advanced combat handgun for its day. Operating the long stiff double-action trigger on the gun gave Major William White a goal as he recovered from a fearsome arm injury.
Not Done Fighting
Major William Gail White still felt he had more war left to fight. When evacuated he had stashed a captured Walther P38 pistol in his gear. The hospital staff had stored the German weapon in their supply room. White retrieved it and spent hours trying to squeeze the double-action trigger. When finally he could reliably activate the weapon, White felt he could return to his unit. He subsequently went AWOL and caught a ride back to the continent from England.
White tried to find his old unit, but this was a chaotic time. While fighting as a replacement in Luxembourg he was showered in fragments from yet another German hand grenade. That was Purple Heart number seven.
This is a German Panzerkampfwagen Mk IV. Major William White took out two of these tanks himself toward the end of World War 2.
As Tough As They Come
We lack the space to do this man justice. White was captured by the Germans but escaped, liberating another fourteen Americans in the process. This earned him the Silver Star. On 10 December 1944, White earned his second Silver Star during combat in Strauss, Germany. This action saw him eliminate three enemy machine gun positions, two Pzkfpw Mk IV tanks, and two self-propelled guns while capturing 31 German prisoners. Along the way, he caught a burst of machine gun fire to the belly. That was his eighth Purple Heart.
As a physician, this is tough to imagine. White was evacuated to England for a major belly surgery and colostomy. He subsequently crashed on the operating table. The surgeons had the chaplain administer the last rites, yet he miraculously recovered.
At the end of the war, Major William White, shown here on the right, struck out alone into enemy territory and made contact with Russian units advancing from the east.
Major William Gail White: Back At It
After less than a month, White had his colostomy reversed. Two days after that he slipped out of the hospital and caught a C47 back to the war zone yet again. 48 hours before he had been pooping in a bag. Good Lord, what a man.
While fighting around the Elbe River, Major White was wounded a ninth time, his last before the German capitulation. However, this shot-up old hero wasn’t quite done. He later deployed yet again for the war in Korea.
By now White was more than 40 years old. During one engagement in Korea, communist forces shot the antenna off of the radio he was carrying. Another bullet also took off his cap. He later counted six bullet holes in his parka. Soon after, while serving as an advisor to a South Korean special forces unit, White made a one-round confirmed kill on a running North Korean soldier at 900 yards over open sights using an M1 Garand rifle.
William White earned the Purple Heart medal ten times.
White was eventually shot through the right chest with a Chicom rifle round. This was his tenth and final wound. Despite lots of surgery and a laborious recovery, the man still would not die. He subsequently went on to complete Airborne school and serve as a Ranger instructor. William White eventually retired as a Lieutenant Colonel.
The Rest of the Story
The morality of employing two atomic bombs to end the war in the Pacific has been debated ever since the bomb bay doors opened on the Enola Gay back in August 1945. However, it is a historical fact that these two bombs ultimately saved countless lives on both sides by negating the need for an amphibious invasion of the Japanese home islands.
The Purple Hearts that are awarded today were all produced during World War 2.
During WW2, the US government manufactured 1,506,000 Purple Heart medals. Most of these were planned for use in the aftermath of Operation Downfall, the invasion of Japan. After the war, nearly 500,000 remained in storage. Even accounting for those that were lost, stolen, or wasted, as of 2000, the national stockpile still stood at around 120,000. The Purple Heart medals that are awarded to service personnel today are all more than 75 years old.
Lieutenant Colonel William Gail White, the frag magnet, finally died of natural causes on 6 April 1985. He was 74 years old. White was interred at Maplewood Cemetery in Kinston, North Carolina. Eventually, old age did what the Wehrmacht and the communist Chinese could not. Wow, what a stud.
On May 2, 1945, he was assigned to a rifle company of the 5th Marines during the invasion of Okinawa. That day, the 5th Marines were pushing uphill towards a ridge against determined Japanese resistance. The slope was strewn with Marine casualties, and Corpsman Bush moved unceasingly among them rendering aid despite the withering fire all around him.
When the attack passed over the crest of the ridge, he moved up to the top of the slope to aid a wounded Marine officer. A Japanese counterattack swept over the ridge just as he began administering blood plasma to his patient.
As the Japanese approached, Corpsman Bush gallantly held up the plasma bottle with one hand and fired a pistol at the Japanese with the other. Then he grabbed a carbine and killed six advancing Japanese. He suffered several serious wounds himself, including the loss of an eye.
He remained guarding his “officer patient” until the enemy were repulsed. Then, according to the official citation, he “valiantly refus[ed] medical treatment for himself until his officer patient had been evacuated…”
50 years since the U.S. ground war began, there’s a push to remember the 134 Canadians killed
Vancouver’s Rob McSorley is one of at least 134 Canadians killed in action fighting for U.S. forces during the Vietnam War. (L Company Ranger 75th Infantry Archives)
At only 17 years old, B.C.’s Rob McSorley knew he wanted to go to war, and it didn’t matter if it wasn’t in a Canadian uniform.
Now, 45 years after his death in the jungles of Vietnam, his sister is finally learning how much he mattered to the American soldiers with whom he served.
June-Ann Davies says in 1968, her brother was tired of school at Templeton Secondary in East Vancouver, and decided joining the military would cure his boredom.
The war in Vietnam was still raging and Canada wasn’t officially participating, but McSorley was determined to be at the heart of it.
“I think he wanted adventure, which he could get out of the U.S. military as opposed to the Canadian military,” said Davies, who now lives in Kamloops, B.C.
McSorley’s parents tried to reason with him: He wasn’t an American, and it was actually illegal for him to fight in a war that didn’t formally involve Canada.
But McSorley was going to Vietnam, with or without their support.
“When they were putting up a bit of a fight, that’s when he said, ‘Well, you either sign the papers, or I’m going anyways and I’ll lie about my age,’ ” Davies recalled.
Canadian Rob McSorley, left, is pictured in March 1970 with two members of his U.S. Army Ranger regiment after a dangerous reconnaissance mission. McSorley was killed in action only weeks after this photo was taken. (L Company Ranger 75th Infantry Archives)
His parents grudgingly signed the forms, and McSorley travelled just across the B.C. border to Blaine, Wash., to enlist in the U.S. army, which was accepting anyone who came through the door.
Two years later, what was supposed to be the adventure of a lifetime ended suddenly. McSorley was shot by North Vietnamese soldiers.
Davies still remembers being in bed when the doorbell rang at their Vancouver home, and a telegram delivered the news about her older brother.
“It was awful. Terrible. Yeah, it was the worst day,” she said.
“He only just started his life when it ended. Because he’d just turned 19 two weeks before.”
McSorley is remembered as a brave soldier within his unit of the L-Company Rangers. (Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund)
According to Davies, her family felt isolated after her brother’s death. No one they knew in Canada had relatives who had joined the U.S. military, let alone gone to Vietnam.
“Afterwards, my parents didn’t say a lot about it, other than to say that my brother was a hero,” Davies said.
20,000 Canadians enlisted; at least 134 killed
McSorley was certainly not the only young Canadian to fight and die in the conflict.
Canada never officially joined the fight with U.S. forces in Vietnam, and eventually harboured tens of thousands of American draft dodgers and deserters.
But much more quietly, a steady stream of young Canadians was crossing the border in the opposite direction.
An estimated 12,000 Canadians served in combat roles in Vietnam. Pictured in a 1968 CBC News story are three Canadians: Ron Payne of Galt, Ont., Richard Dextraze of Montreal and Arthur Fisher of Niagara Falls, Ont. The men served in the same U.S. marines unit. (CBC)
The Canadian Vietnam Veterans Association estimates that about 20,000 Canadians enlisted, although other historians think that number may have been as high as 40,000.
Canadian Ron Parkes was with one of the first U.S. battalions to join ground operations in the Vietnam War in 1965. (Ron Parkes/CVVA)
The association believes 12,000 Canadians actually served in combat roles in Vietnam.
Some were dual citizens who may have been living or working in the U.S., but many other Canadians volunteered, driven by a conviction to fight communism, or by a love of adrenalin.
By the end of the conflict, it’s believed at least 134 Canadians had died or been declared missing in action.
To put that number in perspective, 158 Canadian soldiers were killed during the mission in Afghanistan.
Many Canadians came home from Vietnam with their lives completely changed.
“I’m proud of my service,” said Canadian Ron Parkes, who enlisted in the U.S. military during the Cuban missile crisis.
The Winnipeg veteran was deployed to Vietnam in the summer of 1965, serving with one of the first American brigades to join the ground war.
Today, Parkes is president of the Canadian Vietnam Veterans Association, which he co-founded in 1986.
Struggle for recognition by the legion
According to Parkes, Canadian Vietnam veterans were ignored or forgotten for years after the war.
“When I came back and brought up the subject, it was always ‘Who cares? We weren’t there. We weren’t in it,’ ” Parkes said.
“When I went down to the Royal Canadian Legion, they wouldn’t accept us, our service. So for many years they just forgot about it.”
The government of Canada has never formally acknowledged the citizens who were killed or declared missing in action in Vietnam, but according to Parkes, in 1994, the Royal Canadian Legion officially recognized Canadian Vietnam veterans for regular membership.
“It’s been a long struggle to get the word out, but we’ve persevered and accomplished quite a few things now,” Parkes said.
Canadian names still being added to memorial
The name of every Canadian who died fighting for the U.S. in the war is listed on the expansive Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C.
Canadian Rob McSorley’s name is on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C., alongside the 58,000 U.S. servicemen killed in the controversial war. (Patti Jette/CBC)
Some, like McSorley, are officially on record as being from Canada.
The ‘North Wall’ Canadian Vietnam Veterans Memorial was dedicated in Windsor, Ont., in 1995. (Don Davies)
Other Canadians aren’t remembered that way at all — listed only as being from the American towns or cities where they enlisted.
In 1995, some American veterans took up the cause for their Canadian colleagues and privately funded a memorial that was built in Windsor, Ont.
“The North Wall” Canadian Vietnam Veterans Memorial now lists the names of 138 Canadians who died in the war, but the number still grows today.
It includes 134 Canadians who were killed in action for the U.S. military, and four other Canadians who died in Vietnam while serving with the International Control Commission, the three-country body charged with supervising the 1954 partition into South Vietnam and North Vietnam.
“The main thing is to remember those that made the supreme sacrifice,” Parkes said.
‘Without Rob… I would be gone too.’
American Bruce Bowland says he never thought much about the idea that some men in the U.S. military were actually Canadian volunteers.
Bowland was only 19 years old when he was deployed to join the fight in Vietnam.
American Bruce Bowland, second from left, was 19 when he was deployed to Vietnam. His closest friend, Canadian Rob McSorley, was killed during a mission the two were on in April 1970. (John Burford)
That’s where he met and became fast friends with Sgt. McSorley from Vancouver, who at age 18 was actually younger than Bowland, but had already fought in a number of battles.”Rob told me he was a Canadian and he enlisted in the American army so that he could go to Vietnam,” Bowland told CBC News from his home in Gainesville, Fla.
“And I told him, ‘You’re crazy,’ ” Bowland laughed. “He was a gung-ho guy, man, a great man.”
Colleagues say B.C.’s Rob McSorley was a fearless soldier who died protecting other members of his unit on April 8, 1970. (L Company Ranger 75th Infantry Archives)
McSorley’s U.S. Army Rangers unit was sent into what was known as “Mission Grasshopper” in the A Shau Valley, when they were suddenly caught in a battle with North Vietnamese soldiers.
“[Rob] said ‘Wow, this is really cool. I feel like John Wayne!’ ” Bowland recalled.
“That’s the type of guy he was. He knew his job, he did his job, and you knew he always had your back.”
It was on that same mission on April 8, 1970, that Bowland was planning to “walk point,” leading his team toward the jungle to make sure it was safe.
But he says McSorley wanted to be the leader that day, so he took the spot from Bowland, telling him he was a more experienced soldier.
The young Canadian was checking the bush for signs of the enemy when he stumbled upon a group of North Vietnamese soldiers.
They opened fire on each other, but McSorley’s gun jammed. He was sprayed with bullets and fatally wounded.
Bowland says his life was only spared because the enemy had their sights trained on his Canadian friend.
“Without Rob sacrificing his life for me, I would be gone, too. I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have a son and two daughters. I wouldn’t have a grandson,” Bowland said.
“Rob gave up a lot of things, and I often wonder what his life would have been like if he would have come back and got married and had children. But he sacrificed his whole life for us, and I’ll never, ever, ever forget that.”
June-Ann Davies of Kamloops, B.C., lost McSorley, her brother, in the Vietnam War. Her husband, Don, has thoroughly researched McSorley’s experience in Vietnam, hearing directly from the men who were there when he was killed. (Chris Corday/CBC)
‘He didn’t want to be a bystander’
In Kamloops, McSorley’s sister June-Ann Davies and her husband, Don, have spent many years learning about her brother’s service in Vietnam.
Don Davies has spent many long nights researching the war stories of a brother-in-law he was never able to meet.
“I’ve got heavy into it, finding out about him, and I do find it very emotional. Even though we didn’t meet face-to-face, I feel I know him as a man,” said Davies, holding back tears.
“He did what he thought was the right thing to do, and he didn’t want to be a bystander. And that’s Rob and everything I’ve heard about him.”
Over the last decade, June-Ann and Don Davies have made contact with Bowland and a number of the Rangers who fought alongside McSorley.
June-Ann Davies says their stories about her brother have changed her life.
“Even after all these years, it’s still emotional, but it’s also healing.”
