'I've been lifted': Marine's bravery recognized after more than 40 years

Marine's gallantry in 1967 celebrated with long overdue Silver Star

Donald Hossack clearly remembers counting the camouflaged tree stumps as his platoon followed another in an assault up Hill 881 South near Khe Sanh, Vietnam. "I thought, Oh God - this is not good. This is really going to be bad."

In Vietnam, stumps smeared with mud meant trees were cut down to build bunkers for a setup - more like a killing field.

Moments later, a mortar round struck just two to three feet in front of him and about eight feet to his right. Shrapnel pierced his helmet and slammed through multiple points on his body.

"I ripped off my helmet because my head was burning, he recalled. "I had my right arm broken and I had a sucking wound to my chest."

More than 40 years later, the U.S. Marine Corps has recognized Hossack and two other Hill 881 South heroes with Silver Star medals for "conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action." Hossack's medal was awarded March 24 in Billings where his daughter lives.

The Silver Star is the third-highest U.S. military decoration.

Hossack, who retired as Kalispell's assistant police chief in 1998, remembers the assault began at exactly 10:30 a.m. on April 30,1967. He was the platoon radio operator with Company M, Third Battalion, Third Marines, Third Marine Division.

The mortar round that wounded Hossack and blew his radio off his back killed his platoon leader and injured his friend Lance Cpl. Ray Calhoun, one of the three Silver Star recipients.

In spite of his injuries, Calhoun came to Hossack's aid to stop the sucking wound from collapsing his lungs.

"I told Ray what to do," Hossack said. "He cut plastic off the radio and took bandages off of dead guys and cinched the wound up really tight."

As he was moved to a bomb crater for cover, Hossack managed to secure another squad radio. With his platoon leader dead, Hossack quickly decided he needed to stop friendly mortar fire from killing the Marines.

During the pause, the North Vietnamese took advantage by moving even closer. Hossack's counter move was to call for an artillery strike from three units.

"Those gun bunnies put the artillery right where I wanted it."

He remembers watching the destructive force with just his .45-caliber pistol for defense when he heeded Calhoun's yells to pull back and join him.

Hossack still remembers Calhoun's wide eyes when he crawled back to the safety of a bunker. Following his stare, he saw the grenade - a Chinese variety with a bamboo handle.

"I looked over then I rolled over it on my right side and the thing went off."

Shrapnel from the blast tore a large hunk out of his hip - but miraculously didn't kill him. Calhoun bandaged him up with a field dressing. He was off again.

Hossack remembers it was 12:30 p.m. when the order crackled over his radio to "retrograde" or retreat after two hours of hell.

"I looked at Ray and he looked at me," he said.

They had no idea how they would drag all the wounded and dying off the hill to safety. With his blood pressure plummeting, he recalls his resolve flagging but Calhoun said, "We've got to do this." He then asked what to do next.

Before it was over, Hossack was wounded a third time from AK-47 fire while assisting a wounded Marine.

"We did get all the live people down," he said.

Remorse clouds his face as he recalls that they had to leave the dead.

He remembers that it was 10:30 p.m. when he ended up on the hospital ship USS Repose. Once on board, Hossack remembers a singular craving for ice cream after a day as close to hell as most living souls ever get.

Looking back, Hossack has a humble explanation about how he and the other men kept going in the face of fierce enemy fire and grievous injuries.

"You don't want to die," he said. "We just did the best we could."

After three months on the mend, Hossack returned to Vietnam to finish his tour. He said he followed the lead of Tommy Wheeler, the third Marine honored with a Silver Star for his bravery on Hill 881 South.

Few people, other than Marines, understand why they willingly returned to rejoin the fight after nearly losing their lives for a cause many among them questioned. Hossack quotes the Marine Corps motto.

"Semper Fidelis - always faithful."

It took almost 42 years for the Marines and America to say thank you, mainly because so many in command died on that hill in 1967. A six-year effort by retired Maj. Gen. John Admire resulted in the three Silver Stars.

Hossack said the simple ceremony meant more to him than he anticipated. Like many from the Vietnam era, the trauma of seeing so much death and losing so many friends never left him.

He felt a distinct difference after receiving his Silver Star in what he called a very nice and enjoyable ceremony.

"It's like I've been lifted."

In an interesting postscript to his service, Hossack discovered that former Vietnam combat artist Austin Deuel had used him as the model for a a bronze sculpture of Marine kneeling beside a fallen comrade. The sculpture became a monumental double-life-sized Marine Corps Memorial in San Antonio.

Imagine his shock in 1986 when he found his likeness in the smaller version of the sculpture titled "Hill 881 South-for what?" Hossack remembered calling Deuel at his gallery demanding an explanation.

"It's endearing to me now," he said. "We've become close friends."

Hossack has stayed in contact with both Deuel, Calhoun, Wheeler and others who survived against all odds. Some of his former Marine buddies have returned to Vietnam to visit the hill since the cessation of animosities.

As for Hossack, he has no interest in returning to Vietnam to relive the war he believes should never have happened.

"I didn't leave anything over there," he said. "Just some blood in the dirt."

Reporter Candace Chase may be reached at 758-4436 or by e-mail at cchase@dailyinterlake.com.