MARK POWELL’S HOLY COW! HISTORY

Imentioned in last week’s column that much attention has been paid to this month’s 75^th anniversary of World War II’s D-Day Invasion. As Lincoln famously said, “It is altogether fitting and proper that we do this.”

Yet another significant anniversary was also observed this June 6, though it was almost totally eclipsed by the bigger historical event. But it deserves mention now. Because June 6, 2019, was the 50th anniversary of the death of the youngest American service member killed in the Vietnam War. In fact, he shouldn’t have even been there. This is his story.

Dan Bullock wanted a better life. Born in North Carolina in December 1953, his father moved the family to Brooklyn, New York, shortly after Dan’s mother died. To his young mind, becoming a U. S. Marine would be the first step toward creating a new life. By the fall of 1968, Dan went from daydreaming to doing.

He falsified his birth certificate to show he was born in 1949 and on September 18 officially enlisted in the US Marine Corps. He was 14 years old. As his sister told the New York Times, “He was just a kid.”

Dan’s father was none too pleased when he came home and announced what he’d done. Enlisting in the military in 1968 meant running the very high risk of being sent to South Vietnam. But when he saw his young son’s genuine enthusiasm about serving, Dan’s father didn’t stop him.

And so the child shipped off to Parris Island. Standing just 5 feet 9 inches tall and weighing only 160 pounds, the young recruit was physically strong and toughed out basic training. As expected, the long flight to Southeast Asia followed in the spring of 1969. Dan was assigned to 2nd Platoon of Fox Company, a unit already worn thin by heavy casualties.

That was when his fellow Marines began noticing something wasn’t quite right with their new comrade. He performed his duties as required. But he rarely spoke, stayed to himself, and generally seemed out of place. The simple truth was Dan realized he had got more than he’d bargained for. In a combat zone where men were often afraid, Dan Bullock was secretly terrified. And he couldn’t tell anyone he didn’t belong there.

Dan sent letters to his family back in Brooklyn filled with the optimism so often found in wartime correspondence. He said he wanted to become a firefighter or police officer when his hitch was up. And he missed his family and told them not to worry about him.

But he grew even more aloof, his actions becoming even more secretive. Until the night of June 6, 1969.

Things were quiet that evening. Dan and three other Marines were crammed into a tiny bunker guarding an airstrip at a combat base in Quang Nam Province about 25 miles south of Da Nang. Communist commandos crept up and tossed a pack of explosives, nicknamed a satchel charge, into the bunker. Dan and the three others were killed instantly. North Vietnamese soldiers then attacked but were driven back after fierce hand-to-hand fighting.

The Americans held the base. But Dan Bullock’s life was over at age

15. He was too young to vote, too young to buy a beer, even too young to drive a car. It’s believed he remains the youngest American service member killed in combat since World War I a century ago.

The very next day, President Richard Nixon announced the start of the gradual, intentional withdrawal of US troops from South Vietnam. But that news came too late for Dan Bullock and tens of thousands of other Americans.

Talking to a reporter later that year about his loss, Dan’s father put it bluntly: “My son had no business being in that damn war.”

Have comments, questions or suggestions you’d like to share with Mark? Message him at jmp.press@gmail.com .