Dads time in Vietnam from a friend

I received this email and wow. After reading I was googling what had been said to me. After researching the contents of this email I sat for a long time reflecting. These were babies..these brave men only a couple years older then my daughter. I ask that after reading this post, you close your eyes and try and truly grasp how life was for these men. All they endured, in the name of Freedom. May god bless each one of our Vietnam Vets and may the world show them the respect each truly deserves.


I knew your dad quite well in Vietnam and the association asked if I could possibly contact you. First I want you to know that myself along with many other members of our organization were sorry to hear of your Dad's passing.  Dick was a brother and warrior and his loss saddened many of us who served with him directly in combat.

Your dad and I arrived in Vietnam about the same time in 67.
We were both chosen to go to Golf Company 2nd Battalion 7th Marines operating in what was known as the rocket belt around Danang. We both ended up in weapons platoon 60 m.m.mortars. Before that I did not know your dad. But in a very short time we became very good friends and I learned to count on your dad and him on me. The company's primary job was running daily patrols and night ambushes to keep the enemy out of Danang and from setting up rocket sites to hit Danang. We only had each other out in the middle of indian territory so we became a very close unit knowing that if you were in Golf each and every man walked the walk and talked the talk.

We spent alot of time every night of the week in a foxhole rain or shine sleeping and protecting our combat base from night attacks. Your dad and I spent very much time together on sweeps and many combat operations. I always felt good being in the field with your Dad because he was what being a Marine was all about. I knew I could count on him to fight to the end and cover my butt along with the other members in our group.

 Eventually we went to the Philippines to regroup after an operation called Allen Brook in May of 68. Our company became severly depleted after this op and we had to pick up new Marines to replace those we lost on the op. We returned to Vietnam as part of  helicopter attack squadron operating all over the coast of Vietnam in areas of suspected heavy concentrations of V.C. or N.V.A. We were choppered in from the ship in early morning darkness wondering what was waiting for us. Before we left the cooks on the ship would give us steake and eggs along with o dark thirty religious services. For those of us young Marines although not really religious at that time in our lives needed all the help and support we could get from the man upstairs so we attended the short service. A sailor would lead us to the ammo,grenades under red running lights and then take us up to the flight deck where our chopper was running and ready to lift us off.
We could be on the operation for a month or more before we saw the ship again.

Your dad and I left Vietnam together from the ship in a chopper to Danang where we were processed to go stateside. Your father,myself, and a Marine named Todd were sitting in the enlisted club while laying over in Okinowa. An earthquake started shaking the building and those inside ran for the door. The three of us just sat there enjoying our beers in a relative safety that we haven't experienced for well over a year. Those in Golf knew you had two choices either wounded in action or killed in action. You knew it was coming but not in which form.

So bottom line for me is, I will always love your Dad Tammy and I will feel an emptiness that only a brother can feel.

An Email

Today I received this wonderful email from one of dads marine brothers named Bill. I am slowly seeing the bond these brave men have with one another. It is so heartwarming to see my father had such great friends and how he was admired by so many. This is exactly the material I want to keep publishing. Memories from people like you. Please share with me and keep them coming

Two weeks ago, Richard Croteau, one of my Marine Corps Brothers passed away.

 Last year, I got together in Florida with another old Marine Buddy, Tom ****, we had all served together.

     Croteau was living in Sebring Florida and he was dying. Tom and I met at Croteau’s house in Sebring about 2 ½ hours away. We sat with him for about five hours and told stories and laughed. We were no longer old men, we were once again young 19 year old Marines. It was great! Croteau told us the Doctors had given him 4 months to live and it had already been 7. Dick was dying as a result of exposure to Agent Orange in Viet Nam. I told him that we were having another Platoon 290 Reunion the following August and if he was still alive I would get him up to Quantico to see all the guys once again. He told me he’d “hack it” as long as he could and do his best to make our Reunion. He was excited.

As I drove home I understood that I’d never see Dick again. He was in a lot of pain and his time was near. He NEVER ONCE COMPLAINED. He was taking his condition like a Marine, as we were all trained to do. He would do his best quietly, until the end. Dick never made our Reunion. By the time the date came he was in hospice care and although he still wanted to try to come the doctors would not permit it. Dick passed away this past October.

     This morning I received an email from his Daughter. She has a website richardcroteau. Go on it and read how Viet Nam affected her life.

     As I sit here writing this, I wonder how many other children and Families that horrible time in our history, has affected.

My Journey

Today I googled my Fathers name "Richard Croteau" by doing so I was led to quite a few military forums where he had posted. As I read each post I could hear him through the words. I smiled and a hunger grew inside me with a burning desire to know more. 

Upon googling his name I was able to find out he was in Platoon 290, Paris Island 1966. I also found out he was G 2/7 1967- 1968. I then googled G 2/7. Hours were spent on forums and anytime I came across someone that posted the keywords G 2/7 I would compose an email reaching out to them.

I spent hours writing emails and sending, hoping, praying someone would be kind enough to reply. More than half the emails I sent bounced back to me unable to be delivered but I was satisfied with the amount that were sent. Two very kind souls replied to me. How my heart raced, could they have known my dad? Can they fill in the blanks. Are there pictures? The desire to know all I can consumed me.

In one email correspondence I was able to learn my dad was in a weapons platoon, 60mm mortar. I have no idea what these military words mean. But I am reading up as much as I can. Both emails offered to put me in touch with others that can help me on my journey in discovering my dad.

I am very excited to what lays ahead. I am hoping to put up the section about Richard by the end of the weekend and will continue to post as I learn more

How I met my Father

The memory is so clear to me, the day I met my dad.  I was 4 years old, mom took us for a looong ride. It was exciting, she didn't tell me where we were going only that we were going to have fun. Mom took us to a beach. It was so pretty but different then the sandy shores of New Jersey. I remember a tall skinny man there. He was a handsome man. His hair dark like mine. He knelt down and pulled me closer to him with a hug, he smiled and asked do you know who I am? I shook my head no and he said "I'm your fatha Tammy" I remember looking at him and I did not comprehend what he was saying to me but I remember saying eww your breath smells. He had beer on his breath and I didn't like the smell. What happened after that is gone. I cannot remember the rest of the day.

I did not see my dad after that and as an adolescent the guilt I felt deep within me made me physically ill. In the mind of a 7 year old I believed in my heart I made him angry and he disappeared. I mean why would he love a bratty little girl who pushed him away that day on the beach? I tortured myself with self blame and loathing. As an awkward teen I truly believed it was because I was ugly. Into my teen years I was filled with insecurity and I began cutting. I felt unloved, ugly and so much guilt for pushing my father away that day on the beach. My mom always told me it was the war. He was a good man and it was the war that changed him. I didn't understand what that meant.

Through the years as I grew, I searched for him. If I could only apologize maybe he would love me, was my thought. My searches always came up empty, filling the hole in my heart with darkness. One day I was home with my husband and my phone rang. It was my dad. He found me!!! I cannot even begin to describe the joy I felt that day. All my dreams came true.

After that initial call there were visits and phone calls. We had a relationship. I had a new family, the cutest sister, the kindest brother and a caring stepmom. My dad was so funny he would make me laugh on the toughest days. He was so kind and gentle towards me. Though every visit would end with me crying when it was time to say goodbye. With each goodbye I felt he would slip away from me again.

On  my last visit to my dad in July 2013 my stepmom could see in my heart, she knew there were things I needed to say to my dad. I told her I was so afraid because I didn't want him to be angry and leave again. She told me I needed to get closure and she left us alone. There we sat and my heart was beating so hard. I didn't want him to feel guilty for anything or get angry at what we were going to discuss.

We talked that day, tears streaming down my face I asked him why? Why dad was I so unlovable that you didn't want to even know me.I apologized for the day on the beach and the look he gave me will stay with me forever. He told me "Don't you dare blame yourself Tammy. I was not a good person when I was young and I made many mistakes but I always believed your mom would find a nice man that would adopt you and could care for you better then I could then." We talked for a long time that day, there were tears, laughs and hugs. It was a day of forgiveness and love.

I admire my father, I love my father, but most of all I give him the highest of respect. My heart goes out to any Vietnam vet, the horror they had to witness could damage any soul. He fought for our country, our freedom and did so with pride.  What I didn't understand then I was able to understand now.

I will miss my dad, his voice most of all for when we talked he had such love for me, he made me feel complete. I am grateful for the years that I was able to have a relationship with him and ask God to take care of my dad until I see him again


"I had talked to my dad before he passed, on our last visit and told him about my blog. I asked him if he would mind if I told our story on it, he gave me his permission as he believed it would be healing for me, though I didn't publish this on my personal blog I hope it tells the story of one girls search and the happy ending she was able to obtain"

Got a very sweet email from Jody, Richards niece:
So Nice,  He  Was  such  good  Man , Best  Uncle I Ever  Had. I Loved  Him  a lot,  Miss  Him  Too....

Regards,
jody  comeau