Robert Batcheller Bliss

California and Massachusetts.

None that I ever enjoyed enough to make a career out of. Although, I have made a personal career out of helping people in need and supporting wildlife.

Family is the most important thing. Kiss your wife and hug your children.

Help protect Wildlife when and wherever you can. Help those who cannot help or speak for themselves.

If you have more than you ultimately need, give what you can to others not as fortunate. Donate to your animal shelter monthly.

And, do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

After high school I joined the Marine Corps. I graduated in the top ten percent of my platoon of 113 recruits and was promoted to private first class. I learned one thing about boot camp training; it ain't for sissies! After Parris Island my orders sent me to Camp Pendleton, California, where I joined the 27th Marines until I volunteered for Vietnam service. OK, I know. But remember that was 1966 and the Communist threat was a very real threat at the time, and none of us could see into the future and visualize the mess our country would soon get us into; especially those of us putting our lives on the line. Our fathers and uncles fought in WWII and I felt that it was my turn to stand up and serve my country. With President Kennedy's inaugural words in my head, I joined the famous 2ND Battalion 4th Marines who were fighting the VC and hard Corps NVA (North Vietnam Army) in a faraway land.

After slogging through the jungles, mountains and rice paddies, and trying to withstand the incredible heat and humidity, I succumbed to a little mosquito that choose me to receive the severest of the four types of Malaria, Falciparum. I contracted the disease after religiously taking my Malaria pill once a week. I actually started hallucinating during a nighttime ambush where several VC were killed walking into our position. After several days being very sick I ran such a high fever that I passed out standing in formation in a rear area. I was medevaced out and spent the next month on the USS Sanctuary, a hospital ship that sat off shore in the South China Sea.

After Eight months serving with 2/4, our battalion was sent north to the DMZ to act as a roving battalion outside of Con Thien that was under siege by the NVA at that time. We lost many Marines and Corpsmen being shelled in place nearly every day we were up there. Many of us, myself included, began to think none of us would make it out of there standing up. I became very fatalistic. The enemy knew where we were at all times and chose to attack us when and where was most advantageous to them. On 9/21/1967 three of 2/4s four companies walked into an enemy ambush containing a much larger force than ourselves. To make it short, we fought the NVA all day until dusk when Golf, Echo and Fox companies disengaged after getting most of our dead and wounded brothers out on medevac choppers. I was severely wounded when a mortar round landed next to me and my platoon sergeant. I was a field radio operator and the enemy probably saw my antenna and decided to fire on me to disrupt our communications, as they often did.

I lay out in a designated LZ waiting to be medevaced out, (they mortared our wounded too) but there were too many casualties and I didn't get aboard a chopper until near dark and I was fading fast. I got aboard the last bird out and we barely made it out to the USS Sanctuary, my old friend, since the helicopter was running on fumes, having been back and forth all day long attempting to save young Marine lives. The Bird's captain, who ultimately received the Distinguished Fly Cross, told me years later that we almost went into the sea being so low on fuel. I'm happy to say we made unto the deck of that beautiful ship. On deck a minister got on his knees to give me last rites. I told him to "F*** Off, I'm not going anywhere." I hope he forgave my insolence.

So, gangrene set into my leg, and initially I only lost my foot. However, the Navy doctors who tried to save my leg were unsuccessful and eventually I lost the entire leg. Still, I was very happy to be alive, and, despite a many difficult times, still am today. I spent close to a year in the Naval Hospital in Oakland, California recovering from my wounds. Even so, it was so good to get stateside.

The Second Battalion Fourth Marines spent over a month patrolling near the DMZ as part as Operation KIngfisher. They continued fighting the NVA and getting shelled by their artillery, rockets and mortars. They were overrun at a vital bridge, being told to "hold at all cost." In the end, 2/4 went up there with four companies of Marines, and when they were finally ordered to come out of the field they had lost two thirds of its men. I lost many friends in Vietnam and can say truthfully, I am very proud to be a Marine Vietnam Veteran.
Semper Fidelis
Robert Bliss