We were invited in and given welcome through the front door, as if following the aroma, we were led, on into the parlor where the coffee pot thumped and steamed as it perked. Her nervous hands managed to splash the coffee into the empty cups. The over filled cups began filling the saucers, now staining the table cloth . Until now few words had been spoken. My knock at the elderly couple’s front door that stormy night in Forsyth Georgia was unannounced. Other than some small talk about the weather, the hard rain, and the thunder storm outside, words had been kept to a minimum. The usual greetings had been offered. It was as if we were obligingly welcomed as being two weary travelers who only needed a short respite from the raging storm outside.
Through the pouring rain the identity of my military vehicle remained concealed. The color and markings of the sedan barely were visible in the glow of the dim yellow porch light. Our soaked and dripping dress green uniforms didn’t seem to give a hint of confirmation as to the reason for our business. There was an insisting offer to take our wet jackets, but when Captain Dawson turned towards the fireplace light, the twinkling polished brass crosses on his lapel gave away our mission and reason for the visit.
I will never forget the look of despair that came across Mr. Fogle’s eyes. I tried to catch Mrs. Fogle as she slumped and fell to the floor, No! She whaled. “Not my Jerry”, “Oh no. Not my Jerry”. “Please tell me, not my Jerry” Captain Dawson tried to console her as she pleaded. Ever so softly, in a wavering apologetic voice he uttered, “mam I cannot tell you anything about your Jerry, but I am ordered and only allowed to inquire as to the whereabouts of Jerry Fogle’s next of kin, that person being his wife, Mrs. Elli Fogle”. “I am very sorry to burden you, but my driver was given your address as his last known home and residence”. “Can you, please mam, direct us as to where we might find his wife, Elli”?
“Death Notification” was the dreaded unavoidable extra duty for me as a VIP driver in 1967. Every Friday afternoon I was required to check the Company’s bulletin board for weekend duty, if any. So, I reported to the Fort Gordon Georgia Transportation Dispatcher as ordered. I happened to draw Corporal Jerry Fogle’s envelope from a fish bowl filled with envelopes. From there I drove to the Center Chaplin’s Office. I arrived there to pick up Captain Dawson who had been waiting for me. Our appearance and uniforms and were inspected. Only then were we allowed to open the envelop that contained our orders. “Find and inform Mrs. Jerry Fogle”, and only Mrs Jerry Fogle,” “THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES, AND A GRATEFUL NATION, IS SADDENED TO INFORM YOU THAT, IN THE LINE OF DUTY, THE ULTIMATE SACRIFICE BEING MADE BY YOUR HUSBAND, CORPRAL JERRY FOGLE, RESULTED IN HIS DEATH”. Our orders included the phrase,”Do not return to this Post until your mission is complete”. We found Mrs. Elli Fogle at a wiener roast the following evening. At that time were able to complete our mission, allowing us to return to the Post.
This same scenario was repeated some 58,318 times times during the Vietnam war era. Out of respect for those involved, names and places that I will never forget, have been changed. May God forgive us all!
Sp-5 James M. Cripps
US Army, 1967-1970
VA THE REDNECK WAY, YOU DON'T HAVE TO GO IT ALONE! 