Clyde Stramel

Clyde Stramel

Clyde Stramel

Gary Noller

How He Sees It

Memorial Day honors those who made the ultimate sacrifice for their country

By Gary Noller, Guest Columnist

© Kerrville Daily Times; May 29-30, 2021

In 1965, my high school class graduated 52 seniors. That same year, five Americans lost their lives in the Vietnam War.

In 1968, the number of Americans who died in the Vietnam War was 16,899. This was the largest number of Americans to die in any one year of the war. One of the dead was a member of the Class of 1965.

James Leo Nufer, my classmate and friend, died on March 11, 1968. His unit engaged a large enemy force along a road near Que Son, Vietnam. The enemy unit participated in the Tet Offensive and was withdrawing towards the Laotian border. James, a member of a machine gun crew, was killed while getting a resupply of ammunition.

I knew Jim my whole life. We were born a few days apart and were in the same hospital nursery for a few days. We attended grade school and high school together. He built a race car and I was his pit crew. In the end, I helped carry him to his final resting place in our hometown of Dodge City, Kansas.

For many years, I had a recurring dream about Jim. The scene was usually a public place with a large crowd. Jim would come in and stand by the front door. Someone would take notice and say, “Look, its Jim Nufer. He wasn't killed in Vietnam. He is back home now.” It was a dream.

Two other schoolmates died in the war in Vietnam. Richard Conrardy and Gregg Steimel both died in July 1970. They were younger than me but I knew who they were. Both had sisters in my high school class.

I learned of these two losses in a letter from my sister. I read the letter while sitting on a rock under a banana tree in a Vietnam jungle.

“We have some bad news. Mom did not want to tell you. She thinks it will be hard for you to take. But I think you should know,” she wrote.

Mom was right. And so was my sister.

All three of my schoolmates served in combat with the U.S. Army. Jim and Gregg were infantrymen, Richard was a medic. All three earned valor awards. Gregg received the Distinguished Service Cross, Richard the Silver Star, and Jim the Bronze Star for Valor. In the time of their ultimate test, they exposed themselves to enemy fire to defend the lives of their buddies.

Over the years, veterans who served with my schoolmates visited the graves of their lost brothers. One told me that he drove around Dodge City to see what the town was like and what Jim Nufer may have experienced growing up there. He was Jim's platoon leader and felt pain and guilt from Jim's death.

“I just wanted to see that he was finally at rest in his hometown,” he said.

On June 12, I plan to be in Dodge City to participate in the dedication of a memorial monument to Jim, Richard, and Gregg. The memorial stands along a walking path in a city park near our former high school. The text on the monument is brief. But it is enough to let the viewer know why these three young men deserve to be honored.

Over the years, I have tried to resolve the losses we suffered in the Vietnam War. I really do not care for most of the political explanations and tend to pass them by.

But another veteran told me how he came to grips with our losses. He summed up his thoughts in two sentences: “Our buddies served in the uniform of our country. But they died fighting for their brothers' lives.”

John 15:13 states, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

Or refer to Shakespeare's verse in his work Henry V. King Henry says, in part, “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother.”

Today, anyone who remembers Jim and Richard and Gregg very well are at least 60 years old. In a few short decades we will be gone.

But the memorial monument will remain to honor these three.

That is the least we can do.