Friday, February 13, 2009
paratrooper.net
I found Paratrooper.net and have posted a request for anyone that knew Dennis while he was at Fort Benning.
Monday, February 9, 2009
2nd Battle Group 4th Cavalry
Followed the trail of the 4th Cavalry Regiment that dad was assigned to in Korea. During the time my dad was in the 4th Cav they were part of the 1st Cavalry Division. This regiment was not sent into battle in the year and 1/2 that dad was attached to them.
The 2nd Battle Group that dad was in had been Troop B during the Indian Wars and after moving from division to division, it is now a memorial group. It was changed back to Troop B 4th Cavalry and marches in parades in vintage 1886 uniforms, keeping alive the rich history of the 4th Cavalry.
The full designation of dad's unit at the time he was attached was:
Company A / 2nd Battle Group / 4th Cavalry Regiment / 1st Cavalry Division
The 2nd Battle Group that dad was in had been Troop B during the Indian Wars and after moving from division to division, it is now a memorial group. It was changed back to Troop B 4th Cavalry and marches in parades in vintage 1886 uniforms, keeping alive the rich history of the 4th Cavalry.
The full designation of dad's unit at the time he was attached was:
Company A / 2nd Battle Group / 4th Cavalry Regiment / 1st Cavalry Division
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Dennis V. Reeder
Dennis Verdun Reeder was my father.
Dennis was in the Army and served a full tour in Vietnam before reenlisting and then being reassigned to stateside service as a Sargeant. His second tour of duty was cut short. I will post his full history another time. After he died we requested and received his military records.
All he ever told us was that he served with the Green Berets and jumped with the 101st. He never enjoyed talking about his service and the only stories I ever heard were a few anecdotal stories, nothing detailed and nothing about over there. Just some stories about training.
He told us that the day he left he took one dress uniform to give to his mother. Everything else he left on his bunk and told everyone to take what they wanted. He wanted nothing.
Mom said he never stopped having nightmares.
Dennis was in the Army and served a full tour in Vietnam before reenlisting and then being reassigned to stateside service as a Sargeant. His second tour of duty was cut short. I will post his full history another time. After he died we requested and received his military records.
All he ever told us was that he served with the Green Berets and jumped with the 101st. He never enjoyed talking about his service and the only stories I ever heard were a few anecdotal stories, nothing detailed and nothing about over there. Just some stories about training.
He told us that the day he left he took one dress uniform to give to his mother. Everything else he left on his bunk and told everyone to take what they wanted. He wanted nothing.
Mom said he never stopped having nightmares.
A poem from my dad
A cousin of mine found this in some family papers and sent it to me yesterday. Two pages, typed, dated January 29, 1960. I have copied exactly as written.
"THE SILVER WINGS"
This is a sad story, that I shall relate,
Of my poor Buddy and his unfortunate fate.
We joined the Troopers, for thrills galore,
Besides they pay us fifty-five dollars more.
"We wear our wings, we wear them with pride.
For thsi bit of glory, Brave men have died."
The Airborne, our choice, they are plenty rough,
Fighting, they love it, they never get enough,.
It's our first jump, we're nervous and tence,
We wouldn't be here if we had any sence.
Chutes are adjusted, we were putting them on,
All ready to leave at the first crack of dawn,
A few rays of light appeared in the sky,
The planes were all loaded and ready to fly.
Down the runway our "winged coffin" roared,
As each man prayed, prayed to the Lord.
She left the ground, were airborn at last.
T'was fifteen minutes and they went by fast.
There wasn't a hand that would stay steady,
While waiting for the command, "Get Ready."
Then it came just as we had heard it times before.
Many times below in the old mock door.
"Everybody Happy", yelled the jumpmaster with cheer.
"Yes", we answered, with our hearts full of fear.
I stood in the door looking at the ground below.
Joe was behind me, the next man to go.
My canopy was blossomed, a sight to adore.
T'was then I saw Joe just leaving the door.
His body was turned in a powerful blast.
This jump was his first, and it would be his last.
Downward he hurtled, it was to late.
He had an appointment the lady called fate.
His screams were heard for miles around.
Ending abruptly when he hit the ground.
We all heard him hit though high in th sky.
I was a wittness, I saw Joe die.
I prepared to land, and hit with a thud.
The grass once green, now covered with blood.
I got up slowly and approached his form.
I touched his corpse, his flesh was still warm.
I held his crushed head, in tender embrace.
The tears ran down my anquished face.
I shuddered with grief at the horable sight.
There was more of Joe, off to the right.
I braced myself and looked at the rest.
His ribs protruded from his mangled chest.
The bloody will, from his pocket I took.
And opened it with fingers that shook.
A sharp pain pierced me deep inside.
As I read the word's of my Buddy who died.
(THE WILL)
"Ed, my jump boots I leave to you.
They are shined and polished almost new.
If you look in my jacket pocket,
There you will find my sweethearts locket.
Send it to her with all my love.
Tell her I went to heaven above.
Under my pillow on my bunk,
There is som money, throw a big drunk,
All I want is one last toast.
Here was a trooper, who fulfilled his boast.
And when you're gay,
Remember your pal of yesterday."
The medics arrived there was work to be done.
T'was only routine, just another dead one.
The colonel came at our request.
And pinned his own wings on poor Joe's chest.
The hearse pulled up to where he died.
And took him away on that long last ride.
"We wear our wings, we wear them with pride.
For this bit of glory, Brave men have died.
BY Dennis V. Reeder
dvr/bpa
End of the poem
This is presented as his original poem. I have no reason to believe that is not the case. If anyone has insight into this poem or my father, please comment on this post.
"THE SILVER WINGS"
This is a sad story, that I shall relate,
Of my poor Buddy and his unfortunate fate.
We joined the Troopers, for thrills galore,
Besides they pay us fifty-five dollars more.
"We wear our wings, we wear them with pride.
For thsi bit of glory, Brave men have died."
The Airborne, our choice, they are plenty rough,
Fighting, they love it, they never get enough,.
It's our first jump, we're nervous and tence,
We wouldn't be here if we had any sence.
Chutes are adjusted, we were putting them on,
All ready to leave at the first crack of dawn,
A few rays of light appeared in the sky,
The planes were all loaded and ready to fly.
Down the runway our "winged coffin" roared,
As each man prayed, prayed to the Lord.
She left the ground, were airborn at last.
T'was fifteen minutes and they went by fast.
There wasn't a hand that would stay steady,
While waiting for the command, "Get Ready."
Then it came just as we had heard it times before.
Many times below in the old mock door.
"Everybody Happy", yelled the jumpmaster with cheer.
"Yes", we answered, with our hearts full of fear.
I stood in the door looking at the ground below.
Joe was behind me, the next man to go.
My canopy was blossomed, a sight to adore.
T'was then I saw Joe just leaving the door.
His body was turned in a powerful blast.
This jump was his first, and it would be his last.
Downward he hurtled, it was to late.
He had an appointment the lady called fate.
His screams were heard for miles around.
Ending abruptly when he hit the ground.
We all heard him hit though high in th sky.
I was a wittness, I saw Joe die.
I prepared to land, and hit with a thud.
The grass once green, now covered with blood.
I got up slowly and approached his form.
I touched his corpse, his flesh was still warm.
I held his crushed head, in tender embrace.
The tears ran down my anquished face.
I shuddered with grief at the horable sight.
There was more of Joe, off to the right.
I braced myself and looked at the rest.
His ribs protruded from his mangled chest.
The bloody will, from his pocket I took.
And opened it with fingers that shook.
A sharp pain pierced me deep inside.
As I read the word's of my Buddy who died.
(THE WILL)
"Ed, my jump boots I leave to you.
They are shined and polished almost new.
If you look in my jacket pocket,
There you will find my sweethearts locket.
Send it to her with all my love.
Tell her I went to heaven above.
Under my pillow on my bunk,
There is som money, throw a big drunk,
All I want is one last toast.
Here was a trooper, who fulfilled his boast.
And when you're gay,
Remember your pal of yesterday."
The medics arrived there was work to be done.
T'was only routine, just another dead one.
The colonel came at our request.
And pinned his own wings on poor Joe's chest.
The hearse pulled up to where he died.
And took him away on that long last ride.
"We wear our wings, we wear them with pride.
For this bit of glory, Brave men have died.
BY Dennis V. Reeder
dvr/bpa
End of the poem
This is presented as his original poem. I have no reason to believe that is not the case. If anyone has insight into this poem or my father, please comment on this post.
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