HN
James C. O'Reilly, Jr. served with the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines,
India Company. He was Killed In Action during Operation SWIFT. His name
stands proudly on the India 3/5 Wall of
Honor alongside his Marines and fellow FMF Corpsmen. Semper fi,
Doc. We will never forget.
Operation
SWIFT
Semper
fi, Doc
The people of India
Company 3rd Bn. 5th Marines would like all to know that this Corpsman
was our friend. Our Corpsman are very special to us as Marines. Thank
you Doc. for all you gave. Semper Fi.
Sgt.
Curtis Eidson
India 3/5 67-68
Jimmy
To grow into young
manhood with best friend Jimmy, challenging the limits, reckless in
high school on adventures and in the streets. Learning how it's all
done, measuring our potential, finding a brother in each other. Then
he joined the Navy, became a medic for something to do. Got assigned
to a Marine infantry unit.
I was proud
of him, I was afraid for him. He came back on last leave before his
tour in South Vietnam. We laughed, we drank from starry filled nights
to bright sunny mornings ending with the good-bye moment. "If I
don't come back" he said. "Never happen," I said.
Eight months
later my world crashed when the Navy sent back my last letter "address
does not exist." How could I tell myself the spirit that sparkled
in his eyes is gone, destroyed. How could I tell myself Jimmy is dead.
I visited his sister and mom for strength, I couldn't visit the closed
casket. How do you ever explain it to yourself. I cried for 3 days.
Somehow I knew one day I would to end up in the Vietnam I saw on TV
and he wrote about. Looking for Jimmy, looking for answers. Sept. 1967.
Patrick Trainor
Arlington
Rows
of still endlessness
white stones for eternity
standing at attention
all becalmed
to the four somber horizons
when i found Jimmy
in that great pale dead sea
unbecomingly was he
waiting for me patiently
resting quietly
James
Conrelius O’Reilly, Jr.
Massachusetts
USNR
Vietnam
June 20, 1948
September 4, 1967
we
talked while i cried
trying to make peace
with the past.
Patrick Trainor
Jimmy
1967 To 1988
He
joined up
went away to train
came back a medic
stayed for 30 days last leave
partied like it was the last of it
before he went
straight to hell
His
letters recorded
the changed young man
till one of my letters
was returned unopened
"address does not exist"
the body bag came home
with a don't open note
His
mom got our flag folded
in the perfect triangle
I only had his mom and sister
I cry a river for 3 days
and floated away
on historical events
The
stage was set
with world wide issues
and I was haunted
by the answer to the question
as was my male generation
to be or not to be
I wanted to know
I
want to see inside the black hole
not listen to someone else's
second hand opinion
and I missed Jimmy
I went way to train for 18 weeks
I came home for 30 days last leave
I partied like it was the last of it
I
rode a big silver bird
a 24 hour ride staring
out the little window
at the great Pacific
for a trace of Jimmy's wake
in the oblivion
of that blue ocean that never ended
I
reached the mud and sweat
the 360 degree tension
the immense poverty
the rotting stink
the strange dark brooding
cold blooded haunted world
of night noises
and the ringing between your ears
and the anticipation
and the inhumanity of it all
I changed
Nothing's
the same
nothing will ever be the same
years haven't faded the smells
or images flashing
full of emotions
Always
sooner or later
I see him in a crowd
his eyes never catch me staring
he's still 19
he never stops to recognize me
it's a big joke I tell myself
but it's not funny,
it will never be
funny.
Patrick Trainor
