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4/23/2021 4:10:58 PM
 
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Section 21: Community News Subject: Thoughts on Wall That Heals Msg# 1123644
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One Name on The Wall
My brother was a Marine rifleman in Vietnam in 1965. His best friend Jhue Price died steps away while they were on a mission together. This is Jhue Price's story from the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund (vvmf.org) mobile phone app.:  Born June 20, 1946. Died May 11, 1965. Marine Corps. Granger, Texas. He earned the title "U.S. Marine" on June 17, 1964. FINAL MISSION OF PFC JHUE F. PRICE PFC Jhue F. Price was an infantryman serving with 3rd Squad, 3rd Platoon, E Company, 2nd Battalion, 3rd Marines, 3rd Marine Division. On May 11, 1965, PFC Price’s company was on an early morning operation in Quang Nam Province, RVN, where they assaulted the small village of Le My. While in line moving toward the village, Viet Cong sniper fire was received and Price was hit in the face, killing him instantly. The corpsman was called up to attend to Price while his squad pressed the assault. It wasn’t until three hours later when members of his squad were injured after triggering a booby-trap and came into contact with the corpsman again that they found out that Price had died. [Taken from coffeltdatabase.org and information provided by Milton Frederiksen (February 2018)
I have heard your name mentioned over the years by my father on the rare occasion he shares the details of his tour in Vietnam. In years past, I have visited the Vietnam Wall in D.C. and have had my father point out your name, on Panel 1E, Line 113. The reason I write today is because I learned last night (Veterans Day, 2015) that my father was alongside you when you went down on May 11th, 1965. Having since heard my father's story, I have a tremendous desire to reach out to you - someone who I don't even know - and say that I miss you, I love you, and that you are not forgotten. If anyone reads this who knew Jhue Price, please reach out to me (513-680-9491), for I would love to find out more about him. Semper FI, Marine REMEMBERED AND HONORED Pfc Jhue F. Price served with Echo Co. 2nd Bn 3rd Marines and is still remembered and honored today by we Vietnam Veterans of Echo Co. 2nd Bn 3rd Marines, 1965-1969. Should any family members or friends read this remembrance, please contact me at echo2367@rochester.rr.com or at 16 Lakewood Village Medina, N.Y. 14103. We can also be contacted at our website www.echo23marines6569.org. Semper Fi |
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For reference, the above message is a reply to a message where: The Wall That Heals commentary by Joe Reynolds It is an enduring testimonial to the patriotism, honor, and selflessness of 58,276 American heroes who gave their lives for their country and their comrades in arms during the Vietnam War. It is a monument to the greatness within individuals. It is beautiful work of art. It is depressing. It is celebratory. It is black. It is engraved in white letters with those 58,276 names. One was fifteen years old. Eight were women. Forty sets of brothers. Three sets of Father and Son. Average age is under twenty-three. Over 1,500 are unaccounted for. It is The Wall That Heals, a three-quarter scaled replica of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall in Washington, D.C. Three hundred and seventy-five feet long. It stands now in our community. In Ocean Pines. Forty-five volunteers showed up Wednesday morning to erect the wall. Driving metal stakes. Carrying and assembling the metal framework. Lugging heavy wall panels the length of a football field. Grueling work. They labored non-stop from early morning until late afternoon. These were not all young, strong individuals. These were predominately seniors. Men and women over sixty. Some well over sixty. One woman appeared on the verge of collapse. Someone grabbed her end of a wall panel. She sat down. Ten minutes later she emerged from the gaping end of the trailer containing the Wall pieces, again carrying one end of another heavy wall panel. They were showing their respect for the devotion and ultimate sacrifice of those who never came home from a war far, far away. No question, this was a labor of love. Of appreciation. For those with names on the wall, and for those who survived and returned to an American populace shamefully not ready to recognize their amazing sacrifice. As a photographer, I photographed the workers’ efforts. Later Wednesday evening, I returned to view and photograph The Wall That Heals in the faint afterglow of dusk merging into night. For a time I was alone with The Wall. The enormity of the individual and family sacrifice stretched out before me in the symbolism of the Wall was overwhelming. Like the universe, it is beyond comprehension. |
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