There are lives so well lived that the encapsulated measure of their influence and stature is truly almost incomprehensible, if we look at the scope of where they came from and where they ended up. Who rises up from the ashes of the downtrodden, persecuted, and neglected sects of our society? How would that story read? Who would that human be? There was a boy from Bishopville, a son of sharecroppers, whose story seems so unlikely that many have called it a “legend” but we assure you that every word is completely factual; in all actuality the reality of the story is probably more powerful than the tale itself. A young black child grows up in those oppressed and subjugated segments of a nation that’s supposedly built on the principles of freedom for all; but not living up to its foundational promises. Does that child one day become a man and rise up in passionate vitriol against “the man”, becoming a pinnacle of revolution and revolt? Or, does he tackle those problems from a different angle? This project is not meant to act as a social commentary, but merely a legacy piece on one American’s example of the reality of ultimate persistence against all odds. 

James Capers Junior was born to be a Marine. In fact, in a 2012 speech, General Paul Lefebvre referred to him as the father of Marine Special Operations as the Major was inducted into the Commando Hall of Honor at MacDill Air Force Base. His courageous actions that day (described in great detail in the piece) in Vietnam, which are once again under review for the Congressional Medal of Honor, are simply a microcosmic example of his entire life. They are also indicative of a man who showed up as the prototype of what it truly meant to be a Special Operations warrior. He has constantly lived with a heart of pure purpose, incessantly persevering through every single life obstacle, whether systemic or constructed by those around him to hinder his meteoric rise through the ranks of the USMC. Where some may have seen a closed door as a roadblock, Major Capers voraciously kicked those doors down in pursuit of something greater than himself. Although the Major has been robbed by the Marine Corps time and time again in his quest for our nation’s highest military honor, we all know the reality of the matter and the man. We know that this Marine has been one of our elite examples of what it truly means to be a Marine, and we are all better as a nation for him having lived to serve. Every impeded step towards success that Major Capers took in a construct built in expectancy of his failure; was a step forward in the advancement of freedom for all of us. We would like to say a special thanks to the Marine Reconnaissance Foundation for sponsoring this project. To learn more about their cause and to donate head over to www.reconfoundation.org/donate.

Can you tell us about your childhood and how you grew up?

JC: When I look back at my childhood there were some days that were extremely pleasant.  As I grew older and looked back in my past, I realized there were some very difficult days because of racism and Jim Crow. The times I lived in as a child, I didn’t see the horrors of Jim Crow or sharecropping because my parents took care to guard me. I saw the goodness of the world when I was out picking cotton, cropping tobacco, feeding the hogs, and picking fruit. Those things are what I remember and they’re all positive things. I remember milking the cows and trying to learn to ride horses. We had a horse named “Big Red” and I was always scared of Big Red. They put me on his back and he would throw me off every single time (laughs). I kept trying but I never did learn to ride Big Red. I don’t think he liked me very much but those are the things I remember growing up in the south and that was a time where it was all about learning my resolve. My family would tell me if Big Red threw me off that I needed to get back up on him. I think that was a type of prediction for my life moving forward. When you get knocked down you have to get back up. I learned a lot of things growing up in the South.

I learned during studying the Jim Crow laws how hard my parents had it. It wasn’t a pleasant time for them but through the eyes of a child it wasn’t horrible because they hid a lot of it from me. When I look back now I realize what they had to go through living the life of a sharecropper. They didn't have the good things given to them and they weren’t allowed to earn the things they should have been allowed to earn. We could talk all day about my life in the South but it wasn’t that bad to me as a child, and I refuse to complain too much. I had parents, a beautiful family, and eight siblings; four of whom died during their early childhood. The four of us survived and my two older brothers along with my sister passed away once we got to Baltimore. I remember my father did a little time on the chain gang for a crime he didn’t commit when we lived in the south. That is how it was in the South. There were a lot of African American men that were hung and lynched because of minor infractions or no infractions at all. My father somehow escaped the chain gang and escaped to Baltimore, although I’m not sure how. He got a place for us to stay and then sent for us. 

Me, my mother, sister, and two brothers joined him in Baltimore. We stayed in Baltimore until I joined the Marines when I was 17-years-old. I left when I was 18 to go to boot camp at Parris Island, South Carolina. The South was always prevalent in my mind and I never forgot it.  I had gotten sick with the same diseases that had killed my other eldest siblings.  There was a white family that took me in as told to me by my aunts and uncles, and I don’t remember them.  They took me in and cared for me when I was sick. The disease I had I probably would have died from but their care helped me survive. This was always a big thing in my mind as I grew up as a person. It was a wonderful thing for me to remember that everyone is not bad. If it had not been for them I probably would have gone the way of my other brothers. I heard these stories from my aunts and uncles as I was growing up. I don’t have any real memories of the time that I was with them. I don’t have any names or where they were from. Sometimes I try to remember something about them that might help me remember who these folks were. When I came back to my family I was told that I was speaking parts of a language they didn’t really understand. I must have picked up something from this family. I don’t really remember who they were but God bless them. If it hadn’t been for them I wouldn’t be here today. It’s kind of hard for me to say all white folks are bad. In fact, I can’t say that because I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for white people. Obviously there are stories about racism in the South and a lot of credibility to the lynchings and other horrible things that happened. I don’t have those kinds of memories, though. I have the memories of those white folks who took me in and were very kind to me. 

I accept what my family told me about this white family and I alway appreciated that. I probably wasn't the only one who this happened to. We heard about the Underground Railroad back in the old days where there were a lot of white citizens who helped African Americans. There were a lot of Jewish families that were part of that and it’s very well documented. There were many families that made it all the way to Canada. We know about those stories of white families helping African Americans get out of slavery or Jim Crow areas so that they could have an opportunity to succeed in life. There are some that went north to New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, New Jersey, and I was part of that group. I wouldn't have made it unless there was that kind family that took care of me. My family was reunited and my father was a wanted man for the rest of his life. He changed his name. Despite the way he was treated, he told me a lot of wonderful stories about the south. The hunting, the fishing, and the things that were part of his life that he enjoyed were stories he loved to tell me. He would hunt rabbits and squirrels.

My father was a jokester and he would exaggerate how many rabbits and squirrels he shot. He would tell me about going out with two rounds in the chamber and killing three squirrels (laughs). It was a hyperbole of course in that he didn’t really kill three squirrels with two rounds, but he was just trying to make me laugh. He was a funny man and I loved him. He gave me a mission before he passed away to take care of the family. I was the youngest. He told me that I might be the youngest child but it was my job to keep the family going. I had to take care of them and I did that. I buried each one of my brothers and sisters and all of my aunts and uncles. I was doing relatively well at the time from being in the military so I could handle all that just fine, financially. I followed his wishes and he died at age 75. There was no one in my family that had lived to age 75. I am 83 years old now. 

 What do you remember about your dad and him teaching you perseverance?

JC:  I remember a lot about my father. “If ten men start up a flight of steps and only one man makes it to the top then you believe you will be that man. You must believe it to be so.” He taught me that concept. He was letting me know how hard I would have to struggle to come out on top. If you believe in yourself you can make it to the top. I carried those words with me all the way through boot camp, into the jungles of Vietnam, and even up until now. He taught me a lot of things and he was a man of great hilarity as well, always knowing just when to joke around. At the end of his life I brought him here to my home to live with me and I recorded some of his favorite jokes. He would tell me jokes about his life in the South, the fish he caught and the small game he hunted. He didn't say much about the horrors of racism or bigotry he experienced. He didn't talk about being put on the chain gang for a crime he didn’t commit or how he got out of South Carolina and ended up in Baltimore. He didn’t tell me who drove the car or how hard it was to leave his wife and four young children behind. He was trying to spare me from some of the horrors that he experienced by keeping things light through comedy. He would always make me laugh with his wonderful jokes. It was such an amazing time when he came here to live with me. We would sit around a table and I would cry sometimes I’d be laughing so hard. He would spare me the hardships of his life and always find something positive. He was such an optimistic man even though he had a very tough life.

 What do you remember about your mother?

JC: My mother was a wonderful woman. I’m a mama’s boy. I remember hanging around my mom and holding on to her by the apron in our kitchen. She loved me. I was the youngest child. She wasn’t an educated woman but she was a lovely housewife, and a strong mother. She was mama and I called her mama until the day she died. I always thought she favored me because I was the youngest child. She always made sure I got cookies and things like that. She would scrounge up money from somewhere to send me to the movies whenever she could. When we lived in Baltimore I would always go see “Frank Buck and the Jungleland.” I always loved those kinds of adventure movies. Mama was a wonderful woman, a good mother, and wife. She would sometimes have to rein in my old man because he was sort of a rascal (laughs).

 Do you feel like they instilled Christian values in your life?

JC: My family definitely taught me Christian values and I remember my mama took me to church every single Sunday. She would dress me up in my little suit and take me no matter what but my father didn’t go to church very often. He was always hiding and didn’t like being in public because he was obviously a fugitive. My mother taught me to pray and she would sing songs she learned as a child, to me. I learned some of those by singing with her. Another thing I remember is that once we got to Baltimore we got a little black and white T.V.  She and I would sit there and watch the Soap Operas sometimes. She loved the Soap Operas and I think she got addicted to T.V. at some point (laughs). She knew all of the names of the programs. I would sit with her sometimes because I always enjoyed being close to her. 

Do you have any distinct memories from your childhood in Baltimore?

JC: It’s kind of frightening but it’s a true story. We lived in a little house in Baltimore and had a little pot belly stove that you put wood into. You would put coal oil in there and that was how we heated the house. At night we shut the stove off and would all go to bed. We would put on extra clothing because we didn't have any electricity to heat the house with. My old man came down one morning to start the fire up and there was a white man sitting there in the chair in the middle of the house. He wasn’t too far from the fireplace. My father came down and saw him sitting there and asked him what he was doing in our house. The man said he was tired, hungry, and cold. My father was a big man who could definitely beat this man every which way. He looked down at the man and reached in his pocket to pull out 75 cents. He gave it to this person and told him to go get himself some food. He told him to go warm himself up near our stove but to not come back to our home. My father told him if he came back he would snatch the breath out of his chest. “I will snatch the breath out of your chest.” I still remember that. One of the most frightening things I ever heard in my life and that’s saying a lot (laughs).  How do you snatch the breath out of a man’s chest? I was looking at this as a child and I figured that if this person came back into the house my father would not turn the other cheek. He was kind of scary at that moment.

The kindness of my father giving the money to this person he didn’t even know was what left an impression on me though. I thought that was the epitome of humanity. My father had wrong things done to him but he was doing the right thing in the moment. I learned a lot from that occurrence. It didn’t matter what color that man was or where he came from because my father saw him as a human being. He was sitting there telling my dad he was just cold and hungry. My father didn’t have a lot of money at the time but he did the right thing. I learned that my father was a good man and he had good qualities and I inherited all of those. I try to emulate everything he told me as I grew, even in the military. When I was in the Marines as a commanding officer I tried to instill in my troops the values I learned from my father and some of those senior NCOs who were effective in their command. I had the privilege of learning from some of those non-commissioned officers. One of them is Sergeant Yerman who you met and if it hadn’t been for him I would not be here today. He is a great man and reminds me consistently of those men and women who sacrifice so much for other people.  

When do you remember race being recognized in your life?

JC: I never really thought about race growing up. I didn't see that as a child. When we got to Baltimore I worked for a Jewish grocer named, “Mister Phil.” The grocery store was on the corner and I worked there when I got out of school every day. I was being paid $12.50 a week which wasn’t bad at the time. Mr. Phil had those strange markings on his arm because he had immigrated from Germany and had lived in a concentration camp. He told me some of those stories although I don’t remember them now. He was another person I learned so much from in my early years. The community I lived in was predominantly black and I had a chance to see his kindness as a white, Jewish man. I remember seeing a young, black mother come into the store with a couple of children and tell Mr. Phil that her husband didn't get paid that week because he was on strike. He said to me, “JC, take Miss so-and-so around the store to get her what she needs. Bring it up to the counter after you have it all.”

It wasn’t a big store or anything but we had canned goods and vegetable baskets out front. My job was to put the fresh vegetables out front each day and to stock the shelves with canned goods while marking the cans with prices. I went around the store to get those particular items for the lady and bring them up to Mr. Phil. She told him that she didn’t have any money and he replied that it was okay and when her husband got paid to come back. I was almost in tears because his compassion was so incredible. This was a small grocer who didn’t have a lot of money and he was helping the community out. Most African Americans in the neighborhood were having a hard time and typically received welfare checks. My father would never accept welfare or take any money from the government because he didn’t believe in that. Mr. Phil was there and he was the person you went to when all seemed lost. I’m sure he learned a lot from living in Nazi Germany. He didn’t tell me much about it but I saw those markings on his arm. I learned so much with his interaction with human beings. If you had a problem then you went to Mr. Phil.

What do you remember about the time when you chose to join the Marine Corps?

JC: I was a patriot. I learned about those things in Baltimore and I was there during World War II. I remember when the war was going on and the flood lights would purge those night skies over the metropolis. I remember the air raid wardens coming to our neighborhood and making us turn our lights out. I heard those sirens and I can still hear them to this day. When they were blasting you would have to turn out your lights and go inside. We always thought the Germans would bomb us. They were bombing the heck out of London and I always thought if they had the chance they would bomb us too. We would take as many precautions as possible. I remember when World War II was over there were so many people out in the streets of Baltimore celebrating the great victory. I was out with the crowd. I saw the newspaper and I could read at that time. The paper said “Victory in Europe.” I read about the war in Europe and knew about Hitler. The troops all began coming home and I remember the troop trains very well. They were returning to all the various cities and the transports had American flags on the outsides. 

The soldiers were on those trains and as they came through the cities the people would go out and wave to them. It was all so patriotic and wonderful. I also remember the other side of that during the war, and hearing people crying when they got the telegrams of their sons or fathers being killed. I’ll never forget hearing those screams and cries. There were a lot of things you couldn't do during the war, sacrifices that were made by all of us as Americans. There was food rationing on certain items like sugar and butter because they were extremely limited. Those items were going to the Pacific and Europe for the fighting men. It didn’t hurt me because I was pretty used to it seeing as my whole life was rationed as a youngster. As I grew to be a teenager I knew this was a great country and it needed to be defended. The things we heard on the radio at the time was the war correspondents broadcasting right from the battlefield. They would talk about how important it was to defend the country.  

When I turned 18 I had to register for the draft. If you didn’t sign up the FBI would come and find you. I went down and got my draft card. I was going to join the service and knew that when I was in High School. The recruiters from the Navy, Army, Marines, and Air Force all came over and gave their pitch. The Marine came in his dress blues and looked like he had tons of medals.  He was standing there and seemed like the most commanding man there.  He told us being in the Marine Corps certainly wasn’t for everybody. He talked about stuff that I used to say years ago when I talked to people about joining. The Marines are the best there is. He sounded so good in his recruitment speech. I liked the uniform and I liked what he had to say. My friend and I were actually so intent on joining any fighting force that we even talked about hitchhiking across the globe to join the French Foreign Legion. But, we finally decided to join the Marine Corps and went off to Parris Island. We made our fortunes as Marines. I lost that friend about ten years ago now, unfortunately. African Americans weren’t allowed to join the Marine Corps until 1942.

There was a place called Montford Point and it’s still there today. They have memorials out there for all of those guys from World War II. There were roughly 20,000 African Americans that joined the Marine Corps at the time of WWII and that was because Eleanor Roosevelt asked the President why African Americans weren’t allowed to join. That took care of that and in 1942 they started recruiting us. There were many that were not allowed to fight with the first division because the white commanders and politicians were still suspicious of us. They thought we might not have enough courage or something like that. They put us in separate battalions and a lot of us were artillery men. There were many that started out as cooks and bakers as well. But those Marines ended up fighting at Guadalcanal and all the way through the Pacific. I heard many stories of immense bravery. It was a few years ago that the President gave the African American Marine survivors of World War II a Gold Medal. Those that were living were given that medal. If those Marines weren’t alive, the award was given to their next of kin. I was lucky enough to help find the widows and next of kin. I bought the medals for them out of my pocket because that’s so important to our history.

Do those Marine forefathers mean a lot to you?

JC: The Marine Corps forefathers of the African American community mean a lot to me. I knew Gilbert “Hashmark” Johnson, one of the first African American men who joined. He was a bit of a scary man. There were quite a few African Americans that joined during World War II. Hashmark Johnson and Edgar Huff were the names I remember in particular. Huff was very tall at 6’6” and had a very high voice almost like a woman (laughs). It was actually kind of comical because here he was this very gruff, large, masculine character then he would speak and it sounded kind of feminine. He was the first black Sergeant Major in the Marine Corps. I remember him being the Battalion Sergeant Major and he called me into the back of a tent one time to tell me about his experiences during World War II. He told me they’d been in amphibious landing boats getting ready to make a landing and command didn’t give them any ammunition. They were what he called a “decoy.” The other white Marines landed but the African American troops didn’t have any ammunition so they stayed back just to draw Japanese fire. He was passing on the stories like I passed on to my guys later in life, and not necessarily just the black guys. History is very important to the Corps. 

The USMC was fully integrated in 1949 when we were allowed to go to the regular boot camp either in San Diego or Parris Island. I joined in 1956 and there were a lot of those first black Marines still there at boot camp, now as instructors. Some of those guys were very imposing because they’d been through a lot as first generation, African American Marines. We as young men didn’t know anything and the older generation wanted us to succeed. They put us through the wringer. I was not a large guy but they instilled a lot in me that made me stand much taller in my service. I thought to myself, “These guys are huge and where did they get them?” I had guys like Huff standing next to me at 6’6” and there were a lot that were well above 6 feet tall. I was told the recruiters used to have the men line up, and they would take the ones that looked best suited for the Marine Corps. They usually took the biggest guys. When I came through in 1956 the Korean War was over and they were kind of taking what they could get at that point. I had a high school diploma and was average height and size. They chose me and I joined but I honestly didn’t do very well initially in boot camp. I caught on though, and I remember a lot of those things the leadership taught me. 

Had Vietnam kicked off by the time you joined?

JC: Vietnam kicked off in 1955 actually. The French were there before us in the French Indochina War and didn’t do very well. They tried to get Eisenhower to give them something like 15 million dollars to continue the conflict. He told them he wouldn’t be supporting them anymore and the French backed out of Vietnam. To tell you the truth, we were conned into helping the Vietnamese out. We started deploying there in 1964 when they started sending Army Special Forces in there as advisors. And, I believe in 1965 the Marines went in with a heavy battalion. They committed to Operation Starlite. They received credit for something like 600 kills of the enemy. I saw some of the guys from Operation Starlite when we got there in 1966 as Third Force.  I joined a group called Third Force Recon Company which was especially designed to fight in Vietnam. 

How did you feel about joining Force Recon?

JC: Force Reconnaissance was a new organization and I had served three years in First Force Recon Company. I was what you would call an, “old Marine pathfinder.” We jumped in ahead of the line troops to set up landing zones and we cleared minefields so the troops could land. I did three years with them and spent a lot of that time overseas. I did some of that time in the Philippines and Solomon Islands. We did hydrographic surveys on the beaches. We were headquartered out of Okinawa. We spent thirteen months in Okinawa and after that was over we found out the Russians had brought some nuclear weapons into Cuba. I joined when Eisenhower was President and now it was Kennedy in command. President Kennedy decided that he would put some advisors over there in Vietnam to hopefully slow the spread of Communism. You have to remember that back then Communism was a very real threat.

 We decided to go in and help the Vietnamese people out as advisors first. Some of those first iteration advisors were killed and then we sent in some Marines. That escalated quickly and we ended up with 500,000 servicemen in Vietnam at one time. Then, we started to retrograde and bring them out. The North Vietnamese swept southward and took South Vietnam over. There were roughly 16 million in South Vietnam and 14 million in North Vietnam as I remember it. We thought we were going to win the war by attrition. If we just fought them off and killed more than they could send down we would be victorious. There were some in command that wanted to send in two or three Marines divisions into North Vietnam but that didn’t happen. There was psychological warfare going on between the two of us but eventually they persevered. We tried the Peace Treaties but the North didn’t want anything to do with that. They said that the Americans had to go or they wouldn’t stop fighting. We kept building up and building up from 15,000 to 500,000 troops.

We lost 55,000 plus troops during that war. It was absolutely tragic. The country was divided because some thought that we shouldn’t be there at all. They were rioting in the streets and protesting back here. They blamed us. They blamed Sergeant Yerman and myself for not winning the war. We came home and they said nasty things about us, threw things at us and they blamed us for being the first Americans to lose a war. But, I know we didn’t lose that war. We didn’t win it but we didn’t go there to win it. We went there to win the hearts and minds of the people. We went to stabilize the government and because of that we became the generation that didn’t come home like the Army and Marines did on those Freedom trains after WWII. All throughout the country those freedom trains came home and the music was playing and people were waving those flags. Yerman and I came home on a MEDEVAC plane in the middle of the night. They put our ambulance cots on the tarmac. I remember Sergeant Yerman singing God Bless America as he laid there wounded on the plane, because he was a true patriot. We were all patriots. There were no Freedom trains waiting for us. Nobody reached out to shake our hands like they did to those WWII heroes. 

What do you remember about being on the ground that first time in Vietnam?

JC: I was certainly scared for my troops when I first arrived in Vietnam but not so much for me. I was an old grunt and had ten years in the Marines at that time. I had been in combat before in Lebanon. I fought in the mountains out there and was pretty seasoned. Vietnam was a different animal though. All of the officers in my unit were killed in Vietnam or wounded.  I was given a promotion at that time from Staff Sergeant to Second Lieutenant. It took all of about five minutes. I raised my hand and  the Colonel commissioned me as an officer. I never went to officer training or spent a day in Officer School.

 As for being on the ground over there, I think a lot of the missions in Vietnam didn’t look good at first. I had some of the best Marines with me though. Sergeant Yerman went from Corporal to Sergeant and then became my Platoon Sergeant. If you had good men to stand beside you, being in battle was okay. He helped me get on the helicopter on the last mission when we were wounded and I had lost my war dog. The guys that were with me were all wounded. It was probably our deadliest mission and without my corpsman several of those Marines would have certainly bled out. The guy who was running point for me, Niccolo, lost a leg and another Marine named Stanton lost a kidney. I was hit pretty bad. That was probably our most dangerous mission and it was the last that we ran. That mission is what got me the recommendation for the Congressional Medal of Honor. That was turned down unfortunately though and I was given the Silver Star but that is now moving forward. They are going to try to get it for me again.  

Can you take us back to some of those missions in Vietnam?

JC: We ran a lot of missions from the very first day we got to Vietnam. We executed a ship bottom search in the Nha Trang Bay, of the aircraft carrier (USS Boxer) that transported us over there. The USNS Card had been blown up by the 65th Vietnam Commandos so we were worried about limpet mines being in the harbor. We received the mission brief and I directly supervised the dive team as we searched for mines and saboteurs. Doc “Bo” Burwell was my assistant, a hospital corpsman of great repute who was definitely a man you didn’t want to mess with, but also someone you always wanted on your side. The ship was almost 1000 feet long and I took my divers down to search the entire craft. Looking back, that was an extremely dangerous mission. I was the dive master and one of my guys came loose from his buddy line only to find a school of Tiger Sharks around him. The Army Special Forces and some SEALS had a base there on that beach. 

They weren't supposed to drop any debris or garbage in the harbor while we were executing that mission as that would bring the sharks out to feed. Our ship didn’t tell the Army or Navy that we were in the water or they never got the message, and they dropped their garbage into the water. The Tiger Sharks started showing up of course. They were vicious sharks about 8 - 10 feet long with razor sharp teeth. Buddy lines joined each dive team, with one of those being a lead diver and the other a safety diver. Staff Sergeant Librado Flores had come loose from his buddy line as I mentioned, and so I gave the signal that he needed to surface. He unfortunately panicked, realizing that he was free from his line and that caused him to drift away with the current. Doc Burwell, being the lead diver, realized what was happening and swam out to secure him. He was finally able to figure out a way to get him back without him being eaten by the sharks but it was kind of scary (laughs). 

We didn’t locate any mines near our craft but the bottom of the ship was secured with wire mesh that had started rusting out along the portholes. It had rusted out coming across the Atlantic and Indian Ocean. I was concerned that some of my guys might get sucked up into that vent down there but fortunately we got them all aboard the ship and that was one of our very first missions. We moved down to Da Nang after that and did another ship search there. Nobody got hurt and that mission was successful as well. From there we headed down to Okinawa and spent some time training in a northern sector where the Marines had fought the Japanese during WWII. The area was a top of the line training ground and we made a lot of parachute jumps there. We traveled on to Vietnam to perform Operation Deckhouse II, III, and IV.  We completed those missions successfully and moved again. There was another diving mission there as well. A young Marine had been killed and his body had been blown off into the current of the Song Bé River. Our mission was to dive in and recover the body. Doc Burwell actually found what was left of this kid’s body. While we were down there on the dive we came across a bunch of unexploded ammunition. There were large projectiles and we started bringing this up to the surface for recovery.

There were 230 rounds of unexploded ammunition that we brought up and turned over to the EOD group. We were successful in bringing the Marine’s body up and that ammunition out of the water. It took us two entire days to clear that river of all the explosives that were there. I’m sure they were using it for booby traps and counter-measures. It was emplaced there by the VC (Viet Cong) and NVA (North Vietnamiese Army) but we made sure to destroy it all. The weather was cold and the river was swift, smelly and full of refuse. When we got in the water to get the Marine’s body one of my guys said that we might want to call it off. We hadn't found him at the time and he thought maybe we should just let this one go. I told him that there was a Marine in the water and we don’t leave a comrade behind. We were going to find him and send him home. We had to keep searching until we recovered him. It was shortly after that when Burwell found him and we brought him up to the surface so we could put him in a body bag. We sent him home to his parents. I went back to the base and continued to do patrols. We did so many patrols, in fact four to five a day, and many of those we received contact.

What was the toughest thing about fighting the NVA?

JC: I had known about the NVA and Viet Cong because I studied guerilla warfare for a long time. I knew a lot of their tactics concerning booby traps and counter-measures. We studied all of that when we went through the jungle school in Okinawa. I knew the basics of why they were fighting, what their goals were socio-politically and how they intended to demoralize the Americans to make us go home. They didn’t beat us back though because we had the best soldiers, Marines and sailors there. The Communists believed in why they were fighting though. I’m not sure if they thought they were defending their country or their friends but they definitely had a strong belief in the “why.” While we were out there we worked with the Air Force, the Navy SEALs, and Green Berets. The Special Forces units were emplaced in the villages and had bases in enemy territory. There was no prejudice against any branch of service even though as Marines we always think we are the best. We helped each other out however we could. The Army would give us things that we didn’t have since the Marine Corps doesn’t get a lot of new gear or supplies.

The food out there wasn’t the best but the Army would share what they had with us and that always meant a lot to me. I had made a lot of friends with the guys on the Green Beret side of the house. I’d been serving for ten years in the Corps and was just trying to support my guys in any way I could. I told you before that I became a new lieutenant through my battlefield commision. I knew old senior chiefs, Navy chiefs, Army sergeant majors, and I got along well with all of them. When I became a boot lieutenant I took a little heat from all those other enlisted men (laughs). I took it easily though and they were right because I didn’t have any schooling as an officer. They would tell me that I was a lieutenant and because of my new status as an officer I didn’t know “a damn thing (laughs).” The Army Special Forces guys helped me in any way possible but when I got to be a boot lieutenant it didn’t matter how long I had been in, according to them. They gave me a hard time, saying I was a rookie. It actually helped me learn as an officer because they had trained a lot of their newly commissioned officers on how to lead. I used to go to their A Team base because there were things there we didn’t get but I needed. They helped me get new weapons and supplies but in order to do that I had to take some heat any time I came around as the new lieutenant on the block (laughs). 

The Green Berets would take care of our guys often. There were many times that they would give me jungle utilities because our stuff would get torn up in the jungle and the Marine Corps wouldn’t replace it. Whatever they had they shared with me and that always meant a lot. They would give us a lot of supplies and they had a warehouse full of equipment which was something we didn’t have. They needed those supplies but they figured that the Marines were their brothers and we were all fighting together. They would give us pallets full of jungle boots and utilities. Unfortunately, one day a group of my well meaning troops went over and raided their armory (laughs). I found out about it and the Green Berets told us they knew we did it. I got the weapons from my men and took them back to the Green Berets. Another thing I remember really well is they had a group of augmentees called the Montagnards.

I knew them pretty well and they would run patrols against the North Vietnamese along with the Viet Cong. They were good soldiers and the Green Berets would equip as well as train them. I was there for that some times and saw them come in from patrols. I’d see them bring in their dead and wounded, often. They were hard fighters and were not to be trifled with. They did have quite a few come to the States after the war. It’s hard to understand the atrocities committed unless you were over there and I know the Montagnards felt that, in being native to the country. There were days when my team would come across villages after the VC (Viet Cong) had been there. The Viet Cong would take the village chief, hang him up, slice him down from sternum to stomach then leave his guts hanging out and let the pigs eat his entrails. They would rape the women and recruit the young men to fight for them. Then, they would go off into the jungle and celebrate. I came upon that often and even though it wasn’t my mission we would track them down. We would assassinate them in their hideouts. They would have their cooking pots still over the fires, still celebrating what they had done in the villages.

I had my dog with me and he would smell out their encampment. We would perform those raids at night. My dog was able to track them by the scent of their feces and urine. He could pick up where they had relieved themselves and was able to get a scent. We became animalistic in our way with understanding and becoming the jungle. Me and my men ate one meal a day. The brutality the enemy expended upon these native villagers is what gave me the drive to hunt these awful men. I would blow up their boats and do whatever I needed to do to sabotage their plans. We would move at night because that’s when we did our best work. We called in artillery on these camps and then would raid them shortly thereafter. We were experts at jungle warfare. It wasn’t long after that we were on the lines at Khe Sanh and fighting hand to hand. My men didn’t starve but there wasn’t much food. When the rains came we couldn’t get in any air support, morphine, or the dead and wounded out. All we could do was hang on for dear life. 

The Marines are students of history. We live from one generation to the next and still proudly carry the same globe and anchor as our forefathers. I was in the same Marine Corps alongside men who’d seen action at Iwo Jima and Guadalcanal. I heard them talk and tell their stories. When Hanoi Hannah said we couldn’t hold Khe Sanh I told my guys we could and we would. I told them they were all Recon Marines and I knew we didn’t have a lot but we needed to fight with that lineage in mind. I also let them know they could retreat if they wanted. I told them I had a wife and son back home but I was staying to fight even if that meant losing my life. I wanted my guys to know that just because I was an officer that I wasn’t going to the rear. I was there to command my troops and bring as many as I could home.

What do you remember about being a leader in those situations?

JC: Leadership was an important element of my career. When I first arrived in Vietnam I had three men on my newly-assigned team. I was a sergeant and I trained those guys up. There was a platoon sergeant with us but he had been hurt so I was made the acting Platoon Sergeant. We went off to Panama, the Virgin Islands, and other various places for jungle warfare school. It was run by Army Special Forces cadre. We went to as many schools as we could possibly get into. I took 19 guys to scuba school in Florida. We also sent some to jump school. I had already been to a lot of these schools but I was trying to train with my men. We trained for a long period of time and that would help us weed out those who couldn't make it. It was not for everybody. We taught them demolitions as well and it was a hard-nosed unit by the time I was done training them. They had to run everywhere they went. I worked the men until 2200 every single night and we got them up early to go for runs and do PT (physical training). We did parachute jumps and long swims before we ever even went to Vietnam. Once we culled out the Marines who weren’t going to make it through the training, we ended up with six platoons. They were all heavily qualified men, some of the best of the best. 

Our group was made up of men from the Army, Navy and the Marine Corps. It was a phenomenal unit. We decided that we couldn’t take all six platoons to Vietnam so the commander picked two platoons that would deploy first. He would then bring the remaining four platoons 30 days after but unfortunately that never happened. I was picked to go with the first platoon. Lieutenant O'Donnell took the 5th platoon and Captain Jordan was the Detachment Commander. He was a young guy that couldn't swim. He was a nice enough guy but quite honestly the wrong one for the job. O'Donnell was killed half way through the deployment. He was shot in the heart but his platoon did well and I picked up his unit after he was killed. We got another lieutenant to replace him. I was still pretty much in command because Captain Jordan had been transferred. I was running patrols with 5th platoon which was my platoon. It wasn’t long after I received the commission where I was running the entire detachment. 

We were constantly on very dangerous missions. They sent us out to find a B-57 aircraft which had crashed in the mountains.  I did an air survey the day before.  It was a very large aircraft that was outfitted to carry a nuclear bomb. The Air Force wanted it back. My Colonel called me in and gave me permission to take a couple of guys. I had about six men including myself.  They dropped us in since we couldn't parachute in. We were about ten feet above the elephant grass and we had to drop down into that foliage. It wasn’t really that far. We checked the aircraft and were looking for the pilot. We didn’t find anything of the nuclear type. I had been to chemical warfare school so I pretty much knew what to look for as far as remnants of anything nuclear or biological. They were supposed to pick me up the next day because they had told us it was a one day mission. 

The pick up was the next day but the monsoon season had started and the choppers couldn’t fly so they couldn't pick us up for the extraction. I had to tell my men that we should probably stay there and take our chances behind the enemy lines. I didn’t know whether the aircraft had been shot down or what. I also didn’t know if they had jettisoned the nuclear bombs out there. The entire area out there was rice patties and flat ground. If I was the pilot I would have probably disarmed the nukes and deposited them in the rice paddies. We didn't find anything on the aircraft upon our search. We never knew what happened or whether it was armed with nuclear weapons. I had to tell my guys they weren’t going to come pick us up and make the decision to either stay and take our chances or try to get home. 

I knew where our home base was and took out my compass along with my map. I told the point man to get us home. He stood, adjusted his pack and kept moving. It was five days later that we got home. It was ten miles to get back to base. We had to cross two rivers and patrol through two minefields. One of my men dropped out along the way back saying he couldn’t make it. I made him get up and pushed him up the hill. I told him he could make it and I would kill him first before I left him behind. It’s one of those things you say in the moment because I knew that I was not going to leave anyone behind. We patrolled through enemy territory and swam the river. One of our men almost drowned in the river but I was able to retrieve him. We crossed the two mine fields covered in Bouncing Bettys (anti-personnel mines). I had my dog with me and we made it around those Bouncing Betty’s thanks to him. We had just made it through one minefield and my scout found another mine. At that point we were ambushed and got into a firefight. Fortunately, we were able to repel the enemy and keep moving. We finally got to the point where  the trucks came from Phu Bai to pick us up. 

We were out there for five days with no food or water. It was a tough, frightening mission. There were a lot of things that happened out there including a grown male tiger staring us down. My point man held us up and I thought we were getting ready for contact. He finally motioned us forward and I asked him what he’d seen. He told me it was a full grown tiger and he didn’t make a move until the tiger backed away. I came back with exactly 34 leeches on my body from being in the water every day. We stayed on watch at night under the rain covered by only ponchos. The river got a little more swift and almost swept us away.  It was dangerous territory and the NVA knew the territory too. We got through that sector intact and I prayed that God would get me to the river because I knew that would bring us back to some sort of safety.  If I could get to the river I knew we could make it back whole. There were so many dark clouds and the water was so heavy that there wasn't much light.  I knew that if we could just get a break in the clouds to show me where the river was, we could cross. The river was swollen and about seven miles away. I prayed and prayed. We made it and we were picked up by friendly troops. I know that some of the younger guys wondered if they were going to make it home. They believed in me though and that we would get out of the situation.  Five days was a very long time to be in enemy territory with no food or water. 

What do you remember about the bullets flying by? Did the training just kick in?

JC: The bullets were flying all around and we just pretty much ignored them. When you are in command you cannot worry about your own personal safety. You are aware of the danger but you have to keep moving. My team was trained as a team and I would be the first one to open fire when we received contact. Everyone knew what they were supposed to do at that moment. I had a M60 machine gun and a 40mm grenade launcher on me. Each one of the men carried a shotgun and M16’s or M14’s. I would open fire when we received contact and my men would set off a claymore to create that immediate resistance. We had trained to make sure if we were up against 30 or 40 guys we would catch them with crossfire. The heavy machine gun would go down the long axis, intercepting the enemy and each man would throw a grenade. They would alternate between cursing and throwing a hand grenade (laughs). It worked pretty smoothly. 

We would create more chaos than the enemy could handle. We would smoke the ambush sight and the enemy would panic. They would often run into us. It was violent and I can tell you some of my guys enjoyed it. They would say things that had nothing to do with the mission and they enjoyed the sight of blood. I wondered oftentimes if they might be losing their humanity.  You can never love violence or you might just cross a mental barrier that is too hard to come back from. We killed 23 on that day and on the way back nobody laughed or patted themselves on the back. We were stoic and I think everyone had that thousand yard stare. We were sent from there to Khe Sanh which was a very nasty place and our job was to hold the enemy back at all costs. We ran air strikes on them and pushed patrols constantly. We had to keep the enemy from attacking the base. 

We had maybe seven or eight men with dogs and we did that day after day. We would redeploy back to base for a couple of days to get resupplied and then head back out mostly at night. That way we would catch them out at night and drop artillery on them. Sometimes we would drop 175s or 155s and then attack them with our small arms. It was so violent. I thought some of my guys might have gone over the edge. I didn’t want them to get so used to killing. I didn’t want them to take it home with them because I knew they needed to leave all that behind at a certain point. It was unfortunate that when we got home the citizens brought it to us. They called us baby killers and nasty things I can’t even repeat. We were doing what the Commander in Chief wanted us to do. The Marines are that breed that when the President says to go we saddle up and go. I don’t care if you’re a Republican or Democrat. President Eisenhower sent me to war when I was 18 years old and I never even thought to question it.  When he said go we went. I went to war under Kennedy and with Nixon as well. I received a personal letter from President NIxon when he was on his way to China in 1972.  

He was the first American President to go to China. My wife and I happened to be in Hawaii at the time when he landed. My job was to make sure he didn’t get assasinated. He stayed on our base and I was a Captain at the time. I did the best I could as his security detail and at the end of my mission he sent me a personal letter. He thanked mee for helping him out. I never met him but came pretty close. He stayed at the General's home while he was there.  Kissenger was there and the Secretary of State Rogers was there. Kissienger was in charge of the security detail. One funny thing about Kissenger was that he wouldn’t go anywhere without a light to read by. The vehicle that he rode in had to have a light in the car. He always had something in his hand to read. We had to worry about him being out and about town. He went to Honolulu to get a gift for his son and we had to make sure that security stayed with him at all times. The President would want to go out and swim on the beach so we had to make sure he was safe doing that as well. We had snipers in the mountains protecting him and the Coast Guard protecting him as well. I was part of all of that. The CIA and FBI were there with our team as well. The state department security was there too. I was the guy running the base assets and it was a heft responsibility for a captain. 

How many missions had you been on when that fateful mission came up?

JC: It’s hard to say how many missions we ran. There are people that said 50 or 60. We ran missions for the Army, Navy,  and Air Force. The Marine missions were probably in the neighborhood of 60 on the ground and in enemy territory. We would usually go out for several days. Five days to complete the mission and come back for two days get cleaned up and refit our gear. We would clean weapons and then we go back out again. There were some people that said we were over there for a 100 missions but that might have been for the whole detachment. We had  platoons that had gone over and the 3rd platoon came over in June or July. I had good NCOs which I had known from the stateside. I commanded O'Donell’s unit when he got killed like I mentioned before. His guys pretty much lost it. 

They were good men but they loved O'Donnell, who was a great man and a good Christian. They wanted vengeance and I had to settle them down. I told them that we had a long way to go and vengeance couldn’t be taken in one day. We would take it out on the battlefield. They started drinking pretty heavily and it was hard to keep them out of trouble because of that. I was a Sergeant and not an officer at the time. They knew they trusted me and knew I was sincere. I finally was able to calm them down and they quit the foolishness. They were allowed two beers a day and they found ways to scrounge up other stuff. They would get into scuffles with other units and I put a clamp down on that. I was not going to have them desecrate the memory of those fine officers. I knew them all and loved them all.

Were you glad to receive that commission?

JC: I was glad I received the commission because I had put in for it years ago and they had turned me down. I put in twice and was extremely qualified. They told me I was considered but not selected. They weren’t looking that hard for black officers back in those days. When I got commissioned it was a good day for my guys because I had been with them from day one. Now we were pretty close to leaving our tour in Vietnam but they had me as an officer. I made sure they got their mail, got paid, and got fed properly. I did the things I knew should be done because the guys trusted me. They supported me and helped me out a lot. Yerman was promoted from corporal to sergeant. He had two bronze stars, Combat V’s, two Purple Hearts, and he was with me when we got on the aircraft to go home. I had some good help from the enlisted guys. We fought all over Vietnam. We fought through four amphibious landings up north below the DMZ and  each of those landings would last five - ten days and we would come back to the ship.  We would tend to the wounded and ship the dead back home. We then went south and fought in some of the bloodiest battles in Vietnam. We spent three months in Khe Sanh fighting out of foxholes, running patrols, and dodging rockets. It was bloody.

Were they well equipped up there?

JC: The 324B Division (NVA) tried to come down and take Khe Sanh. The French had lost it in 1954. They thought they were running us Americans out but they didn’t realize that the Marines were there. During the night you would hear them with their loud speakers telling us “American Yankees you go home.” It was psychological warfare all the time. They had a lady named Hanoi Hannah and she would be broadcasting “Marines you die!” They would play silly music and tell us to go home. The guys were hearing that and some of my guys would yell some profanity that is unrepeatable, at Hanoi Hannah. The enemy would fight through the lines with a group they called sappers. The sappers would blow themselves up and blow holes in the barbed wire. Their reinforcements would then run through and blow horns along with bugles. Our guys were in foxholes with entrenchment tools and they would attack the enemy fighters coming through in hand to hand combat. Our support had flares coming down and those would light up the battlefield so that we could see them.  

It was surreal. You would see the Marines fighting with the entrenchment shovels and the enemy coming through the barbed wire. Explosions were constantly going off and the flares floating down from the clouds. You could hear the screams of humans yelling and dying.  We had to hold on because they weren’t going to run us out of there. We knew about Iwo Jima and we grew up learning about Chosin Reservoir. You don’t run Marines out. Our Marines were young and even though they were dropping rockets on us we didn’t stop fighting. Those young men would pick up the entrenchment tools and run towards the enemy. They would yell “Come and get me. Come get some.” It was a proud moment for me. I saw nobody running away from the front lines. I didn’t see one Marine retreat. They were all fighting forward to try and stop the enemy from coming through. The enemy was hopped up on Opium. It was very close combat. I took the Marines to the rear that had been wounded but other than that they all stayed at the front and fought. We would do it again that night and the next night because Marines do not quit. 

I was there at Khe Sanh for 3 months. We didn’t fight every night for three months but the threat of it was always there. I remember when we had a base at a place called Dung Ha that was 30 miles from Khe Sanh. When the threat of us almost getting overrun was becoming a reality the Marines and Sailors from Dung Ha formed a group. It was called Roadrunners or something like that. They took the cooks, bakers, typewriters, corpsmen and came in on transport trucks. They picked up grenades and rifles to fight their way all the way to Khe Sanh. The trucks they had were blown up sometimes and they would have to walk and run all the way to Khe Sanh. Those men who were not grunts but man did they fight. They were here to save us. They got out of their vehicles and fought on the front lines. They came up to Khe Sanh and fought like infantrymen. They brought back more guys every day. We didn't have enough troops up there to hold off an entire division of NVA. These men were just Marines who came up to reinforce us as riflemen. We used to laugh at the cooks and bakers before the war but not after that because we saw what they were capable of in battle. The guys like the Pioneers and Seabees would fight until the regular regiments could come in to dig in and hold them off. I quit kidding the cooks and the bakers. They were riflemen to me. Those things warmed my heart because we were all fighting together. 

Was the last night on that mission the scariest for you?

JC: I don't ever remember being overcome with fear. I don’t remember ever being so scared that I couldn't function. I think if someone tells you they aren’t scared in those situations at all though they’re probably lying. I just wasn't scared to the point of not being able to function. I was aware of what was going on and had seen many people die. I was just able to overcome that fear and to do what I needed to do to take care of my men. I remember one particular moment at Khe Sanh that I was trying to get my guys reorganized. Khe Sanh was basically a fort. I was going somewhere when I saw this corpsman in the dark. We were taking care of our wounded. I said, “Doc, I’m going to need you. You need to come with me.” We came around this curve and could see guys cleaning up. The Corpsman said to me, “Lieutenant, I’m just a little tired. Can I sit down for a minute?” I told him that he could because there seemed to be a lull in the combat. I said, “Have a seat.” 

We were waiting for a second attack because sometimes they came back just when you thought the fighting was over. You were always prepared and had things ready for that next attack when the sun came up. The corpsman was sitting there and we heard the bugles off in the distance, the enemy call. I told the doc that they might be coming again. He’d just told me he was a little tired but I told him I was going to need him. He didn’t answer me because he’d died right there at my feet. I didn’t know that the kid had been hit. He didn’t say anything about it. He had just told me he was tired and wanted to sit down for a few minutes. He didn’t get up. I didn’t know he was wounded. He didn’t cry or cry out but he just sat down and died at my feet. I blamed myself because I should have known. The battle started again right after that moment of introspection, and it seemed like it never ended.

How do you move past those moments?

JC: You don't move past those moments. I see him still today in my dreams. I am there mentally and see I can see him sitting there. When I give a speech there are times I have an empty chair there for the young corpsman. I don't ever forget those guys and at my age of 82 years old those battles are still vivid. They are in my memory and that always seems to awaken me at night. I spent a year at a hospital in Bethesda and it was tough there because the battles I fought were so brutal. They were so heart wrenching I couldn’t feel empathy for other guys. It was beginning to dawn on me what was the point of the war. I grieve to this day for my men who I fought alongside. I have crosses with the names of all the men that I lost in my unit in my backyard. My wife and I put them up and built a memorial for them back there.  My war dog's name  is even on there. I trained those guys and felt a distinct responsibility for them.

I promised those guys I would keep fighting and never let them down. I told them I was there with them and would never leave them. I didn't either. I went all the way through that tour with them until the last battle and I was the final man to board that helicopter. I went to see the mother of one of the first guys killed in my unit and tell her how sorry I was that I didn’t bring her son home. She forgave me. I felt so much guilt and I carried that with me for a long time. It was difficult to talk to her. I had dinner with her and that was a tough one for me. At the moment, I had no idea what it was like to lose a son. Now, I do of course. I was staying at a hotel around the corner and when I left her I went to a bar with a giant fireplace. There were a bunch of Irish guys in there all half drunk singing Irish songs. 

They were really loud and having a great time. I was just sitting there in my uniform since I had just come from seeing Mrs. Scanlon. I was thinking how far I had come and I was the only black guy in there. One of the guys from the table came over and asked if I was alone. I told him I was there visiting one of my casualty’s families. They told me they were sorry and asked if I was a Marine. The group invited me over to sit with them to have some fun. I told them I didn’t really want to because it had been a long day. One of the guys told me I was a candy ass and they proceeded to all come over to my table (laughs). They all sat there singing to me. I had learned some of those Irish songs in school and I tried singing with them. It was a good night and they were great guys. They thanked me for what we were doing over in Vietnam and I went from being sad to almost immediately cheery. They were drunk singing those Irish songs and they weren’t good singers. They made my night. We all had a good time. I said goodbye and went to my hotel room. The next morning the driver came and picked me up because I was headed overseas again, this time to Europe. I think nights like that were somewhat healing for me, in that I realized there were some people out there that cared.

 Did you run missions with the CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) in Vietnam?

JC: We had a POW (Prisoner of War) mission with the CIA that had been authorized by President Johnson. The CIA found a former prison guard named Lap who was an 18 or 19 year old Vietnamiese kid. He was a prison guard that had American POWs in that prison. He thought they weren’t treating the American POWs well. Lap escaped and the CIA picked him up and he was eventually brought to me for safekeeping. He stayed in my tent with me. I threatened him before we went out that if he lied to us I would kill him. He seemed like a nice enough kid though and we took him on the mission with us. He fought alongside us. We didn’t get the POWs on that mission which was devastating. I got my first Purple Heart on that mission and my first Bronze Star earlier in the tour and now that mission is being looked at as a reason to give me the Medal of Honor.  

We found the camp and we killed the guards but there were no POWs there. Our team tore it down so it wouldn’t be turned back into a prison. The chopper that came to pick us up couldn’t land because of the thickness of the jungle. The crew on the helicopter had to drop a hoist in to get us. Yurman and I were the last ones on the ground. He didn’t want to go up without me.  He wanted me to go up so he could stay and fight them on the ground. I told him “absolutely not.”  He went up and it seemed like forever before that hoist came down to get me. I was on the ground hooking and jabbing. I could see the enemy running across and was doing the best I could to take out everyone who came across my path. I was throwing grenades and firing as much as I could because they were trying to shoot down our helicopter. The rest of my men were able to get in the chopper and I killed as many as I could. When I looked up the hoist wasn’t coming down because apparently the pilot thought that when Yurman got on board he was the last man.  Yerman went up to tell the pilot that I was still on the ground so he couldn't leave. 

There was discussion about fuel and Yerman then insisted with his rifle that he wasn’t going to leave without me. The hoist started coming back down and I looked up to see my guys staring down at me. They had dislodged the windows out of the chopper’s portholes and were firing rounds to cover me. The shell casings were dropping and I was firing as much as I could to keep the enemy off me. I still had plenty of ammunition at the moment. I got the hoist harness around me and I only had God to help me there on the ground. I believe that even though there was no one there physically to help my God as standing with me. He helped me put that hoist on because there was no way I could have done it by myself as it’s a two man job. When people ask me if I think God is real I just explain how I got up in that helicopter. I had on all the gear and with all the fighting going on I still got the harness on by myself.  

I started getting pulled up toward the chopper and the hoist stopped. I was spinning around, everyone was firing, and there was smoke coming out of the helicopter. I thought I was dying and headed to hell. When I got up close to the chopper I got hit by a round and was bleeding all over the place. They pulled me in and I realized I’d been hit in the face. I looked down and saw blood everywhere. They laid me down and my Corpsman who was a Navy SEAL started to examine me. They patched me up and we headed back to our base camp. It was a sad thing because we didn’t rescue any POWs.  I was ready for the moment where I could say to those prisoners, “My name is Lieutenant Jim Capers and I have come to take you home.”  I didn’t get to say those words.  When the war was over in ‘74 and the POWs came home I always wondered if those POWs made it. 

When your very last mission came up what do you remember about that?

JC: It was four straight days of fighting on that last mission. We had contact every single day.  It seemed like we were constantly in a firefight and I lost a man the first day. He got hit in the head and they MEDEVAC’d him out. The resupply brough more ammunition. I didn’t realize it was going to be that big of a fight. I had ten men and my machine gun with me and that was it. I had plenty of grenades and they came at us with everything we had so we took them out.  We were very good at that time and it was April of ‘67.  We had landed in April of ‘66 so by that time we had a good team. We fought for four days with ten men on our side and my war dog King.

We went out to a group called a Combined Action Company. These guys were sent out to live in the villages to win the hearts and minds of the villagers. They would come over to educate the villagers and run patrols. They would help them protect their own land. The Army had the Green Berets out there doing that and we had the Marines out there doing that too. It was a concept of winning their hearts and minds but I’m not sure who came up with that.  I guess some genius upstairs thought if we trained them and showed them we were the good guys they’d fight alongside us instead of against us. We got out there with the CAC guys at night and this was a complete operation. I was briefed and we left that camp with intelligence on enemy activity in the sector. We were now going to take care of the guys who had been attacking the villages. We were supposed to attack a NVA base camp on the side of the mountain. That base camp was there to provide food and other kinds of things to the NVA.  

You couldn’t see it from our side of the mountain but our recon element told us it was there. They were building up to attack the city and they did attack it that next year. We were supposed to slow them down. That was my mission. I went out there and walked in with a group of grunts. We walked through a rice paddy that night when we left the base and all hell broke loose. There were tracers all over the place and I didn’t let my guys get engaged. They were fighting against another group and I wasn’t sure who they were. We held up in a Vietnameses graveyard. There was a lot of cement there and we spent the night in it because the concrete formed a protective hedge around us. We watched the fight and when the sun came up we saw a group of Marines coming towards our position. We linked up with them because they didn’t know we were there. We joined up with them and we fought alongside their element. There were three rifle companies, a company of artillery and those other units immediately realized we were different. When we went out on a mission we looked kind of scary (laughs). I think they felt fortunate to have us fighting by their side. 

We were in contact with the enemy and we guided our other units into the battle space. We fought our way to Phu Loc where there was an even larger NVA element and they set off a group of claymore mines as soon as we engaged them. That is when we all started getting hit. I was hit many times. My right leg was broken and my left leg was fractured. They set off a Claymore and I still have shrapnel fragments in my legs. It was a nasty battle. We killed so many of them but they kept coming. Yurman was hit at some point and came crawling over to me. There were so many of my guys that were hit and that’s when I realized my war dog was dead. Yurman told me that everyone was hit and that we could still fight but not move forward. I made the decision to drop everything we had on our position. I had my map out and called the artillery in. I knew that we were in trouble and knew that the artillery guys would give us 50 meters of grace but that might not be enough. They wouldn't drop it right on us and I knew that so I gambled. They dropped all kinds of stuff and then the phantoms came in to blow the side of the mountain up. This was a plus for us. 

It was hard to hear or think because everyone was yelling and screaming. Stanton my M79 man got hit and lost a kidney. He fell back on me and was bleeding from all his orifices. I reached around his neck to take his dog tags because I thought he was dead. I couldn’t see anything but blood. He said, “I can still fight if you just give me a rifle.” My guys always know that in our line of work we have to keep the fire burning. We couldn’t get overrun. If they were too severely wounded the corpsman wouldn't treat them as harshly as that may seem. There was no time for that. The corpsman would treat the guys that could still fight. I gave Stanton a M14 and he started fighting. 

He was one of the ones that wrote a witness statement for the battle of Phu Loc and that is for the Medal of Honor. I did the best I could. My radio man and my corpsman were hit. It was a scramble to get everyone out and get evacuated. I was hurting very badly and I saw how brave my guys were so that inspired me. They would not have captured us because we would have fought them to the death. We were able to get to the evacuation site and carry the wounded there. I had blood seeping out of my boots. I was a black officer and my corpsman was a white guy from Alabama. He ran through whatever hostile fire and gave me a shot of morphine. He didn’t see a black guy there, just someone he needed to help. He told me to stay down so I wouldn't get hit. I knew I had to get up to fight. The idea of him running through all of that and risking his life to jump on me was a truly amazing action. You can see why I could never just think of all white people as “bad.” They saved my life on a few occasions. That corpsman passed away a few years ago.  

I did almost get transferred once by a Major that came into our area of operations. I had no idea who this guy was when he showed up at Khe Sanh. When a chopper went down in our sector we had to send part of our detachment in on a rescue mission. An E-7 in our camp came up to me and asked if I needed help with support. He said he had squads that could help on our mission. We sent out a rescue squad at night time to attempt this rescue operation. I went to the command bunker to find out what was going on with the mission. I was a combat guy with my men outside the gates and on the lines. I needed to make sure my men were alright.  I took over the radio and made sure my team knew their route. They swiftly moved down the road, while staying out of sight, and rescued the major and all his troops from the downed helicopter. They came riding down the road through the gates and we slammed those gates as fast as we could when they got back (laughs). The major came and thanked me for saving his troops. I had all those men who were saved with my guys that night so they could have a few beers and relax (laughs). The Major asked me who I was and I told him I was Lieutenant Capers. He wanted to know what I was doing here and why I was in charge. I had brought the major into the captain's quarters so he probably thought it a bit precarious that I was in such a high command for being a lower ranking officer, and a black officer at that.  He called me in to talk and he told me he was there to make an assessment.  

He wanted to know if we thought Khe Sanh could hold because the news they had been receiving wasn’t very good. He was making the trip to see if we should get out of there. I told him Marines don’t evacuate or retreat. He wanted to know what I was thinking and I told him if we had supplies we could to hold the base. He wanted to know how we could possibly hold the ground with two divisions attacking, us being surrounded, and needing supplies.  We talked for quite awhile that night, going back and forth on the tactics and logistics of the situation. I went back to my hooch finally, late that night, and he called me back over again that morning.  He told me to sit down and that he had radioed back to his headquarters. He informed me that they were pulling me out and I should be prepared to evacuate this base tomorrow when he took his troops out. 

I asked him if he was pulling the detachment out and he said that they were just pulling me out. He said I was going to be going back with him. He asked how long I had been with this company and I told him since 1966. I let him know I was there for the duration of my unit’s deployment. He said my duration was over and I was going back with him.  I went back to my quarters and Yurman came over and sat down on my rack.  He asked what happened. I told him that I had been relieved. He said he thought it was about that time since I had received a commission because an officer typically only spent six months in the field. They pull you out and give you another job after that time but that wasn’t my deal.  When I became an officer I was there to command my troops. I told Yurman not to worry about me. I would be okay. 

The next morning a C-130 came in and I walked out to the Air Strip at Khe Sanh. The Major had all his men ready to go and I stood there next to him, waiting on the plane to land. He asked me where my gear was. I told him I didn’t have any gear (laughs). He told me I needed my gear to go with me because there was still a war going on at Dung Ha.  I told him I wasn’t going to Dung Ha.  He said, “I gave you a direct order to go with me. Go get your gear.”  I told him if my troops were going I would go but I wouldn’t go without my troops. He said, “Dammit, Lieutenant can’t you see what's going on out there. You aren’t going to survive this. Khe Sanh won’t hold. I’m giving you a chance to live. Just take my hand and let’s go.” I saluted him and turned around and walked away. I was a Second Lieutenant. I wanted to die with my troops. He got on the plane and left. It was years later that I saw the Major. He was a Lieutenant Colonel. My wife and I had left the hospital on leave to take a drive out to the countryside. We saw this little yellow Volkswagen beeping at us. We pulled over and it was that Major.  He said, “Lieutenant Capers I heard you were dead. They told me you were killed. It’s so good to see you.” My wife, Dottie, was just sitting in the car. The Major told me he lived just a few miles down the road and invited us to come visit to meet his wife and daughter. We drove down there to his home and he entertained us. He told stories about him threatening to court martial me for not getting on that C-130 that day. Dottie was sitting there listening to everything and just smirking. He said he just couldn't see how we survived it and that it must not have been as bad as they thought. The next year in 1968 they really had been hit hard but I was home and in the hospital by that time. The Major started telling this story about ordering me to leave and I wouldn’t leave.

My wife was just looking at me because I had written all those letters telling her I would do what I could to come home. I had written, “I am going to survive and I love you.”  He was sitting there telling her I had a chance to leave and I didn’t take it. When we were driving home that night my wife didn't say one word. I asked her if something was wrong. She replied that in my letters I had told her I would do anything in the world to come home. I had a chance to come home but I stayed with my troops. She asked, “Didn't I mean that much to you?’  I told her “no” that indeed she didn’t mean as much as my troops at the time, and I wasn’t going to lie to her at that moment. World War III started (laughs). I told her I was just doing the right thing by not leaving my men. She reminded me that we had stood before Reverend Jessie and said our vows.  We swore to those vows. She yelled, “I find out now that you chose to stay. You didn’t have to stay and get wounded. You could have come home.”  I told her, “Yes, I did sweetheart. I chose that because I couldn’t live with myself if I had left my men. I couldn't have left Khe Sanh and my team.  They deserved to have a good leader and I couldn't leave them.” It went from bad to worse when I said that and eventually due to my PTSD we got a divorce.  

She took me back when I came home from Europe.  I apologized because we had a child with special needs and I knew I couldn't leave my son. I remember I called her from Scotland and I told her I was sorry and I always loved her. I was upset because of my actions and I had requested orders to go to Hawaii. I asked her if she would go with me. She told me she would go anywhere in the world with me. She told me she never stopped loving me but that she was just angry.  We got the baby and jumped in the car to drive four days across the country.  We drove through Texas and stayed in little hotels and ran out of gas a few times on that road trip; but we were happy. I spent two days as director of the military school there in Hawaii. The President flew in to our base and things went bad. I was relieved of my duties and sent home. It was Christmas Eve of 1972 and we lived in a hotel. When we had arrived in Hawaii they had threatened to kill my wife and my son. That was the reason I was relieved of duty.  They thought if I had been killed it would have turned into a big racial thing. I was a Captain at the time and the Colonel told me to get my wife ready to leave. The plane would take her and my son to another island. I went home and told her that there were so many things happening since the President had visited.  

We knew several of the Secret Service guys because they would come to my house to talk often. When I told her that the General wanted her to leave to safety she explained why she didn’t want to leave. She said, “You know sweetheart, when we decided to get a divorce way back when I didn’t know if I would ever see you again. I was hurt then because you chose your men over me. When we got back together we decided it would be until our dying day as it should’ve been the whole time. I am not going anywhere.”  This was one of the bravest things I had ever heard. She told me if they came for us we would be together and she wasn’t leaving. I went back and told the Colonel. I wrote a letter resigning my commission. I didn’t want to insult the Marine Corps but if my wife or child was harmed I would hunt whoever it was down and kill everyone. The Colonel didn’t accept my letter of resignation but put it in his drawer. He told me I couldn't talk to him that way. I let him know my wife was going to stay with me. They decided if Dottie wasn’t going to leave they would have the Secret Service protect us. 

They would live in my house with us. I had cars parked all along my street watching my position. My wife would take my son to school and she would have a car in front of her along with a car behind her. One morning when the colors went up she stopped and got out of the car because she was a patriot. She wanted to honor the colors. The Secret Service men didn’t know what was going on and they all rushed the car to see if everything was alright (laughs). Then, I remember one night a cat got into my trash can and the Secret Service guys came running with their guns drawn because of the noise (laughs). We had a couple scares but most of them were minor.  I eventually took the orders to go back home to Quantico and we stayed together until she closed her eyes at 2:21 in the afternoon on June 28, 2009. I took her wedding ring off and put it in my pocket. I kissed her goodbye just then and I told her I would see her in heaven. 

 Why do you think you’ve been looked over when it comes to the Medal of Honor?

JC: I’m not Mr. Personality (laughs). In 1966, when I was commissioned, I was the first black officer in the history of Recon or Special Operations. People didn’t really know me and they thought I had received the promotion just because I was black which was ridiculous. When you choose a man to promote you pick the best guy you can for combat and you don’t base it on color. If anything they would’ve not promoted me because I was black. There were some guys that were jealous. The Recon Association picked the best officer in the history of Reconnaissance and they picked me a few years ago. They chose me as the best team leader, best corpsman, and best communicator. I think some guys were just envious of me. They didn’t come to my wife’s funeral or my son's funeral. I am not an easy guy to get along with I guess. 

I did my job back in the day the best I possibly could. There were some guys who didn't see me in the same light as they saw the white officers. I didn't go to OCS or college. I went to High School and my education came when I went to Amphibious Warfare School in the Marine Corps. I went to the University of Maryland at night when I was stationed at Fort Meade and I went there to study Psychology, History and English. I was close to getting a degree and the war started. I volunteered to go to Vietnam. I never ended up getting a degree from the University of Maryland, where I’d been attending at the time. My wife and I were stationed in Hawaii so I ended up getting a degree out there. I even went to Harvard for awhile. It was so hard for me to finish school after being overseas and fighting so much. I just couldn’t sit still in the classroom.  

When you came home was it hard to get over some of the demons?

JC: I started back up at the University of Maryland but I was torn between the new academic world and the world I left behind. I left behind a life that was that of being solem and bitter. I lost so many of my good friends overseas and that made it hard to sit in a classroom. The kids in those classrooms had never seen a round fired in anger. They were complaining about the war, the conduct of American fighting men and how we were murdering children. They had the First Amendment right of Freedom of speech and they were exercising that. Those students loved to give the class their opinions on the war. I was sitting there as a wounded veteran of the war and as a warrior. I would much rather have been sitting at home because I was working during the day. When I heard those comments it hurt and some of them were racially oriented. We had a lot of riots in the streets especially when Martin Luther King had been killed. There were negative things going on all over the country. I would sit there night after night and hear the commentary of these college kids, just shaking my head at their lack of wisdom. I was just trying to study and get a passing grade. I was stung by the memory of all the bodies I saw on battlefields across Vietnam. The pain that I suffered and continue to suffer in hearing those comments were from American citizens. We still had troops bleeding in war zones in Vietnam and because of that there were days when I didn't want to go back to school. When I got a homework assignment I had trouble completing it and even then I think I got relatively good grades. There was one professor that sensed there was something wrong with me and she knew I could do better. She offered her help and told me she was just as offended as by those students. 

We would talk about current events, rights, the south, the slave movement. She had our classes speak on those things as well. She came up with a program that would let the white students talk like they were black in class. They made their voices deeper because they assumed that is how we would sound. She asked the black guys to talk like they were white. It was an education for all of us and I’m not sure what I got out of that. It made us think that we can all be friends no matter what we sound like. Everyone won’t sound the same or use the street language. We determine the value of a human being by what he has learned, not always what they sound like. I learned a lot from that class. I became a bit more tolerant after that. I was going to school at the University of Maryland and that was part of the outreach program.  The instructor was from there and taught on Fort Meade. The Army paid 75% of the cost and you had to do the work. You had to show up on time and be there 3 nights a week. I did the best I could until I got orders to go to Europe. There was no time in Europe because I was aboard the ship. We had 3,000 Marines and sailors aboard that ship, the USS Wasp. I was in charge of security aboard the ship. There was quite a bit of racial tension. We went across the Atlantic and spent a year in Europe. We had some riots aboard the ship. There was a time in the Marine Corps that certain African Americans wanted to wear their hair in the afro style. The officers weren’t going to allow that because of what the regulations stated. We had a group of men who followed the Black Panthers and a lot of what happened on board that ship was just awful. 

We needed to change the culture because it was impacting everything aboard. I started a program called, “A Firing Line.” Every Sunday at one o’clock I would get everyone down in an empty compartment room on the ship. We would talk about racial tolerance and why we needed to get along. I talked the admiral into getting me a bunch of books called, “From Slavery To Freedom.” We talked about the history of the African American experience in this country, the civil war and slavery to help them understand better. I taught this program each Sunday. We would have more and more show up to hear about it. There were certain times we would have more white kids than black kids. There were some really good questions and so many of those students became good friends. One of the black kids became one of my assistant instructors and he read the books to the student body. 

The admiral gave us a certain allotment of money to buy all these books. We would be together for at least a year on this aircraft carrier and we had to learn how to get along. The issues of socio-economics and education which I had gone through helped me teach these classes. When my tour was over the admiral gave me a Navy Commendation Medal for what I had done for those men. The whole ship turned out when I walked down the plank to leave and they all saluted me as I left. It was an important lesson for us to learn how to live together while the war was still going on. The officers on board would eat in what was called the “ward room” and this also caused some racial tensions. The troops had their own mess hall. There was a group of Filipinos that lived below the ward room that were hired to be cooks and servants. They signed a contract to come to the United States to do all those things. One afternoon a young kid was in there and dropped a plate. 

One of the lieutenants that was a pilot called this kid a disparaging word. He went over and shook this kid physically, over dropping a plate. This officer that attacked him was senior to me but that didn’t matter in the scope of right and wrong. I told him he couldn't be doing that to this kid because it was just a mistake that anyone could’ve made. I had to take a stand and help this kid simply because it was the ethically upright thing to do. I had a meeting with all the Filipinos on board and I went down to their compartment where they slept and ate. They didn’t associate with the white or black sailors on the ship. To everyone else they were just servants and didn’t speak English, so that somehow made them less valuable in the eyes of most. I spent one entire evening with them and apologized to them for what the officer had said to the young kid. I told them they were heroes and that their forefathers had fought with Macarthur in WWII. I knew that they were a remarkable group of people. There had been a horrific hurricane that had hit their country and when I went down there to talk to them they asked if I could find out about their families. They hadn’t heard any information about their homeland. I went to the Red Cross and got information for them so they could find out what was going on with their families. They were incredibly grateful. They were sending half of their pay back to other families just as I was when I joined the Marines. I admired their fortitude.

What about Capers and Company?

JC: Dottie was a big part of Capers and Company and starting all that up. She and I formed that group while I was in the hospital. I had told the guys that when I got out of the hospital I would come back to visit. We had over 500 patients in that wing. When I was able to get my wheelchair I would go by and visit the various wards. I would sit with them at night and hold their hands while comforting them. There were guys that had lost legs and arms. Sometimes at night they would be talking in their sleep shouting things like, “Incoming, incoming!”  They had no one there with them and I would wheel from rack to rack telling them it was going to be okay. I did that as long as I could. I told them I was Lieutenant Capers from Recon and I had their backs. I did other things around the hospital as well. When I finally was able to leave, that was when I formed “Capers and Company.” We recruited quite a few entertainers,  a lot of them being the Army's guys from the 11th Cavalry. They agreed to help me form this USO show and I had young ladies that would sing and dance. The Army allowed us to utilize an old service club and that was where we would practice. They also gave us two old buses since the Marine Corps didn’t have anything to give me. 

The service club was perfect for practice and we used it to work on our shows. Our first show was at Bethesda with all the wounded. The Marine Corps Band was there along with singers, dancers and about 50 other people. My wife was the first lady so she would help all the young ladies out. I was the MC of the show and I sang too. I tried my hand at comedy from time to time as well. I think the men were mostly there to see the singers and dancers, though. At the end of the show we had one young man that was brought down to see it all and he was a double amputee. They brought him down on a gurney. When they played the Star Spangled Banner and the Marine Corps hymn he tried to stand up. He forgot he had no legs and almost fell off the gurney. Everyone around reached for him and there wasn’t a dry eye in the place.  This guy wanted to stand for his country with no legs. 

It was hard for me to MC that show. The troops loved it and kept coming back, making it a great success. The Army hospital at Walter Reed wanted us to come out as well. I took my singers, dancers, young ladies, and they helped set it up. We did an entire show at Walter Reed. We had so many shows that the prisons began to call us to help boost morale amongst the inmates. They particularly loved us at Jessup Prison in Maryland. My wife had the ladies on one bus and I took some of the singers with me on another bus. I got there first and my wife's bus broke down (laughs). She called to let us know and that we should start without them. I took the singers and dancers I had. I couldn’t say much about the prison since it was a maximum security prison (laughs). Not a lot of laughs to be had in that place. 

The warden had let the guys come out of their cells for a certain period of time. So there we were with one broken down bus and only some of our performers. I was trying to stall the show by singing (laughs). I sang a couple of songs and the prisoners started asking for the girls. I was looking backstage and asking if my wife showed up. She finally came in and I was never so glad to see her than I was at that moment (laughs). It was a great show. A couple of the prisoners came to see me when they got out of jail. I was in my office at Fort Meade, Maryland and I came out to find one of the guys from Bethesda there. He was standing at parade rest. I asked him what he needed and he told me that he was waiting for Lieutenant Capers. I told him that was me. He told me he had just been discharged from the hospital and he was one of the patients that had seen the show. He let me know he was headed home and just wanted to thank me. I was almost in tears because he’d waited so long to see me. He shook my hand and thanked me again. Capers and Company did so much good work. We would play wherever we could go and play all the patriotic songs. It was in an era that in spite of the war we needed to cheer these men up.

Did you feel the work you were doing with Capers and Company was vital in your own recovery?

JC: I was being haunted by the demons of violence after coming home. My wife and I were healing together. My son was blind and had special needs. He was attending the Maryland School for the Blind at the time. He was a resident student and only came home on weekends. He learned to live by himself and had tutors there at the school. He learned to read Braille and to play music. It was important for my wife and I to have outside interests. I was a martial artist who was a third degree black belt. It was something for me to commit to in my healing and keep my mind off the bad things. I was young and learning things all over again after being in the hospital. The soldiers would bring their clothes in to my wife and she would sew their uniforms for them. These young men would bring their uniforms and they would sit with her while she would sew. They would just sit and talk to her for hours. She became the mother of everyone and they all loved her. 

I started teaching martial arts and was able to acquire some training mats so we could spar. I enjoyed it plus it helped me get back in shape as well. There were a lot of young guys I taught who went on to become very good at it. Dottie and I would sit at night and work with these guys to help them improve their own lives. We were putting our lives back together along with showing other military people that you can keep your marriage whole and healthy. Believe me, we had our own hardships. We raised a child that died in my arms of appendicitis. He was in my arms at the naval hospital and I couldn't save him. That moment was when the demons started to come back. I felt guilty because I couldn't save him just like I felt guilty when my wife died of cancer. I was torn and that anger came back. I knew I wasn’t a bad person but I wanted to kill those responsible for killing my child, even though there was nobody directly to blame. I remember praying and asking God to take me, not my only child.  

But, my son closed his eyes and God took him home. I used to wonder about that because he was our only child. When I prayed and asked God not to take my child, it was like God told me to hush my mouth. He was going to take care of him because He was God. My child would never be cold or hungry. He is there in heaven with his mother and I know they are together again. I will join them eventually. I don’t have to worry about my wife having cancer or those morphine machines she was hooked up to anymore. I don’t have to worry about those painful nights because God has cured her. He has given my son sight and he can play basketball or do whatever he wants to do that he couldn’t do on this earth. He is healed. God has him sitting at his right hand.  One day He will call me home.  My mission now is to do some good on this earth while I still have time.

What was the nation like when you returned home ?

JC: The nation was kind to me when I returned from Vietnam because I demanded it be kind to me. There were people that just stepped up for me because they knew what was right and what was wrong. I remember one time I went into the officer’s club the maitre d (handles reservations) stopped me and told me I had to have a tie on to enter. He also told me he needed to see my ID card. There were people going in ahead of me with no tie or ID card. I guess because I was an African American he wanted to make sure I was an officer because that was somehow unbelievable to him. I told him I wasn’t aware of needing a tie to get in. There was a gentleman to the left of me that took off his tie and threw it at the maitre d.  He told him that he believed I was a Marine Corps officer and that I could take his tie. There was no reason for them to stop me going in to have a meal. I didn’t know this guy at all.  That was one time out of quite a few when I had to prove I was an officer. But, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. When they laid me out on the tarmac at Bethesda, I had a young white fanatic urinate all over me as I laid there wounded. There was a lot of pain and tension in our nation. 

I went to the Marine Corps headquarters to pick up a Brigadier General that was going to drive me over to the Pentagon. I had my executive officer with me.  We were in the General's office waiting and my executive officer was standing to my left. I was standing in full uniform at the door waiting for him to come in so I could present myself.  The General walked in and walked right by me.  He walked over to my executive officer who was a Captain with Captain's bars on (laughs). He said, “Hello, Major Capers. It is so good to have you back in the country. I have heard about the good work you have been doing.” My executive officer was a white guy. I was a Major and obviously a black guy. I guess because of this the General didn’t process and just walked right by me. He assumed the white guy was the officer in charge. When my Captain told him that he had just walked by the officer in charge and that I was standing by the door he looked over. He turned to me, looking very shocked, and said,”Oh, you’re the famous Major Capers. I have heard so much about you in D.C.” I told him that I had to leave because the truth was I didn’t really care to talk to him anymore. He said he was sorry he didn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to hear that because now I was angry. I needed to control myself and I knew that I couldn’t if I stayed in that room any longer. I had lost blood for this country and now he was insulting me because I was black. He wasn’t giving me the respect I deserved and had earned. I was treated this way many times throughout my career.

When we left the building, they put us in a blacked out limousine and took us to the Pentagon. The Secretary of Navy was there and his detail brought me in and he was so kind. He was a very nice young man. He recognized me right away and said, “You’re Major Capers. I am so glad you could take time to come and see me.” He asked me to sit down and told his aide to give me a cup of coffee. He needed to make his report to a delegation. I assumed he was going to talk to the President about me. The true matter was that he wanted us to be able to do what the Isralies did with Operation Entebee. The Marines had Special Ops groups and the Army had them too. We were at the top of the list because I had been around Special Operations now for 20 years. He chose me to go first to speak to the Israelis. He told me that that whatever they needed to make that happen would be a commitment they honored. We spent the afternoon together and he told me about some secret things that were going on around the world.  He wanted me to prepare for the possibility of anything and everything. The detail drove us back to the hotel after the meeting.  It was a good trip and we made some great contacts. They were the best of the best at that time. The SEALS were coming around as well as the men of Delta Force. When I retired the men from Delta went into Iran for the major hostage rescue. Those men would come to me for counsel since I was a Vietnam veteran that had been through a lot on the Special Operations side of the house. I had a couple of CIA guys with me in my company over there as well. Those CIA guys would come to my house on the weekends and I loved them for doing that. I enjoyed my time doing that until I decided that I was done and I retired. 

When did you decide to retire and why?

JC: I retired in 1978. I remember coming home one day to find my wife crying. My son had been bullied and someone had spit on him. He was going to school for special needs and some of the other kids had grabbed him. They roughed him up and spit on him. He wasn’t hurt badly but he depended on his dad. I wasn’t there to protect him from that attack. At the time in my career, I was told I was going to be selected for Lieutenant Colonel by the Marine Corps but I didn’t have enough time as an officer. They were going to give me a deep selection but I had to go to Okinawa for two years. I told them I couldn't do it and leave my wife alone with my son. They told me I was one of their bright stars and I would most likely get a regiment one day. I just let them know I couldn't leave my wife and son again. I never left his side again until he died in my arms.  I just couldn’t do it anymore. I carried weapons in my car since we could be called out at any minute. We were always on alert within the Special Operations community. My wife understood that. When I came home that day and saw my son like that I got in my car. I started driving down to the school and was still armed. There was a red light and I stopped at that light. I stopped and was waiting for it to turn green. I didn't know what I was going to do when I got to the school but it wasn’t going to be a pretty scene. I just knew I was angry for how they treated my son. The light never changed. It stayed red the whole time I sat there. I turned around and went back home. It was a sign from God I do believe. I didn’t know what I was going to do when I got there to the school but I know He did. Sometimes when you’re in His will, God will pick you up and turn you around like He did for me that day. He turned me around. The good Lord can do amazing things.

What do you think about all the things that are going on today in our country?

JC: I have so many thoughts on the racial occurrences of these times. I think all American citizens have so many thoughts about what’s happening and it’s honestly all tragic. The entire country is suffering because of the events of these days. It’s sad for the policemen as well. I just know what my father said when we had the riots in Baltimore. He said you never break into businesses and take anything that doesn’t belong to you. My father wouldn't accept welfare when it came along because he didn’t believe in that. He worked in the steel mill for years and never accepted a check from the government. The idea of breaking into a business and taking things was not even a thought in the back of his subconscious. I’m watching these kids break into businesses and tearing things up and inside I’m mourning. This is not who we are as a people. We have to accept what happened, move on, learn from it, and grow. I don’t have a problem with the protests at all but the rioting is where it needs to stop. The first man to die in Boston named Crispus Attucks was a black man killed by the British. They were even protesting back then and it has since played an important part in our nation’s history. 

Another one of the biggest protests was during World War I when our armed forces members were promised bonuses and the government didn’t deliver them. The WWI veterans rioted in Washington D.C. and MacArthur was in charge of the active military forces at the time. He was a Brigadier General I believe and his contingent shot some of the veterans that had been gassed in World War I in Europe. These men just wanted what they thought they were due. I taught African American history for quite some time and have thought about these cultural issues of protesting very heavily. It is our right as Americans. When you look at African Americans as a people we are the only ones truly being persecuted based on the color of our skin. We came here as slaves in 1620 and through the years we were not even allowed to vote until a certain time. We couldn't own property, marry or buy your freedom.  Every slave in history could do those things except for the African American slaves. There are a lot of inconsistencies when you start talking about slavery so I can’t possibly see all white people as bad. I studied history and I’m sure you know Harriet Tubman was the one who started the underground railroad. I suspect that the folks who got my family to Maryland were something similar to that. My father had no car and we stil got to Baltimore somehow.

What do you want people to remember about you?

JC: I know everyone has a different opinion on how they want to be remembered. The guys like me don’t really matter compared to celebrities in this culture. People don’t even remember individual Roman soldiers and I am just a soldier that had some good luck along the way. I think it’s up to the individual in how they see me or how they will remember me. I have heard nice and not so nice things said about me. I am just not sure how I want them to remember me. It doesn’t really matter in the world for a guy like me. I come along at this time in the world and there are people who say I don’t exist. I don’t even have a birth certificate (laughs). They researched me and said there was no record of me being born. It makes you wonder how I got a top secret clearance. I don’t even technically know how old I am. I am here for a reason though and I know God had His hand in that. When I went back to Bishopville, South Carolina they erected a statue for me on my birthday. 

They have a holiday for me too. There are a lot of superstitions in the South and some say that I was destined to come back to Bishopville. They were told that someone was coming back and would make a difference.  I don’t know if it's me but I am happy to be back.  I spoke to a packed house full of black and white people. I remember being young and working in the fields and I couldn't get a drink of water because I was black. I think God has a hand in this and God has kept me alive for a reason. I can’t explain how I was hit so many times and lived. I bled so much that I couldn't hardly stand up. I survived so many battles and saw so many good men die. I am alive and came home. It wouldn't have happened without God. I am a Christian and do believe if it hadn’t been for my faith I wouldn't have made it. I watched my son die in my arms and my wife die from cancer and they suffered. Jesus Christ suffered the most, ultimately. God gave His only Son. I believe in God and even though I live by myself I am not alone. God is always with me. He has always been. I take great comfort in that.

 What does the film that is coming out about you mean to you?

JC: When I arrived in California I had lost my wife and son. I came home to an empty house in North Carolina and I was hurting. I thought to myself, “What am I going to do?” My first tour of duty was in California. My wife and I lived in a small house there. I was so happy with her there. I still write to her every day even though I know she can't read it. I make sure she knows I’m staying on the path. Anyways, there was a young lady named Ashley that met me at the airport when I arrived in California. She was a young actress and her dad was there with her. He was a funny man and did a good imitation of The Godfather. Ashley made a documentary about me. She has attended the Marine Corps Ball with me and they call her my daughter. She doesn't look anything like me though (laughs). They found me a hotel for a few months and eventually an apartment. I stayed there until I got so sick I almost died. Yerman came to see me while I was there. He came to the hospital to see me and stayed until I was well.  

Ashley came to see me in the hospital as well. They moved me from Santa Monica to San Diego and figured out what was killing me, finally. I survived the ensuing operations. A general came and took me to his house instead of them putting me in a nursing home. He gave me a room in his home and I lived with him. He became like a son to me. I survived and had to learn to walk again. He hired a nurse to help me back on my feet. He helped me do everything and would feed me breakfast every morning.  He did all this while he was the commanding officer of the First Marine Division and we were still at war. The nurses would come and take care of me during the day.  I had two things there with me and that was a picture of my wife and son. I just sat there all day looking at those pictures. I would take all types of medications and didn’t really know where I was. They took good care of me though. I would get to go for walks eventually with a walker and I knew I didn’t want to die there. 

I spent almost four years in California and I knew God had something more for me. I was finally well enough to come home. Bill and my other son brought me back to North Carolina. They turned the light on in the den and I hadn't been home in a long home. This was a strange place to me and I never thought I would see it again.  It was where my wife built this into a home from the ground up. They walked me around the house and then they left. I was alone again and went to bed knowing I was completely alone. I’ll admit I was so lonely. Gary, my son, should’ve been here playing the piano and Dottie should be telling me dinner was ready. I missed those small things. I won’t ever have a Thanksgiving dinner or Christmas like we used to. The singing and happiness in this home and my son laughing wouldn't happen anymore. I miss those times and I miss my home being a happy home. If you ask me if I am happy, I am happy my wife and son are no longer in pain. I am happy that God is with me every single day.  

I started a foundation recently to help those that are less fortunate and to honor my son. We are working to feed people and help the homeless. We have given some donations and hope to do a lot of good work in the community. As we grow and become bigger there will be more people attracted to what we do. The documentary and book coming out have helped get the word out about who I am. I wasn’t that bad of a guy (laughs). It takes doing those things to really help others. I have always meant well in my life and in my service to this nation. I have no apologies for serving my country. 

Is not perseverance one of the most American qualities one can have? When we were told that we “couldn’t” or “wouldn’t” we struck out into the harbor and raided the ships in an event that would later be known as the “Boston Tea Party.” We resolved to create our own stake and claim in the world, fighting for a freedom we believed was our unalienable right. Still, those plans were not perfect either, leaving large swaths of Americans behind the eight ball and lacking the liberties that were promised in our Constitution. If it were not for men like James Capers Jr. who was told he couldn’t many times in life simply due to the color of his skin, who knows where we would be in our pursuit of true equality. The Major dared to be the first to break that barrier of becoming the first black Marine Recon Officer, but it was only through fervent perseverance that he claimed that monumental position. However, we still can’t help but acknowledge simply creating awareness around his story isn’t enough. We must always pursue impartiality as Americans and work to create equal opportunities so that the sacrifices of the Major aren’t left void. His blood, sweat, and tears should undoubtedly ensure that no one ever receives the same treatment he did as an American. Our desire is that his sacrifices stand testament that no matter what the color of your skin is, your position as a member of our Armed Forces is guaranteed by your following of the warrior ethos; not by how you look.

The Major has been recently nominated for the Congressional Medal of Honor after being turned down multiple times, even receiving a downgrade to the Silver Star. There is absolutely no doubt, when one looks over all the data points and the eyewitness testimony, that he ultimately deserves the Medal. The mere fact that Capers has waited as long as he has to even have a chance, is a complete travesty and a black eye on the Marine Corps. James Capers Jr. is the ultimate incarnation of a Marine, his heroic actions that day being just one example of his embodiment of the USMC values of honor, courage, and commitment.

We would like to thank Major James Capers Jr. for sharing his life with our readers and listeners. There is also a two part series of podcasts with the first part premiering today 12/3/2020 and the final part premiering on 12/10/2020. This podcast will be available on all major platforms and at www.thevetsproject.com/podcast.

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