October 11th, 2020
On the morning of October 11th, 2020, my son Micah and I left our hotel in nearby Mesquite and drove just over 70 miles to the southwest. The Dallas skyline soon faded in the rear view mirror, and we followed Interstate 35E passed small towns, farms and cattle ranches. Our destination was a town of roughly 1500 people named Itasca, and more specifically, the town cemetery.
We entered the town from the east and drove for several blocks before being stopped. The rattle and clacking of a passing freight train filled our ears, as well as barred are way. After a several minute delay, which Micah joyfully endured by counting the passing train cars, we crossed the tracks. Just a short distance from the railroad crossing, we pulled into the Itasca Cemetery. Nestled into the southwest corner of town, and across from the Itasca grain co-op, the cemetery consisted of nine or ten long sections, each one divided roughly in half by an access road.
We came here to pay our respects to Sergeant Buddy Channon, who had been killed in action in Vietnam on March 9th, 1969. Not knowing exactly where to look, all we had to go by was an a picture of the headstone that someone else has posted on another website. It was a hot October Texas day (especially for us Alaskans), but Micah was up for the search.
We parked in the middle of the cemetery and started a grid pattern based on what my best guess was. After 15-20 minutes, Micah spotted it and called me over. He helped me place a flag, and we righted another that had fallen over. I sent him back to the rental car to cool off in the air conditioning, and I stood there alone for a few minutes.
I let the hot Texas sun soak into me. The distant sound of another freight train rattling down the nearby tracks brought a smile to my face. Looking south from his gravesite, tall headstones stood silhouetted against the bright blue cloudless sky. As if Texas and the skies above joined right there. Without Buddy, my life most likely would have gone by without ever visiting Itasca. But now I have a memory of that place.
Buddy
I never knew Buddy, and at that time I didn’t even know much of his story. I knew just enough to know that he served in the 3-12 Infantry like my uncle, and that there was a story to be discovered. After my visit I was able to connect via email with Buddy’s widow Jane and also his sister Linda. I know a lot about Buddy’s story now.
He was a “Shake’n’Bake” sergeant, a graduate of the US Army’s NCO Candidate School, class number 33-68B. Of the 145 graduates of that class, Buddy and 15 others lost their lives in Vietnam. He had arrived in Vietnam on November 1st, 1968, and had been in country for 128 days when he lost his life on the slopes beneath LZ Swinger. In his time in Vietnam, he spent time in both Kontum and Pleiku Provinces. Locations like Hill 1338 south of Dak To, as well as places like the De Bodral rubber plantation east of Kontum City, VC Valley in between Pleiku and An Khe, and FSB Roundtop and LZ Fire in the mountains southwest of Kontum City, and finally LZ Swinger, overlooking the infamous Plei Trap Valley to its south.
He made good friends in Alpha Company, and is remembered by them even today.
March 9th, 1969
The fighting near LZ Swinger on March 9th, 1969 claimed the lives of Buddy Channon and three other Alpha Company soldiers. The article below will give a little insight into how that day unfolded.
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