Godbehere Patrol

In 1967 and 1968, I served with a U.S. Navy conventional combat unit that was more “Special” than most pre-existing special forces units. This is not to take anything away from the outstanding combat units operating in the U.S. military, and not to imply we were more ruthless or highly trained than any others. In fact, looking back on it, I would have to say; we had more balls than common sense. We were young, full of piss and vinegar, and never avoided a chance to fight. TF116, Operation Gamewardens was a U.S. Navy Task Force consisting of conventional and special warfare combat units. I served with the River Patrol Forces of TF116. We were specially trained to operate heavily armed, 31’ high speed fiberglass patrol boats (PBRs) on the intercostal waterways of Vietnam. I was one of a 4 man crew aboard a PBR.

TF116 was a special USN Task Force consisting of several hundred PBR patrol boats deployed specifically for service on the rivers and smaller canals of the Mekong Delta. This “All Volunteer” Unit was only in service for 9 years. TF116 did not exist before Vietnam, and was disbanded by the end of the War. In addition to working closely with SEAL Team Two and Seawolf (HAL-3) gun ships, we were also involved in many special operations with U.S. Army and ARVN forces. Not since the U.S. Civil War has such intense riverine warfare been engaged, nor as such fire power been placed directly under the command of enlisted junior rank personnel. Eight men aboard two PBRs controlled more firepower that an entire Platoon of infantry - with six, (6) Browning fifty caliber heavy machine guns - two, (2) M-60 machine guns, and a wide assortment of other weapons including Honeywell grenade launchers, 60MM mortars and LAWS rockets. I am extremely Proud of my service with this VERY elite group of outstanding Patriots. I can honestly say I have never met a Braver group of Americans.

On March 1, 1968, Bravo Patrol, (my patrol) was ambushed by the Viet Cong and NVA on the Bassac River. I was severely wounded when two RPGs hit our boat, (B-40 rockets). If not for my crew mates (who were also wounded), I would have died right there and then. The story of this firefight and struggle for survival has become legendary among PBR sailors and I'm honored to be associated with real American Heroes. We were, and are known as;

Below are a few items written about our patrol after the war. I have also added a few photos from my private collection for your viewing. Everything that you see and read here is supported by documentation and verifiable. Please feel free to email me with your comments and suggestions.

Retired U.S. Navy deep water diver, HTC (DV), Steve Olson of Lynn Haven Florida never realized he was in possession of a photograph that held much importance to the crew of a patrol boat in Vietnam in 1968.

Last week, Vietnam combat veteran Steve Olson was surfing the internet for information on his old outfit in Vietnam when he came across Jere Beery’s name and web site information. “Jere and I served with PBRs at River Section 511 in Vietnam. All these years I thought he had been killed on the river. I had no idea he had survived,” Olson stated.

Beery and Olson served together with the U.S. Navy’s river patrol forces in Vietnam. Both men were stationed at Binh Thuy in the Delta, on the Bassac River near the city of Can Tho. “Beery and I went through training together before going to Nam. I remember him well. We were buddies”, Olson said.

The boats Beery and Olson were assigned to were called PBRs (Patrol Boat, River) and the crews that manned these boats were called River Rats. In the mid-60s the Navy turned lightweight 31-foot fiberglass hull pleasure craft into small heavily armed high-speed patrol boats, with each PBR brandishing three fifty caliber heavy machine guns and an assortment of other weaponry. For the most part, the River Rats themselves consisted of all volunteers from U.S. duty stations worldwide. The only real requirement for joining this specialized unit was a willingness to wage close-quarter combat with the Viet Cong on the waterways in Vietnam. The PBR crews never avoided a chance to engage the enemy and their combat history is well documented by the United States Navy.

On the night of March 1, 1968, Jere Beery’s two boat patrol was ambushed by a substantial force of well trained NVA and Viet Cong on the Bassac River. Several positions of heavy machine guns and rocket propelled grenades (RPGs) opened fire on the two small PBRs of Bravo Patrol just after dark. Two RPGs penetrated the thin fiberglass starboard side of Beery’s boat and exploded. “The first RPG had my name on it. It came through the side of the boat and exploded right were I was standing,” Beery recalled. Seaman Beery was severely wounded in the stomach, legs and arms by shrapnel. The patrol officer, LT. Richard Godbehere, and M60 gunner Seaman Harold Sherman were also wounded and knocked off their feet by the explosion in the boat. The second RPG hit the boat’s grenade locker and set off several grenades. Once again, the crew was blown to the deck and again wounded by hot pieces of enemy shrapnel. The story of this firefight and struggle for survival has become legendary among the river patrol forces and is affectionately known by many as “The Godbehere Patrol”.

On the morning following the ambush, after the shot-up #60 PBR was moored back at the base, Seaman Steve Olson took a picture of Beery’s damaged boat as he went out on patrol that morning. “I never gave it another thought,” Olson said. “Then, when I found Beery last week, I sent him a few of my photographs that had survived over the years. I had forgotten that was his boat,” Olson added.

Once Jere Beery viewed the photos he got excited. “The RPG hits on a boat in one of the pictures were exactly where they were supposed to be. I sent the picture to my patrol officer for confirmation,” Beery said.

LT. Richard Godbehere of Kapaa Hawaii, Beery’s PBR patrol officer that night replied immediately. “Amazing! There is no doubt in my mind that is our boat,” Godbehere said. “I never thought I would see that boat again,” Godbehere added.

According to Godbehere, there were no pictures routinely taken by the Navy when a PBR came back to base all shot up. “They just patched them up and sent them back out on patrol,” Godbehere said. “The fact that this picture even exist is truly a miracle,” he said.

David Otto, of Jefferson Ohio was the forward gunner on Beery’s PBR that night. “I have examined the photo carefully and the odds of another PBR from the same river section having two RPG hits in the same places as ours is astronomical,” Otto stated. “In fact, it appears the boat is docked right where I put it on the night of March 1^st,” he added. David Otto was the only person not seriously wounded on the boat that night and he was the only crew member left to take the crippled PBR back to the base after everyone was medivaced out. “The RPGs had knocked out one of the boat’s engines. I had to limp my way past the ambush area and back to the base that night by myself. I had lost my entire boat crew and I was not in a good mood. As good as the photo is, it doesn’t begin to show how gruesome the inside of the boat looked,” Otto said.

Beery, Godbehere, and Otto all agree that finding this photograph not only supports their personal accounts of the events that transpired that night, but just adds credence to the remarkable story of how they survived. “They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but this photograph is priceless to us,” Beery said. “How it found us after all of these years is truly mind boggling,” he added.

#60 PBR boat crew on the night of March 1, 1968 - Patrol Officer, LT. RICHARD GODBEHERE - After Gunner, Seaman, JERE BEERY - M60 Gunner, Seaman, HAROLD SHERMAN - Boat Captain, BM1, DALLAM BAILEY - Forward Gunner, GM3, DAVID OTTO

Seaman Harold Sherman, Sr. from Tyler Texas was the M60 machine gunner on Beery’s boat and was awarded the Silver Star for his actions the night of the ambush. Sherman extinguished a fire in the grenade locker with his bare hands and threw unexploded grenades over the side. Harold Sherman passed away in 2003. “Sherman was one of the guys that saved my life and the boat that night. We will never forget him,” Beery stated.

t Here is another 1968 photo Steve Olson provided of the damaged #60 PBR. This picture was taken inside the boat where the second RPG hit on the starboard side. The photo shows the charred area of the grenade locker. This is where Seaman Sherman extinguished a fire with his bare hands.

After Vietnam, Steve Olson went on to pursue a 20 year career as a deep water diver with the U.S. Navy. Olson has over 2500 dives to his credit.

BM1, Dallam Bailey was the fifth crew member onboard the PBR that night. Olson’s photo has been forwarded to Bailey for review and a response is expected soon.

From left to right; CDR. DICK GODBEHERE, USN,(Ret.) - SM3, JERE BEERY, USN,(Med-Ret.) - BM1, HAROLD SHERMAN, USN,(Ret.) - CDR. DALLAM BAILEY, USN,(Ret.), and GM3, DAVE OTTO -- (Gamewarden's Reunion, 1990)

The five men – ranging from their late 30s to 50s – sat on the picnic table in the Virginia sunshine and smiled for a picture.

They all had something to smile about because they were together again. The last time they all were together, three of them were injured and a forth almost died. Last month, they were together again for the first time in more than 23 years.

On a dark March night in 1968, those five men – Richard Godbehere, Jere Beery, Harold Sherman, Dallam Bailey and Dave Otto – were on a routine patrol on the Bassac River in Vietnam. That night the usual inky blackness was shattered by the glare of ammunition as the boat was attacked by North Vietnamese forces.

Otto alone escaped injury – miraculously escaping the bullets that struck all around his gun mount. Godbehere, Sherman and Bailey were injured.

Beery’s belly was ripped open by an explosion and only the bravery of his injured comrades helped him survive.

Last month, the five men were together again for the first time at the Gamewardens of Vietnam Association, Task Force 116 reunion. The annual reunion was held in Norfolk, VA from August 1 – 3.

“Next year, it will be held in St. Louis,” said Beery, who lives north of Newnan with his wife Donna.

The fact that the five men found each other at all is a miracle. Otto for a number of years thought that Beery had died in the firefight on the Bassac River. After Beery located Godbehere, Otto and Bailey, no one could find Sherman’s address for some time.

Bill Warren, a friend of the five men who also attended the Gamewardens reunion, said it was “so overwhelming” for the men to get together again.

“It was a very emotional experience for those guys to all come together after all these years,” Warren said. He said the wives of the men also got to meet face-to-face those Navy buddies who helped each other through the danger of the Bassac River.

Warren said the experience also gave the wives an opportunity to experience “some of the feelings their husbands have been carrying for all of these years.”

“I think the reunion was just super,” said Otto, who now lives in Ohio. “Getting together with all the guys after all this time was like a one in a million shot.”

He said that is was great to see his friends of 1968 again. “Things couldn’t have worked out better than they did,” he said.

The Godbehere patrol was chosen to serve as color guard for the rededication of a memorial marker at Norfolk. “It was kind of neat carrying the flag for the memorial service,” he said. “It was just great.”

The men and their wives enjoyed a river cruise, a banquet and a lot of time remembering the Vietnam era and the years that have since passed.

During the banquet, a chaplain read a poem he wrote about Vietnam. Between verses describing the fear of death, the chaplain echoed these words: “Can God be here?”

“We felt like we had a guardian angels looking over us. You can’t explain how in the heck it happened,” Beery said of his survival, the reunion with his friends, the “God be here” poem and other uncanny experiences.

“I took a nap one afternoon, and when I woke up, I thought, is this a dream? I really did,” Beery said.

There is closeness with those friends from 25 years ago because they had to depend on each other “for your life and everything else,” Otto said.

“With the group that we had, it wasn’t just a job. We were all brothers in arms, brothers in combat,” he said.

Godbehere, who now lives in Hawaii, commented, “I never served with a braver bunch of people. Valor was commonplace.”

Of the Bravo Patrol, he said, “They took the fight to the enemy on a continual basis.”

Beery brought plaques to honor all of those who served with him on Bravo Patrol. Otto said his plaque is “something that’s going to go on my wall.”

His wife, Cathy, “just thought it was great, too,” Otto said. “We talked about it all the way home – just how great everything was.”

Dallam “Bill” Bailey visited in Georgia with Beery and Otto about a year ago. He had never before, however, been to a Gamewarrdens reunion and had not seen Godbehere and Sherman since 1968.

“It was real emotional,” he said. He said that he was moving to a new home in Washington State and his plaque from Beery will be the first thing on his wall.

Warren said the men on the PBR (Patrol Boat, River) that night were “part of a team” who were used to depending on each other for survival. “I never met a finer group of men,” he said.

In rating the reunion on a scale of one to 10, Beery said, “It turned out to be a 20.”

The members of the Godbehere patrol, in conjunction with Warren, are working on a written form of their story in hopes of publication or possibly even a film. Admiral Elmo R. Zumwalt, head of U.S. Navy forces during the Vietnam War, has agreed to write an introduction to the manuscript.

“I think all of us are disappointed with films produced to date,” Warren said.

He characterized as “a lot of Hollywood fluff” the majority of the Vietnam films made. “It just in not the way it really wasn't,” Warren said.

“We have a good story to tell,” said Warren, who has experience as a film producer.

He said that the story of what happened on the Bassac could be made into “an outstanding motion picture.” He added, “It’s got a lot of drama.”

A documentary made of film clips of the people involved in the March 1968 firefight is already in the works. Warren said he hopes to get the documentary shown on a network or on public television.

Members of the group hope that exposure of the basic story will provide more significant support for a feature film. “I think everybody’s pretty fired up about it,” Otto said of the possibility of a film.

“It needs to be told because of all the lousy movies they made,” Otto said. It is time “for something positive” to be told about the Vietnam experience,” he said.

The March 1968 story has “all the action” of other films. Otto said, “But it’s true.”

He said that the years that have followed the firefight also have some inspiring moments. Beery, despite his injuries, for several years worked as a movie and television stuntman.

“To go on and do the things we’ve done – it’s pretty amazing,” Otto said.

The story “could be an inspiration to somebody who’s ready to give up,” he said.

The reunion of the five men who survived that hellish night on the Bassac River will be a highlight of their lives. The last night of the trip, they got together with their wives to talk about friendship, survival and life.

Sherman’s wife, Stella, said that it was as if she had known the group her entire life. Much of the time, the friends were “right on the brink of tears,” Beery said.

NORFORK, Va, (UPI) - A sea-going Texan was awarded the Navy’s Silver Star for gallantry Friday for his actions while serving on a river patrol boat in Vietnam.

Seaman Harold W. Sherman, 23, of Cuney, Tex was cited for his actions March 1 when his boat was hit by two rockets and came under heavy enemy fire.

Sherman, a machine gunner on the craft was wounded by shrapnel. Despite the wound, his citation notes, he administered first aid to save the life of another wounded gunner, then single-handedly extinguished a fire in the boat’s grenade locker while still under intense fire.

He received the decoration Friday aboard the U.S.S. Dewey, a destroyer to which he was recently transferred.

If fighting the Vietnam War was close to being in hell, former Navy seaman Jere Beery attributes his getting out alive to an act of God.

Beery believes God was there on that bloody night in 1968, in a battle that left him permanently scarred and disabled.

But if Beery didn’t die that night, it was because of an Arizona man named Richard Godbehere. For the first time since that horrifying March night in Vietnam, then Navy Lt. Richard Godbehere, now Maricopa County sheriff and Beery met last week in Phoenix in what was an emotional reunion.

Godbehere, the officer on board the small river boat patrol, remembers an eerie calmness seconds before the attack.

Godbehere, who was 32 during the war, said he saw the orange-red burst of one rocket explode about six inches from the top of the ¼ inch-thick fiberglass boat and about three feet from Beery.

Godbehere saw another rocket hit the grenade locker on the boat, causing several grenades to explode, setting the boat ablaze.

He felt the painful sting of shrapnel pierce his legs as the blast from the rocket knocked him backwards.

But Godbehere, who thought Beery died from the impact of the first rocket, looked back to see that Beery was standing with his hands clenched around his machine gun. But, he wasn’t shooting.

“His intestines were hanging all over the deck,” Godbehere said. “So I laid him down and picked up his intestines, put them on his stomach, and covered it up with a big battle dressing.”

“I couldn’t talk, so I pulled (Godbehere) close to me and told him if I died to tell my parents what happened,” Beery said. “Well Godbehere got downright belligerent. He started arguing with me. He said, “What do you mean tell your parents. Nothing is wrong with you. You don’t have anything missing.”

Godbehere said he was “mindful of the shock” Beery was experiencing. “I told him nothing was missing and he was going to be OK; that we have all his intestines stacked up and got the bleeding under control.”

The heroic act made such an impact on Lt. Cmdr. Tom Cutler of the U.S. Navy he is writing a book on Vietnam with a chapter is dedicated to Godbehere. The chapter is titled “God-Be-Here.”

Godbehere suffered a severe leg wound and left the war shortly after, earning two Purple Hearts and a Bronze Star.

Beery, received three Purple Hearts for his war effort and remained in the hospital for a year and a half.

“It took me five years before I could walk, because when they closed this thing I was bent over,” Beery said referring to the gaping hole in his stomach. “They pulled the skin together to close it, so I was wadded up like a ball for five years.”

Beery later pursued acting and modeling and literally fell into a career as a stunt man.

As a member of the Screen Actors Guild, Beery has fallen from six-story buildings, thrown punches in some of Hollywood’s toughest fight scenes and emerged from fiery car crashes.

In 1979, he landed the role of Burnett in a CBS special, The Ordeal of Dr. Mudd with Dennis Weaver and Susan Sullivan.

He has acted or preformed stunts in Tough City, Final Exam, Cannonball Run, Breaking Away and Sharky’s Machine.

Beery since has thrown his Hollywood career out the window for a crusade he says is important for the future of veterans.

He began his crusade in July when he received harsh treatment after surgery from a Veterans Administration nurse.

“She told me that if I didn’t like the service there that I can pack up my bags and leave,” Beery said. “So I ripped out the damn tubes, called my wife and left.”

So, Beery and his wife are traveling the United States visiting VA hospitals and war veterans. Beery has spent about $10,000 so far driving across the country, talking with veterans and informing the public.

“All these people need is some incentive and compassion,” Beery said. “I get a check every month. Well hell, I’ll give it back. Just make sure that I can still have my medical benefits.

“That rocket wasn’t aimed at Jere Beery. I took that rocket in the name of the United States of America. So damn it, take care of me."

“Brown Water, Black Berets,” a book about the U.S. Navy’s brown-water forces in Vietnam is now in its second printing.

The book was published earlier this year by Naval Institution Press in Annapolis, Md. One chapter in the book includes the experiences of Coweta County resident Jere Beery in Vietnam.

“Brown Water, Black Berets” was written by Thomas J. Cutler, a lieutenant commander in the U.S. Navy and a history instructor at the U.S. Naval Academy.

Beery was a signalman third class when the events related in the book took place in 1968. He was working on one of the boats of a two-PBR (patrol boat, river) patrol.

Commanding the patrol was Lt. Richard Godbehere. The lieutenant’s name has special significance for Beery.

Even during the Vietnam War, those serving under his command took some comfort in the name. “I’d rather have Godbehere than anyone else,” Cutler quoted sailors as saying.

Beery said that Cutler’s book has been widely read, especially by Vietnam veterans. When Beery was at the Vietnam Memorial in Washington during the Veterans Day holiday, he had on a name tag. Several people approached him and said, “I read about you.”

In “Brown Water,” Cutler relates how Beery suffered severe pelvic injuries after being hit by a B-40 rocket. Godbehere was injured by another rocket but was able to assist Beery whose abdomen was open and whose intestines were “trailing down to a grisly heap on the PBR’s deck,” Cutler wrote.

Godbehere continued to tell Beery that he would be alright, even though the officer feared Beery would not survive.

Before the mission on the PBR, Beery had gotten a new camouflage uniform which was left in tatters after his attack. Cutler related that Beery and Godbehere reached a village, Beery was loaded onto a stretcher.

“I don’t know how those guys managed to hit me. I thought I looked like a tree.” Beery joked as he was being prepared for transport.

Cutler related that Beery later became a movie stuntman. Beery has lived for the past few years north of Newnan with his wife Donna.

The Beerys are active in veteran’s organizations. Beery has led a crusade for better VA healthcare.

Cutler served in Vietnam from January to December of 1972. He was an in-country naval adviser to South Vietnamese forces. He earned the Navy Commendation and Achievement Medals, a Combat Action Ribbon and several other awards.

The Newnan Times-Herald

Newnan, Georgia

Thursday – April 6, 1989

Ohio Man Reunited

With Vietnam Buddy

Thought Beery Was Dead

MARK-I (PBR)

Bravo Patrol cover boat, GM3, David "Dave" Otto on the forward guns, 1966.

By W. Winston Skinner

Assistant News Editor

Dave Otto thought Jere Beery was dead.

“I never heard any different,” he said.

When his wife got a message for him to call Beery, he really did not know what to make of it. Last month, however, Otto and Beery were together again at Beery’s home north of Newnan

It was a satisfying end to an emotional journey that brought Dave Otto face-to-face with the man he thought died 21 years ago when PBR (Patrol Boat – River) they were in was hit by Viet Cong fire.

Beery was manning the only gun working in the boat and sustained extensive abdominal injuries. His intestines dropped to the deck of the boat while he held onto his gun.

Otto was in the pit, manning guns that malfunctioned. “I was trying desperately to get my guns to work,” he recalled.

The other crew members serving on the PBR that March night in 1968 were injured, and Otto never knew what happened to Beery – always assuming he had died because of the severity and extensive nature of his wounds.

Otto recalled his frustration when he discovered that the guns in the pit were not working. “It seems like it last forever,” he said, remembering the events.

The boat was taken to the near-by village of Tra On. There an army medical unit “took all you guys away,” Otto said to Beery.

“Dave had to take the boat back to the base in the middle of the night alone,” Beery said. The boat had suffered considerable damage and was taking on water. The bilge pumps were pumping blood.

Otto was so distraught that night that he went out and got drunk.

Shrapnel had miraculously missed him, making baseball size holes in the boat, near where he worked that night. “I got a little piece of shrapnel in my hand,” he said.

If Dave Otto ever blamed himself because his guns did not work that March night, Beery gives Otto and the other crewmembers credit for his being alive today.

“This man right here was just as responsible as they were. While they were holding my guts together, he was driving the boat,” Beery said of Otto.

In a country thousands of miles from home, Americans learned to depend on each other. In the event of injury, it was the cool-headed thinking and determination of one’s friends that meant the difference between life and death. “You don’t go to MedFirst. You don’t call 911,” Beery said.

Beery recalled that the boat remained in waters that were vulnerable to the enemy, and at one point the boat caught fire. “Any wrong move at that time could have cost not only my life, but the others,” Beery said.

Dave Otto made no wrong moves, and Jere Beery remembered.

On March 20, Otto and Beery were reunited at the Beery’s Coweta County home. Seeing Beery – alive and robust – was a relief to Otto.

“I’ve just carried this around all these years,” he said. The meeting was not, however, by chance.

It is in many ways a miracle that the two men found each other after 20 years.

“I think it started with a phone call I got,” Cathy Otto said. The Ottos live in Jefferson, a suburb of Ashtabula, Ohio, with children Carrie and Kevin.

A woman from Ashtabula called Cathy and related “kind a lengthy story,” she recalled. The gist of the message was that Jere Beery was looking for Dave Otto.

In 1986, Beery and his wife, Donna, had contacted all of the Ottos in the Ashtabula telephone listings. Beery remembered Ashtabula from his conversations with Otto, because of the unusual name.

The calls – at that time – were fruitless, but apparently someone thought on the matter and decided to call Dave Otto in Jefferson.

When Cathy Otto told her husband about the message, he “acted really weird,” she said. He told her, “that couldn’t be, Jere’s dead. I’m sure.”

A short time later, Otto read an article in the VFW Magazine about someone looking for a serviceman who served in the area where Otto had been in Vietnam.

Otto did not know the person being sought, but he wrote anyway. As a result of the correspondence, he received a copy of a newsletter that had an address and telephone number for Beery.

Someone also shared a copy of a Newnan Times-Herald article about Beery. Beery, who crusades for veterans rights in general and for better veteran health care in particular, has passed out copies of the article across the country.

“The next thing you know,” Otto said, he was talking to Beery on the telephone.

“I knew who it was immediately. It’s hard to explain these things,” Beery said.

“There are certain days that stick out in my mind,” Beery said, adding that finding Otto will always be “one of the highlights of my life.”

Beery has been in contact with several of the other crew members from the 1968 PBR outing. “Otto and I spent a lot of free time together,” Beery recalled.

When he and Otto made contact, that left only one crew member who has not been located.

Both Beery and Otto expressed an interest in contacting Sherman, the black crewmember whose first name they do not recall. They are working with other friends from military days to try and locate him.

Beery remembered Sherman as “probably the largest black person on the face of the earth.” He was quiet and worked closely with the other members of the PBR crew.

Otto was not the first PBR veteran to be shocked to discover Jere Beery was alive. Beery recalled telephoning another member of the crew who “thought it was a bad joke” when he told him his name.

“My God, I thought you were dead,” he told Beery when he was finally convinced.

Beery said that men who serve together in combat time develop a special closeness. They depend on each other to survive.

Beery and Otto talk about their PBR with pride – about how it was the fasted one, about how no one had been injured aboard it from November of 1967 until the following March. “We were a tight crew,” Beery said. “We were beginning to feel a little immortal,” he said.

Beery and Otto served on Bravo Patrol. The patrols were named alphabetically, and Otto can still remember many of the names – Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Echo.

Their memories of the war reflect the zest for living that young people away from home have.

Beery remembered putting C-rations on the engine cover while making patrols in the PBR. “In a couple of hours, you had hot food,” he said.

The higher-ranked crew members got first choice of the canned food. Unfortunately for Beery, he liked beans and franks, but never got them. “I was the low man on the totem pole,” he said.

He remembered Christmas 1967 when Otto gave him a can of beans and franks and wished him a Merry Christmas. “It was the best Christmas present I ever had,” Beery said.

Both Beery and Otto talked about the commitment of the young men who fought at their sides. “The guys who went didn’t stand around,” Otto remembered.

Otto also recalled when a bomb exploded in Tra On. About 50 people were injured. Many servicemen gave blood to help those injured, and military personnel transported the severely hurt Vietnamese to hospitals elsewhere.

He also remembered early in the war staying in a rented house without running water. He and his housemates would try to get a shower on an outside porch area when it rained.

Although the reason behind the Vietnam War have been hotly debated in the years since the withdrawal of Americans troops, Beery recalled feeling the support of America for a clear-cut goal – democratic government in southeast Asia – when he left to fight.

“The United States was committed to helping the South Vietnamese establish a democracy and freedom,” Beery said.

The river patrol sailors were an all-volunteer group. “They were there with the same beliefs their fathers had during World War II,” Cathy Otto said.

Dave Otto and his father are both life members of a VFW post in Ohio.

A total of 2,663 U.S. Navy personnel died in Vietnam. Some were Navy pilots, and other served in a variety of positions.

“A large number of them were river patrol guys,” Otto said. The Navy had the highest percentage of fatalities of all service groups in Vietnam.

Nobody, however, “envied anybody else’s job.” Beery said.

Otto recalled that after he returned from the war, few people wanted to talk about Vietnam, and most comments were negative. He said one early co-worker bragged about getting out of serving.

When he found someone who wanted to talk about the Vietnam experience, he got excited. Such occurrences, however, were “few and far between.”

Both Beery and Otto are proud of their war service – and proud to have renewed the friendship started more than 20 years ago in South Vietnam.

Otto now works for Reliance Electric. He enjoys collecting antique bottles, and the Beerys and Ottos did a little bottle hunting while the Ohio family visited in Georgia.

Richard Godbehere was a Navy lieutenant on March 1, 1968 when the two patrol boats he was commanding in the Mekong Delta of Vietnam came under machine gun, rocket and rifle fire.

Four of the five men on his boat were hit, including Jere Beery, who suffered a severe stomach wound.

Although wounded himself, Godbehere put Beery back together as best he could and placed a huge 1-foot-square bandage over his stomach.

Then he ordered his two boats downriver as fast as they could go, while radioing for a medevac helicopter.

Beery was expected to die, telling Godbehere what to do with his personal effects, but the helicopter was on time and he survived.

Godbehere recommended the entire crew for citations, but the officer in charge died before the papers could be forwarded, and the matter was forgotten. Godbehere retired from the Navy in 1979, became an apartment builder, was elected sheriff of Phoenix and moved to Kona in 1988.

Three years ago, another Navy man writing a book on river warfare contacted Beery, now in Atlanta and active in veteran’s affairs. The end result was the entire crew being recommended again for citations.

“It surprised the heck out of me,” Godbehere says. I put all of these other guys in for awards.” Beery explained to him, “we decided we wouldn’t receive an award unless you got one, too.” Beery received a Bronze Star in March. Godbehere got his from Admiral Charles Larson, commander in chief of the U.S. Pacific Fleet, in ceremonies at noon Monday at the King Kamehameha Hotel in Kailua-Kona.

The crew's only regret: They’re still trying to locate one member, a tall black man known only by his last name, Sherman, last reported to be in the San Diego area.

The “V” on the Navy Commendation Medal stands for valor, a fitting tribute to David Otto of Jefferson, who received the medal just last month in recognition of events that occurred more than 22 years ago in Vietnam.

During an award ceremony Sept. 18 at the Naval Air Station Atlanta, Otto and two others were recognized for their bravery during events that happened March 1, 1968.

Otto was a member of a river boat patrol crew when Jere Beery was hit by a missile. Beery received the Bronze Star for valor in Vietnam for continuing to man guns on the patrol boat after being hit by shrapnel. Otto and Dallam “Bill” Bailey were presented with the Navy Commendation Medal. The river patrol’s commander, Lt. Richard Godbehere will receive his Bronze Star for courage in Hawaii where he now lives. A fifth crew member, a black man named Sherman, has not been located.

The recommendation for the medals was first made in 1968, but the officer in charge of the unit was killed before the paperwork was processed. Only recently did the oversight come to someone’s attention.

He holds no feelings of bitterness towards those who criticized the efforts of servicemen in Vietnam, and finally he can say he feels no shame.

He visited “The Wall,” the Vietnam Memorial in Washington D.C. and was emotionally shaken by the visible evidence of the 58,000 people who died in the conflict.

But he becomes angry about the portrayal of Americans in films such as Platoon and Born on the Forth of July.

The movies show the men drinking and using drugs. It wasn’t all like that, Otto said. During the 25 months he spent in Vietnam there was only one incident of a guy caught with marijuana, he said.

For this reason he and Beery are writing a book they hope will end up on the screen.

The story that needs to be told in more upbeat, he says, instead of just blood, guts and gore.

He remembers boats going down the river with men tossing bars of soap and candy to the kids gathered at the shore and the river boat moving injured to the bigger cities so they could get medical care, he said.

Many chapters have already been written by Beery and Otto, with manuscripts being mailed back and forth.

Earlier this year, Beery, who now lives north of Newnan, talked by telephone with Harold W. Sherman, one of the men who saved his life. In the 23 years since an attack ripped open Beery’s abdomen, Beery has managed to contact all of the other men on the PBR that night.

Richard Godbehere, commander of the boat that night, now lives in Hawaii. Dave Otto, who returned to Ohio after the war, and Dallam Bailey, who now lives in Washington state, have visited with Beery at his Coweta County home.

Godbehere and Sherman, although they were both wounded themselves, managed to apply a huge battle dressing over Beery’s mid-section after the attack.

“I can’t possibly thank Harold Sherman enough for what he did 23 years ago. He’s a remarkable man,” Beery said.

Sherman retired from the Navy on Nov. 30, 1984 and makes his home in Tyler, Texas. Sherman was also searching for Beery.

“I was trying to find him. Last I saw of him he was in the boondocks somewhere,” Sherman said in a telephone interview.

A couple of years later, Sherman learned for certain that Beery had survived when he met someone who had been in the hospital with Beery. In 1983, Sherman was looking through a naval magazine and found Godbehere’s address.

He wrote Godbehere and got Beery’s address but never was able to get in touch with Beery. Since that time, he has also heard from Otto.

Sherman received a Silver Star for his heroism on the night Beery was hit. Ironically, the others on the boat did not get recognition for their efforts until last year.

Sherman got the medal about a year after the attack, as it kept following him through a succession of assignments in Vietnam, Japan, Texas, Florida and Virginia. It finally was presented to him aboard the U.S.S. Dewey.

He returned to Vietnam in 1970 where he was assigned to Da Nang Hospital. “They started closing it out,” Sherman said.

He remembered Beery well from his early tour in Vietnam. “He was very excited, energetic,” Sherman said.

He recalled Beery’s great desire to be a signalman. “Me and Jere were real close,” he said.

The two “would talk to one another,” Sherman remembered. Sherman said he was “going on 23” at the time, and Beery was a few years younger.

Sherman received two Purple Hearts for his Vietnam service – one of them for the night Beery was hit. A piece of shrapnel went into his foot that night.

“I still have problems with it,” Sherman said. His right shoulder also shows signs of battle injury.

Plans are being made now for a reunion of the entire boat crew. “To see how they ended up. I guess it’s kind of indescribable,” he said.

The five men are also working on a manuscript that may be published or may serve as the basis for some dramatization.

Finding all of his compatriots from that night in 1968 “lifted a weight off my shoulders I’d carried all these years,” Beery said.

The experience brought back “a lot of memories that I’ve suppressed over the years,” he said. “I truly do owe my life to these guys.”

Beery said he began searching for Bailey, Godbehere, Otto and Sherman in 1987. “There’s 250 million people in this country,” he said, reflecting on the odds of finding those four.

“When I found Sherman, it was like a religious experience. It was like finding the last piece of a puzzle I’d been searching for,” he said.

Beery has great faith that God saved them all in 1968 and is bring them back together now.

“You couldn’t put these elements together and have things come out this way again,” he said.