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from Joe Oliver:

http://thundering-third.org/prairie/mutter.html

Mari,

Totally MOVED is all I can say - that you came back to say Thank You. That does not normally occur. Wherefore I'd like to make this mailout to our masterlist - one in Honor of Your Dad.

Have been thinking about what your Dad might say if he spoke with you today. One thing he might say is, "Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not dead, I did not die", as I live in every Marine that's alive today and those that are to come. I know, you may not hear my name often Angel, but be assured I speak the truth. You will see me in their faces, in their walk and in their talk and know I am not dead, I did not die for I live through them and know because they live, I will never be forgotten, and no man is dead until that happens."

Mari, your Dad will never be forgotten and know as long as you want he will live in your heart mind and soul.

God Bless you and THANK YOU for your sacrifice Mari Booth, your Dad, your father so that we, even those who whine all the time how bad our nation is, may enjoy the freedoms he laid down his life for.

Freedom is NOT Free.

ps: Congratulations - Honorary Member of Association - Marine (Daughter) For Life - Dues Paid.

Joe


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Dear Mr. Oliver,

About a year and a half ago, I wrote to you asking for information on my father, Capt. JJ Carroll, USMC, KIA 10-5-66. You spent some time researching and sent me back the information about the Association for the Battalion that he was a member of (3/4 Marines)


and from there I was able to make contact with some of the men who served with him.



Subsequently, they invited me to their Re-union, where I met many wonderful, fine men, who not only remembered my father, but still revered him, and they named me an honorary member of their association. Many of these men have become friends of mine and I have learned so much about the man who fathered me, that I never knew. He was quite an inspiration, and "Camp Carroll" was named after him, when he died in action. I am very proud of my father, and all who have served this country of ours.

I have written the following poem as a tribute to all the Marines, past and present, with my heartfelt gratitude for the freedoms that thier service provides.

It was written as a Thank You for the men who served with my father, they are first in my heart; but it is not specific to them, and I wanted to share it with you. Your response to my request was the first step in a long overdue process of finding my paternal heritage.

Please feel free to share this in your newsletter that you send out.

Thank You, again,
Mari Booth




AVENGING ANGEL

A Legion of Angels descended on earth, to wage an epic war.
Disguised as boys, they stood when called, and traveled to lands afar.
An evil scourge had arisen, and threatened World domination.
These boys became great Warriors; a shield, in defense of our Nation.

Their stories are collective, yet, each one retains the right
to be remembered on their own, for what they gave to the fight.
What qualities does he possess? What caliber of man does it take,
to be the one, we still call upon, when the future is at stake?

He's there in silent vigil, his eyes are sharp and alert.
He listens for the slightest sound, while crouching in the dirt.
He's ready to take action, he knows what must be done.
He'll never quit. He won't give up, til the battle has been won.

The first one called into the field, he's the last, who will depart.
He draws his sword, and weilds it with conviction in his heart.
He's a member of a brotherhood, whose legends are so clever:
"C'mon, you sons of *itches! Do you wanna live forever?"

There is no hesitation when he hears the battle cry.
He lives and breaths his duty. He will be Semper Fi!
He'll charge into the fiercest fight, and forge onward, until death.
If everyone around him falls, he'll fight to his last breath.

The Avenging Angel does his job with eyes as cold as steel.
He knows the damage in his heart, is his, alone, to feel.
For if he fails, our lives will be forever changed, for worse.
So he fights on, to save the world, from Evil's unholy curse.

Who goes there in the darkness? Who keeps us safe from harm?
Who battles with our enemies, and stands for us at dawn?
Who is this one, who knows no fear? Whose actions keep us free?
Whose service is ordained by God, for the sake of Liberty?

Who knows firsthand the price for keeping terror from our shores?
They're the ones who fight for honor, for country and for Corps.
This Legion guards the gates of Heaven. It is from whence, they came.
We owe them what we hold most dear, and all should know their name.

God sent to us his most elite of Angels, without wings.
They're called: The Few. The Proud. The Brave. The United States Marines.
*****
The years pass in succession. The Old Warriors, step aside.
And bowing to their history, the young ones, lead with pride.
The elders share their memories, and won't forget the cost,
of life and limb; of blood and hope, that was forever lost.

For them, the war will never end. It rages in their dreams.
And on their knees, they pray each night, God hears their silent screams.
The eyes of steel are windows now, to the horror and the pain,
they must relive, in flashes, when they travel memory lane.

Few who are protected, will ever know the price,
they have paid, while watching friends, make the ultimate sacrifice.
The peace they gave to others, eludes them in this life.
Their pain: a badge of honor, to have lived through all the strife.

They gave their youth and innocence, to make a stand so bold,
the strain was overwhelming, they were prematurely old.
But they need never worry, nor pray for absolution,
for God has not forsaken those He sent on this great mission.

Someday these men will close their eyes, and be granted eternal sleep.
History will erase the lies, vindication is theirs to keep.
The flag they held allegience to, will now, and forever, wave,
and drape our heroes coffins, when they're lowered in their grave.

And when at last, they're put to rest, their swords, beside them lay.
Their medals, displayed on their chest, give testament to that day,
they stood and took their place, amongst a force like none have seen.
For they were once, and always are, a United States Marine.

written 3-1-2006, and copyrighted
by Mari Booth (aka Marion Carroll)
daughter of Capt. JJ Carroll,
USMC 3/4 Batallion Kilo Co.,
KIA 10-5-66

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Story about the pic can be found here: http://www.virtualwall.org/dc/CarrollJJ01a.htm


27 Sep 1966 - Near the Rockpile, Quang Tri Province

"1025-Capt. "Jay Jay" Carroll of Miami, commander of Kilo company, sees me without a helmet. He says he never wears one, unhooks his own from his belt and throws it to me. . . . I peer over my hole and spot four NVA's [North Vietnamese Army troops] crawling past no more than 50 feet below. I yell to Captain Carroll who is standing up ramrod straight under heavy fire a few feet away, giving orders to his radioman. Carroll pulls the pin from a grenade and hurls it over my head, throws three more before going back to his radio."

NEWSWEEK Senior Editor Arnaud de Borchgrave
Describing the action on Hill 400

Captain J J Carroll throwing hand grenade
at NVA troops, Hill 400. Photo courtesy of
the Thundering Third

Captain James J. Carroll, USMC, was killed in action 8 days later.



From the Citation for the Navy Cross:



"By his outstanding leadership, unlimited courage,
and utmost devotion to duty,
Captain Carroll reflected great credit upon himself
and upheld the highest traditions
of the Marine Corps and the United Stated Naval Service."

[dusty]

Totally moved. As good a way to put it as any I can think of.

Dusty
_________________
Left and Wrong are the opposite of Right!