After 40 years, a Vietnam vet gets his Bronze Star

The Virginian-Pilot ^ | May 31, 2009 | Louis Hansen

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VIRGINIA BEACH

A few years ago at a reunion for Navy sailors and airmen, Clarence Cooper met two men he'd seen just once - Sept. 14, 1968. It was a hot and humid afternoon when North Vietnamese troops ambushed Cooper's supply ship on the river outside Vinh Long.

Rockets streamed from the bank, blasted through bulkheads and drove shrapnel into the small crew. The sailors unloaded on the entrenched enemy lines. The deck was covered with smoke and fire and cartridge cases and two rocket-propelled grenades that somehow didn't explode.

The fight culminated with a helicopter rescue of a gravely wounded sailor under heavy fire. The Navy pilot, Jim Walker, and door gunner, Barry Waluda, won some of the service's highest awards for valor.

Years later at the reunion in Denver, the three men sat together at a barbecue and relived the battle.

The Virginia Beach retiree, whom friends call "Coop," shared that he recommended seven crew members for awards in the battle.

But Coop? He kept little but memories and scars from the sunburn and the shrapnel.

That bothered Walker, Waluda and a few others. They started a campaign of their own: They were going to surprise their friend Coop with a medal.

Soon, they recruited plenty of help - retired captains, a commander, Navy Cross winners, a master chief petty officer, a senator and the region's top admiral. They grounded through Navy bureaucracy and reached the secretary of the Navy himself.

"Yeah," said former gunner Waluda, "it was like we were coming over the horizon again."

On Monday at Little Creek Naval Amphibious Base, the Navy will award Coop with a Bronze Star.

Clarence Cooper's one-bedroom apartment in Virginia Beach is a well-tended shrine of memories that the retired senior chief petty officer collected during his 23 years of Navy service.

The 76-year-old widower lives alone and has lined his walls with memorabilia from his Navy years - framed prints of river battles, a carved wooden submarine, a detailed model of a Mark I patrol boat.

Coop left the whistle stop town of Tolar, Texas, in 1951 to enlist. He joined the submarine force and by the time he volunteered for riverine duty in Vietnam he was a 35-year-old chief petty officer.

He commanded a crew of about 18, most barely out of their teens. They called him "Chief Papi."

Their ship was a rebuilt, 133-foot World War II supply vessel called the Kodiak. It was based in a part of the delta with several river branches known to some GIs as the Head of the Dragon. The North Vietnamese loved to attack supply boats, and they had a knack for knowing when they were coming. "I just knew he was going to throw a welcoming party," Coop said.

About four miles up the Mekong river from their base, the ship reached a tight bend where the channel narrowed to 50 yards of navigable water. The ship slowed; the enemy pounced.

A missile slammed into the pilot house, and gunfire came from both banks. The crew returned fire but was soon overwhelmed.

Coop took the controls and called for support. Fast Navy patrol boats arrived in minutes. Walker and Waluda flew in behind them.

On deck, another rocket explosion spit shrapnel into the engineering space, piercing the skull of one young sailor. Walker told Coop he would bring his Seawolf down on the ship's railing to try to rescue the wounded man. Coop kept the ship steady against the current while Walker dodged fire and touched the aircraft's skid on the railing on the bow.

The ship lighted up with gunfire, smoke and paint chips. Waluda and the second gunner reached down to grab the bleeding sailor as the helicopter hovered a few feet above the deck.

They hauled the sailor into the aircraft, and Walker sped back to base to drop off the wounded and reload. The helicopter crews continued the fight for hours while the Kodiak retreated.

Walker wrote Cooper's grandson, Derek, a one-page note a few years ago about the battle: "The next time you look at your Grandfather know that he has faced extreme danger in combat, and because of his skill, courage and decisions, the enemy did not overcome. His ship and crew were saved. Derek, be well aware of the absolute fact that your Grandfather is a hero."

Coop piloted the badly damaged ship back to base. His clothes were torn and shrapnel pitted his legs. But he was in better shape the most of the crew. The men had fired 6,000 rounds in less than a half-hour.

A half-dozen of them received Purple Hearts. Three or four came home with Bronze or Silver stars. All came out alive, Coop said, even the grievously wounded young engineer.

Walker was awarded a Navy Cross, the service's second highest honor. Waluda received a Silver Star.

Cooper came back with a single line on his record: "Recommended for E-8."

He seldom told the story.

Gary Marker, a retired master chief petty officer, noticed one framed battle print on Coop's apartment wall during a visit 2-1/2 years ago.

It was a helicopter flying past a village of Viet Cong supporters, and it was signed by Jim Walker. Marker asked if he knew Walker, whose heroism was well-known in the Navy aviation community.

Coop explained the ambush, fight and Walker's daring rescue.

"We need to get you an award," Marker said.

Coop shrugged it off. "Don't worry about it," he said.

But Marker went home and sent an e-mail to a few retired officers. Because Cooper was in charge of the ship, he asked his friends, "Shouldn't he deserve a combat decoration? He received absolutely nothing."

Marker salted his e-mail with capital letters, bold type and exclamation marks: "He got screwed."

It is not easy to receive an award long after the fact. A veteran must petition his congressman to endorse a package to the individual service branch.

For combat awards, a Navy veteran must have two sworn eyewitness statements, a signed recommendation of the commanding officer at the time of the actions and official military documentation of the battle to back the veracity of the claim. When the package is complete, it is reviewed by two awards boards appointed by the top military and civilian commanders. The secretary of the Navy makes the final decision.

Four Vietnam veterans have received Bronze Star or higher awards since October, according to the Navy.

Marker and the vets quietly dug in. Allen "Wes" Weseleskey, a retired Navy captain and former service ombudsman, hunted leads and compiled a dossier. Walker and Waluda gladly swore to statements about Cooper's actions.

They found Coop's former boss, Capt. Max Duncan, retired in Georgia. Although Duncan commanded 5,000 personnel in Vietnam, he was embarrassed to learn that one his men failed to receive deserved recognition.

Duncan said he knew about the firefight but not about it's fierceness. He immediately set to work.

The application went through retired Sen. John Warner and into the Navy pipeline. It sat there for almost two years.

A frustrated Marker buttonholed Adm. Jonathan Greenert, commander of U.S. Fleet Forces at Norfolk Naval Station, at a Navy ceremony. Greenert listened as Marker explained Cooper's valor and their effort to get him recognized.

Marker went home and sent a lengthy e-mail to Greenert, detailing the story.

A few days later, Greenert responded with a personal e-mail. The region's top admiral, who has since been chosen for vice chief of naval operations, had checked the status of the award. He confirmed it had been "favorably forwarded" to the navy's top admiral.

After a four-star nudge, Coop's award papers appeared on the desk of the secretary of the Navy in five months.

A few weeks ago, Coop was volunteering at the Meyera Oberndorf Central Library in Virginia Beach when his cell phone rang. Coop glanced down and recognized the Georgia number - Duncan.

He answered and heard his former boss at the other end say, "Your heroism is finally going to be recognized."

They talked for a half hour, excited about the honor and ceremony. Duncan said he deserved a higher award. Coop said he was simply pleased to be recognized.

Despite his friends' efforts, Coop knew something was up. "Those things are hard to keep secret," he said.

But he didn't say anything about it.

Louis Hansen, (757) 222-5221, louis.hansen@pilotonline.com

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During the Vietnam war, Coop commanded the Kodiak, a rebuilt World War II supply ship that was attacked on Sept. 14, 1968.

Coop puts on his Vietnam War-era uniform. He learned of his Bronze Star commendation a few weeks ago through a phone call from his former commanding officer. (Hyunsoo Leo Kim | The Virginian-Pilot)

Vietnam War river patrol mascot Billyratt, Jr. sits on a guest futon at Sr. Chief Petty Officer Clarence Coop Cooper's home in Virginia Beach (Hyunsoo Leo Kim | The Virginian-Pilot)

[Slings and Arrows]

John Effing Kerry is not fit to lick this man’s *****.

[Squantos]

BTTT

[Tainan]

Bump

[EternalVigilance]

V-USA bump for an American hero! God bless and keep Sr. Chief Petty Officer Clarence "Coop: Cooper!

[csvset]

Nice of his shipmates to follow up and persevere for him.

[Squantos]

Indeed......brotherhood cast in fire.

Stay safe !

[Northern Yankee]

Outstanding article.

God Bless this hero.

Semper Fi!

[cbkaty]

Salute.....

[R. Scott]

Good to see this happen, better late than never.

I'm familiar with Vinh Long and stopped there a few times for an over night. It was quiet then. Everything changed during Tet 1968. We (Army LCU 1581) took a load of 155 mm self propelled howitzers to the area a few days after Tet broke out. We offloaded them and waited on the river for the next dawn. With sunrise we were asked if we could evacuate a medical mission from the Vinh Long seawall - of course we could. The German doctor and his wife jumped aboard with NVA in close pursuit. We took fire but no hits.
That was my last trip to that area. When we returned to Vung Tau the crew was flown up to take over another boat (LCU 1580) that had lost its crew working the Perfume River - Hue - and Cua Viet river - near the DMZ. I heard stories that many areas of the Delta stayed hot for months after Tet. Guess they were true.
For those not familiar with the small cargo boats that worked the rivers, we were slow, had no armor and were lightly armed. Gun shields were really just splash shields - thin soft steel. Stand up behind your gun and return fire. As noted in the story, even bulkheads offered no protection.

Vinh Long from the river

[ImpBill]

Thanks for posting. Always good news when one of our own gets recognition, even if it is long overdue.

[onedoug]

[AvOrdVet]

I went into HA(L)-4 in the late ‘80’s, we had a bunch of HA(L)-3’s HH1K Gunships... a few with the small patches that covered the many bullet holes, they always kept me thinking of the bubba’s that flew in them before me.

AOV

[river rat]

Great story.....

The “untold” story is that which would reveal the extent to which decorations for valor and heroism were distributed to ticket punching REMFs - usually officers of the various branches who never so much as got out of sight of the Saigon bars and whore houses or the Cam Ranh Bay nurses...

The practice led to a criminal cheapening of decorations given to men in the boonies who had to earn them “the hard way”.

I will reveal my natural but correct bias - by stating the Marine Corps seemed to have the best handle on preventing the practice of phony medal “gifting”.....

[R. Scott]

We supported the Americal (Burning Worm - 196th?) division for Operation Gallager in 1967. It was north of Quin Nhon.

[onedoug]

'Worked alot with the 196th west of Tam Ky/Danang, 68-69.

There's always been something about Vietnam...at least for me. Went back with my daughter in 2000, the country still bewitching.

Thanks for your service. Welcome Home!

[Squantos]

Yep decades long sore subject. Saw desk jockeys and nuthuggers that never left the confines of a air conditioned bunker in SEA, SWA, Saudi etc get bronze stars and then bitch about troops in the field getting a simple commendation medal ..........if there isn’t a “V” for valor on it , don’t even wear it around me.

My opinion........Stay safe !

[R. Scott]

It is a beautiful country. We’d sail up the coast and check out the beautiful beaches - miles and miles of pristine sand. Some of the rivers looked like good places to live.
I’d like to go back and visit someday.

[river rat]

"I’d like to go back and visit someday."

As you get closer to shore - you may have trouble drowning out the screams of those souls murdered by the Communist bastards running the place.....

[R. Scott]

I’ve often wondered about the friends I left behind - how many ended up in “reeducation” camps.