May 18, 1995 CONGRESSIONAL RECORD—HOUSE H 5359

Tishomingo Refuge. These restrictions will

prevent many people from enjoying activities

that have occurred since the refuge was created nearly 50 years ago. It is time to manage

the refuge system on a nationwide basis and

to make compatibility determinations based on

clear statutory language and not emotion or

individual bias.

Another issue that has caused great concern for many Americans involves the Fish

and Wildlife Service’s refuge land acquisition

policy. When a new refuge is created or additional acreage is added to an existing unit, all

traditional activities, including fishing and hunting, are prohibited until a management plan is

completed. This can take several years and, in

the meantime, millions of Americans are denied the opportunity to enjoy the natural resources that exist on these lands.

Finally, while the number of refuges continues to increase, there is no requirement to

complete a conservation plan for each refuge.

In my judgment, these plans are essential because they would identify the purposes of the

refuge; the fish, wildlife, and plant populations;

their habitats; any archaeological values; opportunities for fish- and wildlife-dependent

recreation; potential sites for administrative or

visitors facilities; and ways to correct or mitigate any problems. The general public would

be strongly encouraged to participate in the

writing of these plans.

Our Nation’s wildlife refuge system must be

managed more effectively in the future. This

system, which was first envisioned by President Theodore Roosevelt in 1903, needs to

have a statutory list of purposes, uniform

guidelines to determine what activities are permissible, comprehensive conservation plans,

and the enthusiastic support of the American

people who finance this system not only with

the payment of their tax dollars, but also by

purchasing duck stamps and paying excise

taxes on fishing and hunting equipment.

These are the goals of the National Wildlife

Refuge Improvement Act of 1995. This legislation will build upon and improve current law

by: making wildlife-dependent recreation, including fishing and hunting, a purpose of the

refuge system; defining the term ‘‘compatible

use’’; allowing historical uses to continue on

newly acquired lands unless those uses are

determined to be incompatible; requiring conservation plans for each refuge within 15

years; providing that fishing and hunting are

permitted unless a finding is made that these

activities are inconsistent with either the purpose of the refuge or public safety; and emphasizing a cooperative relationship with the

States who have primacy on the management

of fish and wildlife.

Mr. Speaker, this legislation will restore the

wildlife refuge system to the goals and intent

of the National Wildlife Refuge System Administration Act of 1966. It will ensure that this

system is alive and well for all our constituents

in the 21st century.

This measure has been endorsed by the

California Waterfowl Association, the Congressional Sportsmen’s Foundation, the National

Rifle Association, Safari Club International,

and the Wildlife Legislative Fund of America.

Furthermore, the views of the International Association of Fish and Wildlife Agencies and

the Wildlife Management Institute have been

sought and incorporated into this process.

I would urge my colleagues to join with me,

JOHN DINGELL, JIM HANSEN, BILL BREWSTER,

JOHN DOOLITTLE, BILLY TAUZIN, PETE GEREN,

SOLOMON ORTIZ, ELTON GALLEGLY, JIMMY

HAYES, KEN CALVERT, BLANCHE LAMBERT LINCOLN, J.D. HAYWORTH, FRANK CREMEANS, BARBARA CUBIN, WES COOLEY, JOHN SHADEGG,

and J.C. WATTS in this important effort by cosponsoring the National Wildlife Refuge Imprevious order of the House, the gentleman from Illinois [Mr. P

provement Act of 1995.

The SPEAKER pro tempore. Under a

f OSHARD] is

recognized for 5 minutes.

[Mr. POSHARD addressed the House.

His remarks will appear hereafter in

the Extensions of Remarks.]

CONTINUATION OF REMARKS ON

50TH ANNIVERSARY OF WORLD

fWAR II

The SPEAKER pro tempore. Under

the Speaker’s announced policy of May

12, 1995, the gentleman from California

[Mr. DORNAN] is recognized for 60 minutes as the designee of the majority

leader.

Mr. DORNAN. Madam Speaker, a

pretty exciting and historical day

today. What I wanted to do was to add

to this history by keeping a promise I

made last month that I would finish

my remarks on what was happening 50

years ago this week. The war in Europe

had ended, but the struggle for the

small series of islands comprising Okinawa and a smaller group of subsidiary

islands was one of the bloodiest fights

of the Pacific campaign.

Before I move forward to 1945, let me

point out the stories of two friends of

mine. Today, 30, years ago, in 1965, my

best friend in the Air Force, David

Hrdlicka, was shot down over Laos. He

was only TDY, down from the wing on

that island of Okinawa that so many

young men had died on just 20 years before, and during the 20th anniversary of

that 1945 struggle there we were taking

the first small steps back into combat

in Asia. David was in what I thought at

the time was the world’s greatest aircraft. I was desperately asking the Air

Force to recall me to active duty so

that I could fly Mach II, the world’s

only Mach II, twice the speed of sound,

aircraft, the F–105 Thunderchief, which

was eventually nicknamed after Robert

Strange, evil, McNamara’s no-win war.

It was the thud, semi-affectionately

given that name because of the number

shot down coming into the Red River

Valley, into the target area over Hanoi

and Haiphong, the sound of the big F–

105 hitting the ground, the thuds. More

Republic F–105 aircraft were lost in

combat, prorated to the number of

planes that flew in Southeast Asia,

than any other plane in the war. It carried the major burden of bombing up

north along with magnificent efforts

on the part of the Navy’s A–4’s, F–8’s,

and F–4’s, and then eventually A–6 Intruders.

b 1915

But the l05 was a special airplane. I

remember sitting with Dave Hrdlicka

in the base theater at George Air Force

base when some test pilots came over

from Edwards Air Force Base, our Air

Force test center, and threw up on the

screen big pictures of the F–105. We had

only seen pictures of the Mach–2 F–104

Starfighter a few months ago, but unlike the Starfighter, a tiny airplane,

with small, 7-foot wings, the F–105 was

the biggest fighter aircraft ever made,

longer from the pitot boom and its

nose to the tip of its vertical stabilizer

than was the World War II four-engine

B–17 Flying Fortress.

So there was Dave, having completed

with his lovely wife Carol and their little babies, a great tour in England, flying another outstanding aircraft, the

F–101 Voodoo. David flew at

Bentwaters, which had the only fighter

version of the F–101, all the rest were

interceptors or reconnaissance versions. A unique situation to have only

one Air Force wing of three squadrons

in the whole world where they, a twoengine fighter, the predecessor to the

four-generation, four-decade Phantom,

David, I thought, was leading a

charmed life from George Air Force

Base in the beautiful Mojave Desert to

England with all of its culture, defending Europe from the evil empire, and

then home for a while and then to this

great assignment at Okinawa. And suddenly here he is, flying over a country

that only a few years ago became famous because of a young President’s

accent talking about chaos in Laos.

And Dave gets hit from the ground.

Not a damaging hit to him personally, but hit the rear of the airplane,

made a radio call calmly that he was

going to have to eject. His wing man

saw him come down into a clearing. As

he was disengaging from his parachute,

trying to come up on his radio, they

saw men surround him, probably Communist Pathet Lao soldiers. And he

was taken off into the woods at the

edge of a clearing.

Years later, a photograph appears in

Moscow, reprinted in the Long Beach,

CA newspaper and sent to Carol where

she had gone home to her family to be

near a ranch which was her upbringing

with young children. And somebody

who knew the Hrdlickas from the Air

Force said, I think this is David’s picture in this Long Beach newspaper.

And they sent it to Carol.

She looked. Sure enough. Dave was

very distinctive, stocky, typical fighter

pilot, handsome face. And Carol called

the Air Force at the closest base,

which was probably Lowry and said,

‘‘Where is the briefing on my husband?

Here is his picture.’’

They were so embarrassed. I remember Carol telling me that they got the

highest ranking officer in the entire

area, a brigadier general, a man who

knew absolutely nothing about the

missing in action cause, and they sent

him out to Carol Hrdlicka’s house to

say something, anything. It was embarrassing for her and for him.

Thirty years later to this very day,

Carol is still finding out things from
H 5360 CONGRESSIONAL RECORD—HOUSE May 18, 1995

records that are being released that

were never told to her, including a rescue operation to free David who at one

point in the late 1960’s, he was a known

prisoner for 5 or 6 years, was held in a

cave with Charlie Shelton.

Charlie had been shot down in a reconnaissance aircraft, David being the

first fighter aircraft downing in Laos.

Charlie had gone down on his 33d birthday, on April 29, 1965.

I meant to come to the well and remember Charlie, too, although I did

not know him. He was my vintage, a

pilot training graduate. David was a

year behind me. I got to know his wife

Marian as well as I knew Carol over the

years. Marian committed suicide during the 25th year of Charlie’s imprisonment. He was kept on record as a POW,

the last one, the one and only POW

until a few months ago.

I went to his remembrance ceremony

at Arlington with his five grown children, children that would have been

Charlie’s grandchildren. His oldest son

is a Franciscan priest. The Hrdlicka

family is also Catholic.

These two men were known to be

held together in a cave, Charlie and

Dave. For years reports coming out

through intelligence sources of several

escape attempts, a report once that

Charlie had been wounded twice, recovered from his wounds, same kind of rumors about David. Then, as I said on

Jefferson’s birthday last month when I

declared for the Presidency, they just

sort of disappeared into the mist of

Asian history. I will not accept that.

That is why next month, as chairman

of the military personnel subcommittee, I am going to have hearings with a

focus just on Laos, what happened to

Col. Charlie Shelton and what happened to then a young major, now a

colonel, when he was declared presumptive finding of death, what happened to

David Hrdlicka?

What happened to the other 300 men

that all went down somewhere around

Laos?

It is interesting that the current Assistant Secretary for Asian Affairs,

Winston Lord, a former Ambassador,

wrote the memo to Kissinger that

Henry Kissinger fed to Nixon that had

Nixon go on national television when

the fourth and final big C–141 Starlifter

brought our men back on those freedom flights from Hanoi in the spring of

1973. The first flight landed appropriately on Lincoln’s birthday, February 12.

Six weeks later the fourth and final

freedom flight came out, and they all

flew nonstop from Hanoi’s main Mig

base airfield, still shot up from Linebacker II operations. They flew nonstop to Manilla. For men like our own

Sam Johnson, who served so brilliantly

and loyally on this side of the aisle,

who was part of this historic vote

today of 238 to 193, Sam had not had a

warm shower in 7 years until he hit

Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines, let alone a decent, warm meal.

Several of the men told me they

consumed five hamburgers and then

would go to waffles and bacon and eggs.

And the flight surgeons were sitting

right there and said, ‘‘Go ahead, gorge

yourselves.’’ But it was amazing to see

so much passage of time, twice as long

as World War II at 31⁄2 years, twice as

long as World War II was Sam Johnson

imprisoned. And there was one Green

Beret, Floyd Thompson, who was in exactly a week shy of 9 years.

It brings back memories of mine,

made me want to run for Congress, to

see if I could change this Government.

It was so insufferable that an evil man

like McNamara could allow the best

and the brightest of our military academies, the best and brightest of our

aviation cadets and ROTC graduates to

rot in prison for 9 years, 8 years for Ed

Alvarez and 7 for men like Sam Johnson, in Laos. Nothing.

Then Winston Lord feeds this memo

to Henry Kissinger, by then Secretary

of State, and he feeds it to Nixon. And

Nixon goes on television and says, all

the men who were prisoners in Laos

have been accounted for. Well, that absolutely was not true.

The North Vietnamese Communists,

in an ugly little effort at the very end

on that bright morning in Hanoi, end

of March 1973, took 10 men who had

been captured in Laos by North Vietnamese troops and all taken into the

Hanoi prison system, except for one, a

CIA Air America man named Ernie

Brace, who had been in a small prison

at Dien Bien Phu, where the French

had lost their final battle in the spring

of 1954. Ernie Brace was held at Dien

Bien Phu for 3 weeks. And then he, like

the other nine, was immediately moved

into the Hanoi prison system. So these

were North Vietnamese, Hanoi-held

prisoners.

Nixon either deliberately or knowingly announced to the world, all the

Laotian-held prisoners are home. And

not a one was home. Not Charlie

Shelton, not David Hrdlicka, not any

of the other roughly 298.

I remember saying at the time, I

have been saying it for the last two

decades, where was the warning to our

men that if your plane is shot up over

the target areas over North Vietnam

and you are smoking or you are losing

power, or your pieces are coming off

your airplane, do not try to get across

Laos, back to your Thailand bases? Do

not try to rendezvous with a helicopter, that rescue, Jolly Green Giant

chopper in sight, bend it around, punch

out, and parachute into North Vietnam, because there your odds are about

75, 80 percent that you will be coming

home someday. But if you bail out over

Laos and that chopper does not jerk

you out, the penetrator cable does not

come down and pull you out of a triple

canopy jungle, you will never be heard

from again by your fellow citizens.

What an ugly shame.

So at the hearings next month,

maybe I will have one of the grown

Shelton sons or daughters come and

tell us what these 30 years and 20 days

have been like for them. I know Carol,

Carol Hrdlicka has said she will come

to tell us what her struggle has been

like, trying to get justice out of her

Government for 30 years.

And because Carol is watching on television, I wanted to tell another story

involving another hero who passed

away a few days ago on May 7. He was

a family friend. I only met him once as

a young boy. My mother had met him

when he was assigned to Palm Springs

Army Air Force Base. Basically a P–38

base, and a B–26 wing was coming

through, the B–26 Martin Marauder,

the 22d bomb wing was on its way to

the South Pacific, the first medium

bomb wing to go over, the first B–26

Marauders to go into combat.

Walter Krell was a young captain.

My mother had on the dresser in her

room a picture of herself, my aunt, who

is still alive and vigorous, I hope she is

watching, Flo Haley, the wife of the tin

man in the Wizard of Oz, and some

other friends. They were trying to buck

up the spirits of these young P–38 and

B–26 pilots on their way to the South

Pacific.

They would sometimes pool their

money and see if they could not get a

plane ticket or very rare DC–3 flight to

have the wives come and join them in

Palm Springs. And my mother used to

tell me about this picture. He was

handsome, Walter Krell, looking a little bit older than the other young

fighter pilots. There was one very

young handsome pilot named Pepino.

My mom would point to him and say,

Pepe, as the men called him, said:

Why are they making us get all of the various shots, going into a jungle area, inoculations, because none of us P–38 pilots are coming back; we are all going to get killed in

combat; we are working out how to use this

big heavy P–38 against these light superior

Japanese zeros, and the young men that

come after us, they will whip the Japanese

zeros, but we are the guinea pigs.

And she said he pointed over to Walter Krell and said:

Walt over here, he will probably come back

because he has got bomber duty.

Well, for the bomber pilots, it is

every bit, if not even more hazardous.

But Walter Krell, in this photograph

with four or five fighter pilots and himself, he was the only one who came

back.

I remember meeting him on Waldron

Drive in Beverly Hills when he came to

see us. He was so old looking and mature. I was 12 years of age. He could not

have been more than 26 or 27. And I remember him having dinner with my

parents and spending the day with us

and telling a few stories about the

South Pacific. After I came to this

Congress, on my second tour here in

the mid-1980’s, I got a letter from a

Walter Krell, a veterinarian in Yreka,

Northern California.

b 1930

He said ‘‘Are you BOB DORNAN, the

son of Mickey Dornan,’’ my mother,

‘‘who gave me a small St. Christopher
May 18, 1995 CONGRESSIONAL RECORD—HOUSE H 5361

to wear around my neck, which I wore

through 120 combat missions in the

South Pacific? Is that you? Because

your mother wrote me in 1953 and

asked for that small St. Christopher

back, so that her son could wear it

through pilot training.’’

Madam Speaker, here is that St.

Christopher medal, on the back of a

larger medal with the face of Christ.

This little St. Christopher took Walt

Krell, who died Sunday, May 7, took

him through 120 combat missions, including flying lead when President-tobe Lyndon Baynes Johnson was getting

his one combat ride, for which Sam

Rayburn engineered a Silver Star,

amazingly. When Lyndon Johnson was

in the back of another B–26 it was off

Walt Krell’s wing, then first lieutenant, soon to be Captain Krell, was leading—he was a captain by then—he was

leading this flight when Japan’s leading ace, who is still alive, I believe,

Saboro Sakai, was rolling in trying to

shoot down one of these B–26’s, the one

with Johnson on it, or the one that was

leading the flight with Walter Krell.

When I got in touch with Walter and

found out there was a painting out

there of his beautiful B–26 in combat,

from the point of view of Saboro Sakai

rolling in on him, I sent it to Saboro

Sakai. He autographed it and last year

Walter sent it back to me with his autograph on it.

Here is an article that Walt sent me

that I put in the CONGRESSIONAL

RECORD last year. I would like to read

part of it to America here, to the million or so people that watch this, to

give a little bit of the flavor of a young

Walt Krell in the South Pacific in 1942,

the darkest year in American history

since the Civil War, and maybe after

the hearings next month with Carol

Hrdlicka, I will do something from the

Shelton children and something from

the Hrdlicka children. I have gotten to

know Dave, Jr., who flew F–18 hornets

in the Navy and is now an American

Airlines 727 pilot, I think, domiciled

out of Houston.

By the way, today, Madam Speaker, I

chaired my first subcommittee ever,

the Military Personnel Subcommittee.

It was a good chairman’s mark in that

we have 39 pages of the best legislation

I have ever seen, section 563, ‘‘Determination of the Whereabouts and Status of Missing Persons.’’

The gentleman from New York, BEN

GILMAN, originated this legislation in

the Committee on International Relations, and Senate majority leader BOB

DOLE, a World War II veteran over on

the Senate side. I am very proud of

this. I hope that anybody that is interested in this and wants to see it will

write to the Committee on Armed

Services and get this legislation. Anything we have missed here we will perfect with this focus on Laos next

month.

By the way, when Walter Krell, about

24 or 25 years old, was flying B–26’s in

1942 out of New Guinea, BOB DOLE

would have been 18 years of age, thinking about becoming an Army officer

and going either to the Pacific or to

Europe.

Here is Walter Krell’s article entitled

‘‘Incendiary Bombs to Rabaul.’’

‘‘In early 1942, Army Air Force Ordnance developed an aerial incendiary

bomb, a device 4 feet long and 16 inches

or so in diameter. It consisted of 36 individual incendiary units, tiny

bomblets with fins and detonators all

wired together. The entire bundle, or

contained unit, was attached to the

shackles on our Martin B–26 Marauder

bomb bay racks like an ordinary bomb,

to be released in the standard way.

Each B–26 would carry 30 or more of

these incendiary clusters.

There was one simple difference between high explosive bombs and incendiary bombs. When the arming wire

was pulled away upon release of these

new incendiaries, a shotgun shell would

fire a slug that would cut the wires

holding together the bundle of

bomblets. Then the 36 individual

bomblets would break up, releasing

each separate incendiary unit to fall on

the target. The arming wire was supposed to be of sufficient length to allow

the incendiary mother-bomb to clear

the aircraft before the arming wire

pulled loose and fired the shotgun shell

thereby dispersing the cluster. Of

course, nobody bothered to tell that to

the B–26 aircrew/gunners who helped

with bomb loading, so they routinely

clipped the wire short as was done with

ordinary iron bombs. The result was

that upon ‘bombs away’, the clusters

came apart while still within our bomb

bays, clattering around and bouncing

off the structural members of the aircraft. These incendiary bomblets were

magnesium, and had any of them

lodged in the many angular recesses of

the fuselage, it would have been very

exciting indeed.

‘‘When I experienced the first release

of incendiaries my B–26 was flying only

15 feet above those powerful little

bomblets tumbling away, when many

of them began igniting and burning.

After that the bomb loading of incendiaries had the undivided attention of

our entire crew of 6.’’ In those days

they did use two side door gunners.

‘‘Now that we, in the 22d Bomb

Group, had interesting new bombs, it

was decided they should be delivered

all over the docking facilities at Rabaul. The first mission to try to do just

that would be a flight of three Marauders. Lt. Chris Herron would lead and

Lt. George Kersting would be flying his

right wing with me on his left.’’

For all I know, the family members

of one of these two men are hearing

their name now on the House floor.

‘‘After an early morning take-off

from 7-Mile Airfield near Fort

Moresby, New Guinea, our Marauders

flew northeast, climbed over the OwenStanley Mountains, descended over the

north coast of New Britain, and then

turned east to Rabaul Harbor. Unhappily, for an undetermined cause, gasoline siphoned from my right wing

tanks for a full 45 minutes after takeoff. Because we never returned home

from those long Rabaul missions with

much fuel to spare, my crew was obviously worried. To turn back, however,

would have aborted the raid for the

other two crews. We flew on.

Chris Herron was clever the way he

took us in to the target. Still heading

east, we kept descending and skirted

the north side of the Rabaul Harbor at

low level, then banked right and pulled

into a hard 180-degree turn up and over

the rim of the volcanic hills that circled the harbor on the north side.’’

I might remind people that this was

the major Japanese forward staging air

base and harbor for capital ships in all

of the South Pacific.

‘‘I remember clearly from my left

wing position in our very tight turn,

looking to my right across Herron’s B–

26 and seeing George Kersting’s

propwash mash down the tops of coconut trees. Chris then rolled us right

down on the deck and along the wharfs,

and headed west.

‘‘There was a Japanese cargo vessel

tied up broadside along the first dock

with dozens of loading personnel moving about on the freighter’s deck, and

at dockside. All of them were totally

surprised. I vividly remember their reaction of panic. Two Japanese loaders

were carrying something up a gangplank that resembled a litter. Suddenly

they dropped the litter and while the

guy in the back was still looking up,

the guy in front wheeled around and

charged back right over the top of the

litter thing, and slammed into the guy

staring up at us.’’

Madam Speaker, I flew the B–2, the

flying wing, the ‘‘Spirit,’’ B–2 ‘‘Spirit,’’

on the first of this month, 6 days before

Walt died. I was going to call him and

see if I could come and see him, traveling around the country in this quest.

That is a two-engine airplane. He

would have gotten a big thrill, and I’m

sure he is listening now—if he is not,

he was busy in his first—he is in his

12th day up there in that big hangar in

the sky.

This is a story that is hard for pilots

to realize how things are burned into

your brain, little quick shots. Imagine

coming across the water at full speed,

a full load of bombs, a surprise attack

on the biggest Japanese harbor in the

South Pacific, and your eye is picking

up this scene on the dock of a guy turning around and running into the guy at

the back of the litter, staring up at

Walt Krell’s B–26.

‘‘I could see that Lt. Herron intended

to try to take out this ship, which was

positioned parallel to our line of flight.

This would have forced me to waste my

bombs out in the open harbor to my

left, so I dropped down and moved

ahead of Chris and took the lead, forcing our formation to the right over the

docking area with its stacked supplies

and many warehouses: ‘‘Bombs away.’’

I immediately banked left and headed

south towards the Rabaul channel and
H 5362 CONGRESSIONAL RECORD—HOUSE May 18, 1995

away from the exploding docks, thinking Herron and Kersting would hang

onto my right wing until we were clear

and I could slide back into position.

‘‘Chris apparently went his own way,

but in my left turn I could not see

where he was. Not wanting to roll back

into him, I continued my hard turn,

yelling to my co-pilot to try and pick

up the formation. I was now heading

back around toward the east rim of the

harbor with anti-aircraft flak popping

all around us, and some of it starting

to explode much too close.

‘‘I twisted my Marauder back and

forth to foil the anti-aircraft gunners

until I was back across the harbor east

rim and above an active smoking volcano. In spite of this fast-moving action, I was fascinated by the volcano’s

shimmering, silvery walls as I pushed

over and dipped down inside the crater

itself. I banked again changing course

back to the right, and then flew up and

over the volcano’s western lip.

‘‘There below, streaking out through

the Rabaul Channel,’’ right on the

deck, ‘‘were Herron and Kersting, so I

winged over and swooped down to join

up. We were back in a three ship ‘V’

formation just as the Japanese Navy

Zero fighters jumped us. It was touch

and go for about 20 minutes, when

straight ahead loomed a sheer wall of

thick clouds, black, with torrential

rain. We spread out and plunged into

the weather, very happy to wipe off the

swarming enemy fighters. Tropical

fronts were not new to the pilots of our

bomb group, but never before had we

encountered anything to equal the intensity of this storm.

‘‘Within minutes our 2,000 horsepower radial engines started to run

roughly because of the excessive cooling of the heavy rain. The rainwater

was also driving into the magnetos,

which are mounted up forward on the

Pratt and Whitney engines. We closed

our oil shutters and cowl flaps, but

that did not seem to help much. In

most South Pacific rainstorms, we

found there was usually a clear gap for

your aircraft to fly between the ocean

and the bottom layer of the weather

front. But not this time. In order to

see, so I could stay above the waves, I

was aided in flying by opening my side

window.’’

I can hardly imagine this.

‘‘After about 25 intense minutes, I

flew out of the extremely turbulent

storm clouds and made a climbing turn

to see if we could pick up the other two

B–26’s. The skies were empty, and with

no radio response to our many calls, we

headed for home.

‘‘My co-pilot was I.B. Against my

sense of justice, I withhold his full

name.’’

Actually, Walt Krell had his name in.

It was my sense of justice when I

helped rewrite this that took out his

name.

My co-pilot ‘‘had not been overjoyed

with my maneuvers in dodging the flak

back at Rabaul. He was particularly

unhappy when I had to whack him

across the mouth with the back of my

hand to get him off the controls during

my in-and-out-of-the-volcano caper.’’

I guess you would not find this in a

Hollywood script, Madam Speaker.

‘‘He was sulking as we gained altitude to clear the Owen Stanley Mountains once more. The weather was now

clear, with some broken clouds. I told

I.B. to take it, and to make sure to

clear the mountains by at least 1,000

feet. Then within minutes I fell dead

asleep.’’

It is kind of a thrill to know that the

St. Christopher that I have been wearing for 42 years was around his neck at

this moment.

‘‘I woke a short time later. We had

cleared the mountains and were in a

gradual descent, but my co-pilot was

definitely not relaxed at the controls.

Instead, he was staring straight ahead

with a strange look on his face. My

cockpit was in shambles, with scattered papers, maps, and manuals

strewn everywhere. I turned around to

check the guys in the navigator’s compartment, and they were ashen-faced.

‘What the hell happened?’ I asked,

quickly figuring out that my co-pilot

had skimmed the mountain too low

and had gotten into an awful thump of

a turbulent downdraft. Suddenly at

that moment the right engine quit,

starved for that 45 minutes of fuel that

had siphoned overboard on our

climbout. I quickly feathered the right

prop. We were very light by now and

had good altitude, so we easily made

our 7-Mile Airfield home base. While

still on the landing roll, our left engine

quit, also out of gas. I was able to coast

off far enough to one side to clear the

runway and wait for a tow. George

Kersting’s Marauder made it home

shortly after us, but no sign of our lead

B–26.

‘‘Within hours we learned that Chris

Herron had lost an engine because of

the heavy downpour in that tropical

storm. Chris’ co-pilot, an Australian

officer who was a former airline pilot,

advised that they fly due south. The

Aussie co-pilot knew of a small island

with a landing strip. Herron opted to

land with their gear down. Tragically,

the B–26’s nosewheel folded and the aircraft flipped over on them, crushing

the cockpit. Chris and his Australian

co-pilot were killed. The bombardier

and navigator, Lieutenant Barnhill and

Lieutenant Wright, survived the crash,

as did the two crewchief gunners.’’

If you are alive out there, Lieutenant

Barnhill or Lieutenant Wright, please

write Congressman BOB DORNAN.

‘‘Chris Herron was truly one of the

great ones, a natural leader who earned

the praise and affection of his crew and

all of his colleagues in the 22d Bomb

Group. A day or two later I flew my B–

26 ‘‘Kansas Komet,’’ that’s right, Walter Krell grew up, just like BOB DOLE,

in Kansas, ‘‘I flew the ‘Kansas Komet’

back to Australia. As I chopped our engines on the ramp at Townsville Airfield, my co-pilot, the same I.B., was

the first one out and on the ground.

When I hit the ground, he snarled at

me ‘I will never fly with you again, and

I will never fly in that airplane again.’

b 1945

I told him he was breaking my heart.

And what did our outstanding group

leadership do with this disgruntled

lieutenant? Why, they let him hang

around group operations for several

weeks, assisting in the combat briefings for the rest of us who were flying

missions while the colonels found

somewhere else to transfer him. A General Jimmy Doolittle would have

ripped off his wings, stripped him down

to his jock strap and had him tethered

to a mule harness to start supplies over

the Owen Stanleys.

Several weeks after that first incendiary mission, Capt. Al Fletcher, our

22d Group intelligence officer, told me

that a Japanese diary had been recovered from a crashed enemy aircraft. In

the diary the writer told of an incendiary raid on Rabaul by three Martin B–

24 Marauders that had caused many

fires, all of which had been contained

except for the fires caused by the incendiaries that had fallen into the open

hatch of a moored freighter.

Those fires on board the ship could

not be controlled. They reignited the

dock and then the warehouse area,

burned fiercely for hours, and came

within a fraction of torching off a large

ammo dump.

I am sorry I never saw that captured

diary that described the impact of Lt.

Chris Herron’s final mission for his

country. Yes, sir, he was one of the

very best.

That is all I know about Chris

Herron. And another of America’s

World War II heroes, Walter Krell, goes

to his eternal reward on Sunday, May

7. A few years later on that island of

Okinawa, here is what a small press report sounds like for yesterday:

‘‘The 6th Marine Division makes its

11th attack on May 17, 1945,’’ 50 years

ago yesterday, ‘‘up Sugar Loaf Hill

after a pulverizing bombardment by

Navy and Marine artillery, fighter

bombers and naval gunfire. Once again

the Marines take the hill crest but suffer heavy casualties and must withdraw.’’

Madam Speaker, I want to read that

again. What was happening 50 years

ago as we began to clear out the German concentration camps on the other

side of the world, and try and save people dying by the hundreds if not thousands because they only knew a few

days of freedom, they were so malnourished, before God took them.

But here on the other side of the

world, on Okinawa, far worse than

what I had talked about on the House

floor, the casualties at Iwo Jima, but

here in this 86-day battle, still not

over, that started at the beginning of

last month, here on the 11th assault on

Sugar Loaf, I walked this terrible

ground on Okinawa once, could hardly

conceive of the change of real estate,

ugly real estate, back and forth. They
May 18, 1995 CONGRESSIONAL RECORD—HOUSE H 5363

must withdraw after winning the

ground on the 11th attack.

Nearby the First Marine Division

takes Wana Draw and knocks out some

of the Japanese big guns that were zeroed in on Sugar Loaf. Then the Army

comes in, a surprise dawn attack by

the 77th ‘‘Statue of Liberty Division.’’

They take a ridge on the Shuri line,

eastern end. The 77th also reaches the

top of Flat Hill Drive, takes it.

And then the 77th Division is driven

off by a counterattack. What would

make young American Marines and

GI’s give up ground that they had just

taken? Only one thing: horrible casualties. Wounded and dying men all

around you. Seeing in that clear Pacific air hundreds of Japanese infantry

forces who were fighting with an incredible spirit, that if we had ever had

to invade Japan would have killed a

million of them and 300,000 of our men.

Hence the stupidity and arrogance of

this argument over at the Smithsonian

over how to display the fuselage of the

Enola Gay, coming up on the 50th anniversary of the first two atomic bombs

on August 6 and 9. It was merciful to

the Japanese in this frenzy of combat.

And all this killing is still going on

down in the Philippine Islands 50 years

ago today. Although the Japanese

down there were falling back, here they

are fighting with a courageous ferocity. Offshore a kamikaze sends the destroyer Douglas H. Fox back to the

States for extensive repairs.

As I recall, the day before this 50

years ago the Enterprise had been hit;

the Enterprise, which had not been at

Coral Sea but had survived the battle

of Midway, all the serious combat

around Guadalcanal and all the Solomon Islands. It had been in the battle

of the Philippine Sea, in the battle of

Leyte Gulf. It had more battle stars

than any other carrier, had counted for

shooting down, I think, 991 Japanese

airplanes. It gets hit by a Japanese kamikaze, loses its forward loading elevator and is on its way back to Puget

Sound on this very day 50 years ago.

Then planes from the carrier Ticonderoga further south attacked the Japanese garrisons on Taroa Island and

Maloelap Atoll in the central Pacific

Marshall Islands.

So we have got combat going on Okinawa, still looking for a last few snipers down in the caves in Iwo Jima,

fighting in the Philippines and attacking some of the other Japanese naval

bases.

Madam Speaker, here to personalize

this, which I would like to do, down to

one man. In my Medal of Honor book

here is a story about the young Marine

major and how tough people would

fight to inspire their men. An incredible story.

This one more story about day before

yesterday. A battalion of the 6th Marine Division led by Maj. Harry

Courtney makes an American banzai

charge on Okinawa’s Sugar Loaf Hill.

This was 2 days before this 11th attack

today and yesterday.

The Marines take the hill and then

are driven off. Courtney is awarded a

posthumous Medal of Honor.

B–29’s destroy, meanwhile, up in

Japan the Mitsubishi aircraft engine

plant and 3.6 square miles of Nagoya.

The Japanese sowed the wind and now

they were reaping the whirlwind.

Meanwhile U.S. scientists and bomb

experts at Los Alamos, NM select Hiroshima, and now comes the lucky

names, for target, Kokura spared by

God’s call, I guess, Kyoto, one of the 5

biggest cities, and Yokohama, second

biggest city, all likely targets for

atomic bombs.

Hiroshima, which ironically was the

most Christian city in Japan, and Nagasaki, where Portuguese Christian

missionaries, Jesuits, had landed years

before—they were selected. Hiroshima

seems especially a good target because

the surrounding hills will focus the

blast.

Now to Major Courtney. His name is

Henry, same as my dad. Same nickname, ‘‘Harry.’’ Harry Courtney, 29

years of age, was awarded the Medal of

Honor for 2 days of action, the 14th and

15th of this week, 50 years ago, May

1945.

‘‘U.S. Marine Corps Reserve, born 6

January 1916 in Duluth, MN. Appointed

from Minnesota. For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his

life above and beyond the call of duty,

as the exec. officer of the 2nd Battalion, 22nd Marines, the 6th Marine Division.’’ None of those units exist anymore. ‘‘In action against Japanese

forces on Okinawa Shime in the Ryukyu Islands. Ordered to hold for the

night in static defense behind Sugar

Loaf Hill after leading the forward elements of his command in a prolonged

fire fight, Major Courtney weighed the

effect of a hostile night counterattack

against the tactical value of an immediate Marine assault, resolved to initiate the assault, and promptly obtained

permission to advance and seize the

forward slope of the hill. Quickly explaining the situation to his small, tattered remaining force, he declared his

personal intention of leading and moving forward and then proceeded on his

way, boldly blasting nearby cave positions and neutralizing enemy guns as

he went. Inspired by his courage, every

man followed without hesitation, and

together the intrepid Marines braved a

terrific concentration of Japanese guns

to skirt the hill on the right and reach

the reverse slope. Harry Courtney sent

guides to the rear for more ammunition and possible replacements. Subsequently reinforced by 26 men and an

LDT load of grenades’’—I guess that is

land vehicle tank—‘‘he determined to

storm the crest of the hill and crush

any planned counterattack before it

could gain sufficient momentum by

effecting a breakthrough. Leading his

men by example rather than by command, he pushed ahead with unrelenting aggressiveness hurling grenades

into cave openings on the slope with

devastating effect. Upon reaching the

crest and observing large numbers of

Japanese forming for action to attack

less than 100 yards away, he instantly

attacked, waged a furious battle and

succeeded in killing many of the

enemy himself and forcing the remainder to take cover in the caves. Determined to hold, he told his men to dig

in, and coolly disregarding the continuous hail of flying enemy shrapnel, he

moved to rally his weary troops, tirelessly aiding casualties, and assigned

his men to more advantageous positions. He was then instantly killed by

a hostile mortar blast while moving

among his men. Maj. Harry Courtney

by his astute military acumen, indomitable leadership and decisive action in

the face of overwhelming odds had contributed essentially to the success of

the Okinawa campaign. His great personal valor throughout sustained his

men and enhanced the highest traditions of the U.S. Navy. He gallantly

gave his life for his country.’’

Walter Krell, Chris Herron and the

fledgling Army Air Force, Maj. Harry

Courtney with the Marine Corps, Charley Shelton, and Dave Hrdlicka over

Laos. Again the last lines of Mitchner’s

great story of flying in Korea comes to

mind, his fictitious admiral based on a

Mark Mitchner or Bull Halsey type,

played so beautifully by Frederick

March says, ‘‘Where do we get such

men? Why is America lucky enough to

have such men?’’

Madam Speaker, when I was on the

floor last month about Okinawa, I

mentioned that we do have one Member, BOB STUMP, who served on the

ships watching the young wounded

come aboard. He was barely 18. He had

fudged his age to join a couple of years

before, trained at Pearl Harbor and was

off the coast of Okinawa.

Madam Speaker, I include the following article for the RECORD:

[From the Hill, Apr. 5, 1995]

MEMORIES OF OKINAWA—REPRESENTATIVE

BOBBY STUMP RECALLS HIS ROLE IN THE

HISTORIC BATTLE ON ITS 50TH ANNIVERSARY

(By David Grann)

Bobby Stump wanted to become a doctor,

but when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor

in December 1941, he did what all his friends

did: He enlisted.

There was only one catch. He was only 16.

‘‘I had to boost my age up,’’ the 68-year-old

Arizona Republican congressman recalls.

‘‘All my friends were seniors in high school,

and, technically, I wasn’t old enough.’’

Training as a medical technician for the

Navy on Pearl Harbor, he later helped operate at sea on dozens of U.S. servicemen

wounded in the bloody battles of Luzon and

Iwo Jima. On April 1, 1945, he was on board

a ‘‘flat top’’ aircraft carrier steaming toward

the 60-mile-long, banana-shaped island of

Okinawa.

Fifty-years later, the silver-haired chairman of the House Veterans’ Affairs Committee, who believes he is the only member of

Congress who fought at Okinawa, recalled in

an interview the beautiful clear day that

launched the most devastating naval battle

of World War II. Over 1,200 ships carrying

more than 180,000 marines, sailors and soldiers converged on the rocky Pacific island.

‘‘It was Easter Sunday,’’ he says. ‘‘We

didn’t know exactly what to expect, but we
H 5364 CONGRESSIONAL RECORD—HOUSE May 18, 1995

knew it was going to be bad. We were getting

ready to attack the mainland of Japan, and

this was a final step.’’

His aircraft carrier was part of an arsenal

of 40 large and small carriers, 18 battleships

and nearly 200 destroyers. As they moved

through the East China Sea, sailors searched

the skies for the dreaded Kamikaze suicide

planes.

‘‘They would come straight in, or drop

bombs from under their bellies.’’ Stump recalls. ‘‘It didn’t matter if you were on a big

or little ship. They’d try to hit everything.’’

Although his ship was never hit directly,

he watched other ships sinking in flames. His

ship rescued sailors from the stormy seas. As

the battle dragged into May, there were endless alerts, as planes roared across the night

sky.

Stump witnessed first hand what one war

correspondent described in Ronald Spector’s

account of the battle, Eagle Against the Sun:

‘‘The strain of waiting, the anticipated terror made vivid from past experience, sent

some men into hysteria, insanity, breakdown.’’

Stump, who turned 68 on Tuesday,

downplays his personal experience. Instead,

he speaks solemnly of his friends who lost

more than him, those who never came home

after the invasion.

‘‘It was worse than Luzon and Iwo Jima,’’

he says. ‘‘Nothing compared.’’

On June 21, when the guns finally quieted,

7,000 U.S. marines and soldiers were dead. In

the protracted sea-air battle offshore, where

Stump was, over 5,000 sailors were killed and

5,000 more wounded.

The toll on the Japanese was equally devastating. Over 70,000 Japanese died, along

with more than 80,000, mostly civilian Okinawans. ‘‘It was the last ditch effort for the

Japanese to stop us, and they fought and

fought,’’ says Stump.

After the bitter struggle, Stump finally set

sail for home. He had been at sea for over

two years. As ships with American recruits

passed him heading for Japan, President

Truman ordered the first atomic bomb

dropped on Hiroshima, followed by a second

nuclear weapon on Nagasaki.

It was the only way to stave off an even

costlier invasion of the Japanese mainland,

Stump says, and a death toll even larger

than Okinawa. He was incensed when the

Smithsonian Museum recently planned an

exhibit of the Enola Gay, suggesting America did not have to bomb Hiroshima in order

to end the war.

‘‘Anyone who was at Okinawa,’’ he says,

‘‘anyone who saw that kind of fighting, knew

what an invasion of Japan would really mean

and what was at stake.’’

And he adds: ‘‘They would not try to rewrite history.’’

Mr. DORNAN. This battle that started on Easter Sunday, April 1, had now

been raging for 48 days, barely halfway

through the battle. It was the last invasion before the assault on Japan’s

home islands. Okinawa was needed, of

course, as a harbor for our U.S. fleet

and to build more air bases for the

fighters and heavy bombers to get

them up closer. The Iwo Jima invasion

was necessary as a halfway point. We

lost over 6,000 men and saved, 3 to 1,

18,000 air crewmen to come back to Iwo

Jima. Now we are moving in closer to

finish off the war. The big island would

be used as a staging area for the invasion of the southern island of Kyushu

and the planned assault later on

Honshu, the middle Japanese island

where Tokyo is. What a campaign we

avoided by all of this brave action.

These Japanese kamikaze or suicide

attacks were called ‘‘kikusui,’’ floating

chrysanthemums. There were flown

against the invasion fleet all around

the island. Most aircraft were flown by

young men with hardly any hours at

all as pilots. Almost half of the attacking force were kamikaze. I wonder how

you got to not fly a kamikaze and get

to have a parachute and enough fuel to

get you home?

The attacks also included more traditional methods of attack by fighters

and bombers. Most were shot down by

ships of the invading forces and U.S.

and British naval aircraft. The Americans and the British lost 763 aircraft.

That is almost as many as we have in

all of our stateside fighter squadrons

now. 763. But the Japanese lost 10

times that, 7,700 aircraft. Thirty-four

U.S. ships were sunk. Naval forces lost

4,900 sailors, killed or missing, and in

naval combat when somebody is missing, they are gone, beneath the waves,

no remains to go home, no grave to

visit.

b 2000

From March 17 to May 27, the U.S.

Navy suffered its worst losses in the

war; at least 90 ships sank or were out

of action for 30 to 90 days, all of that

during last month, this month and next

month 50 years ago.

Because of Clinton’s appearance in

Moscow, flying over England, which

was a grievous insult to the British and

the French, all of our allies along the

coast, the Dutch, the Belgians, the

Danes, because he went to the European ceremonies in Moscow, in a

strange way not honoring the fact that

we fought together in an allied cause,

but unfortunately recalling that Stalin, in his evil, he reigned for 29 years,

Hitler for 12.

So Stalin killed millions and millions of more people than even the horrible Adolf Hitler. Stalin caused this

conflict in Europe by signing a HitlerStalin pact in 1940. Both of them invaded Poland, cutting it in half. Then

Stalin began to trade and gave war materials to Hitler so he could further

crush and suppress the rest of Europe,

and then as with all deals made with

the approval of the devil, Hitler, on

June 22, 1941, shortly before our being

dragged into this by Pearl Harbor at

the end of the year, he attacks the

other ugly evil force of this century,

the Communists in Russia; unbelievable, cataclysmic events.

Madam Speaker, I had intended to

come to this floor, but I did not want

to distract from our great vote, when

McNamara’s book first came out last

month.

I got to host a radio show for 3 hours

that is hosted by Ronald Reagan’s son,

Michael, and on the show, because

McNamara’s book was prominent in

the news at that time, I had two important guests. One was the best military

writer in America today. He has got a

great article in today’s Washington

Times, Col. Harry Summers, the senior

editor of Vietnam magazine.

Summers came on the radio with me,

and I read his article from that day,

last month, from that day’s commentary section of the Washington

Times, and he said that there were

many men culpable for the terrible loss

in Vietnam during those early years

when we could have achieved a victory

by mining Haiphong Harbor, concentrating our energies in I Corps, sealing the Ho Chi Minh trail, giving the

Vietnamese the same type of aircraft

we were giving the British, the Turks,

and the Greeks. We were giving F–4

‘‘Phantoms’’ to everybody, but in a

racist way, we treated our South Vietnamese allies as though they were not

worthy of top-line equipment. They

might take the war north as Lee took

it north to Antietam and Gettysburg.

No, bottle them up in the South, teach

them to be subservient, and we will

handle all the artillery and all the air

cover, so we wean them away from

fighting the way they should have as a

counter-guerrilla conflict.

In those early years he said there

were many people culpable. He even

takes a shot at honorable General

Westmoreland. He said McNamara was

different. NcNamara was evil. Nobody

has used that word on this House floor.

I bet it has never been used in the Senate. I said on the air that night on 100

stations, I said, ‘‘Colonel Summers,

you are correct, Robert Strange McNamara is an evil man. Never in my lifetime, maybe not in this century,

maybe not throughout the Civil War,

have we had a man personally responsible along with President Johnson for

killing so many Vietnamese on both

sides, 2 million or more North Vietnamese.’’ All the young soldiers and

peasants did not understand dialectical

materialism or communism, just sent

south against B–52 strikes, all sorts of

punishment before they got into combat where they were used on suicide

raids like these Kamakazes or Bonzai

charges.

After Harry Summers, I had an unusual guest, an excellent American patriot, Tom Moorer, 4-star Navy admiral, who had been commander of the

7th Fleet in the Pacific, and he had

been CINCPAC commander for all our

Pacific forces, the biggest geographical

military command on the planet Earth.

He then became chief of naval operations, then chairman of Joint Chiefs

of Staff, sending memo after memo to

Robert McNamara, begging him to

mine Haiphong Harbor.

At this time, McNamara had already

made up his mind. He made up his

mind before he put the first Marine on

the beach March 8, 1965; we could not

win, so he was feeding young kids like

cannon fodder into this death machine

while he is skiing at Snow Mass, and

his son is avoiding the draft. I have

seen him lie on Larry King and lie on

the Tom Snyder Show. I have seen him

lying all over, pushing his book, driving it up to No. 1 on the New York

Times bestseller list.
May 18, 1995 CONGRESSIONAL RECORD—HOUSE H 5365

A caller called in from Montana. I believe his name was Bob. I hope he is

watching. Bob says, ‘‘Admiral Moorer,

Bob Dornan, I think Robert McNamara

was a war criminal.’’ There was a

pause, and I said ‘‘Admiral, those

words crossed my mind yesterday at

the Vietnam Memorial.’’

I thought, well, liberals love to come

at me for overstating the case, and I

rejected ever using those words. ‘‘But

what do you think, Admiral? Is he a

war criminal?’’ Admiral Tom Moorer,

without a blemish on his career, in

1942, he was flying PBY Catalinas, and

they were painted black, and they

called them ‘‘Black Cats.’’ They were

actually using it as a patrol bomber,

bombing in the Solomon Islands: Distinguished Flying Cross, with Silver

Stars, great combat veteran, Admiral

Tom Moorer says, ‘‘Congressman, yes, I

believe Robert McNamara is a war

criminal.’’

Now, ladies and gentlemen, I lost my

speaking privileges on this floor the

day after the State of the Union for

using a term that I will not complete

tonight. I do not want to get into problems with our parliamentarian. I

talked about aid and comfort to hostile

powers with whom we were engaged in

combat.

Suffice it to say, when Wolf Blitzer

asked Bill Clinton at the White House

if he felt McNamara’s book vindicated

him, Clinton said, ‘‘Yes. Yes, I do.’’

And because he is bright, he said, ‘‘I

know it sounds self-serving, but, yes I

do.’’

Imagine getting vindication from an

evil person, a person that honorable

men think of as a war criminal. You

cannot get vindication there, Mr. Clinton. You just cannot!

And I have found out since then why

Mr. Clinton went to Moscow alone on

New Year’s Eve of 1969, why he woke up

in Leningrad and headed to Moscow

January 1, 1970, why he was there only

3 days, 27 degrees below zero, 10 inches

of snow cover. It was to go to a banquet, a banquet that a former U.S. Senator was at in the National Hotel, the

best hotel in town, and he was broke,

freezing, and he was only there 3 days,

and then off to Prague, the banquet,

the peace banquet, and then I found

out yesterday from a new book called

‘‘Clinton Confidential,’’ by George

Carpozzi, I hope George is listening, I

would like to help his book to attain a

counterbalance to McNamara’s book,

that Clinton had also another trip to

Moscow I never knew about, June 1991,

4 months, less than 4 months before he

declared for the Presidency on October

3, 1991. He was in Moscow. The Paula

Jones incident was March 8, which, by

the way, is V–E Day, and 1 month

later, June 8, he has a personal 11⁄2-hour

meeting with the head of the KGB.

What the heck was that all about, less

than 4 months before he declared to be

commander in chief?

So, Madam Speaker, I will say what

some press people know, that I will be

back trying to follow parliamentary

rules, but if I get overruled. I will appeal the ruling of the Chair and I will

win by a party-line vote. I polled my

party members. I am going to discuss

next month what the historical expression in our Constitution means about

aid and comfort, what constitutes a

hostile power, what constitutes an

enemy force, what 58,000 deaths mean,

and I will do a full hour on McNamara

and why it is an absolute disgrace that

he would rip open this unhealed wound

of Vietnam and bring the type of agony

that I have gone down to the wall and

talked to some of these vets that they

feel McNamara telling them it was

wrong, terribly wrong, that we would

try to free South Vietnam, help them

stay free, with 44 newspapers in Saigon.

I went over there eight times during

that conflict. I knew what the mistakes were, what the corruption was.

But none of it was as evil as the human

rights violations in Hanoi or what goes

on to this day this North Korea, in

China, in conquered Vietnam, in Cuba,

for that matter.

We have a terrible century of history,

and it is going out with a lot of bloodshed and hurt and pain, but we have

still got these heroes from our darkest

year of 1942. We have got our Walt

Krells and David Hrdlickas.

Something has been bothering me

lately. I have been thinking about

traveling around the country, reaching

maybe way beyond my reach, to offer

some leadership to this country, and it

has to do with something that atheists

love. They call it the natural selection.

I wonder if it has ever occurred to anybody the worst thing that wars do to

any nation, large or small, the best,

the very best die off, while the worst

hide out and escape and cut corners

and they get rewarded during peace,

sometimes, while the best are gone, the

opposite of natural selection, as atheists see it by the law of the jungle.

How many men would be running for

the presidency today who had shown

their strength of character in Korea or

Vietnam if they had not been put into

this Medal of Honor book as posthumous recipients of their Nation’s

greatest honor? There is only one word

on that Medal of Honor: Valor. And

sometimes I think it stands for ‘‘veterans against lying or revisionism.’’

Mr. McNamara’s book is a sacrilege

and an offense from a war criminal,

and I will not stop trying to bring out

the truth until my last breath, and I

might tell my liberal critics that all

warriors hate war. Those who were not

killed to kill another mother’s son in

combat, like myself, but were trained

to be combat ready and have a small

piece of the action of melting down the

evil empire, we understand why a nation should honor those that died, or

those that had their young bodies

ripped apart or those that managed to

escape unscathed by the grace only of a

merciful God, a Creator.

This Nation must come back to virtue, and our great Nation has to do

something for the veterans, starting

with the Korean veterans on July 27, in

about 2 months and a week, when a

beautiful, uplifting memorial is dedicated.

There are a thousand veterans that

are going to turn out to confront Mr.

Clinton if he shows up that day because

in the letter to Colonel Holmes he also

questioned our effort in Korea. I know

what people who avoid service think.

They think people are fools who go off

and lose their lives. Well, they are not

fools. They are the very essence of the

countries’ strength, and they are the

salt of the Earth.

And with that, Madam Speaker, I

conclude this evenings’ remarks with

what Douglas MacArthur said, ‘‘I shall

return.’’

A bill of the Senate of the following

SENATE BILL REFERRED

ftitle was taken from the Speaker’s

table and, under the rule, referred as

follows:

S. 534. An act to amend the Solid Waste

Disposal Act to provide authority for States

to limit the interstate transportation of municipal solid waste, and for other purposes;

to the Committee on Commerce.

By unanimous consent, leave of abLEAVE OF ABSENCE

fsence was granted to:

Mr. MCNULTY (at the request of Mr.

GEPHARDT), for today after 2 p.m., on

account of family business.

Mr. BONO (at the request of Mr.

ARMEY), until 2:30 p.m. today, on account of recovery from surgery.

By unanimous consent, permission to

SPECIAL ORDERS GRANTED

faddress the House, following the legislative program and any special orders

heretofore entered, was granted to:

(The following Members (at the request of Mr. SKAGGS) to revise and extend their remarks and include extraneous material:)

Ms. KAPTUR, for 5 minutes, today.

Mr. OWENS, for 5 minutes, today.

Mr. DEFAZIO, for 5 minutes, today.

Mr. PALLONE, for 5 minutes, today.

Mr. SKAGGS, for 5 minutes, today.

Mr. POSHARD, for 5 minutes, today.

The following Members (at the request of Mr. DICKEY) to revise and extend their remarks and include extraneous material:

Mr. KIM, for 5 minutes, today.

Mr. NORWOOD, for 5 minutes, today.

Mr. YOUNG of Alaska, for 5 minutes,

today.

By unanimous consent, permission to

EXTENSION OF REMARKS

frevise and extend remarks was granted

to:

(Mr. OBEY, to include extraneous

matter on the conference report on

H.R. 1158 in the House today.)