A letter from President McCormick

Some answers to questions on I-200 impact

Be ready: UW is unlikely to suspend operations during inclement weather

Low frequency sound aids in tracking temperature changes

UW regents discuss women leaders with President’s Advisory Committee

UW lecture series will focus on “Extreme Worlds”

‘Smart computer’ researcher wins Packard Fellowship

Lost buddies found, making for a special Vet’s Day

 

Lost buddies found, making for a special Vet’s Day

  Wilbur Anderson
Wilbur Anderson

So you think you’re having a bad day. Consider this: It’s Feb. 22, 1969. You are a 20-year-old machine gunner on an armored cavalry assault vehicle working as a decoy on Vietnam’s Batangan Pennisula when your tank hits a land mine. You and your buddies go flying. Your hip is injured, your hearing damaged and you’re caught in an enemy ambush. A buddy covers you and drags you to safety, while another buddy, Percy Tolliver, is protected and brought to safety by Mike Ghidoni. Somehow you and Percy arrive safely at a base hospital. The next morning the two of you head for breakfast: you’re hobbling and Percy is on a gurney. Suddenly rockets hit the mess hall. You grab Percy, push him through a screen window into a bunker then run for cover. Just minutes later the cafeteria is blown to pieces. Two weeks later you are back on the front line.

This is a real chapter out of the life of Wilbur Anderson, a lead painter with UW Physical Plant—a story of heroism scheduled to be retold on ABC’s 20/20 before the end of the year, according to Brian Hale, of the news magazine.

The man who provided cover for Anderson, Sergeant Samuel Driggers, was killed in Vietnam a few months later. Anderson, Tolliver and Ghidoni were separated and lost contact with each other until this September, 30 years later, when they were reunited and honored by the city of Hermosa Beach, Calif.

Anderson, who was awarded a Bronze Star for his valor in Vietnam, had tried periodically over the years to find the others. But it was Tolliver who, with the help of the Internet and an enterprising journalist, finally tracked down the other machine gunners from the third platoon of H Troop, 17th Calvary.

Now the three find it hard to stay away from each other. Their first reunion was a busy weekend at the Hermosa Beach memorial celebration that included a parade, the awarding of a Purple Heart to Tolliver, and numerous gifts from merchants. Next, Anderson, Tolliver and Ghidoni spent time visiting out of the limelight on Tolliver’s Bard, Calif. citrus farm. They met again recently for a long weekend in Las Vegas, and they spend time reminiscing by phone. The trio and their families plan to bring in the New Year together, too.

“We have a bond that is hard to explain, but that year in Vietnam seems longer than the 30 years since,” Anderson said. “I always wondered what happened to them. It was a chapter that never closed.”

Anderson, who lives in Tacoma, didn’t go to Vietnam with ideas of being a hero. His goal, like the goal of most soldiers, was to stay safe and return home. But the place Anderson felt safe was a dangerous spot—in battle with his platoon buddies. Being unarmed in the hospital listening to the sounds of the war in the distance was too unnerving. He went back to the base camp, but didn’t feel safe there, either. “I felt better with the people I knew—the 45 people in my platoon—and when I knew what was happening to them,” he said. So he went back to the action and continued his job as a decoy until he was shipped home in July, 1969.

“One thing you learn quickly is that no matter how you handle yourself, a lot of things are just fate,” he said. “I really appreciate the recognition I’ve received lately. When I first came home, no one wanted to talk about it. I’m very glad people are finally taking an interest in what happened there.” ¶

Nedra Floyd Pautler



University Week
The faculty and staff publication of the University of Washington
uweek@u.washington.edu
November 5, 1998