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<em>GERARD VINCENT PALMA</em> grew up in Hammonton, New Jersey, the son of Mr. and Mrs. Joseph R. Palma. He graduated from Hammonton High School in 1959 and entered Georgetown University in Washington, DC. Throughout his childhood and youth, Gerry was committed to a life of service to his fellow man. While at Georgetown, he considered both the priesthood and West Point. He won the principal appointment to West Point from the 2nd Congressional District of New Jersey. When his acceptance came, he was in the chapel seeking divine guidance. Gerry entered West Point with the intensity, commitment and drive that was to characterize his all too short life. On the athletic field, in the classroom or at home providing hospitality for classmates who lived too far away for their own parents to visit, Geny set demanding personal standards.</p>
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Upon graduation on 3 June 1964, Gerry celebrated with the only personal indulgence many of us remember—a new Corvette. In the fall, he attended Airborne and Ranger schools and then reported for an Armor assignment at Fort Carson, Colorado. By early 1965, the buildup in Vietnam was underway. Gerry asked for Vietnam duty to “march to the sound of the guns.” To appreciate the special determination and drive mixed with a wry sense of humor that was Gerry Palma, listen to the voices of those who knew him. From a classmate speaking at the dedication of the Palma Building at Fort Knox, Kentucky on 10 August 1983:</p>
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“A true professional, Gerry Palma instinctively marched to the sound of the guns. He was assigned to the 101st Airborne Division in Vietnam; he served for a year as a Cavalry platoon leader. His commander told me that Gerry was a fearless combat leader who strove for excellence in all he did. He was totally dedicated to his mission and the welfare of his men. He refused to report several minor wounds because he did not believe them worthy of the Purple Heart and did not wish to be taken from his soldiers in the field.”</p>
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From a classmate: “Both of us were assigned to Fort Carson, and we arranged to drive out in tandem. In the middle of a January night I had car problems and fell out. After some time, Gerry realized I was not behind anymore and doubled back to find and help me. I remember the two of us, sitting on a dark highway in Kansas, confident that we would work any problem out, though it might take a number of hours.”</p>
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From a classmate: “Gerry and I had both completed a tour of duty in Vietnam and were at Fort Benning. Gerry had asked to get out of his aide-de-camp assignment early in order to go back. Without pretense, or any false modesty, he said simply that there was a war going on and he was a West Point-trained soldier. In his mind, nothing else needed to be said. He volunteered for both his tours in Vietnam.”</p>
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A classmate’s letter to Gerry’s sister: “I first met Gerry in my Beast company. I remember running next to him on the way to Target Field. We were both from New Jersey and got together frequently. We both went Armor. We went through Airborne School and were Ranger buddies. He loved the stress and physical demands of Airborne and Ranger and threw himself into the training. I don’t think Gerry was capable of doing anything halfway. I don’t think he ever in his life pulled a punch or tried to take a shortcut.”</p>
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From a classmate’s mother: “When my son was in Vietnam, I received a call from Gerry early one weekday morning. He was driving to Fort Benning and had seen a road sign and mileage marker to our small town “only 55-miles” away. He had never visited our home, but he had roomed with my son. Gerry called and said he would like to stop by. Over the breakfast I hastily prepared, we talked and laughed, and he filled in the gaps only a classmate and fellow soldier could understand. That hour-and-a-half breakfast gave my spirit a lift which endured for weeks. Two years later, when I heard of his death in combat, I cancelled everything in order to go to Arlington for the funeral so I could say to Gerry’s parents how his thoughtfulness and sensitivity were a comfort to me.”</p>
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From one of several citations for valor in combat: “Serving as a platoon leader with the 101st Airborne Division near Tuy Hoa last March 13th, First Lieutenant Palma was leading a relief force to aid the badly outnumbered patrol in combat with the Vietcong. [They] crossed an open area under intense fire to establish a linkup, then directed artillery fire and an air strike forcing the enemy to withdraw.”</p>
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From his sister: “The night before he left for his second tour in Vietnam, he sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa with his legs stretched out and crossed. He talked peace, about the Vietnamese people and their history and politics until four in the morning. He never talked about the war. Ever. That was the last time I talked with my brother.”</p>
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From Gerry’s handwritten personal notebook in his parents’ home, discovered several years after his death: “There are games that you play to play: there are games that you play to win; there are games that you do not play. The closest analogy I can offer people as to what I mean when I say ‘I am a soldier’ is that it is analogous to what I mean when I say ‘I am a Catholic.’ I wish to live a soldier’s life, do a soldier’s work, render a soldier’s service and die a soldier’s death.”</p>
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Gerard Palma died a soldier’s death on 19 April 1969. He was commanding a cavalry troop on his second tour in Vietnam. After he was wounded, his last conscious moments were spent directing fire on those who endangered his command.</p>
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In his hometown of Hammonton, New Jersey there is a park named for and dedicated to Gerry. The money was raised by friends, teachers, coaches and townspeople. At the US Army Armor Center in Fort Knox, Kentucky there is an Armored Training Brigade Building dedicated to Captain Gerard Palma because of the efforts of a classmate.</p>
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If there is a special place in the Long Gray Line for those who “find a soldier’s resting place beneath a soldier’s blow,” then there is a special reverence when those of us who have recalled the memories of Gerry Palma say reverently, “Well Done Be Thou At Peace.”</p>
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Gerry is buried at Arlington in good company with our nation’s heroes. He is survived by his sister, Ann Palma McAbee, of Greer, South Carolina.</p>
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<em>Classmates, Family, Friends</em></p>
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