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I write this in memory of, and in tribute to, John E. Darling Jr. John, like so many of the Class of 1968, died in Vietnam a decade ago. He died a hero’s death: a volunteer returning to a base under fire when his helicopter was shot down. A tragic loss to the Army and to our country.</div>
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Writing about, or even considering, the Vietnam war remains painful and difficult for me—particularly when recalling the death of a close friend. When John died I was in Cambodia with my Ranger battalion, a part of that still controversial incursion. My parents and wife withheld the news of John’s death from me until I returned from Cambodia. I can still recall the shock of the news.</div>
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It is impossible in these short sentences to adequately review John’s extraordinary accomplishments or even describe his active, spirited life. For me, John was more than a college roommate: he was a friend and confidant, a cherished prankster, a thought provoking and intuitive personality who challenged life everyday. For many of us, John represented eternal youth; the model of zest and enthusiasm in every undertaking. He radiated energy and inspired others beyond their normal limitations. He loved life and sparked others to enjoy their self-made world.</div>
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This is not to say that John Darling was a model of virtue and decorum. He could, almost simultaneously, enrage you with his bullheadedness while delighting you with his wry sense of humor. He was thoroughly combative. Unfortunately, we were often on opposing sides in sports: I broke his nose in volleyball, he crushed my leg in lacrosse. We both had knee operations. He was in short, a real person; not a mass produced version of someone else’s idea of success, but a person who defined for himself what he should be. And he was, I believe, true to that self concept.</div>
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John was a product of the Midwest and a loving active family. He was raised in the Michigan town of Fremont where he was a highly acclaimed high school athlete and student. Today, the John F. Darling, Jr. Award for Wrestling is given annually to a Fremont High School student and states, “This is awarded each year to the wrestler who best exemplifies the character of the soldier who gave his life in Vietnam.”</div>
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While at the Academy John excelled in sports of all types—particularly wrestling—giving academic requirements necessary, but often fleeting, attention. It was at the Academy that we all discovered that John was a natural leader: an individual gifted with those traits that attract other people to him.</div>
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A physically strong man—as well as a strong willed person—he nonetheless maintained the ability to be a compassionate caring individual. A friend who cheered you up when you were in need—and poked fun at feigned seriousness. A person who judged you by your desire rather than your ability. A friend who shared in your successes, and comforted you in your failures. He left the Academy with a large group of friends and admirers.</div>
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Following graduation John attended the normal bevy of schools—basic, airborne, and ranger—before returning to Fremont in December to marry Cathy Butler. I attended the wedding and was delighted at the pervasive aura of joy everywhere. Soon thereafter the new couple left for North Carolina, John assigned to the 82d Airborne Division. He was to be there only briefly, soon called to the war in Vietnam.</div>
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As the communications officer in a battalion of the 101st Airborne Division, John was present when his battalion tactical operations center received a direct hit wounding the executive officer and several other men. John immediately assumed command, then administered first aid to casualties. Braving the impacting rounds, John carried a wounded man to a medical evacuation helicopter, then returned to the command post to direct armed helicopter support of the extraction operation. His Silver Star citation states that: “His actions under fire enabled the prompt evacuation of casualties and forced the withdrawal of the hostile force.” Only a month later, on the eve of his R&R leave, John’s helicopter was shot down and he died.</div>
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While historians will eventually deal with Vietnam in socio-economic terms, and undoubtably describe it as a brief aberation in the history of a great nation, its personal tragedy remains with us today. As Frances FitzGerald wrote in <em>Fire in the Lake</em>, “The United States might leave Vietnam, but the Vietnam war would now never leave the United States.” FitzGerald spoke prophetically. We have left the conflict, but the conflict remains part of our nation’s being. As such, the loss of lives in Southeast Asia is too real, too close for us to overlook in judging that war today.</div>
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Now, as I recall the fighting and its aftermath, only the political and personal losses seem real; our initial intentions obscured by the results, our original motivations eroded by hindsight, our narrow patriotism overshadowed by reality. The true tragedy of the war is that it has cost our country its best and brightest. Men like John Darling who were the seeds—and our hope—for the future.</div>
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John’s grave is in Fremont, his body returned from the war in which he died so valoriously. He deserves the continuing blessing of our people and words similar to those eloquent few spoken by a Civil War President when he dedicated a soldier's cemetery in Pennsylvania:</div>
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“The world will little note nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated here, to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be dedicated to the great task remaining before us; that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to the cause for which they gave the full measure of devotion; that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain.”</div>
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From these stirring words at Gettysburg arose a new, unified nation. So, too, may we now. I miss you John Darling, and pray that your life will not have been spent in vain.</div>
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<em>—John Charles Cruden*, Class of 1968</em></div>
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<em>*Joining the writer in this obituary are the following classmates and friends of John Darling: George Heckman, William Kunzman, William Gardepe, Glen Hewitt, Patrick O’Keefe, Paul Joseph, Joseph Dooley, Les Kronfeldt and Neil Lark. John Darling’s parents saw and added to this tribute before it was submitted for publication. Only a few days after Mrs. Darling wrote the letter approving the final obituary, she died of a heart attack in her home in Michigan.</em></div>