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One person cannot express in words the deep sense of loss when a best friend, son, brother, husband, and leader of soldiers is taken at a very young age. It is an impossible task. This memorial is presented from many sources, to include words which have already been spoken or written about Marty and which relate far more eloquently the wonderful person <em>Marty </em>was than anything I could write.</p>
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Marty died with 33 comrades when their CH-47 helicopter crashed north of DaNang on 28 Nov 71. Marty returned to his beloved state of Maine on Christmas Day 1971. His funeral was held on 26 Dec 71 in South Paris, ME, and he was laid to rest at West Point on 27 Dec 71. In addition to his parents, Sulo and Aino Niskanen, his sister Karen, and his wife Maria-Luise, Marty leaves behind an uncounted number of friends.</p>
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Marty’s battalion commander in Vietnam wrote, “Your son was an outstanding officer. He was sincere, competent, and utterly reliable. I found Martin to be a peerless leader of men. Time and again he brought his company safely through critical and difficult situations. Martin was idolized by the members of his command and followed without hesitation. I have known no finer company commander or person in my military career.”</p>
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Marty was born on 30 Mar 44 at Walter Reed Army Hospital in Washington, DC, while his father was stationed at Bolling Air Force Base.</p>
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When he was two years old, the family moved back to Maine. Marty claimed that he was never born until the family crossed the Piscataqua River into Maine.</p>
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Marty grew up in an apple orchard on historic Paris Hill, the birthplace of Hannibal Hamlin, one of Abraham Lincoln’s vice presidents. He loved the outdoors and spent many happy hours roaming the woods and climbing mountains. While in high school, Marty excelled in academics and sports and was active in student and church activities. He began nurturing the thought of going to West Point while in junior high. Marty loved his country and his patriotism was overwhelming.</p>
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All of Marty’s grandparents came from Finland in the early 1900s.</p>
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Marty was extremely proud of his Finnish heritage and felt that he had a lot of Finnish “sisu,” internal toughness under pressure. Sisu sums up Marty.</p>
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I met Marty early in our Plebe year as we both hailed from Maine. I was assisting the ski coach in putting together a ski jumping squad for the ski club. I remember asking Marty if he had ever ski jumped. He said that he had not, but since he was Finnish and from Maine, it was in his blood. Marty did not start small; his jump was off the 55 meter Bear Mountain jump. If you imagine traveling down iced tracks only 4 inches wide at more than 60 miles per hour and hurling yourself into space, you will have some idea of Marty’s sisu. He took quite a few lumps before he became proficient.</p>
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Marty and classmate Ed Johnson made the most of their 60-day leave by touring the United States. Marty then went to the Berlin Brigade in West Germany, where he met his future wife, Maria-Luise Schartmann.</p>
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Following a year in Germany, Marty went to Ft. Bliss, TX, and then to Vietnam for his first tour as a MACV advisor. Marty’s great compassion was demonstrated by his organizing a clothing drive in the United States for the indigent children of Vietnam.</p>
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Marty returned to Ft. Benning, GA, in early 1970 and completed the Advanced Course and married Maria on 20 Jun 70. He then departed for his second and final tour in Viemam with the 101st Airborne Division.</p>
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Marty’s parents were preparing to go to his grandfather’s funeral when the news of Marty’s death reached them. In his last letter home, which arrived after his death, Marty expressed happiness about coming home during the Christmas season so that he could spend long hours talking to his grandfather. God works in mysterious ways.</p>
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One of Marty’s best friends wrote, “Marty was a dear friend and I miss him. His death caused a great deal of grief and some uncomfortable introspection...We lost many friends and classmates in Vietnam. Nothing affected me more than Marty’s passing...When I think of Marty, my first thoughts are of a kind, gentle, and happy man. At the end of the Cow year, 4 of us canoed from Moose Lake in central Maine to the Canadian border on the Allagash...When we crashed the canoes, putting a large hole in one, while negotiating a rapids at dusk, Marty was the driving force in clearing up the camp in the pouring rain, lighting a fire, and improving the spirits of the group.</p>
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We survived the trip with an even stronger bond of friendship. We lost a person who was a giver, never a taker, someone who would make a difference, and I lost a friend.”</p>
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The words written in the 1966 Howitzer about Marty are quite prophetic: “Marty was a person whose intense love of life compelled him to live it to its fullest. His sense of values set him off as a lasting friend ever-willing to share some deep insight, some rare piece of Maine humor. May we never forget that long, hearty chuckle from the back of the auditorium. May we never forget that fellow cadet taking time out to listen to the most complete collection of Finland’s Sibelius in the entire Corps of Cadets. May we never forget that one lone pair of head skis waiting patiently for the arrival of winter. May we never forget ‘Marty.’ ”</p>
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Marty is missed by many.</p>
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<em>Marty’s friends, parents, and comrades in arms</em></p>