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CLARENCE LEE |
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Lee's actual records HAVE BEEN REQUESTED. NO TEN MEN were captured together - and there were no "concentration camps" for prisoners Lee now claims the Navy Cross and has a
DD214 "to prove it." He allowed no one to make a copy.
Research finds NO Bill McCoy from Selma
AL on the WALL. These men died in 1966. None are from Selma AL.
He is NOT receiving VA benefits as a Prisoner of War. He is NOT rated 100% disabled. He was NOT a helicopter pilot and was not "trained while in Vietnam" to fly. |
| The TRUTH: ACTUAL RECORDS |
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The FAIRY TALE:
Vietnam veteran full of life despite nine months of torture
BY RAY WESTBROOK
Clarence Lee of Shallowater, a veteran with four tours in Vietnam to his
credit, completed 15 years in the Marine Corps the hard way.
"The last tour was 14 months long, because that's when I got
captured," he said.
Lee can stand with a crutch, and moves about with a wheelchair or
motorized scooter because of permanent injuries inflicted when he was a
prisoner of war. He attributes his survival of nine months of torture to
help from God.
Lee, now in his 60s, was a helicopter pilot during the war and received
five Purple Heart medals while fighting the North Vietnamese.
Despite severe abuse by the North Vietnamese, Lee was angriest during
the war when his best friend, Bill McCoy, was killed in an attack.
Becoming friends, though, wasn't easy. McCoy was the son of a grand
wizard of the Ku Klux Klan, and he occupied the bunk right above Lee
during boot camp. The use of the "n" word was inevitable.
"The way we met, me and Bill, every night I was on the bottom rack,
Bill was on the top. Every night when we came in, he spit on my pillow.
Two nights he had done this. And I told him, I said, 'Let me tell you
white boy, if you do it again I'm going to have to come up there and get
you.'
"Next evening, there it was. I reached up there and got him. And I
wished a thousand times I could have put him back - he was just as mean
as I was!"
They were both hospitalized from the fight.
When they got out of the hospital, the drill instructor forced them to
spend all their time together, and they became close friends.
"From that day forward in the Marine Corps, every place we were
stationed, we were together," Lee said.
They were, however, separated by war.
"Bill was killed in 1966 at Danang. He was a helicopter pilot,
also. We had come in that day, had just got back off two missions on
Hill 10 and Anwar. This place they called Anwar, it got overrun, and
three people were left living. Our job was to go in and just clear the
place...
"We had come into Danang - we were there at the division - and we
sat down on the pad and they were loading us. We walked over to just
outside the bunker and were standing there talking and shooting the
breeze like guys would do, and all of a sudden we went under attack.
"It was two rocket-propelled grenade rounds that hit. One hit on
the side of the hill, and one hit directly on Bill. His body parts got
thrown all over me. I think at that point, my whole heart came out of
me."
Lee was allowed to escort McCoy's body home to Selma, Ala.
"That was my worst year. I escorted him back home to tell them what
happened, and how it happened. They gave me five months off to stay with
his family, because at that time I was a part of the family. I saw to
the burial being done, and everything. But we couldn't open the
casket."
Referring to McCoy's father and his background with the Klan, Lee said,
"I was the first black person who ever went through his front door
as a guest. Now, Mr. McCoy is 98, and occasionally I talk to him; he's
still there."
Following Selma, Lee was sent again to Vietnam.
"After Bill died, I was so ... how would you say it ... so bundled
up inside and had so much hate. I wanted every fire-fight mission I
could get. It was just to get even."
Lee remembers he was flying a fire-fight mission when he was taken
prisoner.
"Our troops were being overrun by the North Vietnamese coming
south. They had like 200 or 300 men, and we had 13 guys. ... When I
would go in, all I would do is come in at a low level and just rotate
360 degrees. All I did was fire, and it would clear everything around
me. I hover right over the troops while I'm doing this.
"My ammo was getting low, so I knew I had to get out of there. Our
guys were pinned down, so I just went on down, and all 13 of them jumped
on. I was getting up and they caught me in the turbines with a
30-caliber machine gun.
"It brought us back down. There were 10 of us left living, and they
took us as prisoners."
He said he ended up at Hanoi Hilton, which wasn't that bad. But first he
endured months of torture at a concentration camp across the DMZ -
demilitarized zone.
According to Lee, the torture was intended to make him talk.
"When I went into the Marine Corps I took an oath. And I would give
my life before I gave up any of my friends.
"They shot me through both of my hips for torture, and now both of
my hip joints have been replaced. And my left knee joint has been
replaced."
He remembers the interrogators came in one day after nine months and
told him he'd be set free if he told them what they wanted to know. But
he had a defiant answer:
"You have shot me through my hips, you have cut my finger off one
joint at a time, you have beat my foot up, and now you have busted my
knee, and are you going to let me go? Duh! You think I'm really
dumb?"
Holding up his left hand to reveal a stump of a finger, he told the
interrogators, "Can you cut this part off here, it's in my
way."
He said the next day they began torturing him by beating him in the
face.
"They beat me until I passed out, and all of this lower part was
just turned to mush. See, this whole lower jaw is mold. My left eye is
in plastic, and my nose is plastic.
"You know, it got to where it didn't hurt. You knew it was coming,
and it just didn't hurt anymore. I used to be afraid of dying, but I had
made my peace with God, and I wasn't afraid to die - I knew he was
taking care of me."
Lee said the interrogator came in one day and pointed a 9 mm German
lugar at him to make him talk. Lee was shot beside his left eye.
Inexplicably, the bullet turned upward when it struck the skull, rather
than penetrating to the brain.
He remembers, "The bullet just hit me and turned up. And that's
when I knew God was with me. He had his hand there."
Lee said, "It just had got to where I wasn't afraid. You couldn't
scare me anymore, you couldn't hurt me, you couldn't do anything else to
me."
According to Lee, he wasn't tortured physically at the Hanoi Hilton.
"They would stake you out and put a bucket up over you with a
little pin hole, and that drop of water hit you right there," he
said, pointing to the bridge of his nose where it joins his forehead.
But he found it wasn't really true that after a time it begins to feel
like being hit with a hammer: "It feels just like a truck being
dropped on you. And you have it down, timed to the minute; you would
close your eyes when it was time to hit you. It could drive you crazy. I
thank God that I'm not crazy."
When he was returned to the United States, Lee spent 22 years in VA
hospitals undergoing major surgeries and recovering.
"I go to Lyons Chapel Baptist Church in Lubbock," he said.
"Life now is great. I have lived my entire dream. I was born in
Georgia on a cotton and peach farm. I wanted to be a Marine, which I am.
I wanted to fly helicopters, which I have. I wanted to drive trucks,
which I have. ... I wanted to live in Texas, which I do. And I wanted a
little house in Texas, which I have.
"I have a super wife," he said, referring to Gay Lynn Lee.
"She is there for me if anything goes on."
He has no regrets about being a Marine. "That's the most glorious
thing in my life, other than my wife. Once a Marine, always a Marine;
you will die a Marine. Once you put that uniform on, you have put on the
most honorable, the most decorated, the most everything with that
uniform. You are proud to wear that uniform."
He does have one thing he would change. "My friend Bill. If I could
have given my life for him, I would have given my life for him to come
back.
"That's the kind of friend I had."
But the trauma of war also produced a zeal for living: "I've got a
life to live. I want to live my life for God now, and myself and
her," he said of Gay Lynn.
"That's what I'm living my life for."
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Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Veterans groups expose bogus claims in story
The wheelchair-bound Lee was featured in a front-page Avalanche-Journal story Saturday leading up to Veterans Day events in Lubbock. He served as a Marine for six years, and what he claimed as his discharge paper showed him to be a driver. The A-J contacted Lee on Monday to tell him about the concerns raised about his story. Lee came to The A-J and tried to defend his claims by saying he would return Tuesday with documents. He did not have the documents Tuesday. Later Tuesday, he said in a phone conversation that he "was sorry and to tell the people he was sorry about it and would never do it again." Mary Schantag, a board member of the nonprofit P.O.W. Network of Skidmore, Mo., said there are many misrepresentations of prisoner of war status. "This is literally a pandemic right now," she said. "We have had more phony POWs exposed - two to three times more - than came home alive after Vietnam. This is not a rare occurrence. This is an everyday occurrence." Around Veterans Day, the problem increases, she said. "I probably have had the reports of 40 fraudulent claims over the last three days," Schantag said. "And this type of thing is epidemic, and it steals the honor and glory of all these guys." Schantag's husband, Charles Schantag, is chairman of P.O.W. Network and served in the Marines during Vietnam. He was wounded in the war. In the story, Lee made these claims: He was a prisoner of war in Vietnam. Larry Greer, spokesman for the Pentagon's POW/MIA office, reported there was no documentation that Lee was ever a prisoner of war. "Nobody by that name was listed as a POW during the Vietnam War," he said. Schantag also said she can find no evidence of the validity of Lee's story. "There is no historical reference material any place that backs up what he claims about being a prisoner of war," she said. "The POWs don't know him. His story doesn't check out. There is no evidence that he was ever a helicopter pilot." The P.O.W. Network is an educational organization, not a veterans' group, according to Schantag. Steve Maxner, deputy director of the Vietnam Center at Texas Tech, searched a Department of Defense POW/MIA list and did not find Lee's name. On the Web site, "Lee" is listed four times, but there is no listing for any Clarence Lee. The site is www.dtic.mil/dpmo. James R. Reckner, director of the Vietnam Center, also checked the Department of Defense POW Missing Personnel Office Web site and its records of prisoners of war, escapees, returnees and remains-recovered, exclusively listing Marine Corps personnel. "That list clearly includes individuals from the USMC who were captured for relatively short periods of time and escaped, and also would list those who were returned to U.S. control for any reason at any time," Reckner said. "If, as Mr. Lee claims, he was held at the Hanoi Hilton, then most certainly there would be records for him. I also checked some non-government sites relating to Vietnam POWs and didn't find him listed in any of them." Lee claimed he was a helicopter pilot in Vietnam. Lyndel Evans wrote the following in an e-mail: "If Lee was a Marine Corps helo pilot, he was the only one ever. The Marine Corps, to my knowledge, and I retired from 30 years in the Navy, has never had warrant officers as pilots, period. There were flying sergeants during World War II, but no flying gunners. The Army has always had and still has warrant officer helicopter pilots." Schantag said, "There is no evidence that he was ever a helicopter pilot. I have down that he was a motor vehicle operator. He never flew a helicopter." Lee claimed he had a best friend named Bill McCoy who was a helicopter pilot and was killed in action. Researchers familiar with military Web sites and Vietnam archives found no evidence to substantiate that. Robert Destatte of Temecula, Calif., wrote in an e-mail that official casualty lists confirm that only six Marines with the surname McCoy or Mc Coy were killed in Vietnam. "All six of these Marines were enlisted men. Since all military helicopter pilots were either commissioned or warrant officers, none of these six Marines could have been helicopter pilots," he said. "Furthermore, none of these six Marines hailed from Alabama. Their homes of record were Moab, Utah; St. Louis, Mo.; Wilmington, N.C.; Buffalo, N.Y.; Berkeley, Mo.; and Detroit, Mich." Lee contends he was given the Navy Cross but that it was left with his other medals at his sister's home in Atlanta. Nigel Brooks of Pearland wrote in an e-mail to The A-J that HR 3352 of the 109th Congress seeks to amend Title 18, Section 704 to include the following: "Whoever knowingly and fraudulently wears and/or represents him or herself as having received a Medal of Honor, Distinguished Service Cross, Navy Cross or Air Force Cross, except when authorized under regulations made pursuant to law, shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than six months, or both." Schantag wrote in an e-mail, "The bill passed the Senate unanimously, but the House was 'too busy' to put it on the calendar before recess. We hope it yet passes before Jan. 20." An arrest record for Lee in Fulton County, Ga., obtained on PublicData.com, shows a conviction for two counts of bad checks and a sentence to 24 months' probation. Another conviction in a judicial offense category of embezzle, for theft by conversion, received a sentence of four years' probation and a $600 fine. Lester Dunn, a World War II veteran who went ashore Day 1 of the invasion of Normandy and has served as commander of the Disabled American Veterans, said there were problems when Lee came into the Lubbock organization. "Immediately he wanted to take over everything," Dunn said. "I was the commander of the chapter at that time, and we had our problems. I set him down and told him if he wanted to be a member of this chapter, that's fine, but don't come in thinking that immediately you are going to get my job. ... 'I don't think you are going to get anywhere.' "
To comment on this story: ray.westbrook@lubbockonline.com t 766-8711 shelly.gonzales@lubbockonline.com t 766-8747 |