Exira Sesquicentennial Special: The New History Book
My mother was very kind and sent me the new Exira, Iowa Sesquicentennial history book, the aptly titled, 1857-2007 Exira, Iowa Sesquicentennial History Book, for my birthday a few weeks ago. It was compiled my friend and former high school English teacher, John Walker. It is a wealth of information about that small Audubon County town on the East Nishnabotna, focusing primarily on the events of the past 25 years but including a lot of pioneer history and a wealth of family histories for genealogists as well. Timelines of town and school history were included, too. My compliments go out to John and the rest of the history book committee for a job well done!
One of the interesting portions of the book for me was the section on military history, compiled by Exira's senior military officer, retired Major General Jack Peppers. What I as a former military officer found most interesting were the photographs of the many folks from Exira who served in America's armed forces, some by choice, many by draft, but the anecdotes they provided from their time in the service are quite interesting.
One I found especially interesting was that of my cousin, Larry Wheeler. A bit of background: I spent quite a bit of time at Larry's place as a child when my father was in the Omaha hospital. Later, as a teenager helping my father and uncle shell corn, Larry would show up with his kids to assist as well. That was a show in itself. Imagine a guy in his late 30's who is pretty much the spitting image of the late Waylon Jennings, with long hair and a beard. He drives an old pickup truck with two bumper stickers. One says, "Don't cuss the farmer on a full stomach," which I suppose is good advice. The other states, "I'm not a dirty old man, just a sexy senior citizen!" Larry would show up to help shell corn dressed in cut off jeans, which can best be described as butt shorts, and wearing nothing else but a red bandana to keep the hair out of his eyes, aviator sunglasses, and tennis shoes. On his belt was a hunting knife. He would roll into the driveway and dismount, and his three kids, two boys and a girl would spring out of the back. Astoundingly, they were also barechested in butt shorts and tennis shoes and armed with hunting knives, which proved useful, I guess, in attacking the mice and rats often found when shelling corn. Our local man with the corn shelling machine, which was a Rube Goldberg contraption of whirring parts, belts, and augers, Raymond Vais, would always admonish the children concerning the mice, "Don't kill them!" They didn't listen. The mice were usually caught and fed to an army of awaiting felines.
I knew that Larry was a Marine sniper in the Vietnam war, but I never had the opportunity to ask him about his experiences. (Note to self: compile family military history at some point in the future.) And so, I found an anecdote he related for the history book to be especially intriguing. Without further ado, here it is, taken from page 317:
Service record: U.S. Marines. Lance Cpl Larry J. Wheeler entered the service October 7, 1966, and was discharged September 6, 1968. Larry took basic training in San Diego, California and advanced training at Camp Pendelton, California.
He volunteered for Sniper School and was trained and served as a sniper along the DMZ in Vietnam.
The duty of a sniper is to work in a two-man team with another Marine. You watch each other's back and take your opportunities as they come. You are out in the jungle and have only your partner for help, so learning to camouflage and hide is a must.
Tour of duty overseas from May 1967 to June 1968 with the 1st Marine Division, 5th Regiment.
"Shortly after I arrived in Vietnam, my partner and I were hiding in the jungle and watching a trail," said Larry.
"We could hear people coming, but it turned out to be Marines. The point man on the patrol and I saw each other at the same time. The Marine had a flak jacked on and had 'Harlan, Iowa' written on it.
"We had a short discussion about the chances of being 12,000+ miles from home and meeting someone thirty miles from home on a trail in the jungle.
"I no longer remember his name and I never saw him again."
One of the interesting portions of the book for me was the section on military history, compiled by Exira's senior military officer, retired Major General Jack Peppers. What I as a former military officer found most interesting were the photographs of the many folks from Exira who served in America's armed forces, some by choice, many by draft, but the anecdotes they provided from their time in the service are quite interesting.
One I found especially interesting was that of my cousin, Larry Wheeler. A bit of background: I spent quite a bit of time at Larry's place as a child when my father was in the Omaha hospital. Later, as a teenager helping my father and uncle shell corn, Larry would show up with his kids to assist as well. That was a show in itself. Imagine a guy in his late 30's who is pretty much the spitting image of the late Waylon Jennings, with long hair and a beard. He drives an old pickup truck with two bumper stickers. One says, "Don't cuss the farmer on a full stomach," which I suppose is good advice. The other states, "I'm not a dirty old man, just a sexy senior citizen!" Larry would show up to help shell corn dressed in cut off jeans, which can best be described as butt shorts, and wearing nothing else but a red bandana to keep the hair out of his eyes, aviator sunglasses, and tennis shoes. On his belt was a hunting knife. He would roll into the driveway and dismount, and his three kids, two boys and a girl would spring out of the back. Astoundingly, they were also barechested in butt shorts and tennis shoes and armed with hunting knives, which proved useful, I guess, in attacking the mice and rats often found when shelling corn. Our local man with the corn shelling machine, which was a Rube Goldberg contraption of whirring parts, belts, and augers, Raymond Vais, would always admonish the children concerning the mice, "Don't kill them!" They didn't listen. The mice were usually caught and fed to an army of awaiting felines.
I knew that Larry was a Marine sniper in the Vietnam war, but I never had the opportunity to ask him about his experiences. (Note to self: compile family military history at some point in the future.) And so, I found an anecdote he related for the history book to be especially intriguing. Without further ado, here it is, taken from page 317:
Larry Wheeler
Service record: U.S. Marines. Lance Cpl Larry J. Wheeler entered the service October 7, 1966, and was discharged September 6, 1968. Larry took basic training in San Diego, California and advanced training at Camp Pendelton, California.
He volunteered for Sniper School and was trained and served as a sniper along the DMZ in Vietnam.
The duty of a sniper is to work in a two-man team with another Marine. You watch each other's back and take your opportunities as they come. You are out in the jungle and have only your partner for help, so learning to camouflage and hide is a must.
Tour of duty overseas from May 1967 to June 1968 with the 1st Marine Division, 5th Regiment.
"Shortly after I arrived in Vietnam, my partner and I were hiding in the jungle and watching a trail," said Larry.
"We could hear people coming, but it turned out to be Marines. The point man on the patrol and I saw each other at the same time. The Marine had a flak jacked on and had 'Harlan, Iowa' written on it.
"We had a short discussion about the chances of being 12,000+ miles from home and meeting someone thirty miles from home on a trail in the jungle.
"I no longer remember his name and I never saw him again."
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