FLASH (hello, Flash): Greetings again from the Big Apple. I pray this missive finds you well, and I hope Eagle & Journal readers back on the rock will forgive me in advance as today’s letter adopts a more serious tone than is often my bent. To wit: On Memorial Day many moons ago, it was my honor and privilege to have tuned in to radio station KFI AM-640 Los Angeles for a special broadcast, guest-hosted by the inimitable Capt. Dale Dye, Jr., USMC, ret. (b. 8/8/44 Cape Girardeau, MO), a broadcast which obviously left a lasting impression on your faithful servant, Eddie-boy. Stay tuned.
Capt Dye is a decorated combat veteran of the Vietnam War and a distinguished Hollywood actor, director, producer, and writer. You may have seen some of his films and might recognize him by his chiseled visage, silver hair, and distinctive voice. But I digress. Back to the broadcast.
During his Memorial Day 1991 radio program, Capt. Dye told the story of a friend of his who served in Vietnam as a combat medic. If you’ll permit me to paraphrase, I’ll try to be brief.
Capt. Dye’s medic friend was in the field, in-country, in a combat situation during the Tet Offensive (1968), tending to a mortally wounded comrade-in-arms, desperately trying to do everything in his power to save the life of the stricken soldier. But there came a point when the medic knew his ministrations were not going to be enough, because through long hard experience, the medic had learned to recognize a certain look in a man’s eyes as life ebbs away. Alas, he saw that look in the eyes of the soldier. At that moment, the dying man pulled the medic close, and with his last breath, uttered two final words:
He said, “Remember me.”
VOL. 116, NO. 21 – May 27, 2026