“The ultimate personal understanding of battle comes in that searing moment when a man discovers that he’s been hit; he’s bleeding.”

John Lovly was discharged from the United States Army as a Sergeant on June 20th, 1970. After serving with the 25th Infantry Division, an outstanding and highly experienced combat unit, John boarded a plane for home. To say he was thankful for that moment would be an understatement. One of his most memorable experiences in the Vietnam War was right then. Filled with soldiers whose lives had been spared, John remembers how quiet it was as the plane left Vietnam. “We were all just overwhelmed with thankfulness…gratitude,” he teared up.

Upon arrival to the country over a year earlier in April of ’69, John shares of a very different emotion. “I’m not ashamed to admit I was scared and worried. From the air, you could see smoke and bomb craters everywhere. Everyone on that plane had the same thoughts: Will I make it back home or not?”

John graduated from Good-ridge High School in 1967 and was working at a gas station in Thief River Falls. The draft was in full swing and he had already passed his physical mandated by the Selective Service. He says it really wasn’t a matter of “if” he’d be drafted, it was more of a “when” situation. Instead of waiting weeks or months to find out, John decided to volunteer. Word spread and soon six high school friends had voluntarily signed up for service. Along with John, the local men leaving for Basic Training included Larry Grabowska, David Vraa, Brad Nelson, Tim Kassa and Lyle Watne. 

All of them boarded the train together and made the 30 hour trip to Fort Lewis, Washington, where they’d go through Basic Training for eight weeks. Besides the men he went with, John met others there that he still considers friends. He said it seemed like the Midwest people stuck together. “In those days, the east and west coasts were going through a hippie period,” he pointed out, adding that being a farm boy from Minnesota helped. “Physically, it wasn’t hard,” John recalls. “The mental harassment is what would get you if you let it.”

Basic Training began in November of 1968. After completing that and getting to go home for a short Christmas break, John would then head to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, for infantry training; at the end of that came the “jungle training.” John got orders that stated he’d be going to Vietnam in April of 1969. Before his journey to the battle zone, he was able to go back home for about three days, saying goodbye and soaking in any last-minute moments to carry with him over to war. 

John didn’t pick the infantry, which is the branch that engages in military combat on foot; it was assigned to him. When asked how this assignment made him feel, he casually replied, “I don’t know if it made a hell of a lot of difference what the job was going to be. Vietnam was a different war. There were no front or rear lines. It didn’t matter if you were in the jungle or on the base.”

When he arrived to Vietnam, he was quickly put on a helicopter that flew a group of men to a fire support base where they would meet up with their company. John explained that there were two types of bases – the base camps typically held a hospital, landing pads, communications, runways…then there were fire support bases, which normally was the perimeter of artillery where infantry stayed when they were out on patrol.

Around the Cu Chi area, John was stationed in a part of South Vietnam that was called The Delta. In his squad, there were nine guys. Sometimes it was just them getting dropped off in a landing zone, sometimes they would group together with others. The time period being off base could vary from a day or night to 6-8 days before they’d be picked back up. “Sometimes we’d be awake for 24-30 hours at a time. We’d try to get some sleep, whether that be on the ground, an air mattress or if we were with a mechanized company, we’d sleep on the tracks,” he shared.

The terrain would vary from jungle to rubber tree plantations to rice paddies. 

Out of respect for his up close and personal experience, no questions were asked about John’s time in the field of battle. He did offer some insight, however, explaining that the initial engagement was made by the infantry. Artillery would shell the area, along with gunships, which are heavily armed helicopters. And if/when needed, the infantry would call in backup, which would include the Airforce with their F-11’s.

A term he also used during our interview was “Dustoff.” The technical definition of a Dustoff is an aeromedical evacuation. The practical definition is the difference between life and death to a wounded American in the field. 

John has a couple of professional books that document The U.S. 25th Infantry Division in Vietnam from 1968-1969. In fact, his photos appears on several of the pages. In this book, which is so captivating, yet emotional, to page through, the term “Dustoff” is brought to life. 

The book describes: “The ultimate personal understanding of battle comes in that searing moment when a man discovers that he’s been hit; he’s bleeding. At that instant begins the most phenomenal of all operations in the war – the Dustoff. Medics assigned to the platoons provide immediate and skilled first aid, often at the risk of their own lives. But that is temporary, designed only to prevent shock and loss of blood. In a matter of minutes the dustoff ship, an unarmed flying ambulance, will land to pick up the wounded man and rush him to one of the base camp hospitals where the finest medical skills and equipment are available. The crew aboard the chopper is trained to administer further medical aid, anesthetics, or blood, and to prepare the man for the emergency room”

Dustoffs had a red cross on them – on the belly or the side. John knows this, personally, as he was injured and evacuated by one on June 6th, 1969. “Every year I drink a little beer that day,” he got quiet and lowered his head. 

John was on patrol that day when a Vietnamese-launched RPG (rocket-propelled grenade) struck. Two men in his group lost their lives in the attack while John sustained stomach and leg injuries. He was evacuated to a hospital about 30-40 miles away and says of the Dustoff, “Those guys that come in to get you…they are heroes in every sense of the word.”

The raw emotions don’t go away; not even years later. 

After taking a moment, we went on to briefly discuss John’s time in Cambodia. He was moved there from April until June of 1970 as the Vietnamese used the Cambodia border as a supply route to bring in arms and personnel. While there, John received the opportunity to go on a short R & R (rest and recuperation). “A lot of us went to Australia. Some of the married guys would go to Hawaii for a couple of days and meet up with their wives. Some would go to Thailand,” he recalled. John spent his 6-day R & R in the Sydney and Melbourne areas of Australia.

During his time of service, John didn’t keep a personal diary or take any photos, but he did write a lot of letters. With mail only occasionally coming and going, those letters were sent back home to family, high school classmates and good friends.

John was in Cambodia when he received his discharge papers. He was flown back to the base in Saigon, Vietnam, for the transition process, where he would then leave Vietnam on June 20th, 1970. Flying to Japan, then to Alaska, next to California and a couple of days later to Minneapolis, John caught a ride home with Tim Kassa. After going their separate ways after Basic Training, the two friends were discharged from the United States Army at the same time and even ended up on the same plane. They had written to each other some as Tim was also in the 25th Infantry, although he wasn’t directly with John. The two did end up seeing each other a couple of times overseas. 

That summer of ’70 involved a lot of “welcome home” parties before John returned back to work. Because everyone was getting drafted at the same time, a lot of people were coming back within weeks of each other. Of that time, John admitted honestly, “The summer of ’70 is something we just had to do.”

He later began working part-time in heating and air conditioning. He also attended tech school on a GI Bill. At that time, tech school was tuition-free; the only thing you had to pay for was books and tools you needed. The VA provided a monthly allowance to those furthering their education. John went to one year of electronics, but ended up not finishing; that part-time job turned into a full-time career that would last 50 years!

He took pride in joining numerous veteran organizations that summer of ’70 and is still a proud member today. After the Grygla VFW dissolved, John transferred his membership to Thief River Falls, where he is also a member of the American Legion Post #117 and is a very active member and President of the Color Guard. He is also a member of the DAV (Disabled American Veterans) and encourages any veterans out there to join any one of these clubs, saying, “We are running out of people and we need them.” He urges anyone interested in becoming a new member to do so, or even an ex-member who wants to rejoin and become a little more active. “We do 30-40 military funerals a year. It’s getting harder and harder without members,” he pointed out. 

As a veteran, John reflects back on his time of service with pride and respect. When asked if he would do it all over again, he quickly responded, “Definitely,” adding, “Our country, the government, our flag…it’s all very important to me.”

John has visited the Vietnam Memorials in St. Paul and also Washington, D.C., saying that each contain so much history and opportunity for reflection. He has also seen the Traveling Vietnam Memorial about half a dozen times when it’s been in the area. Called “The Wall That Heals,” John can agree there is some healing in it and closed our interview by acknowledging his fellow veterans in attendance at these memorials. “There’s other people there that get it – they understand what you went through,” he nodded quietly.

Thank you, John, for sharing your story and for serving our country. Happy Veterans Day.