My Friend that I Spent One Year With
by Dave "Doc" Holladay
Bravo Co. 1st Platoon, 1/501 I Core. In July '68, after flying up north from initial coming-in-country training, I was loaded on a deuce and half and sent to L.Z.Sally with a few other green recruits like me. I did not pay much attention to these new men, cause everything around us was so new. It was all like another world! A few days later, two of us cherries were put on a bird and flown to the field. Bart Demma was the other new man, and we wound up being in the same platoon.

My father was a machine gunner in Bastogne, and The Battle of The Bulge. One of the last things he told me before I left to be flown to 'Nam was, "Son, don't carry a machine gun". Bart and I met our new platoon Sgt., and he said they had just lost a machine gunner and needed a new one. He looked at me and said, "You will do!" I could have cried at that moment. He then turned and looked at Bart, and said, "No, you will carry the M-60, because Demma, you are bigger." I was so relieved to hear that, but I said nothing to anyone.

As the weeks and months went by, Bart and I both had our own squads and became Sgt.'s and our squads were linked closely to one another. We helped one another many times. Bart, from the Chicago area, and me from the St. Louis area, were somewhat similar. I remember one nasty firefight day in "Lamar Plain", that Bart's squad was to take point , and my squad was 2nd. We had just gotten out of the worst one week fire fight that all of us had ever had. The Battalion had pretty much joined for this one, a butt kicker, with a lot of us wounded and killed. We had a big pile of weapons left over from the wounded and killed, and were told as we moved past the pile to pick up a spare weapon and some of the extra ammo that was finally flown in. The wounded and killed were choppered out and we were to move our position.

I picked up a M-16, checked that it had a full magazine and one in the chamber, then moved out like the rest of Bravo Company, going about 300 meters . Gary Maddock was Bart's point man, and Bart was slack man. My squad was next in line. Moving a entire company in single file takes a lot of time...the old caterpillar trick! We had to cross the end of a field from one set of woods to another, and Bart picked that spot because it was less exposed to the field crossing. I could not see Gary or Bart because of the foliage, but heard AK shooting. Bart hollered to me to lay down suppressing fire while he went out in the field to get Gary, who had been shot. I told my men to run to the edge of the wood line and fire up the hillside. That was the only time in 'Nam, that I had a M-16 jam! The rifle that I had just picked up from the pile had jammed. I'd had no time to clean the rifle chamber, and my good friend was in real trouble. I had a new M-79 man shadowing me, and he had just froze. No shooting or anything - he was paralyzed - and I had no time to talk him through it. I needed that M-79 shooting as fast as it could into that hill side where bunkers were. So I took my pack off and dropped the 2 M-16s that I had, grabbed his M-79, and told him to hand me H.E. rounds as fast as I could shoot his grenade launcher. Bart and Gary's life were depending on me to come through. I shot that '79 so fast, it set a speed record I bet! Bart got Gary back into the wood line and someone called the F-4's in. Lord, did the cannons cut all the foliage off the trees on that hill side. To make a long story short, Bart was a very good friend of mine and I was proud to do what ever I could to get him out of that jam. Bart and I left 'Nam about the same time, and I have not heard from him for 42 years. I'm trying to make contact with him now. Bart, are you out there?



Dave "Doc" Hollady
B/1/501: Vietnam 1968-'69