Immediately Introduced Himself
I first met LCpl Gary Keller during ITR (advanced infantry training) at Camp Pendleton in late 1966. All the Marines looked alike in their utilities and short cropped hair. One stood out from the others. He appeared to be more mature and with no chevrons, I assumed he was an officer. He was a private. It was our first day at the training facility and we were being assigned billeting in Quonset huts. As I was putting my gear away, a Marine tapped me on the shoulder. “My name is Gary Keller and I am from Yakima, Washington.” I introduced myself as PFC John Foster. I was surprised that Keller had just completed boot camp. I thought he was older but he was 18, just like me. After we all got settled in, we were called out on the deck for a promotion ceremony. About 6 Marines were being promoted to LCpl. Gary was one of them but he was getting his first promotion to PFC.
We became very good friends and spent most of our off-duty hours together. One weekend we had a three-day pass and decided to hitchhike to my hometown, Santa Cruz, California. We caught a ride right away. Gary immediately introduced himself to the driver, “My name is Gary Keller and I’m from Yakima.” The driver who was driving to San Francisco gave us a ride all the way to Santa Cruz which was a seven hour drive. Gary kept me and the driver entertained all the way with stories of life in Yakima. When the driver dropped us off at my Mom’s house, Gary gave the driver a $100 bill. That was more than we made in a month. That $100 could have paid for both of us to fly round trip.
After several weeks of intense infantry training, we were ready to take on the entire Viet Cong and NVA. Gary wasn’t scared at all. He was more interested in visiting a lush tropical country and getting to know their people.
We flew to Vietnam aboard a Flying Tiger DC-10. Gar began introducing himself to the stewardesses and crew. “My name isa Gary keller and I am from Yakima.” We were on our way to war yet Gary helped make the flight reasonably pleasant. He returned all the money he won in poker games. And if he saw a Marine who seemed nervous, he would start a conversation to cheer them up. As we got off the plane in Da Nang, many of the Marines were pleading with the stewardesses for a last goodbye kiss. They only obliged with a hug. As Gary was leaving the plane, he said goodbye to one of the ladies and then whispered something in her ear. She replied with a kiss on his lips. I would have never believed it if I hadn’t seen it. Must have been his charm. There was a staging area in Da Nang for all the new arrivals. Unlike the War in Iraq, we never deployed over as a unit. We went as a group and once there, we were individually assigned units. I was immediately assigned to 2/9, 3rd MarDiv. I lost contact with Gary and never knew what unit he went to.
We arrived in country during some of the fiercest fighting of the Vietnam War. I often wondered how Gary was doing. I figured he would use his charm to survive.
I was wounded during Tet of 68. The million dollar wound got me back to the states. While I was recuperating in a military hospital, someone gave me a copy of the May, 1968 issue of Leatherneck Magazine. In it was an article about the Battle of Hue. And there was a picture of Gary giving protection for his men with his M-60 machine gun. I then learned that he had been assigned to Hotel, 2/5. When I got out of the hospital I wrote Gary a letter. I sent a picture of me, my new girlfriend and my 56 Chevy. I never got a response from Gary.
About a year later, while attending Marine Security Guard School. I ran into a Marine by the name of Rooker. Rooker had trained with us and was even on our flight to Vietnam. He then told me that Gary had shown him the letter I sent. “Well the dirty rat didn’t write me back.” I said. Rooker then told me that Gary had been killed in July of 1968. He apparently tripped an anti-personnel mine. I was devastated. I wanted to call his family but didn’t know who or how to call.
It had taken me 40 years to put this letter together and I am appreciative that the Yakima Helad Republic newspaper allowed me to include it in their Veterans Day issue.
One of the reasons I put the article in the paper was in hopes that it would flush out a relative of Gary’s. Sure enough it did. At 10:00 am on Veteran’s Day I received a call from Lynn Keller Locke, Gary’s sister. I had a lump in my throat the size of a golf ball. I didn’t quite know what to say. I didn’t have to say anything. She was so grateful and she expressed her gratitude with tears of joy and sadness at the same time. She had been awaken out of bed by her aunt who first read the article. She then awaken her mother who is also Gary’s mother. Her name is Anna and she is still going strong at 90 years of age. Lynn put her Mom on the phone and I now have two lumps in my throat. I was so overwhelmed with the conversation. Anna began thanking me for remembering her son. She was mostly apologizing for crying. I told that it was perfectly okay. “If it makes you feel better, I’m crying too.” I also told her that Gary was a hero. No, he was never awarded any medals for valor but he was a hero just the same. His character made him loved by all that knew him. He wasn’t your stereotype Marine. He was too charming. But I believe that Gary was also a hero on the battlefield. He was proficient with his M-60 and it was that proficiency that allowed many of his brothers in arms come home.
GySgt John D. Foster
USMC veteran
Echo 2/9 67-68