[Toaster]

This is a track that Gary Beikirch has published and distributes. I have received verbal permission from him to post this here.

For His Honor

On April 1, 1970...I almost lost my life.

On July 2, 1972...I found eternal life.

On October 15, 1973...my country said I was a hero...but I knew the truth.

Once a man of war...

Now a man of God.

This is the Testimony of Gary Beikirch.



I would like to share with you two of the most significant experiences in my life. My experiences in Vietnam taught me life-changing lessons: How precious life

is...how frightening death is...and how important God is to both life and death. After being med-evaced from Vietnam, wounded three times, and spending almost a year

in the hospital, I was left with questions that I could not answer an anger I could not control, and a guilt that almost destroyed me. What I needed was my second

experience.


Two years after leaving Vietnam, a friend shared with me a simple but powerful message: God loved me.... He had forgiven me because His Son, Jesus Christ, died

for me. He wanted me to receive His Gift of love and eternal life. He wanted me to begin to live for Him and fulfill the unique purpose He had planned for my life. God

has allowed me to wear the Medal of Honor for only one reason: to share with others the love He has shown to me and the world through His Son, Jesus Christ. 'To really

live you must almost die. To those who fight for it...life has a meaning...the protected will never know!' (Sign in Special Forces team house in Vietnam.) War and

death, but more importantly, the love of God has taught me that life does have a very special meaning. May your life find meaning in the life and love of Jesus Christ


CITATION
For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty. Sgt. Beikirch, medical aidman, Detachment B-24, Company

B, distinguished himself during the defense of Camp Dek Seang.


The allied defenders suffered a number of casualties as a result of an intense, devastating attack launched by the enemy from well-concealed positions surrounding the

camp. Sgt. Beikirch, with complete disregard for his personal safety, moved unhesitatingly through the withering enemy fire to his fallen comrades, applied first aid

to their wounds and assisted them to the medical aid station. When informed that a seriously injured American officer was lying in an exposed position, Sgt. Beikirch

ran immediately through the hail of fire. Although he was wounded seriously by fragments from an exploding enemy mortar shell, Sgt. Beikirch carried the officer to a

medical aid station. Ignoring his own serious injuries, Sgt. Beikirch left the relative safety of the medical bunker to search for and evacuate other men who had been

injured. He was again wounded as he dragged a critically injured Vietnamese soldier to the medical bunker while simultaneously applying mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to

sustain his life. Sgt. Beikirch again refused treatment and continued his search for other casualties until he collapsed. Only then did he permit himself to be

treated. Sgt. Beikirch's complete devotion to the welfare of his comrades, at the risk of his life, are in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service

and reflect great credit on him, his unit and the U.S. Army.


FOR HIS HONOR
April 1st, 1970...over thirty years ago but I can still hear the screams, the explosions, the gunfire. April Fools day...if only it could have been a joke...but it was

not. It was painfully real.


I was a member of a Green Beret Special Forces A Team in Vietnam. Our peaceful Montagnard jungle camp was surrounded by 3 North Vietnamese regiments. Inside the camp

of Dak Seang were 12 Americans and 2,300 Montagnard villagers, mostly women and children. It is still their screams and lifeless bodies that I remember even today.


Artillery and rockets began pounding the camp in the early morning and continued for hours. Then the "human wave" assault of ground troops began. Our jungle home had

become a scene of horror, terror, and death.


Running across an open area, I saw a wounded Montagnard (we affectionately called them "Yards") lying on the ground. As I was trying to bandage his wounds, I heard

"it" coming, like a diesel train...more artillery...maybe a 122mm rocket. As I threw my body over the wounded man to shield him from the explosion, I felt like I had

been kicked in the back by a horse. Shrapnel from the blasts slammed into my back and abdomen. The concussion from the blast threw me about 25 feet into a wall of

sandbags by our mortar pit. I tried to get up but could not move my legs. I remember laughing and thinking to myself, "Well, at least I'm alive...and hey!...there's a

Purple Heart." I looked back to see what had happened to the "Yard" I had covered and all that was left was pieces...the explosion had torn him apart. How? Why? I was

lying on top of him. Why was I still alive? These questions would plague me for years, but at that moment there was too much to do.


Two other "Yards" suddenly appeared and picked me up. They wanted to take me to the underground medical bunker but I yelled "No!! We've got things to do up here." For

hours they carried bodies, distributed ammo, directed fire and fought for our lives. As I continued to lose blood, I was getting weaker. Also, by this time, I was

wounded two more times. I finally lost consciousness. When I awoke I realized that they had taken me to the underground medical bunker. Pat, a new medic in camp said,

"Man, you're hurt bad. We got to get you out of here." I screamed out to my "Yards": "Get me out of here. If I am going to die, I am not going to die down here." A

year of living with these "Yards" had developed a strong bond of love and trus between us. It was this bond that made them pick me up and carry me back out into the

battle.