Ed Krensel (above) is the CEO and chairman of the Enecon Corporation, a manufacturer of high performance polymers. One of Krensel’s biggest customers is the U.S. Navy. As a non-commissioned officer in charge of all special services and USO shows for the 8th Army, Ed Krensel met several stars of the times including singer and movie star Debbie Reynolds (below, second from left).


Bucks veteran dodged sniper fire
while on guard duty in Korea.

By Bob Staranowicz
BucksLocalNews.com

The characteristic “click-click” sound from the bolt-action of an M-1 rifle could be heard from beyond the perimeter of the base camp. Strong lights illuminated the bunker line as North Korean ex-POWs ambled just across the outer limits of the base. The war was over, the truce in effect, but pilfered weapons were being used by the former enemy to snipe at the U.S. soldiers as they performed their nightly guard duty in a fully illuminated “fish-bowl.” As several shots rang out, they scurried for cover. Fortunately, on this particular night, however, no one was hit; no one was injured.

The Korean War began in June of 1950 when South Korea was invaded by troops of North Korea. The war continued for over three years and officially ended on July 27, 1953. In Panmunjom, 18 official copies of Korean Armistice Agreement were signed after over 150 meetings spread over two years. The truce went into effect at 10 a.m. on the 27th. All hostilities were suspended and all military forces were withdrawn from a 4,000 meter wide area — the Demilitarized Zone or DMZ. Even though the armistice ceased all hostilities, it was not, and is still not, a permanent treaty.

American troops still had a presence in South Korea after the end of the war and they still do today. Ed Krensel, a Doylestown resident, was sent to Korea after being drafted into the U.S. Army in 1953. Krensel was born in Philadelphia in 1933. After graduating from Olney High School, he attended Temple University for two years. He then entered the military and was off to Camp Pickett, Virginia for basic training, as well as his medical training. After his training was completed, it was off to Korea to serve in the medical aid field. This assignment was short-lived, however, and Ed moved on to serving as the NCO (non-commissioned officer) in charge of all Special Services and USO shows for the 8th Army. In that capacity, he was able to meet many stars of the times, including singer and movie star, Debbie Reynolds, pop music sister duo The Bell Sisters, and the Kim Sisters —a trio who knew no English but memorized the words to American songs. One other personality, who was very supportive of the Armed Forces, was Johnny Grant. Johnny was an American radio personality and television producer who also served as the honorary mayor of Hollywood. He made 15 trips to Korea and during that war provided wounded servicemen with free telephone calls home when they arrived at California’s Travis Air Force Base Hospital. His program was called Grant’s “GI Phone Fund.” This practice is still alive today — Operation Uplink — providing calling cards for our troops serving all over the world.

While Krensel would have liked to have stayed in Korea, he contracted jaundice and was sent to an Army Hospital in Japan. There, he completed his two-year draft commitment. While in Japan, he was promoted to the rank of staff sergeant, serving as an entertainment specialist in the Special Services organization. Although Krensel was in Korea after hostilities had ended, he still had some close calls from sniper fire while on guard duty. The only part of the service that Ed disliked was basic training. He found the rest of his service enjoyable and made many friends. It is these friendships that he misses the most after leaving the service. Ed has been back to Korea five times since leaving duty to visit his old units in Panmunjom in the village of Munsan.



Ed has been happily married to his wife, Vivian, since 1977. He is the CEO and chairman of Enecon Corporation, a manufacturer of high performance polymers. Enecon’s High Performance Polymer Composites Division provides an extraordinary range of repair and reclamation products for all types of fluid flow machinery, equipment, buildings and plant structures. The U.S. Navy is one of Enecon’s biggest customers.

Ed has been a Philadelphia Mummer since 1966 in the Fancy Division. He also enjoys clay shooting in his leisure time. Ed is active member of VFW Post 175 in Doylestown.

Labels: Army, Doylestown, Vietnam

Upper Black Eddy resident Steven Christiano (above)
served with the U.S. Marine Corps in Central America,
Africa and the Persian Gulf. Christiano (below) at age 17.


Keeping the Wolf at Bay: The life of a ‘lifer’ Marine

By Daniel Brooks
BucksLocalNews.com Editor

"There is no life other than service to your country,” many have often heard Steven Christiano, a resident of Upper Black Eddy, quickly quip to any and all within earshot. He often follows this statement by flashing an impish grin.

“There are those that are weak and then there are the Marines,” said part teasing, part instigating, part boasting. Another frequent mantra of Christiano is: “Are you prepared to keep the wolf at bay? If not, don’t blame those who do!” Christiano, though no longer in the United States Marines, like many that have served there, will never stop being a Marine.

Born into a “military family,” the first of five children with a 6-foot-6 ex-Marine father, Christiano is one of five generations of family who have dutifully served their country. He grew up in the ‘70s and ‘80s in New Providence — a very green, small town in the mountains of central Jersey — and his dad taught him to appreciate all of the resources available there: hunting, fishing and boating among them. He was taught to construct and encouraged in life survival skills. In a family of taller siblings, at 5-foot-8 Steve was, as he says, “the runt of the litter.”

“My Dad was a big man. He and I were a lot alike,” says Christiano. “I was the ‘econo’ version of him.” Always interested in strength, he became an avid recreation seeker, gym body-builder and spent most of his youth mastering martial arts. Despite all of his dedication to self-discipline, he gained a reputation for being the neighborhood hell-raiser.

Though mischievous and outspoken in school, his heroes were tough teachers and ex-Marines. “They taught me three principles: be smart, be respectful and know yourself,” says Christiano. “I said to myself, ‘I want to be like them’. I was drawn to people who have something that separates them from others.” He was an academically quick kid — a voracious reader of books — and had no problem skipping through to graduation from New Providence High School. Almost immediately after, he enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps.

He describes his 10 weeks of boot camp on Parris Island, S.C, as “graduating into life.” After several months in the infantry at base in Quantico, Va., Christiano was selected for “Fast Company School,” a security detail training session in Norfolk, Va., where he was picked for “the Fleet,” a group whose mission was basically national security. He spent his first duty abroad in various locales, dutifully trouble-shooting in Central America. While he can’t discuss his assignments, these were the days of Noriega and drug trafficking. “My job was basically cleaning up messes,” he jokes. All the while Chistiano was working intelligence, he continued to upgrade his combatant skills — necessary for what was to be his next tours, in the jungles and deserts of Africa.

In Africa, Christiano and his group cross-trained with international defenders such as the British Royal Marines and the French Foreign Legion, together integral parts to the massive military infrastructure which defends U.S. concerns abroad. His subsection acted as scouts and he was sent wherever there was suspicion of “trouble” until called into active permanent detail in the Persian Gulf — it was 1992 and it was all about Desert Storm. Acting as “scout sniper,” Christiano was sent ahead of the larger groups to learn key enemy strengths and weaknesses.

“Wherever there was trouble, whatever they needed to ‘see up-front,’ that’s where we got sent,” says Christiano. “We were professional fighters — we went where we were told.”

For all years which the hunt for Hassan Hussein raged, Christiano and his friends were in the dangerous thick of it.

“As a sniper my job was to save other Marines,” he says. “Each day you didn’t know what that would mean for you.”

Christiano still holds true his vows of mission secrecy. While he loves to tell stories of his buddies and their antics during off-duty adventures, asking for mission details will send the generally gregarious, chatty, fun-loving Christiano to silence. One can sense that asking those questions not only invades his privacy and conflict with his military ethics but that, in addition, they are just too difficult for him to think about.

After eight years and numerous injuries, the U.S. Marines wanted Christiano on safer ground. He did not, desiring to stay in combat. The conflict led to his honorable discharge as a staff sergeant at the end of his final tour in 1995. He remained in the Marine Reserves until 2002.

During those five years he struggled with his adjustment to civilian life, started a construction business, married and moved up river from New Hope. In the past years he and wife, Lara, have had two children: Maximilian, 4, and Corbin, 2, and he hopes the kids will continue his values. Despite his success in rebuilding a life, Christiano has not had an easy time leaving the military and he is often restless.

Looking through his old pictures Christiano came across a picture of his reconnaissance group, about 15 Marines, clowning at a stateside wedding, a bunch of comrades who fought the “bad guys” and defended their country together.

“Each would go the ‘extra mile’ for the other, often endangering their own lives in doing so,” adds Christiano. “That is what Marines do — they look out for each other.”

These 15 men have seen life sights in a few years that most will not see in a lifetime.

Christiano said that 13 of those men are now dead. He mourns their loss and also the absence in his life of the bonds the Marine environment provided them. “Being a Marine is the best thing. If you can make it in the Marine Corps you can make it anywhere. People wise, it is the best of the best.” he still states proudly. “You have a group that genuinely believes in the work they are doing, what they are defending, and whatever the local conscious is they are not swayed by it. They are there to do a job. In the Marine Corps, for those who make it, everyone learns to best do their job. People don’t join the Marine Corps because the Marines are different than other branches of service; they join because they are different than other people.”

Christiano has spent years of his civilian life trying to employ his Marine ethics with others in need. As a professional contractor, he is constantly helping people of the area, voluntarily, with their home disaster problems, will be the first one to stop for an accident and the last one to leave a job done if he feels he is being treated with respect and fairness.

Often he speaks of his concern for the future. “America is a great country but if we don’t quickly come together as a one-world community we are going to run into some really bad problems down the road,” Christiano says.

He added, “We are running out of resources and we owe it to the next generation to put it together.” As for himself and his integration into civilian life, he says, “I still try to live my life in the tradition of the Marine Corps, whether that means duty to my country, my family or my neighbors.”

***

While writing this “salute” story and searching for a summation I stumbled on a statue of Kemble Warren, a major general in the Civil War and New York governor. My eye was caught by a small inscription at the end of Warren’s military career biography, carved on a tarnished brass plaque. It reads: “Everything to him was subordinated by duty.” I stood there for awhile thinking that for my friend Steven Christiano and for many veterans past and present, in every aspect of their lives, they are compelled by fighting “the good fight.” Duty is their real story, from beginning to end.. — D.B.

Labels: Gulf War, Marines, New Hope

At age 21, Milton R. Simonds (above) completed
a U.S. Navy program at Tufts University. Simonds
(below) is a past commander of VFW Post 6393.


Bucks County resident was a U.S. Navy operations
officer — the third ranking officer on the ship.

By Petra Chesner Schlatter
BucksLocalNews.com Staff Editor

U.S. Navy Lt. Commander Milton R. Simonds, USN Retired, dedicated much of his life to the Navy.

For Simonds, the Navy gave him purpose and he looks back at his strides as a humble retiree. He does not look for fanfare.

He graduated from Tufts University in Medford, Mass., with a Bachelor of Science degree in engineering. Simonds also attended the Naval War College in Newport, R.I. He later earned an MBA from the University of Delaware.

A Yardley resident, Simonds went to college under a Navy program. World War II had ended in 1945 and the Korean War had started in 1950 before he entered the active service. He was on the rolls from 1947 to 1990 in one capacity or another.

Simonds spent many a day aboard numerous vessels, starting as a midshipman in 1947. He was commissioned an ensign upon graduation from college and reached the rank of lieutenant commander. He eventually retired as a reservist in 1973.

The array of assignments started on the battleship USS Iowa in 1948. “We went to Pearl Harbor out of the west coast.” In 1950, the year before he graduated from college, he was a midshipman on the destroyer USS Basilone out of Norfolk, Va.

From 1951-54, he was an ensign on the destroyer USS Compton out of Newport, R.I.

“We kept coming back to Newport and going back out again and again to Europe, usually for four- to six-month cruises.”

Next it was the light cruiser USS Roanoke from 1954-55 out of Norfolk, Va., as a lieutenant junior grade (LTJG), as the Combat Information Center officer. As a lieutenant, Simonds was on the minesweeper USS Adroit in 1957. The minesweeper went to the Virgin Islands out of Charleston, S.C. In 1959, it was a training cruise on the attack cargo ship USS Capricornus out of Norfolk, Va. to Ft. Lauderdale.

Simonds remembers being on the USS Compton which took him to Suda Bay, Crete, an island south of Greece. “We were visiting various European ports in Italy, Greece, Algiers and Spain.”
At one time, he was in Spain, Triest and Turkey. “When I was over there in 1951, it was under the rules and regulations of a U.S. Navy organization. There was a lot of antagonism at one point.

At that time, most of the people liked the Navy to visit and spend their money, but that isn’t why we were there.

“We were there to bolster the support of the people who had lived through the WWII era,” Simonds said.

“Some of the places I wouldn’t have believed existed,” Simonds said. “Turkey, for instance, was in very poor shape when we were there. I’d call it the infrastructure and organization.

“Southern France was beautiful —Cannes, Nice, Villefranche. They had pretty much recovered their livelihood in those areas. Villefranche is where the headquarters of the Sixth Fleet were at that time and is near Monte Carlo.”

Simonds said one of his most important jobs was when he was on the destroyer. He was operations officer, which is the third ranking officer on the ship. “The operations officer supervises the radar people, the communications people, the anti-submarine warfare and warfare and electronics people.”

He supervised court-martials and disciplinary efforts. “I was also an air controller on the destroyer collaterally — you do a lot of things at the same time. The air controller is a specific person who controls air strikes and searches from aircraft.”

About being in the service, Simonds said, “It was the proper way to serve the country. I was brought up in a Naval Air environment in my hometown of Brunswick, Maine. I just learned to love it, that’s all.”

Talking about the world in the 1950s, he said, “We were really getting into the Cold War era from the end of WWII. We were always kept aware of the possibilities that we would go back to war. The Korean War started the year before I graduated in 1950. We were at war in one area of the world already.”

About the Iraq War, Simonds said, “My personal opinion is that with all of the terrorism that is going on in the world, that it becomes our necessity to combat it wherever it occurs and to keep it away from our shores.”

Now, at age 77, he is involved as a leader with the VFW Post 6393 in Yardley-Lower Makefield as well as at the District level. The Post, with its 176 members, is located on Yardley-Newtown Road. District 8 comprises the 21 posts in Bucks and Lehigh counties.

While Simonds was commander of VFW Post 6393, his organization was awarded the title of All-Department (State) Post for two years. The Post met and exceeded what is required by the District.

Belonging to the Post means brotherhood to Simonds. “We’re all supposed to be comrades of the organization and as such we try to support each other in terms of operations and what their situations are,” he said. “Comradeship is the main theme because all the members have gone through a specific war or conditions of war that binds them together.”

Labels: Korea, Navy, Yardley

Tom Zogorski (above) trained some of America’s elite flyers while
serving at Childress Air Force Base in Childress, Tex. Zogorski
(below) looks over some photos from his time in the service.
(Photo by Peter Ciferri)


Bucks County resident found that training bombardiers
during World War II could be a dangerous task.

By Peter Ciferri
BucksLocalNews.com Editor

A cross-wind sweeps across a shortened runway, an inexperienced student pilot overcorrects for takeoff and you suddenly find yourself co-pilot of a small plane spinning 360-degrees, landing gear and one wing collapsing against the ground.

Moments like this were among the challenges 1st Lt. Tom Zogorski of Newtown faced while serving as an instructor at Childress Air Force Base in Childress, Tex. during World War II.

The pilot in this story was a young member of the Women’s Auxiliary Corps, and as one of the more experienced instructors at the base, Zogorski was assigned to train the flight’s bombardier. But neither he nor the pilot ever expected the wild ride.

“That’s about the most excitement I think I ever had,” Zogorski said. “The plane went down on one wing and it spun around in circles.”

Tom Zogorski, his cousin Stanley and John Marker of Dolington, were the first Newtown residents drafted into World War II, receiving the call on April 1, 1941. Tom was sent to Ft. Meade, Md., where he would go through basic training and field artillery training, but it wasn’t until his graduation in May of 1943 that Zogorski would truly find his role in the war effort.

Zogorski says he had never piloted an aircraft and had only been a passenger in a few light airplanes when the Army Air Corps selected him for bombardier training, but after six months of target practice, it was clear the Newtown native was among the best in his class.

Flying at anywhere from 4,000 to 13,000 feet in a Beechcraft AT-11, Zogorski came within about 90 feet of his targets, compiling a “circular air” average of over 30 feet better than the class average. Not bad, especially considering a Beechcraft can reach a maximum speed of 225 m.p.h.

“It takes practice to become proficient. It’s very sensitive adjustments that you have to make,” Zogorski said of the knobs used to align the plane and synchronize speeds for an accurate drop. “What you’re doing is making your plane fly on a course that will take you over your target.”

As a student, Tom was training partners with Walter Yerkes Jr., a 17-year-old from Southampton, who Zogorski didn’t know before training. He soon discovered they lived minutes apart their entire lives.

“It was nice to know somebody from the same area,” Zogorski remembered.

As a flight commander training America’s elite for combat, Tom looked back on a man from his training, Charles Eikner, whom he called “a top-notch instructor.” Zogorski said he still stays in contact with Eikner, who lives in Texas, and was happy to teach his students everything Eikner had taught him.

“He just had a knack for teaching,” he said. “I certainly passed on everything he told me that I thought was worth passing along.”

Zogorski says dropping the 5-foot-long bombs filled with sand and black powder was “like a job” for most of his students, but added that it wasn’t a job everyone in the Air Corps could handle.

“A lot of them just couldn’t do it,” Zogorski said. “You just had to tell them, ‘You’re at the end, we just can’t have you anymore.’” He says those soldiers would be reassigned to ground duties like maintaining the base and its planes.

The role of flight commander meant Zogorski was responsible for approving bombardier students before their graduation, and he says the most important thing he looked for was a soldier who could maintain a level head, executing procedure without getting too nervous. And sometimes those decisions weren’t cut and dry.

“I had one student, a real good student, but every time he went up in the air he would get airsick,” Zogorski recalled. “He had a big sheep jacket on and he would puke inside his jacket … You can’t hide that.”

Zogorski says he knew the student was an excellent bombardier, so provisions had to be made to ensure his graduation. “I told him, ‘Take a bag with you, puke in the bag and throw it out the window and everything will be fine.’ He did that every damn time and I passed him.”

Mishaps in training didn’t always have a slapstick ending, however. Zogorski was somber as he remembered four men who died when their plane clipped another during training exercises, and while he did not oversee those students, the bond of brotherhood was clear in his voice.

But through it all, Zogorski says he was always comfortable in the bombardier’s front row seat, a glass enclosure that looks directly out the nose of the plane. “You had a good bird’s eye view; you were the first one there,” he joked, adding, “It was just a routine thing: You got in the airplane and you took off.”

Labels: Army, Newtown, World War II