Ex-Marine knows a thing or two about dedication and sacrifice.

By R. Kurt Osenlund, BucksLocalNews.com


Former Marine and Perkasie resident John Sandle has a natural inclination to help others, which he admits has sometimes gotten him into trouble. An outwardly stoic man, but one with a clearly emotional center, Sandle, 64, says he tries hard to focus on positive things and leave bad memories in the past, but he does make it a point to mention that he was stabbed five times and shot once, all before graduating from Bloomfield Tech High School in Essex County, N.J. At least two of the incidents came as a result of Sandle attempting to help a stranger, and when Sandle told his father he was interested in joining the Marine Corps, the response he got was plain and simple: “There are two things the Marines can teach you better than I can,” his father, Frederick, told him, “defending yourself and running away.”

Sandle did little of the latter throughout his military career, which began on Nov. 5, 1963 when he was still a senior in high school. He says he was the first guy in his class to go into the service and, as far as he knows, the fourth guy in his class to ultimately go to Vietnam. Sandle first enlisted with the Marine Corps Reserves, unable to jump right into active duty given his status as the sole surviving son of a WWII Army veteran. After appealing to the right people, Sandle was able to dodge the restriction, but before deploying he stayed home to tend to his father as he battled cancer. When Sandle was 19, his father passed away, and he reported to Camp Lejeune in North Carolina.

With his basic training already complete, Sandle stepped in as an armor, test-firing and repairing weapons. At roughly the same time, his wife Sandra, whom he’d married in 1966, gave birth to his son, Todd. And when Todd was one month old, Sandle received orders for Vietnam, one of many instances in which he’d be forced to choose work over family.

“I knew I had a job to do and I knew I’d be going [to Vietnam] eventually, but it was unfortunate it had to happen right then,” Sandle says.

Sandle first reported to Okinawa, where he initially spent much of his time as a file clerk while waiting for the recuperation of his left ear, which he injured by not wearing protective gear while test-firing weapons (to this day, the ear has never recovered, says Sandle, who’s 85 percent deaf in his left ear and 50 percent deaf in his right – the result of another injury in Southeast Asia). For the unit in Okinawa, his mission eventually became to repair all Marine Corps weapons in Southeast Asia, from handguns to tanks, and to send teams of men into Vietnam to repair weapons in the field.

During his 13-month stay in Okinawa, Sandle’s second child, Pam, was born, and when he was reassigned to California’s Camp Pendleton, serving as a troop handler and pre-deployment instructor and training men who were bound for Vietnam, the workload began to take its toll on his family.

“It was long, hard work,” Sandle says. “We worked six-and-a-half days per week for 19 months straight. That’s why I ended up getting a divorce. I think I had seven days off in 19 months. But it was a job that had to be done.”

In 1970, when his wife finalized the divorce, Sandle signed a waiver to volunteer to go back to Vietnam. He served as company administration chief and platoon sergeant. When asked if he saw much action, Sandle says “not really” and “I saw enough” before revealing that, at one point, he inadvertently killed a 14-year-old native boy, who’d been holding a gun on him, and whom he meant to knock out with his weapon but accidentally shot.

“It’s not something I’m proud of,” Sandle says with genuine remorse.

Sandle was soon assigned to the 2nd Battalion 5th Marines, the most highly decorated battalion in the Marine Corps, and then to 1st Battalion 11th Marines, where he was promoted to Staff Sergeant. Soon after that he met his second wife, Kate, whom he married on Nov. 4 1972 – one day shy of his anniversary of joining the Marine Corps. In 1976 he was transferred to a Marine brigade in Hawaii, where he served as a casualty officer. In 1979 he transferred to Washington, D.C., where he worked closely with NATO and SEATO and where, he says, he was involved with the legislation of the Defense Officer Personnel Management Act (DOPMA), which stabilized officer manpower throughout the services.

He eventually ended up back at Camp Pendleton, where his duties included the out-processing and discharging of Marine Corps personnel. He says he discharged about 40,000 people in 3 years and devised a way to save $1.4 million in administration costs via simple things like reduced paperwork. He received a Navy Achievement Medal for his efforts.

Sandle retired in 1988, went to work for the now-defunct Globe Security in Philadelphia, and was then called back to active duty to serve in Desert Storm. When he was sent home once more, he worked for the Department of Agriculture, then a mortgage processing firm. He’d later work for a security company and postal service, but not before a pursuing a degree in criminal justice at Allentown College, which he’d have to forgo to take care of his dying mother and stepfather.

In 2003, Sandle split with his second wife, with whom he had a daughter, Kristen. In 2007, he remarried again, this time to Phyllis, whom he’s still with today. In the Marines, he says he learned the value of growing up in America, to respect people of all walks of life and, of course, helpfulness, work ethic and sacrifice.

“John F. Kennedy, when he was sworn in, stated, ‘Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country,’” says Sandle, who’s also commander of the Guardians of the Washington Crossing National Cemetery. “I have that on a plaque on my desk, followed up with the quote, ‘I can, I have and I will.’”

Sergeant served in Iraq after 26 years in National Guard.

By Matthew Fleishman, BucksLocalNews.com

A self-described “army brat,” Sgt. Steven Webb spent 26 years in the New Jersey National Guard before being deployed to Iraq in June 2008. That upbringing is what motivated him to join the National Guard in 1982, at age 18.

“I’m what’s called an army brat,” said Webb. “My dad was a career officer who retired, after 26 years, as a captain. We lived in several places around the country, and the army has always been in my family and my blood.

“It’s an honor and a pleasure being in the National Guard,” continued Webb. “Being in the National Guard has meant everything to me because not only do you have your military duties, but you have your civilian job and your responsibilities at home. It’s not just being part of the army, but also representing, protecting and defending New Jersey in times of trouble, like during floods and disasters.”

In the National Guard, Webb has been part of a combat engineer unit. Before his unit was deployed for Iraq, it was sent to Fort Bliss in Texas, which is where Webb sustained an injury that would not prevent him from going to Iraq, but would prevent him from staying there for his entire tour of duty.

“We were at Fort Bliss and were doing combative training, and I was trying to subdue someone larger than me, and I performed a move and injured my elbow and shoulder,” said Webb. “Nothing was broken so I was deployed to Iraq with the rest of my unit.”

While this deployment was something that Webb knew was possible from when he first entered the National Guard, his feelings were mixed.

“There were a lot of thoughts that came up,” said Webb. “First, this is what we trained for all of these years, and we would be putting all of our training and skills to the test. But there was also apprehension, too.

“The flight was 26 hours from Texas to Iraq,” continued Webb. “You kind of start thinking about the potential bad things and whether or not you have everything taken care of in case God forbid you don’t come back. Once we got there though, I thought about my crew and my missions, and I just had to put the thoughts about my family in the back.”

Once in Iraq, Webb’s unit was assigned to a cavalry unit, and he became a truck commander on a three-man crew. The crew would perform area security operations for eight to 12 hours at a time, looking for improvised explosive devices, clearing roads for convoys, or doing demolition work to create obstacles to prevent anyone from traveling on certain roads.

It was during these missions that Webb’s shoulder injury began to worsen.

“We would be out patrolling, looking for IEDs and working with locals around the base, but it got to the point where my shoulder started wearing down. I would come back at the end of the mission, pop some ibuprofen and be good for a few hours, but every day it would get worse.”

The injury continued getting worse until Oct. 29, 2008, when he felt a “snap” in his shoulder.
“I felt a snap in my shoulder,” said Webb. “I tried to suck it up and keep going, but when that happened I couldn’t move my arm.”

For Webb, the injury was a minor issue, but the thought of leaving his three-man crew was devastating.

“The worst part about being injured was not being with my crew,” said Webb. “I was the truck commander, and I was concerned about who would be taking care of my boys and watching their backs. Every stop along the way, I would tell the doctors to patch me up so I could get back to my guys.”

After being sent to Germany for treatment, it was determined that Webb’s injury was too severe for him to be sent back to Iraq, so he was sent to the Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, D.C., where he received additional treatment for his injured shoulder.

Currently, Webb is a fire inspector at Rutgers University and a volunteer firefighter with the Hopewell Fire Department. He proudly remains a member of the New Jersey National Guard.

Late Bristolian devoted many years of service.

‘Country Boy’ supervised gun repair during Battle of the Bulge.

By Petra Chesner Schlatter, BucksLocalNews.com


At 91, U.S. Army Master Sgt. Creed Palmer has a strong memory of being part of the invasion of Normandy and the subsequent Battle of the Bulge. By the time WWII ended, Palmer had reached the rank of master sergeant.

“I was in the ordinance company,” Palmer said, sitting at his kitchen table in Wrightstown Township. The Middletown Grange Fairgrounds back up to his small white house on Worthington Mill Road.

He is in good health. Surprisingly, he still helps to mow the yard.

Originally from North Carolina, Palmer graduated from the ninth grade. He and a friend, who was part Cherokee Native American, literally hitchhiked north, ending up at Bowman’s Tower in Washington Crossing, where his friend’s uncle lived. He was a full-blood Cherokee.

Palmer, who once was a hired farmhand at a nearby farm, had a book written about him: “The Life Story of a Country Boy.”

Being a farmhand, he worked to pay for food. “I made enough to eat,” he said.
“I went in the service,” Palmer said. “I figured that was better.”

In 1941, Palmer and his future brother-in-law, Leon Worthington, drove to Ft. Dix to enlist.
Getting to Europe was a long road for Palmer. From Ft. Dix, he was sent to points throughout the country for training. He went to Tennessee, Louisiana, Missouri and Arizona. They were tested in 20 degrees below zero and 120-degree heat.

He would take responsibility of 50 men, heading up a group who repaired guns. That meant working on everything from rifles to canons. His men worked on .50-calibre machine guns.
“I had charge of all the guns that needed to be fired,” Palmer said.

“We did everything on the big guns (cannons),” he noted. “We stripped them all the way down and then put everything back together. We tested, fired it and it went back into position. We pulled it with a big truck.”

Palmer remembered how he had to sign a paper, taking responsibility for repairing the guns. “That was my job,” he said. “We had to certify the weapon was done. If it wasn’t, I’d get in trouble.”

The trip overseas to Europe was long, with ships of men packed like sardines. The hammocks were hung one on top of each other. They slept in shifts. When he would later return home by ship, he had learned that sleeping on deck was the way to go.

“We landed in Ireland,” Palmer said. They went to little towns where they trained for six months. They went into the mountains and approached foxholes. “You’d crawl and they were shooting machine guns over you,” he recalled. “You literally had to keep down.

“We went from there to Normandy,” he said. “The Germans had everything fortified. The Americans had to establish a beachhead to make sure the Germans were back far enough to make sure the troops could get in.”

“We went in the second day of the invasion of Normandy,” Palmer continued. “That’s how we got started. We established the beachhead and kept right on going. We stopped once. We wound up in Le Havre. We stayed there two to three weeks. We cleared out Le Havre of Germans.

“Once we got them out, we traveled a lot of time,” he said. “We went up through France up into Luxembourg. We traveled from there and went into Germany. We were riding in vehicles and walking.”

The Germans bypassed Palmer’s company. “They went right by,” he said. “Some of their troops went around our flank. That’s when they had the Battle of the Bulge. We were surrounded for three days. Finally, our troops cleared us.”

They headed to the Rhine River. “After we crossed the river — that was it. The war was over,” he said.

“We came back and went into France and they said, ‘You can go home,’” Palmer said.
What stands out in his mind is how many of the towns were leveled in France. “They didn’t touch any churches,” he said of the Germans.

“The people (the French) were nice,” he said. “The people were glad we got there.”

Watching the German surrender was quite a sight to see, according to Palmer. “We just crossed the Rhine River,” he said. “All the German vehicles came. They surrendered. Seeing all the guys coming – they were glad to give up.”

Palmer said he felt great, too. “I can get out of here now,” he remembered thinking. He was discharged in 1945.

Upon returning home, Palmer worked for General Motors. Next, he was a clerk at the Newtown Hardware House on South State Street in Newtown, where he worked for three decades.
In town, Palmer gained a reputation for being able to fix anything that was brought into the store.