COLONEL KEN ELMENDORF

ONE GREAT MARINE

Ken Elmendorf was an outstanding Marine. A natural leader and motivator, he was a superb commander and a fine friend. Confident and aggressive, he put his troops at ease with humorous comments. He strutted and swaggered and thoroughly enjoyed leading his Marines, who likewise enjoyed his swashbuckling style of leadership. I served as Lt Colonel Elmendorf's Executive Officer in the mid 1980's, when he Commanded Marine Wing Communication Squadron – 48 (MWCS-48). He did a terrific job leading the Squadron, which was selected as the Squadron of the Year in large part because of his efforts. 

Ken commanded the Marine Wing Communication Squadron-48 at the Glenview Naval Air Station when he was still a Lieutenant Colonel. His first drill weekend was also the change of command for the Marine Air Control Group. Each Squadron marched in review before the incoming and outgoing regular Commander of the Group. Lt Colonel Elmendorf and the troops practiced until they were perfect. But there was a problem. The active duty officers did not like the large gold bracelet that the Colonel wore on his arm. They asked me to ask him to take it off. I did so. "Oh they want me to take off my bracelet, do they?” said Ken Elmendorf. “My wife NJ gave me this bracelet. I am going to wear it. To hell with them." And wear it he did, with the bracelet sliding up and down his arm as he raised and lowered his sword in the parade, strutting in front of his Squadron and the entire Marine Group.

Lieutenant Colonel Elmendorf assumed command of the unit at a time when the Squadron was suffering from a morale and attendance problem. Colonel Elmendorf seldom raised his voice, but just expressed confidence that his officers and Staff NCO's could solve the problem. And following his direction they did.

Colonel Elmendorf was famous for his ventriloquist dummy, Elmer. The troops loved to be entertained by the irreverent dummy. Elmer was dressed in a Lance Corporal Marine Dress Blue Uniform, with a very non-Marine like long hair cut. Elmer was salty and cocky and not afraid to insult anyone. He insulted senior officers, which was not politically correct, and a bad overall career move. Lt. Colonel Elmendorf always pointed out that it was not him but rather Elmer who was the wise ass culprit. LtCol Elmendorf also called the Executive Officer (Me) of the Squadron an asshole when the XO told Elmer to get a haircut. The troops loved that.

No one pushed the Dorf around. He was surrounded by aggressive and tough Chicago Marines, but he was the Bull Marine. He could dominate people with wit and humor and just a hint of good natured menace. And he thoroughly enjoyed doing it.

Colonel Elmendorf commanded a unit exercise at Cherry Point, North Carolina. It was one of the most difficult operations ever undertaken by the Squadron, with a large Naval Task force. Everything went badly. Communications were poor, and the top leadership lost their confidence. The morning briefings were embarrassing – downcast senior officers mumbling and shuffling and hoping things would get better. Into the fray charged Dorf. His Communication Squadron was just a small part of the exercise, but he started giving aggressive, dynamic, confident briefs. He took over the entire briefing and was the only positive and upbeat force in a defeated group. "Everything is coming around", said the Colonel. "It is all working now. Everything will work and work well." His briefing was not accurate – things were terrible – but his confidence and dynamism were contagious. Everyone became more confident. Things started to work. Lt. Colonel Elmendorf's leadership and positive attitude were contagious, and the situation turned around and the exercise became a success.

Another Lt. Colonel, a pilot and commander, was bad mouthing our unit and its performance. Word got back to Elmendorf. "I am going to hunt him down and kill him" said Dorf. I did not know Ken well at that point – I thought his comments were just braggadocio. Dorf met with the officer and then reported back that he had threatened him and reported that the officer would cease to criticize us. And he did. It was not until the next year that I met the infamous Marine Officer in California. He said, "Your boss is Lt. Colonel Elemdorf? I thought he was going to kill me. He is huge guy, and he was really pissed off. I thought I would not get out of there alive". After this our unit began to call Ken Attila-Dorf, or just Dorf for short.

Dorf took care of his troops and they took care of him. He made sure they worked hard, but also made sure that they had fun on liberty. He worked hard to ensure that all members of the unit got along. And he did not let any outsiders harass his troops. He liked to refer to his twelve Marine Officers as the "Dirty Dozen". He led a number of legendary escapades that involved doing unseemly things to and on the Admirals Cannon with some of his Dirty Dozen.

Dorf did not talk much about his experiences as a Lieutenant in AMTRACs in Vietnam where he earned a Purple Heart and Bronze Star, but he did tell us a few humorous war stories. His favorite was when he survived a near miss in the field and noted to his Commanding Officer that "I could have been killed out there." Dorf reported that the Colonel dryly commented that, "Well, Lieutenant, there is a war going on, you know."

As a young Lieutenant he commanded an AMTRAC Platoon in Vietnam, and spent considerable time on patrols. Dorf was wounded when the AMTRAC (Amphibious Tractor) he was commanding was destroyed in combat.

Colonel Elmendorf had a safe, draft deferred job, but gave that up to become a Marine. He was always proud of that decision.

Dorf was proud of his sons and his beautiful wife, NJ.  He talked about them a great deal, and was very proud of all of them. He told us that his wife was a camp follower and enjoyed bringing his family to training exercises. He was also happy to take his family to Annapolis when he returned to active duty to teach at Annapolis, to give them a look at the wider world.

Colonel Elmendorf was an outstanding Marine, a great Commander and a fine friend. He is remembered and missed by all his Marine Comrades.

Semper Fi,

Colonel Craig Hullinger

__________________

On 7/6/05, NJ (Mrs. Ken) Elmendorf wrote:

Wow, what a nice gesture. I received your letter and promptly sent it to Brett, Dirk and Beth for Father's Day. Thanks loads! We have lots of memories and laughs and fully recognize your "tales" of the swarthy Marine who made life better for us all.

We can hardly believe that it is more than six years since Ken left  us......the boys have truly grown up and the grandson who was not quite six months is now six years old and coming to stay with us for a week at  "The Big E Ranch" for "camp" with another six year old named Jack.

The grandson - Grant, has his room decorated in military colors and attire, so maybe he'll grow up to be more like Grandpa. He has the personality to handle "Elmer Duff", so we're watching to see how it goes. So far he's a storyteller and jokester.

No we don't really live on a ranch, but in a house in town.....we got it in 2000 but this was my first full winter here as I hadn't sold out of Indiana until last Aug. Several years ago I had some friends visit from Indiana and they thought everyone who lived in Texas had a ranch so we

decided to oblidge them.......it's an Elmendorf thing I guess....

Anyway, we have guest rooms so you are welcome to show up anytime you come this way...it's a great place to live or visit. We're 10 minutes from the airport.

Dirk came here to college and stayed and started a business (Rackspace Managed Hosting) with two friends, then got some investors, hired his brother Brett, began the process to go public, backed off before the dot com crash, and now they have 600 employees. I had planned to have us retire here, so looks like I got my wish......we are happy here. Dirk will be getting married next April 8th to Annie and setting up his home here.

Brett and I live in the same house, so far so good, we have a deal to give each other 6 months notice if our lives change.....so far nothing on the horizon.

I hope you and Beth are well and are enjoying the fruits of your labor  with your family.

Thanks again for sharing with us.

Semper Fi

NJ

* No corrections other than NJ never has dots......that was my 40th birthday present from Ken to go to court and become NJ no dots so computers would accept my name as they wouldn't initials.....it's an Elmendorf thing.....

___________________

Dear NJ

I am glad you enjoyed the letter. Dorf was a super guy, and I always wanted to write it.

And he very much loved you and the boys.

Glad that you and your family are doing well.

Semper Fi,

Craig Hullinger

_____________________

Attached is a copy of a brief essay I wrote describing the day Lt. Elmendorf’s Amtrac hit the mine in Vietnam.  It’s part of a larger series of small essays I wrote at the request of my two sons.  It’s entitled The Day I Grew Up because that is literally what happened.  It changed me as a person and Lt. Elmendorf was a part of that change.

Regardless of his eventual rank he will always be “Lt. Elmendorf” to me.  He was, and remains in my life, one of the finest men I ever met and a role model for supreme leadership.  He replaced our previous Lieutenant, who was a prime example of just the opposite.  Lt. Lynch was everything wrong in Marine leadership at the time when young officers, with limited maturity and training, were being rushed into the Vietnam theater.  After Lynch was pulled back to Danang for his own safety we had a period where our Gunny, another incredible example of Marine leadership, was in charge.

We were all nervous when we heard our new lieutenant would be showing up.  He was choppered in by a Marine UH34.  I remember him throwing his seabag out in our landing zone even before the chopper hit the ground.  He immediately called us in to introduce himself.  He was a family man.  As I recall he had some sort of engineering education and worked for a large manufacturing company in the states.  He joined the Marines and went to Officer’s Candidate School because he wanted to serve his country in Vietnam.  He was like a breath of fresh air.  He introduced himself as Ken Elmendorf.  Unlike his predecessor, he respected our knowledge of our tractors and encouraged us to follow our own judgement regarding maintenance priorities.  He was always anxious to lead and learn, and never let any patrol go out without being a part of it.  He would jump off a returning patrol and jump on another as it was leaving.  Again, unlike our other lieutenant who rode on the last tractor “so he could monitor the column”, he always rode on the lead tractor, regardless of the risk; it was that risk that resulted in his tractor hitting the mine.  We loved him.  It wasn’t until recently I learned later he remained in the Corps after Vietnam and retired as one of its most respected and admired officers.

I hope this is something you will find of value and interest.  Please share it with Lt. Elmendorf’s family and let them know what a difference he made in the lives of those who served under his command.

Be well and stay safe.  Please let me know if there is anything else I can contribute.

Wes Hamilton

360-791-7484

wwhamilton@comcast.net

______________

The Day I Grew Up

The day I grew up was the day I remember the most detail. Ironically, it coincides with

another memorable event sharing the same date many years later; my youngest son’s

birth fifteen years later. It was April 2, 1967. I was also six months to the day into my

19th year. I had only been a Lance Corporal for a short time and had only recently been

made crew chief on my Amtrac.

We were assigned a regular patrol to take supplies and mail from An Hoa to the Liberty

Bridge outpost at Phu Loc 6. There were only two tractors. Our new lieutenant, Lt.

Elmendorf, was riding on the lead tractor; it was a brand new tractor and this was a test

run to make sure everything was working as it should. I was covering the rear.

It usually took a couple hours to make the Phu Loc 6 run. It was open road and we

were able to cruise about 30 MPH. As I noted before, the vegetation along the way

used to be tall and close making it really hard to see around bends in the road. It also

provided great hiding places for snipers and ambushes. By this time, however,

everything had died away up to 100 yards on both side of the road (see “Agent

Orange”). A mine clearing unit had run the road ahead of us early that morning so we

felt confident the road was clear.

We made it to Pho Lac 6, dropped off the supplies and the grunts who rode shotgun

with us; they were replacements for the company manning Liberty Bridge security. We

picked up several VC prisoners and the grunts being relieved by the replacements. No

one liked riding inside the Amtracs; they carried 480 gallons of high-octane gas in the

belly where the armor was weakest. The prisoners were placed inside, in the belly of the

tractor. Unfortunately, we needed at least one grunt inside to guard the prisoners. I

suspect they picked the person with the least time in country; the FNG.

We were probably less than 20 minutes into the return run back to An Hoa. The lead

tractor was about 40 yards ahead of me and had just cleared a slight rise in the road so

we couldn’t see it. Suddenly, there was a loud explosion and all we saw was a cloud of

smoke and debris. When we reached the crest of the hill we saw the Amtrac with a

huge hole in the starboard side. I couldn’t see the crew. The grunts riding on top had

been blown free and were laying or staggering all around.

At that very instant, I became the senior person in charge; I was a Lance Corporal

Amtrac Crew-chief, with less than a year in the Marines. The lieutenant and everyone

on the lead tractor were dead, wounded, and, at a minimum, suffering from a

concussion and blown eardrums. I didn’t have time to think; everything was automatic.

We started receiving incoming sniper fire from the tree line on both sides. I ordered

our gunner to spray the tree lines with suppression fire. I had our driver drop our ramp

and give medical support to the injured. I directed the senior grunt riding on our tractor

to organize a defensive perimeter and help my driver deal with injured.

I have always loved map reading. I studied our map and figured out our exact position. I

got on the radio and informed our command of the situation. I asked for a helicopter

Medivac and put in an urgent request for artillery targeting the tree line between us and

An Hoa (it’s sometimes risky to call in Arty over your head). All of this happened in

about a minute, but it seemed like it lasted for hours.

I was ordered to stay on my tractor and stay on the radio, which was the most

frustrating thing I can remember. I wanted to be out there helping people, but I was

stuck just having to watch; I felt helpless and useless. There was a bomb crater in the

rice paddy just a few yards off the side of the road near the blasted Amtrac. Most of the

injured grunts were moved into the crater. Those that could were directing return fire to

the tree line. I moved to the driver’s seat to be ready to take control of my Amtrac. I

had the grunt riding in my tractor bring the VC captives out and lay them on the ground

next to my tractor so I could guard them and he could go help take care of his brothers.

We had two VC prisoners on my tractor. One was older and one was a kid; probably

not more than 13 years old. One memory seared into my brain was when the kid stood

up below my hatch next to the Amtrac and asked for water. I was reaching down to

hand him a canteen and he took a sniper bullet straight through his chest. The look on

his face will haunt me forever; his smile, seeing the canteen, dissolved into surprise and

then a questioning, “why” look. He died instantly. It didn’t even occur to me at the time

the round hit only a short distance from me, and I could have been as easy a target; it

was my gunner that brought it to my attention. I guess I was too stunned to think about

it. I had never seen anyone die like that before.

It was not long after I put in the request we got the artillery support we needed. From

our location to An Hoa, the 105 mm battery was only about 5 miles as the crow flies. It

was awesome to hear the artillery rounds being fired, and I remember being anxious as

hell hoping I gave them correct coordinates. It was amazing seeing the first rounds hit

exactly where I wanted them; it was perfect. It was like a seeing a beautiful blossom

open up, first with the white billows of Willy Peter (white phosphorous) and then the

eruption of earthen brown and vegetation green, I had them drop about a dozen rounds

and the sniper fire stopped.

I found out the lieutenant was alive, but seriously injured. Most of the grunts on top

were literally blown off the Amtrac by concussion. All were dealing with concussion and

blown eardrums, but some also had broken bones and related injuries. One Marine

inside the Amtrac was killed in the blast, along with the captives he was guarding. All

told, we had about a dozen Marines with some form of injury and four, including the

lieutenant, needing urgent evacuation.

It only took a half hour or so before a column of Amtracs came out from An Hoa to get

us. The gunny took charge and arranged for a way to tow the mined Amtrac back to An

Hoa. A UH34 helicopter dropped in nearby to Medivac the lieutenant and other

seriously injured. The remaining injured and the dead were loaded into or on top of my

tractor or other Amtracs that came to meet us.

I remember we got back just before dusk. We got the wounded to the field hospital at

An Hoa. After that everyone was busy taking care of their equipment. The gunny had

to report to battalion every detail of the event. It was like nothing happened, it was all

back to normal. Business as usual. Another day in fantasyland. My biggest regret was

not getting any feedback; not a word. Everything I did was instinctual. Some of it was

training, but most of it was just doing what seemed natural. I have never known if what I

did was right or what was expected. That silence has troubled me much of my life.

Follow-up

Several years ago, I did receive some of the feedback I was missing. I think it was

through Facebook. I had posted a search on a Vietnam Vets search using my nick

name “Baron”. I got a message from someone on Messenger asking me if I was the

Baron that crewed the Honcho Hog at An Hoa. It turned out to be one of the grunts

riding on the lead tractor that hit the mine. His name is Roger McDowell and he lives in

West Virginia. His eardrums were blown out from the concussion of the blast. He

remembered me and my Amtrac because we were the ones that took him back to An

Hoa with some of the other less seriously wounded.

We have corresponded a lot since then and message each other to celebrate most

holidays and, of course, the Marine Corps Birthday. It brought me to tears for him to

confirm many of my memories of the day and for him to thank me for saving his life. I

had never thought of it that way, but he said he’s sure my action setting up a defensive

perimeter and efforts, including artillery, to suppress the incoming sniper fire saved lives

including his. He said, without that help he and the others, who were so disoriented

from the blast, would have been easy targets. He and I have both tried to find others

who were there, but we haven’t had any luck.

I mentioned our new Lieutenant, and how we respected him so much. As I said, he was

one of those seriously injured who were Medivaced back to the hospital in Danang. We were all worried, and didn’t expect to see him for a while. It turns out, he self - discharged from the hospital about a day later, against doctor’s orders, and caught a chopper back to our unit. He was wounded twice more, receiving three Purple Hearts.

That’s the leader he was; our respect for him could not have grown any higher. It was

an honor to serve under his command.