[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 157 (2011), Part 14]
[Senate]
[Pages 19814-19815]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                        TRIBUTE TO LEO F. WEDDLE

  Mr. McCONNELL. Mr. President, I stand today to honor an exemplary 
Kentuckian and patriot, Mr. Leo F. Weddle of Somerset, KY. Mr. Weddle 
is a veteran of the Korean war; he selflessly served our Nation as a 
machine-gunner during that conflict.
  In 1950, just 3 years after graduating high school, Leo decided to 
enlist in the Marines, an idea he had already given considerable 
thought to. Leo was inspired one day by the obvious pride and glamour 
that was exhibited by a young marine in uniform whom Leo saw from the 
window of his Greyhound bus as Leo was traveling home to Somerset, KY, 
from his sister's house in Beaumont, TX. It was at that exact moment, 
somewhere in a small Arkansas town, that Leo decided to enlist to serve 
his country.
  After his introduction into the Marine Corps, Leo spent the next 
several months enduring the rigors of boot camp in Parris Island, SC, 
and combat training at Camp Pendleton in Oceanside, CA. When combat 
training concluded, Leo and his unit boarded the troopship USS General 
William Weigel. Leo's unit eventually landed in Yokuska, Japan, after 2 
weeks at sea.
  On June 5, 1951, the day Leo arrived in Korea, he was immediately 
transported to the front line for combat, where he joined George 
Company, 3rd Battalion, 1st Marine Division, later nicknamed ``Bloody 
George.'' Leo's unit was under heavy fire from the moment he arrived. 
``They had just lost a machine gunner and were asking for a 
volunteer,'' he said. ``Fools really do rush in where angels fear to 
tread, and I volunteered for the position. I served as a machine gunner 
for the duration of my time in Korea.''
  On September 21, 1951, Leo was wounded by a mortar that killed two 
officers and six enlisted men. Ironically, to Leo, the shell exploded 
closer to him than any other person, but the shrapnel propelled from it 
that hit him only left small pieces of metal in his legs and head. 
Those farther away were hit with larger pieces of metal that inflicted 
more severe, even fatal injuries. Six decades later, Leo still has 
fragments of the mortar in has legs and forehead.
  Today at 77 years of age, Leo feels blessed to be able to look back 
on his wartime experiences as a veteran who has since lead a healthy 
and successful life. ``I recall vividly many images of the horrors of 
war,'' Leo says, ``but I also remember my fellow Marines, courageous 
young men with whom I shared the most intense life-and-death 
experiences most of us would ever face.''
  Leo was so inspired by these experiences that he wrote a poem while 
he was still in Korea to help him share the love and appreciation for 
America he felt half a world away. Leo believes he may never have had 
the opportunity to truly express these feelings had he not had the 
opportunity to serve his country in battle as he did.
  Mr. President, I would ask that my Senate colleagues join me in 
thanking Mr. Leo F. Weddle, a valiant Kentucky veteran, for his courage 
and selflessness in fighting to preserve our country's freedom. Mr. 
Weddle is an honorable man whose sacrifice and lifelong success serve 
as an inspiration to the people of our great Commonwealth. The 
Commonwealth Journal, a Somerset-area publication, recently published 
an article written by Mr. Weddle recounting his time as a U.S. marine. 
I ask unanimous consent that the full article be printed in the Record.
  There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

           [From the Commonwealth Journal, November 11, 2011]

                          A Veteran Remembers

                           (By Leo F. Weddle)

       In 1950, three years after my high-school graduation, the 
     Korean War was under way and I had given considerable thought 
     to joining the service. One beautiful autumn day I was riding 
     a Greyhound bus from my sister's home in Beaumont, Texas, to 
     my hometown of Somerset, KY.
       Somewhere along the way, in a small town in Arkansas, I saw 
     from the window a young Marine, resplendent in his dress blue 
     uniform. The glamour of that uniform and the obvious pride of 
     the man wearing it captivated me. At that moment I decided to 
     volunteer for the Marines, and I did so as soon as I arrived 
     in Somerset.
       After my introduction into the Marine Corps, I endured 
     weeks of stress and intimidation in boot camp at Parris 
     Island, South Carolina, followed by combat training at Camp 
     Pendleton in Oceanside, California. After completing my 
     training, my unit boarded a troopship, the USS General 
     William Weigel, and after two weeks at sea, we landed in 
     Yokuska, Japan.
       On June 5, 1951, I arrived in Korea and became a member of 
     George Company, 3rd Battalion, 1st Marine Division, later 
     nicknamed ``Bloody George.'' The day I arrived, I was 
     transported to the front line and immediately entered combat. 
     My unit was under heavy fire. They had just lost a machine 
     gunner and were asking for a volunteer. Fools really do rush 
     in where angels fear to tread, and I volunteered for the 
     position. I served as a machine gunner for the duration of my 
     time in Korea.
       Minutes after I arrived on the line, a mortar shell hit a 
     few feet from me. Luckily, it turned out to be a dud. If it 
     had exploded, I would almost certainly have been killed on my 
     first day of battle. As it was, I was wounded by another 
     mortar a few months later, on September 21, 1951. We were on 
     Hill 751, which came to be known as ``Starvation Hill.''
       For three days and three nights, the fighting was so 
     intense that our Korean supply carriers could only bring 
     ammunition. Food was a lower priority in this situation than 
     the much-needed ammo, so we had to make do with what we had 
     until the shelling diminished.
       A friend of mine was hit, and I climbed out of my foxhole 
     to help him. While I was out of the foxhole, a mortar shell 
     came in. It killed two officers and wounded six enlisted men. 
     The irony of the situation was that the mortar landed closer 
     to me than to anyone else, but the explosion propelled 
     shrapnel that embedded only small pieces of metal in my legs 
     and head, while dispersing larger pieces to the men who were 
     killed or more seriously wounded.
       The mind is a strange and wonderful thing. If I close my 
     eyes, even to this day, I can still see the dirt, debris and 
     shrapnel exploding as clearly as I could at the moment it 
     happened. Fifty-five years later, I still have small 
     fragments of that mortar in my legs and forehead. During the 
     months that I served in Korea, I saw great acts of courage by 
     my fellow Marines as they dealt with the brutality and mayhem 
     of war. I came to realize that heroism often involves 
     reacting to a situation in a way that seems to be most 
     expedient at a given moment.
       I recall many images of the horrors of war, of course, but 
     I also remember my fellow Marines, courageous young men with 
     whom I shared the most intense life-and-death experiences 
     most of us would ever face.

[[Page 19815]]

       While I was still in combat in Korea, I wrote the following 
     poem. My experiences there gave me a love and appreciation 
     for America that I might never have been able to express had 
     I not had the opportunity to serve my country in this way.
       Today I am 77 years old and looking back on my own wartime 
     experiences from the vantage point of a healthy and 
     successful life. I hear the stories of today's young Marines 
     who are risking their bodies and lives for the same 
     principles that motivated me and my comrades in Korea so many 
     years ago. For any soldier or Marine who serves his country 
     in time of any war, I believe this poem expresses the love 
     and pride that he feels for his homeland, the United States.

                           Mr. You and Mr. Me

     What is America? I ask myself,
     It is happiness, contentment, success and wealth,
     With a touch of hardship, dirt and grime,
     Mixed together with work and time,
     Is Mr. You or Mr. Me?

     America is a sweetheart, modest and dear,
     It's high school and college, or a cheerleader's cheer.
     It's a bright hello or a sad good-bye,
     It's all these things and much more too,
     That go into making the Red, White and Blue.

     America is football, baseball and track,
     Or just a little afternoon snack.
     It's a drive in the country, a walk into town,
     or just a policeman making his round.
     It's a chocolate sundae or a picture show
     That forms the pattern of this land we know.

     It's Mom and Dad--Sister too,
     And a little brother, or me and you.
     It's Brooklyn and Jersey, the Dodgers and Phils,
     Or a beautiful river with valleys and hills.
     But it takes these things and the heavens above
     To make our America, the land we love.

     It's barefoot boys who skip school for fishing,
     And pigtailed girls who tag along, wishing.
     It's the old and the young, the brave and the true,
     But mostly America is made up of you.
     It's what you believe and what you can see
     That count in this land of democracy.

     The names of Washington, Lincoln and Jones,
     The Tom Smiths, Dick Phillips, and Harry Malones
     Are parts of America we see every day
     As we walk along its crowded highway.
     Yes, all of these things we daily see,
     Until they are a part of you and me.

     America is brown, yellow and white,
     With a touch of red, it's quite a sight,
     For we are a mixture from many lands
     Who believe in liberty and freedom's stands,
     And we back up this faith with blood and tears
     Shed by patriots throughout the years.

     It's soldiers, sailors, pilots, Marines,
     Who make up our nation's fighting machines.
     It's ``blood and guts'' when the time demands,
     For freedom's cause we take our stands.
     It's all America, just one big show,
     Of the things we do and the things we know.

     It's our faith in God to do His will,
     Our belief that we have His protection still,
     That makes America strong and free,
     It's a wonderful place for you and me.
     And though many places our feet may roam,
     May they safely return us to our home,
     America.

     

                          ____________________