During 2002, Warriors of Hill 881 South, in conjunction with Battlefield Expeditions informed me, and other retired Marines, of a return trip to Vietnam during April 2003.  Initially I was very excited about possibly returning to the country that had generated so many unanswered questions for me.  Yes, everyday since 1968, I have given some thoughts regarding my Vietnam experience, the war and its particulars.

After the medical evaluations, travel documentation and cost requirements were in order, I began to understand the realization of the upcoming trip.  I experienced a tremendous since of euphoria!  A dream was becoming a reality.  However as the time of departure quickly approached, my joyful attitude swiftly changed to a sense of fear, uncertainty and concerns.  I realized that I had become a little apprehensive about the trip, wondering how the 13 of us (four were former Warriors of Hill 881S) would be accepted by the people, their government and of course, the military personnel of Vietnam.

The day of departure to Vietnam finally arrived.  For me, boarding the flight was not uneventful.  After sitting in my seat, I noticed the flight number on my Cathe Pacific boarding pass. Wow! The flight number was 881.  My fears returned, worrying about some Evil Faith raising its head and controlling this adventure.  A flight attendant noticed my demeanor, I guess. She stopped and asks me if I was OK. I informed her of our trip and our history. She understood my concerns and kindly informed me that Hill 881 and the Flight Number 881 was just a coincident. 

We finally arrived in Vietnam. The people were grand and courteous which settled my fears. There were many places we visited i.e. Hanoi, U.S. Embassy (Marine House), Danang, Dong Ha, Phu Bai, Gio Linh, Quang Tri, Con Thien, DMZ, Hue City, Rock Pile, Razor Back, Long Vei, Khe Sanh, Camp Carrol, etc., and of course Hill 881 South.

The Morning of the 5th of April, we prepared to hump up 881 South.  Approximately 3 to 4 hours up and what appeared to be 45 minutes down.  However, while on top we roamed the hill. Though the hill was bare, I ventured to the areas of great concern to me, i.e. my bunker location (where I received the wounds), the LZ where my Marine friend with blonde hair and blue eyes was facially wounded by mortar shrapnel (see The Forgotten Helmet), the 105mm Howitzer gun pit where another friend, Cpl. Delbert L. Leasure, was mortally wounded and the area of the chopper's crash landing from the mortar attack.  As I continued to roam the hill, I experienced no sense of elation or depression.  I could not explain it! No real feelings whatsoever. 

A couple of hours later, Bill Stillwagen (Tour Leader) announced that it was time to leave Hill 881 South.  At that particular moment, reason unknown to me, I fell to my knees and begin to cry uncontrollably.  I could not explain the desire to remain on the Hill, my emotions were enormous.  The tears continued to flow unabated. Eventually, with someone's assistant, I was able to stand and proceed down the hill.  In conclusion, during that dreadful evening during 1968, when the mortar entered the FDC Bunker, God had decided to spare my life.  However, 5 April 2003, deep inside of me, I knew, during 1968, I was supposed to have died on Hill 881 South. 

Tom "Skipper" Esslinger .	Jody "The Negotiator" Hawkins .
Owen "Map Reader" Matthews .	Gary L. "TC" Riley .

I carried two identical shirts to the one shown below during the climb that were later presented to Forrest Leasure and Norbert Leasure, brothers of my friend Cpl. Delbert L. Leasure who was mortally wounded on the hill.

The other Marines and Navy Corpsmen who lost their lives defending Hill 881S were also remembered and honored.  Tom Esslinger made some short commemorative remarks, lead a short prayer and left this laminated memorial on the hill.