David C. Dolby

On Friday, August 6, David C. Dolby passed away suddenly in Spirit Lake , Idaho at the age of 64. Childless, Mr. Dolby had lived in virtual seclusion in the town of Barto , PA since the passing of his wife in 1997. Barto is so small and insignificant the Rand McNally Atlas doesn’t even list it in its appendix. Mr. Dolby’s passing went so unnoticed that even his hometown paper didn’t acknowledge it. His passing was announced by an organization to which he belonged. Evidently most felt Mr. Dolby’s death didn’t merit any notice at all and almost nobody gave it a thought. He apparently hadn’t done anything in his life to merit any special attention.

Three days later, on Monday, August 9, Steven Slater, a childish, immature loser who up until that day had pretty much gone as unnoticed as David Dolby, threw a temper tantrum on a Jet Blue airplane at John F. Kennedy airport because his personal pet peeve is luggage that shifts during flight (or maybe it was tray tables not being in their upright and locked position). Focused on such a newsworthy person as Slater, David C. Dolby didn’t get 30 seconds of airtime.

David’s was buried in Arlington Cemetery. It was a quiet ceremony with a small group of mourners. People who had the honor to know David.

What was the organization which publicized his death? Click here.

Read more about David here.

Army Sergeant David C.,Dolby on 21 MAY, 1966, was serving in the Republic of Vietnam as a specialist four with Company B, 1st Battalion (Airborne), 8th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile).

CITATION TO ACCOMPANY
THE AWARD OF
THE MEDAL F HONOR
TO
SERGEANT DAVID C DOLBY

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of life above and beyond the call of duty, when his platoon, while advancing tactically, suddenly came under intense fire from the enemy located on a ridge immediately to the front. Six members of the platoon were killed instantly and a number were wounded, including the platoon leader. Sgt. Dolby’s every move brought fire from the enemy. However, aware that the platoon leader was critically wounded, and that the platoon was in a precarious situation, Sgt. Dolby moved the wounded men to safety and deployed the remainder of the platoon to engage the enemy. Subsequently, his dying platoon leader ordered Sgt. Dolby to withdraw the forward elements to rejoin the platoon. Despite the continuing intense enemy fire and with utter disregard for his own safety, Sgt. Dolby positioned able-bodied men to cover the withdrawal of the forward elements, assisted the wounded to the new position, and he, alone, attacked enemy positions until his ammunition was expended. Replenishing his ammunition, he returned to the area of most intense action, single-handedly killed 3 enemy machine gunners and neutralized the enemy fire, thus enabling friendly elements on the flank to advance on the enemy redoubt. He defied the enemy fire to personally carry a seriously wounded soldier to safety where he could be treated and, returning to the forward area, he crawled through withering fire to within 50 meters of the enemy bunkers and threw smoke grenades to mark them for air strikes. Although repeatedly under fire at close range from enemy snipers and automatic weapons, Sgt. Dolby directed artillery fire on the enemy and succeeded in silencing several enemy weapons. He remained in his exposed location until his comrades had displaced to more secure positions. His actions of unsurpassed valor during 4 hours of intense combat were a source of inspiration to his entire company, contributed significantly to the success of the overall assault on the enemy position, and were directly responsible for saving the lives of a number of his fellow soldiers. Sgt. Dolby’s heroism was in the highest tradition of the U.S. Army.[10]

My Dad Fought in World War Two

Let me tell you about my Dad. He’s 90 years old today, in frail health and living his days out in a hospice.


The girl he married in 1945 visits him every day.

He roots for his Red Sox and Patriots. His room is filled with pictures of his grandchildren and family.

My Dad served in the Third Infantry Division in World War Two. Yes, the same Division that drove into Iraq. He served in the North African Campaign when the Americans got their hat handed to them by the Germans. He invaded Anzio to liberate that country. As the landing craft approached the beach, Dad was concerned. Being all of Five foot Four he hoped they would get to the shallows. The cox wain of the boat said he’d get them so close Dad wouldn’t get his feet wet. When Dad went off the end of the LCI he dropped into six feet of water. Weighted down with his equipment, he started to drown. Shedding his gear,he fought to the surface and SWAM ashore. So much for Naval support he thought.

The Anzio landings were uncontested. There were no horrific scenes that you see in “Saving Private Ryan”. There was nothing. Silence. The day was filled with unseen heroics such as my Dad, fighting for his life.

The Third Division consolidated and strengthened their beach head and waited for the German counter attack. When it came it was ferocious.

Dad was leading a platoon that day. During the fighting, Dad was shot in the leg. A German medic saw him and started to work his way over to Dad. His squad laid down a barrage aimed at the medic. Dad shouted, “Cease Fire! Let the sonuvabitch live! He’s trying to help me.”

The German got to Dad and dressed his wounds. Saving Dad’s life. Dad then took him prisoner. Confiscating the German’s helmet, knife and pistol.

Dad was evacuated to North Africa. In a MASH they put pins in his leg. Pins that still give him hell on a cold day. During the surgery some Rear Area Echelon Mother Fucker stole the stuff he “liberated” from the German medic.

Dad loves to watch “MASH”. He says they are just as crazy (and worse) as they are in the show. He was hit in Korea too and woke up strapped to the skid of one of those helicopters. WHILE IT WAS IN THE AIR!

My Uncle Louis died in Italy. My Uncle Vincent was sleeping in his rack when a Japanese torpedo went through his compartment. He was never right again.

When I was a kid I rifled his underwear drawer looking for porn. What I found was a little black box. In it were two Purple hearts and a Silver Star. I know how he got the Purple Hearts, but he never talks about winning the Silver Star. The only thing he said when I asked was;

“I was too stupid not to fall back when everyone else did.”

I don’t know if he won it that day at Anzio. Maybe he won it in Korea. He’s quiet on that point. I know he cries almost every night and STILL has nightmares.

He’s 90 years old.

He and his fellow Vets are living out their lives in silence. Their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren never knowing of their quiet heroics. I know he was pissed over Vietnam. I knew he was horrified to send his son to Desert Storm. “Keep your head down. Don’t be a hero and come home soon.”, he said to me.

When I did come home the VFW had put a giant yellow ribbon all the way around Dad’s house. He took me to the VFW. Surrounded by the old Vets each one came up offered a beer and said just about the same thing. “Here, now you’re one of us.” I wasn’t regaled with stories of jumping from airplanes. No stories of tanks destroyed or beaches stormed. Just stories of how sweet Life is.

Postscript- My Dad died on August 16, 2006. Five days after his 91st birthday. If you have a relative or a friend who is a WWII vet, go talk to them today. They are America’s Greatest Generation and they are disappearing fast. Thank them before it’s too late.

NEW FOR 2012