Grunt—Gunner—Sage—Brother—Friend…..

“There are 8 million stories in the ‘Naked City'”.  Illuminating aspects of a man’s life, whose selflessness knew no trepidation or constraint, is chronicled in the accompanying story.

Approximately 45 years ago, I had the honor and privilege to meet an extraordinary human being.

This “Door Gunner” manned the machine gun affixed to the helicopters we frequented, while assigned to a combat zone within Southeast Asia’s ‘theater of operations’.

As we exited these choppers, the gunner directed fire at enemy soldiers attempting to pick us off.  During these vulnerable moments, there was a concentrated effort put forth by our adversaries to destroy the chopper, its crew and the Marines on-board.

I had been assigned to a Battalion of United States Marines, that served as a ‘reactionary unit’ in The Republic of Vietnam.

When ‘allied troops’ made contact with an overwhelming hostile  force, we were flown into the fight.

As our unit waited to be called  upon to reinforce a position, we ran combat patrols and set up night ambushes, while living in some of the villages and hamlets within our Area of Operation. The Vietnamese civilians valued the safety, protection and support garnered by our presence.

On a regular basis, my battalion engaged in extended combat operations with Marines from other nations.

It was during this time that I became familiar with Private First Class Robert Axberg (Door Gunner). He was an intelligent, skilled and focused Marine. There was an energy emanating from  him, which conveyed respect and reverence towards the colleagues  he  transported into battle. For many, it would be the last bit of comfort they would experience.

As alluded to, PFC Axberg provided protection for the aircraft and men  on-board. Once hitting a Landing Zone, he would regularly go ‘beyond the call’ of duty, accentuating himself as an attractive target, attempting to divert the convergence of ‘fire power’ directed at the Marines disembarking from the chopper.

He gave everything he had to protect our lives and insure ‘Mission Success’.

En route to our destination, the views were often spectacular. Some of us sat in the doorway with our legs dangling  from the chopper, as we took in the panoramic beauty encompassing  a  country, where death and destruction and become the norm. Such a contradiction in realities and emotion.

Flying into battle in ‘Korean War Era’ papier-mâché type of helicopters, was a cause of alarm and consternation.

As we neared the action, dodging  hostile fire, we matched the terrain features with our grid coordinates, re-checking our  readiness to enter the fight.

Robert’s presence inspired and reassured us on our rides into the unknown.

Initially, when we first started these types of assaults into battle,  our greatest fear was being shot in our genitals. On the way to the fight, we often sat on our flak jackets hoping to avoid a damaging wound, an injury that we couldn’t bear the thought of. At 18 years of age, we calculated our concerns.

Hitting a hot LZ in a small helicopter packed with Marines and their combat gear, while coordinating the replacement of our flak jackets, before jumping out of the aircraft, as we simultaneously targeted the threats on the ground, was  counterintuitive.

Advanced and proficient warriors that we were, we figured it out.  Improvising, adapting and overcoming; we abandoned sitting on our flak jackets, upgrading the ride and ease of our departure from the copter, by sitting on our helmets.

Although the ‘survivability science’ behind these decisions was absent, in our minds, it prioritized which ‘head’ needed the most protection….

Exposure to flight and battlefield realities, quickly matured and perfected our entry into these  skirmishes, as we abandoned the frivolity of our prior concerns and action.

Robert’s steady hand, confidence and determination to safely arrive at our destination, positively impacted everyone on-board.

Of course, our pilots were absolutely brilliant, however, they were obscured from the immediacy of the moment as we entered the fray.

Wounded and dying Marines were regularly Medivacked via helicopters. On numerous occasions, Robert was a part of the crew partaking in these duties.

Extraordinary bravery was consistently exhibited by the Marines assigned to these undertakings. During combat, even while the prospective landing zones were still under fire, they always managed to arrive and rescue their comrades.

Frequently they were accompanied by ‘helicopter gun ships’, so as to provide optimal cover and mission success.

Nighttime Medivac operations in the midst of a hostile encounter near the Laotian border, provided a degree of risk and uncertainty for those sent to pick up the gravely  wounded.

Robert’s console and reassurance to the seriously injured Marines loaded onto his aircraft provided them with some relief and hope.

He tenaciously rendered first aid, while intermittently returning fire upon those determined to extinguish their lives.

After the war, while living in Miami I ran into Robert. I learned that he had been wounded  and promoted to a Non-Commissioned Officer.

He was struggling on a couple of fronts. As he worked through some difficult issues, I spent a lot of time with him. He was an inspiration and mentor to many.

As we gradually assimilated back into civilian life, Robert Axberg  utilized his GI Bill, earning a Bachelor’s Degree and 3 separate Master’s  Degrees.

As he was undergoing chemotherapy for pancreatic cancer towards the end of his life, Robert adorned a cap and gown and laboriously proceeded to the auditorium stage, where he was presented with his Ph.D.

The joy and pride of his accomplishments were short-lived, as Dr. Robert Axberg soon succumbed to this debilitating disease.

I’ve become aware that  Robert was awarded 9 Air Medals from the President of the United States, for his ‘Meritorious Achievement’ under fire.

Recently, I was called upon by his widow to spare her from being put out into the street. It appears that during Robert’s  4 years of battling his disease, he and his wife fell behind with their finances.

The institution they owe money to, is proceeding with a foreclosure on the widow’s  modest home in Key Largo.

Robert’s wife, the women who cared for him in every way imaginable over the last 4 years of his life, is about to be put out of the only home she’s ever known.

I’m attempting to put a plan of action together, so as to spare the unthinkable. However, progress has been slow. At the moment, I’ve done all that I can do to stall the foreclosure process, so that we might build up the reserves necessary to place this case in the hands of a competent  defense attorney.

I’ve taken it upon myself to bring Robert’s story and his widow’s dilemma to the attention of ‘The Blue Paper’s readers.

We’ve gathered and appropriately assembled all of the paperwork related to this ‘foreclosure summons’, however, we need an attorney to study the problem and formulate a solution.

As has been described, Robert was humble, quiet, selfless and courageous. He rarely thought of himself, his focus of intention had been on lightening the load of others, wherever they may be.

If you would care to assist, in some small way, as we attempt to set up a ‘defense fund’ for this widow, please contact me.

Perhaps using my ‘column’ to make this type of appeal is inappropriate and in poor taste. However, the alternative is to stand idly by, as this disabled women is cast aside, discarded into the realm of ‘homelessness’. If I’ve offended anyone, I ask your forgiveness and understanding.

 An account is being set up to help this ‘Wounded Warrior Widow’ keep her home. If you’re inclined to make a donation, you can make a check out to “Mary S.  Axberg”. Your  contribution can be mailed as follows:

Mary S. Axberg

C/O John Donnelly

P.O. Box 594

Key Largo, FL 33037

Along with your generosity, perhaps directing a positive thought, vibration or prayer Mrs. Axberg’s way, will put her over the top… Thank you.

Blessings & Respect….

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