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PFC JAMES E. MALONE
US ARMY

James Edgar Malone was born 3 October, 1946, in McKinney, Texas. In 1966, James joined the Army, and like his dad in World War II, became a paratrooper. On Thursday, 14 December, 1967, PFC James Malone, arrived for his twelve-month tour of duty as part of one of the most famous units in the US Army, the 101st Airborne Division, better known as the "Screaming Eagles." His unit, Delta Co. 1st Bn. 501st Inf. Reg. 2nd Brigade, were sent to an area near Saigon, and shortly after moved north to LZ Jane, just south of the DMZ. The '68 Tet Offensive, initiated by the North Vietnamese, began on the morning of 1 February, 1968.  James' unit was involved in heavy combat from the beginning. On the afternoon of 3 February, fifty-one days after arriving in Vietnam, PFC James Malone was shot by enemy rifle fire. He died on the battlefield and was awarded the Bronze Star for Bravery in Combat. James was 21 years old, and is buried at Williams/Mount Olive Cemetery in McKinney. He is listed at Panel 34E, Row 10 on the WALL.

Awards Listed:
BRONZE STAR
PURPLE HEART
COMBAT INFANTRYMAN'S BADGE
GOOD CONDUCT MEDAL
NATIONAL DEFENSE SERVICE MEDAL
VIETNAM SERVICE MEDAL
VIETNAM CAMPAIGN RIBBON
MILITARY MERIT MEDAL
GALLANTRY CROSS with PALM 
SHARPSHOOTER BADGE with RIFLE and MACHINE GUN BARS

Don't you know he hated the suit. 1st grade Elementary School Jr. High
High School James Dean had nothing on James Malone. Just before the haircut. Pvt. Malone, after the haircut
Looking a little Salty. Jump School at Ft. Benning Screaming Eagles Vietnam, ready for a days in the bush.
3, Feb. 1968 James' unit, taking a break. The first casualty, James Malone Reflecting on their first loss.
  Bronze Star for Bravery Purple Heart Memories of a Hero
   
  Williams-Mt. Olive Cemetery in McKinney Warren Chan, close friend of James.  

 

On 8 April, 2009, the webmaster at CCFreedom Fighters received this email:

I WAS JAMES MALONE'S SQUAD LEADER.  HE WAS MY BEST FRIEND IN THE 101ST ABN.  I ASSIGNED HIM AS MY 'A TEAM' LEADER.  I WAS WITH HIM WHEN HE DIED AND HIS LAST WORDS WERE TO ME. I HAVE A VERY MOVING PICTURE OF JIM IN VIET NAM MOUNTED ON MY LIVING ROOM WALL.  I HAVE OTHER PICTURES OF JIM.  I WOULD LIKE TO DONATE THEM TO ANY SURVIVING FAMILY THAT HE MAY HAVE. MAY GOD BLESS HIM AND HIS FAMILY.
GOD BLESS
DENNIS M. DALY

(photos courtesy of Dennis M. Daly)

James Malone by D Daly D Daly James Malone by D Daly
James Malone and a little Vietnamese girl. There was candy in the helmet. Dennis M. Daly
101st Airbone
Vietnam
James is the one wearing a helmet.
James Malone by D Daly
James (in the background) with a captured Viet Cong Major.

''He also told about an incident in one of his letters where he and two other soldiers had captured a Viet Cong major. The man appeared to be dead, but when the soldiers checked closer, they discovered he was indeed, alive and well. They took him prisoner.'  From "One Day as a Lion"

Dennis Daly:
THAT WAS US!  Poor guy (VC Major) was on a stretcher and they tried to sneak him past our 'Cordon and Search' perimeter at night.  He was hit in the buttocks by one of my tracer rounds, which were then deflecting off of the ground and coming down by my Company CO (CPT. Holland).  The two guys on my squad with M-79 Grenade Launchers had orders to target where my tracers landed and after the tracers ricocheted off the ground they were landing by the CO's command post (our perimeter was a circle around the village).  That's where they targeted.  Boy, was he ever pissed off (Warren might remember this incident).  I've attached a picture of the Major.  We waited until dawn to search the skirmish area.  The stretcher bearers had split when I gave them the 3 'Halt' commands.  This was my first action in country and I did not want to shoot any innocents (even if they were sneaking around at night-LOL).

D Daly

Can't remember his name but this old 
E-6  was Jim and my platoon sergeant (guess he lost a lot of stripes here and there).  When I got shot he crawled up to me along with the medic and provided me with a goodly share of rice whiskey from his pack.

James Malone by D Daly  D Daly D Daly

This picture (Spring - 2001) shows me explaining my tribute to Jim to my daughter and grand children. The picture that I took of Jim doing what he loved to do (give candy to the children), in this case in his helmet, makes up the lower portion.  The upper portion is a reproduction of the cover of the book 'Conversations with God' in which an individual is depicted speaking across an expanse to God.  I put myself there asking 'Why'?  Jim was such a great person, and why was it him that had to die.

Dennis at the Rolling Thunder Review in Washington DC
On 14 June, 2009, Dennis made a visit to McKinney, riding a Harley-Davidson, on his way from New York to California. We visited Jim and then I took him on a tour of McKinney and all the old hangouts.
Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket
Dennis at Jim's gravesite. Dennis and RD Foster The site of the proposed Veterans Memorial Park in McKinney
  
   

YET FILLED WITH GRACE

It's blistered feet, withering heat,
And a fifty-pound pack straining his back.
It's countless minutes, cuts and bruises,
Which no amount of ointment can hope to soothe.
It's daily care to prevent rifle rust,
Should his weapon fail, he will be as the dust.
It's monsoon rains which seem never to quit,
And thoughts of home which somehow don't fit.
It's climbing cruel mountains only to find,
Another waiting like the one behind.
It's thousands of insects, various kinds,
Which deprive him of peace of mind.
It's cold "C" rations eaten in haste,
But rest assured none go to waste.
It's the smell of repellent on a sweaty body.
Mixed with the odor of decaying Charlies.
It's booby traps and punji stakes,
Leeches, mud, and deadly snakes.
It's the constant strain of staying alert,
Of trying to sleep in mud and dirt.
It's unwashed fatigues, but he dares not spare,
His drinking water, for it is often rare.
It's that minute, which seems like a year,
When enemy rounds crack close by his ear.
It's treacherous tunnels and close quarter fighting,
Endless patrols to keep Charlie from hiding.
It's violent ambushes, quick and cruel,
To relax out here, is the creed of a fool.
It's long and lonely nights of fear,
While each sense asks, "Is Charlie near?"
It's brave men becoming strangely quiet,
When they hear of a stateside anti-war riot.
It's a Catholic mass by a beautiful creek,
It matters not what day of the week.
Others faiths pray in a nearby place.
Rifles in hand, yet filled with grace.
It's missing his loved ones who wait in fear,
And yearn for the day he will finish his year.
It's the sudden stillness the jungle assumes,
When a burst of fire signals his doom.
It's the terrible agony with which he is filled,
When learning a comrade has just been killed.
For when napalm, rockets, and other hard knocks,
Don't quite get Charlie out of those rocks.
When planes and ships and tanks have failed,
The man with the rifle will prevail.
It's the silent prayer late at night,
Dear God,
I did not ask for this fight,
But I take comfort in knowing we are right.
I pray that tonight will not have taken me in death,
I pray that at dawn I still have my breath,
I ask that when we are through with this strife,
At lest some men will know a better life.
When the bombs have stopped falling,
We shall hope to find,
A free Vietnam, a wiser mankind.


By Sgt. Warren W. Chan, RA 18911790
Company "D" (Mad Dogs Delta)
1st BN. 2nd BDE., 501st, Airborne Infantry
101st Airborne Division
LZ Sally, South Vietnam
12 Dec. 1968


 

 
The 101st Airborne "Screaming Eagles" in Vietnam

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