A life cut short
- May 11
- 6 min read
'I love my country so much that I'll even die for her.'
By Patricia Buschette
On June 28, 1967, 150 young men and women were sworn in to the U.S. Marine Corps. The unlikely setting of the event, a televised pre-game ceremony at a Minnesota Twins baseball game, transported 146 young men and four young women from the Metropolitan Stadium in Bloomington to some of the most historic and bloodiest battles of the Vietnam War. In 1967, the Vietnam war was in its 12th year, and March of 1965 marked the entry of US. Combat troops into the war.
The recruits, all from Minnesota, had received notification that they would be guests of the Minnesota Twins at the game, sworn in at a ceremony that day, and then would be shipped to San Diego for training. They believed they would stay to watch the end of the game that day. That was not to be the case.
“At the end of the sixth inning, the recruits were signaled to come down from the stands and assemble. We were quietly directed to board buses that transported us to Wold-Chamberlain Field Airport,” Chris Sauro, one of the 150 recruits remembered.
Sauro was not only one of the recruits, but an author and historian who decades later answered the call to document the experiences of the recruits in his book The Legacy of the Twins Platoon with precision and sensitive detail.
Most everyone in Stewart, Minn. understood that one of the recruits, Kenneth V. Goodman, son of Virgil and Bernice Goodman was about to follow in his father’s footsteps. Ken’s father, Virgil, had experienced WWII at Iwo Jima.
“Ken’s father, Virgil, always talked about his days in the Marine Corps with pride,” Chris said. “When the Marines landed at Iwo Jima during WWII, ‘Virg’ was there. When he returned home from fighting in the Pacific with a bullet-scarred leg and wearing a Purple Heart, he was a local hero. In Ken’s eyes, his dad was a real hero.”
Sauro related the days before the swearing in with a personal touch.
“The day before Ken left for boot camp, he tried on his dad’s old Marine Corps uniform. He sucked in his stomach and, with some helpful tugging from Eileen McGraw, his girlfriend, he was able to button up Virgil’s World War II service coat,” Chris related.
Training for the Marines was excruciating. Kenny, who carried a few extra pounds, was assigned to a diet table that offered a scoop of cottage cheese, a leaf of lettuce and a fruit slice.
“Their decision to eat from the diet tables paid off,” Chris said. “They were able to obtain the Corps’ desired weight for their body type.”
“Kenneth Goodman arrived in Da Nang, Vietnam, on Dec. 8, 1967, then deployed to the uppermost northwestern area of South Vietnam,” Chris said. Ken’s letters home reported not only his locations, but revealed much of the sensitivity of this young man. A letter home reported, “I don’t know the company I’m going to, but it’s a place called Kason. There’s not much fighting going on there, but it should be interesting. There’s tigers, elephants, and lots of monkeys there,” his letter said.
Kenny had misunderstood the name of the garrison of Khe Sanh. Here U.S. Marines and South Vietnamese forces defended the area against North Vietnamese forces.
Chris’s research followed Ken’s experiences in Vietnam, and was supplemented by many letters exchanged by the family. According to Chris Sauro’s book, on Christmas day of that year Ken attended Catholic services, and on Dec. 27, 1967 he was on a flight to Khe Sanh where he would assume the dangerous job of machine gunner.
Khe Sanh was the focus of military planning as it was believed that the hills occupied by Marine forces would be attacked by North Vietnam forces. During this time Ken and his family continued to share letters as Ken told of his spiritual life.
“When I stand watch at night, I always say a rosary and I think that’s almost every night,” one of Ken’s letters said.
North Vietnamese forces grew from 40,000 upwards to 50,000. In the hillsides around Khe Sanh, the thick triple canopy of foliage that covered the hills that surrounded the base, made observation of the area impossible.
The juxtaposition of the Goodman family in Stewart and the reality of Kenny in the jungles of Vietnam could not have been more pronounced. Chris reports in his book that on Sunday afternoon Jan. 21, 1968, Bernice Goodman wrote to her son with the local news.
It was that night at Khe Sanh that the attack began with rockets and mortars, and Kenny opened fire with his M-60 machine gun. The fighting was brutal and the command post overrun. There were casualties and many corpsmen had been hit and needed medical attention.
Before enlisting, Kenny, who had graduated from the Medical Institute of Minnesota as a medical histologist (one who studies the microscopic structure of tissues) and had worked at the Lake Region Hospital in Fergus Falls seeking a cure for cancer, used his medical background to minister to wounded marines the best he could.
What prompted Kenny’s experience of a medical career choice?
“A lifetime spent helping other people is the least a man can do,” he had said.
Ken’s exemplary action was noted.
“Goodman, I’m making you team leader because you did so well last night,” the Squad Leader said. That was not all. He was promoted ahead of others in line for the promotion.
Then on Jan. 24 when things had quieted down, an incoming mortar exploded behind them. The loud blast sent one corpsman diving and he called out for the other two who had been nearby.
From The Legacy of the Twins Platoon: “The silence that followed was deafening. Fearing the worst, James looked around the Foxhole. Goodman was crumpled over and comatose from multiple wounds. He had sustained a life-threatening wound to the back of his head and was unconscious.” An emergency medevac was called. He was placed aboard the chopper that made a beeline for the main combat base.
The narrative went on: “As the aircraft lifted off, many marines were thinking about Goodman. His unique personality and friendly smile had made him many friends.”
Within half an hour of being wounded, Kenny was in the medical facility at Khe Sanh combat base. At 1300, the examining doctor pronounced him dead. After last rites, Kenny would be on his way home.
The tragedy at Khe Sanh plummeted the Goodman family into a nightmare that can only be imagined. The family began their Sunday with Mass at St. Boniface church in Stewart, not knowing the tragedy would soon unfold. As they made their way home, the car parked in the driveway with the Marine Corps emblem, the globe, anchor and eagle, emblazoned on the car door, provided unspoken evidence of Kenny’s death. The Goodman home was soon filled with friends and neighbors. The news exacerbated Virgil’s blood pressure condition, and he lay on the sofa with a doctor in attendance.
The news made its way to San Diego where Kenny’s fiancée, Eileen McGraw, lived with her sister Hannah and attended nursing school. Hannah learned of Kenny’s death, but kept it from her sister until hours later, when Vince and Lenora McGraw, neighbors and friends from Stewart, arrived to tell their daughter of Kenny’s death. It was not necessary to explain – their faces told the story. Eileen buried her face in her hands and wept. The McGraws left the next day for Minnesota.
The entire community of Stewart grieved the death of Kenneth Goodman. Family and friends came to help maintain the home as they prepared for his funeral, delayed for over a month as getting wounded evacuated took seniority to returning Kenny’s body. Chris reported that many had attended the funeral.
“The funeral procession was so long that the first cars reached the cemetery before the last cars were able to pull away from the church,” he reported.
Kenny’s friends from Khe Sanh who served with him, sent letters of condolences. One of them, Gene Groeschel, wrote, “All of us here miss Ken. He was a kind and generous person, and a friend to all.”
After a time, the letters, memorabilia, and flag were put away. Among them was a letter Kenny had written to Lyndon B. Johnson, the president of the United States while in college.
“Mr. President, I am patriotic, because I love my country so much that I’ll even die for her.”
It is with both pride and pain that Ken’s family remembers him.
“He had a short life but he’s well remembered, which gives me some peace, knowing his purpose, in life and death,” his sister Mary said.
Comments