Freddy Gonzalez - a U.S. Marine who left Edinburg and took care of his own

Editor's Note: Since the U.S. Medal of Honor's establishment in 1861, Congress and presidents of the United States have awarded the citation to more than 3,440 soldiers, sailors, airmen, Marines, and Coast Guardsmen.

It is the highest honor a service member can receive after time on a battle front.

Only three have been awarded to men either born or raised in the Rio Grande Valley - Jose M. Lopez of Mission; William "Billy" Harrell of Mercedes; and Alfredo "Freddy" Gonzalez of Edinburg.

Each served his country with extraordinary gallantry and is remembered for going above and beyond the call of duty.

Gonzalez's story follows. Harrell's and Lopez's stories can be found at www.themonitor.com.

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EDINBURG - Alfredo "Freddy" Gonzalez watched John Wayne war movies when he was just 9 years old.

As a teenager, the Edinburg native worked in the fields picking crops. He played football and followed the high school basketball team.

He dreamed of going to college so he could become a teacher and a coach.

But more than anything, he wanted to be a U.S. Marine.

A little more than 40 years ago, the 21-year-old Marine Corps platoon sergeant was killed during his second tour of duty in Vietnam.

On Feb. 4, 1968, Gonzalez fell mortally wounded after almost single-handedly taking out an enemy emplacement that had inflicted heavy casualties on his pinned-down company during the Tet Offensive.

Almost two years later, his mother, Dolia Gonzalez, accepted her son's U.S. Medal of Honor from Vice President Spiro Agnew.

The posthumous citation concludes: "He gallantly gave his life for his country."

Eventually, schools and military buildings, an American Legion post, boulevards, a veterans' home and even a Navy guided-missile destroyer were named in his honor.

Gonzalez would have turned 62 on May 23. He was Dolia's only child.

Now 77, she continues to work as a waitress. She carries a big void and still grieves for her son.

She doesn't blame anyone for persuading her son to join the Marines, though.

"He didn't have to do it. He was gung ho," Dolia said. He achieved his goal of becoming a brave Marine, giving his all to defeat the enemy and do his best to protect the men who served under him, she said.

PRELUDE TO WAR

Pete Vela of Edinburg said he and his late brother Robert grew up next door to Freddy.

"Freddy and I were in the same class, the Class of 1965," Vela said. "He was my football teammate. The best thing I remember about him was he was an overachiever.

"He was kind of small, but he was a true friend. He was very protective."

"In high school, we would congregate at night to play basketball (at Westside Park)," Vela said. "A guy we knew was a Golden Gloves boxer. He came over with two pairs of boxing gloves, daring any of us to take him on."

Gonzalez didn't know how to box, but he tried anyway as the other boy kept taunting him, Vela said.

"He would jab him and jab him," Vela said. "(Gonzalez) got tired of that kid and put him in a headlock. We had to pull him off. I guess Freddy would show his machismo."

Vela never forgot Gonzalez. When the USS Gonzalez was launched in February 1995, Vela and his wife traveled to Bath, Maine, for the ceremony, he said.

Gonzalez was never swept up in the wild times of the 1960s.

In high school, he did not grow his hair long like many others did, his mother said. The dissent of that era had no attraction for him.

"He was too busy with football," she said. "When he wasn't playing football, he was following the basketball team. It was the same group. ... On weekends he used to go mow lawns to make money."

Her memories of Freddy are brief but precious, Dolia said.

"I was 16 ½ when he was born; 35 when he graduated from school; 37 when I lost him," she said.

"I only saw my kid three times when he was in the service," Dolia said. "He only came home after boot camp, he came back in '67 after his first tour in Vietnam and he came to tell me he was going back," she said, her voice cracking.

He was home on leave after his first tour in Vietnam when he told her he was volunteering for a second tour. Although she was proud of his patriotism and bravery, she didn't want him to go back.

"The second time, yes," she said when asked if she tried to talk him out of it.

"But he said ‘No.' He had to go." He was determined, she said.

Freddy had learned that some Marines from his unit had been killed and he felt guilty because he was not with them, even though he had fulfilled his duty there, his mother said.

On July 1, 1967, he was promoted to sergeant and sent back to Vietnam. He was now a squad leader and platoon sergeant with 3rd Platoon Company A, 1st Battalion, 1st Marines, 1st Marine Division (Rein), Fleet Marine Force.

BATTLE OF HUE

On Jan. 31, 1968, Gonzalez was the sergeant in charge of a platoon of Marines bringing relief to Hue City in a truck convoy. His platoon officer had been wounded and evacuated.

As they neared the village of Lang Van Lrong, Viet Cong soldiers in civilian garb attacked. Gonzalez and his men fought back.

One Marine on top of a tank was hit and fell off. Gonzalez was wounded when he ran through heavy fire to retrieve the wounded man. On Feb. 3, he was wounded again, but refused medical treatment, ordering Navy hospital corpsmen to instead to care for other Marines.

On Feb. 4, Gonzalez and his platoon engaged Viet Cong who were holed up in St. Joan of Arc Catholic Church in Hue City, firing at the Americans with rockets and automatic weapons.

Gonzalez took on the Viet Cong by firing light anti-tank weapon rockets.

"Sgt. Gonzalez, utilizing a number of light antitank assault weapons, fearlessly moved from position to position firing numerous rounds at the heavily fortified enemy emplacements," his citation reads.

When firing ceased, Gonzalez believed all Viet Cong in the church were killed. But one survivor shot and killed him.

Unlike a typical Hollywood scenario in which a war hero's mother goes to the door to find a scared telegraph boy delivering the news her son had been killed, Dolia was not home to receive the news.

"I was working in a restaurant downtown," she said, recalling the day she learned her son had died in combat. A policeman and a Marine Corps recruiter visited her there, she said.

"They knew me very well. They called me ‘the little bitty one' because I was always skinny."

Today, tears fill her eyes as she recalls how the Edinburg community surrounded her with love and support after her son was brought home to be buried at Hillcrest Memorial Park.

Moral support from friends and neighbors have continued since.

"I cannot complain about my community," she said.

HONORED HERO

Nearly two years after Freddy's death, a Marine captain accompanied Dolia on a trip to Washington, D.C., for her son's posthumous decoration. On Oct. 31, 1969, in a ceremony in chambers of the U.S. House of Representatives on Capitol Hill, Agnew presented her with the Medal of Honor that her son had earned with his life.

"I remember very little," Dolia said about the ceremony. "My mind was somewhere else. My mind was on my son."

Honors would continue during the ensuing years, including a warship named after him.

In 1995, more than 1,000 VIPs witnessed Dolia christen the USS Gonzalez.

"I believe Freddy was there helping me swing that bottle of champagne," she said. "Children came over for me to sign their books. They were so nice."

Each year, she meets with Marine veterans who served with Freddy. She calls them "my boys."

At the Echo Hotel and Conference Center, where she now works, photos of her son and the ship named after him are prominently displayed.

Each time another one of the Rio Grande Valley's own dies fighting in Iraq or Afghanistan, she feels the pain their mothers are suffering, she said.

More than the medal, more than the schools and the streets and all the other accolades, Freddy would have wanted to be known for something else, his mother said.

"He took care of his men. That is what he would want people to remember him by."