Lies catch up with false sergeant major

MISSION — Marine Sgt. Maj. J.C. Ortiz has spent at least the last 15 years living a lie.

The story he has told his friends and family countless times about his decorated war record is not true.

Sgt. Maj. J.C. Ortiz never existed.

There were no seven Purple Hearts.

No four tours of combat in Vietnam.

And he certainly was never a sergeant major.

The lies caught up with Ortiz, born Gerrald Jerome Bowman, on Tuesday. He admitted the medals and battlefield stories were all lies.

"All I ever wanted to do was promote patriotism and Americanism," he said. "Even when I gave my speeches I tried to say, ‘I am not a hero, I am just a survivor.’"

The claims were the cornerstone of a supposed military career that earned him the admiration of scores of veterans and civilians in the Rio Grande Valley.

For years, his story about a 39-year career in the Marines dazzled crowds at veterans’ events throughout the Valley. He spun a convincing story that often silenced crowds and brought them to tears.

He made everyone, including The Monitor, believe his hard-scrabble story about an orphan boy.

The Monitor presented Ortiz, 64, with the inaugural Spirit of Freedom award for Service in Uniform in May.

Jan Hertzog, the woman who nominated Ortiz for the award, refused to comment Wednesday.

Most recently, Ortiz captivated the audience with a speech at the opening of the traveling Vietnam Wall Experience in McAllen.

He often played the part of the fatherly Marine.

He would wait for the body of dead Marines and soldiers from the Valley to be flown back to McAllen-Miller International Airport.

On Jan. 17, Ortiz proudly stood in his official dress blues at the McAllen airport as Army Sgt. Johnny Peralez’s body was flown in from Iraq. Veterans from America’s Last Patrol and local VFWs reverently surrounded Ortiz there, turning to him for leadership.

"All I wanted to do was help as a service to my country," he said. "I didn’t try to get into any military bases and I didn’t try to rip off the government."

Instead, he used his prestige to serve in color guards throughout the Valley, to raise money for the Veteran’s War Memorial of Texas in McAllen and to authoritatively speak on military and veterans’ issues.

But Ortiz’s statement at a ceremony last month to honor a Mission man who served in Vietnam foreshadowed things to come.

Jose Victor Romo’s mother found a letter Romo wrote from Vietnam in 1968 that had never been read. When a Monitor reporter asked Ortiz at the ceremony how he managed to write to his family from Vietnam without worrying them, Ortiz seemed to hint at his deception.

"I told them lots of lies, not the truth," he said June 26, 2005.

Two days before Memorial Day this year, Ortiz brought a crowd of bikers to tears when he explained how he was orphaned at 9.

Struggling through his written speech, Ortiz recited a story heard dozens of times throughout the Valley.

He enlisted in the Army at 13, and the Marines at 17, going on to serve four tours in Vietnam.

A review of public and Marine records, as well as interviews with family, has stripped that story of its luster or heroic nature.

A 39-year career in the Marines has become three and half years that ended in a discharge in 1962. He never made it to Vietnam.

The four years he served in the Army are now 90 days, Ortiz says. They discharged him once they found out how old he really was.

Based on the new information, The Monitor has withdrawn its award.

"Concerning the circumstances, we at The Monitor feel we have no choice but to rescind the Spirit of Freedom Award given to J.C. Ortiz in May, or Gerrald J. Bowman, whatever his real name," said The Monitor Editor Steve Fagan. "It’s meant to represent the highest ideals of what it was to be an American."

The troubles began almost a decade after he was discharged from the Marines.

His first wife died in a car accident in 1971.

"The next 20 years I went crazy," Ortiz said, "crazier I guess."

When Ortiz’s first wife, Rosie, died, he raised his son, Gerrald Jerome. His daughter, Lori, was sent to live with relatives in Redland, Calif., family members said.

Ortiz’s son, 44, has not spoken to his father in more than five years, but he said he cannot remember ever hearing his father talk about his career in the Marines.

He agreed with his father’s assessment of his mental condition after his wife’s death.

Ortiz moved to San Antonio and married Norma Maida in 1975, then divorced her in 1985.

He now claims he legally changed his name in 1987 to honor his first wife.

"I never did get over her," he said. "She was the first person that taught me what true love could be."

He married his current wife, Martha Rodriguez, in 1991 and moved with her to the Valley about 1994.

Martha only found out the truth a few days ago.

He pieced together stories he heard from other Marines to form his own illusion of meritorious service and bought medals he said he earned.

"Go to any Army-Navy store and you can buy anything you want," he said. "It wasn’t difficult."

No one ever suspected anything about the number of medals he wore.

"You can buy uniforms all day," Ortiz said. He hand picked his medals out of a catalogue.

"I did it with good intentions," he said through tears. "It just got out of control, it’s my fault."

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Andres Martinez and Miriam Ramirez are staff writers for The Monitor. They can be reached at andresm@themonitor.com and mramirez@themonitor.com.

Mike Roy is a staff photographer for The Monitor. He can be reached at mroy@themonitor.com.

For this and more local stories, visit www.themonitor.com. Miriam can be reached (956) 683-4468. Andres can be reached at (956) 683-4434.