Tale of camaraderie: Vets tell their service
<p>Terry Andreessen</p>
Vets Andreessen T
<p>Taps by Ginny Chewning</p>
<p>Ken Mancuso, left, receives a check from Sierra Westlund, center, and Taylor Cook.</p>
<p>Kari Lindgren</p>
<p>VFW Post 1548 member Lorenzo Lamantia readies Old Glory during the Venterans Day ceremony at Libby Cemetery Monday morning.</p>
<p>Veterans Ken Mancuso, left, and Bob Gruber listen to speaker Terry Andreessen.</p>
Vets Flag
<p>Patrick Faulkner of Boy Scout Troop 1971, places a wreath as Stella Sharp, left, and Maria Wegner look on.</p>
<p>American Legion Post 97 honor guard with muzzle flash by William Swagger Jr.</p>
Libby High and Middle School students who thought they were getting out of class — and a lesson — for a Veterans Day assembly on Monday got schooling anyway in Americana and late 20th century world affairs from two guest speakers.
Veterans Chris Keogh and Terry Andreessen had the attention of Libby’s youth as they relayed stories of their military service to America.
Keogh, who spoke first, is both a veteran of the U.S. Army and Coast Guard.
“I really enjoyed the Coast Guard,” Keogh said. “I found I preferred saving lives rather than taking them.”
Keogh said military life suited him, so much that he went back for a second stint.
“It was what I needed at that time in my life,” Keogh said.
Keogh’s compelling address was followed by Andreessen’s heart-felt experiences in Vietnam.
“If you remember one thing — just one thing — from my talk today,” Andreessen told students raising his right index finger for emphasis: “The American soldier writes a blank check to the United States of America that could he could end up paying for with his life. Only two people will die for you: Jesus Christ and the American soldier.”
Andreessen spoke openly about his fear of going to Vietnam in 1968, going so far as asking people to “pull strings” for him. In the end, he talked to his father who told him he must fight because he was called.
“He loved me,” Andreessen said, indicating his father said there was no honorable way out.
Andreessen described Vietnam as a tropical nightmare of seemingly endless rainy seasons “where you battled skin rot” as well as the enemy.
Andreessen described being dropped in a platoon, at 23 as the eldest of mostly 18 to 21-year-olds.
“We had Kentucky hillbillies and rich California kids,” Andreessen said. “These men in my platoon were the real deal. We did stuff you see in movies.”
Andreessen said as he came to know his platoon members, he thought of the inequity of fighting for freedom in a foreign land while not having the right to drink alcohol or even being able to vote for the politicians who sent them there.
“To be 18 and be maimed or killed for freedom just didn’t seem right,” Andreessen told the group of students, many of whom are not much younger.
Time and time again, Andreessen spoke fondly of the veterans with whom he served and those three World War II veterans who were in attendance.
“Three in my platoon committed suicide after they returned,” the always stoic Andreessen said.
“I was wounded three times, and I prayed to God: ‘Don’t let me die here. Let me go home.’”
Andreessen said when he got home, he didn’t live up to his deal with God.
“Instead, I went into bars looking for fights as I tried to deal with the anger. The demons of battle never go away,” Andreessen said.
Near the conclusion of his address, Andreessen was clear he has come to peace with battle and love for country and his fellow soldiers as he quoted Scripture from the book of St. John 15, verse 13:
“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”
Andreessen was given a standing ovation.