David F. Winder '66 (Congressional Medal of Honor)

Joined: 06 Jun 2007 Posts: 256 Location: Longview, TX

David Winder has been gone a long time. Maybe even forgotten by some.

To others, the Malabar High School graduate and Congressional Medal of Honor recipient left a lasting legacy dancing in their minds. No reminder was needed.

However, one was delivered Dec. 9 when Winder's lost dog tags finished a 38-year journey from a rice paddy in Vietnam. They were finally presented to younger brother Joe in Mount Airy, Pa., a suburb of Philadelphia.

"We didn't know anything about even a glimmer of a thought about dog tags at a time like that," Joe Winder said.

That time is locked in his mind. The 60-year-old remembers exactly how he learned about his brother's heroic, tragic death.

"David had asked me to have my parents home on a Saturday because he was supposed to be on leave (in Japan) and he was going to call home," Joe said. "We were literally waiting on a phone call and the military guys came in, and I remember thinking, 'What are those guys doing here?' "

With Honor
David died May 13, 1970.

"We were expecting to talk to him," the late Gertrude Winder told the Ashland Times-Gazette in 1985, "but it just must have been the way it was supposed to be."

In fact, Joe talked Gertrude out of attending a birthday party for her twin brothers in Pennsylvania that weekend, just to be home for the call between 3 and 5 p.m.

"We were there together," the late J. Calvin Winder said in the same story. "Suppose she had gone home to the party and I had been alone and got that word?"

The details wouldn't spill out until later. At the time, they didn't matter to the family.

"I got in the car and just drove around Mansfield," said David's older sister Nancy Winder Carpenter, 65, who lives in Shaker Heights. "I just remember screaming and yelling to get it out of my system.

"I just didn't think things like this would happen. I don't know how our parents survived it."

David's older brother, John Winder, 64, was in Boston.

"I was working at a Mariott motel that evening, and my manager came and told me my parents were trying to get word to me," said John, who lives in Hudson. "My wife and I drove through the night to get back to Mansfield."

Later, the final moments of David's life would be memorialized with the nation's highest military honor.

Repeated attempts to reach men from David's unit were unsuccessful.

According to his citation, presented July 17, 1974, in Washington D.C., David Winder was an unarmed medic in the 3rd Battalion, 1st Infantry, 11th Infantry Brigade, Americal Division when Company A was pinned down in a rice paddy by automatic weapons and rocket-propelled grenade fire.

Pfc. Winder, 23, began maneuvering across about 100 meters of open, bullet-swept terrain toward the nearest casualty.

While crawling most of the distance, he was wounded, but still managed to administer medical aid. As he continued to crawl toward a second wounded soldier, he was forced to stop after taking another hit.

"Aroused by the cries of an injured comrade for aid, Pfc. Winder's great determination and sense of duty impelled him to move forward once again, despite his wounds, in a courageous attempt to reach and assist the injured man," the citation read. "After struggling to within 10 meters of the man, Pfc. Winder was mortally wounded. His dedication and sacrifice inspired his unit to initiate an aggressive counterassault, which led to the defeat of the enemy. Pfc. Winder's conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the cost of his life were in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit on him, his unit and the U.S. Army."

Growing up in Mansfield
Those who knew him best were stunned by his death, but not by the news he was killed trying to help others.

"David was a wonderful person, a lot of fun," said Marcus Wolfe, a childhood friend. "Nobody ever would have dreamed he would be a hero or had been awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor or anything like that because he was so passive."

After moving to Mansfield with his family in 1958, David Winder forged a reputation as the boy next door.

"He was somebody you wanted your sister to marry," said Carl Dinger, a Malabar classmate who established an annual $1,000 scholarship in David's name for a Mansfield Senior High School graduate. "In all the time I knew him, I never saw him lose his temper. I mean, he wasn't an aggressive individual at all."

Cheri Davis agreed.

"He was an incredibly nice guy with all the patience in the world," said Davis, who was three years younger. "He was a quiet, shy, gentleman with an extraordinary ornery streak. You could trust him implicitly."

Eerily, David predicted his future in a letter to her.

"I have multiple, multiple letters from him," Davis said. "One of them says, 'When you next see me I'll probably be on the cover of Life magazine receiving the Congressional Medal of Honor.'

"That was his sense of humor."

A Medic
Few could have imagined such an ending for the boy born Aug. 10, 1946, in Edinboro, Pa. Third of four children, he carried a slight build and reserved carriage.

"I met David at or near the start of the school year going into the eighth grade," said David Beard, of Tustin, Calif. "We gave him a nickname because his father was a minister: 'Preach.' He was kind, always smiling, accepting of a lot of kidding and so very nice to be around.

"It surprises me not that he was a medic. I marvel at his courage. Physical stature, kindness, gentleness and goodness do not preclude, nor are they indicators of courage.

"I consider myself lucky to have known 'Preach.' "

David's father, a minister for several years at the First Presbyterian Church in Mansfield, was a powerful influence on the young man.

"I think he and my father had a special bond," John Winder said.

David graduated in 1964 during the escalation of the Vietnam conflict. In what seems an odd move for his personality, he attended Kemper Military School in Boonville, Mo., for two years.

"I don't know why he did that," Dinger said. "That didn't really fit David at all."

None of his siblings recall the reason for his next move, either: enrolling at the University of Alabama. Each of them mentioned David's passion for college football and agreed the legend of coach Paul "Bear" Bryant may have been the deep South's allure.

He never graduated. Upon being drafted in May 1969, he contemplated fleeing to Canada.

"David was definitely against the war," John Winder said. "I guess he did think of Canada, but didn't think that was right, either."

Instead, he joined the service as a conscientious objector, refusing to participate as a combatant.

"I remember he said he couldn't kill somebody," Carpenter said. "In the end he wanted to serve his country in a way he was comfortable with."

Still, he could flash that ornery streak Davis mentioned.

"I was in the military and at home at Christmas time. I had to go back, and Dave volunteered to go with me to drive my car back to Mansfield," Dinger said. "We got down there and the car breaks down. Neither one of us had enough money to send him back on the bus, so we snuck him into the marine barracks (in Jacksonville, N.C.). You have to remember he had long hair at this time and so we passed him off as a military intelligence agent. He was playing pool with the MPs. He was probably there for four or five days.

"To sell himself as an undercover guy, Dave could carry it off."

Shortly thereafter, he was on his way to Vietnam.

At once, David hated it, but might have found something worthwhile, too.

"David was basically opposed to what the Army stood for," J. Calvin Winder wrote in a letter to his congregation in 1975. "This position he reached after a long, hard struggle."

Yet the family said being a medic sparked a level of interest in a post-military career in health care. It just wasn't to be.

"I grew up in the Presbyterian Church where David's father was our minister for many years," said Lorri Collins Walker, of Lucas. "I remember David as a quiet and gentle person. It was always very hard for me to imagine him in Vietnam.

"It wasn't hard though to imagine that he was helping others when he died."

Four years later, the family traveled to Washington, D.C., for the memorial ceremony. Vice President Gerald Ford presented the Congressional Medal of Honor to his parents.

In September 1985, the Army dedicated a medical clinic in David's honor at Fort Benning, Ga. That and Dinger's scholarship have kept David Winder's name alive.

His spirit was rekindled last summer.

On June 23, Jess DeVaney was in Vietnam. The 59-year-old retired Marine Corps rifleman is president of the Tours of Peace group based in Tucson. He and other members of the organization return to Vietnam about once a year seeking lost personal effects of U.S. military personnel.

"The whole goal and mission of TOP is to find healing and closure," DeVaney said.

Although more than 1,000 personal effects have been recovered, often such items are sold to tourists.

Found Treasure
The team's last day in Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon) brought probably the biggest discovery of all. "We had some time, and our groups made their way into the city," DeVaney said. "My guess is it was in a marketplace. It's a crude way to put it, but it's like a scavenger hunt. The groups came back that night, and I was handed three small bags and there were three different dog tags. I hand-carried them with me on my person."

DeVaney had no idea who David Winder was, or that he was a Congressional Medal of Honor winner.

"In a way I'm glad I didn't know. I wouldn't have been able to sleep. I would've been hyper-vigilant about protecting it," DeVaney said.

Upon their return to the U.S., a two-month process began and national personnel records were utilized. Finally, Winder's identity was revealed.

"It was very special," DeVaney said. "This is the first Congressional Medal of Honor winner's personal effect we've recovered."

TOP dug into the family's background and discovered Gertrude died in January. J. Calvin Winder was in poor health after a fall. So the decision was made to send a letter of inquiry to Joe, the youngest of the Winder siblings.

"We're sensitive to the situation these families, or in some cases the veteran, is going through," DeVaney said. "One time I called a veteran and told him we had found his dog tag and he was very angry. I could tell he was getting angrier and he told me he was going to hang up on me, and he did. A couple of weeks later he called me back and he was still angry, but he asked me to send it to him, so I did."

Later, DeVaney took another call, and the veteran said the initial connection came on a day he planned to kill himself. The man lost both legs to a mine in Vietnam. His dog tag must have been in one of his boots, and was later brought home by TOP.

The veteran said he didn't have much of a relationship with his son, but was hoping to use the dog tags to re-establish communication.

"Almost always it's a good thing, but after so many years it's an incredible surprise and the emotions can be heightened," DeVaney said.

In the Winder case, the patriarch's health was the primary consideration. Joe was 18 months David's junior, and the two brothers shared a bedroom at 741 Andover Road in Mansfield.

"When I read (TOP's) letter initially I thought it was a scam," Joe said. "I can't say enough about this group. They knew my mother had died recently and they didn't want my dad opening his mail and seeing this.

"I just wasn't certain what affect it might have on Pop. It just didn't seem appropriate, so I couldn't tell him."

The elder Winder died in October, and on Veterans Day, Nov. 11, Joe began thinking again about the letter. The next day he checked out the organization on the Internet, and got in touch with DeVaney.

From there, TOP took care of the details. DeVaney flew to Philadelphia and delivered the dog tag to Joe.

"I carried it from Vietnam, I was going to take it the rest of the way," DeVaney said, his voice quavering. "It's emotional to me still.

"David puts a good face to the Medal of Honor. His story is just incredible. To have those beliefs and do what he did. He was an incredible individual. People ask me about the highlights of this organization, and this is way up there."

With the death of both parents and discovery of David's dog tags, 2008 has been extremely emotional for the Winder clan.

"It's been like a cascade effect, one thing after another," Joe Winder said.

Still, there are six Winder grandchildren, and each of them is learning anew about their uncle David.

A Living Legacy
Meanwhile, in Mansfield, Dinger's tribute continues to touch lives. Although he lives in Thonotosassa, Fla., he sends a letter each year to the David Winder scholarship winner to introduce the generous person behind the award.

"When I came back (from Vietnam) and David didn't, I felt like I had a wonderful blessed life, and he had nothing," Dinger said. "I let the guidance counselors at Mansfield Senior handle it. It's for financial need, but not necessarily academic performance. They just have to have the ability to achieve."

That idea is flourishing.

"When my daughter Susan graduated from Senior High in 2001, she was the proud recipient of the David F. Winder Memorial Scholarship," Ramona Beach Mills said. "The funds were awarded with a bound copy of information about David and the scholarship fund.

"David's legacy lives on in my daughter's life as it does in so many other lives. She is currently living and working in Quito, Ecuador. I know she is thankful for the financial assistance of the scholarship fund, as it helped with her college expenses at Ohio State."

David is buried in Mansfield Memorial Park. His legacy reflects a life dictated by principle, spent trying to save others.

He is one of eight Congressional Medal of Honor winners from Richland County, and the only one in the 20th century. More than 3,400 honors have been bestowed since the decoration's creation in 1861, according to the Congressional Medal of Honor Society.

David Winder's life was much too short. But the conscientious objector probably would have approved of his legacy.

In a high school senior class letter, not to be opened until the following year, David talked of wanting to be a teacher and a tennis coach.

"I am not afraid of death, but I would like to live a life which is about like the average American," he wrote. "I would also like to be generous.

"I hope when I die I will be remembered by many of my friends."

In fact, his exploits have been remembered by friends, family members, military personnel and even a man who became President of the United States.

Perhaps his father had the best take of all. In that 1975 letter to his congregation, J. Calvin Winder wrote:

"David was not much for pomp and ceremony and was very adept at making short, descriptive, and often witty statements; and I often wonder what he would have to say about these ceremonies and celebrations."

Published in the Mansfield News Journal on December 28, 2008