(For photos, visit http://vietnammusings.blogspot.com/

Tribute to James O. Atkinson, Jr. - MARCAD, warrior, patriot and friend

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Jimmy Atkinson was a Marine Aviation Cadet, or MARCAD, as we were known. As a MARCAD, the Marine Corps had agreed to make him a Naval Aviator and give him the gold bars of a Marine Corps officer if he agreed to stay unmarried for the 18 months of training and then remain in the Corps for another three years after that. Being married might be a distraction from the intense rigors of the program, I guess, not to mention that the pay was only about $98.00 every two weeks, as I recall. Hardly enough for one to live on much less two or even three after the baby comes along. Jimmy became a MARCAD in 1964 and was transferred after finishing boot camp at Paris Island to Pensacola, Florida, where he joined other guys in the program like Sonny Vergara, Norm Whitbeck, Gary Shields, Doug Sanders, Larry Bancells and others. We were all bright, brash, very young, and none of us believed we would ever die.

In those days we felt we could learn and do anything and we had the greatest military organization in the world showing us how to do it. Everything was possible and nothing was impossible. Our futures promised a life of living on the edge as aviators in an organization where we were the best of the best. We were filled with exhilaration at the thought of flying and being in control of some of the most powerful and dangerous machines made by man. Dying was just a concept, part of the mystique and thrill of becoming a pilot in the United States Marine Corps. We all knew about the dangers of flying especially military flying but the thought only heightened our excitement. The fallibility of the machine while always in our minds was set aside by our trust in the training of our comrades and our belief that they, like us, were the best on the planet. Besides, we also believed mortality was for humans and the Corps had convinced us we were more than human. We were of Teflon and steel and nothing could take us down.

Jimmy Atkinson was a Marine's Marine. Strong, straight jawed, ramrod straight, lean and dark eyed. He could have been a male model and he could have had any girl on Pensacola Beach if he had wanted any of them. He embraced the challenges of the program, as we all did, with energy and excitement at what might next be put before us to conquer. The program was designed to teach us everything we needed to know about flying as well as to train our bodies and spirits to be sharp and ready for the demands and expectations of a Marine pilot. Jimmy did it with finesse.

We all thought it was a bit odd, however, that every Friday afternoon, he could be seen leaving the base in his little black MG convertible, going south and not returning until late Sunday. For a long time we thought he had a girlfriend back in his hometown of St. Petersburg, but it wasn't until much later that we learned he was actually married all that time. Suddenly, it was clear why this guy would never go out with the rest of us on the weekends to "terrorize the natives" as it was known. He never went carousing, as a bunch of red-blooded young men are prone to do, but was quick to laugh with us when we bragged of our often fruitless but hilarious escapades.

After the Training Command, like the rest of us, Jimmy would be ordered to Vietnam. There he would fly the UH-34 Sikorsky helicopter rescuing recon teams, carrying wounded Marines from the battle to the hospital, and getting them re-supplied when they ran low on ammo, all of which happened many times under fire from a determined enemy. Jimmy flew hundreds of these missions. Despite the dangers, the MARCAD mentality of invincibility held true and he returned home safely after his 13-month tour of duty.

Ultimately, he stayed in the Corps for 20 years, becoming a jet fighter pilot and going back to Vietnam for a second harrowing tour flying the A-4 Skyhawk. Again, the Teflon and steel of the MARCAD credo stayed strong and he returned to his family which by then included three strapping sons. Jimmy subsequently left the Corps and spent another twenty years quietly delivering mail for the United States Postal Service back in St. Petersburg. He never bragged about his past and talked little of his war experiences.

Then, last October he developed a cough and went to the VA to have it checked. It was not good news. When his emails suddenly quit coming, Norm Whitbeck inquired and Jimmy sent us a note saying he had been diagnosed with stage four lung cancer. He said they had told him he had three to six months to live, without treatment, and maybe a year with treatment. Faced with such prospects, which he said were unacceptable, he headed for Mexico for alternative treatment. He said he'd let us know when he got back.

After a month or so, he emailed us that he was back in St. Pete and feeling better but that he was going to start chemo and radiation treatments soon. He didn’t say as much, but it was apparent the Mexican treatments hadn't worked.

(PHOTO see below)
Norm Whitbeck, Jimmy Atkinson (seated) Doug Sanders
And Sonny Vergara. MARCADS all.

Norm went over to see him a number of times and I saw him twice after that. He was much thinner, on oxygen and unable to get around except in a wheelchair. Karen, his wife who is also a nurse, doted on him and it was clearly apparent he was under the best possible care he could have which, I suspect, had been the case for every one the many years they had been married. We took pictures and he told me not to worry because he had already talked to Jesus and was ready to "go vertical" to God.

In December, when Norm and I heard the news, we were terribly saddened but in full belief that Jimmy did not break the MARCAD code of invincibility. Like any good MARCAD and Marine fighter pilot would do under such circumstances, he just waited until the time was right, pulled the nose of his aircraft straight up into the noon sun, hit the afterburner, and went vertical to God.

Semper Fi, Jimmy.

Sonny Vergara
MARCAD