WJAMS Veterans Directory

03/20/2026

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/17o7Z2LZ5B/

Juan Jose Valdez, 1937-2026

Juan Jose Valdez, the last American servicemember to leave South Vietnam on April 30, 1975, died on February 15. He was 88.

Marine Master Gunnery Sgt. Valdez had served a tour of duty in the Vietnam War as a platoon sergeant in 1965-67. In the spring of 1975, he was the U.S. Embassy's senior security guard noncommissioned officer in Saigon. In that role, he and his men oversaw the chaotic evacuation of the embassy (in photo below) as the North Vietnamese marched into Saigon on April 29.

Early the next morning, the security guards stayed behind until the last helicopter, a CH-45 Sea Knight, prepared to leave from the embassy rooftop.

Ten of the men clambered into the helicopter. As Sgt. Valdez tried to board, he tripped and fell onto the Sea Knight’s boarding ramp as the pilot took off.

Holding on by his hands, Sgt. Valdez was pulled aboard with the flight in the air at around 8:00 a.m. on April 30, 1975—which made him the last American to depart South Vietnam during the long American war.

More details about Sgt. Valdez's life at: https://washingtonmorning.com/2026/02/28/juan-valdez-passes-away-after-a-lifetime-defined-by-the-fall-of-saigon/

02/22/2026

He ran alone across open ground while enemy rifles were already aimed at his chest.
No backup.
No cover.
No hesitation.
That was how 32-year-old Technical Sergeant Bernard P. Bell began his fight in Mittelwihr, France.
His mission was simple and impossible. Take a schoolhouse turned into a German stronghold. The building controlled the entire town. Whoever held it controlled everything.
So Bell went first.
He sprinted across exposed ground, reached the door, surprised two guards, and captured them without firing a shot. Inside, he found more enemy soldiers hiding in the cellar.
He pulled gr***de pins.
And told them to surrender.
One by one, 26 German soldiers came up and laid down their weapons.
Bell turned the school into an American fortress.
Then the real battle began.
For over a day, German troops attacked again and again. Mortars smashed walls. Artillery tore through streets. The building shook. Communication lines were cut.
Each time, Bell ran outside under fire to repair them.
Each time, he came back alive.
German patrols closed in.
His squad fought them off.
A tank rolled forward and began blasting the school apart.
Bell climbed to the second floor anyway.
From shattered walls and falling debris, he called in artillery fire until the tank retreated. Then he shifted that fire onto advancing infantry, breaking their attack.
When enemies hid behind rubble, Bell stood beside a friendly tank under gunfire and pointed out targets. He helped blast holes in walls. He placed machine guns. He cut down every attacker who tried to advance.
By the end, his 8 man squad had k*lled at least 87 enemies and captured 42 more. Bell himself accounted for over 20 and captured 33.
He had turned a school into a battlefield.
And won.
For this, he received the Medal of Honor.
Then he went home.
No fame.
No spotlight.
He worked quietly. Lived quietly. D**d at 59.
A man who once held back an army.
And then disappeared.
Story based on historical records. This post is for educational purposes.

02/22/2026

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The jungle was burning in April 1972. Fire Support Base Charlie was collapsing. Explosions shook the ground. Soldiers were running out of food, water, and ammunition.
And one man refused to leave.
John J. Duffy was already wounded.
Once. Then twice.
Still, he stayed.
Enemy forces were closing in from every direction. The command post was destroyed. The battalion commander was gone. Chaos had taken over.
Duffy stepped forward.
He moved through open ground under constant sh*t and explosions, getting as close as possible to enemy positions. Not to fight them directly.
To call in airstrikes.
Each step exposed him. Each second could have been his last.
Then it got worse.
He was hit again.
Third time.
Still, he refused evacuation.
He stayed in the open, directing gunships, adjusting fire, holding the line together as everything around him fell apart. When enemy forces pushed closer, he made an unthinkable call.
Fire on his own position.
The blasts pushed the enemy back just enough.
Just enough to save his men.
By nightfall, it was clear they could not hold the base. Duffy organized a retreat. He stayed behind, calling in cover fire, making sure every man had a chance to escape.
He was the last to leave.
The next morning, the survivors were ambushed again. Injured. Exhausted. Scattered.
Duffy regrouped them.
Led them.
Fought for them.
He guided them to an evacuation point, still directing gunship support until helicopters arrived. Even then, he refused to board until every other soldier was safe.
Only then did he step on.
He had saved an entire battalion.
The award came later.
Not immediately.
Not when it mattered.
It took 50 years for his Distinguished Service Cross to be upgraded to the Medal of Honor.
50 years.
A lifetime.
Most people still do not know his name.
And that is how sacrifice disappears.
Story based on historical records. This post is for educational purposes.

12/11/2025

12/08/2025

A life well lived. World War II veteran and St. Cloud pillar Pat Rudd has passed away at 104. 🥺 Many of you have sent cards to her since her 100th birthday. Rest in Peace Miss Pat. We will miss you.

http://www.aroundosceola.com/news-newsletter/world-war-ii-veteran-and-st-cloud-pillar-pat-rudd-passes-away-104-friends-and