Charles L. Fulton

WWII infantryman was shot while fighting in France.

By Jeff Werner, BucksLocalNews.com


“We had to beat the Germans,” said World War II veteran Charles L. Fulton of Newtown. “Hitler had to go – no question about it.”

For two months, Fulton fought the German war machine in the mountains of Eastern France as a member of the 103rd infantry division.

“You never knew, from one minute to the next, if you’re going to have a bullet go through your head,” said Fulton. “My whole service life was full of pure unadulterated luck.”

The mountains of France were a world away from his home in St. Paul, Minn., where he spent his childhood during the 1920s and 1930s.

Fulton was born in Minneapolis, Minn., and grew up in St. Paul. He graduated from high school in Jan. 1943 when he was still 17. When he turned 18 that April he received his draft notice in the mail.

“I had tried to enlist in the Marines with one of my friends. That was the height of World War II. Very patriotic. Everybody wanted to do their part. I was looking forward to it,” he said.

The Marines, however, wouldn’t take him because he was nearsighted in his left eye. “It’s a good thing because my friend was killed in Tarawa and I’m sure I would have been killed along with him.”

Instead, he found himself in the Army. “They took me as limited service, sending me to basic training as a medic. I never understood why medics didn’t have to have good eye sight,” he said.
His status was soon changed from limited to general service.

“I wound up with the 103rd infantry division as a PFC rifleman and took extensive combat infantry training,” he said.

The division landed in Marseilles, France, in October 1944.

“Ironies of all ironies, the 103rd was committed to combat in the Vosges Mountains on Nov. 11, 1944. Twenty-six years after the Armistice was signed to stop World War I, I was in the mountains of France committed to combat, fighting the self-same Germans in the self-same country. I never got over that irony.”

Their objective was to wipe out the Germans in the Vosges Mountains, which forms the rugged border between Germany and France.

On Jan. 11, 1945, exactly two months after landing in France, he was wounded in action along the German border as he fled machine gun fire.

“We went into a defensive position near Forbach. There was snow and unbelievably cold weather. We were told to start an attack to push the Germans back into Germany. I was second scout that time. Another buddy of mine was in front of me and we were going along a hillside and a sniper put a bullet to his helmet. I thought he was dead and I called the medics to get him out of there. Three of us started down a hillside to see if we could outflank the sniper when a German machine gun opened up on us.”

Bullets sliced through the men on either side of him, killing both where they stood.

“How they missed me, I don’t know,” he said. “I dove behind a pine tree and I can still see it. I was sitting there trying to edge out there and machine gun bullets were digging up the ground around me. A bullet hit my helmet and knocked it off. The tree starts to splinter in front of me. My rifle gets knocked out of my hand. And I decided I better get out of there.

“I stood up and took one step and a baseball smashes me in the side and the next thing I know I’m laying down and starring up at the blue sky,” he said. “I thought I was dead. I absolutely couldn’t feel anything on my left side, but I put my hand over there and my arm was there. It was full of blood, of course. I jumped up, and again by miracle upon miracle, I ran up the hill and the machine gun chased me every inch of the way. I managed to get over the hill and walked to the aid station.”

The bullet had entered his left arm, nicked a nerve and tore out his shoulder blade and muscle. A medic team transported him to a field hospital where he was operated on.

The doctor told him, “You know you didn’t have to get yourself shot. You have a touch of Trench foot. You’ve got the start of pneumonia. You would have been back here anyway.”

He was aboard a hospital ship on his way home when the war officially ended in Europe.

One of the most emotional times of his life was standing on deck and seeing the Statue of Liberty come into view. “That was really something,” he said.

Back at home, he was sent to a hospital in Spokane, Wash. He was eventually granted a 30 day leave to return home to St. Paul. He was there when the war in Japan ended with the dropping of the Atomic Bomb.

“I forever bless President Truman to this day because I was an experienced combat infantryman and there was no way that I wouldn’t have been a replacement for the thousands that would have been killed invading Japan,” said Fulton.

Following his discharged in Feb. 1945, he returned to school under the GI bill. He attended McAllister College before transferring to the University of Maryland. That’s where he met his wife, Fay.

After graduation in 1951, he worked at the naval ordinance lab in Silver Spring, Md., the Frankford Arsenal in Philadelphia and the Picatinny Arsenal in New York before retiring in 1989 one year before his 65th birthday.

He documented his wartime experiences in the book, “My Draftee Life,” which he wrote for his sons.

On a return visit to France, he found the graves of the two men who were on either side of him when the machine gun started firing back in 1945. “I saw where I would have been buried. That was very emotional,” he said. “You just cry internally. There, for the grace of God, would have been me.”

Bill Stevens

Military Police Captain hears the echoes of war.

By Natalya Bucuy, Correspondent


Bill Stevens is a busy guy.

He serves as a councilman on Doylestown Borough Council. He coordinates sports officials for four Eastern collegiate conferences. He plays softball three times a week.

He is also a member of American Legion Post 210 in Doylestown and the Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW).

A graduate of Pennsylvania Military College, Stevens was commissioned as a Lieutenant to the Military Police Corps in 1965. From there he moved closer and closer to the combat zones of Vietnam.

First, Stevens went to Georgia for training. From there he was sent to Washington to form a military police unit. Then his and two other military police companies packed their gear to ship overseas. Only no unit knew where to until the last minute.

Steven’s company did not go to Vietnam. Instead Stevens and his men went to Ryukyu Islands – a cluster of about 50 islands south of Japan. The main island in the cluster, Okinawa, housed a U.S. military base with every branch of the military present. It became a home base for Stevens for the next three years as he served as a military policeman.

Okinawa, infamous for the battle of Okinawa during World War II, served as an important communication zone – a base of support for those fighting in Vietnam.

Although located more than 700 miles from the combat zones, Okinawa heard the echoes of the war as soldiers came and went through the base, Stevens recalls.

“People were coming and going; many of our people went. We referred to Vietnam as ‘down south,’ we never said, ‘Vietnam,’” Stevens remembers. “We had a lot of men who went back and forth to Vietnam for different reasons. I had a good friend who ran a dog training school so he went down there every month. The first Special Forces group was stationed there and they were always gone, we would never see them there.”

Stevens’ job was to run the military police station on the island, where the MP was the major police force.

His wife joined him on the island and worked as a librarian. The couple’s first daughter, Julie, was born there.

Stevens recalls that most of his classmates form college went to Vietnam, as did a lot of his friends. None of his military police friends died in combat, but some other friends did, he recalls. A close family friend, whom Stevens wrote to during the war, was killed right before Stevens went to the Army.

“That hit pretty close to home,” Stevens remembered.

Stevens said that though it was a given that he would be sent to Vietnam when he joined the Army, he never got to go.

“I wanted to go. Even though I had a family, I wanted to go,” Stevens said.

In 1968 Stevens left the Army as a Captain. His father told him he needed help with the family business, so Stevens made the decision.

“I was going to stay and become a general, but I realized after two years I wasn’t going to become a general,” Stevens said.

Once Stevens returned home he helped his father with the family business for two years and then became a commercial banker.

“That was the best job I ever had,” Stevens said.

For the past 32 years Stevens and his family have lived in Doylestown. Stevens has three children, Julie, 43, Jessica 40, and Tim, 36, who all reside in Bucks County.

Timothy Loux

Vietnam Veteran lost both legs in mine explosion.

By Bob Staranowicz, Correspondent


“I was a bit embarrassed when I was taken to the hospital after my encounter with a Claymore mine. I didn’t have my dog tags on but was able to give my Social Security number to the hospital staff even though I was pretty doped up.”

A Claymore is a directional anti-personnel mine used by the U.S. military. Unfortunately for Tim, this one was probably bought by the Viet Cong on the black market. This device fires shrapnel, in the form of steel balls, out to about 100 meters across a 60-degree arc to the front of it. It is used primarily in ambushes and as an anti-infiltration device against enemy infantry. Because of that encounter with a Claymore mine, Timothy Loux, formerly of Dublin, is a double amputee.

Tim was born in Trenton, but grew up in Dublin Borough. The oldest of three children, he attended Pennridge High School, and Bucks County Community College where he received an associates degree in computer technology. Tim had trouble finding a job as a programmer, so he transferred to Delaware Valley College and changed his major to business administration. Unfortunately, this change in his major caused Tim to lose his student deferment and he was later drafted in August of 1970.

After basic training at Fort Dix, he was sent to Fort Polk, Louisiana for Advanced Infantry Training. Luckily, Tim’s commanding officer was able to move a few men into Armored Personnel Carrier (APC) training at Fort Knox. This was supposed to prolong his stateside service and keep him out of Vietnam a bit longer, but after three weeks of training, he was off to Vietnam in January of 1971.

Tim arrived in Long Bihn, a popular entrance point for many new arrivals, and was assigned to the 11th Infantry of the 5th Division Mechanized. Mechanized infantry are infantry equipped with armored personnel carriers (APCs), or infantry fighting vehicles (IFVs) for transport and combat. He then joined his permanent squad a few weeks later in Khe Sahn.

“We performed numerous search-and-destroy missions in the area, but had little contact with the enemy. But, one night we were hit by a barrage of mortars and lost one of our mortar guns. Luckily, no one was injured in that attack,” Tim recalled.

Tim also had a close call with “friendly-fire” mortar rounds called in by his lieutenant to take out an enemy position dropped right in front of his perimeter.

Walking point was the worst duty you could have in Vietnam. A point man assumes the first and most exposed position in a combat military formation and is frequently the first to take hostile fire. On this mission, Tim was “volunteered” to walk point since the regular point man was heading home soon. It was an extremely hot day and the squad had stopped for lunch. The squad had a trained dog to sniff out mines but due to the extreme heat, the handler did not feel the dog could accurately predict in the situation.

Approaching the wooded area, the squad came upon a tank trail with many small footprints in the sand. Tim left the trail and had to walk through high grass for about 100 yards.

“It was quite unsettling,” Tim recalled. “I felt a blast to my right and found myself lying on my back.” Tim tried to get up but could not. “I could not use my legs even though I noticed that my boots were still intact.” Tim remained there in the intense heat until the medevac chopper arrived. Helicopters in Vietnam were, for the most part, the difference between living and dying for the many wounded who were rescued from the field.

Tim feels lucky that he was close to that Claymore when it ignited because if he were farther away, he may have been injured more seriously or even killed, since the Claymore wasn’t able to spread its shrapnel to its intended further range. So, being at close range, his life was spared.

Tim had both legs amputated below the knee and after spending a few days in a hospital in Quang Tri in the northern part of South Vietnam he was moved to Japan. It was there where a fellow Christian soldier, Wayne Moore, who was the radio man from his platoon, came to visit him.

Tim was sent home to the Valley Forge General Hospital where he was able to see his family. He spent 11 months recuperating and attributes his faith in God and strong supportive family in assisting his recovery.

Tim now lives in Morris, Pa., with his wife of 33 years. They have three children, Megan, Matthew and Nathan, and two grandchildren. Tim recently worked as a controller for Harley Davidson. He enjoys fishing and hunting and both he and his wife are NASCAR fans.

Tim recently returned to the area to speak at Veterans Day ceremonies at Plumstead Christian School where he told his story and displayed the courage and faith that has guided him through life since his tragic accident in Vietnam.

Norman A. Moorhead

U.S. Air Force veteran remembers the shock of Kennedy’s assassination.

By Petra Chesner Schlatter, BucksLocalNews.com


The date was Nov. 22, 1963 when John F. Kennedy, the 35th president of the United Sates, was assassinated in Dallas, Texas, at 12:30 p.m. Central Standard Time.

Kennedy was fatally shot while riding with his wife, Jacqueline, in a Presidential motorcade.
U.S. Air Force Reserve Staff Sgt. Norman A. Moorhead of Newtown Township remembers what he was doing on that day.

“Our whole squad at Sheppard Air Force Base was on the drill pad when they came over the PA system and they said, ‘Our Commander and Chief has just been shot and killed.’”

Moorhead said he, like countless others, just simply felt ill when he heard the shocking news.
“It is something that should never have happened in my opinion,” he said.

The veteran served in the U.S. Air Force from 1963 to 1967. Some of that time was spent at Naha Air Force Base in Okinawa, Japan. The base was the major support during the Vietnam War.

Calling the time period in which he served “the Vietnam era,” Moorhead talks openly about how the American servicemen were treated when they came home from Vietnam. “Some of the guys that came back from Vietnam — I don’t know how to say it — but they were not very welcome.
“They weren’t treated the way they should’ve been treated and that kind of bothered me a little bit,” he said. “Everyone who was in the military was in there to fight for our country and that’s what these guys were doing. They weren’t treated very fairly when they came out. That has since changed though.”

Moorhead graduated from Council Rock High School in June 1963 and enlisted in the Air Force on Sept. 10. “I was sent down to Lackland Air Force Base to complete my basic training,” he said.

He joined the Air Force almost 50 years ago because it “was just something I planned on doing. My buddy wanted to join the Navy, but he didn’t. I wanted to join the Air Force. I had a cousin in the Air Force. That’s probably one of the reasons.”

He completed his basic training at Lackland Air Force Base, Texas, before being transferred to Sheppard Air Force Base where he learned what he was going to be doing when he was in the service.

“I was on the alert crew, civil engineering squad,” he said. “That was my job when I was overseas, but there was nothing really outrageous or spectacular about it.”

Moorhead’s job had to do with generators for the bases. His title was electrical power production specialist. When training was over, he was assigned to McGuire Air Force Base in New Jersey. From there, he went to Okinawa, Japan and was stationed at Naha Air Force Base in Okinawa in the Pacific Air Force.

“I did have security clearance to get into special buildings on the bases,” he said.

“I was on what they called an alert crew overseas,” Moorhead said. “There was myself, I was an electrical power production specialist. There was an electrician, a plumber, heating and air conditioning person."

He was at Naha for 18 months and then was discharged from the Air Force with the rank of Airman First Class at Travis Air Force Base. But his discharge paper says: “Staff Sgt. United States Air Force Reserve,” he said, noting that was a promotion.

Moorhead was in the Air Force for four years active duty and for two years inactive duty. He was first an Airman 3rd Class with one stripe and was promoted to Airman 2nd Class with two stripes. He finished as an Airman 1st Class with three stripes.

Moorhead said being in the Air Force taught him a lot about discipline and how to take care of himself.

He came home to a law enforcement career. “In January 1968, I was hired by Newtown Township as a police officer,” Moorhead said. “I was promoted to sergeant. Later, I was promoted to captain. I retired as a captain with the Newtown Township Police Force.”

There was a big retirement party when Moorhead retired from the force in May 2008 after 40 years of service.

He is a member of the American Legion Morrell Smith Post 440 of Newtown. “I have been a post commander, assistant deputy sergeant at arms and now I am the service officer.”

Each year, Moorhead participates in Newtown’s Memorial Day Parade. In recent years, he has laid the wreaths at the veterans’ memorial near Newtown Borough Hall. He lays four other wreaths, including one at the gravesite of Morrell Smith. The American Legion in Newtown is named after him.

Moorhead and his wife, Linda, have two children, Karen and Jeff. The couple will celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary in May 2011.