#133 TRAGIC DROWNING
It’s always distressing when my research uncovers a
drowning in the family. Water is so “ordinary” that we forget how quickly it
can turn unforgiving and that “ordinary” activities—work, travel, training,
recreation—can carry unexpected risks.
SERGEANT GARY ENJAR ECKLUND
They were nine experienced Marines, all expert swimmers, and
all in the very best physical condition. Yet all died on March 6, 1968, when
their training canoe overturned in the frigid Potomac River near the Quantico
Marine base. Sergeant Gary Eckland was one of these Marines.
Gary Eckland was born June 11, 1945 in Minneapolis. He was
an amateur boxer in the early 60s. On December 12, 1962, aged 17, he married
Betty Lou Teien, aged 16. They had two daughters.
In 1962, Gary enlisted in the US Marines. He completed two
overseas tours of duty, first in the Philippines, where Marines focused on
training and regional readiness, then in Vietnam.
Before 1965, the US mainly sent military advisors to support South Vietnam. In March 1965, the US Marines landed and became the first major American ground combat units to enter the war. The US then began a sustained bombing campaign against North Vietnam.
Gary served in Vietnam in this initial combat operation. In the mid 1960s, Marines in Vietnam were engaged
in demanding ground combat operations to secure territory and disrupt enemy
forces. Their days often involved long patrols through jungles and villages,
search-and-clear missions and establishing defensive positions; they endured
humidity, intense heat and seasonal downpours. Much of the countryside was
covered in dense jungle, with thick undergrowth, tall grasses and heavy tree
canopy that limited visibility and movement.
On April 12, 1965 Gary was wounded in action. The exact
nature of his wound is not known but the most common injuries were by small-arms
fire, shrapnel from grenades or mortars, and booby traps such as punji stakes
or trip-wire explosives. Many wounds were complicated by infection due to the
heat and humidity and the difficulty of immediate evacuation from jungle
terrain. A Marine would receive a Purple Heart if he was wounded as a direct
result of enemy action and the injury received treatment by medical personnel.
While Gary should normally have been eligible for the Purple Heart, there is no
available record of his receiving one. In the chaos of combat, paperwork was
sometime incomplete and some Marines never received the decoration.
Gary returned to the US, and was stationed at Marine Recruit Depot, Parris Island, South Carolina. His wife and daughters joined him there. Sergeant Ecklund most likely was a physical education instructor there.
In the early 1960s, Marine Corps recruit training was a demanding twelve-week transformation designed to strip away civilian habits and instill absolute discipline, physical endurance, and combat readiness. Recruits lived under constant supervision by drill instructors who emphasized instant obedience, close-order drill, spotless hygiene, and strict attention to detail. Training included rifle marksmanship, bayonet practice, hand-to-hand combat drills, field exercises, swimming, and instruction in Marine Corps history and customs. Physical conditioning was rigorous, centering on distance running, calisthenics, obstacle courses, and endurance marches. As the Vietnam conflict escalated, field training increasingly stressed small-unit tactics and preparation for jungle warfare, reinforcing the Marine Corps’ identity as a combat-ready expeditionary force.
Sometimes wounded Marines counted the days to discharge and
avoided high demand roles, but following his return to the US and recovery from
his injuries, Gary volunteered for the Advanced Physical Training course at the
Marine Corps Base in Quantico. This was not a routine posting; Quantico was the
intellectual and leadership centre of the Marine Corps. Marines who volunteered
for this programme did so because they had seen what a lack of preparation cost
in combat and they believed that physical fitness directly affected survival. Volunteering for Quantico tells a lot about
Gary—that he still strongly identified as a Marine, he wanted responsibility
and, possibly shaped by what he had seen in Vietnam, he wanted to help prepare
others physically for service
Marines accepted to this Quantico training were highly motivated, physically elite, and trusted by their command. Volunteering for Quantico also meant Gary had recovered well enough to be considered physically fit. (This matters because most wounded Marines were medically discharged, reassigned to limited duty or prevented from advanced physical roles.) Discipline problems, marginal performers, unpromotable or unpromising Marines were not approved for Quantico training; Gary’s selection meant he had strong recommendations, was physically fit, was reliable under pressure and showed leadership potential.
All Marines, especially in the 1960s, maintained high physical
standards. Regular units conducted daily physical training, long conditioning
hikes (“humps”) with full gear, weapon drills, field exercise; a line Marine
was already operating at a high level of physical demand. The Advanced Training
course, was more than maintaining this fitness; it was about mastering and
teaching it. It was a demanding instructor-level programme, not an ordinary unit exercise. The pace and expectations were high and with a strong emphasis on
endurance, obstacle proficiency, conditioning theory and leadership under
stress. Participants were being prepared to return to their units as specialists
in physical training.
Waterborne training was a standard part of Marine
preparation in the Vietnam era; it was designed to simulate river crossings and
amphibious operations under realistic conditions. Exercises were often
conducted in cold, fast-moving water and while wearing heavy gear, which
significantly increased the risk if a Marine entered the water.
The accident happened on the late afternoon of March 6 1968.
Gary was training with an instructor and seven other hand-picked students. All
were expert swimmers who had just completed a 20 hour course on water survival “to
develop the capability for survival in the event of a water accident under all
foreseeable circumstances and…to certify all students as drownproof.” Five were Vietnam vets. The emphasis was on
teamwork. They were in the ninth week of
their twelve week course.
The mission on March 6th was a simple 4 ½ mile canoe paddle on a
cool sunny day; the river was described as relatively calm with a current of 3
knots.
The Potomac River was 36 ° F (2 ° C). Two days before, the team
had supposedly practised capsizing and reentering the same 26 long canoe. On
March 6, the men had been paddling hard for about 30 minutes. They were likely
about a mile from shore when they tumbled into the ice water. All men were
wearing light military clothing, full-length sweat suits, red bathing trunks
and tennis shoes. They had not strapped on life preservers as they were too
cumbersome when paddling; instead the preservers were in the bottom of the
canoe serving as cushions for the men’s knees.
It’s not known why the men did not get back into the canoe,
which they could have done in a minute. It is, however, suggested that they
might not have tried and that perhaps the instructor had ordered them to swim
to shore; they would have instantly obeyed his orders.
Maximum survival time in this cold water was two hours, although a half hour is more likely. Over 300 men searched all night; the next day scuba divers checked the river’s mouth; dragging operations began.
Their wooden canoe was recovered the next day, six miles downstream
along with several paddles and life preservers. The first body was located 18
hours after the accident. Gary Ecklund’s body was recovered two weeks later. The
last body was found over a month later.
A Court of Inquiry was held. It learned that the team had
never drilled on capsizing and righting a canoe; the technique was covered in
class but the actual drill was dropped during winter months because of cold
water. During the 1960s, the Marine
Corps accepted a high level of risk in training, believing realism was
essential to combat readiness.
Sgt. Ecklund’s death was classified as a line-of-duty
training accident rather than a combat casualty, which explains the limited
public documentation.
Gary Ecklund was buried at Fort Snelling National Cemetery.
Comments
Post a Comment