Gerald Schultz: A Son’s Reflection

On Facebook, Gerald Schultz’s son, Daniel, has posted a picture of a visit he made to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall. He stands in front of his father’s name, and you can see the reflection of the son in the Wall.

“Here at the Vietnam Wall. Found my dad’s name,” wrote Schultz, 47. “I am so proud to be his son. The emotions ran high.”

Daniel Schultz posted this picture of his father's name on the wall. Courtesy of Daniel Schultz.
Daniel Schultz posted this picture of his father’s name on the wall. Courtesy of Daniel Schultz.

A name—and a photo—are about all that Schultz’s son has of his father because he was so young when the Wisconsin native died in Vietnam in 1969. He doesn’t even really have memories.

In Washington D.C., the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall proudly displays the names of 58,286 of our nation’s service members; one of those names is Gerald Wayne Shultz, of Beloit, Wis.

Gerald Schultz was a Wisconsin native who tragically lost his life in Vietnam on March 3 1969. Fast-forward 46 years later, and this Marine’s story seemed to have perished with him in the line of duty.

On a search to find the missing faces of all those lost during the war, Schultz proved harder to find than most. During a rigorous hunt to find the face behind the name, a story of a man known to many as pops began to evolve.

Schultz was born March 25, 1942. He was a lifelong resident of Beloit and worked for the city sanitation department before entering the Marine Corps in the summer of 1967. Before leaving to serve his country, he married Patricia Ann Walsh, and the couple had two sons.

After receiving news of her husband’s death, his grieving wife packed up their family and moved away. Today, Daniel Schultz, Gerald’s only living son, resides in Niagara Falls, New York where he has two children of his own.

“I don’t remember much about my father; I was very young when he died,” said Daniel.

Gerald Schultz photo obtained by Krista Flentje.
Gerald Schultz photo obtained by Krista Flentje.

Daniel may not have been lucky enough to personally know the man he calls dad, but he takes comfort in the fact that there is a place he can go to remember him.  Knowing his father’s name is eternally etched into the three-acre Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall brings Daniel great pride.

Daniel isn’t the only one who thanks the Wall for reconnecting with Schultz. Peter Beyer also found himself looking to the memorial for consolation.

Beyer, a fellow service member, who had the privilege of marching alongside Schultz in Vietnam, says he thanks the Wall for bringing them back together. One summer when the traveling Wall was in Long Island, Beyer found himself searching the names for the man he remembers as ‘pops.’

“He was called pops because he was older than everybody but the 1st sergeant,” remembers Beyer.

Beyer didn’t even know Schultz’s real name until that summer when he says, “a very helpful person with computer and a lot of patience using what scant and erroneous information I remembered, found it. I cried.”

Frank Adair, another fellow Marinem remembers the man everyone called ‘pops’ as well. He too has found himself at the Wall searching for his friend’s name.

Adair remembers the day Schultz died as clear as yesterday. He recalls, “the bases were overrun, Golf Company was helicoptered in to the general area for a three-day operation…which lasted 68 days!”

He says on March 3, 1969, they were climbing mountainous terrain, at which time they were “locked and loaded.”

“Meaning we had our weapons charged with ammunition in the chamber,” adds Adair.

Beyer remembers this story all too well, “It was a beautiful sunny day. We were headed up a mountain, and he was ahead of me in the column.”

It was then that the man they knew as ‘pops’ accidently discharged his weapon while slipping, ultimately striking him with the round.

Both Adair and Beyer remember stopping and clearing for a medevac chopper on the side of the mountain, but Schultz was gone before the chopper could lift him off the ground.

“He didn’t make it. I didn’t cry then; I was too worried about what was up that mountain,” said Beyer.

Both men say that it was after this incident that they were made to clear their weapons, so another tragic incident would not occur. Beyer and Adair say the one comfort they can take in Schultz’s demise is that his mistake may have spared countless lives in the process.

“We somehow, knew and felt, that after this incident things would not get better and they didn’t,” said Beyer.

Schultz’s death is just one of the many the men remember from that war and both vow that even today they would switch places with anyone of those men in a heartbeat.

Since they can’t change what happened that fateful day, or any other day back in that jungle, they choose instead to look at the Wall for comfort. A Wall that brings them ease knowing ‘pop’s’ name and the thousands of other brave souls who served will always live on.