My name is John Bachor, and I am a Vietnam Veteran.

My Father served during WW2 as a flight Engineer and mechanic on a C47 Troop carrier, in the 435th Troop Carrier Group. He released Gliders over Normandy and a few other places. He did a lot. My Mother and Father moved to California from Little Neck New York when I six years old and divorced shortly after. I didn’t see or hear from my father until I was 23 years old. I had already come back from Vietnam, and did not want to hear anything about war. I had a very bad taste in my mouth about everything, everything.

I was looking forward to a career in automotive racing when I got drafted. I served with the 20th Engineer Brigade, 36th Engineer Battalion during 1967 and 1968. My MOS. was Wheel Vehicle Mechanic. I was the second enlisted person stationed in the 36th and was placed in Headquarters Company. I was a PFC. Sometime later, a motor pool Sergeant was assigned to our company and then another PFC added, to finish off the motor pool personnel neither of who were as proficient as I was as a mechanic. Before the Army I was involved in Drag Racing, engine building and general chassis tuning. I had much more knowledge in automobiles then they did. I also set up all of the parts procurement paper work. The Sergeant didn’t have much to do, so he wasn’t around much. “Headquarters Co.” and “B” Co. shared the same building. “B” Co. was a heavy equipment service company. I spent most of my time there because we had many very large wheeled heavy equipment vehicles. While in Vietnam, I spent most of my time at the “B” Co. shop. On our way to Vietnam, our ship stopped in Okinawa for refueling, the Sergeant missed the ship upon leaving. I never saw him again.

I’m not sure when I first came into contact with Agent Orange. It might have been when a Huey flew overhead spraying, what was called Mosquito repellant. But there were so many lies, or they just didn’t know. One day, an Officer, a (Captain) asked if I could put together a portable high pressure washer to remove “that sticky stuff” off of the equipment, and I said “sure”. About a week later, we tried it out by what we thought was an old rice patty that had water in it. Well, it worked great with water all over the place with us getting good and wet also. So, others came to wash “that sticky stuff” off of their vehicles and equipment. Then, one day, some one with some brains, noticed what was being done. They stopped the operation and informed the guys, “That was our Base Camp water supply”. So, we ate it, showered in it, brushed our teeth with it, cooks mixed our dried milk with it, potatoes and so on. Now we know what it was, “DOWS AGENT ORANGE”.

The worst part for me was when I got off of the plane in Oakland, California. My reception back home was filled with rocks, bottles, piss bags, hollers, and Berkley students calling us baby killers. My Mother asked me why I even came home. As far as my readjusting in returning home, I don’t know if I ever did…

I have a number of health issues, including three Heart Attacks. I have always been healthy and worked hard. The first Heart Attack was in 2002. I continued working at my regular job and kept up with my hiking, and photography until the second Heart Attack in 2010, which caused me to be disabled. Then, on Christmas Day 2011, I had the third Heart Attack, which took 47% of my Heart, (LVF). After 2002 my (METS) level was (2.78). I should have received a 100% disability rating at that time, but the VA only gave me 10%. I have been fighting with the VA for 2 1/2 years now.

After the 2002 Heart Attack, I started looking for others with the same problems that I had. I found many, way too many. I started going to Veterans support groups. I have “PTSD” also. Then I noticed there were a few members in our group that had Purple Hearts. Now, don’t get me wrong, I honor and respect those that have been awarded that very special medal, but since I can’t go hiking and do my photography, like I once could, I’m too sick and weak to go climbing around the outback. But the Purple Heart recipients, for the most part can still do it, plus they will probably live longer then I will. I wondered why couldn’t we, (those afflicted with Agent Orange) have a medal to show our wounds. To some degree, we died forty some years ago, it just hasn’t caught up with most of us yet…

My cousin Joyce encouraged me a few years ago to design an image of an Orange Heart Medal, then we could have it placed on t-shirts and other products, to get the word out. We decided on (Cafe Press) to do the work, and by doing this we would receive about 10% of the sale in profits, then we could share with the Vet’s and their families in need to help make their lives a little better.

Well, mostly because of Joyce’s bubbly personality, and all of her friends and past experiences, this is getting bigger then we thought it would. Now, to create more awareness of our cause, and give honor to our Agent Orange afflicted Veterans, we have a design and plan to have a beautiful Agent Orange Monument erected in Eisenhower Park, East Meadow, long Island, New York. The group photo is my team. We need your support and welcome your visits and donations @ agentorangeawareness.org

I have made many friends because of this cause.
~ John Bachor, Vietnam Veteran

We are very grateful to John for sharing his service and story and wish him all the best with AgentOrangeAwareness.org.

God Bless all who serve and keep us safe.
www.VietnamAndBeyond.com

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