Two Brothers and A Covenant: Honoring the Service and Friendship of John L. Adams & Gary L. Frazier
- Keelan Adams
- 6 days ago
- 6 min read
Updated: 1 day ago
Not too long ago my wife and I provided an opportunity for our daughter to go on a school trip to Washington D.C. We knew that we did not want her to go alone so I accompanied her as a parent and chaperone. We visited a number of places in and around the capital, also George Washington’s Mt. Vernon. One of my most memorable moments was the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. There is a reason why.
The date was August 22, 1970. Adams and Frazier two best friends from the south—Adams, a native of Washington County, AL and Frazier of Mississippi—were among a platoon of other young American troops as they were all huddled in their army hooch at Phuoc Vinh Base Camp. They were 1st Air Calvary (E of the 82nd Airborne). Adams and Frazier had a friendship like no other. To say they simply trusted each other would be an understatement. They were more like close brothers, inseparable. Up until that time at only age 21, both Adams and Frazier were fathers of children back home in the United States. The intensity of the battles and guerrilla attacks continuously caused them to have the lingering thought of their
own demise in their minds on a daily basis. This led them to make a covenant with each other. Whoever made it out alive from the terrors of the Vietnam War and back home safely would be the person to ensure the wellbeing of the children of the deceased friend.
As a platoon, the young troops retired from their daily tasks and were on standby from their superiors. One young fellow, who showed how much he deeply longed to be back home in America, decided to bring out his guitar and strum a rather familiar song. As he entertained his comrades, tears began to slowly trickle down his face. All of the soldiers were caught in the moment as they too began reminiscing about home as he tearfully sang:
Down the road along came Mary
Hair of gold and lips like cherries [sic][1]
Suddenly, he stopped strumming and yelled, “Incoming!” Viet Cong mortars began raining on the encampments of the young American soldiers. It all seemed too quick with little time to take cover. But just as the Viet Cong (VC) and North Vietnam Army (NVA), both of whom were opposing forces to the Americans, had several miles of underground tunnels throughout the country, the Americans also had smaller underground channels to which they referred to as bunkers near the sandbag entrance of each hooch. With as much effort as possible, the American soldiers dove into their bunkers as the powerful blasts from the mortar shells interrupted base operations with an abrupt flare. Sadly, someone above ground was down. A name was called. At this daunting moment, there was someone in the bunker who was afraid that one of his greatest fears had become reality.
While the threat was extremely high with the very mortar shells still dropping on the camp, Adams alone emerged from the bunker. There lied the lifeless body of his best friend Frazier covered from head to toe in shrapnel without shedding a single trace of blood. As Adams reflected on the adrenaline-intense moment, all he could remember was running directly behind Frazier, seemingly inches away from him, and then diving into the bunker entrance. While seeing his best friend lying there, it was then he noticed that Frazier’s body fully shielded him from the deadly metal shards that were ejected from the VC mortar shells. How could this happen so quickly, so abruptly? How could the life of one so young expire without being given the chance to be a present father to his children, grow old and enjoy his family, friend, and live out the longings and aspirations of his soul? After all, he did not choose the war. The war chose him, for he was drafted into service at the tender age of 18. These questions and thoughts are those that cause soldiers who survived the vicious battlefields of the Vietnam War to yield that all-too-familiar response, “War is hell.”
For years my brothers and I had heard about this story Dad shared regarding his friend. To me, he always seemed as if he was an uncle of mine who deceased before my birth. However, I was determined to pay my respects to Uncle Gary. As my daughter and her school group made their way through the World War II Memorial and ventured west just a few hundred meters away to a large, dark granite wall adjacent to the Lincoln Memorial Reflective Pool, we had arrived at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. I ensured my daughter was under close watch through one of the other chaperones and with her friends as I gracefully dismissed myself from the larger group to see the name of my father’s best friend, war buddy, and to reflect on the man who saved my father’s life.
I first made my way to the directory books. They were quite thorough, so I needed some assistance with a middle name for accuracy. I called my mother back in Alabama to ascertain the full name of my father’s friend. As I nervously thumbed through the directory again, there it was, “Army—SP4 Frazier, Gary Lee (wall panel W8/130—casualty 22 Aug 70).”
I approached the wall and passed by several thousands of names all of whom have a unique story of giving their lives to preserve American freedom during such tumultuous time in our nation. After walking a few hundred feet, I scanned section W8/130 twice and could not find the name. I calmed myself and scanned a third time with much more care. Tears filled my eyes as I came to a halt and gazed upon his name while my face simultaneously reflected from the colossal granite mirror. From the time of Uncle Gary’s death until walking the memorial wall marked 53 years.
Did Adams fulfill his portion of the covenant between he and his friend while they were on the battlefield? Yes. After spending several years working through phonebook directories and searching burial records, he located the burial place in Mississippi and located Frazier’s family.
This story shows the deep nature of friendship and how souls can be knit together even well after the sting of death brings about the painful separation that it does. There are perhaps thousands more of these kinds of stories that have yet to be told. Our hope is that by sharing this story of Adams and Frazier other war veterans will continue to share their experiences that occurred during their time serving the country on the dangerous battlefields around the globe in hopes that it may promote healing and also shed greater light on such delicate part of America’s history. We are glad that we can preserve and share this story with the world as Adams was the only one of the two who was afforded the opportunity to again touch the green, green grass of home.
Dad, thanks to you and the late Uncle Gary for your service in the U.S. Army. Also, thank you for showing your children over these many years a solid example of true friendship and keeping one's word.
To our service men and women, we appreciate all you do and all you have done to ensure our freedom in the United States of America!
Finally, thanks to our very own at Montgomery Deep History, my wife and co-founder Tracey Adams who continues to boldly serve in the United States military.
John L. Adams Sr., a great grandson of Mr. Benjamin Franklin Fields of Sunflower, AL, is a resident of the state of Alabama. Mr. Adams spent three years serving in Vietnam and did have exposure to Agent Orange. As seen above, his status during the mortar attack was the following:
Crew Chief
E 82nd Airborne Division
1st Air Cavalry
Phuoc Vinh Base Camp, Vietnam
III Corps | Tactical Zone D
Coordinates
11°17'58.8"N 106°47'41.5"E
Note: If you are a Vietnam War veteran who served around this same time at the same base and would like to get in touch with Mr. John L. Adams, please leave a comment below or message Montgomery Deep History at montgomerydeephistorytours@gmail.com.
[1] Tom Jones. "Green, Green Grass of Home"1967.
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