Elisabeth Heslop
Ivan Clifford Broeffle was born in Emo, killed in Vietnam, and has lain in an unmarked grave in the Emo Cemetery for the 41 years since.
But on Saturday, between ranks of fluttering flags, a service was held there to pay tribute to the sacrifice Broeffle made while serving with the U.S. Army and dedicate the plaque now marking his grave.
Broeffle’s sister, Ida Colgan of Mine Centre, said it’s a relief to finally have the marker in place.
The original plaque from the U.S. Army was supposed to follow his body, which was recovered from Vietnam and buried in Emo, but somehow it got lost in the mail.
“It didn’t make it over the border,” Colgan noted.
“We wrote letters and made calls, and then I just kind of gave up.
“He didn’t have a marker and we felt bad about it,” she added.
“We even thought about putting in one of our own but we decided that no, that wouldn’t be right either.”
Last fall, Hal and Maddy Laffin, with the Canadian Vietnam Veterans Association, were riding through the district and went to visit Broeffle’s grave.
When they discovered it was unmarked aside from a large stone marking the corner of the family plot, they tracked down his sister, got her the proper paperwork, and then helped her get it to the proper channels.
Colgan received the marker earlier this year. As soon as the ground was dry enough, she had it put in place and then planned a small service to commemorate it.
But what Colgan had planned to be a small service became something else entirely.
Word spread from person to person and the result was that representatives of the Canadian Vietnam Veterans Association, the Fort Frances Royal Canadian Legion, the Minnesota Patriot Guard, the Kenora-based Hindenburg Line unit of the Canadian Army Veteran Motorcycle Units, and the White Earth Tribal Honor Guard all gathered at the Emo Cemetery on Saturday to pay their respects to a man that few, if any, of them knew.
“It was an amazing sight,” said Bill Maidens, president of the Hindenburg Line C.A.V. unit. “I was overwhelmed when I got there.
“The support for this fellow was just amazing, and I didn’t know him.”
Maidens said five members of the C.A.V. rode their motorcycles down from Kenora to attend the service. He added that once he found out about it, his decision was made.
“I was going. It didn’t matter one way or the other, rain or shine, I was going,” he stressed.
“I promised them I was going to be there and if I was there by myself soaking wet, I’d be there.”
Broeffle was only 21 when his tour of duty began March 2, 1968. He was a rifle infantryman in Bravo Company, 2nd Battalion, 1st Infantry Regiment, 196 Infantry Brigade.
He had served for 68 days when his scouting party walked into a North Vietnamese booby trap in Quang Tri province of South Vietnam.
Badly wounded himself, Broeffle went from man to man, offering aid to his comrades, until he succumbed to his own wounds and died on the battlefield May 9, 1968.
His actions earned him the Bronze Star Medal for “heroism in ground combat,” the Purple Heart for “wounds received in action in Vietnam resulting in his death,” and a posthumous promotion from Private First Class to Corporal.
“He thought that he was helping the people over there,” Colgan said of her brother’s reasons for joining up. “Communism was taking over Vietnam and he thought he could help to keep freedom over there.”
In letters to his sister, Broeffle talked about his experiences and feelings while waging war in the jungles of southeast Asia.
“War is a nasty business and I’ll be so glad to get out of here,” he wrote in one letter. “Sis, I feel so funny every time I pull the trigger.
“Someone once told me I would get used to it, but I don’t think so.”
Later in that letter, he spoke about his faith.
“People don’t realize how much your soul needs God,” he wrote. “I need him to live from one day to another.
“I don’t really live for tomorrow for it may never come. The sun may not rise for me the next day.”
He wrote about the day-to-day happenings, of his concerns for his family back home, and of his eagerness to finish his tour of duty and return home.
He sent money back for the car he wanted to buy, and asked for specific canned and packaged foods that would be easier to carry in his pack.
He told of the boredom of long, hot hours in rain-filled fox holes and of the first time he killed a man.
“Sis, I feel kinda sick but it was either him or me,” he wrote. “I killed my first human and I hated it.
“No, I don’t like this crazy war, but it is my present job and I’ll do my best, Sis.”
Even though Broeffle hated some aspects of his life as a soldier, he didn’t lose sight of the reason he was there.
“Over here I’m doing something that is necessary and I feel very proud to be able to say I helped,” he wrote to his family. “Sure, it is pure hell here, and hot. It is a dangerous country.
“Letters I love to get because I know someone cares that I am over here fighting for them. I’m not fighting for me, but for those whom I love,” he added.
“If anything ever happens to me, don’t feel bad, but be forever proud that I served for the good of mankind.”
