Legionnaire Stories

Tuesday, November 11, 1969, is etched forever in Miles Epling's mind.

Legionnaire Epling had gone from being a robust rifleman in the Marines to a double amputee. Six days before, he had been released from the Veterans Hospital in Philadelphia.

Now, he was sitting in his kitchen in Point Pleasant, West Virginia, wondering what he was going to do with the rest of his life.

"I got out on a Wednesday. That Friday, one of the World War II vets from the local Post stopped by the house. He looked me over, and simply said, 'Miles, what are you doing?'

"I kind of hemmed and hawed, and then he invited me down to the Post home for a Veterans Day celebration that next Tuesday.

"The date was 11/11/69. I've been involved with the American Legion ever since," he said.

Legionnaire Epling's single tour of Vietnam gave him a lifetime view of the VA hospital system. A double leg amputee, he's also had transplant surgery several years ago, and continues to receive care through the West Virginia VA health care system.

"It's the best care in the country," says Mr. Epling. "The doctors and nurses, they're excellent, especially at Huntington (VA). Its affiliation with Marshall University Medical School greatly benefits the VA hospital there. As a patient, you get the benefit of the latest techniques and procedures."

But first-class care is only half the battle.

Epling is well aware of the financial strains extended care can put on a family, and the need for support not only for the veteran, but also for his or her loved ones, too.

As a National Commander, he visited Legionnaires all across the country. His testimony was even sought by Congress regarding his perspectives on issues concerning veterans.

Today, he's the Department Adjutant for the Department of West Virginia, with responsibility for 108 American Legion Posts. Part of his day-to-day duties is as a liaison for Legionnaires with the Legionnaire Insurance Trust (LIT), helping to process special claims and enrollments.

Though the Department enrolls several hundred Legionnaires each year in the $1,000.00 No Cost Accident Entitlement, Mr. Epling gets involved in only a few.

And the reasons, he says, usually boil down to two.

"First of all, the Department wants to make sure you get your $1,000.00 cash entitlement. It's a gift from the Department to you, in appreciation for your membership.

"However, you have to sign the form to get it; insurance law says we can't just give it to you. So often," Mr. Epling says, "I get involved simply because LIT asks me to track down a fellow Legionnaire for his autograph."

But for him, it's the second reason that really puts the value of the entitlement into perspective.

"It's a claim. A vet has died, and the family needs to file for benefits. But they can't find the paperwork. The LIT has always been good about helping as much as they can, but we need to have proof of enrollment," he says.

That's why Mr. Epling is so vigilant about enrolling new Legionnaires for the no-cost entitlement.

"I see all too often what that extra cash can mean for a family," he says.

His suggestions to his fellow Legionnaires are straightforward about their benefit entitlements.

1. Make sure you sign your enrollment forms;
2. Make sure you keep your receipts, and tell your family where you've filed them.

Should you check out other programs offered by LIT?

Mr. Epling says it depends on your circumstances. But each LIT program available to you has been developed by your Department according to the need of its members.

"I've been enrolled in a couple of LIT-sponsored plans for several years," he says.

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Jim Buterbaugh knows all about calculating risk. As an independent insurance agent in Winfield, Kansas, his livelihood depends on it.  But it wasn't so very long ago he lived it, as a Petty Officer on the destroyer U.S.S. Ellison.

In 1966, the Ellison was one of the first U.S. destroyers from the East coast to be dispatched to Vietnam. Its duty was threefold: to protect the Vietnamese coast, to protect the planes on American aircraft carriers, and to protect the entrance to Da Nang harbor.

His most enduring memory of Vietnam is of one night in heavy seas, when all hell broke loose.

In the storm, two destroyers collided. The Combat Information Center (CIC) quickly dispatched a helicopter rescue. But that, too, was ill-fated.

The first bird went down trying to pluck seamen out of the roiling waves, and a second was called out to continue the operation. The Ellison searched all night, its large spotlights roving hour after hour over the water.

"There were five crewmen we never did find," he says.

Tour of a Different Nature

Soon after, the Ellison returned to Norfolk, VA, for an overhaul. From there, the ship embarked on a goodwill tour of South

America, Africa, and the Middle East. Ports of call activities included soccer games with the locals.

"We always lost," says Buterbaugh. "But we always drew a big crowd. And we certainly had a lot of fun as goodwill ambassadors."

His goodwill tour included a stop in Ethiopia, at that time ruled by Emperor Haile Selassie I. Protocol was paramount. To his subjects, the emperor's coronation itself was seen as the fulfillment of the Biblical prophecy "kings would come out of Africa."

In port with the Ellison that day were two other vessels: one from Britain and another from Pakistan. But while the British and Pakistani ships were equipped for visiting dignitaries, the Ellison was not.

However, the crew figured they could still rig up an impressive 21-gun welcoming salute. They'd simply "half load" the powder in the Ellison's deadly 5 inch guns.

With soldiers in crisp dress uniforms lining the roadway, the Emperor's motorcade soon roared in regal flag-waving splendor up the route.

And right on cue, the Ellison's guns began booming.

Windows shattered, buildings shook, and the honor guard ran for cover. To save the harbor, Legionnaire Buterbaugh recalls, "We didn't finish the salute."

Uneasy Scenery

It was a very different salute Legionnaire Buterbaugh received from Ethiopia's wild interior.

One day he was part of a contingent that went countryside, up into the mountains. Beside the usual assortment of passengers and cargo, each train had posted armed guards. At the first mountain pass, Buterbaugh saw why.

"You could see bandits, with guns in hand, lining the mountaintops," he recalls. "We were lucky - no one attacked our train that day."

The American Legion's Legacy

To meet him today, you wouldn't think he was ever a shy farm boy from Harbor Creek, Pennsylvania. He's served the American Legion in several capacities: Post Commander, District Commander, and National Historian.  In 2004, Jim was appointed by Kansas governor Kathleen Sebelius to the Kansas Commission on Veteran's Affairs.

But he credits these years as a Legionnaire with helping him build the confidence to face the most feared risk of all - public speaking!

"Just like military service, you meet people from all over," he says of the American Legion. "That's because the Legion accepts you for who you are."