Remembering a Fallen Hero on Memorial Day

The United States has fought twelve major wars and numerous smaller skirmishes in its history. Memorial Day is how we honor the soldiers, sailors, airmen, airwomen, marines, and coast guardsmen who did not return home. The holiday dates back to the months immediately following the Civil War when a few towns and cities began honoring their dead. In 1868, General John A. Logan—at the time the head of an organization for Union veterans, later a U.S. senator from Illinois, and the man for whom Logan Circle in Washington, DC, is named—called for May 30 to be designated “Decoration Day.” He said the purpose would be for “strewing with flowers or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country during the late rebellion.” With America’s entry into World War I, the purpose of the holiday shifted to honor all Americans who died fighting in the nation’s wars. The term “Decoration Day” increasingly gave way to “Memorial Day,” a switch that Congress enshrined in law in 1967. The following year, Congress decreed that, as of 1971, Memorial Day is to be commemorated on the last Monday in May.

Long-time readers of The Water’s Edge know that for a dozen Memorial Days now I have told the stories of service members who were awarded the Medal of Honor, the nation’s highest award for bravery, for making the ultimate sacrifice. This year I am breaking with that tradition to tell the story of just one American who fell on the field of battle. He was not awarded a Medal of Honor. But as I am reminded by Stories Behind the Stars, the epic effort to remember every one of the more than 400,000 Americans who died in World War II, the story of every service member who gave their life for their country deserves to be told—and remembered.

Corporal Charles McMahon, Jr. was born on May 10, 1953. He was raised in Woburn, Massachusetts, a town ten miles northwest of Boston. Growing up, “Charlie” did things typical for his time and place—he had a tree fort, rode bikes, delivered newspapers, and mowed lawns. He was a regular at the Woburn Boys’ Club, where he excelled at swimming and diving. He mentored younger kids, so much so that he was named “Boy of the Year” in 1971. His time at the Woburn Boys’ Club also shaped his aspirations. The club’s director was a former Marine who fought in in the Korean War, was awarded a Purple Heart, and regaled his young charges with his exploits.

In January 1974, McMahon enlisted in the Marines. It was not the choice most young Americans were making. A year earlier, the United States had ended the military draft and signed the Paris Peace Accords, terminating U.S. combat in Vietnam. Most Americans wanted to put the war in the rearview mirror; volunteering for military service was more likely to elicit surprise than applause.

McMahon excelled in boot camp and was selected for Marine Security Guard School. After completing his training, he was assigned to the U.S. embassy in Saigon. He reported for duty on April 18, 1975. South Vietnam was fighting to repel a major, and ultimately successful, North Vietnamese assault. McMahon was assigned to provide security for the Defense Attaché Office compound next door to Saigon’s Tan Son Nhut airbase. His superiors saw it as a relatively safe assignment for someone who has just arrived “in country.” It wasn’t.

On 3:30 a.m. on April 29, just eleven days after McMahon arrived in Saigon, North Vietnamese rockets began to pound Tan Son Nhut. One rocket hit the post where McMahon and Lance Corporal Darwin Judge of Marshalltown, Iowa, held watch. They likely died instantly. McMahon was just shy of his twenty-second birthday. Judge was nineteen.

McMahon and Judge were the last American servicemen to die in Vietnam. The U.S. embassy in South Vietnam was evacuated the next day as North Vietnamese troops poured into Saigon and the South Vietnamese government surrendered. Despite the U.S. military’s legendary commitment to leave no one behind, McMahon’s and Judge’s bodies were lost in the confusion. It took another year and the persistent diplomatic efforts of Massachusetts Senator Edward Kennedy before the bodies of both men were returned stateside for burial.

McMahon was the thirteenth serviceman from Woburn to die in Vietnam and one of more than 1,400 from Massachusetts. Today, the Boys and Girls Club of Woburn—it was renamed in 1996—has a wall honoring McMahon’s sacrifice. The club also awards scholarships annually to two Boys and Girls Club members in his name. You can make a gift to the Boys and Girls Club of Woburn here.

I was finishing my sophomore year in high school in a neighboring town when I read that Corporal Charles “Charlie” McMahon, Jr. had died. I have thought of him often in the half century since. I occasionally walk from my Washington, DC, office to visit the Vietnam Veterans Memorial on the mall. His name is inscribed on Panel 1W, Line 124. He is a young man whom I never met but will never forget.

Other posts in this series: 

Remembering Those Whom Memorial Day Honors (2023)

Remembering Those Whom Memorial Day Honors (2022) 

Remembering Those Whom Memorial Day Honors (2021) 

Remembering Those Whom Memorial Day Honors (2020) 

Remembering Those Memorial Day Honors (2019) 

Remembering Those Memorial Day Honors (2018) 

Remembering Whom Memorial Day Honors (2017) 

TWE Remembers: Memorial Day (2016) 

TWE Remembers: Memorial Day (2014) 

TWE Remembers: Memorial Day (2013) 

TWE Remembers: Memorial Day (2012) 

Sinet Adous and Michelle Kurilla assisted in the preparation of this post.