Red, White & Blue: Life of a Warrior

By Michael Dean Moomey

Jake Lewis was nine years old when his father began beating him with a leather strap. He joined the Navy on his seventeenth birthday. After boot camp, he experienced the wonders of the Far East as a seaman on the USS Henry W. Tucker. He met the finest geisha girls in Japan and the most beautiful Chinese girls in Hong Kong. The nights spent with Taiwanese girls are forever on his mind.
A year and a half later Jake attended the Navy Special Warfare Training at Coronado Naval Base. He was flown with twenty-eight others to South Vietnam. They were assigned to the CIA for three years. These special operations teams traveled throughout the southeastern Asian jungles.
Jake also served his country for twenty-five years as a U.S. Special Agent. Jake and seven other Vietnam veterans were hired to kill America’s most violent criminals. Inspired by actual events, this novel is filled with adventure and lessons on what it means to fight for freedom. The CIA then used him for thirteen years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Sep 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781480892996

Michael Dean Moomey

Michael Dean Moomey is seventy-two years old and comes from a military family. He and his brother answered the call to serve during the Vietnam War. He spent over four years with the Navy, and much of that time was in combat. He is a decorated Vietnam veteran and was employed by the federal government for thirty-eight years. He is also an ordained minister who has shared the Word of God with Death row inmates. He lives in Northern Arizona with his wife. He has seven children and eight grandchildren.

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Copyright © 2020 Michael Dean Moomey.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

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Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Scripture quotations marked (NLT) are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2007 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission

Scripture taken from the Contemporary English Version © 1991, 1992, 1995 by American Bible Society. Used by Permission.

ISBN: 978-1-4808-9298-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-9297-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-9299-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020913831

Archway Publishing rev. date: 11/26/2020

CONTENTS

Prologue

MY EARLY YEARS

Chapter One

VIETNAM WAR

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATIONS

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

DEATH ROW PRISON MINISTRY

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Epilogue

DEDICATION

FOR MY WIFE, KELLI MOOMEY, WHO HAS BEEN WITH ME FOR THE PAST twenty years. She continues to help me heal from the wounds caused by the Vietnam War. By the way, has run from our bedroom on numerous occasions due to my screams from the nightmares and terror. She is the love of my life. We will be together for eternity. I love my children and grandchildren. All of them. I am sorry that the Vietnam War affected your lives.

FOREWORD

THE FIRST IMPRESSION. THAT’S A PHRASE WE HAVE ALL USED OR HEARD from time to time. Was it used when you first tasted some new food that gave you the impression that this is what some people had lived with their whole lives? Perhaps it was the sight of something that you had never seen before, or you had only read or heard about. So what was your reaction? Did you say, Wow, or Huh? And then try to think how it made you look back on some things that you had experienced in life. Sometimes that first impression can be wrong. ’Cause on second thought, there are other things or past impressions that will affect how you process this new event. I fell into that line of thinking the first day I met Mike. When we were introduced I was told he was a Vietnam vet, and I thought, Great, we have something in common. I served there in the late 1960s, the same time Mike was there. But I heard a very small part of his story and saw the look on his face, and that told me there was more there, so much more. There are times when you encounter someone and you say to yourself, that person’s an open book. Well with Mike that book was still to be written. When anyone sets pen to paper or nowadays key strokes on a computer in order to write a novel, they have to draw upon the things they know about or perhaps have experienced in their lives. Mike’s life is the thing that makes us all think, WOW!! There is a great book or a movie there. Now remember, this is a novel not an autobiography, and the story is not centered on the past but upon what it leads to, and beyond. Thus, the end of this novel is just the beginning of what is to come. This book takes a load of baggage off of Mike, but that is letting him know that his load can be and is being carried by his Lord and Savior. Now the first impression you receive from Mike is one that will last a lifetime. Thus, this first impression has now become the lasting impression.

Ed Cain

MACV Team #3, Hue South Vietnam (1967-1968)

For Mike

A brother-in-arms—Now a brother in the Lord’s army

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

FIRST AND FOREMOST, IS TO MY WIFE, KELLI MOOMEY FOR HER ENcouragement and support during all the days and nights that we spent answering God’s call. She deserves so much praise for putting the book ahead of her needs. Thank you, sweet girl. Ed Cain for his kind and gracious words that are written on the book’s foreword. Ed was a true and courageous warrior in Vietnam. Go Army. He is the man. Cici Rogge and Candi Paine for their awesome job of editing the novel. Along with their encouragement and support throughout the writing process. Bob Rogge, Don Voakes, and John Anderson for their great support and friendship. Pastor Mike Ward for his faithful service to his flock. To all the Americans who love their flag, country, and God. This book is for you. Last but definitely not least, is to all military veterans of America. I salute you for your courage and devotion to our country. My brothers and sisters in law enforcement who put their lives in harm’s way each and every day serving their communities. The men and women who share God’s Word with the incarcerated.

I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me. … And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’" (Matthew 25:36, 40. NLT)

PROLOGUE

MY LIFE HAS CHANGED MANY TIMES IN MY SEVENTY-PLUS YEARS. I STILL remember all the things that happened during those years. I imagine most people can delineate the different periods in their lives.

My early life included good years and bad years. This determined the course of my life. Otherwise, I would not have become the man I was chosen to be. I have lived each stage of my life as best as I could. I kept believing that my destiny was important.

Children have the ability to adapt to life changes better than adults. My life at nine was changed from happiness and joy to fear and loneliness. This was not a thought or choice, it just occurred. Dad was changed from a loving parent to a child abuser. His life changed when he began hearing whispers from the dark ones. Remember, evil is all around us. My dad was an alcoholic with anger issues. This was not a good combination for a man with small children. Those who abuse children don’t look like monsters. They look like you, your neighbor, or your best friend.

My father joined the United States Army in 1942 when he was twenty-five years old. He was married with one child. He was with the 82nd Airborne Division when they parachuted into France in September 1944. He and several other paratroopers missed the drop zone. They were able to join up with the 82nd Division before they encountered the German Army. The first action for the 82nd occurred while hundreds of thousands of allied troops were landing at Normandy: they stopped the German reinforcements from joining the assault on allied forces. Later, they received orders to parachute behind enemy lines in Holland to attack the Germans waiting to ambush American troops. He was wounded during combat and returned home a different person.

My life to age nine was wonderful. I loved playing sports with my friends. Any game was good for me: football, basketball, or baseball. Dad and Mom always made a big deal about birthdays, and we always went to Griffith Park to ride the roller coaster. I loved my life as a child. Do you know the saying, Easy come, easy go? Man, isn’t that the truth!

My father began drinking heavily when I was nine years old. He was always unhappy that they had a second child. Mom never told me the reason. Then he stopped coming home for dinner. This wasn’t something that was supposed to happen in 1956. My mom, my brother, and I were happy during dinners without him. We were usually in bed before he got home. Dad scared all of us. Do you know why we do the awful things we do? We are blind to the truth. Dad’s punishment for me was whipping me from my back to my knees with a leather strap. This was his preferred weapon. I screamed from the first hit to the last. I was never able to count the number of times that I was hit. I still wonder why my brother was not physically abused by Dad. I didn’t go to school for a couple of days after I was punished. I had a hard time moving about. The teachers knew something was wrong but never asked me. There were no block walls around backyards in Tucson, Arizona. The neighbor’s windows were always open. No one ever called the police to report the screaming next door. How could this happen? I believe evil has and will always exist. The 1950s were like all other decades: nothing but pain and suffering.

I’ve had very few friends since my ninth birthday. I was an average student before my life changed. I had girlfriends, but after the beatings began, this ended. I was sixteen during my junior year of high school and missed more days of school than I attended. I was a fucking mess. My brother left home after he graduated from high school. My buddy and I began hitchhiking to Nogales Mexico while we were still in high school. Our parents thought we were staying at each other’s homes. This guy was like me, screwed up in the head. We would get to Nogales late Saturday morning and stay until Sunday afternoon. We did not sleep while on this journey. We stayed in a Nogales whorehouse. The things we did and saw were amazing for teenage boys. We went to Nogales so often the border patrol agents and the ladies of the night knew our names.

I earned a good living picking up empty soda bottles. I took them to Neb’s Market to receive cash for my work. I began this business at nine years old. I never told my brother about my money or the girly magazines. He would have taken everything. Then the trips to Nogales would have been a distant memory. As they say, no money, no honey.

My older brother has hated me his whole life. I had asthma until I was seven years old. Mom asked my brother to watch me while she cooked and cleaned the house, as she was afraid for me to be alone. He was unable to be with his friends during these times, and he didn’t like it. His hatred for me grew with each passing year. I remember him saying, I wish you were never born. This occurred throughout the years. Mom apologized to me for the way he treated me. She blamed herself. The evil one was whispering into my brother’s ear, and he was never able to overcome his hatred of me. He still harbors anger and jealousy toward me. Get this, he’s nearly eighty years old. WTF? Who in the hell would want my life?

When I was sixteen my mother told me I had to join the navy. She was worried about good old Dad and his temper. She was concerned with my brother’s behavior toward me. Of course, my odd behavior didn’t help matters. I was seventeen in October 1964 when mom gave her permission for me to enlist in the navy. I have always loved my mom. She was the only person in my life that I could trust. I miss her.

I spent my first night in a military barracks at the United States Navy Training Center in San Diego, California. The next morning the drill instructor asked me if I had shaved. I replied, No, sir. This cost me several nights of cleaning the barracks floor with a toothbrush. This was just the beginning of my military service. I have shaved every morning since my first day in the navy. I watched as other recruits fell face first onto the grinder. The drill instructors prevented anyone from helping them. I was never told why the area was called the grinder, but you can imagine. I thought these were the worst days of my life. I just didn’t have a crystal ball to see my future. I made it through boot camp and received my first promotion in the military. I applied to attend the Special Warfare Training before graduation. I was not selected; instead I was assigned to a navy ship in Japan. I was flown to San Francisco, California. It was January, and the first thing I felt was the cold and wind. This was definitely a new experience for me. I thought I was going to freeze to death. In just one day my life went from bad to worse. However, there are always silver linings in every difficult situation. I loved San Francisco. I was seventeen but looked thirteen. The women in San Francisco seemed to love the military, especially the sailors. I hope my brothers in the Green Berets don’t hold this against me. It was winter, so we wore our dark blue navy uniforms. The ladies showered me with affection. I left San Francisco two weeks later.

The navy put me on a commercial airliner for the flight to Japan. To my utter joy, all military personnel were given free alcohol. I knew life couldn’t get any better than this.

We arrived in Japan, and I was told to stay on the plane. WTF? I began hoping I was going back to the United States. The pilot announced, Next stop is the Philippines.

I sat still with no thoughts and ordered another beer. I began wondering, Where in the hell is the Philippines?

I arrived in the Philippines and was met by a navy guy. He told me my ship was arriving tomorrow. He showed me a barracks and said, Do what you want, but be here at zero eight hundred hours.

I walked into the barracks as two guys were leaving. One of them said, We’re going to town. Do you want to come? I threw down my seabag and out the door I went.

I never gave a thought as to why the navy sent me to the Philippines. I only thought about myself. Soon, I was on my own. The two guys I had gone to the bar with decided to go to another bar. I was with a beautiful girl, so I stayed with her. I was seventeen years old and a zillion miles from home. I didn’t even know which direction the United States was from the Philippines. I drank beer all day and night. This I know. What I didn’t know was where in the hell I was when I woke up. I was alone on my very first night in this country. I was lost and walking on a dirt road. It was completely dark. I didn’t even know the time, but it felt really late. I was walking as fast as I could. I didn’t know if I was heading in the right direction or not. I tried to remember what happened while I was with the girl. I couldn’t remember much, but I didn’t forget about the sex. As I was reminiscing, I saw headlights coming toward me. A Jeep stopped with two navy guys. They were military police officers, and I happily caught a ride back to the base. They dropped me off at the barracks. I was in love with a Filipino girl. In a few days I wouldn’t even remember her name. Well, so much for love.

The next day, I was shocked when I looked at the ship from the pier. I was hungover and running without sleep for thirty hours. I was the only one waiting for the ship. WTF? Why would a navy ship stop in the Philippines to pick up a seventeen-year-old kid? I wasn’t sure what to do. I had to do something, so I walked up a gangplank (navy talk). I saw guys working everywhere on the ship. What had I gotten myself into? There was a navy officer waiting for me. A sailor said, Salute the officer and request permission to come aboard. I did so.

The officer looked at my orders and told the sailor, Take him to his sleeping quarters and get him squared away. Then take him to the boatswain mate.

I followed the guy who was leading. I had never seen anything like this in my life. I didn’t know what anything was. I felt completely lost. Everyone was looking at me as I passed by. I was scared to death. I was led down narrow passageways turning in different directions. I climbed up ladders and down others. I entered an area that looked just like a cell block. Don’t ask how I know what a cell block looks like. The sailor I was following pointed to a top bunk and said, This is where you will sleep. This is your footlocker; put all your stuff in it. He waited, and then I followed him back up ladders and down others.

There was this huge black man looking at me. He said, You’re working for me. I’m the chief boatswain mate. This is my ship. If you do what you’re told, everything will be fine. If not, you’ll wish you were never born. He walked away. This was my first day on the Henry W. Tucker.

I woke early and realized that this was my home for the next three years. The aft (rear in civilian life) sleeping compartment was small with sailors stacked three bunks high. The bottom bunk was about one foot above a row of lockers, and the top bunk allowed about one foot of clearance to the overhead (ceiling in civilian life). The first thing I heard was a guy screaming a few bunks away from mine about someone who jacked off in his sock. No kidding.

I was assigned to a deck cleaning crew. I worked all day painting, sanding, and cleaning. We were at sea for about one week, and then we began preparing the ship for combat. The ship had two five-inch guns along with two .50-caliber machine guns and an assortment of small arms.

I kind of followed the war news as a kid, but I didn’t realize how far Vietnam is from America. I wondered why we were here. I worked below deck in the ammunition storage area during combat. There were four or five of us assigned to load shells and powder in elevators that went directly to the gun mounts. We were on duty day and night. We fell asleep anywhere we could when there was a break in the action. We fired over ten thousand rounds of five-inch and both of the .50-caliber machine guns. We were supporting American ground troops and destroying enemy troops and villages that were sympathetic toward the enemy. We were assigned to take out a high-priority target that was well protected by enemy troops. This radar site was the reason for many of our navy aircraft being shot down. We began taking fire as we approached the enemy. The radar site was completely destroyed, including all enemy troops. We were credited with forty-two kills and awarded the Meritorious Unit Citation.

I began pulling daily shifts on the bridge as a helmsman. The captain and/or other officers were always present on the bridge, and lesser-ranked personnel like me worked on the bridge. A sailor was on the port (left side) and another on the starboard (right side) of the ship. They were the forward lookouts. There was one lookout on the after deck (rear in civilian talk) of the ship. Another sailor was in the after steering watch compartment. This is a small room located on the lowest deck of the ship. The compartment has a watertight door. This prevents water from flooding the compartment if the ship is damaged. The steersman’s duty was to take control of the ship if the bridge was disabled.

I was rotated each day or night to different bridge assignments. The five sailors assigned to the bridge wore headsets. This was the helmsman, three lookouts, and the after steersman. A radio frequency was dedicated for their use. Remember the saying, Kids will be kids? The guy in the after steering watch was listening to rock and roll. He was alone, so this was okay. Then he pressed the button so others could hear him speak, but he didn’t speak, he played rock and roll music.

I got my second promotion in the navy. I just might make the navy a career. I know what you’re thinking. I’ll be telling you that yesterday was the worst day of my life.

The ship docked (stopped in civilian life) at a small country named Taiwan for two days. I found everything to be so amazing. I still marveled at my luck in joining the navy. I was now seeing the most beautiful oriental women in the entire world. The girl I met looked like a movie star. She giggled at everything I said. I liked this. We saw the first James Bond movie together. The things that this oriental girl could do were beyond amazing. I fell in love with her. I knew at this moment I would return to Taiwan. The girl didn’t understand English. Your guess is as good as mine as to why she was laughing while I was with her.

The next port we stopped at was Hong Kong. This city had the tallest buildings I’d ever seen. The neon signs were huge and cool looking. The rickshaws being pulled by old men were a crazy sight. The old wooden ships were still used by the Chinese for fishing or drugs. I just don’t know which one. The Chinese girls were beautiful. I had the most fun in my life in Hong Kong. How lucky can a guy be? I also picked up my first tattoo.

I became more excited as we got closer to Japan. I heard all the stories about Japanese women. I began to believe that the entire world belonged to me, a mere boy from Tucson, Arizona. I thought about the good times in Mexico, the Philippines, Taiwan, and Hong Kong. Now was on my way to Yokosuka, Japan. I wondered how life could get any better than this.

I was amazed how a ship made of steel could travel the oceans of the world. We experienced beautiful calm seas and nights with more stars than a person could ever imagine. The falling stars were a continuous and beautiful sight. We sat outside on the flight deck enjoying the cool nights. We talked about the fun things we did while growing up. This was the very first time I heard what family life should look like. I could only speak of the times I played sports. I never told anyone the truth about my family life, for many years. I wept at night in my bunk.

Then came the awful days and nights sailing through storms. The ship was continuously plowing through huge ocean waves that covered the entire ship. I was steering the ship during one of the storms. I was completely numbed by the solid water hitting the bridge. Then the entire ship would be underwater. The ship would sail over the next huge wave then go down the backside. The next wave would go over the top of the ship. I held my breath each time the ship went underwater. Then another wave and another wave. The ship was rolling and pitching back and forth so hard we thought it would sink. The storms could last for days. Many sailors spent hours puking in buckets sitting in the passageways. Sailors who were not on duty stayed in their bunks except to eat. It was nearly impossible to walk. You had to hold onto the railings with both hands. We had to move from the sleeping compartment to the mess hall. There were many times sailors would go flying through the air. The dinner tables in the mess hall had a one-inch raised edge around the tabletops. This was to prevent the metal dinner plates from flying off the table. It didn’t always work. We had to hold onto our plates while eating. Our table seats were like the ones at the soda shops. The seat was round, so this caused many sailors to be thrown. Then you had to go back to the sleeping compartment. There were no happy faces during these days. This was the scariest thing I’d ever been through, but I would find much worse in my life. I still haven’t found that damn crystal ball.

The first night in Yokosuka, I was going in and out of the nightclubs with my friends. We walked into a club, and I saw a Japanese girl looking at me. She smiled and waved to me. I walked over, and she patted the seat next to her, and I sat down. She asked if I wanted a beer. She ordered our drinks. She asked me, How old you are?

I said, Seventeen, and she laughed and pinched my cheek.

She said, You baby san. The guys heard this and laughed liked lunatics. This name stuck with me for a year and a half. She said, My name Sachiko, and I call you Baby San. She was so beautiful. She was wearing a kimono like I saw in a movie. Her hair was black and long. Her eyes were brown and slanted. I’d never seen this before. She kissed me on the cheek and said, Don’t be fucking butterfly and cheat on me. Okay, Baby?

Trust me. I will only be with you.

She squealed and planted the best kiss I ever had on my lips. Baby San, I love you.

We walked to a hotel holding hands. She got us a room. It didn’t take long to get naked and in bed. This is where I found out everything I didn’t know.

I was walking back to the ship thinking of her. Boy was I a happy Baby San. I went to see Sachiko every night when I had liberty. I was feeling something that I never felt before; it had to be love. She gave me the love I had missed out on all of my life. I was staying at her family’s home every night. We enjoyed doing everything together. I lost my feeling of being alone. I learned for the first time how wonderful life could be when you were truly loved.

I couldn’t eat Japanese food except for the fried rice. They ate raw fish, octopus, squid, and things I’d never eaten before. Her parents thought I was weird. This was what she told me, and then she laughed. They couldn’t speak or understand English. I wasn’t sure her parents even liked me. You know how you can pick up the vibes from others? I thought about her dad and his samurai sword hanging on the wall. I never talked to him. We ate our meals while sitting on the floor, at a short table with our legs underneath. A heater was underneath during winter months. I was surprised how cold the winters are in Japan.

There is a mountain called Mount Fuji that can be seen from anywhere in Japan. There is snow on the mountaintop year around. We slept on soft blankets on the floor in Sachiko’s bedroom. The walls were made of paper. Man, I didn’t like this either. It didn’t seem to bother Sachiko or her parents. I couldn’t keep my hands off of her. We did the horizonal bop two or three times every night. She was so loud. I felt like putting the pillow over her face. Then I remembered Dad’s sword. I always wondered what the old man and woman thought.

I asked a navy buddy about living with Sachiko at her parent’s home. He said, They want to go to the United States. The only way the family can go is for their daughter to marry an American sailor. They hope she gets pregnant and that you marry her. Then you and Sachiko along with the baby and her parents will live happily ever after in America. WTF?

The best thing about Japanese culture is that the wives give the husbands their baths. Well, we were not married, but you get the point. The bathtub is tall but not very big around. She rinses you off while you’re sitting on a wooden stool. Then she helps you get into the tub. The warm water is up to your neck. She helps you get out of the tub, and then you sit on the stool again. She washes your entire body with warm soapy water. This is true. She rinses you off, then dries you off. She liked it almost as