One veteran's story

Thomas Kelly was shot in the left leg, had mustard gas sprayed on his back and lost part of the back of his head during trench warfare.

“He was my hero,” Rose-Harms American Legion Post 355 Commander Gary Gilstrap said of the World War I soldier.

Kelly was his grandfather. 

The third wound led him to be pronounced dead, but before he was placed in a mass grave, someone noticed his fingers moving. He was taken to a hospital and eventually to his home of Port Huron, Mich., where the nurse who took care of him later became his wife. They had two daughters; one became Gilstrap’s mother.

Kelly, a native of Ireland, carried a submachine gun. Sometimes he fired it so much the barrel burned his hands.

“I was his oldest grandson. He would always tell me that, physically and mentally, if you can serve your country, you need to,” Gilstrap said.

That is why Gilstrap joined the military, and his grandfather’s injuries are why he was raised in Sanford, Fla. Kelly developed migraines from a metal plate that was placed in his head. His doctor said it was the cold weather, so he moved south.

When he turned 18, Gilstrap was assigned number 36 in the Vietnam draft lottery, meaning he was likely to be drafted.

“I’m never going to forget that,” he said of the number.

He passed on plans to attend Florida State and went to recruiting offices instead. He chose the Air Force.

His grandfather would have rolled over in his grave, Gilstrap said. “Of course, he wanted me to join the Army.” Gilstrap was trained to be a loadmaster and a special purpose mechanic, matching his mechanically inclined aptitude. He trained to do rig drops – initially thinking it had something to do with semitrailers – in Champaign, Ill. Loadmasters prepare planes and supplies for large equipment drops, including vehicles.

While on the base in Illinois, Gilstrap got a call from his older sister. “Nobody ever called the base unless somebody died,” Gilstrap said.

She instead invited him for Thanksgiving in Grafton, where she was living with her husband, Grafton native Fred Kroner, who served in the Navy. It was there Gilstrap met Kroner’s sister Kathy.

“I’d ask you out on a date but it’s going to be a while,” he told her. The two dated long distance for four years. Gilstrap spent six months in Vietnam and Guam during the stretch, living in a tent in miserable tropical heat and rain.

In his day and night airdrops, Gilstrap, while tethered to the plane, released supplies from C-130s, first throwing out a parachute that was connected to the equipment, which included jeeps and trucks. Eight-inch thick honeycomb cardboard was placed underneath, and it collapsed when hitting the ground to absorb the shock.

During touch-and-go drops, Gilstrap had to push the cargo out. Those were the scariest missions, and they led to back surgery later in life.

Drop locations had to be strategically selected. Vietcong were after the same supplies the American troops wanted.

The C-130s were also moving targets for enemy fire. “There’d be holes all over the planes,” Gilstrap said.

Just to get in the air, Gilstrap pumped JP-4 fuel, the cheapest and most flammable kind, into planes, opening and closing the valves. “You’re going to get coated with nothing but fuel,” he said. That led to cancer, which Gilstrap still deals with today.

After six months between Vietnam and Guam, Gilstrap was sent to North

Dakota, going from “hot to ice,” five miles from the Canadian border, he said.

That’s where he proposed to Kathy after a four-year long-distance relationship.

They were married in Ipswich, England, where he was later stationed.

They got married again at St. Joe’s Catholic Church in Grafton for a Christian ceremony and have enjoyed more than 51 years together.

Kathy came home to Grafton to have their first of six children. Gilstrap’s service took him to Yakota, Japan, before he left the military and landed a job as a facilities manager for multiple health care facilities.

One day, however, Gilstrap heard the 440th Airlift Wing in Milwaukee needed a loadmaster. He missed his time in the military and commuted to the airport from Grafton for three years before returning to managing health care facilities.

Gilstrap’s role in the military is a paradox in phobias.

“I hate heights, except for a plane,” he said. “Get me up on a roof, it ain’t happenin’.”

Getting him involved with the local American Legion post was easier. A couple of Rose-Harms Post members at St. Joe’s told Kathy that Gilstrap should join. He went to visit and never left.

That was 24 years ago.

Gilstrap, 75, was second vice commander for one year, first vice commander for 20 years and is now in his third and final year as commander.

“The camaraderie, the friends that you make here,” he said. “It’s family.”

Post members help one another however they can – at their homes or at the Post.

“You’ve got each other’s backs,” Gilstrap said, “and it doesn’t matter what branch of the service you were in, we will tease you.”

Some Legion members don’t know Gilstrap by his first name. Since he is from Florida, he is called Gator – it’s even on the nameplate on his picture on the wall of post commanders.

Others still call him coach after he spent years coaching Little League, girls’ fastpitch softball and soccer. He’s also a Big Brother.

Gilstrap and Kathy like to travel and spend time with their family. All six children and eight grandchildren live in Wisconsin.

Now, Gilstrap and fellow Legionnaires are preparing for multiple presentations at schools and the annual parade and Veterans Day ceremony on Wednesday, Nov. 11.

Gilstrap is eager to share the story of his time in the service.

“My grandfather would be proud,” he said. “I know my kids are.”