DOB/DOD: July 27, 1932 (Pikeville, KY) – June 8, 1969; 36 years old
RELIGION: Presbyterian
MARITAL STATUS: Married Kathleen Stewart Bartley [later, Brown] (1930-2024), on June 21, 1952, in Kanawha County, West Virginia.
CHILDREN: One son, Don L., Jr. (1953-). One daughter, Sharon L. Bartley Patterson (1955-).
COLLEGE: BA from Davis & Elkins College in Elkins, West Virginia, in 1954. BD from Union Theological Seminary, Richmond, Virginia, in 1958.
SERVICE NUMBER: OF-0102134
ENLISTMENT: May 4, 1961
MILITARY OCCUPATIONAL SPECIALTY: 5310, Chaplain
TOUR START DATE: July 27, 1968 (his 36th birthday)
UNIT: Americal Division, 24th Corps Area
CASUALTY LOCATION: Quang Nam Province
ON THE WALL: Panel 23W, Line 109
FAMILY: Born to John A. (1898-1947) and Dixie J. Justice Bartley [later, Burgraf] (1899-1975). Three brothers, Edward E. (1920-1996), Buford [Army Air Corps veteran] (1922-1986), and Forrest R. [USMC veteran] (1926-2006). One sister, Christine [died of “childhood paralysis”] (1919-1932).
OTHER: Promoted to Lieutenant Colonel posthumously. Awarded the Legion of Merit, Silver Star Medal, Bronze Star Medal, Air Medal (3), Purple Heart Medal (2), Joint Services Commendation Medal, and the Army Commendation Medal (3).
CIRCUMSTANCES: At approximately 2:30 PM on June 8, 1969, a ¾-ton U.S. military truck carrying three Armed Forces Television Network newsman, a chaplain, and two other American servicemen hit a pressure-type mine of approximately 60-80 pounds as it followed a jeep on Route 540, fifteen miles southwest of Da Nang in Quang Nam Province, RVN, enroute to conduct field services for Company K, 3/7 Marines. The jeep, carrying the 3/7 Marines Battalion Chaplain, left the highway and traveled about 50 meters. When the truck followed the jeep off the road, the mine detonated, fatally injuring all personnel aboard. The truck was completely destroyed. The lost Navy newsmen included writer JO1 William R. Wilson, and photographers PH2 Carl W. Hudgins Jr. and PH1 Robert G. Stricklin. The Army chaplain was MAJ Don L. Bartley, who was accompanied by two Marine assistants, PFC Gale L. Barnes, a logistics man, and LCPL Roger L. Young, the driver, both from Headquarters Company, 7th Marines, 1st Marine Division. LCPL Young suffered critical injuries to his head in the blast and was evacuated, after which time he expired. The Navy newsmen were filming the final episode of a six-part series on the activities of military chaplains in Vietnam. The segment, entitled “The Circuit-Rider,” was designed to show chaplains working close to soldiers in combat. Army chaplain Bartley was posthumously promoted to Lieutenant Colonel. [From coffeltdatabase.org, 3/7 Marines Command Chronology for June 1969, and “Mine Kills Chaplain, 3 AFVN Newsmen.” Pacific Stars & Stripes, June 14, 1969]
Pikeville Academy, Class of 1950. Photos are from the Pikeville Academy yearbook, Class of 1948. Contributed by Christy Fleming, Pikeville Public Library, Pikeville, Kentucky.
Citation to accompany the award of the Silver Star Medal
The President of the United States of America, authorized by Act of Congress July 9, 1918, takes pleasure in presenting the Silver Star to Lieutenant Colonel (Chaplain’s Corps) Don Laverne Bartley (ASN: O-102134), United States Army, for gallantry in action involving close combat against an armed hostile force in the Republic of Vietnam. Chaplain Bartley distinguished himself by exceptionally valorous actions in March 1968, while serving as Chaplain of the 196th Infantry Brigade, 23d Infantry Division (Americal), on a combat mission in the Republic of Vietnam. Chaplain Bartley was a passenger on a helicopter that was shot down, killing all aboard except for Chaplain Bartley, who was wounded, and one other soldier who was seriously wounded and thrown from the helicopter and was lying in the open. The crash site was surrounded by Viet Cong soldiers who poured a withering fire on the crash site. Chaplain Bartley used an M-16 rifle to repel the assaulting enemy, and then crawled out under fire to the wounded man and pulled him back into the helicopter. He rendered life-saving first aid to his wounded comrade and called for a rescue force. Chaplain Bartley’s extraordinary heroism in close combat against an enemy force is in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflects great credit upon himself, the Americal Division, and the United States Army.
From The Corpus Christi Times on June 12, 1969
THRICE-WOUNDED MAN WITH 3 WEEKS TO GO DIES IN WAR
DA NANG, Vietnam (AP) – A U.S. Army chaplain, wounded three times in the last year, was to return home in three weeks, was killed Sunday when an enemy mine exploded beneath the truck in which he was riding.
The U.S. Command, in a belated report today, said five other Americans also died in the explosion on a road seven miles south of Da Nang. The blast destroyed the U.S. Marine truck in which the six men were riding.
The chaplain was identified as Major Don L. Bartley, Rockbridge Baths, Virginia, formerly chaplain of the Americal Division’s 196th Light Infantry Brigade, and who was assigned May 19 to U.S. Command headquarters.
The United Presbyterian minister, who suffered three wounds in action last year with his old unit, was scheduled to return to the United States on July 5. He is survived by his widow and two children.
Three of the dead were Navy sailors on a television camera crew assigned to the Armed Forces Vietnam Network in Saigon.
They were identified as journalist William R. Wilson, and Photographers Mates Robert G. Stricklin and Carl W. Hudgins Jr.
All originally were from Kansas City, Missouri, but a military source said Stricklin’s parents had moved from Kansas City to California several years ago. The city in which they now live was not known here.
The two Marines killed in the mine blast were not identified.
NOTE: The two Marines were Private First Class Gale L. Barnes, a logistics man, and Lance Corporal Roger L. Young, the driver, both from Headquarters Company, 7th Marines, 1st Marine Division.
From an unknown newspaper
TROOPERS MOURN THE PADRE WHO CARED
DA NANG, South Vietnam — This is a story about a hero, a man who died in the service of his country after winning the Silver Star and three Purple Hearts in less than a year in Vietnam. He was credited with no enemy kills. In fact, never once did he lift a weapon against another man. He was Chaplain (Maj) Don Bartley. Along with five other men, the padre died in the lethal blast of an enemy mine on a quiet afternoon seven miles outside of Da Nang when nobody expected trouble. He had less than a month to go in Vietnam. Because of the harrowing pace he set for himself in the Americal Division during the early months of his tour and because of three wounds, he had been reassigned to MACV headquarters for his last 50 days in-country. He was taking part in an AFN Vietnam TV documentary on chaplains in Vietnam when he was killed. Three of the victims were part of a TV crew who had worked with Bartley on the story for two weeks. Chaplain Bartley, a United Presbyterian minister, didn’t become a hero by dying. He was
a living hero, but as is often the case, he is only fully appreciated now that he is gone. In the security of a fortified firebase or in the peril of a flaring firefight, Bartley comforted and inspired American men who wanted his services. The troopers who knew him said it best. “He was a straight guy. A lot of people will hesitate to pour out their problems to a stranger, but he managed to understand and remember the problems of everyone he counseled. He gave the distinct impression that he really cared about your welfare,” remembered SP4 Ted Simmons,
2d Battalion, 21st Infantry, of the 196th Light Infantry Brigade. Said Maj Russell Williams, Bartley’s CO for most of his tour, “He knew everyone at fire support bases on a personal basis. This was most important to him.” The words of others reflect the actions of the man, and Chaplain Bartley’s actions were gallant indeed. Three times he was wounded, yet he was able to sustain his fellow soldiers in the heat of battle. Whether they were young or old, whether their wounds were mental, spiritual, or physical, he was there to help. Men of every religion and others who professed none benefited from his interest. He won the Silver Star in March when he was cited for his impromptu role as a medic as well as that of a chaplain. He erected four chapels, including one at LZ Baldy just in time for Christmas, 1968. The 30-foot by 60-foot structure was the pride of the Virginia native. This provides a center for worship with the atmosphere to which the men here were accustomed back in the World. “It was my special dream to complete this center as it is inspiring in more ways than one.” A spokesman at MACV Command Chaplain’s office said shocked friends had not yet made a decision about continuing with the AFN documentary. Bartley had worked for two weeks on the film along with 18 other chaplains who had participated at various times.
Posted on VVMF.org by Larry Henry July 16, 2015
COMFORT IN THE TIME OF CHAOS
I met Chaplain Bartley in mid-October, I believe. I had come into the country on the first of August and spent my 1st wedding anniversary at the replacement center in southern South Vietnam. My final destination as Army Infantry would be the Americal Division (Chu Lai) in I Corps. I was a replacement for those lost in the February Tet Offensive, 1969…a pleasant thought. Once in Chu Lai, I would be reassigned to the 196th LIB and 3 BN/21 Inf operating off of Firebase Center, a mountain-top camp about 30 miles south of Danang. I remained in the field, without even a side-trip to the firebase, until mid-October when I had received a not-so-glamorous wound while on patrol in our A/O.
I was choppered to the field hospital on LZ Baldy…196 Light Infantry Brigade Headquarters. It was here that I met Chaplain (Major) Don L. Bartley. I was processed in and assigned a bed where I would stay for the next week or so. Prior to shipping out to Vietnam, my wife and I had agreed to 1) calculate the time difference between my location and home, and 2) read the same passage of the Bible at approximately the same time each day. One of my first days in the hospital, while reading my Bible passage, an officer came through the ward and stopped to introduce himself…Brigade Chaplain Bartley.
He commented on my having the Bible out, so I explained. We talked for a while concerning my wound, my field duties, and then he left. I was to see him many times after that…Chaplain Bartley made it a point to visit the Hospital and the Morgue every day he was on the Hill. He brought a lot of comfort, relaxing discussion, and hope to the wounded. After that, he would visit Graves Registration to pray for those men who would go home before their tour ended.
I moved from the field hospital to another hospital in Chu Lai, to my Company Surgeon on Firebase Center, back to the Field Hospital at LZ Baldy. Once again, I met up with my friend, the Chaplain. Days later, I was released to return to my unit in the field. I walked over to the Chaplain’s office to say goodbye. He was outside, building a Chapel in the medical area for Sunday service. He excused himself, saying that he needed to place a call, and asked me to wait. When he returned, he asked if I would be his assistant. I explained that I knew very little about what he did. He said I would only need to know how to drive a jeep and to ‘appropriate’ things. I assured him that I could do both…he told me to fly to Firebase Center to retrieve my equipment and to return to the office.
It would be a couple of months before I would join Chaplain Bartley on LZ Baldy. His assistant would not be leaving for a while, so he moved me to Firebase West to assist a new chaplain until his permanent assistant came in. Then he moved me to Chu Lai to operate the rear office and the Chapel. Every Sunday, after service on LZ Baldy, Chaplain Bartley would fly back to Chu Lai to give a sermon to all military and civilians in our area that had not had an opportunity to go to service elsewhere on base. The chaplain felt very strongly that everyone should have the opportunity to attend Church service, even though they may not have transportation. Later that day, he would return to Baldy to visit the hospital and the morgue.
During this time, Chaplain Bartley was fulfilling a dream. He was building a large Brigade Chapel on top (well, almost) of LZ Baldy…overlooking the chopper pad, air strip, and the Artillery placement. It was the Chaplain’s feeling that everyone should have a place to go that didn’t look temporary or military. Rather, he wanted them to feel at home. I soon learned the reason I was to ‘appropriate’ things and help him with the completion and furnishing of the interior. In December, my Dad died. Chaplain Bartley flew to Chu Lai to tell me…he did not call me for a pickup at the chopper pad like usual, but walked to the office.
His chopper flew the two of us back to Baldy, where I would process out on emergency leave. The Chaplain’s jeep had Brigade Chaplain on the front with a Cross and the symbol of his rank as Major. Chaplain Bartley drove me to HQ. I could not disappoint the guys we passed who were saluting…so, as the Chaplain drove, I returned all salutes. He thought that was fantastic.
Our office was inside the medical compound of C Company, 23rd Med, where the hospital was located. The Chaplain felt that he…and his assistants…were on call 24 hours a day. We were to meet every Dust-Off Chopper that came in to help transport the wounded and deceased. Therefore, we pulled no HQ company duties such as KP or guard. However, we did pull guard with the Medics to help ‘pay’ for our rent. I would soon learn just how much that man was admired in the medical compound, with soldiers just meeting him for the first time, and with his staff of field Chaplains.
When I returned from emergency leave, I felt a real tug from my friends in the field. I slept on a cot every night…they slept on the ground. I had abandoned them. I told the Chaplain that I had to go back to my infantry unit. He would not sign the transfer. He had communicated with my Mother. He had sent her a letter after my Dad died…she returned the letter explaining that my brother had died while I was in basic training. He promised her that he would keep an eye on me…and not let me go back to the field. She had lost a son and a husband within a year. He would not be responsible for her to lose another.
Actually, I felt safer in the field. The enemy knew exactly where we lived on Baldy. At least in the field, he had to find us. We got hit many times each week. Some worse than others, sometimes only mortars or gunfire. Other times, they were full-on battles. One such battle took place in May 1969. A company-sized offensive made up of NVA Regulars hit the North side of LZ Baldy. We fought all night, with most of it contained to the North side. Word was that the enemy was headed through a rice paddy towards the medical compound, but they could no longer be found.
At first light, before the perimeter was clear, the Chaplain asked me to drive him around the hill… ‘the men need to see us,’… he said. They did. We spoke to many of the guys who had fought all night…evidence of their battle was everywhere. The Chaplain spoke to them, held their hands, and embraced them. Whatever they needed. He was amazing. Then he told me to take him to HQ. A cleanup detail needed to be arranged immediately. Not only to remove the bodies, but to give respect to their souls. Enemy or not, we were to respect them in death.
In the midst of all of the chaos, we had some great times. The Chaplain had a wonderful sense of humor and enjoyed being part of the group. He encouraged the medics and doctors to meet in our office each evening after chow to do whatever they wanted to do. Usually, someone brought a guitar and we would try to sing or just listen. Chaplain Lovelace (from Tennessee) would entertain us with his version of the Hambone when he was on the hill.
His serious side came when he was preparing his sermon or reflecting on his family. His area of the office contained his bunk, his desk, and pictures. There was no door, but everyone knew that, when he was in his chair, that was his private time…do not disturb.
The Catholic Chaplain’s Assistant and I lived in a space in the back of the Chapel next door to our office. Just after I became comfortable with sleeping indoors, he wanted us to move. He felt that it was not acceptable to live in the Chapel. We built a new living quarters out of materials left over from the construction of the new Brigade Chapel…even mahogany plywood and ¼” paneling.
He and I had long discussions about the war, our family, and our plans after we returned to the world. How do we reconcile the death and destruction that went on day after day with our own beliefs of non-violence? On a Sunday evening, while waiting for anyone to show up for our new Sunday Night service, we sat on a big rock outside the Brigade Chapel. He told me how he had run away from home at 15 to join the Marines. He was caught three weeks later and sent home. He never lost his desire to join the military. His dream when he returned home from Nam was to attend the US War College. I wish I could remember more of our discussions.
I do not remember how long it was after that, but the Chaplain told me he was going home. There would be a detour, though. He was asked by the Americal (23rd Infantry) Division Chaplain to prepare some training films for an Army Field Chaplain, Brigade Chaplain, and Marine Chaplain. There may have been a Navy Chaplain in there, but I do not remember.
He came onto the Hill one day, saying that he was going to pick up all of his gear and head to Da Nang for the final filming. He would spend the day with the Marines and then head home. While I was very happy for him, I told him not to go to Da Nang. I knew he had no choice, but I had a bad feeling…superstitious, I suppose. A few hours later, I received the news.
I do not recall why the Catholic assistant and I began calling him Black Bart. It certainly was not out of anger. He did know, however, that if we had too much free time, we could get into trouble. One day, I was to dig a hole…a large one…that would be used as a dry well for our laundry water. How all of those sandbags got buried right where the hole was to be, I’ll never know. The whole compound was not that old. When I voiced my opinion, he just said… ‘keep digging’. Right after that, I had to dig another dry well…he wanted his own shower. I’ll have to admit…they were nice additions. And, he could be stern. Maybe it was the time we were going to the PX in Chu Lai. A soldier was walking toward us…obviously new in country with really fresh fatigues. He walked past the Chaplain without a salute (optional for a Chaplain). Major Bartley stopped the soldier and scolded him for not saluting. I asked him why he did that…he just smiled. I miss that man.
Initially buried in Stonewall Jackson Memorial Cemetery, 318 S. Main Street, Lexington, Virginia; New Bacon Section, Lot 4A, Space 1.
Reinterred to Arlington National Cemetery, One Memorial Drive, Arlington, Virginia; Section 55, Grave 1910, on June 16, 2025.
END