Paul Cartwright remembers Vietnam — and ‘SKI’

By Paul Cartwright
Van Buren Township
I have lived most of my life wondering if Ski was still alive.
Fifty-three years ago, on March 29, I enlisted in the United States Marines. At 18 years old, registered for the draft and Vietnam calling, I felt I wanted to be the best trained with the best chance of survival. Besides that, I wanted to be a Marine. Basic training at Marine Recruit Depot San Diego and Advanced Infantry training at Camp Pendleton.
By Sept. 19, I found myself a replacement member of the 2nd Battalion 1st Marine Division and exiting a DC 707 at Ton Son Nhut Air Base then on to Da Nang Air Base and immediately felt the heat and humidity of the surrounding jungle and country side.
Our assignment was to protect the air base and conduct seek and destroy patrols in the hinterlands surrounding Da Nang. I had been promoted to Lance Corporal and doing very well until Jan. 6, 1967. A year older and we were on one of those seek and destroy patrols when we were ambushed just crossing a bridge by the PLA or RVN. They had deployed one of either a “C” or “L” or “V” formation interlaced with “spider-hole” (a type of fox-hole). The fighting was fierce, and bullets were everywhere when I felt two of them hit. One in the shoulder and one in the chest. I thought … this is it!
The enemy was close, darn close. He already had a bead on me. I could see he was getting ready to squeeze the trigger again, when out of nowhere came a “big” Marine with black marker “SKI” emblazoned on his helmet and leveled him. Literally, he started with 100 rounds at his feet, and didn’t let up ‘til he was done with his head. I don’t know if he would remember that or not, but I do. He just saved my life!
Fast forward; I made it home after recuperating in the hospital and had a very successful career in law enforcement a wonderful marriage of 38 years to Debbie and a father — 3 children and 6 grandchildren, a son, a brother, a cousin, a friend.
But time has a way of reinforcing some things while others fade and are blurred by the sands of time. All I could remember about the man who saved my life was that his name was Ski and he was from Chicago. That is until I was watching the last episode of Ken Burns’ “The Vietnam War.”
The last scene of the last episode closed with an iconic photo taken by Larry Burroughs who felt that the look in this Marine’s eyes said, “…they moved their legs, they endured.” The last moment of the war was expressed in his eyes. Therefore, Ken Burns selected this photo and ironically why I saw that picture… to locate the man who saved my life.
But I didn’t think it would be a good idea to find him as some people don’t want to be found or reminded. A year later my health took a turn and I am now in the VA hospital in Ann Arbor. Debbie wanted to do something to cheer me up, so she posted a request on Facebook and the wheels turned – to the point that anchor newscaster Kristyn Hartman of WCPO Cincinnati saw the “post.” She is the daughter of “SKI!”
Hank Januchowski (aka Ski) remembers well the day Burrows took that photo. Experiences that Hank cherishes and those he would rather forget. This is the young Marine from Chicago who never swore, and I don’t care if you cut him with a knife. He’d say, “Jeez, that hurt”’ He even invented a word for the “F” word: Fletch. He is a compassionate and a no-nonsense man.
I have lived most of my life wondering if Ski was still alive. He is and I have to say, “My parents gave birth to me, but Ski gave me life. THANK YOU FOR SAVING MY LIFE!”

Editor’s Note: This was written by Cornell Anton with details from Paul Cartwright.