Chapter 01

Charles ’Chuck’ Phillips Meadows

Some years ago my favorite uncle asked me to help him write his biography. He was concerned because he was a great man and a great hero, but the various books and stories about him showed him as a very shallow person when he was the exact opposite. I was concerned too, because they showed him to be of almost mythical proportions. He was a larger than life hero who really lived, which is true. But he wasn’t the great untroubled, all seeing, mythical hero he’s fast becoming in folk lore. I agreed to help because I wanted the world to know him as the very human and real person he was. A man who thought and planned ahead, a man who cared more for others than himself, a man who died a little bit every time one of his people died or got wounded or hurt bad. He was a man of caring as well as planning and daring.

In short, we didn’t want his memorial to be a false and mythical image of him but a balanced accounting of a very human person who saw a problem, counted the cost of dealing with it, and then went ahead and dealt with it as best as he could with what he had available. In the preface to his original autobiography manuscript he said, “I’m a man they call a hero because I managed, by blind luck, to live through a hell of a fight where I was privileged to command many people who were far greater heroes than I’ll ever be.”

The manuscript of his autobiography and most of his records were stolen in the first days following his death. Many people are suspected of this foul deed, but there’s no evidence to charge any one person or organization. Other records that could help shed light on this man and his life are still shrouded in mystery because they are highly classified and will remain so for many more decades, unless someone high up within the government declassifies them ahead of schedule, something that doesn’t seem likely to happen.

We are fortunate some parts of the biography he wrote with me were saved on a very old external hard drive and weren’t wiped when we transferred the documents to a newer computer. Although this is an incomplete and very early draft it provided some understanding of him with some details needed for this account. The quote above is from the opening pages of this draft.

The other major sources of information for this book are the diaries and notes we both made during the period of time this account covers, interviews with people who knew and served with him, plus some other information I’ve been able to find in many public records. Because I’ve not had access to all the other relevant information I can’t write this as a biography or ghost autobiography the way he wanted me to, but I’ve written it as a story on his later life.

I apologize, in advance, for any shortcomings you may find in this story. I’m rushing it to completion and into print for public distribution in the hope of having the information out before the public will cause those who’re trying to stop that from happening to end their attempts on my life. I may be a great business woman and worth millions but I can still be assassinated if someone goes to enough trouble, and they’ve already tried six times. We’re sure these attempts are related to my desire to tell the truth about some events in my uncle’s life since the attempts on my life only started after that intention was made publicly known.

Some of the things I’ll mention are controversial and I fully expect some people to initiate court action because of them. I’m prepared to meet them in court and deal with whatever consequences that brings. One thing I do know is they won’t be able to stop this story from being published because they don’t have the resources to close me down or my various publishing sources since we’re currently outside of the US and beyond their legal reach. Also, their unlawful reach will have troubles dealing with us in Australia and Ireland, especially through the security screens we have in place.

I’ll start this account off with the English class writing assignment I did in high school. I’ll follow that with a short account, as best as I can from the sources I have, of Chuck’s activities after he was medically retired. Very little is known of his life and career prior to his joining the Rapid Response Force, and what is known is already available in the official history released by the US Department of Defense (DoD). The variations between the official account of his later contacts with the DoD and what’s recounted in this story leads me to wonder about the veracity and completeness of what is in the official account. But we have no records from that period to check against now. However, without any other reliable sources of information I’ll have to leave some parts of his life alone, although we do know they were well covered in the stolen documents.

I’m writing my parts from my point of view, and sometimes as that of an impartial observer. I won’t even attempt to include any of a person’s actual thoughts or emotions, except my own or where a person’s actions and words, as recounted, make them very clear or they were written down by them soon after the event. I’ll also skip most of the time covered in my old high school assignment, except to include a few things I didn’t put in the assignment.

What you’ll read, except for the summaries from the history books, will show you a man of conflicting emotions and deep ethics who abides by his ethics, though they maybe not the exact same ethics as our society. They’ll show you a man who loved deeply and in many ways for many reasons; a man who accepted orders from his superiors, despite being a better man than they; and a man who’s prepared to put everything he has on the line to do his duty as he sees it. A man who sees far into the future and then he makes plans to deal with the problems arising from that vision.

His superiors and society deem him to be a hero, but he never thought of himself as such. I think of him as a hero, but not the same as the one the legends are making him out to be. I say he’s a hero because I regard a hero as being a person who continues to do his duty as he sees it in very exceptional circumstances despite the cost to himself. That is the true definition of a hero, and it can apply to a war hero or anyone else in any walk of life: a farmer, a nurse, a fire fighter, or a shop keeper.

Because of the mixture of sources and times the various parts were written in you may notice distinct differences in writing styles. I also chose to write in the third person for some sections which are mostly written from records by others because this was the easiest way for me to write those parts.

Now read about the later life of General Charles ’Chuck’ Phillips, Medal of Honor, Silver Star (three times), and Purple Heart (seven times).

My Uncle - Chuck Meadows

by Charlene Meadows

This year my high school English class writing assignment was to pick a relative, learn more about them, then write about them and our relationship. It could be done in any way we wish as long as it tells about two or more things we didn’t previously know about the relative and it has a bit about our relationship. Thus the need to research them and learn more about them. I selected my favorite uncle, Chuck Meadows.

In doing the research for this assignment I found out a lot of things I never knew before. A lot of what I learned was confusing and I had a great difficulty in putting it into a sensible format. After discussion with the school librarian, and others, I’ve chosen to write his story in two parts. The first and largest is some of my recollections of the significant parts of our relationship, including a personal account of some recent events. Last is some official records that have a bearing on him. In the first section I’ll write about what I knew when I knew it while the second will be information copied from the stated reference works. Until I did this assignment I had no idea I had any family who were listed in public records in such a way, nor did I know Uncle Chuck’s actual military rank.

When the assignments were handed in the teacher told us one of the reasons for the assignment was to make us aware we never truly know all about a person or know about the people in our community. Boy, was she right about that, because I did learn a great deal in doing this.

Uncle Chuck

My earliest memory of Uncle Chuck is from when I was about five or six years old and this large man in military uniform arrived to spend Christmas with us. Mom said he was my Uncle Charles, her brother of some special sort and a very old school friend of Daddy’s. He was the one who introduced them to each other. He was with us for ten days and each day was great fun. When Daddy got called to go to work for an emergency two days after Christmas it was Uncle Chuck who took us to the fairground and the shows playing there at the time. He took all six of us kids: my three brothers, my sister, my best friend from next door, and me. I don’t remember the Christmas presents I got that year, but I clearly remember that trip to the fairground being very special because of him.

Uncle Chuck phoned Mom and Dad most weekends and he would often talk with me too. He’d turn up and spend a few weeks with us every twelve to eighteen months. Over the next seven years I saw Uncle Chuck five times and we always got on very well, much more so than how either of us got on with my brothers and sister. One strange thing, I always knew when he was about to visit. I’d just get this funny feeling he was getting nearer and he’d turn up in a day or two. I mentioned this to Mom when I was about ten. She just smiled at me and said, “It’s to be expected for you two,” but she wouldn’t say why.

About six weeks before my thirteenth birthday we’re sitting down watching the news when the phone rings and Dad answers it. A few minutes later he walks back looking very upset as he turns the news off. Looking at Mom he says, “That was the Army, Chuck is dead.”

Without even thinking I say, “No he’s not.”

Mom and Dad look at me then Dad says, “No matter how much we don’t want it to be, he’s dead. They don’t make those sorts of mistakes.”

I look at them both and say, “He’s not dead. I don’t care what you say! They’ve made a mistake this time. I know he’s still alive.”

Mom looks at us both and says, “I’ll reserve judgment until such time as I see a corpse. We’ve always known they’ve something special.” Dad just looks surprised, then he walks off while slowly shaking his head.

Mom turns the television back on in time for us to catch the end of the news as the announcer says, “In overseas news the main item is still the invasion of Europe by the Communist Chinese Army. They entered Russia through Kazakhstan and Mongolia in the last few days. The main force turned north just west of the Ural Mountains. All available Russian and European military forces have been deployed in an effort to halt them east of the Volga River. The international support for the Russians has been extensive and it includes many US forces. The main stopping line was forming in a line from Perm to the Volga River when the US Rapid Response Force was deployed from Samara as a sacrifice force to slow the Chinese Army down to buy the time needed for the main line to get established, dug in, and to be ready for them.” At this point Mom gasps and she looks very concerned.

Turning to me she says, “The Rapid Response Force is Charles’ unit.” While gulping hard we both turn back to the television.

The announcer is saying, “ ... a division of US Marines and the Australian Special Air Service Regiment were tasked with holding down the eastern flank to stop the Chinese from crossing or moving up the other side of the rivers nearer the Ural Mountains. The RRF made contact with the Chinese forces in what was expected to be a very short combat of about an hour. The battle lasted five hours and it inflicted so much damage to the Chinese forces the Marines were able to put them to flight simply by moving over the river toward them. The latest reports have the Chinese forces still withdrawing back through Kazakhstan in disorder. General Dawson, the commanding officer of the Marines, said, ’The success of this battle is due solely to the courage and determination of the men and women of the RRF. Most of my staff and I were privileged to be able to observe much of the battle from the other side of the river. The courage and skill demonstrated by the RRF troops is in the best traditions of any military force and well justifies their inclusion in the Special Forces order of battle.’ The RRF was wiped out with one hundred percent casualties and all of their tanks were destroyed.” At that point Mom starts crying while we view the images of destroyed and burning tanks littered across the fields the battle took place in. Mom turns the television off and goes upstairs. My brothers and sister remain sitting there staring at the blank television. I don’t know why or how, but I just knew Uncle Chuck wasn’t dead.

Next Day

The next morning Mom is still spaced out and very red eyed; I don’t think she got much sleep. After breakfast I sit down at the table with Mom and ask her, “What did you mean when you said Uncle Chuck and I have always had something special?”

She half smiles as she cries while telling me, “When I was expecting you, near the end and you were about to be born, your father was away on business while Charles was here on leave. Charles stayed with us to provide support until your father returned from his trip. The night you were born I went into labor and Charles took me to the birthing clinic I was booked into. I preferred the friendlier atmosphere of the clinic over the hospital, and that turned out to be a mistake. When we arrived at the clinic there was no doctor in sight and only the nurse on hand. We’d been promised there would always be a doctor, a midwife, and a nurse on hand with extra staff called in as patients arrived. You were three weeks early and we later found out there were no deliveries scheduled that night or the next day. When the midwife called in sick the doctor didn’t call in another. He was the owner and he figured to save on an expense he thought wasn’t needed.” After a sip of water she says, “With no one about at dinnertime the doctor went out for dinner and he was silly enough to leave his phone and beeper behind in his white coat. That was about the same time as I was calling for your Uncle Charles. He called the organized babysitter for your brothers and sister. She arrived while Charles was helping me into the car with my ’clinic bag.’ Ten minutes’ drive later he’s helping me through the front door of the clinic as the nurse rushes over with a wheelchair for me. They took me through and got me settled on one of the birthing beds. The nurse vanished for several minutes, and when she returned she looked very flustered. We later found out she’d been trying to get hold of the doctor or any of the doctors, but she couldn’t get any of them on the phone. Fifteen minutes after arriving I was fully dilated and screaming in pain because you wouldn’t get born. The nurse was very worried and agitated. Charles asked her what the trouble was. She was crying when she said was only a trainee nurse and she couldn’t reach the doctors or midwives earlier. She said something was wrong and she didn’t know what it was. Charles swore greatly while he pushed her out of the way. He took over, and a moment later he said you were a breach birth. In one of those special units he’d been in they gave him advanced medic training and it covered child birth. It always surprised me the military medical training included child birth of an equal standard to a midwife. He administered an epidural, pushed you back, and started turning you. He also had the nurse get his mobile phone out of his pocket to call a number on it for him. He organized for one of the military doctors he knows to come to the clinic. Thirty minutes later you were born feet first. I’d suffered interior damage at the start of the birth due to the breach presentation. After making sure you were alive Charles packed me with ice to stop the bleeding. An Army doctor arrived soon after that to take over my care while Charles attended to you because you needed a lot of immediate care due to being a premature birth. The doctor had to operate on me to save my life, and I was under heavy sedation for two days. During that time Charles cared for you and bottle fed you with a special formula they had. The day after your birth he got his leave extended and he stayed with us caring for you for several weeks because I wasn’t well enough to do so and your father wasn’t able to care for both of us when he got back. I spent a week in hospital and six weeks absolute bed rest with a nurse in attendance at home. By then you were on regular bottle feeds.”

She stops for another drink, “One thing I did notice in the first week at home was Charles would wander in half asleep to start getting your bottle ready in the middle of the night. Just as it was ready you’d be waking up and ready for it. During the day he’d wander in and start getting me ready for the breast feed and you’d wake up when he walked over to get you. The nurse noticed you always knew when he was in the room, even when you couldn’t see him and he hadn’t spoken yet you’d turn to face toward the doorway when he walked in, despite not being able to see it from inside your crib. He always seemed to know what you needed before you let us know. I never heard you cry for attention until about an hour after he left at the end of his leave. He was always there before you were ready to cry for it. When he later visited on leave you both always knew where the other was relative to each other. I always put it down to some special bonding link due to the troubles with your birth. I also found out, after the event, Charles had called in a lawyer and a civilian doctor after you were born that night. They arrived and documented it all, they also interviewed the nurse. The matter never went to court, but the nurse was paid two hundred and fifty thousand dollars compensation for being placed in such a stressful predicament when her terms of employment promised she’d never be left alone. You and I were paid a million dollars compensation each, yours is in a trust fund for you and is now worth about six million dollars. Charles was paid a million dollars compensation as well, for his efforts and stress on the night. I used mine as financing to set your father up properly in his current business.”

I sit there just staring at Mom for a while. I’m a multimillionaire, no wonder she always just looks at me and smiles when I ask about my college tuition fees. Mom and Dad are often discussing how they’re going to provide for my brothers’ and sister’s college fees, but not mine. After a few minutes of digesting all this I half smile and say, “Well, I do have a lot to thank Uncle Chuck for. Mom, believe me, I know he’s not dead. Don’t ask me how I know, but I know he’s not dead and he’s thinking of us. He’s hurt and distressed, but alive.”

She smiles as she gives me that look: the ’That’s nice, but I don’t believe a word of what you’re saying’ look parents sometimes give their children. After reaching across the table I squeeze her hand. We don’t watch the news for a few days because it’s just too painful with the reports from Russia dominating all of the news reports.

I take a week off from school. Everyone understands because they know how close I was to Uncle Chuck. Mom and I comfort each other at home while Dad looks after his business and my siblings go to school.

New News

A few days later I’m watching television when there’s some news headlines in the ad break. I’m avoiding the news at the moment and I’m about to switch to another channel when I catch the phrase, “Miracle on the battlefield, more shortly.” I stay and watch through the few ads. The news desk returns and the announcer says, “Earlier today troops cleaning up the Samara Battlefield cut their way into a tank whose hatches had been welded shut by fire. They were surprised to find one of the crew still alive after four days in the burnt out tank. The man was taken to hospital suffering from dehydration and heat injuries.” I don’t hear any more because the scene changes to show a man on a stretcher being taken into a hospital and it’s Uncle Chuck.

I jump up and scream very loud. The whole family soon surrounds me. I stand there pointing at the television while saying, “Uncle Chuck. He’s alive. They just had him on the news going into hospital.” No one believes me. However, Dad is the eternal pragmatist in so many ways. He goes and phones the local television station. He asks if they have a recording of the news item just broadcast. They say they do, so he asks if he can come over to see it. They promise to run it again in a few minutes. The channel he called is a different one to the one I was watching and the one he called had run it a bit earlier in the day. We change channels and Dad turns on the recorder. Seven minutes later the same news item is run. When they show the man being carried into the hospital Dad’s jaw drops and Mom’s eyes go wide. She turns to look at me with a smile - her first smile in days.

Dad is soon up and on the phone to the people in Washington who’d phoned to say Uncle Chuck was dead. He speaks and shouts at them for several minutes. They promise to check it and call him back. We all sit around waiting and watching the clock for thirty-nine and a half minutes. They call back to tell us they’d just had confirmation from the military hospital in Russia - it is Uncle Chuck. We all jump around and shout with joy at the good news.

June to August

In late June Dad sits us down to tell us the hospital is releasing Uncle Chuck on medical leave to recover at home. It means he still needs a lot of rest, but there’s no advantage in it being done in a hospital. They’re also sending a nurse along to look after changing his bandages and give him the medications when needed. This isn’t normal for this type of leave, but they’re doing it. He wants to come home, and I think they want to get rid of him so they’re shipping him out early at his insistence. When he visits this isn’t a problem because the spare room which is beside mine is really his room. But we need space for a nurse, so one of us has to double up. After confirming the nurse is a woman I offer to share my room with her. Dad smiles and calls the Army doctors back to make the arrangements.