Readable transcription of the original document. The actual PDF is linked above and below.
Harris emailed the full quarterly newsletter of the USMC Vietnam Tankers Association (Sponson Box, Vol. XVIII No. 2, 2026; cover story “The History of the M-48 Tank”) and pointed to page 42: “Go to page 42 for an article I wrote for one of my men.” The article (pp. 42–44, signed By Harris Himes) is Harris’s published memorial tribute to LCpl Robert “Bob” Fornwalt (Jan 15 1947 – Sept 22 2025), one of the Marines in Harris’s tank platoon in Vietnam.
The full magazine PDF is the binary; only the Fornwalt article is transcribed below (OCR, lightly cleaned). It is independently published primary-source corroboration of Harris’s Vietnam service record and is rich biographical/narrative material.
BOB FORNWALT — January 15, 1947 to September 22, 2025 — By Harris Himes
On September 21, 2025, a justifiably monumental memorial service was held for Christian hero, Charlie Kirk. The day after, another American hero — a Marine — died inauspiciously in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. His name is Robert George Fornwalt. Both died before their time — one by assassination and the other by cancer. Our flag at Big Sky Christian Center in Hamilton, Montana flew at half-staff earlier for Kirk and then for Fornwalt.
Bob was a man who looked at the world with a smirk on his lips and a matching spark in his steady eyes. He knew what he knew — and he knew it — as many have discovered. He exhibited a sly sense of humor to temper his occasional sternness. All of us Marine tankers knew him as “Fornwalt.” One of his closest and oldest Marine friends — Ronald Shuppy (“Shuppy”) — always refers to him as, “Bobby.” They went through tank school together at Del Mar and have remained in frequent touch up until a few days before Bobby’s death. In later years, I called him, “Bob,” along with other choice epithets, “Pig-Headed” and “Turkey.” I was probably the last Marine to have talked with him.
I first met Bob in July of 1967 when I took command of 1st Platoon, Bravo Company, Third Tank Battalion at the Rock Pile, just west of Camp Carroll on the DMZ. Shuppy chortles as he often reminds me of my advent. I stuck my head in their bunker to meet them, and — to him — I looked like a young kid. And so it began.
That first night, the Rock Pile came under a rocket attack. I ordered my tanks to disperse to the perimeter. They did — all but one. The tank commanded by my platoon sergeant was buttoned up. Never moved. … I sent him packing to Camp Carroll the following morning. …
From then on, I was wise enough to learn from Sgt. Fred Mace, LCpl Bob Fornwalt, and LCpl Charlie Carson how to run a combat tank platoon. Bob had already done one thirteen-month tour and had come back for another. After I was medevaced the next month, Fred rotated home, and shortly thereafter, after I had returned, Charlie was severely wounded while TC-ing the tank I was on and was sent back to the states. Then, it was mainly Bob who continued to give me wise counsel all the way to Khe Sanh in May, 1968. And he knew what he was doing — and the whole platoon respected his quiet competence.
The NVA were fortunate that Bob saw little combat, but in one fracas before my arrival in country, he was wounded in his right hand. With customary stoicism, he didn’t go to the corpsman and didn’t receive the purple heart he warranted. If I had the opportunity to go back in time, I would put him in for the Legion of Merit, given the role he played in our platoon and company — and for his Purple Heart.
[Shuppy’s “tape deck” vignette — the lieutenant who barked “shut that f*ckin’ thing off,” Bobby’s unhurried, hound-dog-like restoration of “his order”; “Lt. Himes was still on the hospital ship after being wounded in August of 67.” The replacement lieutenant who “separated himself from our platoon with a barrier like two-strand barbed wire”; “When Lt. Himes returned, the lieutenant was transferred up to Con Thien. I heard later that he unfortunately caught a bullet between the eyes.”]
Bob took care of his pack, including me. When Jeff Griffith (“Griff”) became incapacitated due to a stroke … Bob drove the four or so hours from Lancaster to visit him. … He also kept in touch with Harry Christensen (“Super Jew”) in Marble Head, MA. … usually with Mike Parker (a Marine-at-heart) who helps me run the shelter, and sometimes our Anatolian Shepherd-mix dog, Theo. Mike did most of the driving. We are all family.
Contrary to Marine protocol, I addressed my men by their first names … Since we fought together and lived together, my men were family. … I was routinely called on the carpet by a string of company commanders over my ten-and-a-half months in the field for my lapse because I wouldn’t play the hypocrite and resort to last names …
[On officer selection and the college-degree “entry ticket”; “Bob was such a man. He got a degree in mechanical engineering after active duty.”]
We all love and miss Bob mightily. … Just as Charlie Kirk knew his Lord, so did Bob Fornwalt. And they’re both with Him. I can also envision Bob’s reunion with Griff and Super Jew — three now-glorified tankers once-again together on an eternal mission — unstoppable. I hope to join them with Shuppy and others of my platoon when we get there.
Bob is survived by his faithful daughter, Tracy Fornwalt, and her sister’s kids, Gabe, Leah, and Opal … He is survived also by his beloved companion of many years, Susan Holmberg … Susan was holding his hand when he died.
I can hear Bob saying: “Lieutenant, you don’t need to write some kinda eulogy — but you’ll do what you want to do, no matter what I say.” And Bob’s right. He’s always right.
(Article includes period photos captioned “Bob in Nam” and “Bob and Lt Himes in Nam.” Full OCR of pp. 42–44 retained in the 2026-06-12 intake working notes; the magazine PDF is the canonical binary.)
No SSN / service number / DOB-for-Harris in the article. It names third parties (Fornwalt’s survivors Tracy Fornwalt, Susan Holmberg; fellow Marines) — published in a public newsletter, so already public; not sensitive PII for Harris.