Wilkes County Veterans History Project: Kerry Nichols

Ronald Kerry Nichols was elected to the North Carolina American Baseball Hall of Fame in March 2001 (one of three).

He was awarded the National Defense Service Medal, Vietnam Service Medal, Vietnam Campaign Medal, Good Conduct Medal,

Army Commendation Medal and was the 212th MP Sentry Dog Handler.  

Kerry's Company 212 MP Sentry Dog was awarded an Army Meritorious Unit Citation and Army Presidential Unit Citation.

Hello, I'm Kerry Nichols. I was born on February 9, 1949, at the Old Hospital in North Wilkesboro. My parents are Ronald and Mozelle Nichols. My mother's doctor was Dr. Fred C. Hubbard, one of the few doctors in Wilkes County. I am the oldest of four children. My siblings’ names are Sharon, Cathy, and Jeff Nichols. Unfortunately, I had an older brother who died at birth. Sharon is married to Ronald Huffman, Cathy is married to Ronnie Shumate, and my younger brother, Jeff, is married to Lori Miller. My grandparents, Com and Cola Parsons, raised me for most of my early years. I fondly called them Grandmother and Gan Gan. They lived at the end of a dirt road near a creek called Parsons Road. They had a large garden, and two cows that they milked, and they sold the milk and butter to the local community. They also raised hogs, which they would slaughter in the fall to make sausage and hams to hang in the smokehouse.           

I started the first grade at old Millers Creek School, which is now Millers Creek Baptist Church. In the sixth grade, I liked this young brown-headed girl who always wore it in a ponytail. I was shy at the time, especially when it came to girls. I remember thinking this girl was so pretty and we went to the same church, Pleasant Grove Baptist Church on NC 16 off 421. I wasn’t thinking that later this beautiful girl named Vicki Jo Miller would be my bride.

I went to West High School, where played football, and baseball, and was on the first wrestling team coached by the late C.H. Necessary. At West, we had some great coaches. Coach Triplett, Coach Wellborn, Coach Knight, Coach McGuire, Coach Love and Coach Brown. These men not only taught me the games, but they also taught me about life.

When starting the 9^th grade, a friend made a $1 bet with me that I wouldn’t ask this brown-headed 9^th grader to sit with me on the bus. I won the bet and to my knowledge he never paid me. This attractive lady was my bride-to-be; I think it was love at first sight between us. We dated all through high school and I asked her to be my bride our senior year, and she said yes. Our wedding was planned for June 3, 1967, three days after graduation. One of the guys in the wedding was Gurney Miller who joined the US Marine Corps and was killed in Vietnam in 1968.

In 1968, I worked for the NCDOT, and Vicki was employed by Northwestern Bank. Towards the end of the year, I was sent to Charlotte along with many others, for a military examination.

In February 1969, I received a letter from the President of the United States, Richard Nixon. The letter began with "Greetings." It stated that I was required to report to the Selective Service Office on 9th Street in North Wilkesboro, in order to travel to Charlotte, NC, and be sworn in on March 26, 1969.    

On that morning, three buses filled with young boys, many not even 18, departed from the wonderful town of North Wilkesboro to start a new career working for Uncle Sam. When we arrived in Charlotte, we underwent another examination and were then sworn in. We were assigned a service number and instructed to memorize it by the time we reached the Army Base at Fort Bragg.

I remember when we pulled up to the building, a tough-looking drill sergeant welcomed us into the Army. He was saying words I had never heard before. I had been around a lot of people who cussed, but this was entirely different.

Some of the guys I had basic training with were Wayne Nichols, Alvin Huffman, and James Harris. Basic training was intense. You entered the military as a boy, but you quickly became a man. I was raised to say, ‘yes sir’ and ‘yes ma'am’, which was a no-no in the Army. I suppose I did more extra push-ups during those eight weeks of training than anyone else in our company.

Upon graduation, I was promoted to E2 and I had orders to go to Fort Gordon, Georgia for Military Police Training. The training I enjoyed the most was the hand-to-hand judo training in the sawdust pits in June and July 1969. I also remember something happened to our fatigues that were being cleaned.  We were down to one set, and we had to wear that set for three days in the hot summer of Georgia.

At the end of Advanced Individual Training (AIT), we received our orders, mine was Military Police Sentry Dog Handler. I had two weeks of extra training at Fort Gordon. My orders also said to report to Oakland California, the destination for six weeks of Dog Training School in Okinawa, and then Long Bin South Vietnam. I remember the first day I stood before my fierce German Shepard as I approached the kennel where he was standing, all I could see were his long sharp teeth like someone had filled them into razor-like instruments of destruction.

Above the kennel door it read the name KING and his service number was M151.  I just knew I was going to be bitten by this 90-pound monster. I called out his name as he approached me, nothing but a piece of chain link fence separating the two of us. When we got close, I said in a strong voice, “Sit” and he did while waggling his tail.

I carefully opened the gate with my leash and muzzle in hand while talking to King the whole time. The training was great; King was on his second tour of duty, having already been to Vietnam with another handler. We used the attack suit, which was made of burlap and extremely padded pants with suspenders, along with a fully padded jacket and arms. A person wearing the suit would challenge the dogs, and we would release them to attack the person in the suit. Among our group, King was the most aggressive dog. I can say this because I was bitten three times by my dog when I would command him to stop and put my hand around his throat. I often wondered why God had paired me with such an aggressive animal. It was clear that I needed someone I could rely on to watch my front, sides, and back against the enemy.

We loaded on a C130 cargo plane with 40 dog handlers and 40 dogs in their containers. As we prepared to land, it was different from our usual landings. We descended rapidly to avoid enemy fire as we approached the landing field. After sitting in rope seats for five hours, exiting the plane was a relief despite the heat and smell. Upon arrival at Long Bin 212th Military Police Sentry Dog Unit, every soldier was promoted to Specialist 4. Our mission was to guard the perimeter at Long Bin ammo dump, and we faced small arms fire and three rocket attacks per week for three months.

In February, I along with two of my best friend’s brothers-in-arms, Gary Allen from Seattle, Washington and Carl Foley from Springfield, Illinois was with a small detachment in more southern Vietnam called LongThang. There we received more rocket attacks and arms fire. I tried to write home each day if all was good. At first, the rocket attacks and small arms fire were to break our morale, but then it got to a point where the saying was, “It don’t mean nothing, nothing at all.” We didn’t know much about what was going on back home. I believe we were sent here for a reason, to fight against Communism and freedom of the South Vietnamese.

When I returned home, I saw the true picture: the protest and the government I loved so much. Many didn't come home to a hero's welcome; many gave their lives for what they thought was right. When asked about the hardest trial I went through, yes, I missed my wife and family, my church, and playing travel softball in the spring and summer. These were great. What bothered me the most was the last morning in Long Thang, as I loaded into the jeep for the final time with King.

When I arrived at Long Bin, I was to take King to the MP Veterinarian Hospital to remove a large cancerous growth on his chest. The surgeon told me that I could come back and say goodbye when I returned from processing my plans to leave the country. When I arrived back four hours later, King was lying on a surgical gurney. They had performed the surgery and put a large bandage on his chest, with an IV running into his front leg. King was still under from being put to sleep. I got on my knees, raised his head to my face, and thanked him for being there for me and for his protection for 13 ½ months. Some will say men are not supposed to cry, but I cried, and this has bothered me ever since I came home.

I remember boarding the huge jet plane. When the wheels left the ground, what a joy it was to see the other servicemen who were coming home. I arrived back in Wilkes County on Saturday, October 31, 1970. The next morning, Vicki and I went to Pleasant Grove Baptist Church, where we had been married, to renew our wedding vows. On December 18, 1972, Vicki gave birth to our first son, Randy Parsons Nichols, and then on September 17, 1974, we had our second son, Ronald Kelly Nichols. I often regret naming Kelly the name I did. I did not like Ronald, but "It doesn't mean nothing, nothing at all."

We now have 6 grandchildren and 6 great-grandchildren; the Lord has blessed us immensely. When I got home, I went back to college at Wilkes Community College earning an associate degree in Business and Criminology. God was grooming me in coaching baseball American Legion Post 31 Baseball and being selected to coach the first Wilkes Community Baseball team for six years. Vicki and I were working in the youth group at Mt. Pleasant Baptist Church, then we accepted the youth pastor position at Lewis Fork Baptist Church. We were there for five years but God was dealing with me; I went to Piedmont Bible College in Winston Salem and received my Bachelor’s, then proceeded to get my Master’s in Biblical Studies and began filling in for pastors in the area when needed. In 2014, I was accepted to be pastor at Parkway Garden Baptist Church on Armory Road in North Wilkesboro we are still there today.

I am a life member of American Legion Post 31 in North Wilkesboro, a life member of VFW Post 1142, and a life member of the DAV. I pray daily for our military, our country, and our elected leaders. Our flag stands for freedom, which most people take for granted, but not the veterans who have served. On June 3, 2024, Vicki and I celebrated our 57th wedding anniversary. I love her more each day. I thank Jesus Christ for saving me and bringing us together.