Davis Allen Jones was always looking out for the people he loved.
He made sure his younger siblings were safe on their childhood adventures.
He encouraged his school classmates to pursue their dreams, motivating them to take those extra steps.
Even when he headed into Vietnam to serve his country, he was more worried about how hard his mother was working back home.
“I will always remember the sweetness and gentleness that Davis embodied,” said his sister Bonni Jones. “...Davis was loved and respected by his comrades. But I will never get over the fact that Davis never even got to vote for the politicians who sent him to Vietnam to be killed.”
That is what heroes are made of, unselfishly looking out for others.
And Davis Allen Jones was a hero.
The Peacemaker
Davis Allen Jones was born on May 9, 1947. He was the older twin brother of David Jones.
Davis grew up with his family in rural Yazoo County on Old Highway 49 and attended Bentonia Elementary School.
After the death of their mother Clara Mae Jones Eadie, some of the children were adopted by their uncle and aunt, Eslie and Betty Jones. At nine years old, Davis moved to his new home in Ohio in 1956.
Davis’ siblings remember his kind spirit and gentle nature. Of the two twins, Davis was labeled as “the peacemaker.”
“David was funny and would get me in trouble,” said sister Angela Jones Daves. “But Davis was quiet and would save my rear end.”
The Jones children would often visit their grandparents’ farm. The farm provided many adventures for the young children.
“Granddaddy had a bull and ditches that we called gullies,” Angela said. “We were always told, ‘don’t tease the bull and stay out of the gullies.’”
But the daring younger twin David would often explore those gullies with his siblings right behind him.
“No one would know so we went into the gully,” Angela recalled. “The bigger boys climbed out, but I couldn't make it. David was hollering ‘I'm gonna tell’ while Davis was helping me out.”
Angela said it was also Davis who saved her just in time when she teased the bull she was warned to stay away from on the farm.
Even at a young age, Davis was the one who stayed behind to help others out.
Davis was always looking out for his family.
“My memories of Davis are his quick laugh, patience, and easy smile,” said his sister Leslie Jones Simonson. “He needed all those things to be big brother to so many of us.”
Davis played Army with his brothers, using a fallen tree for a hiding place. He taught his brothers how to play baseball, eventually handing down his mitt to his younger brother John.
He and his twin brother David sometimes switched classes at school. With their true identities hidden, one would attend the class he prefered while the other played the part in another.
Davis worked on a paper route. He found time to teach his young siblings how to ride a bike. He raced slot cars in the family basement.
And when a tornado hit the small community he lived in, he was among those who helped reset the tombstones in the local cemetery.
Davis was always willing to help.
“The thing I remember the most was how kind and gentle he was,” said his sister Laura Jones Butti. “He must have been to give his little sister so many piggyback rides up and down the staircase without complaining.”
And Davis was always willing to help out around the house, without even being asked.
“Davis was always helping Mom or Dad around the house or playing with one of us,” Leslie added. “He did all with a gentle style.”
Davis’ kind nature went beyond the boundaries of his family. Ed Jackson, a classmate of Davis, said he was a good friend who always offered support.
“Davis encouraged me as a fledgling artist,” Jackson said. “He used to say, ‘Ed, you are really good at this.’ It was because of his validation that I made art my minor at Bowling Green State University.”
Davis loved and cared for each his siblings. But there was always something about the bond of his twin brother David. Many family members considered them one person.
“Since I shared a bedroom with them, I remember falling asleep with them reading by the light of the old, fluorescent headboard light, with them speaking quietly to each other...” said brother John Jones.
Two Brothers In Blue
The twin brothers would eventually both join the Marines.
“I remember David being home on 30-day leave,” Angela said. “It was Sunday, and David wore his dress blues to church. Mom and all eight of us kids in the station wagon left church to go to the bus station to pick up Davis.”
When they arrived at the bus station, David immediately ran inside to meet his brother.
“Mom did a double-take because at that moment, I could not tell you who was who,” Angela said. “Watching two Marines dressed in military dress blues, our twin brothers, identical...it was unbelievable, the two together.”
Davis was proud of his uniform and what it meant. Soon he learned that he would be heading to Vietnam.
From Paperboy to Mortar Man
Davis arrived in Vietnam on Feb. 15, 1967...the day after Valentine’s Day.
At just 20 years old, he was Corporal Davis Allen Jones. He was a mortar man.
Davis would write letters to his family regularly. Despite war and uncertainty around him, the young Marine planned for trips to take while on leave. He even wrote his sister Bonnie on his new hairstyle.
“Oh yes, I'm starting to comb my hair a different way now,” Davis wrote. “I'm going to have some pictures of me taken and my new hair style, I'll be a swinging dude, when I come home.”
Davis continued to worry about his mother and how hard she was working back home. Although he was on the other side of the world, he assured her that he would help with the bills once he returned home.
“Mom I wish you wouldn't work so much,” Davis wrote. “It's hard on you, even if you don't realize it. I'm going to talk to my career advisor and see if I can get stationed in Ohio when I leave here. If I can, I'll be able to help out at the house.”
The last letter Davis wrote home was dated Nov. 1, 1967.
“Please send homemade cookies and candy, it sounds great,” Davis wrote his mother. “You don't realize how much it helps to see and receive a package from home.”
“Well mama, I hate to close but not anything new around here,” his final line reads. “Be good, and please don't work so hard.”
The next day, Davis would be killed in action in the Quang Nam Province in South Vietnam.
Assault on Hill 25
Davis’ family didn’t know what happened on Hill 25 on Nov. 2, 1967 for many years. Through speaking with the survivors and fellow Marines that day, they would finally get some closure.
Hill 25 was located between two notorious strongholds of the North Vietnamese Army and the Viet Cong. The closest Marine company was seven miles away and could only be reached by helicopter or by a narrow dirt road.
The Marines on Hill 25 were part of the Mike Company. Davis was part of the Second Platoon.
Although they were considered small in number, the Marines were quite the force on that Hill. They patrolled aggressively and cut the enemy’s freedom of movement and supply lines.
The Viet Cong determined the destruction of the Marines of Mike Company was necessary.
“The Viet Congs also knew the Marine Corps tradition of never leaving our wounded or dead behind” a tribute to the Company reads. “They counted on the fact that Marines would rush to the rescue of their comrades. They had seen it time and time again. This time, they were going to use it to set a trap for Mike Company with Hill 25 as the bait.”
On Nov. 2, 1967, a Viet Cong unit of 100 men attacked Hill 25 at 2 a.m. Davis was among the Marines who fought back furiously from foxholes, trench lines and bunkers.
Of the 28 Marines that held Hill 25 until another platoon relieved the area, 10 were dead. Nine were wounded. Nine walked off the Hill.
“Around the body of one of our dead Marines lay seven enemies dead,” the tribute continues. “When last seen alive, he was swinging his 60mm mortar tube as a club against the Viet Congs who had overrun and surrounded his position. He was determined that the enemy not take his mortar.”
Corporal Davis Allen Jones was among the ten killed that horrific day.
Picking Up the Pieces
Davis’ family remembers his funeral with fine detail. It was a moment when time seemed to stand still as many of the younger siblings tried to make sense of everything.
Their kind, gentle brother had died defending his fellow Marines on top of a bloody hill, outnumbered but not completely outdone.
He died a hero. But he remained their guardian.
“I remember somebody trying to console me and telling me that I was a mighty lucky little boy to have a United States Marine as my guardian angel,” younger brother Philip said. “That made me proud.”
Davis’ name is located on Panel 29E, Line 11 of The Moving Wall.
