Marine Officer James Tangeman (Class of 1967) killed in Vietnam

By Ron Johnston

All Bill Tucholke could do was sob after learning of 23-year-old James Tangeman’s death in Vietnam during the late summer of 1968.

Make that cry and laugh at the same time.

“The last time I saw Jimmy was just before he shipped out to Vietnam when for some unknown reason I decided to hitchhike home from college in the Upper Peninsula (of Michigan),” Tucholke said. “He borrowed my clubs while he was home and gave his mom specific instructions that if anything happened to him to make sure I’d get ‘his’ clubs.” Tucholke paused. Jimmy Tangeman in his ‘Berg basketball uniform. “When Mrs. Tangeman called to tell me about his untimely death, she made sure to tell me about the golf clubs that in actuality were mine to begin with,” he said. “I couldn’t help but realize then that Jimmy would have the last laugh at my expense.

No question about it, Jimmy Tangeman had a keen sense of humor for a “jock.”

Long before Tangeman starred on the basketball hardwood at Heidelberg College (now Heidelberg University), he was a pretty fair country baseball player in Flat Rock, Mich. A right-handed pitcher, he was 12 years old in 1957 when he was first introduced to 10-year-old Tucholke during the summer recreation baseball season.

James Tangeman in “I was Jimmy’s catcher,” Tucholke said. “Later, when he was about 1967. 13 or 14, my dad taught him how to throw his first curveball. And he became quite a good pitcher.”

Generally, there were two to three games slated weekly. Sometimes more if there were rescheduled contests due to rainouts.

Back then, Tangeman had a Detroit Times (now merged with the Detroit News) paper route, and Tucholke, who became a fast friend, assisted him on the job. “I helped him, so that we could get done quicker,” Tucholke said, “so that we could play baseball in a vacant field across town.” Tucholke smiled. “We played with about 10 to 12 other kids about the same age as us. We had to play right field out – unless you batted left-handed – because we didn’t have enough players to cover the entire outfield.

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“Jimmy was like the pied piper in the neighborhood as we started playing pick-up games closer to home. Groups of younger kids would follow him around seeking out his attention. He was a really good instructor with the younger kids, especially those who didn’t have such a great home life.”

During the summer of 1959, Tangeman and Tucholke began playing golf. After delivering newspapers, the twosome rode with clubs on their bicycle handlebars to a course, almost three miles away.

“Golf was special, and we had to have enough money to be able to play,” Tucholke said, “and, of course, we walked the nine holes and looked for lost golf balls whenever we could. We always had to end by about 3 or 3:30 p.m. so we could eat and get ready to play in the recreation league baseball games that either started at 5:30 or 7 p.m.”

Of all the sports that the 6-foot-3 Tangeman played, though, basketball was his game. During his senior season at Flat Rock High, he was honored as a Class B third-team all-state pick by the Detroit Free Press.

“I used to love to watch him play basketball,” Tucholke said. “He had some really fluid moves under the basket and a really sweet jump shot.”

After high school graduation, Tangeman elected to attend rural Heidelberg College, almost a two-hour drive due south of Flat Rock.

“My guess is that a high school friend, Herbie Mell, and Jim just decided that they would enroll at Heidelberg together,” said Ed Hyland, a Student Prince basketball teammate of Tangeman for three seasons at Heidelberg. “Herb was a football player and lasted only through the fall of his sophomore year when he returned to Michigan.”

An NCAA Division III, Ohio Athletic Conference school, Heidelberg would turn out to be Tangeman’s “home” for the most part of the next four years. With an enrollment of about 1,000 students, Heidelberg was a good fit for Tangeman. There he pledged Nu Sigma Alpha and, of course, played basketball.

“Jim was my fraternity brother at Heidelberg,” said Doug Tait. “We were ‘Heids,’ a nickname for the men’s society. Tange (he was also called ‘Tango’) was a standout basketball player for the college, and never seemed to stand still or stop talking. He was the fastest talker I ever met.”

John Crum, another fraternity brother, agreed, and added, “We played a lot of cards together. But my best memory of Jim was of him hitting the winning basket against Baldwin-Wallace.”

Susie Wilhelm, a Heidelberg classmate, remembered Tangeman as a “good guy.” “Yes, Jim was a great basketball player,” she said, “and very approachable.”

Hyland said that Tangeman “was a truly skilled shooter.”

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“Offense was Jim’s game,” Hyland continued. “He was more of a set shooter, although his momentum in shooting the ball often propelled him into the air. One of the aspects of shooting is to keep your elbow under the ball, and Jim was very good in practicing that technique, as well as following through with a precise wrist snap. When Tango was on his game, all that you had to do was deliver him the ball within shooting range, and he could score points in a bundle – and really scorch the opposition.”

Hyland laughed. “We used to kid that if you passed the ball to Jim, there was a 99 percent likelihood that you would not see the ball again,” he said. “He was definitely a scoring threat, and he would put the ball up from anywhere on the court.”

Tangeman was also a very composed and focused player out on the floor, according to Hyland. Fans and people could be yelling and screaming themselves hoarse, but nothing ever seemed to phase Tangeman. “Jim took the sport seriously, but it was never a do-or-die situation with him,” Hyland said. “While he was a hard-nosed competitor on the court, as soon as the game was over, he did not replay it in his mind, did not dissect his own performance, and did not change his behavior whether the contest ended in a win or a loss.”

Before the beginning of Tangeman’s sophomore year at Heidelberg College, the U.S. Congress passed the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution on Aug. 7, 1964. The war drums were now beating in earnest in that small Southeast Asian nation of South Vietnam.

Tangeman was engaged to his high school sweetheart Charlene, but that ended when he returned to Flat Rock from Heidelberg during his sophomore year. “I accompanied Jimmy to her parents’ house to retrieve a hope chest that he’d given her that was packed full of special items they planned to use after getting married,” Tucholke said.

One hot summer morning in 1965, Tangeman and Tucholke – who were employed as college help at the Ford Motor Company plant in Ypsilanti, Michigan – were driving along the highway to work when they spotted flames coming out of the roof of a two-story house.

“The fire department came and handed us a hose that we manned until the rest of the volunteer fire department arrived,” Tucholke said. “Ironically, I knew the family living there. They’d been one of my paper route customers. Fortunately, they were all safe, and Jimmy and I were eventually able to get to work on time.”

Also that summer, as things were heating up in South Vietnam, Tangeman enlisted in the United States Marine Corps Officers Candidate School. The following year, he went to basic training at Parris Island, S.C.

“When Jimmy graduated from Heidelberg in 1967, I can still remember how proud he was to be the only graduate in the (Seiberling Gym) auditorium wearing Marine whites,” Tucholke said.

On that very same day (June 11), Tangeman, along with getting his college diploma, also received his commission as an officer in the Marine Corps. Later, he attended basic school in

3 Quantico, Va., and artillery school at Ft. Sill, Okla. The following summer, Tangeman was in Vietnam.

To the Marines, the area approximately 10 or so kilometers due south of Da Nang was called “Dodge City” for obvious reasons. Everyone seemed to be armed and shooting at each other, just like they apparently did (according to Hollywood) in the Old Wild West town in America. It was an extremely dangerous place to be in the Republic of Vietnam in the spring and summer of 1968.

This was where Tangeman ended up in July, at a place in the Tangeman in Vietnam. vicinity of Go Noi Island. Located in the Dien Ban District, Quang Nam Province, I Corps, it wasn’t really an island, but it was surrounded by rivers, streams and roads. With its low ground, the area was honeycombed with caves, tunnels, bamboo, thorn hedges and drainage ditches – ideal terrain for an ambush. The local population for the most part was allied with the Viet Cong and the North Vietnamese Army (NVA) regulars, who used the “island” as a staging area for attacks against Da Nang and the surrounding region.

In early May, American forces from Da Nang went on the offensive in Operation Allen Brook to prevent the NVA from initiating an assault. The fighting was on and off for the next three months. During this time, on June 23, 1968, at midnight, the Vietnam War (or the American War as it’s called in today’s Vietnam) became the longest war in U.S. history (six years, six months, and one day).

On July 23, Battalion Landing Team (BLT) 2/7, Tangeman’s outfit, launched Operation Swift Play, which was designed to complement Operation Allen Brook. It was a surprise thrust into the Da The Mountain area, 6 kilometers south of Go Noi Island. During a weeklong sweep, the Marines uncovered numerous enemy caches and base areas.

“We learned that Jimmy had been ill for some time on a ship before going on that mission,” said Sandi Simmons, Tangeman’s sister.

A BLT included an infantry battalion with attached forces suitable for the BLT’s intended use. In Vietnam, a BLT usually had an artillery section, and Tangeman was an artillery officer. On July 29, Tangeman, along with Jack Strong of Horseheads, N.Y. and Paul Shireman of Jacksonville, Ark., were killed in action. While leading his men, Tangeman had stepped on a land mine.

“The family was so devastated,” Simmons said.

Said Tucholke, “You know, before Jimmy left for Vietnam, he told me he wasn’t coming back, I guess he had a premonition or something.”

After his body was returned stateside, 2nd Lieutenant James L. Tangeman was laid to rest in Michigan Memorial Park in Flat Rock. At the time, he was survived by his father and mother

4 (Jim and Madeline) and three younger sisters (Sandi, Barbara, and Joanne). Since Tangeman’s death, his parents have divorced. His mother just recently passed away, while his father has Alzheimer’s disease. Tangeman’s sisters still reside in Michigan.

Sadly, very few people at Flat Rock High recall Tangeman. “Once when traveling in southern Michigan four or five years ago, I stopped at Jim’s old high school,” Hyland said. “Only one teacher remembered him, and that memory was faint.”

Tangeman’s name appears on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. “I think of Jim often,” Hyland said, “and have visited The Wall in D.C. to say a prayer in front of his name. He was great fun to be around, and in those (Heidelberg) days, he didn’t take life too serious.”

In January of 2007, Hyland, a retired development officer at the University of Findlay (Ohio), contributed to Heidelberg in Tangeman’s memory for the refurbishing of the school’s basketball locker room.

Tucholke, now a retired social worker living just west of Kalamazoo, Mich., said that Tangeman “was a really great role model. He was an all-around good guy and has been greatly missed by his family and all who knew and loved him.”

Even today, whenever Tucholke is on the golf course, his good friend is always in the back of his mind. “Jim’s special putter was left in the bag,” he said. “I can’t tell you how many times that he and that putter beat me on the last hole. To this very day, I still use it and think about him with every putt.”

Posted in November 2020.

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