Memorial Day passed a few weeks ago. Most people have moved on—and that’s fine. I usually celebrate Memorial Day like most people. We often have family activities, including a cookout. Hamburgers, hot dogs, potato salad. That sort of thing. I’m most definitely grateful for those service men and women that made the ultimate sacrifice so we could enjoy the freedoms we enjoy. Most years that’s about the extent of my Memorial Day celebrations.
But this year was different. For some reason, I found myself thinking about two guys I served with during a deployment back in the early 1980s: George Grape and Bill Bisonette.
We were on the USS Dale, doing a Mediterranean/Indian Ocean cruise in 1982 and 1983. George and Bill were cryptologic technicians—CTs—temporarily assigned to the Dale. Their job was to monitor radio traffic in the region. Some of the CTs spoke Russian, others spoke Arabic. These guys weren’t just along for the ride—they were the ears in the dark, picking up things the rest of us weren’t even aware were out there.
I didn’t know George all that well, but I remember visiting a few liberty ports with him. Nice guy. Quiet. Always respectful. Bill, I knew a bit better. We used to hang out in the first class petty officers’ lounge and talk. Nothing classified, obviously, but he’d give us just enough of a read on what was going on to help us connect the dots.
Toward the end of our deployment, we were preparing to “outchop” from the Mediterranean Sea—Navy talk for heading out of the region and going home—when we got word: the CTs and their classified gear were being diverted to Beirut. The rest of us stayed on the Dale, but they were offloaded in port and reassigned. I had access to the Combat Information Center as one of the leading computer techs on the ship, so I understood what was happening even if most didn’t. It was serious.
Here’s some context, in case you weren’t around back then—or just never heard the full story. 
In 1983, the U.S. had sent Marines, sailors, and soldiers to Beirut, Lebanon as part of a Multinational Force (MNF), alongside troops from France, Italy, and the UK. The goal was to stabilize Beirut after years of civil war, Israeli invasion, and the PLO’s (Palestine Liberation Organization) withdrawal.
The PLO was a major political and paramilitary group representing the Palestinian people, especially active during the time of the Lebanese Civil War and the broader Middle East conflicts of the 1970s and 1980s.
Tensions were high. The U.S. presence was seen by some groups as taking sides— especially after U.S. ships provided naval gunfire support to Lebanese government forces. It wasn’t just peacekeeping anymore. It was dangerous.
On October 23, 1983, a suicide truck bomb destroyed the U.S. Marine barracks at the Beirut International Airport. It killed 241 Americans—220 Marines, 18 sailors, and 3 soldiers. In addition, another suicide truck bomb stuck the barracks where the French military personnel were staying.
That bomb killed 58 French service members. Here’s a great article that will give you more context on what happened: U.S. Remembers Service Members Killed in Beirut Bombings 40 Years Ago
At the time, none of us on the Dale realized how that event would affect us. We had returned
to Mayport, Florida by then. Sometime after we returned, word started going around. Those of us who had served with the CTs were stunned.
We knew they’d been sent to Beirut, but we didn’t know exactly where they were or what they were doing. Then we heard that the “Navy Times” would be publishing the full list of names of those killed by the truck bomb.
We bought a copy of the “Navy Times” and flipped straight to the list, hoping not to see any names we recognized. But there they were. Bill Bisonette. George Grape. I just remember sitting there, staring. I think part of me had held onto this quiet hope that they’d made it out.
Maybe they’d been stationed somewhere else. But they hadn’t. They were with us. Then they were gone. I don’t think about them every year. I won’t pretend I do. But this year—Memorial Day 2025—they came to mind. And I couldn’t just let that pass.
I’m writing this because I think their stories deserve to be told. George Grape and Bill Bisonette weren’t just names on a list. They were sailors. They were professionals. They showed up, did their job, and they gave their lives while serving their country.
There are people alive today who were born after 9/11—who’ve never seen war up close, who’ve never had to think about what it costs. But the freedoms we enjoy—the ability to grill in the backyard, enjoy a day off, spend time with family—people like George and Bill purchased that freedom with their lives. That’s what I was thinking about this past Memorial Day.
It’s hard not to reflect on what could’ve been—on the lives they didn’t get to live. I came home. I got the time they didn’t. Time to rebuild. Time to start over. Time to figure out what mattered and put my energy into that. And that includes the work I’m doing now—building something of my own, on my own terms. Building my online business.
If you’re doing the same—if you’re building something that matters to you—I want to share a resource that might assist you in staying focused and moving forward with clarity:
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I’m online entrepreneur Richard Rawlings (Rick) Smith. Who else wants to join me in creating an online business that allows them to enjoy the lifestyle they want and deserve?