PINE BLUFF — One look at Malvin “J.J.” Jones and ground personnel pulled him from the buzzing chopper. The soldier was on an ambushed patrol and it was apparent he was in the worst shape.
“I was the first one they grabbed because I had blood all over me,” he recalls. “They kept asking me, ‘Where are you hurt?’ I kept telling them, I wasn’t wounded.”
The blood splashed across Jones’ broad frame was his comrades’, men who had probably been betrayed by the very kids they’d come upon in the jungle, kids Jones wouldn’t let his comrades kill to preserve their position. Three men who were all alive and would ultimately survive thanks to the Pine Bluff native.
“I guess my survival instincts kicked in,” Jones said as easily as if telling a really good fishing story.
To say he’s an unlikely hero is something of an understatement. J.J. Jones, 66, never wanted to be a soldier, much less in combat. The eldest of 13, his first reaction to Uncle Sam’s 1967 summons was to run the other way, leaving college in Louisiana for Kansas City where he lived for a year with his father.
“I told (my father) I skipped it once I could do it again,” he said. “He said no, this time you’re going.”
To his amazement, Jones fell in love with the military, even when it became apparent where he was headed. When his outfit was assigned special weapons training, “that can only mean one thing — Vietnam.” he said. He deployed, got his bearings, adapted.
Now, Jones watched the medics swarm the wounded men once they determined he was whole. Turns out they were half right — he didn’t have a scratch on him, but his soul had been blown apart.
“What freaked me out was they were firing at me, but the bullets weren’t anywhere near me,” he said. “Then I took out my canteen to take a drink and it was shot full of holes.
“I went to see the chaplain to thank God for letting me survive, and I don’t know if I was imagining it or what, but all I could see was this bright light hovering. Then the priest came in.”
Something was shook loose and Jones, a Baptist, started attending Mass regularly. One day he asked about converting and knowing the traumatic event he had been through, the priest asked if he was sure.
“Told him yeah, I was sure. It already said I was Roman Catholic on my dog tags,” he said. “They made a mistake when they issued them, and I never thought to have it changed.”
Jones was baptized Catholic in 1969 but that didn’t make him bulletproof. He was pegged seven times in a firefight that ended his combat career. He came home in 1970, re-enlisted in 1971 and spent the next 13 years stationed in Germany. He retired a sergeant, decorated with the Distinguished Service Cross, the military’s second highest honor, along with the purple heart, bronze star, silver star and others.
The sad reality is such commendations don’t put food on the table and Jones found civilian life challenging. A workplace accident finished off a knee that had been weakened by jumping out of helicopters and he was classified permanently disabled-unemployable in 1997. But he wasn’t through carrying people.
He started finding ways to serve St. Peter Church in Pine Bluff, volunteering in the school library and doing other odd jobs around the parish. He helped form a neighborhood watch and cruises the block in the morning, knowing thieves like to strike once people leave for work. He’s also a cornerstone of the parish’s new community soup kitchen.
His most unique ministry started when a friend who worked at a dairy asked if he could use some eggs — about 40 dozen to be exact. A carton of eggs can’t be sold if some are damaged, no matter how many good eggs get thrown away in the bargain. Jones took them off his hands, picked out the broken ones and distributed the good ones to families he knew were struggling, something he still does today.
Like running through a firefight, he simply shrugs when asked what motivates him to do what he does.
“Being Catholic inspires me to serve,” he said. “I always saw the Catholics out trying to help people in need. When I know of somebody who needs help, I do what I can.”
