+---------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | NN NN AAAA MM MM VV VV EEEEEEE TTTTTTTT | | NNN NN AA AA MMM MMM VV VV EE TT | | NN N NN AA AA MM M M MM VV VV EE TT | | NN N NN AA AA MM M MM VV VV EE TT | | NN N NN AAAAAAAA MM MM VV VV EEEEE TT | | NN N NN AA AA MM MM VV VV EE TT | | NN NNN AA AA MM MM V V EE TT | | NN NN AA AA MM MM VVV EEEEEEE TT | | | | The International Newsletter for Vietnam Veterans | +---------------------------------------------------------------+ Editor in Chief: Todd Looney Assistant Editor: G. Joseph Peck Nam Vet is a special newsletter dedicated to Vietnam Veterans around the world, and provided electronically as a service to participants in the International Vietnam Veterans' Echo Conference (IVVEC) available on many FidoNet (tm) bulletin boards in the U.S., Europe, and Canada. Not all of the articles appearing in NAM VET are written by participants in the IVVEC, but the NAM VET is very much an electronic newsletter by, of, and for Vietnam veterans, their friends, wives and lovers. Articles from veterans or anyone else wishing to express themselves about Viet Nam or related experiences are invited to submit their writings for publication to the Vietnam Veterans Valhalla (143/27), the VETlink #1 (321/203), or to any node carrying the IVVEC whose sysop can forward your work from there. NAM VET is published monthly by the Vietnam Veterans Valhalla. The views expressed are not necessarily those of the NAM VET, it's staff or volunteers. The newsletter is made up of articles and other newsletters as well as other sources. We are not responsible for the content of this information nor are any of the above mentioned parties. Duplication and/or distribution is permitted for noncommercial purposes only. For use in other circumstances, please contact Todd Looney at (408) 947-7668. Table of Contents 1. KidsNews Special Editorial ............................... 2 VETLink #1 Editorial DEROS Delayed ...................... 3 2. SERVICES ................................................. 4 Peace With Honor? ........................................ 4 PERILOUS JOURNEY ......................................... 8 PTSD - Towards a Better Understanding .................... 10 3. MEMORIES ................................................. 32 Anatomy Of A Warrior ..................................... 32 Why Isn't Billy's Name Up There? ......................... 34 In Memory of a Young Bleeder ............................. 36 Dear Dad ................................................. 39 Family Ties .............................................. 42 And more! NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 1 11 November 1988 ================================================================= EDITORIALS ================================================================= From the desk of: Editor KidsNews Fido 1:100/525 =========================================================== VETERANS DAY ARTICLE =========================================================== Veterans Day is a special time. As Americans gather at cemeteries and memorials throughout this great land, we are reminded that fundamentally we are a family. We pause this day to reflect on the love and commitment of nearly 40 million living veterans who have served that family. We acknowledge that none have given fuller expression to that love than those who have died or been disabled in defense of our nation. We demonstrate today through our ceremonies and in our private thoughts and prayers America's lasting gratitude and admiration for those who have allowed us to prosper in peace and freedom. We reflect that such blessings are not universally enjoyed; that tyranny, aggression, and cruel terrorism challenge what so many Americans have fought and died to protect. We honor our veterans in a manner that befits the American family. Our nation might have chosen the anniversary of a great battle. Instead, we chose the anniversary od a great silence; the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month when the guns of World War I at last were still. We celebrate not war, but the end of war. We are a people of peace. As we look with hope toward the day when the guns are forever silent, let us once again express appreciation to those whose splended heritage lives on in a new generation of servicemen and women who have taken their places on the battlements of American freedom. Thanks America!...from KidsNews. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 2 11 November 1988 Editorial for Veterans Day 1988 by G. Joseph Peck VETLink #1 321/203 Pittsfield, MA "A good soldier never looks back" At least, that's what they told me all during my military training. They told the same thing to my uncles, my father and my grandfather. Probably YOU, YOUR father and YOUR relatives, too. "Never, never look back; always, always keep your eyes fixed on your objective - and the one after that." I don't remember them teaching any of us how to be human, how to think and act and feel. The only *REAL*, *super-disciplined* training in our young lives - and it was training in how to kill, how to look at another human as an enemy that is to be destroyed. That's the way STRONG men did it - the Patton's, Auddie Murphy's and all the rest. They NEVER looked back; they NEVER let themselves become idle - always reaching new goals, beginning new involvements; they NEVER took the time to FEEL... It worked for awhile. I created my own "safe" places to hide where, according to all the onlooking world, I was busy and productive ("prolific" I think they call it in the writing world) - but in my busyness, I never gave myself time to look up, never wanted to see those uncomfortable things I could remember from yesterday. Too busy lookin' forward... I think it happened at The Wall in Washington... or maybe it was when one of our brothers or sisters said that they, too, felt numb and as if their life was meaningless... or it could have been when my Dad died and then, shortly thereafter, my Mother... Somehow, with all its pressures, all its desirable goals, all its urgency *LIFE* suddenly said *STOP* and when, as my training has taught me, I looked for an alternative route, it came back and said: "I MEANT... all the way!" Stopping forward momentum wasn't comfortable - wasn't something I'd been taught was OKAY, wasn't my lifestyle. My friends whose names are on The Wall; My parents who had yearned for happiness and contentment for their children; My family who can only imagine the things that experience has taught me, only hope to benefit - rather than suffer - from the pitfalls I'd learned to avoid... Stop? Not me... never... But when I did... I found tears; I found sadness; I found some painful, bitter and unpleasant memories. No wonder I kept my head down; no WONDER I kept busy - so busy I'd never have a chance to look back! By keeping so busy and never, never taking the time to just savor Life - as it is, with its ups and its downs - little did I realize how I was perpetuating the pains of all the yesterdays by holding inside of me all the hurts and the losses and the grief. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 3 11 November 1988 Since then, I've learned that sadness and grief are part of the healing process, part of getting better, part of letting go those things - feeding upon themselves - that disturb and hold one back... part of the process of learning to be human again. I'm writing this the eve of Veterans' Day - a day we'll all take a little time to remember... remember the sacrifices and the pain, the successes and the failures... the PRICE of the FREEDOM we all today enjoy... and many have paid for. I hope that, in sharing my own personal experiences here, you or someone you know will find YOUR way a little easier, will take time to remember we're all in this together... the good and the bad - and there's growth and healing in it all... 'til next month... Show a brother/sister veteran That YOU care... Ci'ao for Ni'ao -Joe- ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 4 11 November 1988 ================================================================= SERVICES ================================================================= U.S. VETS LEFT BEHIND WITH "PEACE WITH HONOR" DID YOU KNOW? The North Vietnamese refused to take responsibility for negotiating on behalf of their communist allies in Laos or Cambodia, and Kissinger did not want to further complicate the talks by allowing those elements to participate directly? Kissinger found the solution when he convinced the North Vietnamese to make a "non-binding verbal agreement" to speak for the Pathet Lao and the Khmer Rouge. The Vietnamese were adamant, however, that such representation not be the final agreement. This did not prevent Kissinger from pretending that he had their assurance for the release of the prisoners which the North Vietnamese , who were always careful and exact with their wording, referred to those as "detained in Laos". (Hanoi was saying at the same time that there were no prisoners being held in Cambodia by the Khmer Rouge.) But the North Vietnamese, either more skillful or more resolute, or the stronger negotiating position, had established their own "articles of enforcement". They and their Pathet Lao allies had over 1000 American prisoners in their hands and they would only release about half of them initially. They felt certain that rest could be used to force U.S. payment of the promised aid. The Vietnamese had waited in amazement, throughout the war, As American search and rescue teams sometimes flew as many as 300 sorties in the effort to save one downed U.S. pilot. America's fighting men had repeatedly demonstrated the value they placed on the lives and freedom of their comrades. Hanoi know WE knew they had many more than the 501 prisoners on the February 1st list. They knew WE KNEW the Pathet Lao were holding hundreds of prisoners in Laos. DID YOU KNOW? In a January 24 press conference Kissinger announced, "The return of American personnel and the accounting of missing in action is unconditional and will take place within the same time frame of the American withdrawal...American prisoners held in Laos and North Vietnam will be released to us in Hanoi". Senior communist representatives in Vientiane Soth Petrasy reacted to Kissinger's statement, "If they were captured in Laos, they will be returned in Laos". There had been NO discussions with the Pathet Lao, and there was NO AGREEMENT for return of prisoners "held in Laos". NO American was released who had been held in Laos. NO American was released in Laos. Hundreds of reports taken during NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 5 11 November 1988 debriefing sessions with Americans who ESCAPED from camps in Laos provide overwhelming evidence that many, many more Americans were left there. DID YOU KNOW? Throughout the years numerous Pathet Lao officials had often spoken publicly about American prisoners in their control. They said that discussions regarding the release of those men could commence only after the hostilities in Laos were over, and most importantly the bombing was over. The U.S. continued bombing in Laos until August of 1973, 6 MONTHS AFTER Operation Homecoming, 6 months AFTER the U.S. government announced, "There is no reason to believe any American missing remain alive in Southeast Asia". DID YOU KNOW? On March 22, Nixon temporarily halted U.S. troop withdrawals. General John A. Wickham, Jr., Deputy Chief U.S. delegate to the Four Party Joint Military Commission, sent a letter to the North Vietnamese revising the time schedule for the withdrawal of remaining U.S. troops in Vietnam. The pullout was to be resumed only if the United States received a "complete list of all United States prisoners of war, including those held by the Pathet Lao, as well as the date, time and place of release". (A list of 9 American prisoners being held in Laos was already delivered to Washington. What prisoners was Gen. Wickham referring to?) The North Vietnamese responded that to hold them responsible for the return of prisoners detained in Laos illogical and constituted a violation of the Paris Peace Agreement, which placed on them no such responsibility. They showed for the first time that the "non-binding verbal agreement" was just that! On March 29, Pathet Lao officials traveled to Hanoi to participate in the release ceremony for the nine American and one Canadian prisoner captured in Laos by the Vietnamese, and both the Lao and the Vietnamese claimed these 10 were the "Laos prisoners". These 10 saw their "captors" for the first time that day! (These 10 were never "detained in Laos") The Vietnamese and the Lao were undoubtedly surprised when the OBVIOUS LIE was accepted by the U.S. But, regarding the large number of American prisoners captured and detained in Laos, Nixon was in a very precarious political position. One of the 22 Articles of Impeachment later considered, as the Watergate cover- up began to unravel, was for Nixon's illegal use of U.S. military personnel in Laos. Because of Nixon's vulnerability regarding his conduct of the war in Laos, it was too dangerous to take a strong public stand demanding the release of such a large number of prisoners in Laos, so that OBVIOUS LIE was not challenged and the American troop withdrawals resumed later that same day. The failure to challenge that lie, for political reasons, drove the NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 6 11 November 1988 first nail into the coffins of HUNDREDS of remaining American prisoners. DID YOU KNOW? On April 5, the Senate voted down the consideration of aid - the Second nail was driven. Then on APril 7, the Vietnamese announced, for the first time, that there had been no detention facilities for holding prisoners in Laos, and that they had been executed within several hours of capture. (this comes as a shock to me! and I'm sure to the dozens of other U.S. soldiers who escaped from "detention" facilities well within Laos!) The Vietnamese KNEW we KNEW it was not true, and made the statement to warn us we might never get our men if we did not pay. In a last-ditch effort, Robert McFarlane was dispatched to Hanoi to offer $100 million in emergency medical aid for the North Vietnamese city of Vinh, in return for the remaining American prisoners. "We were promised $4 billion, and we want it!" Nail number 3. On April 11, Dr. Roger Shields received a phone call from his boss, Assistant Secretary of Defense William Clements who said, "All the prisoners are dead". Nail number 4. On April 12, Dr. Shields announced, "There is no reason to believe there are Americans remaining alive in Southeast Asia". Nail number 5. Almost immediately following Operation Homecoming, U.S. participants in the deliberations of the Joint Economic Commission (the North Vietnamese/U.S. team studying the nature and amount of U.S. post-war reconstruction aid) began for the first time to demand progress on unrelated issues as a condition to completing the aid package. Nixon and Kissinger apparently hoped that these discussions would convince the North Vietnamese that the U.S. really intended to pay the aid and that the remaining prisoners would be released before they discovered that the aid would NEVER be paid. On April 15, the talks broke down. The coffin was sealed. The remaining prisoners were not released, but were held, and are held to this day to force the payment of the promised aid. When Nixon and Kissinger failed in their attempt to deceive the North Vietnamese, the deception was turned on the American people: "There is no reason to believe any American missing remain alive in Southeast Asia". In the end, Nixon and Kissinger won the battle they thought they had to win, but they paid an awful price for their victory: they abandoned their South Vietnamese allies to a certain defeat; they abandoned their anti-communist allies in Laos; they left their Cambodian allies to suffer the wrath of a genocidal Khmer Rouge maniac; they abandoned hundreds of American servicemen and civilians in Laos and Vietnam, betrayed by the leaders they had gone to Indochina to serve. But, "PEACE WITH HONOR" was theirs! NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 7 11 November 1988 VIETNAM WAR VETERANS IN PRISON BLAME CRIMES ON UNRESOLVED STRESS By Sharon Cohen Associated Press Writer 10 November 88 JACKSON, Mich. -- Phil Reibel went to Vietnam, a gentle man in a time of war. He returned, a violent man in a time of peace. So began his odyssey from platoon to prison. Today, the Marine veteran passes his days behind gates, his nights behind bars, doing time for brutally assaulting his son. He's not sure Vietnam put him there, but he has no doubts the war turned him inside out. "Before I went to Vietnam, I never had any violent streaks," said the bearded, 41-year-old Reibel. "When I cam back, I had nothing but violent streaks. ... The day I came home and the day before I left, I was a completely different person." Reibel is among thousands of Vietnam veterans in prisons nationwide who wonder whether their time as warriors in jungles a half-world away helped turn them into criminals on the streets at home. Five years ago and long after he came home, Reibel beat his teen-age son and pushed him over a stool. The boy's head hit the TV, temporarily paralyzing him. Reibol's sentence: 6 years, 8 months to 10 years. "I had no control over myself at that time," Reibel said. "As far as guilt, shame, I'll have to suffer that forever. ... I'm doing a life sentence." Like other Vietnam veterans, Reibel's war story began in a distant land. A generation later, it's still being written - back home, in a prison cell. "They're one of the forgotten legacies of the war," said Wayne Smith, membership services director of Vietnam Veterans of America and a former Army medic who served time for manslaughter. "There are those who are missing in action, and there are those who are missing in America ... the incarcerated veteran," he said. "The problem is very real. It's one we don't look at daily because of the height of the walls. Nevertheless, they're there. There's a key turned every day." These men have become prisoners of war of another sort. At the end of 1987, state prisons held 20,876 veterans who served in Southeast Asia in the Vietnam era, Justice Department records show. Another survey, taken in 1979, found 12,957 inmates in such prisons. Federal prison officials have no such breakdown. Thousands more Vietnam vets have previously served time or are on probation or parole, experts say. And a recent survey found 470,000 vets, one in seven, suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder, a psychological condition sometimes marked by flashbacks and nightmares that has been cited in criminal defenses. That condition was linked to two vets who have been executed. One argued that flashbacks drove him to kill a rookie policeman. The second man, who killed two people in a robbery, dug foxholes beneath his house and locked himself in his room after he returned from the war. Some experts suspect a higher proportion of Vietnam veterans NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 8 11 November 1988 ended up in prison than those who served in other wars, although no statistics support that. The reasons they give for the perceived higher incidence of imprisonment: the nature of the war -- no clear enemy lines -- and lack of decompression time. "Vietnam combat veterans were guerilla fighters and (moved) from the theater of war to their home porch often in less than 36 hours," said John Wilson, a Cleveland State University psychology professor and expert on post-traumatic stress. "It's almost like a deep sea diver coming up too quickly and getting the bends," explained Charles Figley, Purdue University professor of family therapy and psychology. Many still thought like warriors. "A lot of the men were walking around with jungle-trained survival instincts," Wilson said. "They were prepared to react to stress incidents as they did in Vietnam." One Michigan inmate, Jim Armstrong, explains: "You go over there, and you kill as many of them as you can before they kill you. The whole time in your training ... it was ... kill, kill, kill. What you don't kill, burn down. So when you come home, it's, `No, man, don't kill no more. Go back and build Chevrolets.' How can you do that?" Some experts also point out that many young Vietnam soldiers were poor, with few job skills. When they returned, "they had two strikes against them," said Michael Boivin, psychology professor at Spring Arbor College in Michigan. "A lot of these guys were at risk anyway," he said. "I don't blame Vietnam" for the criminal acts committed. But for some, "Vietnam pushed them over the edge." At times, vets say, the war even worked against them in court -- prosecutors portrayed them as Rambos, trained killers, adept with guns. The road from combat soldier to convict is a concern to scholars and veterans groups, who are conducting studies, testifying before lawmakers about effects of post-war stress and working to establish halfway houses and a clearinghouse to track these so-called "forgotten warriors." Vets-turned-inmates do support each other. Of 373 Vietnam Veterans of America chapters, 24 are in prisons, with 3,000 members. More are being organized. A Missouri chapter unites inmates with vets who work at the prison, including the warden, who served five tours in Vietnam. Here in Jackson, two prisons have nearly 200 members in three chapters. They are grouped by security level. In one group, inmates at the State Prison of Southern Michigan, the world's largest walled prison, speak of a society they say has victimized them twice -- first branding them murderers and now stigmatizing them as convicts. "The media and the American people ... (felt) a Vietnam veteran ... was either a baby killer or a walking time bomb," said inmate Armstrong. "When he lost control once ... they said, `OK, let's put this time bomb in prison where if he explodes, all he can hurt is other criminals.' NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 9 11 November 1988 "There's no thought about, well, did the war have anything to do with it? Should we offer this guy an alternative? Should we put him in therapy? Should we try to readjust him to society that he didn't get readjusted to from coming from Vietnam?' No, let's just lock him up. "We ain't no criminals," added Armstrong, who shot his wife in the jaw during a fight. "We just made a mistake. ... We as a group try to figure out how did we end up doing what we did, how did it happen? Everybody else in (prison) is trying to figure out ... `How did I get caught?'" In some ways, imprisoned Vietnam vets do differ from other inmates -- they tend to be more cooperative, more reclusive, less involved with gangs, said Wilson, the Cleveland State professor. While some are hardened convicts, he said, others have no criminal mentality, but their post-war lives have unraveled. Wilson said there's a direct link between post-traumatic stress and drunken driving, disorderly conduct, assault and weapons charges. Reibel, who was found guilty but mentally ill of child torture, said his anger simmered for years. Records show he had a history of assaulting his son before his arrest. "I thought about (Vietnam) everyday for 10 years and was afraid to say anything," he said. Some also say the public's intense anti-war feelings made their return all the more traumatic. "everybody that came back from World War II was a war hero," Armstrong said. "When I come home, (I thought) `Man, I'm a war hero.' (But) you're one of the Four Horsemen. You're death riding on a horse." Most Vietnam vets readjusted well, but Armstrong and others got into bar fights, drank heavily, drove recklessly. Some called it their death wish. Others say Vietnam destroyed their priorities. "Things that were important before I left weren't important anymore -- friends, family, success," said George Fisher, who robbed a shoe store to support a drug habit he picked up in Vietnam. The notion of right and wrong blurred, too. "When you grow up and they teach you ... don't hit a girl... when you get over there ... what if this little 16-year-old kid happens to be a girl and firing that Mauser at you?" asked inmate Ken Everhart, convicted of criminal sexual conduct against his wife, from who he was separated. "People look and say, `You're ... sick, pathetic,'" said Everhart, who's been married five times. "I say, `You beat me down. You've got me down. I'm tired. I'm tired. I'm 41 ... years old. I've been fighting Vietnam for 21 years now. Vietnam destroyed my value system." ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page10 11 November 1988 DAV Publication Helps Vietnam Veterans And Others Understand CONTINUING READJUSTMENT PROBLEMS AMONG VIETNAM VETERANS by Jim Goodwin, Psy.D. The Etiology of Combat-Related Post-Traumatic Stress Disorders Published by DISABLED AMERICAN VETERANS National Headquarters P O Box 14301 Cincinnati, OH 45214 >> INTRODUCTION << Most Vietnam veterans have adjusted well to life back in the United States, following their wartime experiences. That's a tribute to these veterans who faced a difficult homecoming to say the least. However, a very large number of veterans haven't made it all the way home from the war in Southeast Asia. By conservative estimates, at least half a million Vietnam veterans still lead lives plagued by serious, war-related readjustment problems. Such problems crop up in a number of ways, varying from veteran to veteran. Flashbacks to combat... feelings of alienation or anger... depression, loneliness and an inability to get close to others... sometimes drug or alcohol problems... perhaps even suicidal feelings. The litany goes on. In its efforts to help these veterans, the 700,000-member Disabled American Veterans (DAV) funded the FORGOTTEN WARRIOR PROJECT research on Vietnam veterans by John P. Wilson, Ph.D. at Cleveland State University. That research resulted in formation of the DAV Vietnam Veterans Outreach Program to provide counseling to these veterans in 1978. With 70 outreach offices across the United States, this DAV program served as a model for the Veterans Administration (VA) Operation Outreach program for Vietnam era veterans, which was established approximately a year later. Clinically, the readjustment problems these veterans suffer were designated as Post Traumatic Stress Disorders in the American Psychiatric Association's DIAGNOSTIC & STATISTICAL MANUAL III (DSM III). Counseling psychologists working with Vietnam veterans in the DAV and VA outreach programs emphasize that these disorders are not mental illnesses. Rather, they are delayed reactions to the stress these veterans--particularly combat veterans--underwent during the war in Southeast Asia. The nature of post-traumatic stress disorders among Vietnam veterans is described in this paper by Jim Goodwin, Psy.D. Himself a Marine Corps veteran of Vietnam combat, Dr. Goodwin worked as a volunteer counselor in the DAV Vietnam Veterans Outreach Program while doing graduate work at the University of Denver's School of Professional Psychology. Following these studies, Dr. Goodwin rejoined the Armed Forces and is now a captain on active duty with the U.S. Army. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 11 11 November 1988 The material presented here is a condensation of Dr. Goodwin's chapter in POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDERS OF THE VIETNAM VETERAN: OBSERVATIONS AND RECOMMENDATIONS FOR THE PSYCHOLOGICAL TREATMENT OF THE VETERAN AND HIS FAMILY. Edited by Tom Williams, Psy.D., this book was published by the nonprofit Disabled American Veterans as a guide to counseling professionals who are working with or interested in the problems of Vietnam veterans. Due to limited quantities,the complete book has been made available chiefly to psychiatrists, psychologists and other mental health counseling professionals. It is hoped that Dr. Goodwin's paper will provide all of the information on post-traumatic stress disorders needed by veterans, their families, and the general public. A final note: Gerald R. Ford, when he was President of our country, asked the American public to put Vietnam behind them and forget it. I can think of no Presidential injunction that has been more effective. As a Vietnam War veteran, myself, I believe it's both healthful and necessary to put the bitterness and dissension of the war years behind us. But to forget the Vietnam War, its troubled veterans, and their families would be unforgivable. Sherman E. Roodzant National Commander Disabled American Veterans >> RECOLLECTIONS << What price must the heart pay to live and love? Say you long hot days ahead without a kind word--days when fear will tear your insides apart - but one must go for duty calls... so very far away. My heart is numb, my brain reels--yet no tears. Another friend is laid to rest. God rest his soul this brave man. Keep him safe for we'll meet again--at another time, in another place. Hot sun, endless hours grant me some respite from loneliness. Sharp rattle, orange streaks across the black sky--a sensation of torn steel, woven with hot flesh and blood beside me. God! God whatever God you be, speed my soul on its way but not in endless eternity. Thoughts of home come to me--don't let me go; please no--I'm afraid! A cold refreshing wind penetrates my bones--what a strange place this be. I hear familiar voices that have long passed from existence--I see faces--faces of friends long since dead. I realize now what has happened and where I am, yet I am happy with those whose names are carved in stone amidst the grass of a place called Arlington. Please don't weep for me for I no longer worry about what tomorrow brings... for me it brings a much needed rest... a rest forever. by: George L. Skypeck Captain, U.S.A. 12/71 NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 12 11 November 1988 THE ETIOLOGY OF COMBAT-RELATED POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS-DISORDERS BY: Jim Goodwin, Psy.D. "My marriage is falling apart. We just don't talk any more. Hell, I guess we've never really talked about anything, ever. I spend most of my time at home alone in the basement. She's upstairs and I'm downstairs. Sure we'll talk about the groceries and who will get gas for the car, but that's about it. She's tried to tell me she cares for me, but I get real uncomfortable talking about things like that, and I get up and leave. Sometimes I get real angry over the smallest thing. I used to hit her when this would happen, but lately I just punch out a hole in the wall, or leave and go for a long drive. Sometimes I spend more time on the road just driving aimlessly than I do at home. "I really don't have any friends and I'm pretty particular about who I want as a friend. The world is pretty much dog eat dog, and no one seems to care much for anyone else. As far as I'm concerned, I'm really not a part of this messed up society. What I'd really like to do is have a home in the mountains, somewhere far away from everyone. Sometimes I get so angry with the way things are being run. I think about placing a few blocks of C-4 (military explosive) under some of the sons-of-bitches. A couple of times a year, I get into fights at bars. I usually pick the biggest guy. I don't know why. I usually get creamed. There are times when I drive real crazily, screaming and yelling at other drivers. "I usually feel depressed. I've felt this way for years. There have been times I've been so depressed that I won't even leave the basement. I'll usually start drinking pretty heavily around these times. I've also thought about committing suicide when I've been depressed. I've got an old .38 that I snuck back from Nam. A couple of times I've sat with it loaded, once I even had the barrel in my mouth and the hammer pulled back. I couldn't do it. I see Smitty back in Nam with his brains smeared all over the bunker. Hell, I fought too hard then to make it back to the World (U.S.): I can't waste it now. How come I survived and he didn't? There has to be some reason. "Sometimes, my head starts to replay some of my experiences in Nam. Regardless of what I'd like to think about, it comes creeping in. It's so hard to push back out again. It's old friends, their faces, the ambush, the screams, their faces (tears)... You know, every time I hear a chopper (helicopter) or see a clear unobstructed green treeline, a chill goes down my back; I remember. When I go hiking now, I avoid green areas. I usually stay above timber line. When I walk down the street, I get real uncomfortable with people behind me that I can't see. When I sit, I always try to find a chair with something big and solid directly behind me. I feel most comfortable in the corner of a room, with walls on both sides of me. Loud noises irritate me and sudden movement or noise will make me jump. "Night is hardest for me. I go to sleep long after my wife has NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 13 11 November 1988 gone to bed. It seems like hours before I finally drop off. I think of so many of my Nam experiences at night. Sometimes my wife awakens me with a wild look in her eye. I'm all sweaty and tense. Sometimes I grab for her neck before I realize where I am. Sometimes I remember the dream; sometimes it's Nam, other times it's just people after me, and I can't run anymore. "I don't know, this has been going on for so long; it seems to be getting gradually worse. My wife is talking about leaving. I guess it's no big deal. But I'm lonely. I really don't have anyone else. Why am I the only one like this? What the hell is wrong with me?" The above description of one Vietnam veteran's problematic lifestyle, more than ten years after the war in Southeast Asia, is unfortunately not an unusual phenomenon. >> THE EVOLUTION OF POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER << It was not until World War I that specific clinical syndromes came to be associated with combat duty. In prior wars, it was assumed that such casualties were merely manifestations of poor discipline and cowardice. However, with the protracted artillery barrages commonplace during "The Great War," the concept evolved that the high air pressure of the exploding shells caused actual physiological damage, precipitating the numerous symptoms that were subsequently labeled "shell shock." By the end of the war, further evolution accounted for the syndrome being labeled a "war neurosis" (Glass, 1969). During the early years of World War II, psychiatric casualties had increased some 300 percent when compared with World War I, even though the preinduction psychiatric rejection rate was three to four times higher than World War I (Figley, 1978a). At one point in the war, the number of men being discharged from the service for psychiatric reasons exceeded the total number of men being newly drafted (Tiffany and Allerton, 1967). During the Korean War, the approach to combat stress became even more pragmatic. Due to the work of Albert Glass (1945), individual breakdowns in combat effectiveness were dealt with in a very situational manner. Clinicians provided immediate onsite treatment to affected individuals, always with the expectation that the combatant would return to duty as soon as possible. The results were gratifying. During World War II, 23 percent of the evacuations were for psychiatric reasons. But in Korea, psychiatric evacuations dropped to only six percent (Bourne, 1970). It finally became clear that the situational stresses of the combatant were the primary factors leading to psychological casualty. Surprisingly, with American involvement in the Vietnam War, psychological battlefield casualties evolved in a new direction. What was expected from past war experiences -- and what was prepared for -- did not materialize. Battlefield psychological breakdown was at an all-time low, 12 per one thousand (Bourne, NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 14 11 November 1988 1970). It was decided that use of preventative measured learned in Korea and some added situational manipulation which will be discussed later had solved the age-old problem of psychological breakdown in combat. As the war continued for a number of years, some interesting additional trends were noted. Although the behavior of some combatants in Vietnam undermined fighting efficiency, the symptoms presented rare but very well documented phenomenon of World War II began to be reobserved. After the end of World War II, some men suffering from acute combat reaction, as well as some of their peers with no such symptoms at war's end, began to complain of common symptoms. These included intense anxiety, battle dreams, depression, explosive aggressive behavior and problems with interpersonal relationships, to name a few. These were found in a five-year follow-up (Futterman and Pumpian-Mindlin, 1951) and in a 20-year follow-up (Archibald and Tuddenham, 1965). A similar trend was once more observed in Vietnam veterans as the war wore on. Both those who experienced acute combat reaction and many who did not began to complain of the above symptoms long after their combatant role had ceased. What was so unusual was the large numbers of veterans being affected after Vietnam. The pattern of neuropsychiatric disorder for combatants of World War II and Korea was quite different than for Vietnam. For both World War II and the Korean War, the incidence of neuropsychiatric disorder among combatants increased as the intensity of the wars increased. As these wars wore down, there was a corresponding decrease in these disorders until the incidence closely resembled the particular prewar periods. The prolonged or delayed symptoms noticed during the postwar periods were noted to be somewhat obscure and few in numbers; therefore, no great significance was attached to them. However, the Vietnam experience proved different. As the war in Vietnam progressed in intensity, there was no corresponding increase in neuropsychiatric casualties among combatants. It was not until the early 1970s, when the war was winding down, that neuropsychiatric disorders began to increase. With the end of direct American troop involvement in Vietnam in 1973, the number of veterans presenting neuropsychiatric disorders began to increase tremendously (President's Commission on Mental Health 1978). ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 15 11 November 1988 During the same period in the 1970s, many other people were experiencing varying traumatic episodes other than combat. There were large numbers of plane crashes, natural disasters, fires, acts of terrorism on civilian populations and other catastrophic events. The picture presented to many mental health professionals working with victims of these events, helping them adjust after traumatic experiences, was quite similar to the phenomenon of the troubled Vietnam veteran. The symptoms were almost identical. Finally, after much research (Figley, 1978a) by various veterans' task forces and recommendations by those involved in treatment of civilian post-trauma clients, the DSM III (1980) was published with a new category: post-traumatic stress disorder, acute, chronic and/or delayed. >> HOW THE VIETNAM EXPERIENCE DIFFERED FROM PREVIOUS WARS AND SUBSEQUENTLY PREDISPOSED THE COMBATANT TO THE POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER: DELAYED AND/OR CHRONIC TYPE << When direct American troop involvement in Vietnam became a reality, military planners looked to previous war experiences to help alleviate the problem of psychological disorder in combat. By then it was an understood fact that those combatants with the most combat exposure suffered the highest incidence of breakdown. In Korea this knowledge resulted in use, to some extent, of a "point system." After accumulating so many points, an individual was rotated home, regardless of the progress of the war. This was further refined in Vietnam, the outcome being the DEROS (date of expected return from overseas) system. Every individual serving in Vietnam, except general officers, knew before leaving the United States when he or she was scheduled to return. The tour lasted 12 months for everyone except the Marines who, known for their one-upmanship, did a 13-month tour. DEROS promised the combatant a way out of the war other than as a physical or psychological casualty (Kormos, 1978). The advantages were clear: there would not be an endless period of protracted combat with the prospect of becoming a psycho- logical casualty as the only hope for return to the United States without wounds. Rather, if a combatant could just hold together for the 12 or 13 months, he would be rotated to the United States; and, once home, he would leave the war far behind. The disadvantages to DEROS were not as clear, and some time elapsed before they were noticed. DEROS was a very personal thing; each individual was rotated on his own with his own specific date. This meant that tours in Vietnam were solitary, individual episodes. It was rare, after the first few years of the war, that whole units were sent to the war zone simultaneously. Bourne said it best: "The war becomes a highly individualized and encapsulated event for each man. His war begins the day he arrives in the country, and ends the day he leaves" (p. 12, 1970). Bourne further states, "He feels no continuity with those who precede or follow him: He even feels apart from those who are with him but rotating on a different schedule" (p. 42, 1970). Because of this very individual aspect of the war, unit morale, NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 16 11 November 1988 unit cohesion and unit identification suffered tremendously (Kormos, 1978). Many studies from past wars (Grinker and Spiegel, 1945) point to the concept of how unit integrity acts as a buffer for the individual against the overwhelming stresses of combat. Many of the veterans of World War II spent weeks or months with their units returning on ships from all over the world. During the long trip home, these men had the closeness and emotional support of one another to rework the especially traumatic episodes they had experienced together. The epitaph for the Vietnam veteran, however, was a solitary plane ride home with complete strangers and a head full of grief, conflict, confusion and joy. For every Vietnam combatant, the DEROS date became a fantasy that on a specific day all problems would cease as he flew swiftly back to the United States. The combatants believed that neither they as individuals nor the United States as a society had changed in their absence. Hundreds of thousands of men lived this fantasy from day to day. The universal popularity of short-timer calendars is evidence of this. A short-timer was a GI who was finishing his tour overseas. The calendars in- tricately marked off the days remaining of his overseas tour in all manner of designs with 365 spaces to fill in to complete the final design and mark that final day. The GIs overtly displayed these calendars to one another. Those with the shortest time left in the country were praised by others and would lead their peers on a fantasy excursion of how wonderful and carefree life would be as soon as they returned home. For many, this became an almost daily ritual. For those who may have been struggling with a psychological breakdown due to the stresses of combat, the DEROS fantasy served as a major prophylactic to actual overt symptoms of acute combat reaction. For these veterans, it was a hard-fought struggle to hold on until their time came due. The vast majority of veterans did hold on as evidenced by the low neuropsychiatric casualty rates during the war (The President's Commission on Mental Health, 1978). Rates of acute combat reaction or acute post-traumatic stress disorder were significantly lowered relative to the two previous wars. As a result, many combatants, who in previous wars might have become psychological statistics, held on somewhat tenuously until the end of their tours in Vietnam. The struggle for most was an uphill battle. Those motivators that keep the combatant fighting -- unit ESPIRIT DE CORPS, small group solidarity and an ideological belief that this was the good fight (Moskos, 1975) -- were not present in Vietnam. Unit ESPIRIT was effectively slashed by the DEROS system. Complete strangers, often GIs who were strangers even to a specific unit's specialty, were transferred into units whenever in- dividual rotations were completed. Veterans who had finally reached a level of proficiency had also reached their DEROS date and were rotated. Green troops or "fucking new guys" with almost no experience in combat were thrown into their places. These FNGs were essentially avoided by the unit, at least until after a few months of experience; "short timers" did not want NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 17 11 November 1988 to get themselves killed by relying on inexperienced replacements. Needless to say, the unit culture or ESPIRIT was often lost in the lack of communication with the endless leavings and arrivals. There were other unique aspects of group dynamics in Vietnam. Seasoned troops would stick together, often forming very close small groups for short periods, a normal combat experience noted in previous wars (Grinker and Spiegel, 1945). Some groups formed along racial lines due to lack of unit cohesion within combat outfits. As a seasoned veteran got down to his last two months in Vietnam, he was struck by a strange malady known as the "short timer's syndrome." He would be withdrawn from the field and, if logistically possible, would be settled into a comparatively safe setting for the rest of his tour. His buddies would be left behind in the field without his skills, and he would be left with mixed feelings of joy and guilt. Interestingly, it was rare that a veteran ever wrote to his buddies still in Vietnam once he returned home (Howard, 1975). It has been an even rarer experience for two or more to get together following the war. This is a strong contrast to the endless reunions of World War II veterans. Feelings of guilt about leaving one's buddies to whatever unknown fate in Vietnam apparently proved so strong that many veterans were often too frightened to attempt to find out what happened to those left behind. Another factor unique to the Vietnam War was that the ideological basis for the war was very difficult to grasp. In World War II, the United States was very clearly threatened by a uniformed and easily recognizable foe. In Vietnam, it was quite the opposite. It appeared that the whole country was hostile to American forces. The enemy was rarely uniformed, and American troops were often forced to kill women and children combatants. There were no real lines of demarcation, and just about any area was subject to attack. Most American forces had been trained to fight in conventional warfare, in which other human beings are confronted and a block of land is either acquired or lost in the fray. However, in Vietnam, surprise firing devices such as booby traps accounted for a large number of casualties with the human foe rarely sighted. A block of land might be secured but not held. A unit would pull out to another conflict in the vicinity; and, if it wished to return to the same block of land, it would once again have to fight to take that land. It was an endless war with rarely seen foes and no ground gains, just a constant flow of troops in and out of the country. The only observable outcome was an interminable production of maimed, crippled bodies and countless corpses. Some were so disfigured it was hard to tell if they were Vietnamese or American, but they were all dead. The rage that such conditions generated was widespread among American troops. It manifested itself in violence and mistrust toward the Vietnamese (DeFazio, 1978), toward the authorities, and toward the society that sent these men to Vietnam and then would not support them. Rather than a war with a just ideological basis, Vietnam became a private war of survival for every American individual involved. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 18 11 November 1988 What was especially problematic was that this was America's first teenage war (Williams, 1979). The age of the average combatant was close to 20 (Wilson, 1979). According to Wilson (1978), this period for most adolescents involves a psychosocial moratorium (Erickson, 1968), during which the individual takes some time to establish a more stable and enduring personality structure and sense of self. Unfortunately for the adolescents who fought the war, the role of combatant versus survivor, as well as the many ambiguous and conflicting values associated with these roles, let to a clear disruption of this moratorium and to the many subsequent problems that followed for the young veterans. Many men, who had either used drugs to deal with the overwhelming stresses of combat or developed other behavioral symptoms of similar stress-related etiology, were not recognized as struggling with acute combat reaction or post-traumatic stress disorder, acute subtype. Rather, their immediate behavior had proven to be problematic to the military, and they were offered an immediate resolution in the form of admin- istrative discharges, often with diagnoses of character disorders (Kormos, 1978). The administrative discharge proved to be another method to temporarily repress any further overt symptoms. It provided yet another means of ending the stress without becoming an actual physical or psychological casualty. It, therefore, served to lower the actual incidence of psychological breakdown, as did the DEROS. Eventually, this widely used practice came to be questioned, and it was recognized that it had been used as a convenient way to eliminate many individuals who had major psychological problems dating from their combat service (Kormos, 1978). When the veteran finally returned home, his fantasy about his DEROS date was replaced by a rather harsh reality. As pre- viously stated, World War II vets took weeks, sometimes months, to return home with their buddies. Vietnam vets returned home alone. Many made the transition from rice paddy to Southern California in less than 36 hours. The civilian population of the World War II era had been treated to movies about the struggles of readjustment for veterans (i.e. The Man In The Grey Flannel Suit, The Best Years of Our Lives, Pride of The Marines) to prepare them to help the veteran (DeFazio, 1978). The civilian population of the Vietnam era was treated to the horrors of the war on the six o'clock news. They were tired and numb to the whole experience. Some were even fighting mad, and many veterans came home to witness this fact. Some World War II veterans came home to victory parades. Vietnam veterans returned in defeat and witnessed antiwar marches and protests. For World War II veterans, resort hotels were taken over and made into redistribution stations to which veterans could bring their wives and devote two weeks to the initial homecoming (Boros, 1973). For Vietnam veterans, there were screaming anti- war crowds and locked military bases where they were processed back into civilian life in two or three days. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 19 11 November 1988 Those veterans who were struggling to make it back home finally did. However, they had drastically changed, and their world would never seem the same. Their fantasies were just that: fantasy. What they had experienced in Vietnam and on their return to their homes in the United States would leave an indelible mark that many may never erase. ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 20 11 November 1988 >> THE CATALYSTS OF POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDERS FOR VIETNAM COMBAT VETERANS << More than 8.5 million individuals served in the U.S. Armed Forces during the Vietnam era, 1964-1973. Approximately 2.8 million served in Southeast Asia. Of the latter number, almost one million saw active combat or were exposed to hostile, life- threatening situations (President's Commission on Mental Health, 1978). It is this writer's opinion that the vast majority of Vietnam era veterans have had a much more problematic re- adjustment to civilian life than did their World War II and Korean War counterparts. This was due to the issues already discussed in this chapter, as well as to the state of the economy and the inadequacy of the GI Bill in the early 1970s. In addition, the combat veterans of Vietnam, many of whom im- mediately tried to become assimilated back into the peacetime culture, discovered that their outlook and feelings about their relationships and future life experiences had changed immensely. According to the fantasy, all was to be well again when they returned from Vietnam. The reality for many was quite different. A number of studies point out that those veterans subjected to more extensive combat show more problematic symptoms during the period of readjustment (Wilson, 1978; Strayer & Ellenhorn, 1975; Kormos, 1978; Shatan, 1978; Figley, 1978b). The usual pattern has been that of a combat veteran in Vietnam who held on until his DEROS date. He was largely asymptomatic at the point of his rotation back to the U.S. for the reasons previously discussed; on his return home, the joy of surviving continued to suppress any problematic symptoms. However, after a year or more, the veteran would begin to notice some changes in his outlook (Shatan, 1978). But, because there was a time limit of one year after which the Veterans Administration would not recognize neuro psychiatric problems as service-connected, the veteran was unable to get service-connected disability compensation. Treat- ment from the VA was very difficult to obtain. The veteran began to feel depressed, mistrustful, cynical and restless. He experienced problems with sleep and with his temper. Strangely, he became somewhat obsessed with his combat experiences in Viet- nam. He would also begin to question why he survived when others did not. For approximately 500,000 veterans (Wilson, 1978) of the combat in Southeast Asia, this problematic outlook has become a chronic lifestyle affecting not only the veterans but countless millions of persons who are in contact with these veterans. The symptoms described below are experienced by all Vietnam combat veterans to varying degrees. However, for some with the most extensive combat histories and other variables which have yet to be enum- erated, Vietnam-related problems have persisted in disrupting all areas of life experience. According to Wilson (1978), the number of veterans experiencing these symptoms will climb until 1985, based on his belief of Erickson's psychosocial develop- mental stages and how far along in these stages most combat veterans will be by 1985. Furthermore, without any inter- vention, what was once a reaction to a traumatic episode may for many become an almost unchangeable personality characteristic. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 21 11 November 1988 >> DEPRESSION << The vast majority of the Vietnam combat veterans I have inter- viewed are depressed. Many have been continually depressed since their experiences in Vietnam. They have the classic symptoms (DSM III, 1980) of sleep disturbance, psychomotor retardation, feelings of worthlessness, difficulty in concen- trating, etc. Many of these veterans have weapons in their possession, and they are no strangers to death. In treatment, it is especially important to find out if the veteran keeps a weapon in close proximity, because the possibility of suicide is always present. When recalling various combat episodes during an interview, the veteran with a post-traumatic stress disorder almost invariably cries. He usually has had one or more episodes in which one of his buddies was killed. When asked how he handled these death when in Vietnam, he will often answer, "in the shortest amount of time possible" (Howard, 1975). Due to circumstances of war, extended grieving on the battlefield is very unproductive and could become a liability. Hence, grief was handled as quickly as possible, allowing little or no time for the grieving process. Many men reported feeling numb when this happened. When asked how they are now dealing with the deaths of their buddies in Vietnam, they invariable answer that they are not. They feel depressed; "How can I tell my wife, she'd never un- derstand?" they ask. "How can anyone who hasn't been there understand?" (Howard, 1975). Accompanying the depression is a very well developed sense of helplessness about one's condition. Vietnam-style combat held no final resolution of conflict for anyone. Regardless of how one might respond,t he overall outcome seemed to be just an endless production of casualties with no perceivable goals attained. Regardless of how well one worked, sweated, bled and even died, the outcome was the same. Our GIs gained no ground; they were constantly rocketed or mortared. They found little support from their "friends and neighbors" back home, the people in whose name so many were drafted into military service. They felt helpless. They returned to the United States, trying to put together some positive resolution of this episode in their lives, but the atmosphere at home was hopeless. They were still helpless. Why even bother anymore? Many veterans report becoming extremely isolated when they are especially depressed. Substance abuse is often exaggerated during depressive periods. Self medication was an easily learned coping response in Vietnam; alcohol appears to be the drug of choice. >> ISOLATION << Combat veterans have few friends. Many veterans who witnessed traumatic experiences complain of feeling like old men in young men's bodies. They feel isolated and distant from their peers. The veterans feel that most of their non-veteran peers would rather not hear what the combat experience was like; therefore, they feel rejected. Much of what many of these veterans had NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 22 11 November 1988 done during the war would seem like horrible crimes to their civilian peers. But, in the reality faced by Vietnam combat- ants, such actions were frequently the only means of survival. Many veterans find it difficult to forget the lack of positive support they received from the American public during the war. This was especially brought home to them on the return from the combat zone to the United States. Many were met by screaming crowds and the media calling them "depraved fiends" and "psycho- pathic killers" (DeFazio, 1978). Many personally confronted hostility from friends and family, as well as strangers. After their return home, some veterans found that the only defense was to search for a safe place. These veterans found themselves crisscrossing the continent, always searching for that place where they might feel accepted. Many veterans cling to the hope that they can move away from their problems. It is not unusual to interview a veteran who, either alone or with his family, has effectively isolated himself from others by repeatedly moving from one geographical location to another. The stress on his family is immense. The fantasy of living the life of a hermit plays a central role in many veterans' daydreams. Many admit to extended periods of isolation in the mountains, on the road, or just behind a closed door in the city. Some veterans have actually taken a weapon and attempted to live off the land. It is not rare to find a combat veteran who has not had a social contact with a woman for years -- other than with a prostitute, which is an accepted mil- itary procedure in the combat setting. If the veteran does marry, his wife will often complain about the isolation he im- poses on the marital situation. The veteran will often stay in the house and avoid any interactions with others. He also re- sents any interactions that his spouse may initiate. Many times, the wife is the source of financial stability. >> RAGE << The veterans' rage is frightening to them and to others around them. For no apparent reason, many will strike out at whomever is near. Frequently, this includes their wives and children. Some of these veterans can be quite violent. This behavior generally frightens the veterans, apparently leading many to question their sanity; they are horrified at their behavior. However, regardless of their afterthoughts, the rage reactions occur with frightening frequency. Often veterans will recount episodes in which they became inebriated and had fantasies that they were surrounded or confronted by enemy Vietnamese. This can prove to be an especially frightening situation when others confront the veteran forcibly. For many combat veterans, it is once again a life-and-death struggle, a fight for survival. Some veterans have been able to sublimate their rage, breaking inanimate ob- jects or putting fists through walls. Many of them display bruises and cuts on their hands. Often, when these veterans feel the rage emerging, they will immediately leave the scene before somebody or something gets hurt; subsequently, they drive about aimlessly. Quite often, their behavior behind the NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 23 11 November 1988 wheel reflects their mood. A number of veterans have described to me the verbal catharsis they've achieved in explosions of ex- pletives directed at any other drivers who may wrong them. There are many reasons for the rage. Military training equated rage with masculine identity in the performance of military duty (Eisenhart, 1975). Whether one was in combat or not, the mili- tary experience stirred up more resentment and rage than most had ever felt (Egendorf, 1975). Finally, when combat in Vietnam was experienced, the combatants were often left with wild, vio- lent impulses and no one upon whom to level them. The nature of guerrilla warfare -- with its use of such tactics as booby trap land mines and surprise ambushes with the enemy's quick retreat -- left the combatants feeling like time bombs; the veterans wanted to fight back, but their antagonists had long since disappeared. Often they unleashed their rage at indiscriminate targets for want of more suitable targets (Shatan, 1978). On return from Vietnam, the rage that had been tapped in combat was displaced against those in authority. It was directed against those the veterans felt were responsible for getting them involved in the war in the first place -- and against those who would not support the veterans while they were in Vietnam or when they returned home (Howard, 1975). Fantasies of retal- iation against political leaders, the military services, the Veterans Administration and antiwar protesters were present in the minds of many of these Vietnam combat veterans. These fantasies are still alive and generalized to many in the present era. Along with the rage at authority figures from the Vietnam era, these veterans today often feel a generalized mistrust of anyone in authority and the "system" in the present era. Many combat veterans with stress disorders have a long history of constantly changing their jobs. It is not unusual to interview a veteran who has had 30 to 40 jobs during the past 10 years. One veteran I interview had nearly 80 jobs in a 10-year span. The rationale quite often given by the veterans is that they became bored or the work was beneath them. However, after I made some extended searched into their work backgrounds, it became apparent that they felt deep mistrust for their employers and coworkers; they felt used and exploited; at times, such was the case. Many have had some uncomfortable confrontations with their employers and job peers, and many have been fired or have resigned on their own. >> AVOIDANCE OF FEELINGS: ALIENATION << The spouses of many of the veterans I have interviewed complain that the men are cold, uncaring individuals. Indeed the vet- erans themselves will recount episodes in which they did not feel anything when they witnessed the death of a buddy in combat or the more recent death of a close family relative. They are often somewhat troubled by these responses to tragedy; but, on the whole, they would rather deal with tragedy in their own de- tached way. What becomes especially problematic for these vet- erans, however, is an inability to experience the joys of life. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 24 11 November 1988 They often describe themselves as being emotionally dead (Shatan, 1973). The evolution of this emotional deadness began for Vietnam veterans when they first entered military boot camp (Shatan, 1973). There they learned that the Vietnamese were not to be labeled as people but as "gooks, dinks, slopes, zipperheads and slants." When the veterans finally arrived in the battle zone, it was much easier to kill a "gook" or "dink" than another human being. This dehumanization gradually generalized to the whole Vietnam experience. The American combatants themselves became "grunts," the Viet Cong became "Victor Charlie," and both groups were either "KIA" (killed in action) or "WIA" (wounded in action). Often, many "slopes" would get "zapped" (killed) by a "Cobra" (gunship), and the "grunts" would retreat by "Shithook" (evacuation by a Chinook helicopter); the jungle would be sown by "Puff the Magic Dragon" (a C-47 gunship with rapid-firing mini-gattling guns). The pseudonyms served to blunt the anguish and the horror of the reality of combat (DeFazio, 1978). In conjunction with this al- most surreal aspect of the fighting, psychic numbing furthered the coping and survival ability of the combatants by effectively knocking the aspect of feelings out of their cognitive abilities (Lifton, 1976). This defense mechanism of survivors of trau- matic experiences dulls an individual's awareness of the death and destruction about him. It is a dynamic survival mechanism, helping one to pass through a period of trauma without becoming caught up in its tendrils. Psychic numbing only becomes non- productive when the period of trauma is passed, and the indiv- idual is still numb to the affect around him. Many veterans find it extremely uncomfortable to feel love and compassion for others. To do this, they would have to thaw their numb reactions to the death and horror that surrounded them in Vietnam. Some veterans I've interview actually believe that if they once again allow themselves to feel, they may never stop crying or may completely lose control of themselves; what they mean by this is unknown to them. Therefore, many of these veterans go through life with an impaired capacity to love and care for others. they have no feeling of direction or purpose in life. They are not sure why they even exist. >> SURVIVAL GUILT << When others have died and some have not, the survivors often ask, "How is it that I survived when others more worthy than I did not?" (Lifton, 1973). Survival guilt is an especially guilt-invoking symptom. It is not based on anything hypo- thetical. Rather, it is based on the harshest of realities, the actual death of comrades and the struggle of the survivor to live. Often the survivor has had to compromise himself or the life of someone else in order to live. The guilt that such an act invokes or guilt over simply surviving may eventually end in self-destructive behavior by the survivor. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 25 11 November 1988 Many veterans, who have survived when comrades were lost in sur- prise ambushes, protracted battles or even normal battlefield attrition, exhibit self-destructive behavior. It is common for them to recount the combat death of someone they held in esteem; and, invariably, the questions comes up, "Why wasn't it me?" It is not unusual for these men to set themselves up for hopeless physical fights with insurmountable odds. "I don't know why, but I always pick the biggest guy," said the veteran in the tra- nscript at the beginning of this chapter. Shatan (1973) notes that some of these men become involved in repeated single-car accidents. This writer interviewed one surviving veteran, whose company suffered over 80% casualties in one ambush. The veteran had had three single-car accidents during the previous week, two the day before he came in for the interview. He was wondering if he were trying to kill himself. I have also found that those veterans who suffer the most painful survival guilt are primarily those who served as corpsmen or medics. These unfortunate veterans were trained for a few months to render first aid on the actual field of battle. The services they individually performed were heroic. With a bare amount of medical knowledge and large amounts of courage and determination, they saved countless lives. However, many of the men they tried to save died. Many of these casualties were beyond all medical help, yet many corpsmen and medics suffer extremely painful memories to this day, blaming their "incom- petence" for these deaths. Listening to these veterans describe their anguish and torment... seeing the heroin tracks up and down their arms or the bones that have been broken in numerous barroom fights... is, in itself, a very painful experience. Another less destructive trend that I have noticed exists among a small number of Vietnam combat veterans who have become com- pulsive blood donors. One very isolated and alienated indiv- idual I interviewed actually drives some 80 miles round-trip once every other month to make his donation. His military history reveals that he was one of 13 men out of a 60-man platoon who survived the battle of Hue. He was the only sur- vivor who was not wounded. this veteran and similar vets talk openly about their guilt, and they find some relief today in giving their blood that others may live. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 26 11 November 1988 >> ANXIETY REACTIONS << Many Vietnam veterans describe themselves as very vigilant human beings; their autonomic senses are tuned to anything out of the ordinary. A loud discharge will cause many of them to start. A few will actually take such evasive action as falling to their knees or to the ground. Many veterans become very uncomfortable when people walk closely behind them. One veteran described his discomfort when people drive directly behind him. He would pull off the road, letting others pass, when they got within a few car lengths of him. Some veterans are uncomfortable when standing out in the open. Many are uneasy when sitting with others behind them, often opting to sit up against something solid, such as a wall. The bigger the object is, the better. Many combat veterans are most comfortable when sitting in the corner in a room, where they can see everyone about them. Needless to say, all of these behaviors are learned survival techniques. If a veteran feels continuously threatened, it is difficult for him to give such behavior up. A large number of veterans possess weapons. This also is a learned survival technique. Many still sleep with weapons in easy reach. The uneasy feeling of being caught asleep is apparently very difficult to master once having left the combat zone. >> SLEEP DISTURBANCE AND NIGHTMARES << Few veterans struggling with post-traumatic stress disorders find the hours immediately before sleep very comfortable. In fact, many will stay awake as long as possible. They will often have a drink or smoke some cannabis to dull any uncomfortable cognition that may enter during this vulnerable time period. Many report that they have nothing to occupy their minds at the end of the day's activities, and their thoughts wander. For many of them, it is a trip back to the battle zone. Very often they will watch TV late into the mornings. Finally, with sleep, many veterans report having dreams about being shot at or being pursued and left with an empty weapon, unable to run anymore. Recurrent dreams of specific traumatic episodes are frequently reported. It is not unusual for a veteran to reexperience, night after night, the death of a close friend or a death that he caused as a combatant. Dreams of everyday, common experiences in Vietnam are also frequently reported. For many, just the fear that they might actually be back in Vietnam is very disquieting. Some veterans report being unable to remember their specific dreams, yet they feel dread about them. Wives and partners report that the men sleep fitfully, and some call out in agitation. A very few actually grab their partners and attempt to do them harm before they have fully awakened. Finally, maintaining sleep has proven to be a problem for many of these veterans. They report waking up often during the night for no apparent reason. Many rise quite early in the morning, still feeling very tired. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 27 11 November 1988 >> INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS << Traumatic memories of the battlefield and other less affect-laden combat experiences often play a role in the daytime cognitions of combat veterans. Frequently, these veterans re- port replaying especially problematic combat experiences over and over again. Many search for possible alternative outcomes to what actually happened in Vietnam. Many castigate themselves for what they might have done to change the situation, suffering subsequent guilt feelings today because they were unable to do so in combat. The vast majority report that these thoughts are very uncomfortable, yet they are unable to put them to rest. Many of the obsessive episodes are triggered by common, everyday experiences that remind the veteran of the war zone: helicopters flying overhead, the smell of urine (corpses have no muscle tone, and the bladder evacuates at the moment of death), the smell of diesel fuel (the commodes and latrines contained diesel fuel and were burned when filled with human excrement), green tree lines (these were searched for any irregularity which often meant the presence of enemy movement), the sound of popcorn popping (the sound is very close to that of small arms gunfire in the distance), any loud discharge, a rainy day (it rains for months during the monsoons in Vietnam) and finally the sight of Vietnamese refugees. A few combat veterans find the memories invoked by some of these and other stimuli so uncomfortable that they will actually go out of their way to avoid them. When exposed to one of the above or similar stimuli, a very small number of combat veterans undergo a short period of time in a dissociative-like state in which they actually reexperience past events in Vietnam. These flashbacks can last anywhere from a few seconds to a few hours. One veteran described an episode to me in which he had seen some armed men and felt he was back in Vietnam. The armed men were police officers. Not having a weapon to protect himself and others, he grabbed a passerby and forcefully sheltered this person in his home to protect him from what he felt were the "gooks." He was medicated and hospitalized for a week. Such experiences among Vietnam veterans are rare, but not as un- common as many may believe. Many veterans report flashback epi- sodes that last only a few seconds. For many, the sound of a helicopter flying overhead is a cue to forget reality for a few seconds and remember Vietnam, reexperiencing feelings they had there. It is especially troublesome for those veterans who are still "numb" and specifically attempting to avoid these feelings. For others, it is just a constant reminder of their time in Vietnam, something they will never forget. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 28 11 November 1988 >> REFERRALS FOR HELP << As already discussed, post-traumatic stress disorders result in widely varying degrees of impairment. When a single veteran (whether bachelor or divorced) with the disorder requests help, I refer him to a group of other combat veterans. The reasons are twofold. First, the veteran is usually quite isolated and has lost many of his social skills. He has few contacts with other human beings. The group provides a microcosm in which he can again learn how to interact with other people. It also helps remove the fear, prevalent among these veterans, that each individual veteran is the only individual with these symptoms. In addition, many of the veterans form close support groups of their own outside the therapy sessions; they telephone each other and help each other through particularly problematic episodes. Second, the most basic rationale for group treatment of these veterans is that it finally provides the veteran with that "long boat ride home" with other veterans who have had similar experiences. It provides a forum in which veterans troubled by their combat experiences can work their feelings through with other veterans who have had similar conflicts. In addition, the present symptoms of the disorder are all quite similar, and there is more reinforcement in working through these symptoms with one's peers than in doing it alone. The group situation is appropriate for most degrees of the symptoms presented. The especially isolated individuals will often be quite frightened of the initial group session. When challenged by questioning the strength that brought them to the initial interview, however, they will usually respond by following through with the group. Those with severely homicidal or suicidal symptoms are best handled in a more crisis-oriented, one-to-one setting until the crisis is resolved. I refer these veterans to an appropriate emergency team, with the expectation directly shared with the veteran that he will join the group as soon as the crisis has abated. Veterans who are presently married or living with a partner pre- sent a somewhat different picture. Their relationships with their partners are almost invariable problematic. Frequently, a violent, explosive episode at home created the crisis that brought the veteran in for counseling in the first place. When such is the case or there is a history of battering of the par- tner, it is extremely important to refer the veteran and his partner to a family disturbance counseling center. The conse- quences of this continued behavior are obvious. In addition, a referral for the veteran to a group with other combat veterans is appropriate. The partner of the veteran may find some under- standing of her plight and additional support from a woman's group created specifically for partners of Vietnam combat veterans. Other veterans who are married or living with a partner may not be experiencing so serious a problem. However, the partners are often detached from one another; they just seem to live under NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 29 11 November 1988 the same roof, period. Referral of the veteran to a combat vet- erans group and referral of the partner to a partners of Vietnam veterans group is important. Some veterans and their partners will jointly attend the screening session. Both are troubled by what has been happening and often want to enter marital therapy together immediately. In my experience, the veteran finds it extremely difficult in the beginning of therapy to deal with interactional aspects with his partner when other past interactions with traumatic overtones overshadow the present. When these traumatic experiences do surface, the partner is often unable to relate. Therefore, it is much more beneficial, in my opinion, to allow the veteran time with other combat veterans in a group. In the meantime, suggest a woman's support group for partners of Vietnam veterans for the spouse. Here she would receive additional support as well as an understanding of post-traumatic stress disorders. Sometime thereafter, marital therapy, couples group therapy or family therapy may be appropriate. Many veterans with post-traumatic stress disorders, in addition to the symptoms already described, also have significant prob- lems due to multiple substance abuse. In my experience, those veterans who have habitually medicated themselves have com- pounded the problem. Not only do they experience many of the symptoms already described, but the additional symptoms of chronic multiple substance abuse and alcoholism may mask the underlying reasons for self-medication as well. Therefore, these chronic syndromes, which perpetuate themselves through addictive behavior, must be dealt with first. Then a more ac- curate picture of the underlying problem will result, and an appropriate referral can be made. Except for some help with an immediate crisis upon being first interviewed during the screening session, the combat veteran struggling with the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, chronic and/or delayed, benefits most from group interaction with his combat peers. Throughout this paper I have emphasized the individual, solitary aspect of the war for each veteran. The aftermath of the war has followed in kind. Now, with the help from the DAV Vietnam Veterans Outreach Program and the VA's Operation Outreach (Vet Center) program, models have been esta- blished for reintegrating troubled Vietnam veterans with them- selves and their society. Helping the community to recognize the problem and directing the veteran to the specialized services of the community have given the veteran struggling with this disorder a means of "coming home." >> REFERENCES << Anderson, R.S. (Ed.). NEUROPSYCHIATRY IN WORLD WAR II, Volume I. Washington, D.C. Office of the Surgeon General, 1966 Archibald, H.E. & Tuddenham, R.D. Persistent stress reaction after combat: A twenty-year follow-up. ARCHIVES OF GENERAL PSYCHIATRY, 1965, 12: 475-481 Boros, J.F. Reentry: III. Facilitating healthy readjustment in NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 30 11 November 1988 Vietnam veterans. PSYCHIATRY, 1973, 36(4):428-439 Bourne, P.G. MEN, STRESS AND VIETNAM. Boston: Little, Brown, 1970 Dancey, T.E. Treatment in the absence of pensioning for psychoneurotic veterans. AMERICAN JOURNAL OF PSYCHIATRY, 1950, 107:347-349 DeFazio, V.J. Dynamic perspectives on the nature and effects of combat stress. In C.R. Figley (Ed.), STRESS DISORDERS AMONG VIETNAM VETERANS: THEORY, RESEARCH AND TREATMENT> New York: Brunner/Mazel, 1978. DIAGNOSTIC AND STATISTICAL MANUAL, Edition I. Washington D.C.: American Psychiatric Association, 1952. DIAGNOSTIC AND STATISTICAL MANUAL, Edition II. Washington D.C.: American Psychiatric Association, 1968. DIAGNOSTIC AND STATISTICAL MANUAL, Edition III. Washington D.C.: American Psychiatric Association, 1980. Dividend from Vietnam, TIME, Oct. 10, 1969, pp. 60-61 Egendorf, A. Vietnam veteran rap groups and themes of postwar life. In D.M. Mantell & Pilisuk (Eds.), JOURNAL OF SOCIAL ISSUES: SOLDIERS IN AND AFTER VIETNAM, 1975,31(4): 111-124 Eisenhart, R.W. You can't hack it little girl: A discussion of the covert psychological agenda of modern combat training. In D.M. Mantell & Pilisuk (Eds.), JOURNAL OF SOCIAL ISSUES: SOLDIERS IN AND AFTER VIETNAM, 1975,31(4):13-23 Erikson, E. IDENTITY, YOUTH AND CRISIS. New York: W.W. Norton, 1968 Figley, C.R. Introduction. In C.R. Figley (Ed.), STRESS DISORDERS AMONG VIETNAM VETERANS: THEORY, RESEARCH AND TREATMENT. New York: Brunner/Mazel, 1978(a). Figley, C.R. Psychosocial adjustment among Vietnam veterans: An overview of the research. In C.R. Figley (Ed.), STRESS DISORDERS AMONG VIETNAM VETERANS: THEORY, RESEARCH AND TREATMENT. New York: Brunner/Mazel, 1978(b). Futterman, S. & Pumpian-Mindlin, E. Traumatic war neuroses five years later. AMERICAN JOURNAL OF PSYCHIATRY, 1951, 108(6): 401-408. Glass, A.J. Psychotherapy in the combat zone. AMERICAN JOURNAL OF PSYCHIATRY, 1954, 110:725-731 Glass, A.J. Introduction. In P.G. Bourne (Ed.), THE PSYCHOLOGY AND PHYSIOLOGY OF STRESS. New York: Academic Press, 1969, xiv- xxx. Grinker, R.R. & Spiegel, J.P. MEN UNDER STRESS. Philadelphia: Blakiston, 1945 Horowitz, M.J. & Solomon, G.F. A prediction of delayed stress response syndromes in Vietnam Veterans. In D.M. Mantell & Pilisuk (Eds.), JOURNAL OF SOCIAL ISSUES: SOLDIERS IN AND AFTER VIETNAM, 1975,31(4):67-80. Howard, S. The Vietnam warrior: His experience and implications for psychotherapy. AMERICAN JOURNAL OF PSYCHOTHERAPY, 1976,30(1):121-135. Jones, F.D. & Johnson, A.W. Medical psychiatric treatment policy and practice in Vietnam. In D.M. Mantell & M. Pilisuk (Eds.), JOURNAL OF SOCIAL ISSUES: SOLDIERS IN AND AFTER VIETNAM, 1975, 31(4):49-65. Kormos, H.R. The nature of combat stress. In C.R. Figley (Ed.), STRESS DISORDERS AMONG VIETNAM VETERANS: THEORY, TREATMENT AND RESEARCH. New York: Brunner/Mazel, 1978. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 31 11 November 1988 Lifton, R.J. HOME FROM THE WAR. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1973. Lifton, R.J. THE LIFE OF THE SELF. New York:Simon & Schuster, 1976. Moskos, C.C. The American combat soldier in Vietnam. In D.M. Mantell & Pilisuk (Eds.), JOURNAL OF SOCIAL ISSUES: SOLDIERS IN AND AFTER VIETNAM, 1975, 31(4): 25-37. PRESIDENT'S COMMISSION ON MENTAL HEALTH. Report of the special working group: Mental health problems of Vietnam era veterans. Washington: Feb. 15, 1978. Seligman, M.E.P. & Maier, S.F. Failure to escape traumatic shock. JOURNAL OF EXPERIMENTAL PSYCHOLOGY, 1967, 74: 1-9. Shatan, C.F. The grief of soldiers: Vietnam combat veterans' self-help movement. AMERICAN JOURNAL OF ORTHOPSYCHIATRY, 1973, 43(4): 640-653. Shatan, C.F. Stress disorders among Vietnam veterans: The emotional content of combat continues. In C.R. Figley (Ed.), STRESS DISORDERS AMONG VIETNAM VETERANS: THEORY, RESEARCH AND TREATMENT. New York: Brunner/Mazel, 1978. Strayer, R. & Ellenhorn, L. Vietnam veterans: A study exploring adjustment patterns and attitudes. In D.M. Mantell & M. Pilisuk (Eds.), JOURNAL OF SOCIAL ISSUES: SOLDIERS IN AND AFTER VIETNAM, 1975, 31(4):81-93. Tiffany, W.J. & Allerton, W.S. Army psychiatry in the mid-60s. AMERICAN JOURNAL OF PSYCHIATRY, 1967, 123: 810-821. Williams, T. VIETNAM VETERANS. Unpublished paper presented at the University of Denver, School of Professional Psychology, Denver, Colorado: April, 1979. Wilson, J.P. Identity, ideology and crisis: The Vietnam veteran in transition. Part I. Identity, ideology and crisis: The Vietnam veteran in transition. Part II. Psychosocial attributes of the veteran beyond identity: Patterns of adjustment and future implications. FORGOTTEN WARRIOR PROJECT, Cleveland State University, 1978. (Reprinted by the Disabled American Veterans, Cincinnati, Ohio, 1979. Now out of print. Dr. Wilson's findings are updated and summarized in C.R. Figley's STRANGERS AT HOME. See following reference.) Wilson, J.P. Conflict, stress and growth: the effects of the Vietnam War on psychosocial development among Vietnam veterans. In C.R. Figley & S. Leventman (Eds.), STRANGERS AT HOME: VIETNAM VETERANS SINCE THE WAR, Praeger Press, 1980. ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 32 11 November 1988 ================================================================= MEMORIES ================================================================= ANATOMY OF A WARRIOR Printed without permission but with honorable intentions Written originally by Carole J. Lund 11-10-82 I hide secrets deep within me Of horrors I have seen I reflect the suffering I've witnessed And the deaths that shouldn't have been I sometimes burn with passion Or sparkle full of warmth and fun Or turn cold hard and full of hate As the barrel of a gun The pain I have is great indeed Yet I cannot shed a tear The terror I try to keep concealed Shows itself when I most fear I cannot be withheld from Revealing truths amidst the lies For I'm the window of his soul I'm the Vietnam Veteran's eyes. I am gifted and creative I have talents few have known I show love and understanding Though I have none of my own I function without Question Through good times and white hot rage I comfort and I terrify I clasp, then disengage I shake with anger and with tantrums And hang limp through resignation I've carried weapons through the jungles I've taken lives in other lands I've given comfort to a dying friend I'm the Vietnam Veteran's hands. Birds sing outside the window Cars pass along the lane But these sounds are drowned by echoes Of a useless war's refrain Rain falling down through waxen leaves A scared monkey's screaming song Men tramping through an alien world Where none of them belong NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 33 11 November 1988 Machine guns fire from up ahead Men falling in the mud The moaning of a soldier child Who lies dying in his blood Jet engine's hum - returning home But still the war's so near The sounds will ever echo through me I'm the Vietnam Veteran's ears. I am tortured and tormented My pain is too severe For me to function as I once did Now I'm paralyzed with fear I'm haunted by the memory of My friend whose blood was spilled I cannot help but wonder why My heartbeat wasn't stilled I wish sometimes I could have been One of the boys who fell I pray to Godless Heavens For my release from Hell I'd like to climb down deep inside To be deaf and dumb and blind I came back mortally wounded I'm the Vietnam Veteran's mind. I know much pain I don't deserve Have pressures I don't need Have fears that were not there before I feel I should be freed I want to run away somewhere Where negativity can't find me To sprout wings and soar so high above That no earthly force can bind me I find now that I doubt myself Where before no doubt existed I succumb to forces I can't see Things that used to be resisted I know the pain, I've met the fear Which seems to dominate my life But it seems I have no power now I'm the Vietnam Veteran's Wife. (c) Copyright 1982 (All rights reserved) Carole J. Lund ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 34 11 November 1988 Why Isn't Billy's Up There? by Mike Dealey You talk about strength, I show you strength. Strength in the form of one Billy Brown. Your war and mine lasted what; one tour, two, three at the outside? Billy's been fighting to survive everyday of his life for the last 21-years. Our 12-months was an eternity...Billy's been thru 250 months of pure hell. Funny how we met. I stopped in the deli at the supermarket to get a cup of coffee while I tried to remember what I had been sent to the store for--the ol' brain is going, I tell you. This fellow came rolling up in his wheelchair to another booth with a couple of corny dogs and a cup of joe. I didn't pay a whole lot of attention till I saw he was having trouble opening one of those little packets of mustard. His hands just couldn't do it and he was trying with his teeth. I walked over to give him an assist and just on a hunch said, "You in Nam?" I brought my coffee over and we had a pretty long chat. Turns out he was a Gyrene at Disneyland in '67. He was out in an LP when the gooks (his term, not mine) tried to breach the wire. They were surrounded and calling in mortars almost on their own position when one of the only ChiCom grenades in history that ever detonated spewed a stream of shrapnel up his spine, shattering it from top to bottom. Totally paralyzed from the waist down. Arms only slightly better. Wears a steel back brace to keep his torso from folding up like a piece of cardboard. Speech is heavily slurred since he has minimal control of his jaw muscles. One step away from bed-ridden. Kinda looks like a skeleton. But Billy's got a whole lot better outlook on life than I could ever have in that circumstance: you do what you gotta do...just keep on a-humping...don't mean nothing. And the Lord will take care of you in the end. Yeah, fortunately Billy found the Lord a few years ago. Only thing he lives for now. Only thing he has. Billy makes do. He's 100% disability, of course. Lives in an apartment in a retirement facility where people go to die when their life is done. Medicaid picks up part of the bill. Billy's just sorry he hasn't got more to give to the church. He spends most of his day tending to himself: shaving, dressing, eating, making his own meals--all that's close to a full-time job. Some days he just stays in bed, getting up just isn't worth the effort. The rest of the time he spends reading the bible. Doesn't own a TV. Looks forward to his once-a-week sojourne to the supermarket and his two corny dogs, just like clock work. We chatted till his little shuttle bus came. I wheeled him out, watched as they operated the hydraulic thingie to lift his chair into the bus, and shot him a salute as they were leaving. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 35 11 November 1988 Ruined my whole day. Lyndon Baines Johnson would have been rolling over in his grave if he could have read my mind at that time. Why? Why? Why couldn't that grenade have gone ahead and totalled Billy on the spot? Why does he have to suffer the rest of his entire life for mankind? Why does Billy's war have to go on and on forever and ever? Why? There's 58,000 names on The Wall. We're told there are a quarter of a million Billies out there. I know I'm gonna get a bunch of hate mail for saying this, but I sometimes think they put the wrong names on that wall. ----------------------------------------------------------------- For Those Who Fought For It... >>> FREEDOM <<< Has A Taste The Protected Will Never Know ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 36 11 November 1988 Memories of the Young Bleeder By: Lynda M. Van Devanter When I read about President Carter's call to renew registration of the draft, this is what I see: It is 3 a.m. in Pleiku, South Vietnam. The fighting in the central highlands is heavy, and I am called out of my sleep to the operating room. I have been sleeping on the floor under my cot, having been awakened an hour earlier by a rocket attack, as on most other nights. Even in my groggy state, the gruff words on the phone, "Casualties! Get down here, on the double!," are enough to send my adrenaline flowing, and I'm alert by the time I get to the OR. I change quickly to scrub cloths, and report to the head nurse for my assignment. "There's a bad one in the neuro," she says, "and I need you to pump blood in there." The neuro room is one that I don't particularly like to work in, since head wounds are usually so messy, but, even knowing that I am unprepared for the sight that awaits me. It's the largest trail of blood leading to the table that I have ever seen. I slip on it because my eyes are drawn to the gurney where several people are transferring the soldier to the operating table. I watch in horror as the lower portion of his jaw, teeth exposed, dangles from what is left of his face. It swings in the air as he is moved from the gurney to the table, and I hold my breath to keep from getting sick. For a moment I am glued to the spot. I thought I had gotten used to it but it keeps getting worse. The shout of the anesthetist brings me up sharply, and I rush to his side to assist him in a tracheotomy. "We've got to get an airway into him fast - he's drowning in blood." he yells, and my training moves me into action. I grab a tray of instruments and open it. For the sake of speed, we perform the trach without donning gloves. Once the opening into the boy's windpipe is completed, and he is being ventilated, I move to help the surgeon. He grabs instruments from the tray to clamp off the largest bleeders in the face and jaw. Meanwhile, the scrub technician is setting up the sterile field of linens and instruments, and, once the largest bleeders are tied off, the surgeon puts on his gown and gloves and they begin to work in earnest to try and repair the damage. Now I know what the head nurse meant when she told me that I was needed to pump blood. The young soldier is bleeding so fast that it is necessary to start four large needles in his leg, neck and both arms, and pump blood into all of them simultaneously. I do only this for several hours. I invent a routine. Start at the neck, take down the empty bag of blood, slip a new one into the pressure cuff, pump up the pressure in the cuff and rehang it. Then go to the left arm and repeat the process. Next the left leg, then finally the right arm. Then start back at the neck line and repeat the entire sequence. It takes about five minutes to complete the steps at NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 37 11 November 1988 each site, about twenty minutes to make a round of him. It becomes rote after a while and I lapse into thinking about the patient. During one of my circuits around the table, I move his clothes to one side, and a snapshot falls out of the pocket of his fatigues, it is of a young couple - him and his girl, I guess - dressed for a prom. Tears come to my eyes. He is gazing sweetly at the girl. Straight, blond and tall, he looks good in a tuxedo. She, too, is tall, with shining dark hair. She is wearing a long pastel gown. Love for him shining in her eyes. The scene is stark contrast to what I see in this room. The lovely young man is now a mass of blood vessels and skin, so macerated that nothing could hold them together. The more the surgeon works, the more the boy bleeds. I've always held onto the notion that, given enough time, anything can be stopped from bleeding. Just keep at it, and eventually you'll get every last vessel. I am about to learn a hard lesson. I pump 120 units of blood i to that young man. But as fast as I pump it in he pumps it out. After hours of work, the surgeon finally realizes that it is futile. He wraps the boys head in layers of pressure bandages and sends him to the post op/intensive- care unit to die. As I clean up the room, I keep telling myself that a miracle could happen. He could stop bleeding. He'll be alright. I moved about the mess, picking up blood-soaked linen and putting them into the hamper. I come across the photograph again, pick it up and stare. He had been real. He was a person who could love and think and plan and dream - and now he is lost to himself, to her and to their fu- ture. I sit on the floor, my head in my hands, and sob. After making the room ready for the next head injury - the next person - I walk over to the post-op/ICU to see him. His bandages have become saturated with blood several time over, and the nurses have reinforced it with more rolls of bandage, mostly to cover it up, so now his head is grotesquely large under the swath of white. I hold his hand for a few moments and ask him if he is in pain. He squeezes my hand weekly and I tell him I'll request some pain medication. He squeezes my hand again iin answer. I stand holding hands with him for another few moments, the last of his life. My hands shake now as I write this, as they did then, and the tears return. I think of this incident again now, and of many others like it during that year in Vietnam. I am reminded of tiny children with their arms and legs blown off. I remember a pregnant woman with a belly wound, and the delivery of her child by Caesarean section - the child who entered this life with a gunshot wound in his belly, the perfect circle of life in war. A decade later, we have even more advanced weapons of war, and my heart aches with the thought that we may decide to use them. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 38 11 November 1988 When will we learn the lessons of past wars? When will we stop taking the seed of our lives, our children, and sending them to destruction? When will we realize that war does nothing but perpetuate war - that violence begets only violence? I ask our President and the leaders of the world community, can we not find some way of living together in peace and harmony? Can we not stop what seems to be carrying us inexorably toward another war - and possible nuclear destruction? I don't know the answer, I can only pray for peace. EDITORS NOTE: Linda M. Van Devanter, a registered nurse, was a Lieutenant in the Army, stationed at Pleiku, and Qui Nhan, South Vietnam from 1969 to 1970. She is the women's director of Vietnam Veterans of America and a published author of the best seller, "Home Before Morning"; THE story about nurses in Vietnam. ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 39 11 November 1988 Dear Dad Lindy Harris Friends BBS Omaha, Nebraska Dear Dad, It's that time of year again when we all think of you and miss you so much. Holidays of any sort should be happy, but there is one holiday that tears my heart to pieces and it isn't one of our national holidays. The Celebration of TET is one of sorrow and grief for us. I was only 6 years old when you left for Vietnam, and 10 when it dawned on me that you wouldn't be coming back, I felt so lost and abandoned. Mom took things pretty hard, and Chet and I had to sort of take over things for awhile. Mom is okay, and as I've grown up I've come to understand that it was her that had the tough time to begin with. Chet's and mine came later when we understood what death meant. We are all okay, until TET comes around and then we all go into a spin. We finally made the trip to The Wall, and seeing your name there gave me a feeling of having known you much longer than I did. I saw the other names that were there on the day you died, so I know you weren't alone. I can only pray that you did not suffer, and that you've found the peace you fought for. We wanted to leave a letter at The Wall, but all we could do was do was cry. What's The Wall, you ask? It's the most beautiful and yet the saddest monument that has ever existed. The war in Vietnam was so dark and tragic, and the monument, nay,the Memorial which every NamVet calls "The Wall," is also dark and tragic. It's a black slash in the earth made of black marble that carries the names of all the men and women Killed In Action. When we walked, stopped, cried and cried and went on to the next panel, there were more tears. A man walked up to us and asked if there was a name on the wall that belonged to us. We told him yes, and when he found out you were a Marine and the outfit you were with, he asked us to wait about an hour while he looked up a buddy that might have known you. His buddy arrived and although he couldn't remember you specifically, he told us what it was like and how we had WON the Tet Offensive! Each of us have mourned your death in our own way and it took awhile to get our lives to settle down to a modest roar at all the injustices that went on during the years of the Vietnam War era. Things are looking up for all of us now, and I'd like to tell you about everything that's happened to us, but I'll try to be brief, at least this time. Chet? Well, I think you would be very proud of your son. He graduated last year form M.I.T., and will be joining the Marines as soon as he has his bills paid. (He owes Mom a NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 40 11 November 1988 bundle!) I don't think it will take too long. Mom says he has one of your questionable traits of character, he is either going full bore for something or other he wants badly, almost a workaholic, and won't quit until it's perfect, or he sits on his duff "thinking". I don't have time to sit for very long, but I wish a bit of the drive he inherited from you had rubbed off on me. Mom remarried last April, and Don is a fine man. Mom is happy and he treats all of us wonderfully. And he is one heck of a fisherman, which I thought you might like to know. Me? It's a difficult thing to try and tell you what's going on in my life. I met, fell in love with a man that was sort of like what I remembered about you, and married him. I kept comparing him with what little I remembered about you, and what Chet and mom told me over the years, and it's pointless to say he wasn't a bit like you. When we both discovered what the problem was, we ended a miserable marriage. We have been friendly most of the time, and share equal custody of our two beautiful children. How I would love to have you see them, even though I can't quite see you as a grandfather. You were my dad, and I still have my childs vision of you. Our kids know a lot about you, since we drag out all the movies, photos and tapes you sent to us from Vietnam, plus the movies the whole family were in while you were with us. We do that at least once a year when we manage to get the whole Corps in the same city and house. We've all been watching Tour of Duty, which is a television program that is trying to tell us what it was like in Vietnam, and though it's a dramatization, most of the NamVets I've talked to says it comes close. It's a great deal different than the war we saw on the nightly news on television. It's frightening to get a glimpse of what happened over there to you and your buddies. We have tried to understand what happened to us as a Nation during the 60's and 70's, but I think you would like to know that America has finally got it's act together and is recognizing that the War in Vietnam that took you and thousands of others from us, is finally over and that the healing is taking place. I'm back in school again, after putting my dreams on hold while I tried and failed to be mother, wife and wage earner. Making ends meet isn't the easiest thing to do, but I'm in the upper 10% of my class and I'll be getting my degree and graduate in June. Mom and Don help with the children, and it's amazing how things have fallen into place at last. All of us have futures, and tend not to dwell in the past quite so much. I seem to be rambling a bit, but I was just sitting here thinking of the things I have wished you could have seen me do over the years. First date, turning 16, being an absolute flop in a high school play, buying my first car with my own money, getting married, having my babies, oh how I wished you were NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 41 11 November 1988 here for all the celebrations of life. I've wanted to say all these things before, but didn't know where to send them until I found the International Vietnam Veterans Echo. If the Echo is loud enough, I'm sure you will hear me. Love, Your daughter, Lindy. P.S. Mom used to let me put S.W.A.K. on the backs of all the letters she sent. Do you think I could do that here too? I thought so. >>> * S W A K * <<<<< ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 42 11 November 1988 Family Ties By G. Joseph Peck VETLink #1 Pittsfield, MA 321/203 (413-443-6313) Gently, so as not to make too much noise, she approaches the black granite that rises, behemoth-like, from the grassy Washington Mall. She feels better coming alone and at night. On her left, appearing as if it would speak at any moment, is the Lincoln Memorial; light seeming to come from nowhere makes it as though a beacon in the darkness. To her right, towering high, is the Washington Monument. She can hear the precise steps of the military honor guard as it performs its vigilant duty at The Wall. A National Park Service attendant, small light shining on the Directory of Names, stands somber watch. "Wilbee Simmons, Sir? Could you tell me where I'd find his name listed?" The Park Attendant directs her to the west panels. Slowly, fearfully, yet mustering every bit of her strength, Teri looks carefully for the name of her husband. There's something about the way the Washington lights reflect from The Wall that remind her of the song Wilbee dedicated to her way back when they were only in their early years of high school. Building; preparing; steeling herself for the moment that HAS to come, she quietly hums to herself their familiar tune: "Ca-atch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away... Ca-atch a.." - and then she came upon it. Hand shaking almost uncontrollably, she reaches over and begins to trace the letters... W I L . . . Eyes watering, it starts. Release. Blessed release. She hasn't cried like this since she'd received the telegram. She'd had to be strong for the kids sake. Now she can let the tears - and Wilbee - go. "Wilbee, Darling, you ARE a part of American history, a living part. Here's John's name; and Gary's; and Jim's ... all of the soldiers you wrote me about. Each of you followed your fathers and family into service - and America's defense. Your brothers and sisters who made it back took upon their shoulders the battle begun by their grandfathers after World War I helping America to always, always keep her promise to care for those who put their lives on-the-line for her. Everyone says that you and all Vietnam veterans are the toughest, most persistent and determined veterans in all American history - and they're right! It's guys like you and your friends who gave EVERYTHING, Wilbee, and those who made it back, who help continue building the America we have today, and the responsible care for America's veterans that our grandfathers fought for. I remember when they used to tell us how the veterans of World War I were put on what we today would call the welfare rolls and looked down upon - and nearly every benefit they sought was denied. The inadequate War Risk Bureau, Board of Vocational NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 43 11 November 1988 Training and Public Health Services, in addition to so much more insensitivity, denial, and corruption of the Federal Government, made them march on Washington. I know you saw your brothers and sisters do a similar thing when they all came here to sharply prod the conscience of America and this monument was dedicated. I can tell you're part of the same family - only you're tougher. I brought the poem you wrote when you went to 'Nam, Wilbee. I remember how much it meant to you. I've saved it all these years - and I'll leave it here for you when I go. I've got it memorized. It's Easter now, a time of new beginnings, a time to get on with living my life in a way that would make you proud of me, a time to take the best that you've given - and go forward. I'm glad I got the chance to come here - to visit, to remember, to use those "Falling Stars" you and I put in our pockets years ago; many rainy days I've used them. Somehow, I have a little more strength now to help me through my life. Thank you, Wilbee Simmons. Remember I'll always love you and the sacrifices you made for me and everybody." Stepping back from the polished granite, Teri softly places a card from her and the two children, a flag, some flowers, and the often-read 12-line poem on the ground in front of Wilbee Simmons name: "America" This is my country! So beautiful and Free! A Land of Freedom for you and me! Where men have fought and men have died So that we may LIVE and share their pride; That this Country of ours, so great and strong, May unite again and sing a together song! Let us be brothers and join together To make our Nation - just a little better May we learn to forgive and forget our hates And never close our shining gates ... May Liberty's torch light the world around And in ALL the nations - may Freedom's echo resound! Teri turned, began to walk away. A bright flash in the western sky quickly caught her eye. A falling star - streaking, as though an arrow, over the Lincoln Memorial. And she remembered the words Lincoln once said: "To care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his children." "Maybe tomorrow I'll ask the Veterans Administration if they can help. After all, my husband did give his life - and our children did give their father - so that we could all continue to live in freedom. Why didn't I think of that before?" Humming to herself another one of their old-time favorites, "That's the story of, that's the glory of... Love", Teri moves along the walkway towards the Washington city lights... NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 44 11 November 1988 Forget Me Not, America ...as you flock by the thousands to pay tribute to a statue who represents your beloved ideals falling short of our ideals, have we settled for idle worship making pilgrimages to stone? No, she cannot remember, whom you have chosen to forget. Among the causalities of war are thousands who've gone uncounted names that will never be remembered belonging to the souls you never claimed. You remember your POWs with unfailing memory and undying efforts to bring them home how can you then choose chains for your own children and let them become prisoners of your own forgetfulness And who pays the price for the forgetfulness of humanity for a lapse of memory that has spanned three wars? How many times have you laid down your arms and left behind, a living breathing part of America a breath without human and civil rights a generation of children left unarmed to fight a battle that begins, when your wars end. You gave us the shape of your eyes the color of your hair the length of your limb these have only made us a curiosity for some an object of scorn by others the child of an American, always but without the freedom of one. My face is a constant reminder of war the masses did not want the child of an uninvited guest I am as welcome and as foreign as your were. In Asia, one's honor is only as good as their word you promised you would return... NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 45 11 November 1988 For the child who sits on the doorstep of fathers broken promise moments turn into lifetimes, and lifetimes into generations I have waited so }any seasons for you my father fought your battle and defended your honor when people asked, where is your father? I said you went to America to prepare a place for mother and me. America. you fight for the first breath of the unborn loose the chains of your forgotten children who remain wealthy heirs to two countries yet without a home to call our own whose only claim is an unmapped destiny in a forgotten country called Amerasia. Susy So Schaller Copyright 1988 Susy So Schaller. ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 46 11 November 1988 My Favorite Nurse... By Glenn Toothman 387/601 NCOA Internat of San Antonio TX Red Headed Nurse Since I have made my trip to the "Wall" I am finally ready to tell the story of my Red Headed Nurse. I couldn't really tell it until I got back, and now it is like clearing a layer of dust off an old master... the colors and visions are back. To start with, I must build the circumstance of meeting my Red Headed Nurse... We were in Phu Bai, and things were really slow, so I got to go to Da Nang, to pick up a new officer, and while there go to 327 PX. It was quiet, and felt that we didn't need to send anyone with me as "shotgun" because nothing would be in the truck, until return trip, and then I would have the LT with me, so I started to Da Nang. It was one of those days just after the monsoon started, the clouds were dark bottomed and iridescent white. The fishing ville just before climbing up to the Hi Van Pass, was quiet, the little bay looked like azure velvet scattered with diamond dust, the little water falls near the road, cascading down the jungle were beyond description. I arrived in Da Nang, and after my exchange run, went and picked up some supplies, then down to the Da Nang Hotel, to get our new officer. When I met him, he got a little upset with me. It seems I was not, in his opinion, what a sergeant should represent. I had no shirt on - just a flak vest and my boots and uniform were, to say the least, a little the worse for wear. Well, he asked where my dog tags were (after he ordered me to put on my shirt) I told him that they were in my pocket where they belonged, well, again no points there, he ordered me to put them around my neck, I complied. We proceeded back to Phu Bai, and had just gone over the crest of the Hi Van Pass, and started down the mountain. It was hot and sticky, so I flipped my dog tags out of my shirt and they were resting on the outside of my flak vest. After about a mile or so down the side of the mountain the windshield exploded, and I felt a tremendous impact on my chest. I knew I had been hit, and thought it was over, I just didn't have the sense to lay down and get into the body bag. I managed to get the truck stopped about half a mile to a mile down the mountain. The sniper had neatly shot my dog tag, and the round had passed through the tag, the edge of my flak vest and into my sternum. At that time I was in quite bit of pain, however I knew that I would survive. The LT drove on into Phu Bai, and took me over to the Evac by this time I was a little shocky but I remember this Nurse, A red headed nurse, slim and in surgical greens. I can't remember exactly what she said, but I *DO* remember what her green eyes said, "You'll be OK" not words, but a feeling passed between us. Again I have to say, I *was not* seriously injured, just a few busted ribs, bruises, and an impact wound on the sternum, but just her being there and the look in her eyes, well, at that time I knew I would survive. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 47 11 November 1988 Now before Martha jumps in and says that it was a combination of all the nurses that I remember, a few weeks later, after I returned to my unit, she hitched a ride back from Da Nang on one of our trucks, and I got a photograph of her.... and know one thing? After thinking of my "fantasy woman" a strange thing happens this "fantasy woman" has many of the physical resembelances of the nurse in Nam My Red Headed Nurse, If that nurse ever sees this or hears If that nurse ever reads this or hears about it, Nam 71, Phu Bai, Tall (at least she seemed so (OK Martha, you win this one, in my eyes and recollection tall, however cannot tell after these years)) Red Headed, Slim, green eyes, Lady, I thank you, my feeling is that you cared and the caring came across through your eyes when I was hurting... I owe you more than anyone can pay, all I can give you is my thanks, and a tear of thanks, If I should ever meet her, I have no idea of what reaction, I would have, but from the keyboard I can say T H A N K Y O U It is because of you I was able to survive The Nam S O M E O N E C A R E D . . . . Y O U Again thank you. That was the story of my red headed nurse. Even though I never knew her name, where she came from, or anything about her, I probably owe her more than I owe anybody in the world, she gave me the will to survive my second tour in Nam.... That is why this Lady (and by association, all Nurses, and medical personell) are so very special to me.... Later...... Glenn ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 48 11 November 1988 A Vets Trip To The Wall By Glenn Toothman 387/601 NCOA Internat of San Antonio TX During my trip to Washington D.C. I had the distinct honor of visiting the "Wall". I was driven over to the DC side by one of our Washington Staff, Mr. Dick Johnson, and as we were coming up Constitution Ave. I got my first glimpse of the Memorial. We parked on 21st St. and was met by Mr. Jack Clark of the "Friends of the Wall", who with, Dick indoctrinated me to the Wall. We proceeded up the cobblestone path that leads to the Wall, and as we turned the corner, I had my first view of the Wall. The smaller panels joined together to enlarge and grow into a majestic view. The walk over to the middle brought me to panel 31 (I had prepared myself with the only name that I could remember at the moment, and located it prior to arriving). Douglas L. Kelly, was there, a feeling that I can't describe traveled over my body. As my eyes saw his name, another jumped out at me, and another. The three names were there... King, Fisher, and Kelly. Feelings that I haven't experienced in years started from my back and traveled forward through my chest to my arms and legs, but still I was not ready to let it go. I asked what panel would be June 1965. I had a special reason to see it. We traveled nearer the apex and I was told that the name I was looking for should be here. I gave the name and all three of us started looking. It was Dick Johnson who first located the name. I looked up and there was Kenneth L. Remmers. A person who had a very personal feeling from my youth. I reached up and touched the name, ran my fingers over each letter, felt the warm vibrating stone. At this point something happened, it seemed that from every dark reecess in my body something came rushing. I had to turn and walk away. I walked straight back to the fence, turned back and looked, seeing nothing. My eyes flooded, if one were watching me it would appear I was crying, in reality it was all of the hurt that I have experienced and held back, flowing out. I re approached Kenneth's name and touched him again, then back to my people, King, Fisher, and Kelly. I was able to touch them, feel them there through the wall, let them go. I reached into my pocket and took out a patch, one of the first shoulder patches given me in '66, and placed it next to them, my way of saying "good-bye", that final hub, a final touching of hands and fingers, all through a name inscribed on the Wall. As I departed the area, it seemed as if a large burden had been lifted, to be compared to returning to the base camp and removing your ruck. Not shedding it forever, just laying it down and knowing where it is, knowing that I can pick it up again, should the need arise. That nite I slept, slept the sleep of peace, the first time in many years, all nite, no sweats, no nightmares. This was my trip to the Wall, the way it made me feel, I am thankful for all who helped, Tom Clark, Dick Johnson and Margeret Hodge, for their help while there... NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 49 11 November 1988 Mommy, Did You Kill Anybody in the War? By Norma Boris Friends BBS, Omaha. Nebraska As I read my January '84 issue of the VVA Veteran, my 6-month old son sleeps soundly in his room. The articles are tingling, unnerving. Particularly unnerving is one on the last page. I read about a man who carried a gun, who was face to face with the enemy, and who killed. I shudder as I contemplate the day my son asks me the question above. After all, I'm mommy, not daddy. It makes me think. Least painfully I think of the time limit we imposed on the Vietnamese patients with "no hope" of improvement. Our doctors, knowing their litters would be left on the dust-off pad at the ARVN hospital, wanted them kept in our Casualty Receiving. We wanted them transferred to simply die elsewhere. Sure as hell, they died. Before a twelve hour limit was imposed, there were patients who just stayed until they stopped breathing - sometimes that was days. The memories of those patients are more painful. After a while I didn't suction so often, finally not at all. I sat there as they breathed more and more irregularly, less and less frequently. The died too - finally, taking just a little of me with them. Then there are the most painful. They are of the ones I told, "I'll be right back..." Even when I was, it wasn't soon enough for them. Their staring eyes were round, their skin American, no matter what color. Last, there are the memories that I do not yet allow entrance into my consciousness. They are the memories of the children. I never knew that tiny, slanted eyes could open SO wide and that children in such pain could be SO quiet. I still handle them in my nightmares. So, son, what do I tell you when you ask, "Mommy, did you kill anybody in the war?" I have a few years, a few years to hope the history books do NOT add the information that women went ... and that women killed. I have a few years to practice my "pat" answers and to hope, against hope, that you never hear the word "Vietnam". "Mommy, did you kill anybody in the war?" Oh my God... yes... Norma Boris served at the 67th Evac in Qui Nhon 1969-70. ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 50 11 November 1988 SERMON FROM MOUNT DONG QUANG (as re-told by Mike Dealey) MATTHEW five-five: "Blessed are the meek, for they shall not be selected for night patrol." MATTHEW five-six: "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall fly B-52s." MATTHEW five-seven: "Blessed are the merciful, for it gives you time to grease the suckers." MATTHEW five-eight: "Blessed are the pure in heart, for it shall be they who clean the sh_tters every day." MATTHEW five-niner: "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God and score beaucoup acid." [This was neatly handwritten on what appeared to be a mimeographed copy. Circa 1969, I'd judge. Author(s) unknown.] ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 51 11 November 1988 *And I waited... AND I WAITED . . . - Anonymous - I married you because I loved you, and because you were handsome, and even though there was a difference of 15 years in our ages, I trusted you. We waited for your orders not knowing where we were going or if I could go. You told me it wasn't easy being married to a 'lifer', and I believed you, for you always told me the truth. And I waited . . . Hurray! WE are going to Japan! And I worried what it would be like living in a foreign country. You told me not to worry and I believed you for you always told me the truth. And I waited . . . You were right, I loved Japan, and I learned to speak Japanese as would a child. Your hours were long, and it seemed we seldom saw each other, but you told me it would soon be better and I believed you, for you always told me the truth. And I waited . . . I worried about the missiles Cuba, and you told me not to worry, and I believed you, for you always told me the truth. But, one November day came the news of the assassination of our president, and I didn't see or hear from you for eleven days. And I waited . . . Johnson was the president now, and things were looking grim in Southeast Asia, but you told me not to worry, and I believed you. I began to wait, and wait, because you were TDY so often and couldn't tell me where you had been, but you told me you were safe and I believed you, for you always told me the truth. And I waited . . . For our orders back to the States, and to a nice house and maybe a family, but you told me we had orders for Thailand. You said I would like it and I believed you, for you always told me the truth. I saw you even less in Thailand for you were always going TDY to places you said you couldn't talk about, but that you were safe and I shouldn't worry, and I believed you, for you always told me the truth. New orders for you came suddenly, and we talked a lot those last few days, and we decided it would be okay for me to stay in Japan with friends as you didn't think your assignment would take very long. You said I would be NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 52 11 November 1988 okay and not to worry about you, and I believed you, for you always told me the truth. And I waited . . . . . . for 364 days and you were back in Japan. You spoke few words about South Vietnam but told me you were shipping over for six more years, but I musn't be upset, we had plenty of time for a family. I believed you . . . And I waited . . . And another tour in the Far East. The next three years you were TDY more than with me in Japan. It seemed what I did best those years was waving goodbye at an aircraft leaving the end of the runway. You told me being married to a 'lifer' wasn't easy, but I already believed that. And I waited . . . You told me you had orders for a tour in Vietnam, but not to worry, you knew the language and the people and you knew you would be okay. And I believed you . . . And I waited . . . When you came back to Japan you were different, but I couldn't say just what it was. You talked less and you were jumpy and the small sounds of traffic or a knock on the door nearly drove you crazy. You were icy cold at times, and there seemed no way I could reach you. I heard you cry out in a dream one night, and when I touched you, it was like an explosion. You hit me and you kicked me and you were so sorry when you realized it was only me. The orders came for Thailand again, but this time I couldn't go. You said it would be good duty, and not to worry and I believed you.. And I waited . . . Then you said you had another tour 'down south' and I worried. You came back again seven months later, with scars on your back and shrapnel in your legs and a two new ribbons on your chest, a Purple Heart and a Silver Star. You had the 'jitterin screamin meanies,' and jumped at every sound. The dreams had been bad before, but now they were even worse. I knew by now not to touch you in your sleep, and only to call your name. You had an ugly rash that wouldn't go away, and your nightmares were scaring me to death. You stared at every person you saw and you watched every move of the trees in the wind. You drank too much, but you said it would be okay soon and you were ready to retire. That was fine with me, I still wanted that family. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 53 11 November 1988 We came back to 'the world' and you retired with 26. You were so spooky at times and the dreams were so bad I didn't think I could stand it anymore. I couldn't imagine how you dealt with the trauma of the dreams you had night after night. But you kept telling me you'd be okay, and I had no reason not to believe you. We had a child so sweet and dear, but she died of cancer within the year. We cried and mourned together for a short while, and then you told me it was your fault and that you should never have fathered a child. I didn't believe you then and I won't believe that now. And I waited . . . The VA couldn't help the rash, and they kept cutting out the lumps that grew on your face and neck and arms. Your nerves were shot and you wouldn't talk to anyone about what was going on inside you, not even to me. You began to have terrible headaches and you said your vision changed at night. The VA didn't believe you but I saw you, and I believed. You got so angry at VA doctors when they told you the headaches were psychosomatic, and you flew into rages at everything and everybody, and even at God. I tired to get you to see a civilian doctor, but you said the country owed you, and you would get what you needed from them. You wouldn't talk to me, and you said I wouldn't understand, and I believed you. And I waited . . . I tried so hard to help and there wasn't anything I could do. The people we met didn't want to hear about Vietnam, and you told me not to tell anyone them you had been there. You said they were naive and cruel and they had killed your men one by one, not with bullets or bombs but with traitorous words and deeds. You told me you had been fighting for a country whose people did not care, and that U.S. policy was geared to public opinion by a President who would not let you win. The riots were going strong and Watergate was all the talk. Nixon pulled the troops out of Vietnam with 'honor' and you cried. The P.O.W.s came home and you cried, you said that wasn't all of them, and I believed you. You told me so many of their names and I wondered how you knew. You said we needed something to care for and we bought an Irish Setter pup and you taught it to quarter a field. You have him a funny Vietnamese call name and he grew and grew. You worked with him so hard and you loved us both. He grew and grew and became a Champion Working Dog. You told me you were going hunting and not to worry that you'd be back the next night. And I believed you. Now I sit and wait, and wait, and wait for the sound of the gate and your footsteps, and stories of the great hunt. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 54 11 November 1988 I've been to the Wall and I've seen all the names, and I wonder why yours isn't there. But it's all right, you didn't die in Vietnam, you died as a result of the combat within yourself. I often wonder how many other women sit and wait for the sound of a footstep, or who awake in the night and find our beds so empty. I wonder how many children wonder why their fathers could no longer bear to be with them. I wonder why you never told us you hurt so much. Three wars couldn't kill you, but you did. (Submitted anonymously) ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 55 11 November 1988 Yahrzeit '88 >> Anonymous << My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: - John Keats "Ode to a Nightingale" She put them up in a brass and stained oak frame. Against the white satin background they didn't appear so ominous, and didn't supply a hint as to the way in which they are awarded. A pretty color, like that on the robes of royalty; pure and deep with majestic allusion. On a weekly basis, she polished the frame, keeping the brass as bright as a ray of morning sunlight. The glass was so spotless that it was possible to see quite clearly ones own reflection. She picked a conspicuous spot for them, and fastened them to the wall in the hallway. And so they hung there, waiting. Waiting. But I didn't look at them. I didn't want to see the morbid days and endless nights that caused their arrival. I didn't want to face the face that won these prizes through violent means. But she kept polishing the brass and glass, commenting "They are precious metals" to those who asked about them. And they hung there on the wall, passed each time a step was taken in the hall. And so they hung there, waiting. Waiting. Each week she would clean them, and the evening sun would cast a reflected light ray to the end of the hall. Each week she would polish them with a tenderness as if they were children to be held. She never said a word about them, but it was easy to tell she was extremely curious about their origins. And so they hung there, waiting. Waiting. Any appeal to remove them was met with stern disapproval. She wanted something to remind her of what had happened, even if she didn't know exactly what that was. She never pried, but held me gently on the nights I would wake up soaked in sweat and tears. She never complained, and never wanted out; instead she would shed tears for my fears, and cry for my sorrows. And every week, she would clean and polish them, until like a beacon they shone. And so they hung there, waiting. Waiting. The sleepless nights faded into the past, the weeks melted into months, and the months passed into years. And each week she would polish them, not voicing a bit of curiosity. She understood the pain, because it was evident in her eyes each morning after a dream of return had come. Her soft touch and NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 56 11 November 1988 wavering voice exposed the silent melancholy her heart felt and she tried so hard to hide. And each week, she returned to them, polishing them brightly. And so they hung there, waiting. Waiting. The tenderness, style and beauty was taken from her in an instant she never realized. I never had a chance to explain to her the prize was one of immense sorrow. She would polish them as if they were the most important thing in our existence. She held them as tenderly as she had held me on the occasions that it was needed. She understood that the key to my welfare was locked in that frame of brass and oak, and the only way to release the demons was to face the face in the reflected glass. And so they hung there, waiting. Waiting. Her funeral was a complete shock. The realization of death I thought had died many years ago. Death was something benign, something that didn't affect me anymore. Yet here she was, the Joy, Beauty and Truth of my life, lying in grassy solitude. She was no longer there to polish the brass and oak frame, so the dust and tarnish collected, dimming the Light they reflected in the past. And so they hung there, waiting. Waiting. What the war couldn't accomplish, I thought pills could. G-d it's such a hard life! The pills: they can fix everything. If I take enough of them.... And like a memory hidden by time, the brass greened and the oak cracked. And so they hung there, waiting. Waiting. Waking up in the hospital, I was told death had been a breath away. My first reaction was anger for failing, then anger for trying, and finally settled into weeks of self imposed isolation, purging the pent up feelings in emotional self-abasement. The questions came faster than I could possibly answer, and I closed myself off even further. Ignoring all life around me. And so they hung there, waiting. Waiting. I got home with the feeling she had deserted me; leaving me in not so silent agony. The first thing I noticed was they were polished, bright as any day she had cleaned them. I asked who polished them, and everyone said they didn't know. I took them off the wall, excused myself and went into my private chambers. For the first time I was able to look at them since they were hung around my neck by the powers that warranted their action. For the first time I was able to look at the face that won them, and realize that it was a face of an ordinary man, and not a maniacal killer. I held them and finally the tears came. The tears that would begin to wash away the stench of guilt and sorrow of the years past. The tears that would finally release NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 57 11 November 1988 me from the unbearable torments of my dreams. As I moved to wipe the fallen tears from the polished glass, I looked and saw her face, as clearly as she was sitting there with me. She was smiling a smile of extreme serenity, and lipped the words "Welcome home. I love you." And just as suddenly, she was gone. I knew then who returned the lustre to them. And they no longer hung there, waiting. Waiting. I took the medals and wrapped them in a bedsheet and boxed them up. The box was taken to a family storage place, where they will be safe and cool. The brass and oak frame that she polished so persistently will be safe from corrosion and decay until I decide to take them out again. But for now, they have served their purpose. The Marines gave them to me for my conduct. My wife gave them to me for my sanity. And they no longer hang there, waiting. Waiting. 15 years ago I finished my SEA tour. 10 years ago my wife died, taking that beautiful smile and that full life with her. With this, the tenth anniversary of her death, I would like to let the world know that she was with me when all others had given up hope, and loved me when I didn't seem to love her back. So my continuing love for her I express poorly in these words: You were all of life to me. Yet when I thought that you had abandoned me in death, you still managed to pull me through life. You gave me back that burning desire for life I had lost. Even as you could support me in life, you saved me in death. I cannot offer anything other than the troth I pledged before, to reaffirm before G-d and man to love you for all eternity. # # # Semper fidelis -Anonymous ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 58 11 November 1988 ================================================================= GENERAL ARTICLES ================================================================= A Different Battlefield by G. Joseph Peck A short while ago I thought I'd visit my old home town. "Bert" -- the 35-inch-plus smallmouth bass, was still reported to be in the pond I used to fish before I joined the service. Patches of snow dotted the mountainside near the pond and occasionally the sound of a moving automobile on the highway far below would disturb the silence. Barren trees, somehow vaguely reminiscent of a faraway jungle, stood careful watch over the now-empty, century-and-a-half old, two-story farmhouse where I once lived. Truly, this IS "America the Beautiful". The entire town still looked the same. Even the new supermarket - built to replace the Country Store after it burned awhile ago - retained a familiar look. "Funny," I thought, "How the supermarket and I are somewhat alike: older, yet new; still a part of this Town. We bring our experiences to town under an accepted, familiar covering and help it grow." The train of thought steered my thinking to the college I was attending, colleges I had read about, and colleges the news media had mentioned over the past few years. Something had begun to disturb me. In this solitude, this peace and beautiful quiet, could I find out what it might be? A huge, dark form moved through the waters below me, and the hint of a problem began to crystallize into recognizable form. Proud and patriotic Patrick Henry once said: "Give me liberty or give me death!" Over the last few years, from campus to campus across this great nation of ours, lurking between studies of calculus, psychology, and business management, and concealed in the midst of classes in Political Science and Saturday night parties, hidden - yet clearly evident - in the nonexistent studies of Military Strategy and Intelligent Counterinsurgency, a new, not-too-cryptic version of his statement has filtered the air and can be faintly heard with an almost-cowardly, almost-un-American sound: "Give me liberty and all the things that loyalty and freedom can buy; give me a chance to be all that I can be, but DON'T, in any way, ask me to physically defend this country's precious principles, and please, DON'T give me death.! For example . . . A few months ago, startling many students NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 59 11 November 1988 (and sending one hurriedly home to protect his family), a military medevac helicopter slowly descended upon a local college campus while, almost simultaneously, representatives of the U.S. Military began arriving in jeeps, a semitrailer, and an ambulance with a big red cross painted on the side of it. Armed Forces Open House day was about to begin - but not without conflict! Across the open-air quad in which the event was being held, with a fervor and actions that would have been admirable on any battlefield, many members of the campus group of Conscientious Objectors (C.O.'s) were busy corralling passersby, handing them a printed page, and trying to impress upon them their feelings that involvement in any form with the present U.S. Military is wrong (Imagine, if you will, what would have happened had there been a "counter-Open House" presented by the C.O.'s and, during the event, representatives from the various military branches actively attempted to recruit new personnel for their services.) "Where my feelings THEN, feelings of anger? Did I want to forcibly remove the C.O.'s from the Armed Forces Open House?" I thought, "Have I learned anything from our country's involvement with 'Nam? Do these people, many of whom haven't even SEEN a rifle - let alone used it to defend themselves, have ANY idea of the price of freedom?" The thoughts of moments past came flooding back into my mind: "...older - yet new; still a part of this ... We bring our experiences... under an accepted, familiar covering and help it grow." There on a mountaintop in my old home town, fishing line vanishing into the dark-green pond world of the "Bert's" and others like him, I came to realize that, for the American soldier, the battle for Liberty and Freedom isn't just in another country, isn't always a battle conducted with physically damaging weapons. The "battlefield" and "weapons" change. Sometimes it is "silence - no matter how much another course of action is desired" that will prove the true exercise of Freedom, allowing others to be free. A tug on my line! Was it Bert? Or could it have been the thought: "Freedom - is not without costs, not without constant awareness, and, most assuredly, not a one-way street!" ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 60 11 November 1988 BROTHER RAT'S BOONIE GOURMET COOKING This column presents the most delectable (deleteable?) cuisine south of the 17th parallel and west of the international dateline. By popular demand, after much online debate over the delights of ham and MF's (or MF's and beans as one brother insists) and other delights of the palate. Your participation will determine the longevity of the column. If we get any submissions, the column will continue. No new recipes cancels the column. BOONIE BREAKFAST EXTRORDINARE INGREDIENTS: One packet of Vietnamese style Shrimp Ramien (with Red Peppers) One packet of C Ration Cocoa Three packets of C Ration Creamer One packet of C Ration Coffee Three packets of C Ration Sugar Veggies, onions, and stuff scrounged as available Nouc Mam One canteen of water (preferably without iodine tablets) Two canteen cups Two 1cm squares of Composition C4 DIRECTIONS: Fill one canteen cup 2/3 full of water. Dump in the Ramien seasoning mix and stir. Add in any Veggies , onions, garlic or other additives you have found on the trail or been able to bargain for at the last ville. Add good quality Nouc Mam to taste. If you can spare it, you may want to drain and dice a can of C Ration Pork slices. If you have recently gotten a goody box from home, you may want to splurge and put some canned shrimp or tuna in the mix. After adding the other ingredients, break the ramien noodles so that the liquid will cover them and add them to the cup. Use your K- Bar or bayonet to dig a two inch trench. Place one square of C4 in the trench and the canteen cup over the C4. Light the C4 and allow the water to boil vigorously for 30 seconds or until the C4 quits burning (which ever occurs first). Set aside the main course to steep while you prepare the beverage. Fill the second canteen cup 2/3 full of water. Add the Cocoa, creamer, sugar, and coffee. Stir. Place the cup over the previously constructed trench and add the second cube of C4. Ignite and allow to boil vigorously for 30 seconds. The breakfast stew should be consumed with home made chopsticks slirpily while in an oriental squat. If you have not yet made your chopsticks, cut some bamboo and split out a few pair. Traditionally, the beverage is consumed either before or NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 61 11 November 1988 after the stew, but not with it. Try it. It'll make your whole day. HONOR THY CO VAN MY (AMERICAN ADVISOR) CHICKEN STEW INGREDIENTS: One whole (completely) chicken 250 grams of oriental rice Vegetables of the season Plenty of Water One large cooking pot Salt, Pepper, MSG, garlic, Nouc Mam DIRECTIONS: This dish is usually served at a festive occasion with appropriate ceremony an decorum. The Co Van is always the guest of honor. First, catch and kill the chicken. Pluck most of the feathers off the bird. Cut the head and neck and the feet off and set these delicacies aside till later. Gut and clean the chicken at your option. Next, take a machete or some other blunt cutting instrument and hack up the chicken into uniform pieces (bones and all) appropriate size for eating with chopsticks. Now, cut all the other ingredients into chopstick size pieces. Place them in the cooking pot along with the raw rice and cover with water. Add Nouc Mam, and all other seasonings. Now, to prepare the garnish and decoration that makes the dish suitable for formal eating. Take the feet you set aside earlier and place them on top of the contents of the pot claws up and crossed. Next, place the head (with eyes) and neck in the center of the crossed feet. Once you have garnished the dish, place over a fire until the rice is done and the meat cooked. Bring the dish to the table with a flourish and place it before the guest of honor. The guest of honor is always served first, and given the choicest parts (head and feet). The advisor should observe proper protocol by diving into this feast head first (eyeballs are especially considered a delicacy), and not loosing lunch. This can truly be described as the lunch of champions. From: Todd Looney Orig: Vietnam Veteran's (143/27) San Jose CA You won't need a mess sergeant's steam tables to dish up these meals on a minutes notice; all the ingredients (except TABASCO brand pepper sauce) are included in your MRE packs. If you can get hold of your own personal supply of Tabasco, secure it with your gear for quick draw protection against chowline boredom! NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 62 11 November 1988 PARATROOPER PORK AND BEANS Don't take a dive on your next meal! Jump in with a hearty appetite to enjoy an old familiar favorite and let the others take a flying leap. Use plenty of Tabasco without reserve - it will lift you right off your feet! 1 pork patty 1 pouch beans in tomato sauce (from menu's 3,6, or 8) 1 envelope dehydrated catsup, optional TABASCO pepper sauce Rehydrate pork patty in hot water; crumble (grin) into warm beans. Sprinkle on catsup, if desired, and 2 to 3 spoons water from soaking pork patty. Add several dashes Tabasco and mix well. With Tabasco, the sky's the limit! COMBAT CANAPES Jazz up the chow line in the front lines! Try this simple but satisfying before-dinner treat. It'll give you a charge! Many flavors mix great with peanut butter. So, try it with bacon, if you can get it, or with pickle slices or chopped onions. If you find a few carrots around, boil 'em up, mash 'em, and mix 'em up with the peanut butter, adding a few drops of Tabasco for zest and you'll have a delicious side dish that will leave the others up in arms! EVER WONDER WHAT TO DO WITH THOSE HARD TACK CRACKERS? 4 spoons pineapple or applesauce. 1 envelope peanut butter (from menu 2,4,5,or 12) 1 envelope apple jelly (from menu 6,7, or 10) Crackers Combine pineapple or applesauce, peanut butter and jelly; mix well and spread on crackers for even more military might! ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 63 11 November 1988 Today's episode finds us rising bright eyed and bushy tailed from our NDP, scratching and pondering our first repast of the day. Hang in there, campers and we will get it all done. BOONIE BREAKFAST a la FRANCONIA (AND JUAREZ) INGREDIENTS: One can of C Ration Ham(chopped) and Eggs(scrambled?) One can of B-2 unit rubber cheese, any flavor (plain is best) Tabasco Jalapenos (if you can get them, otherwise Vietnamese Red peppers) Nouc Mam One can B-2 nut roll One packet of C Ration Cocoa Three packets of C Ration Creamer One packet of C Ration Coffee Three packets of C Ration Sugar One canteen of water (preferably without iodine tablets) One canteen cup Two 1cm squares of Composition C4 DIRECTIONS: See the recipe above for Trail Mocha and combine the ingredients for this gourmet treat. Next, open the can of ham and eggs. Carefully add about 1 to 2 teaspoons (C-rat spoons) of water down the sides of the ham and egg lump so that it will sink to the bottom of the can. This water is to prevent scorching when the can is heated. Next, open the can of rubberized cheese. Cut the congealed ham and eggs in a cross about half way through the chunk. Spread the cuts and insert wedges of the cheese. Dash the omelet liberally with tabasco. Now, insert jalapino or red pepper slices beside the cheese wedges. Dig the trench for your C-4 and set the can over the C- 4 and close the opened lid of the can. Light and allow to burn out. Allow the can to sit for a few minutes to warm all the way through from the steam generated by the C-4 heating the water in the can. Open the canned nut roll. Eat your omelet with the Trail Mocha and dunk the nut roll in the Mocha (it's the only way to get down this dry but good tasting roll). You will note that we have used several cans and several auxiliary C-ration items in this meal. This is a breakfast to eat early on an operation to get rid of all the weight of the cans and other bulky stuff (it's better than carrying it or leaving it for Charlie). OLE LIFERS NEVER DIE (THEY JUST SMELL THAT WAY) BASE CAMP BREAKFAST INGREDIENTS: One pound of ground beef (lean if you can get it) 1/4 cup of flour NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 64 11 November 1988 1/4 cup of oil 1 cup of milk one medium potato one onion salt, pepper, MSG, garlic powder, tabasco DIRECTIONS: Grate the potato and enough of the onion to add flavor to your hash browns. Fry the mixture of potato and onion in a skillet or on a grill. Use just enough oil to keep from sticking. Cook until golden brown on the outside. Drain the hashbrowns and put on a plate. Now, brown the hamburger breaking it into small pieces until each small piece is between gray and brown in color. Push the meat to one side of the skillet and drain the grease from the skillet. To the empty half of the skillet add the 1/4 cup of oil and 1/4 cup of flour. Brown the flour by stirring with the oil. When you have the flour browned, stir the oil/flower paste in with the hamburger. When you have these ingredients mixed together, add salt, pepper, MSG, garlic (lots of garlic so no-one can stand to be down wind of us) and tabasco to taste. After seasoning, add the cup of milk and stir until a white sauce forms in the browned meat. You may want to add more or less than a cup of milk to achieve the consistency of SOS you prefer. Spoon the SOS over the hashbrowns and chow down. SGT Bilko never had it so good. THE ALL-GOAT PARTY INGREDIENTS One goat with all standard equipment Various assorted vegies, condiments, and potables Other stuff DIRECTIONS It's party time down in Co Van ville again. Time for the advisor to go build rapport and prove his manhood. This time, kiddies, we're going to a goat party. Since we didn't really prepare the dishes, we will have to speculate on the technique and the contents in some cases. First, take the goat out in the back yard and kill him, saving all the good parts. Now, we have the wherewithal to prepare an interesting party. BARBEQUED GOAT Select portions of the roast and hams of the goat to prepare. Slice the meat into very thin slices just large enough to handle well with chopsticks when cooked. Make a marinade of Nouc Mam, soy sauce, sesame seed, garlic, MSG, oriental red peppers, and oil. Soak the goat meat for several hours before cooking. Cook the meat over a brazier basting with the marinade until done. Serve with garnish and oriental rice. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 65 11 November 1988 GOAT GUT STEW Select and clean the choicest inner parts of the goat. Chop into bite-size pieces. Select vegetables and cut into chop-stick size pieces. Season with nouc mam, peppers, salt and pepper, and oriental spices. Place the ingredients into a large pot, cover with water and cook over a low to medium fire for several hours until the meat is done. Garnish with local tree leaves and serve in rice bowls with china spoons. GOAT HEAD CHEESE SALAD This dish deserves no further introduction to an audience of tender young (?) ex-GI's. Here is the golden opportunity to make a confession to your host and counterpart. Simply explain that it is against your religion to partake of such dishes. If he should happen to ask your denomination you can explain that you are an orthodox gastronomic coward. POTABLES - GOAT BLOOD COCKTAIL You knew you were saving all the goat for some purpose. Take the blood you have collected and mix it with equal parts of vodka, gin, or what-ever other potable the advisor was able to get on his last trip to the Class VI store. Serve at ambient temperature. I understand that this drink has some part as a Co Van puberty rite. This drink is better after several shots of straight booze. Don't forget. Don't ever let them see you cringe. ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 66 11 November 1988 Taurus Doodie by Thom Patten I think CBS is to be commended for it's handling of Vietnam in it's highly touted and seldom watched series "Tour of Duty". Why, I had forgotten what a great sound track that war had! I'd all but blanked out the thrill of a combat assault done to the Stones "Paint it Black", not to mention how absolutely cool it was to be movin' thru the bush to Procol Harum's "A Whiter Shade of Pale". I knew that CBS had hit the mark when my 15 year old son watched one of the first episodes, leveled his eyes, looked right at me and said- "Duuuuude...." All seriousness aside though, I was checking this Tour of Duty thing out. It's perfect ... it's the war we always wanted. The time chosen was 1967. That's back when we were still kind'a serious about the war. I mean it's a good thing they avoided post-Tet 1968 when I was there. All those drugs and the attitude problems! Holy Cow! That's no way to portray the military. Good for you CBS...tell it like it should have been! Oh, and the language. Thanks for not allowing the actors to use all those dirty words that I heard when I was there. Y'know the whole thing was bad enough without all that filthy language. For goodness sakes, the things they used to say about peoples mothers...I mean sheeeesh! And thanks most of all for not showing the dirty, filthy, prickly-heat, immersion foot, day in and day out, hopeless mud and filth, splattered bodies, pieces- of-humans-beings-all-over-the-place, stinking, sweltering, no- win, die-for-nothing kind of existence that Vietnam was to so many young visitors. I realize that it's kind of hard to capture that type of effect on TV but believe me, you've avoided it magnificently. Last but not least, thanks for not showing the series during the past holiday season. As much as we wanted to, we couldn't stop the war during Christmas and I don't mind telling you, it was a bummer. Why, one of my dearest friends was killed on December 13, 1969 and I don't guess I have to tell you what a bummer that was. No sense in bringing everyone down by rubbing their noses in the reality of war. Heck, if we're not careful about how we portray war, people might get the wrong idea and not show up for the next one! So thanks CBS. Thank you for giving us Vietnam in a way so reminiscent of the old Combat series. Thanks for making Vietnam more palatable and for cleaning up that stinking little war so that children of this generation can grow up with the same realistic perceptions of war that our generation grew up with. That is what your doing CBS, isn't it? *Isn't it?* ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 67 11 November 1988 A Walk Through The Years Step by step, visitors to the Wall can retrace the terrible loss of the Vietnam War through the names of those slain. By Sean Smith (INCOMING Staff writers Mary Hurley and Denise Wheeler also contributed to this story) (Input by VETLink #1 with permission from INCOMING Editor: Dennis Hytti - Chairman Vietnam Veterans Benevolent Association, Inc.) Tears and silence unite those who face the Wall. Veterans stand and weep for dead friends, wives weep for lost husbands, and parents weep for children taken from them. But, even the merely curious often find themselves crying when they look at the start inscriptions on the Wall. It is as if there is an unseen force blanketing the area, one that mutes conversation and churns the emotions into an out-pouring of grief and disbelief. Officially, it is called the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, but it has become known simply as "the Wall." This V-shaped, nearly 500-foot-long structure rests between the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument in Washington, D.C. It is a controversial legacy of a time of controversy. In the five-and- a-half years since its opening, the reactions of those who visit the site have become a familiar yet compelling fixture in the media: other veterans, relatives, friends, even people with little connection to the war seem transfixed by the Wall, running their hands over the smooth, polished black granite panels containing the names of 58,022 Americans killed in Vietnam. And many of them weep. It is easy to understand why veterans are affected so powerfully by the Wall. But, no one can truly explain how and why the Wall appears to stun so many non-veterans -- including children -- who view it. Across the Potomac River from the Wall is the dramatic and heroic Iwo Jima Memorial commemorating the U.S. Marine Corps' World War II casualties, but that memorial does not leave tourists, children and non-veterans in tears. Some west suburban residents who have made the pilgrimage to the Wall suggest that the memorial brings together all the conflicting, unresolved emotions left from the Vietnam War era. When you face the Wall, these residents say, powerful emotions suddenly erupt. The experience is at once deeply personal, yet shared by so man others that your experiences become a litany. "It has an impact on anyone," says John Hannan, National Park Service supervisor for the monument. "You can see the names, but, at the same time, you see your reflection on the Wall. You can see a little of you in there. Someone has said that at least one out of every 10 people were touched in some way by a person whose name is on that wall. They were a relative, a loved one, somebody from your school, your neighborhood, your hometown..." This Memorial Day will be the fifth one the Wall -- dedicated in NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 68 11 November 1988 November of 1982 -- has seen. It is a day when the number of visitors to the Wall will increase well beyond its daily average of 8,000. First-time visitors are struck not only by the emotional enormity of the Wall, but by its physical size as well. "There's a number associated with it: 58,000," explains Framingham veteran Dick Haggerty. "But you don't know what that number means, you don't put it into perspective until you walk past those 58,000 -- and you realize that for every one, there are probably 10 or 20 others unspoken for." "It's just the names sitting right out there in front, and you say, 'My God," says Clyde Waite, a former Natick resident who has been has been assisting and counseling fellow Vietnam vets for several years. "even if someone was an activist who demonstrated against the war, that person will begin to think that perhaps they have more in common with the vets than they might have thought." Sue Anderson visited the memorial in November, 1986, with her husband Abby, a Vietnam veteran. Before the visit, she was more concerned about her Abby's reaction to the Wall and she took a friend for support. "I didn't really know what to expect," she recalls. But she was taken aback at the intensity of her own emotions. The Wall does that to people, and Anderson is not sure why. "I think I was worse than he was," she notes. "It was unbelievable. When you first see it, it is overwhelming, even if you weren't in Vietnam. You just feel it is all a part of you. I don't really know how to explain it. It is very emotional." The memorial is a place to remember, and to weep. "It does something to you inside when you see it. Even if you don't know anyone in there, I guarantee it, you will cry. It's just that moving. But I don't know why." Like many who gathered at the memorial, she searched for names of friends and etched their names, which has become a common practice there, Anderson reports. Looking for one name in particular evinced contradictory emotions, which is also not unusual at the Wall. She found the name of the MIA inscribed on her MIA/POW bracelet. "When I saw that name it bothered me more than anything," she says. "But I felt relieved too; I felt very close." Anderson was also moved by the design of the Wall itself. "The way it is structured, when you are looking at the Wall, you see yourself, your reflection. That's what I think is so moving," she says. "Yes, it is eerie. It's beautiful. You have to be there to understand." Sue and Abby, who live in Framingham, travelled to Washington to observe special Veteran's Day services at the Wall. On her first visit, she remembers the sunshine and the sun's reflection on the NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 69 11 November 1988 Wall. The next day, Veteran's Day, they stood in a downpour with a "ton of people" to watch the ceremonies. "You couldn't get close to it, there were so many people." It had been the idea of a woman from Virginia to fashion a flag made of red, white and blue flowers. Volunteers worked throughout the night to finish the flag. As the wife of a Vietnam veteran, visiting the Wall was a catharsis, and provided a dimension that had been missing. "I felt relieved by seeing it, I understood a lot more. I had read things, and talked to people, but this gave me a peace of mind," says Anderson, 40, who has known Abby since she was 13. During his tour of duty in Vietnam, she wrote letters and sent packages. But it was a part of his life that she could not share - until she visited the Wall. "I was married to a Vietnam veteran who did not open up for so long. This was part of his life I was missing," she says. Upon visiting the Wall, "I just felt like I was part of it now." Sue noticed many families at the memorial, as well as busloads of school children on a field trip. She remembers how wide their eyes grew when they saw the Wall. "They looked emotionally dumbfounded." she says. "The Wall was so massive. The teacher was explaining things to them. You could see some of the children's eyes watering. I don't care how young or how old, it's just a moving experience." "Hopefully, if they are old enough, they will understand why some of the veterans are like they are, what they did for their country. Hopefully, it will give them an insight on what war is all about," she says. "I know my own children, it's been difficult for them," notes Anderson. "My daughter, who is in high school wears an MIA/POW bracelet and some people don't even know what Vietnam was. They will ask her, "Why do you wear that?' I think that's a shame." Unless there has been some personal involvement, she says, people don't talk about it. "Maybe the Wall can educate them." Anderson observed the impact on the veterans, too. "I think at last they are at peace in one way with themselves. For a lot of them, this has helped them talk about it. It has helped them a lot, mentally and emotionally." When visiting the memorial, "my heart went out to them and the friends they lost," she says. The Wall, she notes, is unlike any other war memorial. "This was not like any other war -- it was not even a declared war and we lost all those people. Other men in other wars were greeted with open arms when they came back. A log of people are looking at this as their homecoming. They didn't get what they deserved. It makes you think, this is for you, this is your homecoming." There are a couple of maxims among Vietnam vets about facing the NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 70 11 November 1988 Wall: you go when you're "ready," and you don't go alone. About 15,000 showed up at the monument's dedication in 1982, but others waited a year or two, or more, before going -- some intend to wait even longer than that. Clyde Waite didn't feel ready until November of 1985. He had been gratified when the monument became a reality, but, like many of his colleagues, he was unsure what would happen when he stood in front of the 58,022 names. While visiting a relative in Virginia with his five-year-old Clyde II, however, Waite decided they would take a trip to see the sights in Washington -- and stop at the Wall. The day was dreary, overcast, drizzly and cool, and the two Waites walked around the Mall -- "Clyde really wanted to see the Lincoln Memorial," Waite recalls -- before heading to the Wall. Young Clyde knew they were going there, Waite says, and sensed it was somehow important, especially when he felt his father become tense. As they came within sight of the Wall, his five-year-old sense of wonder and curiosity came to the fore. "As we got closer, he asked me if all the people on the Wall were dead," says Waite, his mild-mannered, gentle voice halting as he recounts the event. "I told him 'Yeah.' He became very quiet." Waite could see young Clyde was unsettled by the place. "Normally, he would have loved to go off exploring, look around," Waite explains. "But here he was holding onto my leg and squeezing it." Waite himself recalls feeling "anger" at first, the Wall representing for him a symbol of tremendous sacrifice with little gain. During the hour they were there, he looked through the directory to the names on the monument, mostly "to see if I would recognize anyone" and walked slowly along its facade. At last, Waite says, his anger turned "to tears." The two of them spent the rest of that day at the Washington Zoo. Waite was only half-aware of the surroundings, though; in his mind, he sorted through faces, sights, sounds and whatever else he could summon up about his 1967-68 stint in Vietnam. "It was just a quiet day," Waite declares. Waite has been back four more times since then, and brought back his son for one of the return trips. Young Clyde still doesn't understand completely about what the Wall means, Waite says, but he is beginning to -- at least as much as anyone else. One of the more compelling aspects of the Wall is the staggering amount of artifacts, mementos and memorabilia that relatives, friends and other veterans have left beside it. John Hannan of the Park Service estimates that 5,000 items have been collected by the monument staff personnel since the November 1982 dedication. "Mostly, it's photos, letters and cards," he says. "But people also leave little Christmas trees, miniature tiger cages (to publicize the POW's and MIA's some believe remain in Vietnam) and veterans will leave boots, uniforms and medals -- and some pretty heavy duty medals, too, like Purple Hearts." Hannan says he has seen so much of this in the past year he doesn't regard anything NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 71 11 November 1988 left "as particularly unusual." Hannan says the National Park Service tags all the items and stores them in a warehouse. It is possible, he says, that a portion of the collection may be open to the public sometime in the future. There have been special, heartfelt tributes, like one mother who writes a letter to her dead son every major holiday and leaves it at the Wall. During one visit, Framingham resident Sue Anderson was shocked to see a wedding ring that had been affixed to a card and placed in between one of the panels. There have also been some more disquieting items -- Anderson's husband Abby, a former Marine, discovered a poem full of rage, bitterness and guilt (it ended "I wish my name was up here on the Wall.") apparently written by a Vietnam veteran. Anderson hopes the man -- who signed the poem "Huey" -- will find someone to talk to, and work out those feelings; otherwise, he is liable to become just one more victim. Bob Ferrarini, who served in the same unit as Anderson, elected not to observe one of the dictums about visiting the Wall when he traveled from Framingham to Washington in 1985. Ferrarini went by himself -- no family, no friends. "I decided it was what I wanted to do," Ferrarini says. "I felt I needed to be alone with my memories." Ferrarini chose Memorial Day -- May 29 of that year -- as the day to visit, a glorious pre-summer day when Washington's famous cherry blossoms were in full glory. But something made him hold back and, instead, he spent about four hours walking around the city. It was just about dusk when he approached the site, the last traces of sunlight enveloping the Washington Monument. "I had heard about all the controversy with the memorial," says Ferrarini, referring to criticism -- some of it from Vietnam veterans -- that the Wall was an inappropriate monument at best, a disgraceful symbol at best. "But I looked at it, and I thought it was beautiful." He reached the ropes where the walkway by the Wall starts, and he began to weep. "Initially, I felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness, then, as if a great weight had been lifted," Ferrarini says. "The Wall is a culmination of so many things unsaid, undone and unrewarded." Ferrarini scanned the panels, but did not focus on any of the names. His inner "defense mechanism," he feels, did not permit him to remember any of them. "The human mind is wonderful," he says. "It locks out what you can't deal with emotionally." Ferrarini has been to the Wall three more times, and says it is indicative of his desire to come to terms with his Vietnam experiences. "For 20 years, I didn't want to do anything, I didn't want to see anything," he says. "Then, I wanted to do it all... It (going to the Wall) is a wonderful catharsis, but I NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 72 11 November 1988 don't encourage (veterans) to go alone." As for non-veterans, Ferrarini says there is an important message for them at the Wall, too. "It will teach you that freedom isn't free -- it costs a great deal," he says. Dick Haggerty long felt -- and still feels, he acknowledges -- a special kind of ambivalence over his links to Vietnam. Although he is a Vietnam-era veteran, Haggerty left the service in 1964, before the war heated up in Southeast Asia, and did not see any combat action there. His three trips to the Wall have helped him deal with a sadness born of a partial kinship: those who are on the Wall are his comrades, but they are not peers. "It was just so big," says Haggerty of his first visit, in the summer of 1983. "So many guys were lost, and they were all kids. I was older when I served. They never did the stuff I had a chance to, like hang around on beaches, when I was their age... I can't tell you how choked up I was." When the memorial opened, Haggerty felt he wanted to "pay my respects, to say 'Thank you'" to the soldiers who went on after him. What he found so moving was the cumulative effect of reading the Wall's chronological listing of names (the names are listed in the order of the day they died). "You start off on one side, and there are just a couple of names under '1959,'" Haggerty explains. "But, as you walk down it through the years you can see the escalation. You hit 1967 and 1968, and you can see how the country was losing its youth." As he walked along the Wall, Haggerty could not help but gaze at the other visitors, and that was moving, too. "You would look in the eyes of the other people, and you'd nod," he says. "They would nod, too, as if to say 'I understand. No matter who you were, why you are here, I understand.'" Haggerty's subsequent trips to the Wall have provided additional focus in helping him better understand his complex feelings about Vietnam. He and Abby Anderson are active in veterans' issues, and provide support for each other: Haggerty, for example, offered to accompany Anderson on his first visit to the Wall, in 1985; Anderson, for his part, is encouraging Haggerty not to feel apologetic about missing out on Vietnam. Her husband's reflection was frozen still in the black granite. The name of a dead comrade of his pierced the image. He lifted his hand and ran his thumb across the rough surface of the engraved letters while she wept. Maureen Johan had sat home while her husband, Roy, then her fiancee, fought in the Vietnam War. She had pored over the papers and watched the news nightly, looking for his name or his image -- and all the while afraid she might find them. She had seen the death toll when it was all over. But Johan said she never realized how staggering the number of lost lives was until NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 73 11 November 1988 she saw the Wall. Dusk was settling over the park when this family from Wellesley first visited the memorial in 1983. The summer's heat beat off the dark panels. She felt dwarfed by the 10-foot Wall and was saddened by the monotonous listing of name after name. All she could think was, "Oh my God. I don't know who was right or who was wrong, but as a mother and a wife, all I can say is that war was such a waste. What a waste," she remembers. The park around her was hushed. The somberness made Johan feel like she was in a church. Even her nine-year-old daughter Nicole, who knew little about the war, fell silent. The only sound Johan remembered hearing was the sobs of other bystanders. "The starkness and the sheer size of it alone is enough to move you," she said. "But then you realize how many people suffered. Not just veterans, but their entire families." Johan said she has visited the Vietnam Veterans War Memorial five times. And five times she has been driven to tears. "It never loses its emotional potency. I don't think anyone can go to the memorial without being touched." As Johan's husband, Roy, sought the names of friends he'd lost in the war, she read some of the letters mothers had written to their sons, or that wives had written to their husbands. "They break your heart," Johan says. "There is this whole feeling of sadness there that is overwhelming." NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 74 11 November 1988 The Johans' daughter's interest in the war was sparked by the visit. On the way home from the memorial, she quizzed her father, curious about a war that left wounds so deep that they still stung a decade later. What she learned will be learned time and again by the children, her mother believes. "The Wall brings history alive," says Johan. During those haunting moments, the war and the feelings it roused were made tangible. "The Lincoln Memorial is incredible. Jefferson's is awesome. But they are so far removed from our lives." ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 75 11 November 1988 from the VVA VETERAN August 1984 electronically reprinted for my brother, Todd THE WALL WITHIN By Steve Mason VVA Post Laureate 1964 - 1975 - 76 77 - 78 - 79 -80 - 81 82 - 83 - 84 - THIS WALL IS DEDICATED TO Mothers * Fathers * Sisters * Brothers * Wives * Husbands * Sons * Daughters * Lovers * Friends * And Most of All Dreams of the Men and Women Who Risked It All In Vietnam While You Continued To Lose Them During and After The War With Less A Chance Then They For A Parade and No Chance At All For An Explanation You lost them to: bullets, internment, drugs, suicide, alcohol, jail, PTS, divorce, but never never did any of you ever lose them to the truth which is now being shared across this great nation in such an act of spontaneous moral courage, its like may never have been seen on any battlefield in the history of mankind . . . (Delivered at Old Town, San Diego on Memorial Day 1984) Most real men hanging tough in their early forties would like the rest of us to think they could really handle one more war and two more women. But I know better. You have no more lies to tell. I have no more dreams to believe. I have seen it in your face I am sure you have noticed itin mine; that thousand-yard stare that does not look out - it looks in - at the unutterable, unalterable truth of our war. The eye sees what the mind believes. And all that I know of war, all that I have heard of peace, has me looking over my shoulder for that one bullet which still has my name on it - circling round and round the globe waiting and circling circling and waiting until I break from cover NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 76 11 November 1988 and it takes its best, last shot. In the absence of Time, the accuracy of guilt is assured. It is a cosmic marksman. Since Vietnam, I have run a zig zag course across the open-fields of America taking refuge in the inner cities. From MacArthur Park to Washington Square from Centennial Park to DuPont Circle, on the grassy, urban knolls of America I have seen an army of combat veterans hidden among the trees. Veterans of all our recent wars. Each a part of the best of his generation. Waiting in his teeth for peace. They do not lurk there on the backs of park benches drooling into their socks above the remote, turtled backs of chessplayers playing soldiers. They do not perch upon the gutter's lip of midnight fountains and noontime wishing wells like surrealistic gargoyles guarding the coins and simple wishes of young lovers. No. I have seen them in the quiet dignity of their aloneness. Singly, in the confidence of their own perspective. And always at the edges of the clearing. Patrolling like perimeter guards, or observing as primitive gods, each in his own way looks out to the park that he might "see" in to the truth. Some, like me enjoy the comfortable base of a friendly tree that we might cock one eye to the center of the park toward the rearing bronze horsemen of other wars who would lead us backwards to glory. Daily, they are fragged by a platoon of disgruntled pigeons saying it best for all of us. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 77 11 November 1988 And with the other eye, we read the poetry of AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL as she combs her noontime hair and eats precise shrimp sandwiches and salad Nicoise catered by Tupperware - and never leaves a single crumb. No wonder America is the only country in the world which doesn't smell like food. ...and I remember you and me picnicking at the side of the Ho Chi Minh Trail in the rain eating the Limas and Ham from the can sitting easy in our youth and our strength driving hard bargains with each other for the C-ration goodies we unwrapped like Christmas presents. Somehow it really seemed to matter what he got versus what you got. It wasn't easy trading cheese and crackers for chocolate-covered peanut butter cookies! And the pound cake - Forget about it! I knew a guy would cut a hole in it and pretend it was a doughnut. For six months I watched that and refused to ask him about it. I did finally. And you guessed it. He hated pound cake. And remember the water biscuit that came in its own tin? - I think they had the moxie to call it a cookie - it came with the marmalade and was made by that outfit in Chicago we promised to burn to the ground someday. Damn, how did your buddy, the animal, ever eat that crap? Then, we'd happily wash down the whole mess with freckly-faced strawberry kool-aid straight from the canteen; some days there'd be goofy grape (anything to keep from choking on the taste of purified water). Bleck. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 78 11 November 1988 But somehow I sensed all the while that I'd never be able to forgive myself for enjoying your company so much or being so good at the game we played. We were the best - You & I. In our parks, there are whole other armies of veterans mostly young and mostly old but always ageless who are not alone. They share with their families and their friends these open-aired above-ground time capsules of our national culture. They read aloud to themselves and their children from the plaques and statues, monuments and markers those one-line truths of our common experience as if there could be a real significance in words like Love and Hate tattooed on the clenched, granite fists of America. Sometimes, when I am angry it seems as if I could start my own country with the same twenty Spill and Spell words we shake out at the feet of our heroes like some crone spreading her hands over the runes prior to a mystic reading Words like: peace and sacrifice, war and young, supreme and duty, service and honor, country, nation, men and men and men again, sometimes God and don't forget women! Army, Air Force, Navy, Marines and freedom. Then, just as quickly, the anger passes and reverence takes its place. Those are good words, noble words, solemn & sincere. It is the language of Death which frightens me; it is unearthly to speak life concepts over the dead. Death is inarticulately final, refusing forever to negotiate. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 79 11 November 1988 That, and the awesome responsibility we place eternally on our fallen teenage sons, seems unbearably heavy against the lengthening, prancing shadows of Sunday's frisbees. Apparently, there is no period which can be placed after sacrifice. All life is struggle. An act of natural balance and indomitable courage. As it is with man so it is with mankind. If we permit Memorial Day to come to us every day, we ignore the concept of sacrifice and dilute its purpose. When we do that we incur the responsibility to effect change. If we are successful, the sacrifice has renewed meaning. It seems there is no alternative to life. But there may be to war... The values of our society seem to be distributed in our parks and reflected in the eyes of veterans who look there for validation and find only confusion and sadness. Strange, I have observed no monuments to survivors. No obelisk to mark the conflict of those who risked and lived perhaps to fight again or perhaps to speak of peace. Nowhere, yet, a wall for the living. There is no wonder guilt is the sole survivor of war. We do not celebrate life after combat because our concept of glory lives neither in victory nor in peace but in Death. There are plaques at the doorsteps of skyscrapers; in New York on 10th and the Avenue of the Americas it reads: IN MEMORY OF THOSE FROM GREENWICH VILLAGE WHO MADE THE SUPREME SACRIFICE IN THE KOREAN CONFLICT 1950 - 1953 NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 80 11 November 1988 In Nashville's Centennial Park in a shaded wood to one side of the Parthenon built to scale and to the glory which was Greece, a small statue stands; it is inscribed: I GAVE MY BEST TO MAKE A BETTER WORLD 1917 - 1918 I stood there one fall ankle deep in leaves and looked up at the night sky through a hole in a ceiling of trees wondering how much better the world might look from up there. From the moon only one manmade object can be viewed by the naked eye; The Great Wall of China (a tribute to man's functional paranoia) It's a peculiar perspective because we're a lot closer and the only manmade object We can see is THE Wall in Washington, D.C. (a veteran's solemn pledge to remember) There is one other wall, of course One we never speak of. One we never see, One which separates memory from madness. In a place no one offers flowers. THE WALL WITHIN. We permit no visitors. Mine looks like any of a million nameless, brick walls - it stands in the tear-down ghetto of my soul; that part of me which reason avoids for fear of dirtying its clothes and from atop which my sorrow and my rage hurl bottles and invectives at the rolled up windows of my passing youth. Do you know the wall I mean? I learned of mine that night in the rain when I spoke at the Memorial in Washington. We all noticed how the wall ran like tears and every man's name we found on the polished, black granite face seemed to have our eyes staring back at us; crying. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 81 11 November 1988 It was haunting. Later I would realize I had caught my first glimpse of the Wall Within. And those tears were real. You and I do not walk about the Wall Within like Hamlet on the battlements. No one with our savvy would expose himself like that, especially to a frightened, angry man. Suicide loiters in our subconscious and bears a grudge; an assassin on hashish. We must be wary. No. We sit there legless in our immobility rolling precariously in our self-pity Like ugly Humpty Dumpties. With disdain even for the King's horses as we lean over the ledge to write upside down with chalk, bleached white with our truth the names of all the other casualties of the Vietnam War (our loved ones) the ones the Pentagon didn't put in uniform but died anyway. Some because they stopped being who they always were just as truly as if they'd found another way to breathe. Others, because they did die - honest-to-God casualties of the Vietnam War because they lost the will to breathe at all. My mother gave her first recital at Carnegie Hall at age eleven. Sometimes, when I was a boy I'd watch her play the piano and wonder if God, after all, was not a woman. One evening when I was in the bush she turned on the 6:00 news and died of a heart attack. My mother's name is on the Wall Within. You starting to get the idea? Our lists may be different but shoulder to shoulder if we could find the right flat cloud on a perfect, black night we could project our images upon a god-sized drive-in theatre wide enough to race Ben Hur across for a thousand years ... Because the Wall Within adds up the true cost of war ... NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 82 11 November 1988 We can receive 58,012 in our sleep even the day after they update it, but how many of those KIA had kids? How many of them got nice step-dads? Whose wall do they go on? And what about you vets who came home to your wife and kids only to divorce her because there wasn't anybody else to be angry at? How many dimes have you long-distance fathers dropped into the slot to hear how another man was raising your children? Yeah, Yeah, I can hear you hollerin', "Put it on the wall! Put it on the wall!" Damn right, it's on the wall... And you remember how that came down? You told the three-year-old his daddy loved him and his mommy loved him and nothing would ever change that. But it did anyway. But not because you didn't love him enough, but because you loved him too much to be a part-time daddy, and you couldn't explain that to him because you couldn't explain it to you. What the hell? I mean who were you, Spinoza? You came home a twenty-two-year-old machine gunner for chrissake, you did the best you could. PUT IT ON THE WALL!!! And somewhere, in an art gallery, maybe, is a portrait of American Grieving Parenthood; handholding, Rockwellian caricatures of wisdom and forebearance and oh yes, pride sitting on the front porch of the township waving their lemonades at the Greyhound bus driver, Baloney. The names go UP! Because every time you can't find Mom, you damned well better call Doc Smith 'cause she's up on the second floor again sitting on the floor in Johnny's closet smelling his Varsity sweater with the sleeves around her shoulders sobbing something maybe only Johnny ever understood. NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 83 11 November 1988 But don't worry about dad, who never fished again, or watched a ballgame on TV again and won't talk to anyone this year between the ages of thirty or forty. He's doing fine. He just doesn't exercise as much as he should, but Doc Smith assures us there's no medical reason why the folks should have separate bedrooms; Dad just likes to read a lot these days. If you and I were men of common conscience we might agree on a collective dedication to our Walls Within. As for me they could all read: This wall is dedicated to mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, wives, husbands, sons, daughters, lovers, friends and most of all dreams of the men and women who risked it all in Vietnam while you continued to lose them during and after the war with less a chance then they for a parade and no chance at all for an explanation. You lost them to bullets, internment, drugs, suicide, alcohol, jail, PTS, Divorce, but never never did any of you ever lose them to the truth which is now being shared across this great nation in such an act of spontaneous moral courage, its like may never have been seen on any battlefield in the history of mankind... Amen to that, brother. Steve Mason, Executive Suite, 1855 East Valley Parkway, Escondido, CA 92027. Telephone: (619)743-2206. ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 84 11 November 1988 ================================================================= WANTED ================================================================= By: Alex Humphrey If you would like a rubbing taken of the name of a relative, friend or loved one from the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington DC, you can get it done by writing: Friends of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, Inc. 4200 Wisconsin Avenue NW Suite 106-108 Washington DC 20016 Attention: Name Rubbing ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 85 11 November 1988 NAM VET NEWSLETTER SUBSCRIPTION FORM The Nam Vet Newsletter is a nonprofit publication available free of charge to anyone wishing to have a copy. It can be obtained in electronic computer format by anyone having access to a computer and modem by dialing up any of the IVVEC hosting bulletin board systems listed in this issue of the Nam Vet. It can also be mailed to you in printed format if you are willing to pay the $1.67 cost for postage and the mailing envelope. If you desire to have the Nam Vet mailed to you in printed format, please complete the subscription form below, clip it out, and mail it to: Nam Vet Newsletter Vietnam Veterans Valhalla 28 Cecil Avenue San Jose, California 95128 If you send your payment in check or money order, please make it payable to Todd Looney. NAME_____________________________________________________________ STREET ADDRESS __________________________________________________ CITY/STATE/ZIP __________________________________________________ AMOUNT ENCLOSED ($1.67 per month desired) _______________________ If this subscription is for someone else, to whom shall we credit the gift? ______________________________________ ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 86 11 November 1988 *Some Gave All... Others Still Give O O SOME GAVE ALL ... ! pow mia pow mia - BRING THEM HOME NOW! - pow mia pow mia ! ! O O ! ! ~~~~~ ~ ~ O~ ~~~ ~~ ~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~ O ~~ ~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~ ! ! ~~~~ ~ ~~ O ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~ ~O~~~ ~~~ ~ ~~~~ ~~ ! ! ~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~ O~ ~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~ O ~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~ ! ! ~~~ ~~ ~~ ~ O ~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~ O ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~ ~ ! ! ~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~ ~ O ~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ O ~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~ ! ! ~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~ O ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~ O ~ ~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~ ! ! ~ ~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~ O ~_~_~_~_~_ ~ O ~ ~~~~ ~ ~ ~~~ ~~ ~~ ! ! ~~~ ~ ~ ~~~ ~~ ~ O ) O ~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~~ ! ! ~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ /(O) / O \ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~~ ~ ~ ! ! ~ ~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~ / / O \~~~~ ~~ ~~~~~ ~~~ ~~ ~ ! ! ~~ ~ ~ ~~ ~~ / PRISONER / \~~ ~~ ~~ ~~~ ~ ~~~~~~ ! ! ~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~ / / MISSING \~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~~ ~ ~~ ! ! ~~~ ~ ~~ ~~ / OF /\ \~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~ ! ! ~ ~~~~ ~~ ~ / / \ IN \~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~~ ! ! ~~~ ~~~ ~ / WAR / ~~ \ \ ~~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ! ! ~ ~~ ~~ ~ (_________ / ~ ~~ \ ACTION / ~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~ ! ! ~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ \ / ~~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ! ! ~~~~~ ~~ ~~~~~~~ ~~~ ~~ ~ ~~~ \ / ~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~~ ! ! ~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~~~~~ ! ! ~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~ ~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ ~ ! ! ~ ~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ! ! ~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~ ~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~ SOME STILL GIVE ! ~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ! ~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~ ~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ! ! mia pow mia pow - BRING THEM HOME NOW! - mia pow mia pow ! ----------------------------------------------------------------- If you love freedom... Thank a Vet !!! ----------------------------------------------------------------- NamNews SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 87 11 November 1988