
Thirty-five years ago today, I was an about-to-graduate high school senior. State wrestling champ, All-state football player, with a scholarship offer from the University of Missouri. Ready to move on to the next phase.
I walked down the stairs to where my bedroom was, turned left, and the Auld Soldier was sitting on the couch, watching TV. He was four months away from retiring after 27 years, two wars, a Silver Star, BSM w/v, and seven Purple Hearts.
He never noticed me.
He was watching the news.
He was watching the fall of Saigon, streaming into the family room.
I just went to the couch, sat next to him, and took his hand and we watched. I've only one other time seen that look on his face. The morning Mom died. The ghosts in the room watched with us.
For many of our readers, the Vietnam War is an item from the history books. For others, like me, it's a life event experienced at one degree of separation, others, at a greater remove.
And for a not insignificant number of us - zero degrees of separation. Callow youth became grizzled vets well before their 21st birthday.
It is that group I honor today. The ones among us who went there and have that t-shirt and polished the car with it many many times.
You did your best with what you had. The failure lies rather farther up the chain.
Perhaps as important - many of you made it your passion to insure that the newest group of grizzled vets didn't come home from their war to the same reception you got returning from yours. And as many if not more of you have spent many long hours, days, months, years and dollars taking care of your brothers and sisters who didn't come all the way home. Taking care of those the nation would rather have forgotten.
I've read Frances FitzGerald's paean to the Viet Cong, Fire in the Lake. I still have the Auld Soldier's copy. During the Fall of Saigon, she was interviewed for the Union College student newspaper.
FitzGerald won the Pulitzer Prize for her passionate embrace of the oppressed peasants simply striving for a better life free of imperialist hegemony, who apparently wanted nothing more than to establish a anarcho-syndicalist commune and take it upon themselves to take turns acting as a sort of executive officer for the week. She confidently predicted that the new, enlightened rulers of Vietnam would soon have free, multi-party elections.
How'd that work out for you, Ms. FitzGerald?
I'm not here to debate the ups and downs and rights and wrongs.
I'm here to honor those among who went and came back.
And, those who didn't. The ghosts on our shoulders. I have a few ghosts from that era too. This one's for you, too, Dad.
Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam of the fallen of Vietnam. And those who have since gone down the road to meet their buddies at Fiddler's Green.
Update: Jonn Lilyea and Jules Crittenden remember.
I can only nod in agreement, John.
Hooah to those warriors, present and past
This Aritcle takes me back to that same day when I too sat and watched the Fall of Saigon and South Vietnam. Still fresh in my memory the two tours and the many lost friends, here in the morning and simple gone later that day. No goodbyes or fairwells, just Continue the Mission.
Yes I remember well.
Just wanted you to know you won't be lonely when you get there.
At one point during their escape, the family became separated and were on two separate boats. The family members on the other boat were all killed. His boat escaped.
He is an ordinary person with an extraordinary story to tell. To sum it up, he witnessed firsthand the compassion and professionalism of the US Navy, which rescued him from certain death.
During the long midwatches, he was always positive and cheerful no matter how bad conditions were. He truly loves this country and is proud to wear the uniform.
It eventually occurred to me that this outstanding sailor is living testament to the devotion and valor of our brothers and sisters who served in Southeast Asia during the Vietnam War.
Thanks to the Auld Man and all who served before us.
91B20
82nd. Airborne
Salute!
Well done, John.
I have since developed a slightly guilty conscience for not having gone, but Chief Bill has said that he forgives me, which will have to do.
On later thought, and on reading Jerry Pournelle, I am convinced that we really did have the thing won and Congress threw it away, betraying the trust of lots of folks abroad and at home.
We the vets were treated like dirt or at the very least people were very cold to us. It was though we had a contagious disease. That is why I send boxes to A-stan and Iraq. No veteran should ever again have to through what we did. Shame on you America!
Even then, I held a passion for history, but it took a fair number of years before I gained a better grasp of what happened. Just recently an episode of Pajamasmedia Trifecta -while discussing health care "reform"- coined the phrase "where was the media?" One could ask the same thing of the Vietnam era.
Later (again, like JTG) after following Jerry Pournelle for a while I began to grasp what really happened, as opposed to the official version of what happened.
Godspeed to those men (and few women). Today we even have folks like John Voight stand forth, fighting the Common Wisdom.
JTG, thanks for the reminder; I also spilled a libation, even if it was only a beer {sheepish look}.
harp1034, and BillT, and the Auld Soldier, and all of you of the Old Breed; thank you for your service, and may God bless you..
At least they cheered my Son at the airport when he came back from Iraq. Somehow that does seem like some kind of vindication.
Our military was harmed greatly by the betrayals then, and continued to be harmed by those betrayals, even today. You can see it in our military's overly cautious ROEs, its knee jerk defensiveness in PR and its subtle acknowledgment that the betrayers on the home-front are potentially every bit as lethal to the US military as are the foreign enemy currently engaged in the fight.
When I was coming back from some tough months in Al Anbar, we got to Maine about 0230 local time. There were several hundred people in the terminal, there to shake hands and thank us for our service and our sacrifice. I had tears in my eyes, not for us and our welcome. I was grateful and still am, no question. But the thought that moved me so profoundly was how much this would have meant to so many thousands of Vietnam Veterans whose suffering and sacrifice was scorned and belittled.
I got a hug from a Khe Sanh Marine, and told him "I wish I'd been old enough to do this for you". All he could say was "I HAD to be here."
So, to you as well, I wish I'd been old enough to do for you what your warriors did for your son.
Many of you try to talk about talking to 'Nam Vets, it must be their choice. Many of the guys and GALS from 'Nam want the respect to go to Today's Military at War. 'Nam is history, signed, sealed and delivered, you can never rewrite the history.
To the whole motley crew at the Castle, even King John, all the regulars and even Sakar, who proved herself to be extremely gracious with a couple of *Old Vets*. John provided a playroom, for us, probably padded.
Grumpy
HH