Veteran's Day

Many Vietnam veterans have mixed feelings about Veterans Day – you can count me as one of them. I was proud to serve in Vietnam, but it seemed that many of my countrymen at home hated me for it. I make no bones about my service in Vietnam. We fought in defense of freedom – freedom in Vietnam, in America, and everywhere people yearn to be free. Like all the veterans before and after us, we answered our country’s call, and, in Vietnam, we acquitted ourselves splendidly. We won every battle, and, by any military measure, we soundly defeated our enemy on the field of battle. (That’s why I went to war. I fought the war for much more personal reasons: my comrades in the air and on the ground.)

In any case, during the 1960’s and 70’s, hardly anyone was interested in our opinions about the war. The anti-war protestors held the stage and theirs was the predominant voice heard in America. The anti-war crowd portrayed America as an imperialistic oppressor of the Vietnamese people and American servicemen as lackeys blindly doing the will of a power hungry pentagon and greedy industrialists. And the anti-war crowd had plenty of support from Hollywood, television, magazines, newspapers, and the evening news, all reciting the same story: America had no right to intervene in Vietnam; America was responsible for the death of countless thousands of innocent Vietnamese people; the South Vietnamese hated us and wanted us to go back home; we were losing the war to a superior North Vietnamese Army and the Viet Cong; and, worst of all, American troops were dying in vain for a worthless cause. What a pile of BS - recalling that hogwash still makes me sick to my stomach. Hear this, America: the North Vietnamese and the Viet Cong did not beat us – it was our own politicians, media, and anti-war protestors that lost the war. If you tell a lie loud enough and long enough, people will believe you, and America fell for the lie.

Consequently, when our troops came home, we were greeted with boos, catcalls, derision, and even people spitting on us. We were called baby killers, murderers, warmongers, cowards, and every other vile epithet the protestors could muster up. It broke our hearts, but it seemed there was little we could do to change the prevailing anti-war, anti-military sentiment in America. So, we swallowed our pride, packed away our uniforms, grew our hair out, went back to school, got jobs or started businesses, worked hard and supported our families. We went on to become an integral part of the most productive generation in American history. We helped to create more than 30 million new jobs, and we were part of the engine that powered one of the longest periods of economic growth in American history. When the Berlin Wall came down and the Soviet Union fell apart, we were proud that America had won the Cold War. We veterans knew we had done our part – Vietnam was one of the hottest parts of the Cold War.

Nonetheless, we were mostly invisible, and remain so to this day. The press and the media continue to paint us with the same miserable brush. Vietnam veterans are portrayed as troubled, alcoholic, drug addicted, abusive, and violent - societal misfits. Even though that sad characterization applies to only a small percentage of us, it became and somehow remains the public face of Vietnam veterans everywhere.

If you have not served in the military, if you want to know the truth, if you want to know who we Vietnam veterans really are, ask us. We don’t talk about our wartime experiences very much except in the secure presence of each other, but we will respond if you ask. These days you will find many of us enjoying our grandchildren. If you ask us about our careers, you will find we served in government jobs, taught your children in school and Sunday School, built your roads, bridges, skyscrapers and homes, coached in community sports leagues, cut your hair, fixed your cars, treated your injuries and illnesses, flew your planes, and preached the sermons you came to hear on Sunday. We were trades and professional people, entrepreneurs, neighborhood business owners, cops and firemen, blue, pink and white collar workers, and on and on. Oh, and by the way, some of us achieved considerable success and hired many of you. In other words, we were and continue to be the normal productive Americans you see all around you every day.

Nonetheless, to this day, when someone first hears that I served in Vietnam, they commonly respond with pitying eyes, sorrowful looks, and a sympathetic,
“I’m sorry”.
You can imagine their reaction when I respond,
“Why are you sorry? I’m not. I’m proud of my service in Vietnam and my time in the Marine Corps. Those were my formative years and they changed me forever, all for the good.”
Believe it or not, those comments are usually well received, and they often lead to a productive discussion on the war in Vietnam, why we were there, what it meant, and the troops who fought there.

I have found that the best way for me to stand up for my fellow Vietnam veterans is to tell the Vietnam story from my perspective. When I do that, people usually listen and they are often surprised at what they hear. They tell me they never heard those things before. Often, they change some of their opinions about the war and the troops.

The first time I tried this approach was in 1972. I had been off active duty for a couple of years and I was back in school getting a degree in engineering. I was still young, only in my late 20’s, but I felt much older than most of the kids around me. One day Jane Fonda and her draft-dodging husband, Tom Hayden, came to the campus to speak at a big anti-war rally. I hung around in the back of the crowd to see if she was as bad as my friends had said (she was worse). After the rally broke up, I was walking back to the library when a young student, maybe 19 or 20 years old, confronted me. He got in my face and said,
“You’re a vet, aren’t you!”
I answered,
“Yes I am.”
Then he let me have it. He screamed,
“How could you do those awful things? How could you kill those babies and innocent women and children? How could you be part of that evil war? Why did you go? Why?
I should note that getting in a Marine’s face is usually not a wise move, and I did consider simply smacking his pimply nose; but, for some reason, I kind of felt bad for him. He was just a dumb kid who had been pumped up by the lies of a good looking, smooth talking movie star. So, I said,
“Do you really want to know why or do you just want to stand there and scream?”
Surprisingly, he paused, took a breath, and said,
“Ok, tell me.”
So, I told him.
“First of all, I was in Vietnam for over a year, and I didn’t do any of those awful things you said and I never saw anyone else do it. I joined the Marines and volunteered for Vietnam because I believe in freedom. I believe in it so much that I’m willing to die for someone else’s freedom. I went to Vietnam to free the Vietnamese people from totalitarianism. I went to fight for their right to be free. I went to defend freedom where it was most threatened - Vietnam. I went to defend the rights of free people everywhere. I went to fight for American freedom. I went to fight for your freedom. I went to fight for your right to stand there and insult me. That’s why I went. So, what do you have to say to that?”
His eyes got a little moist, and he said,
“Thanks.”