Don’t know how I missed the conversation and call for personal Vietnam accounts. But then, I notice that I have been forgetful and less observant these days. Then again, I do remember Vietnam, with a mixture of pride and some sadness. My story.
I grew up in Asia, Japan and the Philippines, so I registered for the draft at the Embassy in Manila. 1A, but due to the distance between draft board and nearest training base, and the related cost, I would not be drafted. However, I could volunteer, which is just what I did freshman year, in the campus NROTC unit. Dad had been in the Navy during World War 2, so I had a young man’s desire to measure up. During the qualifying physical, I sneaked into the exam room and memorized the eye chart. I was in.
My first assignment was a ship out of Pearl, great experience, though I was reminded almost daily of my father’s near miss. He was to report aboard the USS West Virgina on Saturday, but due to a late transport, he came up the channel Sunday morning, and found himself staring at his ship which was resting on the bottom. There but for the grace of God. Back to my story, for the next 18 months, I regularly called my detailer in Washington, seeking a transfer to river boats, preferably before the war ended. I was Mr. Roberts.
Finally, orders to a river boat squadron in Vietnam. First almost five months of language, boat, and weapons training, then on to my assignment. I was by then a young lieutenant, Rostov in the Hussars! I oversaw 25 men, and I never came close to that number in my civilian career over the next 50 years. Obviously lucky, no purple heart, no complicated moral issues, no friends nor crew lost. The Vietnamese I worked with were honest, foolish, hardworking, political, combative, fearful, in other words, like any other group of people. After closing out our advisory mission, I caught on with a small team of Vietnamese and Americans running a radar training team. To keep it short, we travelled from Da Nang in the north all the way round the southern coast to An Thoi Island. The Vietnamese had inter-locking radar stations, most often on small coastal islands, and most often safe. So, I saw a lot of the country. I loved it!
A few thoughts generated by the special edition of the ‘69 Times. Never particularly gung-ho in a personal way, I did not question my country’s call to duty, and I especially wanted to put myself in harm’s way, to walk the walk. I understand illegal orders and the moral duty not to follow them, but when your country, through a political process that we Americans use for most of our governmental decisions, calls to you, I am not quite sure how the individual can say no, apart from conscientious objection. A few more quick thoughts. First, a case can be made that Vietnam was a battle we lost, though helping to win the Cold War. Second, I was in country with Rick Detweiler, the only Lieutenant younger than me. Third, how did I miss George Cooke, since we were there virtually the same time? And on Monkey Mountain, also about the same time. Fourth, remfs were hard to love, but they did a job. Fifth, the smell, hot and rich, I loved it! Finally, I played in some great poker games, and like all poker players, I usually won.