I figured I could teach a Vietnamese class to whoever was interested. Otherwise, I’d write an English-Vietnamese phrasebook for the troops. The one the Army was issuing at the time was not so good in my opinion. It probably wouldn’t get printed or widely distributed; I just needed something to stay busy so I didn’t start chewing up the furniture like a bored rottweiler. Given the difficulty of learning Vietnamese, the US military would have been better off printing pointy-talky sheets. It’s sort of like a mini picture dictionary that allows people to talk when they don’t have a common language. For the situations soldiers in the field were most likely to face, 100 or so pictures would cover basically every message they’d need to get across.
Out of curiosity, I went to the mail room and was pleasantly surprised to see a few letters and post cards from my dad and Alexandra. I wrote back immediately and apologized profusely, citing the unusual nature of my mission. I assured them I was in a safe rear area and would be back home in a few months.
I took to wearing civilian clothes because I didn’t want to get bothered about my hair and beard. And because I respect the uniform and those who wear it. I spent a lot of time just wandering around the base. The weapon depot was interesting. I saw all these big steel drums with an orange stripe painted on them. That must be that Agent Orange stuff I heard so much about. Turns out the chemical isn’t orange, it just got called that because of the color label on the barrels in came in. Anyway, the main ingredient was a synthetic plant growth hormone called auxin. It caused plants to overgrow, fall over, and die. That was kind of cool, I thought. An efficient way to clear the jungle so the enemy couldn’t hide in it. Although as a nature lover I had become a kind of tree hugger during my time in the jungle.
There wasn’t much interest in my Vietnamese dictionary or class unfortunately. There was a lot more interest in how many Charlies and gooks I had wasted. Tons of guys just saw the war as some sort of weird football game. Body count reports were the way many officers got promoted. At this point, I was a first lieutenant, just one rank higher than when I started. I didn’t care about that though because of how soon I would be getting out of the Army. I had seen too many things in Vietnam to convince me why “military intelligence” is everyone’s favorite oxymoron. It’s tragic because when wars are fought intelligently, they end faster with less bloodshed. And when people are very intelligent, they find ways to solve disputes without fighting at all. Blessed are the peacemakers, as the good book says.
My replacement at the outpost in the Central Highlands came to meet me before he flew out. I told him everything I knew and was pleased to see him taking notes. I gave a Vietnamese speaking test and he didn’t do very well. I told him not to worry as long as he was immersed, he’d learn enough quickly. In war, it’s not the last talk before battle that matters the most, but the steady stream of advice and encouragement. And he was bound to get plenty from Binh if he put in the work. I remembered Truman’s promise to help Binh and his people if they were in danger, and I was sure my replacement would help with that. I gave him a notecard with my name, my dad’s name, his address, and his phone number and told him to give it to Binh as soon as he arrived.
It was early 1972 and the war was not going well. The Easter Offensive was driven back at an enormous cost and there was little confidence that the South Vietnamese military would last long without US help. The North Vietnamese Army or NVA had been building up strength for a long time. They had tanks, artillery, and many thousands of well-equipped, well-trained, and highly motivated troops. The bombing campaign Nixon unleashed on them brought them to the negotiating table for a ceasefire, but it was clear to me who was going to win. The North Vietnamese had a much greater unity of purpose, in part because the US had dropped more bombs on South Vietnam, our supposed ally, than North Vietnam, our communist foe. In fact, we dropped more bombs on South Vietnam than we did on Germany and Japan combined during WW2. I forget if that calculation also includes the explosive equivalent of the two atomic bombs, but that would only add another 40,000 tons or about 7% to the grand total.
Throughout the war, I had heard about various half-hearted measures like the Chieu Hoi (open arms) program to encourage the enemy to surrender and defect. All that was sabotaged by stupid, bloodthirsty songs like Napalm Sticks to Kids which was very popular with US troops at the time. Meanwhile, the communists had a Vietnamese woman who spoke excellent, fluent English broadcast propaganda. The troops called her Hanoi Hannah. In her broadcasts, she would always mention specific US units and their locations to let them know the communists had many spies and knew exactly what we were up to. I was so thoroughly disgusted with the stupidity and incompetence of the US military, which simply refused to make any effort to understand the language, culture, history, or religion of not just our enemy, but also our ally. If I had not become very knowledgeable about both my own personal allies and enemies, I surely would have been killed.
My thoughts turned to coming home and seeing Alexandra again, as I was now convinced I would survive the war after all. By this time, we had begun to correspond regularly, at least by my standards. She offered to pick me up at Dulles airport, but I decided to stick to our original plan, even if meant hitchhiking for a few hours. At long last, it was time to leave. It was great feeling getting my DD214, my discharge form. Honorable discharge; thank god. Free at last. And I was leaving with all the body parts I came in with and most of my sanity. Many others were not so lucky. I didn’t take much to Vietnam and came back with less, just what would fit in my duffel bag and my favorite Army jacket. It had an American flag where the name tag would normally go. I liked that; it was a way of saying “I have no name; I’m just an American soldier”. Modesty and anonymity are useful defenses. They make it easier to get friends and to lull your enemies into a false sense of security. In The Odyssey, Odysseus disguises himself as a beggar in order to gain entrance to his home, which had been overtaken by many riotous suitors who had been squatting there for years. But I digress. Often.
Where all the white women at?
Another interesting read. Mahalo.
You are actually turning a cardboard cutout into a person. Well dome.
Thanks, Derpy.
Just drug my butt in from the yard and am drinking an adult beverage. Forgot all about dinner. Ugh.
I was trying to turn my Rambo-knockoff into a plausible character. In the movies, he was SOF and a helicopter pilot? C’mon. Screenwriters are morons. Observe:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6FqUyxVD4qc
I guess the engine magically got cold as soon as the rotors stopped turning.
Good to see you’re about. I was worried I’d have to be like a mom and call you after you missed a few zooms.
That clip was the A-Team, the A-team was always over the top.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, as the good book says.”
I imagine that’s where Samuel Colt got the idea. He ain’t wrong. I am not at all sure what my “De-escalation” roll (and role) is/would be.
“Modesty and anonymity are useful defenses. They make it easier to get friends and to lull your enemies into a false sense of security.” BOOM. I’ve long purposefully dressed modestly to slip-sneak in with ease. I miss being ‘Just Some White Guy,’ gone in a blink. I certainly don’t wear anything with words. I enjoy that not having any ink kinda makes me a minority in my generation (by my made-up figures). The concept of *volunteering* to get a permanent mark is anathema to me. (I’ve never even whiffed tying the knot. These two are unrelated.)
Iron Mantra for Ev: “Never underestimate the power of being underestimated.” I wouldn’t phrase it as “lulling enemies,” but I’m right there witcha. This goes for my personal life, to sports, to basically everything. Surprising people with your unexpected acumen creates a strong First Impression. (Or wins the hand.) When you’re actually *dumber* then they initially thought and ya need help, sympathy is a powerful emotion. <– I am many things in real life, but I tend to exude likability, one way or another. I'm a goofy li'l octopus. I can squirm into every niche.
Music links:
https://youtu.be/t9eybY9qFfY
https://youtu.be/HBhoJDC_2O0
Those are the weirdest S Club videos ever.
S Club ’67?
Ain’t no war like a S Club war!
Never had a DMZ come true
Bring it all back [in a body bag]
Chopper ain’t gonna wait for you
I’ve been behind. Already Day 3 of the May Basho.
Good morning all!
Today’s musical offering comes from 10CC.
The Film of My Love
Share and enjoy!
Wakey, wakey.
🌄👏☕
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=59bLUwYONEI
🎶🎶
Good morning, Sean and Beau!
“Trump wants to take away your health care.”
-My TV
“Biden Levies Sweeping Tariffs on China, Intensifying Trade Fight With Trump”
The press is the strangest being on this planet.
The bigger the lie…
They admit that Biden isn’t enacting policy for the good of the country but to play one-upmanship with Trump’s flapping lips of verbal diarrhea. Its like watching the last season of a TV show that ran out of ideas and now its a hodgepodge of nonsense as the writers all vie for their names in the credits.
Good morning, Glibs. I am enjoying life on vaca up in NH. Weather is so much nicer than central TX. Helped my parents with some chores at their house — power washing their patio, redid a stone walkway that had sunk a couple inches into the ground over time, put together a big patio swing they have now that the patio they keep it on is clean. Good stuff.
To tamp down the good vibes, I also visited a cousin of mine who is being ravaged by cancer and probably won’t make it to 2025. She is very frail, but in as good a spirit as I think I could manage in her situation.
Good morning, Grumble! I’m glad you’re enjoying your vacation despite your folks serving up a bunch of “Honey Do…” I’m so sorry to hear about your cousin, but I’m glad you were able to visit her. I hope you were able to reminisce about good times.
Actually on topic!
Was watching The Umbrella Academy with the Millennial gf. She had not seen it before. When Klaus goes back to 1968, MGF asks me “what war is that?”
Walking ad for historical illiteracy, but the hallmark of the generation.
NYS public schools!
On the road in an hour or so, ya’ll hold down the fort.
Fair roads and hot ladies in sports cars to you good sir
Also OT: Doomed relationship with someone named Alexandra?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELGaHaZzwjU