It was finally spring in South Vietnam. On March 28, 1971, the morning’s sticky warmth, which had replaced cold monsoon rains, felt reassuring on my stroll from the mess hall to the Americal Division Public Information Office. My thoughts were only of a letter to NatalieRead More
The Zodiac calendar says the Year Of The Ox/Buffalo has arrived. But in Vietnam, despite the Tet Lunar New Year, the page has not turned and the Year Of COVID-19 stubbornly persists. The country is now battling hard against one of the virus’s most troublesome outbreaks. Read More
The spring 1971 air-mobile assault along the Laotian border was the last major offensive of the Vietnam War for US and South Vietnamese troops. Thanks to a sloppy mistake on my part, I wound up face to face— far too up close and personal—with this shooting war.Read More
Ft. Bragg teemed with so many Vietnam war returnees that the nearby town, Fayetteville, was known as Fayette-Nam. Some of these soldiers brought home lawlessness, drug addiction and even murder. My personal remedy for this madness was to get out of there as often as possible. Read More
A handful of distinct reasons made our ad-hoc Hog Farm bar in Chu Lai unique. No one ever drank alone or paid for a drink. No one was ever turned away, any time of day or night. And most important, there were no war stories allowed.Read More
As a boy growing up in Brooklyn, holidays like Easter were paens of cultural traditions: momentous gatherings of an extended Italian American family, from grandparents and uncles and aunts, to cousins and siblings, joyously sharing great feasts which are the memories that color the present. Not so much Easter in Vietnam.Read More
Worry, doubt, confusion, isolation. Fear of an invisible foe. The sad reality of these Covid-19 times? No. A night of guard duty during the Vietnam War. A moonless midnight on a rock-strewn Chu Lai beach. Except for the rhythmic lapping of ocean waves, there was silence.Read More
Returning home from Vietnam in 1971, the best thing to happen was the fulfillment of my relationship with Natalie—which has endured to this day. Second best? Surely the onset of my friendship with Chuck–Charles E. Wainhouse–which unfortunately ended with his passing on January 8, 2020. ChuckRead More
The onion-skin transcript of my Army court martial is barely twelve pages long. Granted, in the annals of military justice my alleged infraction was not on par with, say, the Caine Mutiny. But neither was the charge — disobeying a lawful order — a trivial matter. Read More
If not the last of my concerns, the specter of the Vietnam War was hardly top of mind on the morning I was inducted into the US Army in August, 1969. Rather, it was the sheer novelty of my hapless adventure that had my full attention.Read More
