Writings from Vietnam

By Mary Barbara McKay

Writings from Vietnam is a compilation of letters written by Rod McKay to a young woman he had only known for two weeks before he went into the Army July 1968, a journal he kept for slightly over 3 months during his first months in Vietnam, May 3-August 12, 1969, a letter he wrote to his parents which was published in The Malheur Ent

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thoroughbred Books
• Release date: Nov 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9781088062364

Book preview

Writings from Vietnam

Writings from Vietnam

Copyright © 2022 Mary Barbara McKay

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the author.

Thoroughbred Books— Pleasanton, KS

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022917906

Title: Writings from Vietnam

Author: Mary Barbara McKay

Digital distribution | 2022

Paperback | 2022

Thank you to Merl Humphrey of Merl Humphrey Photography, Fort Scott, KS for creating the composite photograph for the cover of this book.

Also by Mary Barbara McKay:

The Good Horses: How Horses Taught Me God’s Plan for My Life

Writings from Vietnam

Mary Barbara McKay

Thoroughbred Books

In honor of Rodrick H. McKay

Contents

Dedication

Introduction

Abbreviations and Definitions

1 May 16, 1969

2 June 9, 1969

3 August 3, 1968

4 August 25, 1968

5 September 8, 1968

6 Oct. 13, 1968

7 July 8, 1969

8 July 21, 1969

9 August 6, 1969

10 August 30, 1969

11 October 2, 1969

13 November 4, 1969

14 November 22, 1969

15 December 11, 1969

16 January 1, 1970

17 January 24, 1970

18 Jan. 15, 1969 –Jan. 18, 1969

19 February 16, 1969

20 (Continue here letter from January 24, 1970

21 March 1, 1970

22 March 13, 1970

23 March 28, 1970

24 April 11, 1970

25 Addendum

Introduction

Most of this book was written by Rod McKay, not with the intention of being published, but as letters to me while he was in Vietnam from May 3, 1969 until shortly after March 28, 1970 when he told me on a postcard from the EXPO 70 in Japan, where he was on R&R, not to write him at his old address because he would be coming home sooner than expected. The next letter I received from him was dated April 11, 1970, postmarked Harper, Oregon, his home. He arrived home the night of April 10.

Rod went into the Army in July 1968 and went through Basic Training at Fort Dix, New Jersey. He also completed Advanced Infantry Training at Fort Dix. He was a Sergeant when he was discharged. In Vietnam Rod was a Radio Telephone Operator (RTO) and carried the radio for his Commanding Officer for his first 6 months. In November 1969 Rod was made Company Clerk and worked from a fire support base at Tay Ninh Province for his last 5 months in Vietnam. He was no longer in the field dodging enemy attacks, sleeping on the ground, often in the mud, constantly watching for Vietnamese. As Company Clerk it was his job to write the letters home to wives and parents of men who were killed in Vietnam. He used a manual typewriter. In each letter, every sentence had to be perfect: no erasures, no white out, no eraser-friendly paper, and no strike-overs. If he made a mistake, he had to start the letter over on another sheet of paper. This book is a compilation of his letters to me, and included at the end is an Addendum, a journal he kept almost daily for just over 3 months: May 3, 1969 to August 12, 1969. His letters and his journal tell what he did and what he thought; they tell how he kept his spirit alive and his purpose straight in a very dismal situation.

In June 1968 I met Rod McKay when my brother and I arrived at his parents’ ranch near Harper in eastern Oregon to spend about two weeks living ranch life: riding horses, herding cattle and doing what is done on a ranch. The year before, Rena, Rod’s sister, the second of eight children, whom I became friends with my freshman year in college, invited five friends to come home to their ranch to drive cattle. My brother was so envious when he heard the stories about my cattle drive adventure, he wanted to try it. Rod and Emily McKay said we were welcome, so the two of us arrived the following June.

Rod was not home the year I first visited. He was working to make money for his last year of college. He graduated from The University of Portland in May 1968 with a Bachelor’s Degree in Political Science and History with a focus on developing countries. Rod enlisted in the Army to avoid being drafted. Since he had a college degree, he planned to become an Officer. We spent nearly two weeks riding horses, herding cattle, driving and riding in the hills, irrigating—living ranch life. In the evenings after supper Rod and I talked and talked long after everyone retired. I never met anyone who seemed to have the same beliefs and faith as I did and with whom I seemed to have so much in common. When I returned home I wrote him two letters before he left for Basic Training on July 19. In both his first two letters he made it very clear that he had dreams of helping people in underdeveloped countries and did not want anyone to stop him. He said he wanted to be free from threats to security, to family, to loved ones—free from always having to return to the same home. He wrote in his second letter: Love comes from God and it has no limits. Because a person loves one thing it does not mean he must love another less. Love isn’t limited, but man is: his time, his money, his very presence is limited. That is why he must make a choice as to how he will fulfill his being. I have made that choice. I don’t know when, but during the last 4 years. If you think it was a bad choice, say so. You were the first person to make me reconsider that choice, but my dream has been too long forming to change so suddenly.

In his first letter he told me, "I often think about your stay here, it was so short, yet its effect on me is far from small. I have for some time realized the fact I would want some things I could not have. Your coming and leaving made that reality very concrete in my life. That is sacrifice and I think sacrifice is necessary for true Christian living. You came and you left. To me our relationship was one of perfect beauty, one without regrets.

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