A Vietnam War Remembrance

By James B. McMillan

Most war remembrances are told from a perspective that the goals and motives of the government are always right. This one seeks to show only the heart of service that is the U.S. soldier. They continue to serve in impossible situations with honor and sacrifice.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Dec 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667877600

Book preview

Dedication

This work is dedicated to my family and friends who prayed for my safe return every day while I served in the army. The Vietnam era was a dangerous time in our country. Many people both feared and opposed the involvement. I believe that people, who do what they are motivated to do from a sense of duty or patriotism, are possessed of the greatest form of love. My siblings, to the ‘man’, prayed each day for my safe return. My wonderful neighbor, an amazing lady named Dixie Weeks, raised an American flag each morning that I was away. Often with her two small children and my youngest brother and my sister standing by and praying. My mother and her mother, my friends from college who were faithful and devout, although it was not generally a devout period in our history, all kept me in their prayers.

Also, it is dedicated to the 58,000 plus service men and women who did not return. And to the hundreds of thousands of veterans who came home wounded, disfigured, or impaired for life, only to return to scorn, rejection, loneliness, neglect, isolation and unemployment.

Military veterans today make up only about 7% of the American population. As their numbers dwindle, it is my fervent hope that their sacrifices will be remembered with appreciation.

Pray for them, and, above all, pray for your nation.

I extend my deepest gratitude to the readers of this account, my American brothers and sisters

Forward

I have felt a need to write these things down for many years. Not that I have much education or skill at writing, nor do I believe I have the ability to produce a work of literature of any kind that anyone would particularly care to read. It is more of a catharsis; or a confession of sorts. One great American author said that every human being has at least one good book in them. Having personally encountered more human beings that are mind numbingly boring than those who were particularly fascinating on any level, I am not sure I agree with that, but that adage seems to nearly always apply to military veterans. As a devoted raconteur and one who has always collected stories, the best ones invariably seem to come from this group.

Some family members and old friends have encouraged me to do this, and, at seventy-two years of age, I might not be around to attempt it later on. When I retired ten years ago, to our family farm in east Texas, I began trying to reconnect with old comrades in arms, or just ‘Army buddies’. A few keep in touch, but the bad parts about that era, for many of us, just needed to ‘go away’, so I found few fellow military vets that wanted to remember that time after service, even if it meant losing track of someone who had been a devoted friend, or maybe even had saved your life at some point. It’s just too hard to deal with some feelings. One of my buddies from infantry training had sent me a Christmas card every year for all those years, and still emails me once a week. His ‘how I got here’ story (everyone had one) was a good one. He told me that, upon receiving his ‘greetings from Uncle Sam’, his father explained to him that, although he had served all through WW2 as a Luftwaffe pilot shooting down British and American pilots that, upon returning home to a destroyed nation, he fled to the U.S., was eventually given citizenship, and allowed to prosper and raise a family, and he told his son, ‘This is the greatest nation in history, and if they want you to serve, then you will serve. End of discussion’. My friend elected to take airborne school at the end of infantry training so he avoided Vietnam Service by becoming an Airborne Ranger. That is certainly no ‘picnic’, either. When you are in the bush, you always have to partner up with another grunt so that you can combine at least two ponchos in the pursuit of some kind of dry shelter, or ‘hootch’ at night. My ‘hootch mate’ was another person that I kept in touch with through the years until he died of cancer several years ago. One of my friends came to visit me while passing through Texas at one point, but that was about all the ‘reunions’ there were. I ‘googled’ my way through this process of reuniting, and I found that my old company executive officer, (now) Colonel James G. Cole, who had always been a solid and inspirational leader in the ‘bush’. He had been selected by Washington, after our combat duty together, to conduct negotiations with the North Vietnamese for the identification of missing in action personnel and prisoner of war release. I found considerable information regarding this, but was unable to contact him, regrettably. What a life of service he has had.  It is so important for families to get some sort of ‘closure’ after any tragic loss, and this remarkable officer seems to have devoted much of his career and his life to this most worthy of endeavors. Well done, ‘LT’.

Also, during this process, I began to feel that I was living on ‘borrowed time’, as just about all of my ‘brothers’ had died young, usually of cancer, (see: agent orange) in some Veterans’ Administration hospital. Anyway, by God’s grace I am still here, and in relatively good health.Two years in the Air Cavalry will take a huge toll on a man’s body, and I have the bad knees, feet, and ankles so typical of Infantrymen with that background. Pain management, repeated surgery, and physical rehab facilities have consumed much of my life; but I remain. I am sure that God must still have a plan for my life. As a mature believer in the Lord, Jesus Christ, who, by His sacrifice, provided that relationship with the Almighty, it is easy for me to believe this.

My wife displays my military decorations in our home in a box frame. People who visit are always curious about them, and ask questions. I am still uncomfortable talking about my military experiences, partially due to some post-traumatic stress issues, and partially because, if