04/20/2004
Vietnam
Kaitlyn I am so sick of the politicians’ rhetoric on Vietnam I could spit. Currently in this year of our Lord, there is one would-be president who will NEVER be this country’s president, who is a Vietnam veteran. His name is John F. Kerry and Kaitlyn by the time you read this the man will be a total unknown. Still the man brings to the nation’s conscience the era of a dirty little war fought in the jungles of some small spit of land in the far east somewhere. A war fought for no discernible reason, at least as the American public saw it.
There is also on this date and time a war being waged in a mid east country known as Iraq. Inevitably, the comparisons between Iraq and Vietnam are debated as if they are even remotely similar.
They are not.
Vietnam was raging over 35 years before the date of this writing, Kaitlyn. Not a small span of time and a lifetime when one considers the difference in the weaponry, war methodology, theaters of engagement and public sentiment.
For a minute forget all of this. Read the words of one woman whose life was profoundly affected by that nasty little skirmish in the jungle. Turn deaf ears to the politicians and read how one American’s life was tried, tested and changed forever by the Vietnam war.
The army during that time, Kaitlyn, was NOT a volunteer one. This makes all the difference in the world. The politicians would have us believe that this little factoid is not part of the debate but like I said, deaf ear, Kaitlyn. Learn with your eyes and read on.
The United States of America was not attacked, Kaitlyn, with the result being a war waged in the jungles of Southeast Asia. America is now occupying Iraq in the mideast as a result of a direct attack on our soil, Kaitlyn. This too makes all the difference.
I was a young 18 years of age, graduated from high school and still in love with my childhood sweetheart. We did, like so many of the time, get married at age 19 with hopes of happiness ever after.
Of course we were both aware of the ongoing conflict in Vietnam and the possible repercussions it would have on our lives. We talked about it. My youthful husband didn’t want to go.
I didn’t want him to go either, Kaitlyn, but my sentiments were of a different sort than those of my new husband.
So far as I was concerned, the war in Vietnam was naught but a quagmire (pay attention to that word because it’s raised his ugly name in the rhetoric of the current Iraq war) of a battle that resulted in endless body bags of young American men without any end in sight.
There was no beginning of Vietnam in sight either, Kaitlyn, save some vague notion that the United States needed to stop the North Vietnamese from invading the land of the South Vietnamese. North Vietnam was aided and abetted by the communists. South Vietnam was home of the good guys. At least this is how my muddled mind understood it but it’s no mind, that dirty and ill-fought war in Vietnam was not being battled to win and get out so far as I saw it. Me and much of the rest of America, Kaitlyn, as the era of Vietnam was a time of great unrest in this country and I was right in there marching with lit candles in my hand.
Eventually the United States withdrew from Vietnam due to public pressure because Americans, God bless ‘em, thought a war should be fought to some end and the politicians just weren’t doing it. Instead they were throwing young American bodies at the problem and the public got sick of it.
They didn’t get sick of it soon enough, Kaitlyn, because my young marriage was destroyed by that dirty little war.
My husband didn’t want to go to Vietnam. And he was willing to move to Canada to avoid the draft.
This became problem number one.
As opposed as I was to Vietnam, I didn’t want to leave my country. When Rick brought up the notion of moving to Canada, I totally balked.
By this time the politicians had instituted a lottery, Kaitlyn. Indeed, dates were plucked from a drum. Draftees were enlisted based on their birth date and in the order that the dates were pulled from the drum. My young husband’s birth date was the sixth one pulled from the drum, Kaitlyn. He was going to Vietnam whether he liked it or not.
His parents too were against the dirty little war and agreed to finance our move to Canada. When Rick brought up the idea the blood drained from my face.
Sure I didn’t want my beloved spouse being drafted against his will to go to some steamy jungle for a possible return in a body bag. But to move to another country?
“Supposed America was attacked?” I asked Rick.
“That’s a whole different thing,” he said carefully. “But Vietnam is a politicians’ war, not a battle being fought to win or as a result of our need to defend ourselves. I don’t want to die for the politicians.”
He was right, Kaitlyn. The Democrats were in charge of Vietnam, Kaitlyn, and like Democrats since the beginning of time, they simply cannot run a war. I didn’t want my husband to die for the politicians either.
I also refused to move to Canada.
Rick began preparations for the move with an eye to the draft board’s siren call.
It was the end of my young marriage, Kaitlyn.
I did dearly love the man; loved him since I was 14 years old. With sad eyes I watched him plan and prepare to leave the country. I would not be going with him. How can a marriage survive with the spouses living in different countries? We both knew it was the end.
As it turned out the draft board did call and as it turned out, Rick got a health deferment. Something about bad feet.
It was too late. Something died in our marriage when Rick began to prepare to leave the country. We couldn’t revive it. Perhaps we were too young to work on it, perhaps I resented him for asking me to leave my country, perhaps it was just indifference.
To this day I still love him though he has been remarried for many years, as have I.
So when the politicians go on about Vietnam, comparing the current Iraq conflict to that war, I get angry.
They don’t know what the hell they are talking about.
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