>
> Subject: Heroes of the Vietnam Generation
>
>
>
> Although, James Webb has written other articles and books on the
Vietnam
> experience, I think this article will hit home with many Vietnam vets,
as
it
> did with me. The experiences of many of us former Platoon Leaders and
later
> Company Commanders or Advisors, is right on target from the continual
> replacement of seniors to the loss of young peers and subordinates.
His
> descriptions of our daily activities is also much as I recall it to
have
> been. Perhaps, for well known individuals like Webb and Ollie North,
their
> one tour experiences are embedded in their minds, much more so than
the
many
> of us who went there two or more times. Maybe, some of us have more
that
we
> wish to forget or ignore from the past. But this writing is a very
well
> written reminder of our time over there. Thanks Mr. Webb, for both the
good
> and the bad remembrances, and for the credit given the troops who
really
did
> the vast majority of the real fighting..-Stolz sends-
>
> Heroes of the Vietnam Generation
>
> By James Webb
>
> The rapidly disappearing cohort of Americans that endured the Great
> Depression and then fought World War II is receiving quite a send-off
from
> the leading lights of the so-called 60s generation. Tom Brokaw has
published
> two oral histories of "The Greatest Generation" that feature ordinary
people
> doing their duty and suggests that such conduct was historically
unique.
>
> Chris Matthews of "Hardball" is fond of writing columns praising the
Navy
> service of his father while castigating his own baby boomer generation
for
> its alleged softness and lack of struggle. William Bennett gave a
startling
> condescending speech at the Naval Academy a few years ago comparing
the
> heroism of the "D-Day Generation" to the drugs-and-sex nihilism of the
> "Woodstock Generation." And Steven Spielberg, in promoting his film
"Saving
> Private Ryan," was careful to justify his portrayals of soldiers in
action
> based on the supposedly unique nature of World War II.
>
> An irony is at work here. Lest we forget, the World War II generation
now
> being lionized also brought us the Vietnam War, a conflict which
today's
> most conspicuous voices by and large opposed, and in which few of them
> served. The "best an brightest" of the Vietnam age group once made
headlines
> by castigating their parents for bringing about the war in which they
would
> not fight, which as become the war they refuse to remember.
>
> Pundits back then invented a term for this animus: the "generation
gap."
> Long, plaintive articles and even books were written examining its
> manifestations. Campus leaders, who claimed precocious wisdom through
the
> magical process of reading a few controversial books, urged fellow
baby
> boomers not to trust anyone over 30. Their elders who had survived the
> Depression and fought the largest war in history were looked down upon
as
> shallow, materialistic, and out of touch.
>
> Those of us who grew up, on the other side of the **et line from
that
> era's counter-culture can't help but feel a little leery of this
sudden
> gush of appreciation for our elders from the leading lights of the old
> counter-culture. Then and now, the national conversation has proceeded
> from the dubious assumption that those who cam of age during Vietnam
are a
> unified generation in the same sense as their parents were, and thus
are
> capable of being spoken for through these fickle elites.
>
> In truth, the "Vietnam generation" is a misnomer. Those who came of
age
> during that war are permanently divided by different reactions to a
whole
> range of counter-cultural agendas, and nothing divides them more
deeply
than
> the personal ramifications of the war itself. The sizable portion of
the
> Vietnam age group who declined to support the counter-cultural agenda,
and
> especially the men and women who opted to serve in the military during
the
> Vietnam War, are quite different from their peers who for decades have
> claimed to speak for them. In fact, they are much like the World War
II
> generation itself. For them, Woodstock was a side show, college
protestors
> were spoiled brats who would have benefited from having to work a few
jobs
> in order to pay their tuition, and Vietnam represented not an
intellectual
> exercise in draft avoidance, or protest marches but a battlefield that
was
> just as brutal as those their fathers faced in World War II and Korea.
>
> Few who served during Vietnam ever complained of a generation gap. The
men
> who fought World War II were their heroes and role models. They
honored
> their father's service by emulating it, and largely agreed with their
> father's wisdom in attempting to stop Communism's reach in Southeast
Asia.
>
> The most accurate poll of their attitudes (Harris, 1980) showed that
91
> percent were glad they'd served their country, 74 percent enjoyed
their
time
> in the service, and 89 percent agreed with the statement that "our
troops
> were asked to fight in a war which our political leaders in Washington
would
> not let them win." And most importantly, the castigation they received
upon
> returning home was not from the World War II generation, but from the
very
> elites in their age group who supposedly spoke for them.
>
> Nine million men served in the military during Vietnam War, three
million
of
> whom went to the Vietnam Theater. Contrary to popular mythology,
two-thirds
> of these were volunteers, and 73 percent of those who died were
volunteers.
> While some attention has been paid recently to the plight of our
prisoners
> of war, most of whom were pilots; there has been little recognition of
how
> brutal the war was for those who fought it on the ground.
>
> Dropped onto the enemy's terrain 12,000 miles away from home,
America's
> citizen-soldiers performed with a tenacity and quality that may never
be
> truly understood. Those who believe the war was fought incompletely on
a
> tactical level should consider Hanoi's recent admission that 1.4
million
of
> its soldiers died on the battlefield, compared to 58,000 total U.S.
dead.
>
> Those who believe that it was a "dirty little war" where the bombs did
all
> the work might contemplate that is was the most costly war the U.S.
Marine
> Corps has ever fought-five times as many dead as World War I, three
times
as
> many dead as in Korea, and more total killed and wounded than in all
of
> World War II.
>
> Significantly, these sacrifices were being made at a time the United
States
> was deeply divided over our effort in Vietnam. The baby-boom
generation
had
> cracked apart along class lines as America's young men were making
> difficult, life-or-death choices about serving. The better academic
> institutions became focal points for vitriolic protest against the
war,
with
> few of their graduates going into the military. Harvard College, which
had
> lost 691 alumni in World War II, lost a total of 12 men in Vietnam
from
the
> classes of 1962 through 1972 combined. Those classes at Princeton lost
six,
> at MIT two. The media turned ever more hostile. And frequently the
reward
> for a young man's having gone through the trauma of combat was to be
greeted
> by his peers with studied indifference of outright hostility.
>
> What is a hero? My heroes are the young men who faced the issues of
war
and
> possible death, and then weighed those concerns against obligations to
their
> country. Citizen-soldiers who interrupted their personal and
professional
> lives at their most formative stage, in the timeless phrase of the
> Confederate Memorial in Arlington National Cemetery, "not for fame of
> reward, not for place of for rank, but in simple obedience to duty, as
they
> understood it." Who suffered loneliness, disease, and wounds with an
> often-contagious élan. And who deserve a far better place in history
than
> that now offered them by the so-called spokesman of our so-called
> generation.
>
> Mr. Brokaw, Mr. Matthews, Mr. Bennett, Mr. Spielberg, meet my Marines.
> 1969 was an odd year to be in Vietnam. Second only to 1968 in terms of
> American casualties, it was the year made famous by Hamburger Hill, as
well
> as the gut-wrenching Life cover story showing pictures of 242
Americans
who
> had been killed in one average week of fighting. Back home, it was the
year
> of Woodstock, and of numerous anti-war rallies that culminated in the
> Moratorium march on Washington. The My Lai massacre hit the papers and
was
> seized upon the anti-war movement as the emblematic moment of the war.
> Lyndon Johnson left Washington in utter humiliation.
>
> Richard Nixon entered the scene, destined for an even worse fate. In
the
An
> Hoa Basin southwest of Danang, the Fifth Marine Regiment was in its
third
> year of continuous combat operations. Combat is an unpredictable and
inexact
> environment, but we were well led. As a rifle platoon and company
commander,
> I served under a succession of three regimental commanders who had cut
their
> teeth in World War II, and four different battalion commanders, three
of
> whom had seen combat in Korea. The company commanders were typically
> captains on their second combat tour in Vietnam, or young first
lieutenants
> like myself who were given companies after many months of "bush time"
as
> platoon commanders in he Basin's tough and unforgiving environs.
>
> The Basin was one of the most heavily contested areas in Vietnam, its
torn,
> cratered earth offering every sort of wartime possibility. In the
> mountains just to the west, not far from the Ho Chi Minh Trail, the
North
> Vietnamese Army operated an infantry division from an area called Base
Area
> 112. In the valleys of the Basin, main-force Viet Cong battalions
whose
> ranks were 80 percent North Vietnamese Army regulars moved against the
> Americans every day. Local Viet Cong units sniped and harassed.
Ridgelines
> and paddy dikes were laced with sophisticated bobby traps of every
size,
> from a hand grenade to a 250-pound bomb. The villages sat in the rice
> paddies and tree lines like individual fortresses, crisscrossed with
the
> trenches and spider holes, their homes sporting bunkers capable of
surviving
> direct hits from large-caliber artillery shells. The Viet Cong
> infrastructure was intricate and permeating. Except for the old and
the
very
> young, villagers who did not side with the Communists had either been
killed
> or driven out to the government controlled enclaves near Danang.
>
> In the rifle companies, we spent the endless months patrolling
ridgelines
> and villages and mountains, far away from any notion of tents, barbed
wire,
> hot food, or electricity. Luxuries were limited to what would fit
inside
> one's pack, which after a few "humps" usually boiled down to
letter-writing
> material, towel, soap, toothbrush, poncho liner, and a small
transistor
> radio.
>
> We moved through the boiling heat with 60 pounds of weapons and gear,
> causing a typical Marine to drop 20 percent of his body weight while
in
the
> bush. When we stopped we dug chest-deep fighting holes and slit
trenches
for
> toilets. We slept on the ground under makeshift poncho hooches, and
when
it
> rained we usually took our hooches down because wet ponchos shined
under
> illumination flares, making great targets. Sleep itself was fitful,
never
> more than an hour or two at a stretch for months at a time as we mixed
> daytime patrolling with night-time ambushes, listening posts, foxhole
duty,
> and radio watches. Ringworm, hookworm, malaria, and dysentery were
common,
> as was trench foot when the monsoons came. Respite was rotating back
to
the
> mud-filled regimental combat base at An Hoa for four or five days,
where
> rocket and mortar attacks were frequent and our troops manned
defensive
> bunkers at night. Which makes it kind of hard to get excited about
tales
of
> Woodstock, or camping at the Vineyard during summer break.
>
> We had been told while training that Marine officers in the rifle
companies
> had an 85 percent probability of being killed or wounded, and the
experience
> of "Dying Delta," as our company was known, bore that out. Of the
officers
> in the bush when I arrived, our company commander was wounded, the
weapons
> platoon commander wounded, the first platoon commander was killed, the
> second platoon commander was wounded twice, and I, commanding the
third
> platoons fared no better. Two of my original three-squad leaders were
> killed, and the third shot in the stomach. My platoon sergeant was
severely
> wounded, as was my right guide. By the time I left, my platoon I had
gone
> through six radio operators, five of them casualties.
>
> These figures were hardly unique; in fact, they were typical. Many
other
> units; for instance, those who fought the hill battles around Khe
Sanh, or
> were with the famed Walking Dead of the Ninth Marine Regiment, or were
in
> the battle of Hue City or at Dai Do, had it far worse.
>
> When I remember those days and the very young men who spent them with
me,
I
> am continually amazed, for these were mostly recent civilians barley
out
of
> high school, called up from the cities and the farms to do their year
in
> hell and he return. Visions haunt me every day, not of the nightmares
of
war
> but of the steady consistency with which my Marines faced their
> responsibilities, and of how uncomplaining most of them were in the
face
of
> constant danger. The salty, battle-hardened 20-year-olds teaching
green
> 19-year-olds the intricate lessons of the hostile battlefield. The
unerring
> skill of the young squad leaders as we moved through unfamiliar
villages
and
> weed-choked trails in the black of night. The quick certainty when a
fellow
> Marine was wounded and needed help. Their willingness to risk their
lives
to
> save other Marines in peril. To this day it stuns me that their own
> countrymen have so completely missed the story of their service, lost
in
the
> bitter confusion of the war itself.
>
> Like every military unit throughout history we had occasional
laggards,
> cowards, and complainers. But in the aggregate, these Marines were the
> finest people I have ever been around. It has been my privilege to
keep up
> with many of them over the years since we all came home. One finds in
them
> very little bitterness about the war in which they fought. The most
common
> regret, almost to a man, is that they were not able to do more for
each
> other and for the people they came to help.
>
> It would be redundant to say that I would trust my life to these men.
> Because I already have, in more ways than I can ever recount. I am
alive
> today because of their quiet, unaffected heroism, such valor
epitomizes
the
> conduct of Americans at war from the first days of our existence. That
the
> conduct of Americans at war from the first days of our existence. That
the
> boomer elites can canonize this sort of conduct in our fathers
generation
> conscious, continuing travesty.
>
> *******
>
>
> Former Secretary of the Navy James Webb was awarded the Navy Cross,
Silver
> Star, and Bronze Star medals for heroism as a Marine in Vietnam. His
novels
> include The Emperor's General and Fields of Fire.