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West Point Class of 1969

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Suzanne Rice

Apr 22 2024

Europe – Over Three Decades

From: Scott Wallace

(1983-1988, 1992-1994, 2001-2003)

     I had the privilege of serving in various US Army positions in Europe (principally Germany) over 9 years.  Each of my tours was in a different decade, and upon reflection, each was a dramatically different phase of European and American history. 

     I served in the Second Armored Cavalry Regiment (2d ACR) from 1983 to 1988, serving at both the squadron and regimental level.  They were the days of the Cold War and the tension between the west and the Warsaw Pact ebbed and flowed with the political climate on both sides of the ocean.  Yet, some degree of tension was always present.  The Regiment assumed operational control of the divisional cavalry squadrons of the Third Infantry Division and the 1st Armored Division for the purpose of border surveillance, conducted from six remote camps along the West German border with East Germany and Czechoslovakia. 

east/west Germany border
East/West German border

     During the period, military alerts and deployments which practiced movement to initial defensive positions were common.  One never really knew if the call to deploy was for practice or the real deal.  Each call was taken seriously, and from our positions along the border there was the realization that any provocation by the Warsaw Pact would be ours to deal with as best we could until other deploying formations were in position.

     The Cold War would turn hot on occasion, if only briefly.  I vividly recall three incidents, in particular.  Once, in late October 1985, one of our Regimental helicopters was on patrol along the border when a Czech jet aircraft fired upon it, subsequently claiming that the helicopter had violated the border and was thus a viable target (our detailed analysis proved the Czechs to be absolutely wrong).  I was surprised when much of our reporting of the incident showed up on the front page of the New York Times … verbatim.  A second incident was relatively benign, but interesting none the less as a Czech pilot flew his helicopter over the border into West Germany and asked for political asylum. We kept the pilot and gave back the helicopter after a thorough look to see if there was anything of intelligence value.  My final recollection was the death of a West German civilian who was shot and killed in 1987 by Czech border guards as he took a Sunday stroll in the normally bucolic woods near the border.  As a result, and in response, diplomatic relations between West Germany and Czechoslovakia remained suspended for almost a year.

American posts in 1987

     I left Germany in 1988 bound for the Navy War College never expecting there to be anything but an Iron curtain separating east and west on the European continent.  I watched in amazement, along with much of the world, from my seat at the War College in late 1989 as the Berlin Wall fell and the Warsaw Pact began to crumble.

     After a tour at the Army’s National Training Center at Fort Irwin, I returned to Germany in 1992 to assume command of the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment in Fulda, Germany.  My predecessor in command was Colonel Skip Bacevich… also, from the USMA Class of 1969.  This tour in Germany was different …. very different from my previous experience.  West and East Germany had reunified, hence there were no border operations or continuous patrolling of a sometimes-hostile line of separation.

     Our future in Germany was uncertain as the United States government wrestled with how to take advantage of the “peace dividend” afforded it by the fall of the USSR.  In time, it became clear that many US forces stationed in Germany would redeploy stateside, thus the mission of the Regiment shifted from combat readiness to taking care of soldiers, families and equipment in retrograde.

     The city of Fulda and its government officials had been exceptionally gracious hosts over the many years of US stationing.  Thus, in addition to our obligation to our soldiers and their families, some of our time had to be devoted to saying sincere and heartfelt thanks to our hosts.   We held farewell ceremonies in each of the host cities of Wildflecken, Bad Hersfeld and Fulda.  Perhaps our most meaningful farewell was a joint German/American evening church service held in the Fulda Dom followed by a torchlight parade of American soldiers through the old city of Fulda …. Thus, symbolizing the end of the US presence.

Fulda Dom
Inside the Fulda Dom

 To this day, the Fulda German-American Friendship Club remains active as does the German museum located at OP Alpha, the Regiment’s old border camp near Fulda. 

     I was the last 11th ACR Commander in Europe.  We closed down the Regiment in a simple ceremony in Downs Barracks in Fulda on 14 April 1994.  At the time there were 11 officers and soldiers assigned to once-proud 5000-man Regiment. I left Germany in April 1994 never expecting to return. But …. return I did. 

     I assumed Command of the Fifth US Corps (V Corps) in Heidelberg, Germany in July, 2001.  The Corps was a major US European headquarters with the mission of maintaining the combat readiness of forward-deployed formations within the Command. 

     One might recall that from the period of mid-1991 until late 2001 the Balkans imploded with multiple wars of independence, insurgencies and ethnic conflicts associated with weakening control (and ultimate dissolution) of Yugoslavia.  The United Nations stepped in with a peacekeeping force, of which the US was a part, designed to enforce negotiated cease fire agreements and to separate the belligerents. Thus, in addition to our combat readiness training, we were obligated to prepare the subordinate Divisions of the Corps (1st Infantry Division and 1st Armored Division) for peacekeeping operations in the Balkans. 

     The unthinkable happened and everything changed on 11 September 2001.  We found out about the attack on the United States during a leadership seminar I was hosting at the Community Club in Heidelberg.  The training focus of the seminar quickly shifted to force protection as I directed my Commanders to return to their home stations, upgrade their security measures and stand by for further orders. 

     There was an immediate and overwhelming voice of support from every community in Germany.  The main gate to Campbell Barracks in Heidelberg (the Corps’ headquarters) became almost impenetrable … not due so much to enhanced security, as due to the throngs of German civilians demonstrating in support of America and the flowers, wreaths and candles they left in their wake. 

     The V Corps began planning in earnest during the winter of 2001, eventually deploying to the sands of Kuwait in 2002, then on to Baghdad and beyond in 2003.  But that is an altogether different story.

     From Cold War border operations to the American drawdown in Europe to deploying from Germany to the Middle East … no writer of contemporary fiction could write a more unlikely or less believable story.

Written by Suzanne Rice · Categorized: By Scott Wallace

Mar 26 2024

A Surreal Sequel to the Surreal Story – 1992

trip to Moscow

Prior to the Moscow trip we spent almost 3 months commuting to DC to brief all of the politicians (and there were many) who thought they should be involved in this endeavor. I thought I should start by giving my West Point classmate, Bob Kimmitt, a head’s up as he was an Under Secretary of State at that time. I obtained an appointment and after passing a platoon of administrative assistants, was directed to Bob’s 7th floor office. The office was so big I had to have a ground guide to help me find his desk at the other end of the room. The desk was so big it looked like a small aircraft carrier. Confirmation that I was now firmly in the world of politicians (forgive me, Bob).

     In addition to the many Senators and House members we also had to visit the White House and brief Brent Scowcroft, Bush 1 National Security advisor. Most of you may know that Scowcroft was a ‘47 USMA grad (the year most of us were born). Unlike most of the folks we encountered in DC he was a complete gentleman. 

Red Square

     Our hotel (The Metropol) was an old Czarist era hotel now managed by a Swiss company. It was located at one end of Red Square. As the sun set very late in July, we would take a walk each night after the long incarceration in cigarette smoke and vodka-filled rooms to try and clear our heads. Each night the square was now filled with average Russians (denied access under the communist regime) who, upon hearing our English language conversations, approached us to happily practice their English and see real “Americans”. Each night there was construction activity at the end of Red Square by St. Basil’s Cathedral. It looked like they were setting up a temporary stage for some sort of live entertainment. Every night was further progress. We asked the Russian people that stopped to talk to us what the stage was for.  They exclaimed that this was really an exciting event-the first ever non-military event ever in Red Square. It was a stage for a week-long show including the Russian Ballet, the symphony and several Russian Rock bands. We continued to ask the purpose of the show and they finally revealed that it was to celebrate the birth of the United States!

     So, we had to get our heads around the fact that the first non-military event in Red Square was a July Forth celebration for the United States. Did I mention surreal?

Moscow River

     The President of the Russian Academy of Science (E.P. Velikhov) decided to take us all to his summer dacha on the Moscow River.  The area was a secure area where the former Soviet Union apparatchik had large multiple summer houses in an enclosed compound area. The entire compound was surrounded by a 12-foot-high green fence with camouflaged guard houses and machine gun nests strategically sited. All of the houses had now been taken over by the Yeltsin government. Yeltsin’s summer house was about ½ mile from the house we visited. The house we visited was over 100 years old (think Dr. Zhivago) and had never been painted. I guessed around 10 thousand square feet. The communists had added a separate brick private theater, seating about 80-100. They also added a full-size indoor Olympic pool. All of these areas were in an incredibly poor state of repair.

Pound the Table

     We spent the entire week in conference rooms negotiating the most trivial points. It was an exercise in stamina and patience.  We met in multiple conference rooms which were all very large with enormous conference tables. Our team was 7 people, and they always had a group of 20-30. We were stuck on some point late one afternoon waiting to meet with Yeltsin to give him a progress report (or lack thereof) when one of their people started pounding on the table with his shoe! He must have been a protégé of Khrushchev! We were so shocked that we completely lost the point under discussion!

Private Jet Flight

     As part of our welcome, we were flown from a small airport outside Moscow to the city of Ekaterinburg, which contained a facility for manufacturing nuclear weapons.

flight for Moscow trip

The Flight from Moscow (airportia.com)

     Being a former pilot, I was skeptical of our aircraft. It was a YAK executive jet (I use the term loosely). About the size of a large Gulfstream. By our standards it would normally hold about 10 passengers. This one was rigged with about 30 tubular aluminum seats (think lawn chairs) and looked like it was 30 years old. To my surprise, it actually took off. I received permission from our FSB (former KGB) handlers to go up and talk to the pilots. Two burly guys seating in a cockpit that looked like something from the Wright Brothers era. They only had one headset that they swapped back and forth depending on who was manning the radios. No evidence of any checklists or emergency manuals. There was one strip of toilet paper stuck on a radio knob. The toilet paper had the enroute radio frequencies written on it. This was significant as this was the only toilet paper we saw on this overnight trip. We stayed in another communist big wig compound but there was no hot water or toilet paper. We used the Russian equivalent of a Sears catalogue.

American Embassy

Moscow trip

     The American Embassy and the Ambassador (Robert Strauss) had been informed of our visit, so we were invited to the embassy open house on July 4th. We were excited to go but could not get in as there was a line of Russians about 3 blocks long to get in, such was the euphoria over the new relationship.

Arbat Pedestrian Street

     One night after the interminable meetings, we went with our American interpreter to a restaurant on the Arbat pedestrian mall (in Moscow). We did not know that this restaurant was now owned by a newly emerging Oligarch/Russian Mafia type.  Our American (Russian-born) interrupter had a bit to drink and started to criticize some of the wall art. When we left and were walking to our cars, the restaurant owner sent 3 guys to intercept us and to demand that our interrupter go back and apologize for his rude comments. They had handguns in their belts. We had to insist that our interrupter go back and apologize, which he did. Once he came back and we got to our cars, he yelled at our drivers to get their weapons (Uzis in the car trunks) and follow him back to the restaurant. We were able to get him under control and calm the situation down. Not a fun time.

Allied Corporate Jet to DC

     At that time Russia had no hard currency so they relied on their new “western partners” to cover expenses outside Russia. We had invited The Minister of Atomic Energy (V. N. Michaylow) and his entourage for a reciprocal visit to Allied and then on to DC to make the political rounds with their embassy. After their visit with us in NJ, I arranged for them to travel via one of our corporate jets to DC. Such was their addiction that they ignored the “No Smoking” rules on the plane and chained smoked all the way to DC. Fortunately, I could not travel with them and remained at Allied. However, my pilots called me from DC to let me know that the Russians incessant smoking clogged up the on-board air filter and it had to be cleaned before returning to Allied. My pilots also warned me that they would resign before flying any more Russians anywhere! The Russians flew back to Moscow from DC on Aeroflot.

The Metropol Hotel

     We were quartered in the historic Metropol Hotel at the end of Red Square. This was a Czarist era hotel and had been completely reconditioned by a Swiss company.

trip to Moscow hotel
The Metropol Hotel in Moscow

As distinguished guests, the hotel General Manager spent a great deal of time with us. He was a Swiss national and worked for the Swiss company that had the management contract for the hotel. The Russians had absolutely no idea how to manage a world class hotel. The Swiss manager regaled us with tales of some of his trials and tribulations. Every day the Swiss management company had to fly in a completely loaded 747 with produce (plenty of produce in Russia but no roads or trains to transport fresh produce to Moscow), supplies of lamps, telephones, bed linen, towels, soap, shampoo etc. The Russian employees had never been exposed to such high-quality items so there was an almost daily shortage due to employee theft. They had to bring in trained Swiss/European workers to even get the restoration of the hotel completed as there were no skilled Russian trade craftsmen.  

     I have enjoyed many different experiences in my life, but I have to admit this was one of the most unusual and challenging in so many ways. I do not think I am alone in saying that the Russians are in fact different-for whatever reason. I am not sure that they will ever make it to the world peace table.

Written by Suzanne Rice · Categorized: By Scott Nix

Mar 26 2024

A Surreal Story – 1992

     As most of you know my post-West Point service was in the US Air Force as a B-52 pilot. At that time, the B-52 was one of the primary components of the nuclear deterrence arsenal. B-52s around the country would sit on alert ready to be airborne at a moment’s notice. Crews stood alert in shelters within running distance of the aircraft themselves. The aircraft were loaded with nuclear weapons and the targets were pre-determined. The crew had detailed maps of targets and routes penetrating Soviet airspace which they studied diligently.

B-52 Stratofortress

     After I resigned my commission in the USAF, I relocated to Silicone Valley and began my career in the infant laser industry (surprising as WP physics was not my best subject). I remained in the laser industry essentially for the rest of my working career with one major exception. While in the laser industry I was recruited by Allied-Signal (large multi-national conglomerate now known as Honeywell) to manage a division growing synthetic crystals that certain solid-state lasers required as the lasing medium. I spent the next 4 years in this position, and I must have done a creditable job as the company asked me to take over their nuclear division which made a critical component (uranium hexafluoride-UF6) of the commercial nuclear fuel cycle (commercial fuel only-no weapons).

     Fast forward to a different world right after the Soviet Union collapsed and the world was left with a pro-America, pro-democracy, pro-capitalism Russia (’91-’92).

And now the Surreal Story starts.

     The wall is down, and Russia under Yeltsin is embracing capitalism, democracy and the United States.  The welcome mat was open for American companies to come to Russia and form joint-ventures (JV) to teach the Russians capitalism.

Russian President Boris Yeltsin

     The Russian Ministry of Atomic Energy (Minatom) and the US Department of Energy (DOE) decided to work together to form a commercial joint-venture to take the highly enriched uranium out of the former Soviet Union warheads and dilute (using fluorine gas) the highly enriched uranium down to a much lower level capable of being used in commercial energy producing nuclear reactors. Truly Swords into Plowshares. At that point politics entered the scene as the Russians were growing weary of having the US government appear to dictate their capitalism efforts. Therefore, the Russians informed the DOE that they wanted to form this JV with an American commercial company and sell the now diluted uranium commercial reactor fuel to the world market.

     At that time my division of Allied was the largest producer of fluorine and UF6 gas in the world.  The DOE quietly asked us if we could take the lead in working with Minatom to form the JV on a commercial basis with DOE in the background.  The DOE insisted they be involved but not appear to be the lead in any JV.

     We put a plan together and presented it to the Allied CEO.  He reluctantly went along with the concept and supported me by putting the Allied government relations staff in DC at my disposal.

     I had minimal marching orders, the most significant one being the CEO pointing a finger in my face and telling me I could do pretty much what I wanted but under NO circumstances was I to get Allied in trouble with the DOE/US government. My continued employment with Allied depended entirely upon my obeying this edict. Beast Barracks all over again! Needless to say, I had absolutely NO interest in this endeavor, but orders had been issued.

     With the help of Allied’s government relations office in DC we formed the team. Max Kampleman, a former Ambassador-at-Large for the Strategic Arms limitations talks was our first selection. We then selected 2 members of a company with extensive experience in working with DOE/AEC nuclear fuel licensed plants. We also hired a Russian-born US citizen whose parents had immigrated to the US. He was fluent in Russian and English, and his father had connections with the Russian Academy of Science.

     After coordinating with the US (read politicians) and Russian government (Academy of Science and Ministry of Atomic Energy), we flew to Moscow first week of July, ’92.

To say that this trip for me personally was surreal was an understatement. My mission in the USAF was to destroy the country I was now visiting to form a joint business venture.  

     In any case, we approached our mission with dedication (if not enthusiasm). We spent the whole first week of July in negotiations and traveling to previously “secret” towns where nuclear weapons were manufactured. We were hosted and feted by the Yeltsin government and treated like distinguished guests.

     We obtained agreement of a draft joint venture document between ourselves and the Russian Academy of Science and The Ministry of Atomic Energy. This draft was finally executed by all parties. We returned in triumph (see attached period newspaper articles) **.  However, as is the case the majority of the time, the government forces involved (read politicians and bureaucrats) decided they did not really want commercial enterprise running the show. Consequently, DOE and Minatom took over the effort and formed another agreement to recover the war head uranium. To my knowledge everything stalled at this point and in spite of multiple announcements there was no significant highly enriched uranium recovery.

     I have intentionally downplayed the difficulty, serious and often contentious negotiations that occurred. I have also not referred to individuals by name unless they were public figures at that time. 

     At the time, this was a water-shed event and it would take volumes to relate all of the unique things that occurred. A major opportunity lost considering where we are today in our relationship with Russia. I have included several trip vignettes in Part 2 to provide some insights into the uniqueness of this endeavor.

**A newspaper on a table

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Written by Suzanne Rice · Categorized: By Scott Nix

Mar 10 2024

Adventures in Spain – 1976

    Choosing the Air Force on Branch Night would take me to places different than my classmates, doing different things. I joined twenty-five of our classmates who went into the Air Force at graduation. When the Air Force assignment officer visited West Point, I asked him what does the Air Force do? This was because I was not aviation-qualified, and the engineering intern program was no longer. He said I could go to graduate school and get a master’s in electrical engineering (MSEE). My first duty assignment was to the University of Illinois, living on John Street in Champaign, Illinois. After graduation with my MSEE degree, I was assigned to Hanscom Air Force Base in Bedford, Massachusetts as a test engineer for Tactical Weather Systems. It was not an AF requirement that I knew Spanish before going to Spain, so I learned it on the job with the Spanish Officers especially at their Officer’s Club. My next assignment was to Torrejon Air Base in Madrid, Spain.

John in Benidorm, Spain

My last assignment before resigning, and entering civilian life, was in Air Force Security Service at Kelly Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas.

     As part of my Air Force career, I was assigned to a joint Spanish Air Force project at Torrejon Air Base in Madrid, Spain. The U.S. had an agreement with Spain for use of Air Force and Navy bases in Spain. At the time, Spain was not a part of NATO. As a part of this U.S. agreement with Spain, we were upgrading Spain’s Air Control & Warning System (AC&W). This project included upgrading radars to the seven radar sites in Spain to more modern systems.

Radar Site in Spain

As part of the upgrade, we were installing a new Identification Friend or Foe (IFF) system to identify friendly military aircraft. This IFF system included new modes to accurately identify a friendly aircraft. A snag came up as to how to evaluate the new IFF system, as Spain did not have any aircraft equipped with the advanced IFF system. Fortunately, there was a U.S. Strategic Air Command (SAC) tanker wing based at Torrejon that was equipped with the modern IFF system. I went with a Spanish Air Force Major to request a mission off the south coast of Spain with one of the US SAC KC135 tankers. SAC agreed and we scheduled a mission for an evening two weeks later for the KC135 to fly away from the radar site and then return on a reciprocal course using the advanced IFF system. The mission went off without a hitch and the Spanish accepted the new IFF equipment. However, the next morning the Spanish officers burst into my office to tell me that Libya had launched fighters to intercept the KC135 and see what was going on. The Libyan fighters just flew around the KC135 while it was in international airspace. SAC was concerned about this report. [JAC1] It was an actual launch by Libya to see what an Air Force plane was doing near their borders, albeit still in international space.

     Another interesting thing was the testing of the new Electronic Counter Measures (ECM) Anti-Chaff receiver. Chaff is small pieces of aluminum that confuse radar systems. Military aircraft carry the chaff in pods on their wings that are internal to the aircraft.  When a threat is identified, the chaff is dispensed to confuse the radar on incoming missiles. Again, neither the Spanish nor United States Air Force had the proper chaff in Europe. Their chaff was designed for Russian radars. Belgium had the chaff, but would not fly in Spain, as Spain was not part of NATO at the time. I did locate an ECM testing aircraft at Griffiss Air Force Base in New York. I arranged for them to come over and test the Spanish system. When we did tests at Griffiss AFB, we did it in the late-night hours in order not to disrupt civilian air traffic. The Spanish wanted to test in the daytime. The test was planned for the radar site near Madrid in the afternoon. Spain put out a notice their radar coverage would be out for the Madrid region for the afternoon of the test. Again, the test went well, and the Spanish accepted the system. We never heard of any disruption.

Hard at Work

I really enjoyed working with the Spanish Air Force on this international project. The Spanish Air Force awarded me and the Program Manager, Colonel. Rufus D. Hutcheson (USMA 1954) the Spanish Cross for Aeronautical Merit. This is the highest Spanish military award given to a non-Spanish citizen.

John with Spanish Air Force Officers

     Even seven years after graduation, I was still the youngest graduate on Founders Day at Torrejon AB, Spain. As we all know, the youngest graduate must give a speech on the state of the Academy. There were few West Pointers at my assignments.  I gave the youngest graduate speeches at the University of Illinois, a couple of times at Hanscom Air Force Base (commanded by Major General Albert R. Shiely Jr, class of 1943), and a couple of times at Torrejon AB. Finally, I attended Founders Day at Fort Sam Houston where there were plenty of younger graduates.


 [JAC1]It was an actual launch by Libya to see what a AF plane was doing near there borders, albeit still in international air space.

Written by Suzanne Rice · Categorized: By John Champagne

Mar 10 2024

Country – The War – 2023

From Jim McDonough, THE WAR – 2023

Jim McDonough Vietnam

Speech given at the Army-Navy Club, July 2023, in remembrance of 50th anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War

     How do you talk about a war that ran from the early 1960s to 1973 – or from a larger perspective from the defeat of the French at Dien Bin Phu 1954 to the fall of Saigon in 1975 — and do so in only a matter of minutes?

The answer is you can’t. 

map of Vietnam war

     I can only summarize that it was both a long and hard war — one that not only cost the lives of 58,281 Americans but when we include military and civilian deaths throughout Indochina most tallies regardless of national source put the total for all at over 3 million dead.

     For America, it also cost us more than 300,000 wounded, 75,000 of whom were severely disabled and 23,000 of whom were 100 % disabled, a result of vastly improved medical care along with evacuation of the severely wounded by helicopter saving many who in past wars almost surely would have died.  Nonetheless, the broken bodies of those that did survive caused them to pay a price for the rest of their lives.

medevac helicopter vietnam
MEDEVAC Helicopter Evacuating the Wounded

     At home, the consequences of the war tore the country apart.  Not at first, but from 1965 on as the months became years, the ever-continuing casualties at ever higher numbers led to political and social acrimony and left a divide among our citizenry that may yet take time to heal. 

     Over 9 million Americans served in uniform over the time officially defined as the Vietnam War.  Not quite 3 million of them served in Vietnam.  At its peak, more than a half million American troops were in country.  All were faced with a hostile environment: Anti-aircraft weapons, missiles, rockets, mortars, automatic weapons fire, mines, and so on. Added to the plate of dangers were ambushes, sappers, tunnels, jungles, mountains, rice-paddies, monsoons, heat, leeches, insects, jungle rot and for many the hell holes reserved for prisoners of war.    There were many ways to suffer and die.

2 battalion 9th marines
2 Battalion 9th Marines on the Move in 1967

      It was both a conventional war and an insurgency of the most violent proportions.  Hardened terrorists and assassins infiltrated the populated areas; Viet Cong treachery slew tens of thousands of their own countrymen and – when the opportunity arose – many of us as well.  Booby traps were everywhere, designed to kill and to maim.  Wherever you walked you knew your next step could be your last.  They caused over 17% of US casualties and 11% of our killed in action.  And the North Vietnamese Army was ever-present throughout, reinforcing the local Viet Cong in mass at regiment and division levels, ready to strike at isolated American and allied units whenever the opportunity presented itself.

       By 1967, as casualties climbed to several hundred killed a week with no end in sight, the support of the American public waned.  Domestic hostility toward the war — often fanned by both a sensationalized and critical press — rose to the breaking point.  Defeatism followed, punctuated by Tet of 1968 — a massive country-wide battle which we won in the field but was portrayed differently in the press at home.  The now open hostility against the war at home turned bit by bit toward America’s fighting forces as well.

THE SOLDIERS, SAILORS, AIRMEN, AND MARINES

     They were young, younger than any of our previous wars.  Sixty-one percent were less than 21 years old.  11,500 were less than 19.  The average age of those killed was 22.

     And contrary to myth, the majority – two-thirds in fact – were volunteers, not draftees.  Not surprising when you think about it.  These were the sons of the ‘greatest generation’ come of age.  Their fathers fought for the country in WW II; they would do the same in Vietnam.

     After the initial deployment of units at the outset of the war, America’s warriors arrived as individuals, without the benefit of familiar faces alongside them.  And they arrived suddenly, departing the United States one day and arriving the next.  The crucible – and the shock — of battle came quickly.

     They would serve for one year (13 months if you were a Marine, a virtual eternity if you were a prisoner of war).  But in that one year, they were likely to see a great deal of combat.  It has been estimated that the average infantryman in Vietnam would experience 240 days of combat; the average for the Pacific Theater in WWII was 40 days, over a stretch of four years. 

     Many in this room no doubt experienced one or more of the big battles:  Ia Drang, Dak To, Khe Sahn, Tet, Hue, Hamburger Hill, the Easter Offensive, Rolling Thunder, Lam Son 719 (the greatest helicopter meatgrinder of the entire war), Ripcord and many, many more.  But for most it was the grueling routine of patrols, ambushes, search and destroy missions, convoy runs, landing zone insertions, firebase defenses (such as the disaster at Mary Ann) and supporting our Vietnamese allies that took their toll of misery and death.  What were the chances of surviving unscathed in a line unit?  In my own opinion, very low.  Consider our NCO corps, particularly the line sergeants who served multiple tours.  By the end of the war, we had to rebuild it, so many were gone.

     But all who served, no matter the rank, did their job: stoically, endlessly, and with surprisingly good humor.  They loved their country, our country, but they fought to stay alive, and they fought for each other.  The objective was to make it home, for home was America, family, safety, and a future.

THE FAMILIES

    As in all wars, the families suffered along with their loved ones as they went off to serve in the combat zone.  The pain of separation, the fear of what might happen, and far too often the notification that something bad had happened – all of this was a difficult cross to bear. 

     The Army at first had neglected to prepare itself for mass casualties.  The costly 1965 Battle of the Ia Drang revealed a greatly lacking method of notifying the next of kin.  In the Columbus, Georgia area where most of the troops in that battle had departed from, the notifications of those killed in action came in to Western Union in the middle of the night.  Under a time deadline to deliver the sad news to family members, Western Union used the local taxi company to go to individual houses and notify the families.  Many of the latter lived in the same neighborhoods as doorbells were rung by cab drivers burdened with carrying the fateful message.  The shock of the delivery soon reverberated throughout the area and the sight of a yellow cab coming up the street evoked sheer terror.

     This was eventually fixed, but nothing could stop the continual drumbeat of bad news.  At its peak, the war in Vietnam took over 500 hundred American lives in a single week.  In the week I graduated from West Point in 1969, in a war that I assumed in 1965 would be over by then, over 250 were killed.  Long since, servicemen’s families no longer resided in one place; each had become an individual island of worry awaiting the return of a son, a father, or a husband.  Family structured support systems to carry the wives, children, and parents through the ordeal hardly existed and where they did were only shallowly structured.

     Families could and did follow the nightly news on Vietnam with grave anticipation.  And they could see the growing unrest at home, the demonstrations and then the riots in the streets, the rebellion of our young, their chants, their mocking, and their hateful commentary, amplified by the press and sometimes reinforced by the same. 

     Worst of all, they began to see shows of support for our enemies and with it the purposeful and hateful denigration of those Americans who were engaged in direct combat and even those held in brutal captivity.  All of this made for great theater, except for the families already gripped with concerns who now not only felt abandoned but even betrayed by many of their countrymen.

      It was a crushing, and bitter time.  Yes, most of our warriors did come home, thank God.  But the ordeal for both veteran and family was not over.  

THE ROAD BACK

     The early years were difficult.  Vietnam was hard but in some ways the rejections and the slights received from fellow citizens were harder.  Many myths developed about the instability of the Vietnam veteran:  He drank too much, had become addicted to drugs, secretly harbored memories of war crimes, was a maddened time bomb ready to explode.   He was now a crazed killer who never should have gone off to fight in the first place.  A general characterization was that he must either have been driven by a lust for war or an outright fool for not finding one of the many ways to beat the system and avoid serving in “that” war.  In short, he was not to be trusted as a worthy member of civilized society.

     Most of this was balderdash.  97% of Vietnam veterans were honorably discharged from the military.  85% successfully transitioned to civilian life.  They were less likely to be incarcerated and more likely to be employed than their counterparts who had not served; over time their mean income was 20% higher.  In virtually every area they showed their merit.

     Not that the road back wasn’t bumpy.  During the first five years after discharge, suicide rates among veterans were almost twice that of those that did not serve, perhaps due in part to the sense of isolation from society.  I am reminded of the poem by Rudyard Kipling about the British soldier, represented universally as Tommy Atkins, at the turn of the 19th century:

For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Chuck him out, the brute!”
But it’s “Saviour of ‘is country” when the guns begin to shoot;
An’ it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ anything you please;
An’ Tommy ain’t a bloomin’ fool — you bet that Tommy sees!

     Our veterans saw and felt the pain as well.  But they, and their families, fought through it all and made a proud place for themselves.  Over time their suicide rate overall has fallen significantly below that of their contemporaries.  Today, 91% of Vietnam vets report they are glad that they served.  American society has changed its opinion as well, appearing, most remarkably, in the guise of ‘stolen valor’.  I said earlier that about 3 million of us served in Vietnam.           

     Yet according to the census taken in 2000, by which time many Vietnam vets had passed from this earth, approximately 13 million Americans claimed to be Vietnam veterans.  What was once looked down upon had now become a sought-after status symbol.  Imitation, however false, remains the greatest source of flattery.

      The Vietnam veteran and his family sought no special status.  If they sought anything, it was the simple recognition that they had served their country, each as valiantly as the other.  For the years that recognition did not come their way, they yet found quiet solace in one another and in their own knowledge that they had done their duty.  Today, their sacrifice is fully noted.  So, I say to them and to all of you, “Thank you for your Service.”

Vietnam Vets Saluting Their Fallen Comrades at the Vietnam Wall

Written by Suzanne Rice · Categorized: By James McDonough

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