Hey, it's 104 degrees, (40C)
and if that doesn't wipe you out, a jammed weapon will.
Remember, guys, keep it clean and keep your head low.
"Hi, Mom. Well, I'm fine today.
And I hope that you're in good shape also.
Today I am swimming, washing and taking in the sun.
The beach is great.
The sand is white and the sky is clear.
Boy, I wish every day was like this,
then I wouldn't have any problems while I'm here."
American casualties in Vietnam,
killed and wounded now exceed 300,000.
More than 39,000 killed
and more than 258,000 wounded.
"Dear folks, this is your on-the-spot correspondent
in the Big 'Nam reporting.'
"Hi, honey, I had a hell of a day yesterday."
"Dear Sue, thank you for the wingtips.
Only one question: Where do I wear them in Vietnam?"
"Darling, I am sitting down to write of my love for you
and the horrors of war."
"Actually, I'm writing because I have to, or go out of my mind.
Things happen over here you just can't..."
"Mom, I appreciate all of your letters.
For a while as I read your letters, I'm a normal person.
I'm not killing people or worried about being killed."
"Darling, believe me, I try not to skip a day in writing you.
Whether or not I get a letter determines if it's a good day or not."
This is London... Switzerland calling...
...South America...
And here is the news.
Three Communist P.T. boats attacked an American destroyer
off the coast of Vietnam yesterday.
And today, President Johnson's response was hard and tough.
He has ordered the U.S. Navy to continue patrolling there,
and if they are attacked to destroy their attackers.
To any armed attack upon our forces
we shall reply.
To any in Southeast Asia who ask our help
in defending their freedom, we shall give it.
You can't win in Asia.
So I am not going to go along with this kind of a program
in South Vietnam, at least with my vote,
that in my judgment is going to kill needlessly
untold numbers of American boys, and for nothing.
"Dear Dad, well, here it is.
We've been told that our whole company will be shipping out to Vietnam
after advanced infantry training.
Our company commander and our battalion and brigade commanders
told us there's no sense in trying to fool ourselves, we're going for sure.
The only thing that makes me mad
is how do they expect you to tell your parents."
"I don't mind going, but there are some guys here who just won't make it.
And I don't think they'll make it out alive.
Your son, Bob.
P.S., tell Mom not to worry.
It's nothing I can't handle."
All right, settle down, settle down.
"Dear Uncle and Aunt,
some people wonder why Americans are in Vietnam.
The way I see the situation,
I would rather fight and stop Communists in South Vietnam
than in Kincaid, Humboldt,
Blue Mound or Kansas City.
And that's just about what it would end up being.
The price for victory is high when life cannot be replaced.
But I think it is far better to fight and die for freedom,
than to live under oppression and fear.
Your nephew, Jack."
- What state are you from? - Charlotte, North Carolina, sir.
North Carolina? Charlotte, yeah,
- I know it well. Good luck to you, lad. - Thank you, sir.
"Dear John, well, in 360 days I'll be home.
Try not to worry too much about me.
I know that will be difficult,
but it doesn't do anyone any good.
Love, Bobby."
"Chris, I finally got to my unit yesterday.
Our mission is to find V.C. and kill them.
I should be operating like this for the next two months
before I get a chance to take a shower and sleep in a bed.
What a life.
There are absolutely no comforts in our job.
I carry nothing but a razor and a bar of soap for comfort.
We wear the only clothes we have
and wash them in rivers and streams as we cross them.
You were right.
I managed to get myself right in the middle of it all."
"Dear Tom, hi, how are you?
I hope all is well at home.
Everything's okay here.
My whole squad is all a bunch of screwballs.
Eddie's running around with an insect bomb
cursing the bugs.
The mosquitoes that come out at night are man-eaters,
but the insect repellent keeps them off.
It's safe in the daytime. We stand out in the open or work on the bunker.
We can run up and down the hill with no worries.
But at night we've got to stay in the bunkers, as snipers sneak in.
Dennis."
"P.S., send some Kool-Aid.
The water here tastes like shit."
I think I got a booby trap here.
Roger Whiskey, I have a booby trap...
trip wire tied onto a branch,
grenade on the end of the trip wire. Spoon is out.
"Dear Mom and Dad, the way we move without contact
I begin to wonder if the V.C. are even out there.
All the time you know they are.
The great frustration is that they don't come out and fight."
Be careful now!
Watch yourself.
"Dear Red, anyone over here who walks
more than 50 feet through elephant grass
should automatically get a Purple Heart.
Try to imagine grass possessing razor-sharp edges
eight to 15' high, so thick as to cut visibility to one yard.
Then try to imagine walking through it
while all around you are men possessing the latest automatic weapons
who desperately want to kill you.
You'd be amazed at how much a man can age on one patrol."
"We're all scared.
One can easily see this emotion in the eyes of each individual.
One might hide it with his mouth,
while another might hide it with his actions.
But there is no way around it.
We are all scared."
Look up in the tree! Look up in the tree!
Aw, shit!
He's over there!
I'll get you, son of a bitch!
Go!
"My dearest Bev,
for the last week we've been waiting for an attack,
and finally it came in full force.
Honey, I was never so scared in my whole life.
We got hit by 12 mortars and rockets.
A mortar landed about 30' from me.
And I was lucky enough to have my head down.
But the sergeant next to me didn't,
and I think he lost an eye."
I've been hit! Ahhh, I've been hit!
"This was my first real look at war.
And it sure was an ugly sight.
I helped carry some of the wounded away.
And, boy, I sure hope I don't have to do that again.
It was an experience you can never explain in a million words."
I've got a lot of pain in that left ankle.
That's a good sign.
It's that sharp pain you get when you've got nerves, you know?
It's that sharp nerve pain, burning, burning.
They're gonna do all they can to save that leg.
I know. I know there's not much left
because I was carrying that damn thing in my hands
all the way back.
I was afraid the whole thing was gonna come off.
I said, "Hell, they can't be right around in here."
So, I didn't call bombs and nap in on these people.
- Mm-hmm. - But that's where they were.
I'm sure now that that's where they were.
God damn it, I... I hate to put nap...
and...
and on these women and children.
I just didn't do it. I just said, "They can't be there."
"Dear Vern, I talked to Danny,
the man who lost his leg this morning.
He's a mean bastard.
I've never seen such bravery and guts before,
and I'm stunned by it.
You should have seen my men fight.
They were going after wounded men no one else'd go after.
You should have seen my brave men.
It'd give you goose-pimples."
This is Cam Ranh Bay on the South China Sea.
It is said to be one of the finest natural harbors in the world.
It will in time be the chief port of entry
for American men and materiel in Vietnam.
It is taking on a look of permanence.
And the activity going on all around
suggests that we have recognized
there is not going to be an easy, painless
or quick way out of this struggle.
And so, during the past year our military forces
have grown from 25,000
to nearly 200,000 men.
The possibility of 300,000 men here by spring
is now considered likely.
"Dear folks, car, bird, house, et cetera,
new jungle fatigues, boots, cooling fans,
typewriters, napkins, silverware,
grass seeds, all trickle into supply
and are dispersed as needed.
Jeez, you know,
this is an 'in' war,
one of the hippest things in this whole world.
I've read where officers were quoted as saying,
'This is the only war we've got.
Don't knock it.'
This war is not going to end
by any one single battle or combination of battles.
It could be a situation
that could drag out for some time.
Certainly, as the war gets more intense...
and I feel that it will in coming the months...
we will suffer more American casualties.
"Dearest Bev,
last night we had the V.C. all around us.
Bev, don't ever tell Mother this,
but at times I feel I will never come home.
The V.C. are getting much stronger.
So I think this war is going to get worse before it gets better.
The days are fairly peaceful.
But the nights are pure hell.
I look up at the stars
and it's so hard to believe that the same stars shine over you
in such a different world as you live in.
All my love, Al."
"Hello, dear folks.
It's going to be hard for me to write this,
but maybe it will make me feel better.
Yesterday my company was hit
while looking for V.C.
They told me that they needed someone to identify a boy
they'd just brought in.
It was very bad they said.
So I went into the tent
and there on the table was the boy.
His face was all cut up
and blood all over it.
His mouth was open.
His eyes were both open.
It was a mess.
I couldn't really identify him.
So I went outside
while they went through his stuff.
They found his I.D. card and dog tags.
I went in and they told me his name...
Rankin."
"I cried, 'No, God, it can't be.'
But sure enough,
after looking at his bloody face again,
I could see it was him.
It really hit me hard
because he was one of the nicest guys around.
He was one of my good friends.
No other K.I.A. or W.I.A. hit me like that.
I knew most of them,
but this was the first body I ever saw.
And being my friend, it was too much.
After I left the place I sat down and cried.
I couldn't stop it.
I didn't think I ever cried so much in my life.
I can still see his face now.
I'll never forget it.
Today the heavens cried for him.
It started raining at noon today
and has now finally just stopped
after 10 hours of the hardest rain I've ever seen.
Love, Richard."
What we've just seen, men fighting for their lives
in the jungles of South Vietnam,
is what has aroused such apprehension and debate
throughout the world.
War is brutal, and the reaction to it is strong.
This week hundreds of people demonstrated against it.
Others have voiced their concern by question and dissent.
Public opinion polls indicate
that the dissenters are in the minority,
but their number is growing,
and they are starting to take more positive actions.
On Saturday, a march to show solidarity
with American servicemen in Vietnam was held in New York City.
The marchers carried American flags.
Flags were hung from apartment house windows.
Against this background the battle continues,
and in it this week, 274 Americans were killed,
1,748 wounded, 18 listed as missing.
There's no end to the war in sight.
"Dear Ma,
Vietnam has my feelings on a seesaw.
This country is so beautiful.
When the sun is shining on the mountains,
farmers in their rice paddies with their water buffalo,
and palm trees, monkeys, birds,
and even the strange insects,
for a fleeting moment I'm not in a war zone at all,
just on vacation.
But still missing you and the family.
There are a few kids who hang around,
some with no parents.
I feel so sorry for them.
I do things to make them laugh, and they call me 'dinky dau.'
That means crazy."
- Okay! - Okay!
"I hope that's one reason why we're here,
to secure a future for them.
Your son, George."
"Dear Mom and Dad,
you know that joke about how hard it is to tell
the good guys from the bad guys over here?
Well, it's funny in Bronxville or Dorset, but it isn't over here.
The enemy in our area of operation
is a farmer by day and V.C. by night.
Every man we pick up says,
'Me Vietnamese number one.
V.C. number 10.'
So we have to let him go.
By the way, number one means real good,
and number 10 means real bad.
Other handy phrases are: 'titi,' very little;,
'boo koo,' which means very much;
'didi mow,' get out of here.
What more do you need to know?"
Didi mow. Go, go.
"Love always, Mike."
Roger. 1st Battalion's coming in.
All right!
Come on, get out of here.
Come on, get up!
"Dear Red,
the frightening thing about it all
is that it's so very easy to kill in war.
There's no remorse, no theatrical washing of the hands
to get rid of non-existent blood, not even any regrets.
Get killed because that little son of a bitch
is doing his best to kill you?
When it happens you're more afraid than you've ever been in your life.
And you desperately want to live
to go home, to get drunk,
or walk down the street on a date again."
"Dear Mom and Dad,
1st Cavalry moved in here a few weeks ago,
and what a rowdy bunch.
These guys have been out in the mud in the boonies for months.
They just wandered around staring at everything,
trying out all the chairs,
flushing the toilets.
It was funny to watch."
"But I guess when you've had to do without clean clothes,
good food and shelter for as long as they have
you might believe your eyes either.
Oh, God, it must be awful for them out there.
Love always, me."
"Dear Mom and Dad, and everyone...
oh, I had my first baptizing with Saigon tea."
"This is the usual approach of a bar hog.
You walk in and sit down at the bar.
Before you get to order a drink, a girl will be sitting next to you
and she'll begin with... 'Hello, what is your name?
Would you like a drink?' You order one.
Then she'll say, 'I've not see you here before.
You're very handsome.
You look young.
How old are you?'
They usually like you to be 21 and 23, but I tell them 19.
Then they say, 'You baby-san!'
Which means, 'Have you ever been to bed with a woman?"'
"A baby-san's a virgin. Ha, come on!"
I wish I could report to you
that the conflict is almost over.
This I cannot do.
We face more costs, more loss,
and more agony,
for the end is not yet.
I cannot promise you that it will come this year...
or come next year.
Our adversary still believes, I think, tonight
that he can go on fighting longer than we can,
and longer than we and our allies
will be prepared to stand up and resist.
Roger. If they come up to where you are,
I'll be going at them in the same direction.
I want to try to flank them.
That's why I'm asking what direction you're firing in.
It sounds to me like you're firing east. Over.
This is Elmo, did not copy. Repeat, over.
What direction are you firing in?
- Come in on the other flank. Over. - That's affirmative.
You can fire that way.
Negative! Don't fire any way. We're surrounded by friendlies.
Return incoming fire from there!
- Returning fire, sir! - What did he say?
Escort platoon, they're trying to overrun these woods.
"Dear Madeline,
it's good to have someone to tell your troubles to.
I can't tell them to my parents or Darlene 'cause they worry too much,
but I tell you truthfully I doubt if I'll come out of this alive.
In my original squad I'm the only one left unharmed."
"In my platoon there's only 13 of us.
It seems every day another young guy, 18 or 19 years old
like myself, is killed in action.
Please, help me, Mad.
I don't know if I should stop writing my parents and Darlene or what."
Come on!
"Oh, and one more favor,
I'd like the truth now.
Has Darlene been faithful to me?
I know she's dating other guys,
but does she still love me best?
See if it's God's will.
I have to make it out of Vietnam though,
because I'm lucky.
I hope.
Ha ha. Love, Ray."
Okay, watch out.
Okay, up!
I've got it.
"Dear Doug,
we were cut off from our base
and requested a helicopter evacuation with a priority.
We were all in sad shape now.
I know that at one point, my feet about to crack open,
my stomach knotted by hunger and diarrhea,
my back feeling like a mirror made of nerves shattered in a million pieces
by my flack jacket pack, and extra mortars and machine-gun ammo...
my hands a mass of hamburger from thorn cuts,
and my face a mass of welts from mosquitoes,
I desired greatly to throw down everything and sob.
I remember a captain,
an aviator, who observing a group of grunts
toasting the infantry in a bar said,
'You damned infantry think you're the only people who exist.'
You're damned right we do."
- How many men did you have? - Ten, sir.
- How many came out of the battle? - Four, sir.
- Four. Rest of them killed or wounded? - One killed.
One killed, rest wounded. Some of the wounded will be back for duty, I assume?
Yes, sir. We got them all out. All of them came back.
- Uh-huh. All your weapons too? - Yes, sir.
What were you doing, lad?
Sir, I was a medic on a point.
- Mm-hmm. Think you saved some lives? - Yes, sir.
"September 1967.
David, morale's very high
in spite of the fact that most men think the war's being run incorrectly.
One of the staggering facts
is that most men here believe we will not win the war,
and yet they stick their necks out every day,
and carry on as if they were fighting
for the continental security of the United States."
Were you men in the battle? I know you were, weren't you, Fitzgerald?
- Yes, sir. - What did you do?
What did I do? I ran around and shot just like everybody else.
What did you shoot? What type of weapon?
- I'm on an M-60, sir. - An M-60.
"We were taking a fierce beating over here.
They don't have enough men.
We must have more men.
At least twice as many, or we are gonna get
the piss kicked out of us this winter when the rains come."
Ever since Hill 80-81 and 86-20
you feel something in the air...
uh, about the build-up.
I don't know. You can almost feel them working around you at night.
"Dear Ellen,
we really have been preparing for this all-out offensive by the gooks.
I guess you might have read about it in the papers.
There's supposed to be a truce in Vietnam
during the Chinese Tet New Year.
Khe Sanh is the only area not observing it
because of the build-up.
I'll try to write again soon.
Love, Jim."
Incoming!
"Dear Mom and Dad,
I guess by now you're worried sick over my safety.
Khe Sanh village was overrun,
but not the combat base.
The base was hit and hit hard by artillery, mortars and rockets.
All my gear and the rest of the company's gear was destroyed.
I am unhurt and have not been touched.
But with all the death and destruction I've seen
in the past week I've aged greatly.
I feel like an old man now.
I've seen enough of war and its destruction.
I'm scared by it, but not scared enough to quit.
I'm a Marine and I hope someday to be a good one.
Please pray for us all here at Khe Sanh.
Your son and Marine, Kevin."
It's Tet, the Oriental New Year,
and it's a new war.
The Vietcong simultaneously attacked
just about every major city and town in South Vietnam.
In one day, they'd increased the scope of the war dramatically.
Howard Tuckner was there.
The war came to Saigon
early in the morning of January 31st.
The first target was the symbol of the American presence in Vietnam,
the United States embassy.
About 20 Vietcong had invaded the embassy compound
and were now battling American Marines and military police.
There are two men over in that direction.
The Vietcong had penetrated to the center
of what was supposed to be the most secure city in Vietnam.
What's the hardest part of it?
Trying to know where they are, that's the worst.
Riding around, they run in the sewers, in the gutters, anywhere.
They can be anywhere. Just hope you can stay alive from day to day.
Everybody just wants to go back home and go to school.
- That's about it. - Have you lost any friends?
Quite a few. We lost one the other day.
The whole thing just stinks, really.
Awful of sick it. I'll be so glad to go home.
I don't know. This is the worst area we've been in
since I've been in Vietnam.
Do you think it's worth it?
Yeah... I don't know.
They say we're fighting for something. I don't know.
General, there's a lot speculation on the Hill
that ultimately we may have to use nuclear weapons.
What can you say on that subject?
I do not think that nuclear weapons will be required
to defend Khe Sanh.
Incoming!
Marines just sitting here taking it like dopes.
Yeah, that's what gets me.
That's not they way we're supposed to...
We're supposed to be hard chargers.
We're supposed to go out and get them.
If they pulled a good search and destroy, we could clear them away.
I don't know. You get out there 50',
you're lost already in the jungle.
It looks pretty clear from here, but...
It's just a constant siege here.
And you don't know exactly when the incoming's coming.
And you don't know how much it's gonna be from day to day.
And...
How would you compare it to other places that you've served in Vietnam?
Well, this is the worst I've been at.
Most of the time you can't get anything done
because there's too much incoming.
You can't get out much at all.
It's just too dangerous to get out.
And, um...
it just gets on your nerves, that's all.
Either that, or just have the B-52s go up one side, back.
The only thing they hit is the ground.
"Dear Dad and Mom,
well, they haven't gotten me yet.
I'm sitting here in my new bunker underground
with many sandbags and metal skids between me and the surface.
But the men and I will be all right no matter what comes.
We are all well and morale is high.
You know I've never really regretted coming over here,
even yesterday when my favorite turd got it,
the little guy with my platoon sergeant's radiomen.
I really loved the kid.
He was the hardest little worker,
and never complained. Do anything for you.
After they had taken him away,
it almost kicked my ass, as the saying goes.
I almost cracked."
Ready? Fire!
"But there are 75 others to worry about
and I snapped myself out of my cheap civilian bull and got back to work."
"You learn every day the mistakes you're making
and the biggest one is to get too attached to any one person.
Over here, at least.
Things happen so quickly. One minute he's fine and the next he's not.
But old Don is pretty lucky. Knock on wood.
And home I'll come, I'm sure.
Maybe after we wipe them up here
they'll go to the bargaining tables and we can come home...
all of us. Love, Don."
"Dear Aunt Fanny,
this morning one of my men turned to me
and pointed a hand filled with cuts and scratches
at a plant with soft red flowers,
and said, 'That's the first plant I've seen today
that didn't have thorns on it.'
The plant was also representative of Vietnam.
It is a country of thorns and cuts,
of guns and marauding, of little hope and of great faith.
Yet in the midst of it all, a beautiful thought,
a gesture and even person can arise among it
waving bravely at the debt that pulls down upon it.
Someday this place will be burned by napalm,
and the red flower will crackle up and die among the thorns.
Yet that flower will always live
in the memory of a tired wet Marine.
With American sons in the field far away,
I shall not seek...
and I will not accept
the nomination of my party
for another term as your president.
What happened to you?
Oh, I got kind of messed up.
My unit was dropping... caught some, uh...
well, I don't... exactly, I don't know
if it was a fire base. They was always shooting.
And then I was out pulling guard.
And some hot rounds got too hot.
And they started getting close.
The next thing I know, I couldn't hear out of this ear.
They kind of blowed it out. Next thing I know, I was catching shrap metal.
And then that was it. Then they started evacuating me out.
This is my fifth hospital they put me in.
I don't know if they're gonna send me home or what.
I sure hope they do 'cause I've had it. I don't want no more Vietnam.
"Dear Mom and Dad, Peach and Fuzzy,
as I suppose you can see by my new stationery
this is not my normal letter.
While walking down the road one day
in the merry, merry month of September
my squad got into a hell of a fray and lost one member.
Mm-hmm. Me.
I'm all right. I am all right, I'm all right!
Carbine round hit me where it would do the most good,
right in the butt.
It hit no bone, blood vessels, nerves
or anything else of importance. Except my pride.
It was, however, a little bit closer to my pecker
than was comfortable, but that's as good as ever.
Although, it's now going through a year's hibernation."
"So I'm lying in bed here
and it comes time for that most thrilling event
when the general gives out the Purple Hearts.
All in all, it was a dreadful performance by everyone.
But in a way, a classic stereotype,
one of the large number of stereotyped characters
and situations I have watched acted out, much to my growing concern.
They finally left me sicker than I was before,
and with a medal I never wanted anyway.
Love, Sandy."
"Dear Mom, it's official.
Would you believe a Silver Star?
But I'm no hero. Heroes are for the late show.
I was just trying to help a couple of guys who needed help.
That's all.
The heroes over here are the guys trying to do their job
and get home from this useless war.
Love, Phil."
"Dear Dad,
I've been listening to the Vietnam radio's news report special
on the assassination of Martin Luther King in Memphis."
"But now I have a story to tell.
On Friday March 29 in our A.O. just south of Hue,
we received small arms fire from a village."
"My platoon leader Gary Scott and one other man were killed.
I was very close to Lieutenant Scott.
I was his radio operator.
He was a fine man, a good leader.
Yet he could not understand
the whys of this conflict which killed him."
Ready!
Aim!
Fire!
"They will say he died for his country,
keeping it free."
"Negative."
"This country has no gain that I can see, Dad.
We're fighting, dying for a people who resent our being over here.
Oh, I'll probably get a Bronze Star
for the firefight.
Lieutenant Scott will get a Silver Star.
That will help me get a job someday,
and it is supposed to suffice for Lieutenant Scott's life.
I guess I'm bitter now, Dad.
This war is all wrong.
Your loving son, Phil."
"Debbie, my dear honeycake,
my health is much better now.
The more I dream of the love we have shared,
the more I love you.
These dreams make feel as if I'm still with you.
Please keep a full and complete diary so we can reminisce.
Debbie, I'll surely have much love and lots of joy
with you in our future.
I'll remember your youthful and lovely face always.
Please pray for me, Debbie.
Alan."
"Merry Christmas, my darling.
Indeed for me a very Merry Christmas this year.
My values have changed over these many long years.
I've searched very carefully
for lasting happiness,
for what life really means to me,
and I found it.
I found it in a family in a home,
the dream home we'll soon build together.
I found it in the beautiful New England that I love so well,
that I miss so much.
But most of all, Debbie,
I found it in you."
"Dear Mom,
well, I'm spending Christmas Eve
in good old bunker 110.
I've got guard duty again.
I always wondered what it must be like to be at war
and far away from home on Christmas.
Now I know.
I can imagine how Pop felt during World War ll.
Love and kisses, Ray."
Vietnam, this is where it's at.
It's what's happening, or to put it another way,
who needs it?
"Dear Mom and Dad, on Christmas
the whole company was loaded onto a two and a half ton truck
and carted off to Bien Hoa to see Bob Hope.
Imagine! I've looked at Bob Hope for years
entertaining the troops, and never once thought
that he'd someday be entertaining me!"
This is Miss World, from India.
- He missed his cue. - This is Miss World from India.
How.
"Dear family,
Christmas out there was really something.
At midnight on Christmas Eve,
the mortars and tracks and tanks
and all of the 1st Cavalry Artillery
sent up an absolutely thunderous barrage
of high-altitude flares.
It was quite a show.
I believe few people have seen fireworks like these.
Then, when all had quieted down
and the flares had gone out,
the whole area calmed and hushed and we could just hear
one of the fire bases start singing
'Silent Night.'
Then it was picked up
by the other positions around us and by everyone.
It echoed through the valley for a long time
and died out slowly.
I'm positive it has seldom been sung
with more gut-feeling and pure homesick emotion...
a strange and beautiful thing
in this terribly death-ridden land.
It is something I will always remember.
Love, Peter."
For the average frontline infantry soldier in Vietnam,
war is a bore, interrupted only
by moments of sheer terror when men die.
Contact with the enemy
seems to be more infrequent than ever before.
The soldiers like that.
They sense, rightly or not,
that the war is almost over.
I'd rather go out myself and not find anything...
come back in empty-handed.
Why is that? The object of the war
is usually to find people and kill 'em.
Yeah, but that's not my...
I just don't care too much about that.
"Dear Tom,
about morale?
Americans do have many things to be proud of.
Among these is the ability to create a means of survival
in an absurd situation.
Because the tour here is one year long,
you're able to count the days until 'DEROS'...
'Date Eligible to Return from Overseas.'
You're able to say 'This time next year,
I will be home.'
After careful consideration with my senior civilian
and military advisors, and in full consultation
with the government of Vietnam,
I have decided to reduce
the authorized troop ceiling in Vietnam
to 484,000 by December 15.
Defense Secretary Melvin Laird
said the U.S. 3rd Marine Division
will be one of the units involved in President Nixon's
most recent redeployment order.
This afternoon, the U.S. Command announced
departing units will include:
supporting elements of the 1st Marine Airwing
plus the 3rd Brigade of the 82nd Airborne.
"Dear civilians, friends, draft-dodgers, et cetera,
in the very near future,
the undersigned will once more be in your midst,
dehydrated and demoralized
to take his place again as a human being
with the well-known forms of freedom and justice for all,
engage in life, liberty,
and the somewhat delayed pursuit of happiness.
In making your joyous preparations
to welcome him back into organized society,
you might take certain steps
to make allowances for the past 12 months.
Abstain from saying anything
about powdered eggs, dehydrated potatoes,
fried rice, fresh milk or ice cream.
Do not be alarmed if he should jump up from the dinner table
and rush to the garbage can to wash his dish with a toilet brush.
Also, if it should start raining,
pay no attention to him if he pulls off his clothes,
grabs a bar of soap and a towel, and runs outside for a shower.
Pretend not to notice if, at a restaurant, he calls the waitress
'number one girl,'
and uses his hat as an ashtray.
Be watchful if he is in the presence of women,
especially a beautiful woman.
Last, but not least,
send no more mail to the A.P.O.,
fill the icebox with beer,
get the civvies out of the mothballs, fill that car with gas
and get the women and children off the street, baby,
because the kid is coming home!"
Come to see me 'cause I will be looking out for you.
- Yeah. - I'll be lookin' for you.
- No sweat, man. Take it easy. - Take care.
I feel that the 9th Marine... they have been
doing a good job for quite a while now.
It is about time for them to go home,
but I would also like for the rest of the men in Vietnam
to go home just as much as the 9th Marines.
I would like to see all this end.
My friend, he would've, uh,
been pulled out of the bush here
two days after his death.
And it just seems kind of a shame
that he died needlessly.
Get down, come on.
"Hey, brother,
this place is sort of getting to me.
I've been seeing too many guys getting messed up
and I still can't understand it.
It's not that I can't understand this war.
It's just that I can't understand war, period."
"You just sort of sit back and ask yourself
'Why?
What the hell is this going to prove?'
And, man, I'm still looking for the answer."
"It's a real bitch."
"I just can't believe
half of the shit I've seen here so far."
- How many bodies... - How many did you see killed?
Myself, I saw approximately 100 bodies... dead bodies.
That's a conservative estimate now.
I know one group specifically,
they had rounded up about 20, maybe 30 people
and most of 'em were women and children.
There might have been a few old men in the group.
But they'd rounded them up right over a ditch bank
and shot 'em all with a machine-gun
and left 'em in the ditch.
"Dear John,
the physical and human damage done over the last few years
is much greater than I realized,
not just the dead, but the G.I.s who can't talk
in coherent sentences anymore.
Bomb and artillery craters, the ruined villages,
these things you can understand as the byproduct of war.
But I can't accept the fact of the human damage.
I feel like I'm at the bottom of a great sewer."
"Dear Mrs. Perko,
what can I say to fill the void?
I know flowers and letters are appropriate,
but it's hardly enough.
I'm Johnny Boy.
And I'm sick both physically and mentally.
I smoke too much. I'm constantly coughing, never eat,
always sit around in a daze.
All of us are in this general condition.
We're all afraid to die,
and all we do is count the days till we go home.
When we go to Saigon we spend all our money on women and beer.
We're all in desperate need of love."
"Some nights I don't sleep. I can't stand being alone at night.
The guns don't bother me. I can't hear them anymore.
I want to hold my head between my hands,
run screaming away from here."
"I'm hollow, Mrs. Perko. I'm a shell.
When I'm scared I rattle. I'm no one to tell you about your son.
I can't, I'm sorry. Johnny Boy."
Come, say it.
"Hi all,
Christmas came and went... marked only by tragedy.
Christmas morning I got off duty
and opened all my packages alone.
I missed you all so much.
I cried myself to sleep.
It"s ridiculous.
I seem to be crying all the time lately.
I hate this place.
This is now the seventh month
of death, destruction and misery.
I'm tired of going to sleep and listening
to outgoing and incoming rockets,
mortars, artillery.
I'm sick of facing every day
a new bunch of children ripped to pieces.
They're just kids.
18, 19.
Their whole lives ahead of them cut off.
I'm sick to death of it.
I've got to get out of here.
Peace, Linda."
Kent State University in Ohio has had campus violence
for three nights,
causing the National Guard to be called in.
And today the guardsmen opened fire on the students, killing four of them,
two young men and two young women.
The National Guard was called in over the weekend by Governor James Rhodes.
Today when 1500 students
started an antiwar rally on the commons,
the guardsmen surrounded them.
Then when some students started throwing rocks,
the guard moved in with tear-gas.
"Dear Editor...
This letter is from the men
who daily risk their lives in Vietnam.
In regards to the recent killings at Kent State University,
we are... we are sorrowful and mourn the dead.
But it grieves us no end and shoots pain into our hearts
is that the, quote, biggest upset is over
the kids who got killed at Kent State, unquote!
So why don't your hearts cry out and shed a tear
for the 40-plus thousand red-blooded Americans
and brave, fearless, loyal men
who have given their lives?
During my past 18 months in hell,
I've held my friends during their last gasping seconds
before they succumbed to death.
Do not judge us wrongly.
We are not pleading for your praise.
All we ask is for our great nation to support us,
to help us end the war.
Damn it!
Save our lives."
At Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines
there were no speeches, no bands, no bunting.
Homecoming was gentle.
The first man off was Captain Jeremiah Denton,
a man who had been in prison so long
his own teenage son had grown up,
gone to Vietnam himself,
served and gone home again.
And only now was his father coming home
after eight years.
We are honored
to have had the opportunity
to serve our country
under difficult circumstances.
We are profoundly grateful
to our Commander-in-Chief
and to our nation for this day.
- God bless America. - God bless America.
"Dear Bill,
I came to this black wall again
to see and touch your name:
William R. Stocks.
And as I do,
I wonder if anyone ever stops to realize
that next to your name on this black wall
is your mother's heart...
a heart broken 15 years ago today
when you lost your life in Vietnam.
And as I look at your name,
I think of how many, many times I used to wonder
how scared and homesick you must have been
in that strange country called Vietnam.
And if and how
it might have changed you,
for you were the most happy-go-lucky kid in the world,
hardly ever sad or unhappy.
And until the day I die,
I will see you as you laughed at me
even when I was very mad at you,
and the next thing I knew we were laughing together.
But on this past New Year's Day,
I talked by phone to a friend of yours from Michigan
who spent your last Christmas
and the last four months of your life with you.
Jim told me how you died,
for he was there
and saw the helicopter crash.
He told me how your jobs were like sitting ducks.
They would send you men out to draw the enemy into the open
and then they would send in the big guns
and planes to take over.
He told me how after a while over there
instead of a yellow streak, the men got a mean streak
down their backs.
Each day the streak got bigger
and the men became meaner.
Everyone but you, Bill.
He said you how stayed the same happy-go-lucky guy
that you were when you arrived in Vietnam.
And he said how you of all people
should have never been the one to die.
How lucky you were to have him for a friend.
And how lucky he was to have had you.
They tell me the letters I write to you and leave here at this memorial
are waking others up to the fact
that there is still much pain left
from the Vietnam War.
But this I know,
I would rather to have had you for 21 years
and all the pain that goes with losing you
then never to have had you at all.
Mom."
Sync, fix: titler