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RESPECTFULLY
Thank you for the opportunity to paint for all my brother
vets. The September/October cover was my first illustration
for publication. I hope you enjoy the painting.
John Phelps
Dubois, Wyoming
ANOTHER RUMOR
I have never written a fan letter and never intended to,
but this is out of respect for the officers I knew. Philip
Caputo wouldn’t remember me. I am a Marine who was
in Battalion 1/3 and landed in 1965 in Danang. I was not
in Caputo’s platoon. He was in C company; I was in
B company in 3rd platoon under Lt. Williamson as a squad
leader grunt.
In 1978 I read his book, by happenstance, because
I read an article about the Pulitzer Prize in The Times.
I read it because it was about our battalion. My opinion
of the book has never changed: It was a brutally honest,
nut-cracking memoir, exactly as I remembered Vietnam. I also
felt he was too hard on himself, never giving himself any
kind of slack about his command presence, and unforgiving
in his analysis of his actions.
I met him once. My platoon
commander ordered me to his tent one afternoon when the battalion
base was beneath Hill 327. I wondered what I had done wrong.
In those days, officer country was not a place to visit,
especially by a lousy corporal. I was the stereotypical ’Nam
grunt, 22 years old, front teeth missing, 140 pounds soaking
wet, focused, and concerned with the NOW—forgetting
the past and unconcerned about my future.
I never hung out
with anyone but my squad, so my prospects of surviving the
afternoon were kinda bleak in my mind. In those days we avoided
being within seeing distance of officers. In the rear, the
Mickey-Mouse rules prevailed, and I always considered myself
a field Marine.
Couple days before, I had been riding security
shotgun for the captain when he went to Division for whatever
officers do. I waited next to the Jeep with the company driver,
me dressed in utilities and covered with red, powdered dust
from the roads, hours out of the bush. From out of nowhere,
this red-haired, white, blue-faced major headed straight
for me. He was huge, bull-size—a slobbering mean Marine.
He demanded, with authority, spit flying, my name, rank,
and service number, who was my captain, platoon leader, and
unit.
He commenced to mention my origin of birth and generally
let me know I had somehow screwed up his command. He screamed
that my magazine was locked and loaded inside his compound
and it was against the law. He commanded me to clear my weapon.
He then said he would be right back and stomped off in his
spit-shined boots.
The captain came back, and I related the
incident. He told me to get back in the Jeep. The major was
now coming across the compound with an MP bigger and meaner
than he was. The captain ordered the driver to haul ass.
I made a point of locking and loading my M-14 with a non-professional
sneer. I told myself on the way back over those powdered
roads that the major had gotten an ass chewing from the general
that morning for not doing whatever the hell his job was
at the time, and my being at the bottom to catch the crap
made his life better, I guessed.
I knew, with dread, I was
about to have God and the Corps drop on my skinny ass with
both feet. As I entered the officer tent, Lt. Williamson
introduced me to Lt. Caputo. No handshaking, this is officer
country. I thought Caputo was going to be my defense attorney
at my court martial. I was numb with angst.
Williamson was
saying I had been writing since I joined the Corps, with
many, many, many rejections over the years of stories I had
no experience to write. He said Caputo could possibly help
me. Williamson left because he could sense my unease.
Caputo’s
words were hitting me in my ears: He had a lot of anecdotes
and could help me flesh mine out. Did I have any anecdotes
I wanted to share with him? I said no; I was compiling my
notes and needed more experiences or some damn thing I thought
he wanted to hear. To my relief, after about a half hour
he released me. I was elated—so elated
that I needed a drink. I had survived the major. I was not
to be keel hauled.
Caputo never knew any of this. He probably
figured I was just another dumb-ass grunt with no future
or ambitions beyond survival. He gave me my life-defining
moment—my reprieve.
I never was afraid of anything again.
Mike Jeffords
Janesville, Wisconsin
FREE TO INSPIRE
I read the article about Jason Mouret and Bill Kissinger
in The VVA Veteran. It was a good story and one that makes
me proud. We have an incarcerated veterans program in Illinois
and a large population of deployed National Guardsmen and
Reserves. I may just have to start up a program to have the
incarcerated veterans communicate with deployed troops in
much the same way that Kissinger did with Mouret.
Kevin J.
Cavanaugh
Illinois Department of Veterans Affairs
VVA PROUD
I just returned from a personal journey back to Vietnam after
40 years. The trip far exceeded my expectations. Little did
I know that I would travel 7,000 miles to Hanoi and VVA would
be brought to the forefront not once but twice.
At the Hanoi
Hilton, there are several photo displays. One shows VVA’s
Veterans Initiative Task Force meeting with Vietnamese veterans.
I was pleasantly surprised to see Bill Duker, Bob Maras,
Jack Devine, and Bob Johnson in the display.
The group I was with, Military Historical Tours,
happened to be staying at the same hotel in Hue as the JPAC
team. We received a briefing on the ongoing operations. During
the briefing, the Deputy Director said VVA far exceeded any
other veterans’ organization in providing assistance
and our commitment was far above all others.
It makes me feel
good that the organization I proudly belong to is so highly
thought of in the international community.
Tom
Hall
Valrico, Florida
VETERANS’ SPLIT
Bill Crandell’s article in the July/August issue, “Iraq:
Vietnam Without Water,” was written to explain what
he describes as a “split” among Iraq and Afghanistan
veterans similar to that among Vietnam War veterans. This
sympathetic article is an introduction to what might be in
store for another generation of veterans. For those interested,
I recommend the web site ivaw.org There you can find the
testimony given at the conference and you can judge for yourself.
As you read the statements, I think it is important to consider
carefully the who, what, why, and when—as well as the
credibility of the witnesses.
About those “sunshine
patriots” who were gone
the next morning after the conclusion of the conference.
Perhaps they had returned to their homes, to go to work,
to receive their wages, to pay the taxes that provide for
Mr. Crandell’s retirement pay
from the VA’s Office of Inspector General, as well
as the legitimate benefits that all veterans have earned
and so justly deserve.
Welch Warren
Oakland, California
PILGRIM’S PROGRESS
All of us at Chapter 798 in Council Bluffs, Iowa, appreciate
the assistance from the national staff at VVA and Chapter
641’s Mike Najarian and Dave Gudes for accompanying
Ross “Pop” Grego, an associate member of our
chapter, to The Wall. We also are grateful for the article
in the September/October issue, “Ross Grego: A Son
Remembered.”
Special thanks also to Judy Bilello. A women veteran who
served in the Army during the Vietnam era, she spearheaded
a chapter fundraiser so that Pop could travel to The Wall.
Between March and May, she raised over $1,200 to help fund
Pop’s trip to Washington to see his son’s name.
John
D. Mallon
Council Bluffs, Iowa
CONDUCTED BY GRUNTS
The two Winter Soldier investigations, 1971 and 2008, have
a lot in common. And it’s not about liars and malcontents
as letter writer Lee Parsons would have us believe. Neither
investigation besmirched the honor of those who “served
honorably and proudly,” or otherwise, in Vietnam or
Iraq. These two extremely important investigations were conducted
by grunts who were there in order to expose the fact that
our government lied to the American citizenry about the motives
and conduct of both wars. In addition to my membership in
VVA, I’m a proud member of Vietnam Veterans Against
the War, Veterans For Peace, and an avid supporter of Iraq
Veterans Against the War.
Michael Burke
Atlanta, Georgia
THE TRUTH
I have to respond to the letter in the September/October
issue by Jim Anderson, in which he states: “If Vietnam
Veterans of America continues its drift to the ideological
left, it will lose half of its membership and a lot of its
moral authority.“
Mr. Anderson, truth has no ideological
standing. It stands alone without the help of any ideology.
Moral authority is man-made, changes with time, and is a
propaganda tool used by those in authority to control those
not in authority and has no bearing on any ideology.
I find
Vietnam Veterans of America and our magazine, The VVA Veteran,
a refreshing change from the partisan BS I read and hear
from most of our national media news outlets.
Kent Hill
By Email
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