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Vietnam, Sad Stories From the Conflict, That Was Certainly a War
Scenes From The Vietnam War
Vietnan was War, not a "Conflict"
If you want righteous indignation aimed in your direction, then call the Vietnam War a "conflict." I do not recommend that you do this, as many a Vietnam Veteran experienced something much more intense, and altogether awful in Vietnam than a word such as "conflict" entails. This of course, applies to all on either side of the said WAR that was not merely a "conflict." Calling what happened between our United States Military and the North Vietnamese a "conflict," is also another wonderful example of how our government, and it's propaganda wing, the United States Corporate Media, operate to keep the truth from you and I concerning any, and everything. Oh, never forget that they also employee the exact opposite strategy, and THAT they do much more often, blowing up something small into a major "hobgoblin," causing the masses to clamor for safety, as if government could provide such a thing.
Ladies and Gentlemen, our veterans of World War Two, "the Greatest Generation," are dying off quickly. That war, the last major instance in which differing factions with global government agenda's squared off, and was staved off for yet a little while more, all the while being funded by corporations and Rothschild banks, and often the same corporations and Rothschild banks, on both sides. I'll never apologize for such a minor digression, but our WWII veterans are dying off, and if you know one, you should definitely spend time with him or her while you still can. Luckily, the veterans of the Vietnam WAR are still common, yet uncommon individuals. I'd like to encourage all of you, while at the same time making a notion towards myself, to take time out to do something kind for the Vietnam Veteran that you know, even if it's not a person that you particularly like. It's the least that you and I could do for those who experienced such horrors, and then came home to indignation.
The sad truth about the Vietnam war and its soldiers
2008 - Awful Tales From The War In Vietnam
Last month I spent several days "spacecoasting" in a town called Peeltown a bit down the road from the town I normally live in or around. Peeltown is my kind of community except that you can't leave much of nothin' sitting around outside-the place is sort of lawless. That same lawlessness is what will keep you out of the property of places you ought not be, so what was I saying?
Characters! There's lots of them in communities like that!
So anyway I met a Hell's Angel guy who was a Veitnam Vet, and I was at the home of another Vietnam Vet at that time. I'll not name any names, but the guy I met was in an intense mood, and I was too-he didn't know me from "Adam," but he started off talking rather angrily(not at me) about Vietnam, and how it wasn't called a war, but a "conflict."
"You know, the guy who owns this property was awarded two Purple Hearts over in 'Nam ." I pointed out.
"Yeah, but they don't give you no fucking Purple Heart for shooting your buddy ."
"Well, if someone was your buddy, then why would you shoot him ?"
I asked, being rather worried about the situation.
"Because he was a fucking vegetable! would you want to go home as a fucking vegetable??"
"No, I suppose not!"
I'd responded in that way, and was left, feeling sort of tiny. The man then went on to say that he found another friend of his tied to a tree with rats crawling through his stomach-he assured me that the "conflict" that he'd experienced was in fact a war-and this was something that I'd never doubted in my life.
Saturday night, the place was over at my "homegirl's" house in Kaufman, Texas. In the house that night was an aunt of her husbands-and I got to know her. We talked about her nephew Ray, and how he's become a hugely successful Lawyer in Dallas, and how Johnny Cochran had spoke(because Ray had the balls to ask him!) at his graduation from law school. Later, the conversation changed course and headed in the direction of the ladies brother(Ray, the lawyer's father).
"I'd never met him, " I said.
"He came back from Vietnam and was never right after that-he became a terrible drunk ."
I told her that most everyone I'd known or heard of had come back like that if they were lucky enough to come back at all(knowing full well that some probably didn't consider themselves very lucky for having returned home-never had a Vietnam Veteran told me that he felt appreciated upon returning). I went on to tell the lady about some of the sad stories I had heard from the vets I knew. She told me one that her brother had told her, and I'd not speculate on it much, but the setting was a villiage. I'd picture it as more of a jungle. Our troops were at the ready for a firefight, and all of the locals separated from our boys. In the distance "Charlie" was overheard insulting us, and crossing the human gulf of separation between native and U.S. soldier was a small child, a baby really-and strapped to him were explosives. Finally, a U.S. soldier had to shoot this small child because he was clearly packed with explosives and wouldn't stop heading in the direction of he and his fellow soldiers.
"That's fucking awful. " I told the lady who was relating this tale.
"Yes it is ,"she agreed.
We both wondered who it was more awful for, the man who had to shoot the child to protect himself and his fellow soldiers? The other soldiers who witnessed it? Or maybe even the N. Vietnamese?
Last night I had trouble sleeping because I was thinking about this, that, and the other. . . . .and I remembered back to when I worked at the Dallas Independent School District. There was a man there who was new to our HVAC department, he was a quite man, but very kind. One day he and I got to talking, and I told him,
"I heard that you were in the Marine Corps over in Vietnam? "
I didn't promp him to tell me a sad story, but he did anyway.
"Todd, the saddest thing I saw was when it was time to go home. The plane that left right before mine took off into the air, and it was packed as full as it could be with soldiers, and I knew nearly all of them. As we saw it take off somebody out of sight fired an RPG at it and the plane full of my friends who had served their tour, and were headed home was blown out of the sky."
Another HVAC employee at the school district told me more than once that it was at least ten years after he came home from the "conflict" that someone told him that they appreciated what he did for his country by serving over there.
Horrific Tales Set To Music - Concerning The Vietnamese War.
When I'd originally published the above on Myspace, I got a lot of comments on the thing, and in the comments, the stories got a whole lot worse.
My uncle returned from Vietnam and was a horrible and violent drunk. One Christmas he was in a decent mood and not drunk yet, and I asked him about the war; and he told me that he'd been in charge of driving a transport truck through a very dangerous area; and that one of the tactics of the North Vietnamese had been to send children out into the roads to make transport trucks stop, and then the North Vietnamese would come out of the woods, and kill any and all on the trucks. For this reason my uncle was told that under no circumstances was he to stop the truck, and if anyone got in the way on the road, he had to just run over them, and so he did, he started crying, and telling me about running over children, a lot of children, that they'd sent out into the road to try and make him stop the truck. He said that they were nothing more than babies. He went home that night, and killed himself with a shotgun.