tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11837405184490417122024-03-05T02:15:26.564-08:00THE PTSD GENERATION VIETNAM GotMySecondWind Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.comBlogger270125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-29603861790670871312015-09-15T04:39:00.000-07:002018-04-14T04:18:55.037-07:00INTRODUCTION I<div>
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To understand the Vietnam War or the will and inner strength of the Vietnamese people you must understand their history. Dominated by China for a thousand years the French set up shop in the late 1800's. In 1887 Paris formed French Indochina, it was ruled by a French governor responsible to the Ministries of the Colonies in Paris. Salaries consumed most of the colonial budget and little was left for education or public improvement yet Indo-China would prove to be France's richest colony. </div>
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The Japanese arrive in Indo-China in 1940 and France, having its hands full with WWII, was in no position to object. It was Japan's 1941 move into the area that brought United States attention to the war. With Japan's long range bombers able to reach the Philippines the U.S. and other European countries imposed an embargo on scrap iron and oil to Japan. This decision caused Tokyo to embark on war with the U.S. </div>
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After the surrender of Japan the French moved back into the southern half of Indo-China while the north was left vacant of any dominant government. The 16th parallel set forth by the 1945 Potsdam Agreement was the line of demarcation later known as the demilitarized zone or DMZ when moved to the 17th parallel. Ho Chi Minh seizing the opportunity moved into a vacated north declaring himself president of a free Vietnam. The French not sitting by idly would not relinquish their former colony without a fight. For Ho Chi Minh the war began in December 1945 following the shelling of Hai Phong Harbor by the French. Including American involvement, the fighting for Ho <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Chi</span> Minh and the Vietnamese people would last another 29 years, the longest conflict in the twentieth century. </div>
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Eventually the French growing war weary began slowing its pace leavinbhg a traumatized and ravished Indo-China on the world stage. The United Nations Commission for Asia and the Far East (ECAFE) initiated a project in 1957 to develop the area. The Mekong River Project would benefit 17 million people living along its 2,625 mile long length but had to be voted on. Only Burma and Democratic Republic of Vietnam (DRV-north) would reject the proposal. In total 26 nations would become involved in the project including the United States setting the stage for yet more intrusions by outside interests.<br>
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The 1954 the Geneva Conference ended the Indo-China War and set the 17 parallel as the new line of demarcation allowing Ho Chi Minh to establish a presence in the North while Emperor Bao Dai dominated the south. Bao Dai living the good life in France had no desire to return to a hostile Vietnam. He appointed Ngo Dinh Diem, a Catholic leader, to head the new government. Bao Dai believed the United States would back a Catholic leader as an alternative to communist Ho Chi Minh. He was right and on July 7, 1954 a new government was officially formed that technically encompassed all of Vietnam. Ho Chi Minh reluctant to recognize the new government called it a puppet regime of the U.S. and set the stage for the next 25 years of conflict.<br>
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Publicly President Eisenhower supported Diem by initiating the Southeast Asian Treaty Organization (SEATO), which included Vietnam. Secretary Dulles and Vice-President Nixon visited Vietnam and in 1957 Diem addressed a joint session of congress.<br>
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Dulles and Nixon's findings support a growing concern<br>
over Communism as the problem gets turned over to<br>
the Kennedy Administration.<br>
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Kennedy using this map as a power point presentation<br>
drives home his concerns over a growing threat.<br>
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Diem proved to be less than accurate with U.S. finances and little was used to improve community development. He spent most of it in the cities and little on the working people where most of the population was concentrated. Between 1955 and 1960 less than 2% of U.S. aid to Saigon went to reform and opposition to Diem was growing in South Vietnam.<br>
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Kennedy having second thoughts about Diem increased Special Forces presence in Vietnam and sent Vice-President Johnson to evaluate the situation. In May, 1961, less than a week after Johnson's return Kennedy increased the size of the South Vietnamese army by 100,000 men. Being poorly trained and inadequate Kennedy also dramatically increased U.S. military presence in South Vietnam.<br>
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Growing tensions in the Diem government increased as Henry Cabot Lodge in cooperation with the CIA learned of a pending coup by Diem's generals. At the end of August 1963 Washington assured the Generals of its support as Kennedy publicly criticized Diem. Washington cut off finances to the Diem government and on November 1, 1963 a coup, that was both swift and accurate, murdered Diem and his staff. Diem's death began a period of political instability that would last a decade. Washington under President Kennedy had sanctioned a coup and thrust America into it's longest war to date.<br>
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Hanoi followed the political upheaval in the south with keen interest and at a time when the south was most vulnerable decided it was time to act. In 1963, changing its position drastically, Hanoi sent notherners to the south to equip the rebels with new Communist arms. The war was escalating and in March 1964 Secretary of State McNamara visited Vietnam and vowed support for the new government headed by Khanh. McNamara reported to President Johnson that 40% of the countryside was under Vietcong control. Johnson was now sending over $2 million a day and little of it went to public works. Again in June 1965 the South Vietnamese government collapses and a new military leader Nguyen Van Thieu took control.<br>
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America is becoming more and more restless with the<br>
growing prospects of war and is not afraid to voice its opinion.<br>
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Publicly denouncing U.S. involvement in foreign affairs<br>
America expresses it's opinion.<br>
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In July 1964 the U.S. Navy destroyer Maddox started a reconnaissance patrol off the coast of North Vietnam. At the same time in the same area covert operations, using small vessels manned by Vietnamese but under U.S. control, were to take place on North Vietnamese sites. Learning of this operation North Vietnam retaliated with an unsuccessful counter attack. On August 2 three North Vietnamese torpedo boats unsuccessful attacked the Maddox. President Johnson using this attack immediately ordered air strikes on North Vietnam. In congress he asked for and immediately got approval to begin retaliatory measures as The Tonkin Gulf Resolution was passed. Operation Pierce Arrow began its bombing campaign and war had begun. The Tonkin Gulf Incident was politically profitable for Johnson in the beginning and polls showed an overwhelming support for his handling of the situation. With no ships sunk or casualties incurred the U.S. was thrust into one of the longest, ugliest, and costly wars in its history.<br>
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The first U.S. combat troops arrive in South Vietnam in March 1965 to defend Da Nang airfield. U.S. Army troops soon follow and by the end of 1965 there are nearly a quarter of a million U.S. personnel in South Vietnam.<br>
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As the U.S. war machine began to flex it's muscles new<br>
recruits were needed and the draft was instituted. This<br>
began a long legal battle that questioned our very Constitution.<br>
Here World Heavy Weight Champ Cassius Clay becomes a<br>
Muslim and changes his name to Muhammad Ali. Siting<br>
religious reasons he refuses to enter the military. <br>
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Ho Chi Minh, Uncle Ho as he was fondly called, was the<br>
inspirational, religious, and military leader of North Vietnam.<br>
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As tensions and unrest grew a number of influential<br>
celebrities began their own anti war movement. None<br>
more controversial than Jane Fonda, better known as<br>
Hanoi Jane, takes matters into her own hands. Fonda<br>
actually went to North Vietnam and mocked the U.S.<br>
war effort. Her legacy of sleeping with the enemy<br>
follows her to this day.<br>
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The French imposed Catholicism on the Vietnamese as<br>
did the U.S. and tried to convert as many Buddhists as<br>
possible by disrupting their practice any way possible.<br>
During U.S. involvement only 20% of Vietnamese<br>
claimed to be Buddhism but secretly almost 80% of the<br>
country were practicing Buddhism. Here, in objection<br>
to Buddhist suppression, a Monk lites himself on fire<br>
in self immolation.<br>
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The anti war movement growing in strength begins<br>
to react in unison as Peace and Music come together<br>
to create a happening. 1969 Woodstock Festival, NY<br>
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Other venues take on horrific scenes as the National<br>
Guard opens fire on anti war demonstrators at Kent State<br>
University in Ohio killing four.<br>
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As the war progresses horrific scenes of American<br>
atrocities hits the world stage. Here Napalm victims<br>
run for their lives as American bombers attack.<br>
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To aggravate the frustration of a defiant people the war<br>
pits brother against brother. Here a South Vietnamese<br>
Police Officer is caught executing a suspected Vietcong. <br>
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In 1975 the war draws to an end as countless civilians try to<br>
escape the chaos. As the Communist storm Saigon<br>
a bloodbath incurs and leaves the city defenseless.<br>
This was the last American helicopter to leave the<br>
American Embassy rooftop. <br>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia"; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">IF YOU RECEIVED THIS POST BY AUTO
NOTIFICATION CLICK ON THE PTSD GENERATION VIETNAM <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>LINK BELOW,</span></b><span style="font-family: "georgia"; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;"> </span><b><span style="font-family: "georgia"; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">THEN
FOLLOW THE SAME INSTRUCTIONS.</span></b><span style="font-family: "georgia"; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br></div>
Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-81969923567091102912014-11-02T23:15:00.000-08:002015-05-22T04:03:14.547-07:00MEMORIAL DAY - 2014<div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
I was a soldier but denounce that responsibility for what it's worth. Full of fire and brimstone with an attitude to match I killed for the ability to say I did just that. I live in the realm of the aftermath of duties I still don't understand. I live in a place where men don't feel safe and search for answers with primitive feelings then lash out because they don't understand. I live with false promises of answers and become angry because deep down inside I know I'll never really have them. We're flying by the seat of our pants without a guidebook and I feel I'm in a grey area of life. I don't see right and wrong anymore, I'm more about being different so I continue to search for answers knowing I will never know the truth. We've lost our way in this fad diet disposable world and we forget we're only tenants here. Hard work, really hard work, may be the only answer. </div>
<div>
</div>
<br>
<br></div>
The rest of my military career was one disaster after another. Spending the better part of a year in hospitals taking morphine and other narcotics to survive I became addicted to drugs. The drug and alcohol abuse caught up with me at West Point when I was arrested, put on trial, and spent the remainder of my military career locked up in prison. I was discharged from Fort Dix Stockade in September of 1970 a shell of the rough and tumble kid I once was.<br>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
I floundered for the next decade in and out of Veterans Hospitals trying to get a grip on my life. The drug and alcohol abuse continued with the help of my doctors that gave meds out freely. A bullet in my spine, medical abnormalities, and Agent Orange residuals kept my life at a stand still and ate away at my very core. Bouncing from job to job I was caught up in a systemic merry go round. I was running in place and watching my friends progress leaving me in the dust.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Reacurring nightmares, flashbacks, and anxiety plagued my life at ever level and was beginning to reflect in my children. For decades I struggled as a functioning psychotic and suppressed all connections to the war and the atrocities I had committed. Being sanctioned by the government was no justification, in fact it only instilled a deeper anger that I also suppressed. I hadn't slept a full night in decades.</div>
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<br></div>
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<br></div>
<div>
The formulation and diagnosis of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) began a new era in the emotional history of our country. Vietnam, if for no other reason, brought new light to a generation of souls that were divided at birth. THE PTSD GENERATION, as I like to call it, created a great schism in this country and this division hadn't been seen since the great Civil War. I envied those souls that took a different road and struggled with life without the added burden of guilt or perhaps a guilt that was placed in a different direction that I couldn't see. I, on a personal level, could not interact with others knowing my guilt and self loathing for my actions was an obstacle. Suppressing my thoughts and feelings was the only way I could survive and I knew if I let it out I would start to cry and never stop. I was wound up like a coil and I couldn't unwind <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">so I buried it deeper and kept to myself.</span></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
A day came though that was unlike any other in my life and all was not what it seemed when I reached in and touched a place I hadn't seen before. For a fleeting moment I found myself and I scrambled to retain it but I knew I would need help. I was diagnosed with PTSD and given an explanation, not drugs just a simple explanation, and for the first time something made sense. It was small but I had something to build on. I knew it wasn't going to be easy but up until now nothing was ever easy so I went at it full force and I haven't stopped since. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
I calculated how many days I thought I would have in my life and came up with approximately 30,000. I was astonished at the figure because I thought I had millions. I calculated how many days I was in trauma and to my surprise the bad outnumbered the good and that was no longer acceptable. I decided that everything had to change and there was no turning back. Hard work, really hard work, was the only way for me and I hit the ground running. I constantly think about the number of days in my life fore and aft and each day I either give one away or I make the best of it. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
A period of rebuilding and nationalism during the '80's ushered in the Raegan years with a lull in the aggressive imperialism of previous decades. Recession, jobs, and national debt kept America busy as we kept our heads buried in the sand and our military at rest. It was the Soviets turn to fight for a change and we simply fed the fires with finances we didn't have. When the nineties rolled around so did war as American troops or boots on the ground as they were now called were pressed into service. Movies like "Hunt For Red October, Courage Under Fire, G I Jane, and Saving Private Ryan" just to name a few instilled the power and might of the U.S. in the forefront of the American psyche. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Like the Vietnam War the Gulf War or Desert Storm was fought on TV in every household in America. General Schwarzkopf held nightly press conferences describing the technology of new Smart Bombs with accompanying videos of buildings, bridges, and infrastructure being destroyed. These press conferences were held with a light hearted attitude almost mocking the very essence of war. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
To me it was war at any level and the attitude at which it was handled sickened me to the point of regression. Half hearted comments laughingly accompanied each news conference even if the collateral damage included hospitals and schools. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">If I felt this way then perhaps others felt the same. I decided rather than regress I would do something about it and uncover the reality of war for the heinous monster that it is. I began THE ART OF WAR programs for educators and students alike and brought the reality of war to light.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Aggressively pushing my agenda on school districts during wartime was no an easy task yet the more I spoke the more I realized it was as much about me as it was for them. Having never spoken before in public my words took on a life of their own. Feelings and emotions I forgot I had surfaced with an intensity and passion I carried as a young man. My life had come full circle and I realized that getting up after you fall can only make you bigger and better than ever and I got up. The journey, as it is in all of us, is the story. The beginning and the end are just that and are always the same, it's life and death. The middle of the story is the heart of life and it lies within each of us as the human spirit. If I let it die then my story dies with it and so I think about those 30,000 days and decide each and every day to either give one away or make the best of it. </span></div>
<div>
<br>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWuGBg-eYwE_oUfp0ckUwTYEBbDtjuqVRbvDDBHbSDibRtoZIpbAdRNMShoAgIzwiKj1YKVutU9ZnPlS2410LPJkY_AEotB8HH7p7hzonm5t004r2yYJmerN9mYUg6cE-Zlr-ZOhUBMiE/s640/blogger-image--1142772777.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWuGBg-eYwE_oUfp0ckUwTYEBbDtjuqVRbvDDBHbSDibRtoZIpbAdRNMShoAgIzwiKj1YKVutU9ZnPlS2410LPJkY_AEotB8HH7p7hzonm5t004r2yYJmerN9mYUg6cE-Zlr-ZOhUBMiE/s640/blogger-image--1142772777.jpg" style="cursor: move;"></a><br>
<br>
CLICK: <a href="http://vimeo.com/m/96372603" target="_blank">http://vimeo.com/m/96372603</a><br>
<br>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXO48N1KDGbVdWVRVJtMrZoNMDmgCEWm9bls5lfYk-AB-HAckAt8e9ts8epcWI7vmoeT5_8FjeO4WZyVN3neR78kfNar-N2QzHUMOK4csVweBMwFe1IEMo8t_M2C_SyMMI2a1WBaoMr9g/s640/blogger-image--980598604.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXO48N1KDGbVdWVRVJtMrZoNMDmgCEWm9bls5lfYk-AB-HAckAt8e9ts8epcWI7vmoeT5_8FjeO4WZyVN3neR78kfNar-N2QzHUMOK4csVweBMwFe1IEMo8t_M2C_SyMMI2a1WBaoMr9g/s640/blogger-image--980598604.jpg" style="cursor: move;"></a><br>
<br>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"> MEMORIAL DAY - 2014</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"><br></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"><br></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">As young men and women at war we felt life and death with an intensity that is beyond any civilian emotion, and we formed bonds, as soldiers, that do not exist in everyday life. We were forever changed and will forever stand apart, for war has left its footprint on us.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"><br></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"><br></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">So how amazing is the spirit of man! In spite of numerous failings, he continues to sacrifice his life and</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">all be holds dear for ideals, for faith in country, for honor, for basic human responsibilities. The ideals may change but the capacity for self sacrifice continues, and it is impossible to loose hope in him. For though he is a plaything of the gods, with his spirit and his mind he fights back firmly. You must remember that nothing that can happen is likely to trample man for long and for all the sorrow, and ills of life, there is also joy and beauty.<br><br>The only way to remember the past is to move forward and carry it with you. To all my fallen friends, today I honor you, tomorrow I move forward.</span></span><br>
<br>
<br>
Thanks to the people of Southeast Asia I have learned a valuable lesson. Life is,</div>
<div>
<i> SAME SAME, BUT DIFFERENT.<br>
</i><br>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i> </i></span><br>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> THE END</span><br>
<br>
A special thanks for quotes, text, pictures, and historical information from;<br>
The National Veterans Art Museum,<br>
The Encyclopedia of the Vietnam War,<br>
The United States Government,<br>
and all contributing artists, bloggers, photographers, and web sites.<br>
For a full listing of contributing sites consult the REFERENCE page.<br>
<br>
A special thanks to GOOGLE for making this possible.<br>
<br>
<br>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br></span>
<br>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;">ATTENTION:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>TO POST A COMMENT OR QUESTION GO TO THE
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-90019509385943394322014-11-02T01:35:00.000-08:002014-11-02T01:35:52.943-08:0024th EVAC / CAMP ZAMA<div>
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My last adventure in Vietnam was a medevac helicopter ride stained with the blood of previous missions. Pilots were talking to the hospital, gunners were shooting, medics were trying to stop the bleeding, and escort aircraft were protecting anything with a big Red Cross on it. A symphony of man and machines came together to the rhythm of rotors trying to reverse the irreversible. Huey helicopter death machines once designed for killing now saved lives in the ebb and flo of war.</div>
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On January 11, 1964 Major Charles L. Kelly assumed command of the 57th Medicl Detachment (helicopter ambulance) and changed mobile rescue forever. His philosophy of putting the patient first, Americans and South Vietnamese, became the mantra for future mobile medical evacuation. Aggressively pushing his agenda for night evacuation he pioneered new and dangerous techniques in helicopter ambulance rescue.</div>
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Kelly fought an ongoing battle with both Washington and Saigon over the use of helicopters believing they should be of medical use only. Previously helicopters were of general use with removable Red Crosses that were put on only when needed for medical evacuation waisting both time and manpower. Kelly fought hard to keep his five Huey helicopters dedicated to his units primary mission. </div>
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Some days the ground medics never took a brake and the skies over the 24th Evac were backed up with incoming choppers filled with wounded soldiers. These tireless workers played the middle man in a life saving chain of events as over 300,000 wounded Americans came through their caring hands.<br />
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Kelly's ace pilot, considered by many to be the best pilot of the Vietnam War, was Officer Patrick H. Brady. On January 5, 1968 Brady flew an incredible series of nine medevac missions in fog over the mountains of Chu Lai and received the Medal of Honor for heroism. By the time he finished his second tour of duty his resume also included Distinguished Service Cross and Distinguished Flying Cross with Five Oak Leaf Clusters. Flying his famous helicopter "Dust Off 55" the term became synonymous with medevac rescue for the remainder of the war. Instead of calling in a medevac helicopter soldiers would call in a "Dust Off." </div>
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Life saving surgeries, amputees, and progressive new medical techniques were practiced in this room. The 24th Evac, considered by many to be the formost medical facility in the war, housed some of the most accomplished doctors in the world.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDyYUTmV-lOecMe-yGJk51I9xN_ZMnshhcLE7Koy_WhmqHcrzNO4vRDIppd3xbM51oZLw1GoZSaOHyNN0MQITjjBZ1ACjyklqYQBw8uU0pQi4FxOGzgLdkd_tEDucVZjk-D-5bFOxyniQ/s640/blogger-image-586529732.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDyYUTmV-lOecMe-yGJk51I9xN_ZMnshhcLE7Koy_WhmqHcrzNO4vRDIppd3xbM51oZLw1GoZSaOHyNN0MQITjjBZ1ACjyklqYQBw8uU0pQi4FxOGzgLdkd_tEDucVZjk-D-5bFOxyniQ/s640/blogger-image-586529732.jpg" /></a></div>
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The 24th Evacuation Hospital (semimobile) found it's roots in Arkansas in July 1923 in the Reserves as Evacuation Hospital No. 24. By October 1, 1933 the 24th Evac was allotted to the Regular Army and later activated into service in June 1942 at Camp Rucker AL in preparation for the Eropean theater and WWII. Establishing itself as the premier Semimobile Unit of its time it moved into Occupied Germany for the rebuilding period and returned to the U.S. for deactivation at Fort Bennington GA. Activated and deployed again in 1966 for service to Long Binh Vietnam it remained as the center for medical treatment in Vietnam until the beginning of the U.S. pullout in 1972. </div>
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Soft things, friendly aromas, and a white enviroment suggested I was dead and in a nice place. Soft voices, gentle hands, and the most beautiful face I had ever seen appeared in my peripheral vision as I opened my eyes. She spoke to me but I couldn't hear and focused on my senses that were working. I had to fight to remain conscious but then I drifted off. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">A month had pasted since my last conscious though and without my knowledge I was transported across the South China Sea to Camp Zama Japan. As far as I could determine I was alive. </span></div>
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UNCLASSIFIED TRANSPOTATION ORDERS, SUBJECT MEDICAL EVACUEES</div>
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This piece of paper was the only means of identification I had and was pinned to my bandages. The document states four evacuees are to be transported to two different hospitals in Japan. Three of the for wounded are from my unit.</div>
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Highlights top to bottom:</div>
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1. USARV LBN RVN, U.S.ARMY LONG BINH RUBLIC of VIETNAM</div>
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2.SUBJ: REASSIGMENT OF MEDICAL EVACUEES</div>
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3.USAH CP ZAMA, U.S. ARMY HOSPITAL CAMP ZAMA</div>
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4. ROMEO FRANK J</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW6174KYyQ6qn6eAoOaY0yjvolgjD_eS4eYGf5t5yD6adnglxcXRpVi7omLQsaWpui0ME5zssxxcvkRYQy2duXID9iDMT9XWtzGX5fqtyLvSMy2-wyPYZoD3NrfiksyfF9D9MU9p_81OU/s640/blogger-image-1324182087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW6174KYyQ6qn6eAoOaY0yjvolgjD_eS4eYGf5t5yD6adnglxcXRpVi7omLQsaWpui0ME5zssxxcvkRYQy2duXID9iDMT9XWtzGX5fqtyLvSMy2-wyPYZoD3NrfiksyfF9D9MU9p_81OU/s640/blogger-image-1324182087.jpg" /></a>On display in THE ART OF WAR exhibition.</div>
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Camp Zama's first hospital was built by the Japanese in 1940 with a capacity of 300 beds. It was enlarged to 1,000 beds during Japan's war effort and was called Sobudai-mai, Japanese Military Hospital. </div>
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The 128th Station Hospital was activated in December 1942 at Camp Beale CA and headed for New Guinea and eventually the Phillippines. August 16, 1945 the hospital was attached to the 8th U.S. Army unit and was part of a large invasion unit in Tokyo Bay that was never needed. On September 2, 1945 while the surrender was being signed the 128th battled a Typhoon and most of the hospital equipment was lost at sea. As General MacArthur first stepped foot on Japanese soil the 128th was the first unit to aid with American POW's. To give medical attention to the POW's the first medical facility was set up at Camp Zama. </div>
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During the Korean War the 128th combined with the 141st General Hospital for the expected influx of casualties. By 1951 a total of 4,370 patients were admitted in one year to this 300 patient bed facility. Following the Korean War Camp Zama continued to serve U.S. military forces and aid the local Japanese civilians. </div>
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During the early to mid sixties additional hospitals were joined together under one banner. The U.S. Army Medical Center become the U.S. Army Medical Command, Japan under the overall heading of </div>
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CAMP ZAMA JAPAN. </div>
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Camp Zama medically treated and housed the critically wounded that were to delicate to make the long arduous trip back to the United States. I fell into the category of critically wounded and spent months undergoing numerous operations to put me back together. I was shot in seven places with shrapnel and blast residue imbedded throughout my body. Unable to walk, talk, or use the lower half of my body I remained wrapped like a mummy hanging from a circus like apparatus trying to work through my lastest adventure.</div>
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New Hope<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTi1lRtTb6zGuGk5zJk0f2ArZ7X3sj_2E_K3MbM1PfZh2rthmKpSjVx7746JZs2d-BnYXTicNHYQ4cEFfeyIhham4L9jnIPsTicJvsKoV60f-GFSxOT-4rKJUiU8OlUhxsievzsAZWZrs/s640/blogger-image--1776003127.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTi1lRtTb6zGuGk5zJk0f2ArZ7X3sj_2E_K3MbM1PfZh2rthmKpSjVx7746JZs2d-BnYXTicNHYQ4cEFfeyIhham4L9jnIPsTicJvsKoV60f-GFSxOT-4rKJUiU8OlUhxsievzsAZWZrs/s640/blogger-image--1776003127.jpg" /></a></div>
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Phnom Penh boasts 4.5 million people and during Pol Pot's reign of terror the city was empty along with most others. The most populated area were the army centers and Security Offices like S-21 where his murderous killers were busy slaughtering innocent people and one third of the population was either murdered or displaced. </div>
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China was anxious to make a deal with Cambodia early in the sixties allowing infiltration of its border regions. The Viet Minh Regime of Ho Chi Minh backed Vietcong were next to stifle and inhabit the area giving the U.S. an excuse to proceed with bombing missions from the border to the outskirts of Phnom Penh. Finally genocide swept across every aspect of Cambodian life capping off almost two decades of death and destruction. </div>
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To say it touched every life in Cambodia is an understatement. In the week I've been here every person I've met has a story of family members who have fallen victim to the genocide. Two generations later the aftermath of terror is still vivid in their minds and overflows with emotion while they still try to cope and understand. Why is certainly a question but more so is why do it to your own people. This was not an invasion of WWII politics or ethnic cleansing but a suicidal event of a society from within. I myself am trying to understand and visually see the slow methodical comeback of a once proud society in ruins.</div>
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So, a teacher in New Hope Cambodia, teaches students English.</div>
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New Hope Cambodia School is located in Mondul 3, one of the poorest slums in Siem Reap Province in central Cambodia. The village is made up of 500 families of old army personnel, sex workers, and displaced men, women, and children. There is no formal education in Mondul 3 or any kind of vocational training and living conditions are appalling. Food is scarce. This village of dysfunctional families losses countless men, women, and children to disease and famine. Often the children rely on the elderly to survive or fend for themselves. In order to survive many girls fall victim to sex trade and trafficking or die of sexually transmitted disease.<br />
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Kevin a CEO working for G Adventures, a Toronto Canada based company and proud sponsor of New Hope, brought me to New Hope under the guise of being taken out for dinner. Before dinner was to begin a group of us were given a tour of the facility and I was privileged to sit in on a classroom in session. After the lesson was over I got to interact with the students and before I knew it I was answering questions, just like in America, about my prior experiences during the war. Interestingly enough the questions were identical to what American students ask me a half world away. It was then I thought, after my Skyping session with the American students, wouldn't it be fantastic if the two classes could Skype each other and I could mediate with the teacher. I've since contacted an American school and been given the Ok. I will work on it when I return home.i</div>
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Selfie in an English class in New Hope Cambodia. No talking!<br />
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I showed the students where in America I live, looks like any classroom in America.</div>
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Meet "So", of course I can't pronounce his name. So, I call him So.</div>
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So has been with New Hope for 6 years.<br />
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From humble beginnings as a grass roots organization, New Hope has become an internationally respected non-government organization run by a local Khmer called Sot Suo Kemsour. Sot Suo realized education was pointless without good health and so New Hope adresses the daily issues of its local population by providing food and a health clinic. 100 emergency patients come through the clinic facility daily and are treated free of charge. Food and support for over 340 families and 100 malnourished babies come through the clinic monthly.<br />
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New Hope clinic treatment area.</div>
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Every morning this waiting room is filled with desperate people in need.<br />
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Finally my long awaited dinner that I was promised, but this would not just be any ordinary dinner not at New Hope. Recently New Hope opened a restaurant completely staffed by students learning the hospitality trade. Cooks, waiters, and hosts politely introduce themselves by name and serve both vegetarian and meat dinners accompanied by beverages of your choice. The dinner was absolutely delicious with the exception of the appetizers of sautéd beatles and bugs. There are benefits to being a vegetarian. </div>
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The new New Hope Dining Room.<br />
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After two generations the aftermath of war and genocide is apparent in Cambodia more so than the other Endochina countries and the legacy lives on. Being a part of this world since I was a young man makes me vulnerable to compassion and guilt. It is without reservation that I say we played a role in creating this enviroment and it is without reservation that I say we owe a debt. If only the fact that we, along with the rest of the world, turned a blind eye to the genocide then that alone should be reason enough. Money, greed, power, and the Cold War were our justified reasons to be here then why not genocide. So, why not be here now?<br />
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-26779780049114482572014-11-01T00:44:00.000-07:002014-11-01T00:44:09.642-07:00CAMBODIA<br />
Ultimately suffering a worse tragedy than it's neighbors Cambodia was the last Indo-China nation to be drawn into the war in Southeast Asia. Surrounded by larger more powerful nations Cambodia historically has always had fears of being swallowed up by any one of a half dozen countries. Rimmed by mountains and hills on its borders it's heartland is a flat expanse of forests, fields, and grasslands watered by rivers and streams of the Mekong. River fishing and watered fields made Cambodians traditionally a well fed people during peacetime.<br />
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Angkor Kings ruled from the ninth to the fifteenth century but it was during the twelfth century that the kings converted to Buddhism. They built great temples in the shape of mountains which still stand today at Angkow Wat the religious capital of Cambodia. The dominant branch of Buddhism teaches that every person must seek his or her own enlightenment through meditation and it was this self enlightenment which made Cambodia appear to be losing its national identity. France, while establishing colonial rule over Vietnam, made Cambodia a protectorate in 1864. Under it's rule it encouraged productivity in the region giving Cambodians a sense of worth and ruled for the next ninety years. Losing it's hold during WWII Japan seized the opportunity to expand and occupied Cambodia until it's ultimate downfall. At the 1954 Genva Convention Indo-China went through a regional upheaval and Norodom Saihanouk was given the title Chief of State of Cambodia. </div>
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By the early 1960's Sihanouk was walking a fine line with all the major powers of the world. He broke off all relations with the U.S. in 1965 and permitted North Vietnam to use it's eastern border to supply the Communist takeover of the south. In March 1969 the United States began bombing both the Sihanouk and Ho Chi Minh trails to stop the influx of supplies and sent soldiers to deal with the Vietcong head on.</div>
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After one year of continuous bombing violent government orchestrated anti-Vietnamese demonstrations took place in Phnom Penh the capital of Cambodia. The National Assemblies and government Ministries voted unanimously to depose Prince Sihanouk as Chief of State. Sihanouk, then in Beijing to gain support, sealed an alliance with his former worst mortal enemy. To regain his thrown with authority he sided with the Khmer Rouge and led Cambodia down one of the darkest periods in modern time. </div>
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A French educated Cambodian Communist Saloth Sar, better known as Pol Pot, led the new Khmer Rouge government. The Khmer Rouge emerged in the 1970's as the most extreme and violent Indo-China revolutionary movement in its history. From 1973 to 1979 new violent and fanatical doctrines were imposed. These ideologies were buried in the psyche of the people beneath years of isolation, hatred of their neighbors, and war. Cambodia spiraled deeper into savagery as the war weary U.S. ended its bombing in 1973 paving the way for Pol Pot's new regime. By 1979 one third of the population was either murdered or displaced in violent attacks by the government. Cities were emptied out and millions of Cambodians were forced into slave labor camps as the world stood by and did nothing. The Khmer Rouge Regime was responsible for committing the worst genocide in the twentieth century second only to the Nazi's during WWII. In January 1979 Vietnam invaded its former ally and ended the reign of terror. After 35 years of continuous fighting the war in Southeast Asia was over and for the first time since WWII there was peace in the region.</div>
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We were sent to the isolated border region to find Vietcong and stop the influx of weapons. The chances of finding a base camp in such a remote area was nil but Delta was good at its job.</div>
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Hacking through dense jungle is hard but adding in a mountainous terrain makes it almost impossible.<br />
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Nighttime brings with it an eerie surreal enviroment of shadows and forms as apparitions appear and disappear. This was the stuff that nightmares were made of.<br />
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Dawn in triple canopy jungle is the equivalent of having a night light on. I had been up all night dealing with my apparitions and exhausted from both the night and the previous days adventure. My feet were bleeding and swollen but I had to go to work and ignore the pain. To add to our misery our hunger would also have to be ignored and wait for resupply helicopters to drop off our food. The clearing was about a half mile away. The jungle was to dense for landing and much to dangerous for any kind of a drop zone especially in the Vietcong's backyard. Half our unit was ordered to make the dangerous trek to meet the choppers leaving my point position open. I volunteered to stay behind and hold down the outpost while Peter and the others went on a two hour hike through dense growth.</div>
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My bravery came a distant second to the pain in my feet as I carefully unlaced the tension on the blood soaked canvass of my jungle boots. As I suspected my socks wouldn't come off without that outer layer of skin it was so fond. My raw feet were stinging from the damp morning air. Foot powder and bug juice were essential to the ground soldier and were probably made of the same smelly stinging ingredients. From the height of my boots to the tip of my toes my feet were bleeding from oozing pockets of clumped skin. Closing my eyes to the instant gratification of pleasure pain I wallowed in foot powder enjoying the moment. </div>
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An explosion rocked my body followed by the clacking of AK-47's first from the front then flanking me to one side between me and my unit. The day began, like many others in Vietnam, with a violent firefight pitting men against each other without personal cause. I was now alone without Peter for the first time and separated from my unit. I had a bad feeling about this place. </div>
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Intense heat threw my head back, left knee ripped out, calf exploded, hips displaced, and pain shot up my groin through the center of my spine and they kept shooting me. I was alone and both the Vietcong and I both knew help wasn't coming. I took another round as they kept my unit pinned down at a considerable distance. I was their bate lying in no-mans land to be dangled in front of the men. They shot me again for good measure. The firefight continued breaking the silence of the morning mist with that familiar smell of battle as gladiators, both champions for their own cause, went at it. Some stood, some fell, and still no one came for me.</div>
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I was not here and I was not there but peaceful in a new place watching from a comfortable height. The light was bright but not intense as it cradled me in serenity and allowed me to think in a rational calm venue and view the events of the day. Ever so slowly my men were inching closer and with a volley our medic got to me and cut my clothes off feverishly. Doing what he could he signaled the men to wrap me up in a pancho liner so be could attend to the others in need.</div>
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Returning without supplies my six man team attended to me immediately. They would go back to the drop zone again only this time they would carry my limp body and exchange it for food. I could see the horror in Peter's face and tried to comfort him but no words came out. I was here and I was there and I tried to talk to him. I knew I would leave with unfinished thoughts from the previous night. What would he do without me? How would he survive? I wanted to be ok for his sake after all we were a team from back home and we needed to see this through. </div>
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I floated awhile longer with grace and ease and an uncanny ability to think at multiple levels. Thoughts of Peter, the men, all the days here, and home all came and went fluidly with a clarity of mind I never possessed before. Focussing on Peter I wanted him to know I was sorry for leaving him but again there were no words just a limp body wrapped in plastic. I knew my time here was done, unfinished but done. I'm sorry Peter. </div>
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Peter, Dave, and two others put me on the chopper along with a few other men wounded from our sister unit. Still limp I was first to be put on so I got the bottom rack while the others were locked in above me. Garcia was shot in the throat and bleeding all over me in sporadic bursts that the medic couldn't control. I had no place to go so his blood mingled with mine and coagulated on the floor. He was in bad shape I thought and I wondered if he too was watching or had he already left and gone to another place. Pictures in my head was all I had then everything went away.</div>
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When I thought I've seen it all I'm confronted with yet another surreal tidbit of life that I try to wrap my head around. It is times like this that I feel the odds of becoming old are astronomical and given the countless obstacles that we confront from conception to death is astounding. Conceiving, disease, war, and the rigors of everyday life make me scratch my head in wonder and it is days like this that I hold so dearly for it is days like this I'm so very grateful.<br />
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S-21<br />
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When you call it S-21 it gives it a museum stop touristy feel but once you enter Security Office number 21 your pulled into a world of darkness unmatched by any Hollywood script. Welcome to hell. Pol Pot came into power as a direct result of the conflict in Vietnam. Drawn into the war out of neccessity Cambodia suffered more than any other country in Southeast Asia. Skirmishes with Cambodian forces along the border were commonplace but little did we know we were fighting what would be the future genocidal killers of the savage Khamer Rouge Regime. </div>
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A row of cell blocks houses a couple of hundred prisoners and in total approximately 1,700 were contained tortured and sentence to death for the crime of being educated. If you could read you were considered educated and so you were beaten and tortured until you confessed. Only 4 people survived S-21 and 2 remain alive today to tell their story.<br />
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Cell block and torture room.<br />
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Meet Bou Meng one of only two survivors. I sat with Bou and through his interpreter I told him who I was and why I was here. He sat patiently and probably thought to himself, who cares, but there we were both survivors and both moving forward. We were close in age but he suffered a fate far worse than I. His family including his wife were killed in S-21 and yet he feels compelled to continue. I could feel his spirit was large and I absorbed as much of it as I could. This is the energy that we all need and it keeps us moving forward.<br />
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Bou testifying before the world court.<br />
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From S-21 I followed the route of some of its inhabitants to the quiet little village of Choeung Ek and walked through the orchards of a mogul pock marked landscape. If I were in a picnic frame of mind I would have sat under a shady tree and had lunch. This peaceful setting holds the remains of thousands of victims of genocide buried in mass graves. Each mogul I walked through was filled with hundreds of naked bodies small and large.<br />
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I looked down at the muddy earth and was shocked at what I saw. It had rained that morning and human remains were uncovered by the downpour on the very path I was using.<br />
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Selfie in the orchards, welcome to The Killing Fields.<br />
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I was in a room containing 9,000 human skulls and other body parts.<br />
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Thousands upon thousands of souls appear to be trying to get out. <br />
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Children were beaten against The Killing Tree and the savagery didn't stop there. It is believed that when you eat the hearts and lungs of your enemy you gain their strength.<br />
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My Cambodian experience rounds out the last week of my journey and as hard as it may be to see such atrocities it is a necessary evil to convey the full picture of the War In Southeast Asia. As a direct result of outside interest this region has suffered greatly and although compensation will never happen an honest forthright understanding of the facts is not asking to much. We as a society, although maybe not directly, helped create this upheaval and we should at least aknowledge our role. Then and only then do we move forward in earnest without guilt and understand the past so that we may better see the future.</div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">ATTENTION: TO POST A COMMENT OR QUESTION GO TO THE WORD COMMENT BELOW AND CLICK ON IT. A DROP DOWN BOX WILL APPEAR AND SAY SELECT PROFILE. CLICK ON THE WORDS SELECT PROFILE AND A DROPDOWN BOX WILL GIVE YOU OPTIONS. IF YOU DO NOT HAVE A GOOGLE ACCOUNT CLICK ON ANONYMOUS. LEAVE YOUR COMMENT IN THE COMMENT BOX AND CLICK PUBLISH.<o:p></o:p><br /></span><br />
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-16057745447185357852014-10-31T03:15:00.000-07:002014-10-31T03:15:10.862-07:00THE SUMMER OF '69<div>
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Many believe the sixties to be one of the most bizarre, controversial, enlightening, and world changing decades in he 20th Century. Everyday was an adventure and it seemed like the world was changing not by the day but by the hour. As the the decade drew to an end the summer of 1969 revealed an amazing array of eclectic events unmatchinwd in modern times. People and events on the world stage close out a decade of pain, awareness, and hope never to be forgotten.<br />
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Neil Armstrong walks on the Moon.<br />
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The John Hancock Building, the tallest building in the world outside of New York, opens at a staggering cost of $100 million.<br />
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Woodstock the music, art, peace and love festival draws one million strong.<br />
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The New York Mets make a rags to riches run for their first World Series Championship.<br />
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Midnight Cowboy wins best picture.<br />
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Hurricane Camille slams the Gulf coast and reeks havoc across the mid-Atlantic killing 255.<br />
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Muhammad Ali is convicted of refusing induction into the U.S. Army and is stripped of his World Championship title.<br />
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Racial tensions escalate as the National Guard is called into Baton Rouge LA to quell the riots.<br />
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The summer of 1969 brings record 100 plus degree days in Vietnam broken only by the daily deluge of torrential down poors dropping the temperatures to a chilling 85 degrees as the war rages on.<br />
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I never sleep on missions and we were always on missions so I merely closed my eyes in a conscious meditative resting state. Aware of my surroundings and clutching my grenades as a security blanket I closed my eyes listening to the unnerving sound of silence. Thoughts of finding an abandoned base camp with signs of occupation filled my head with senario's both good and bad but mostly bad. We were sent to the border to find Vietcong but instead we compromised our position and played right into their hands. Through circumstance and chance we were now on the defensive and to make matters worse we were out of food and water.</div>
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I felt eyes on me all night and smelled the presence of the enemy imagining ghostly apparitions hidden in the shapes and forms of dense foliage. I tried to get comfortable in a six foot piece of rip-stop nylon that kept me off the wet turf. Similar to parachute material we tied ropes to both ends serving as a light weight on the go makeshift hammock. I was on the lower sling dangling my wet boots barely touching the ground. I hadn't taken them off for a week and I could feel <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">the lacing stretching from my swellen feet. Blood oozed from the raw meat infested with jungle rot, a bacteria infection from constant dampness, as my socks acted like a second skin to stop the hemorrhaging. </span></div>
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Again the eyes were on me along with ever increasing apparitions that were now accompanied by voices or so I thought. I tapped Peter on the upper hammock for reassurance and confirmation of my thoughts but he heard and saw nothing. We dismissed my awareness as an over active imagination and he went back to sleep. I was good at my job and my sense of tracking the enemy was equalled to <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">the other six senses and I had a bad feeling about this place. The border jungles were unlike any other place in Vietnam and now after disturbing that base camp the enemy had the upper hand. I remained vigilant for the rest of the night and welcomed the first signs of light. We survived the night without incident and daylight, or as much as can filter through the dense growth, gave us a fighting chance.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">To date I've been travelling nonstop for five weeks and it's a grueling pace for anyone no less a 65 year old. I've sailed down rivers, ventured in jungles, reentered the lush delta and I have to be honest I'm a little tired but today my energy is peaked. I am on a eight hour bus ride to a nice hotel to skype with American students. This will be the first time I've spoken to an American since I left JFK Airport in New York 12,500 miles ago on September 22nd. I am very excited. </span></div>
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I started my day exploring ancient temples and finished talking to American students by way of Skype. Entering the emerald green flatlands of endless rice paddies I began crossing Cambodia stopping at Siem Reap home of over 100 ancient temples. Built by the Angkor Kings to fuel their God-like egos these temples lie between the mountainous rock quarries of the north and the wetlands of the rice paddy food sources of the south. Angkor Wat is the crown jewel of the Siem Reap and is the single largest religious complex in the world.<br />
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Selfie before I climb the 120 steps to the summit.<br />
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Buddhist Monks meet and greet visitors from all over the world.<br />
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The jungle has taken back many of the temples leaving tourists with a unique visual experience. </div>
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Harrison Ford filed "Tomb Raiders" at this temple.<br />
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Sitting quietly trying to understand an endeavor so large and the reason for it. Some of these temples took 40 or more years to build and many kings died before they were completed.</div>
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I came across this 4 or 5 year old girl creating art, one of my favorite subjects. I tried to talk to her but she was to busy creating.<br />
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A Disney Princess and only one of many drawn in the dirt.<br />
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Selfie on my hot, bumpy, and miserable eight hour bus ride.<br />
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Selfie in my hotel room while waiting for the Skype session to begin.</div>
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I met them at one of my lectures last year and they have returned to scrutinize my journey and share what I have learned if anything. The students of Walt Whitman High School in Huntington New York are some of the brightest and knowledgable students anywhere and I always enjoy visiting with them. Led by Mr. Donlon this government class doesn't hold back. As if I was right there they came at me with a host of well thought out questions. From questioning my feelings and emotions to life changing events I've witnessed here one by one they came up to the camera. I did my best to answer with a sincere and truthful response as the cameras were recording a TV special to air on Veterans Day. Thank you Walt Whitman for allowing me into your classroom.</div>
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Chanel 12 Cablevision hosted by anchor women Virginia Huie Allison will air a special show on Veterans Day. For the benefit of all my followers around the world I will post a link for the special. Veterans Day honors all American Veterans still living from all our wars. Originally called Armistice Day it falls on November 11th signifying the end of WWI. Thank you Chanel 12. </div>
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-78463176081928669132014-10-30T02:37:00.000-07:002014-10-30T02:37:09.718-07:00THE CONFLUENCE<div>
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Prince Norodem Sihanouk ruled Cambodia since he wrestled independence away from the French in 1953 by politically maneuvering between right and left wing factions. For ten years the Prince managed to remain neutral during the ever increasing civil wars in neighboring countries while continuing political ties with the United States. Wedged between two allied forces, Thailand on the west and South Vietnam on east, he dealt with a civil war in Laos to the north. He performed this balancing act while remaining neutral with all the super powers of the world which was no easy task.<br />
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Sihanouk believed the Communist would eventually triumph in Southeast Asia and Cambodia was incapable of defeating a Vietnamese takeover. To survive Prince Sihanouk had to make a deal with the devil and on April 10, 1965 he broke off relations with the U.S.. To gain foreign support both economically and politically he turned to China. One of the terms of the agreement with China was that Cambodia would allow the use of its eastern border by the North Vietnamese during the Vietnam War. North Vietnam and the Vietcong capitalized on this agreement and it became one of the most fought over area's in all Southeast Asia.</div>
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The North Vietnamese used this area to supply the Vietcong guerrilla force by land and by sea. The Ho Chi Minh trail was extended down thru Laos and into Cambodia by a labyrinth of trails, roads, and bridges then into South Vietnam. The second supply route was sailing ships into the Cambodian port of Sihanoukville then transferring the military supplies onto trucks and transporting them to the fighting zones. To circumvent the U.S. naval presence in the South China Sea ships would fly flags of other Communist countries, mostly <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">from Europe's eastern block. War materials intended for use against U.S. forces sailed right past American war ships and again a labyrinth of routes was used to transport the goods by land. Eventually these routes would be known as the Sihanouk Trail. The Sihanouk Trail and the Ho Chi Minh Trail converged in our area of operations along the highly fought over jungles of the Vietnam Cambodian border.</span></div>
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The Ho Chi Minh Trail in red meets the Sihanouk Trail in black in the southern portion of South Vietnam.<br />
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As tensions escalated and warring factions increased militarily more supplies were needed in the south. In 1965 the Ho Chi Minh Trail underwent a massive overhaul to try to handle the traffic needed to fight the Allied Forces. Engineers from North Korea, Russia, and China aided North Vietnam to widen the footpaths into roads, strengthen bridges, and piled rocks in streams and rivers to create fords. Creating fords, a shallow area beneath the water level, allowed supplies to cross bodies of water by foot or vehicle and was not seen from bombing missions in the air. Increasing amounts of material and men moved as much as 100 miles during the night and were hidden in depots during the day. Foot traffic also increased from 12,000 in 1964 to 33,000 in 1965 and vehicle traffic quadrupled. </div>
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The fighting increased along these border routes despite heavy bombing and units were called in to deal with the buildup firsthand. The roads weren't the only problem, by 1968 a network of caves and tunnels littered the jungle and burrowed deep into the earth. There was now 820 miles of well hidden roads to contend with and Delta was brought in to handle the job.</div>
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Aidded by Noeth Korea, Russia, and China North Vietnam built fords to cross rivers and Streams. Fords were rock or cement dropped just under the water level to create a bridge. Because the bridge was under the water level they were hard to detect by Allied bombing missions.</div>
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Without ever seeing the sun we humped, chopped, and climbed the jungle slopes of the border region for a month coming dangerously close to Cambodian sovereignty. Some days I could swear I pasted the same tree several times. Unless we transversed a Bamboo forest or an Agent Orange Range everything looked the same, hot steamy and green. </div>
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It seemed as though I spent a lot of time walking point and today was no exception. Intelligence had the whole area crawling with Vietcong base camps and tunnel complexes as supply lines from the Ho Chi Minh and Sihanouk Trails filtered into this bottleneck. We were tredding in their back yard and so we had to tred carefully taking our time to watch for signs. A slightly worn trail meant activity was close so I mirrored the parh off to one side and scrutinized the area. Smelling their presence I gave the sign to halt and lay low. </div>
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Peter and Dave joined me up front and we came in low and quiet. There were bunkers on either side of the worn path like traps on a golf course.<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> These bunkers were entrance's to tunnels and had to be checked out carefully. I took the first and jumped into the pit with my team looking over my shoulder for backup and immediately they pulled me out. The entrance to the bunker was booby trapped with poisonous snakes and I was their dinner or at least the appetizer. Blowing up the bunkers and caves would have to wait until we swept through the base camp and cleared it of any Vietcong. It was not in their nature to stay and fight unless they had the upper hand and today this was not the case. </span></div>
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Peter was next and entered the first hut while we quietly stood guard ready to attack. We learned the hard way that anything was possible in a world with no boundaries and certainly this fit that category. Growing up on Long Island in New York couldn't be further from my present location both physically and emotionally. It was suburbia meeting a grass hut culture without an explaination and so I tried not to think to much about it and just did my job. </div>
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The huts were small and it didn't take Peter long to emerge unscathed carrying a second weapon slung over his shoulder. This was a war trophy if he chose to carry it throughout his tour. It was an old Russian SKS Sniper Rifle and it was in good condition. Many soldiers carried souvenirs with them to take home and this was Peter's second, he already carried a human skull and I myself <span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">had two femur bones we found in the jungle. The bones were from a small framed body so we assumed they were Vietcong.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Dave was in the lead now and following the path through a patch of heavey growth he came face to face with a Vietcong. They both were startled, they both screamed, and they both began to run. Surprised by the intrusion the Vietcong had no weapon and took off with Dave right on his heels. Capturing a Vietcong in this area could be a valuable tool for information with locations and supply delivery times and could possibly save lives. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Without a visual sight we heard yelling from the jungle outside the camp and still there were no shots fired. We assumed they were both still alive. The rest of the unit caught up to us and were locked on the yelling in full attack mode. As the rustling of the brush got closer we stood ready to fire when Peter called a stand down reminding us that Dave was out there alone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Out of the brush Dave appeared yelling as he bounced from tree to tree writhing in pain and covered with wasps. We tackled him and began a soaking of bug juice picking off wasps one at a time. His face had already begun to swell. It was a relief to see him and better yet it was a relief to see him not being shot by his own unit. The Vietcong had escaped and our chances of a prisoner were gone and so we went back to work destroying the base camp. There was cooked rice and weapons scattered throughout and bunkers to attend to and fast. Our position had already been compromised and we were dangerously close to the Cambodian border. We were in a bad position and finding this base camp empty was probably the worse scenario possible. Having no recourse but to continue our work the Vietcong knew we were there and they were not about to let us out without a fight. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Staying off the paths we worked our way deeper into triple canopy jungle until we were well hidden and bedded down for the night without as much as a match being lit. In silence we </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">opened our last cans of C-rations, drank our last potable water and sat in total darkness knowing we were in trouble. Exhausted from the trek I still managed to stay up all night waiting for the inevitable.</span></div>
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The 60 caliber machine was a two man job, a gunner and a man to feed the chain of rounds and carry a second barrel if the first one melted. It was a must have weapon in the jungle and could shoot through almost anything. If the gunner went down the second man took over. </div>
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Peter on the left and Dave pose before leaving on an operation.<br />
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The less inhabited back area of the central highlands was a perfect venue for the Vietcong to hide and stage their attacks. Virtually impossible to find, no less negotiate, it was an arduous and massive challenge for the Allied Forces to deal with. Criss crossed with trails and caves the region was a guerrilla army's paradise and a sanctuary for resupply and rest.</div>
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I travelled by mini van through the confluence of trails and roads through the less kept roads of the back bush jungles and mountains of this rugged terrain. The scenery was breathtaking but the roads left something to be desired. More exciting than a roller coaster ride and a bit more dangerous I tried to photograph the essence of a hard life in the uninhabited makeshift villages of the mountainyard people. These elevation living villages helped the Vietcong on their journey to and from the war zones. </div>
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Travelling the high country was a beautiful but dangerous journey.</div>
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Mountain peaks are broken by the occasional valley rich with soil producing crops.<br />
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From the air worn paths such as these are cancelled from arial view by dense jungle growth.<br />
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Natural land formations provide both storage and housing for an army on the move.<br />
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Natural camouflage helps to blend man, machine, and nature.<br />
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Some paths were later paved for small vehicles.</div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Selfie in the central highlands.</span><br />
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Housing on a mountain cliff.<br />
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Storage bins for rice.</div>
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<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b>IF YOU RECEIVED THIS POST BY AUTO NOTIFICATION CLICK ON THE PTSD GENERATION VIETNAM LINK BELOW,</b> <b>THEN FOLLOW THE SAME INSTRUCTIONS.</b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-61974143393212150512014-10-29T03:59:00.000-07:002014-10-29T04:13:04.556-07:00OPERATION RANCH HAND<div>
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The extraction from the Plain of Reeds was a precise work of art but something was not right. Instead of heading east, back in the direction we came, we headed north along the Vietnam-Cambodian border into heavey jungle. This was our new area of operations. </div>
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At times it seemed as if we were the only unit fighting the war as we entered yet another eco system unlike any we've worked before. Triple canopy jungle was a new concept with new equipment. Machetes, M-79 Grenade Launcher Canister Rounds, and the M-72 LAW (light anti-armor weapon) were handed out to add to our arsenal. Night vision scopes and any heavy equipment were no longer needed and left behind in the choppers. Adding to our misery was the beginning of the annual Monsoons and life became increasingly harder if that were possible. Being constantly wet or hot steaming dry was our new dailey routine and was only broken by the occasional river crossing infested with leaches. Welcome to the jungle.</div>
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The tropical rain forests of Southeast Asia were a sight to behold. If it weren't for the Vietcong constantly trying to kill us I could enjoy the rich green foliage of the Eastern Central Highlands of South Vietnam. Coupled with our dailey dousing of rain at precisely the same each day was the ever rising heat index creating an outdoor sauna of unrelentless sweat and steam. If we weren't drenched from the rain we were drenched from sweat and taking off our jungle fatigues was out of the question. Mosquitos, ants, spiders, snakes, and an assortment of creepy crawly things that bite, claw, and scratch were part of everyday life here and they <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">were just waiting to latch on for an easy meal. </span></div>
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Moving through the jungle was a tedious painstaking job of hard work as machete wielding soldiers hacked their way through triple canopy growth becoming an easy target and vulnerable for attack. The element of surprise was now in the hands of our enemies and we were constantly on alert. The point man was our best defensive posture to cope with this ever increasing dangerous new scenario. One man out alone yards ahead of everyone else risked his life to help the others. By putting himself in harms way he would be the first man attacked alerting the others. Land mines, booby traps, and sniper fire was a given possibility at all times not to mention a full head on attack. The point man was alone making it the riskiest job in our unit and each of us took our turn. Working alone in heavy growth was a dangerous job but approaching an open area in the canopy was an even greater problem. It brought the risk factor to yet another level.<br>
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Breaks in the jungle were a perfect opportunity to launch an attack. Here an eight man unit follows the point mans lead through a wet low lying break in the canopy perfect for an ambush.<br>
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The beauty of the jungle hides many dangers. Camouflaged Vietcong used the foliage to their advantage perfecting the art of concealment and surprise.<br>
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Crossing rivers and streams brought new hazards and obstacles to jungle warfare. After crossing a body of water time had to be spent inspecting our bodies for leaches. Each soldier had to strip down and be inspected by another soldier as soon as it was safe. Liquid bug repellant, known as bug juice, or a burning cigarette was used to remove the head of the leach embedded beneath the skin.<br>
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We worked the Vietnam Cambodian border for a month in beautiful lush green landscape. The only brake in the canopy was <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">the occasional natural contour of the land and other large extensive dry tracks of dead foliage void of life. Familiar with the chard flash fires of the Plain of Reeds there was no evidence of fire in these areas just dead trees, intertwined vines, and lifeless ground cover. Baffling the imagination it took on an eerie apocalyptic appearance. Militarily there was little ground cover for hiding and carrying out any sort of an offensive. Spending days crossing these voids we were now carrying out missions in defoliated areas of Agent Orange jungle sometimes as large as counties. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Agent Orange sprayed from helicopters over strategic areas of jungle.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjij9v2lia7B2ENCMeHDGH3wWWnZ_TCXHTECjFqylDVRdzCt9DQGCSesRZE9zvH4Qav6MYu8jWE3PMNxRU8TFf38xB_cvxAgJWgynnW3JDLyQVbVH_TBlR4EGHeMwg1aKf-2gQWrc6SYf0/s640/blogger-image-239365814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjij9v2lia7B2ENCMeHDGH3wWWnZ_TCXHTECjFqylDVRdzCt9DQGCSesRZE9zvH4Qav6MYu8jWE3PMNxRU8TFf38xB_cvxAgJWgynnW3JDLyQVbVH_TBlR4EGHeMwg1aKf-2gQWrc6SYf0/s640/blogger-image-239365814.jpg"></a></div>
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Fixed wing aircraft spraying Agent Orange crop duster style.<br>
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The Vietnam War was a new concept in fighting and called for new techniques to combat the buildup of munitions and arms suppled to our enemies. In previous wars two armies went head to head until the last man was standing or one of the combatants gave up or retreated. Vietnam proved different as guerrilla warefare drew in new concepts of fighting and Ho Chi Minh's revolutionary training was put to the test. The mentality of the U.S. superpower was to throw muscle at the problem and if the Vietcong was using the jungle to hide than the easiest way to deal with the problem was to destroy the jungle. Fireballs of Naplm bombs and B-52 bombing missions were costly and came dangerously close to allied forces fighting in close quarters. To combat the use of jungles by the Vietcong the U.S. came up with a new revolutionary concept of fighting using defoliating dioxins to kill the foliage. Agent Orange was sprayed on large tracks of land to defoliate the jungle and deprive the enemy of a covering element to carry out their missions. This was the new war in Southeast Asia.</div>
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Leaving little place to hide Vietcong supply routes are exposed by Agent Orange.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakOH8VOfQqrRkUZVZ4p4KxVZkvE9wqASps_FqfbDdJWNja_HztSUlWzZwCvXHfUor4-cSQI4SiptmTRwgL5OuQtqnX5UUyYZPvD4Nd_JrXdjHLrNCjQnI4k-ckmHD7yDYk3q3mN2dAMQ/s640/blogger-image-1013061468.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakOH8VOfQqrRkUZVZ4p4KxVZkvE9wqASps_FqfbDdJWNja_HztSUlWzZwCvXHfUor4-cSQI4SiptmTRwgL5OuQtqnX5UUyYZPvD4Nd_JrXdjHLrNCjQnI4k-ckmHD7yDYk3q3mN2dAMQ/s640/blogger-image-1013061468.jpg"></a></div>
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OPERATION RANCH HAND</div>
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Between 1962 and 1971 the U.S. dumped more than 10.6 million gallons of herbicide on Southeast Asia in order to deprive the enemy of ground cover provided by dense jungles and foliage. This massive defoliating project was called "Operation Ranch Hand," and was successful in defoliating an area the size of Massachusetts. Agent Orange, so named because it was shipped in orange striped 55-gallon drums, was sprayed from fixed and rotary wing aircraft. Agent Orange was also sprayed from trucks and backpacks to defoliate base camp perimeters, landing zones, and other areas. It is estimated that 2.4 million Americans were in Vietnam during Operation Ranch Hand. Ground forces were in areas during and immediately after spraying while others actually handled Agent Orange.</div>
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Veterans exposed to Agent Orange and it's dioxin contaminants began reporting a variety of symptoms upon returning home. These symptoms included: chloracne, chloracne formed lesions, liver damage, loss of sex drive, changes in skin color, sensitivity to light, numbness or tingling in extremities, psychological changes, sore joints, cancer, and birth defects in children. </div>
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In 1978 veterans began demanding that something be done. A Veterans Administration employee at the Chicago Regional Office Maude DeVictor began gathering information on the issue and was instrumental in generating publicity that opened the problem to public scrutiny. </div>
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Michael Ryan served a thirteen month tour of duty in Vietnam from August 1966 thru September 1967 in an area contaminated with Agent Orange. Upon returning home Michael, a police officer in Suffolk County New York, and wife Maureen had their second child in 1971. Kerry Ryan was born with multiple birth defects and sustained a life of wheelchairs, hospitals, and relentless setbacks in an otherwise bedridden state. Kerry died in 2006 of kidney failure associated with second generation birth defects associated with Agent Orange.<br>
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Michael and Kerry began what would become a decade long fight of public awareness and a three and a half decade long fight for survival. In 1979 and 1980 respectively the Ryan's were named in a class action lawsuit against Dow Chemicals, the maker of Agent Orange, and gaining national support travelled to Washington and testified before Congress. Michael and Kerry both wheelchair bound fought tiredlessly for government acknowledgement of Agent Orange issues for veterans. Kerry Ryan became a poster child for veterans rights. In 1982 the Ryan's wrote a book, "Kerry: Agent Orange and an American Family." </div>
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On the left Michael stands vigil at Kerry's bedside in 2006 and on the right decades earlier they testify before congress for veterans rights.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOQakFgApLBv7vyF6v3ofHNuraEJ8aqRQAEDBgtxaK-h6kDH_fSnh2ghst_PObloqAKx9advNH1cOu5Ci_bDJhf2lyP_el9vi6MnhrCPva80_DJSpf9d5GnDnOTXZ2MhzGRki9dj7T0M/s640/blogger-image--607351077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOQakFgApLBv7vyF6v3ofHNuraEJ8aqRQAEDBgtxaK-h6kDH_fSnh2ghst_PObloqAKx9advNH1cOu5Ci_bDJhf2lyP_el9vi6MnhrCPva80_DJSpf9d5GnDnOTXZ2MhzGRki9dj7T0M/s640/blogger-image--607351077.jpg"></a>Articles and brochures on display in THE ART OF WAR exhibition. </div>
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On May 7, 1984 all parties concerned in the litigation agreed to an out of court settlement. "Agent Orange" Product Liability Litigation was brought before Federal Judge Jack B. Weinstein in the Eastern District of New York. The defendant chemical companies agreed to pay $180 million to the plaintiffs which was comprised of Vietnam Veterans and their families. Various appeals delayed the distribution of the settlement fund for over four years and during that period the settlement grew to $240 million. It took ten years to distribute the funds fairly. A case by case solution was established to determine the amount to issue and study the effects of Agent Orange. Unfortunately veterans and their children were suffering and in some cases dying during this time. </div>
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Gina Marie Romeo, my youngest child, was born in 1995 the final year of the Agent Orange funds distribution but it would not be until several years later that we discovered the extent of her condition. She was hearing impaired with auditory processing disorders. At the time it never occurred to me to connect the dots and retrace my footsteps back through Vietnam pinpointing actual locations of my service. Gina Marie was my second child exhibiting similar symptoms along with additional birth defects in another. Having two children with similar conditions from separate mothers was to much of a coincidence and I began to investigate and fight on their behalf.</div>
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I subpoenaed my military and medical records and retraced my history back through Vietnam and specific area's of operation. The triple canopy jungle along the Vietnam Cambodian border where I carried out specific missions was the most contaminated and heavily sprayed area in all Southeast Asia. </div>
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In 1995 I filed my sixth case against entities related in some way to my Vietnam experience and for the sixth time I was successful. Monetary gain was not the driving force behind my quest but rather a sense of responsibility and accountability against all parties concerned. It seems my life has been an uphill fight for survival ever since I could remember and has been the mantra for my existence. The war was brought to me as a child and has remained a constant physical, psychological, and emotional thorn since it's inception. The struggle continues not only for veterans but for our children. Vietnam veterans are dying young and yet the legacy carries forward. An event that took place thirty years before my daughters birth will live with her forever and only time will tell if her offspring will bear the scars of the War in Southeast Asia.</div>
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The Special Master of Appeals United States District Court in Brooklyn NY graciously renders his decision. On behalf of Federal Judge Jack B. Weinstein they vote in my favor. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMTXz3HIrvccLXgCcQwFWxDamZ6kN2VZnuOfDda9reigUgHv0lpnD-0ornhlWmlQB3trIDq2pU3LwGmtHpfY-MidHRzB3rxCM8Nxu0-qZ87iHTc3d3znGmV85SH7RnQONV_aK6ROQhKLc/s640/blogger-image--1471889693.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMTXz3HIrvccLXgCcQwFWxDamZ6kN2VZnuOfDda9reigUgHv0lpnD-0ornhlWmlQB3trIDq2pU3LwGmtHpfY-MidHRzB3rxCM8Nxu0-qZ87iHTc3d3znGmV85SH7RnQONV_aK6ROQhKLc/s640/blogger-image--1471889693.jpg"></a>All articles and letters on file in THE ART OF WAR exhibition.</div>
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Letterhead Agent Orange Administration<br>
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The lush green jungles of Southeast Asia are home to countless plant and animal species. Located in Southern Laos, Central Western Vietnam, and Notheastern Cambodia this areas features lakes, streams, and of course the Mekong River that are fed by the annual Monsoon rains.</div>
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Spending an afternoon hiking into this water wonderland I was taken to this system of spring fed streams and waterfalls creating a surreal landscape of a reinvigorated Eco system. It was eerie to be back in the jungle again after so many years. The dampness and smell of a combined plant and earth compote brought back many memories. On this visit I could enjoy the peace and tranquility the jungle was intended for and relax knowing there was no enemy hiding in the bush.<br>
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NAMASTE !<br>
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Further hiking into the source of this wonderland I found this Eco system of water and foliage. I sat in awe of this magnificent scene and couldn't remember the horror the jungle once held for me. The Sun peaked through the canopy and danced across the mist filled air creating a haze only Mother Nature could create. Welcome to the jungle.<br>
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Some areas of the jungle are being reclaimed by world organizations like World Monuments Fund. Members of UNESCO contribute funds to clear out and restore ancient ruins the jungle has reclaimed. Preah Khan Temple is being restored under this project by the United States.<br>
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Coincidentally Preah Khan Temple was once a hiding place for Vietcong fighters during the war. The Vietcong would work and fight out of this temple and the local population would use it as a sanctuary when the American bombers attacked the surrounding area.<br>
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The names and dates of Vietcong fighters are etched in the ancient sandstone pillars.</div>
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1970-1972</div>
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Selfie in front of one of the many jungle trees that have grown back after the war.</div>
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The former Vietcong residents have given way to the new inhabitants, the monkeys.<br>
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-10943775674413949022014-10-28T02:07:00.000-07:002014-10-28T02:07:01.061-07:00THE PLAIN OF REEDS<div>
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We loaded our packs with as much food as we could carry before heading out. When orders came down from Headquarters we knew we were going far and staying for awhile. The Pineapple had kicked our ass but we were rested, fed, resupplied and heading out farther west than we had ever been before. Mirroring the sweeping operations of the Pineapple we had the added bonus of resupply routes and cachets of weapons to deal with. We were approaching the western border of Vietnam and the supply routes of the Vietcong's super hyghway the Ho Chi Minh Trail. The approaches to the trail and the connection routes into the Saigon were our new area of operations. Welcome to The Plain of Reeds.</div>
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A stronghold for Vietcong Guerrilla operations throughout the war it was formed by a depression in the Mekong River Basin and was sparsely populated. The harsh landscape was a bone dry Savana in the dry season and a flooded marshland during the Monsoons. In either case it was an unwelcomed scenario to deal with and an even harder one to negotiate during battle. Strategically this badlands was of no use other than a depot for supplies and a hideout for the bad guys. After the Spring Offensive and before the Monsoons started was our best window of opportunity to navigate this wasteland. Entering the dustbowl atmosphere at this time was the dryest and hottest time of year and made the transition from the wet Pineapple much more difficult.</div>
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This hostile battlefield was a perfect hideout and staging area for the Viet Minh forces fighting the French. Similarly today the Vietcong controlled the local population against U.S. and South Vietnamese forces. It was our job to set up camp and sweep through the area on small search and destroy missions coming dangerously close to the Cambodian border. Our objective was to seek out supplies, munitions, and cachets of weapons making their way into the hands of desperate Vietcong. The Spring Offensive had taken it's told on this rag tag army and they were in need of supplies. </div>
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Getting there was a familiar helicopter routine we had perfected in previous operations. Being air mobile had its advantages on long range missions but left us vulnerable to attack. There was no sneaking up on the enemy in the Pain of Reeds just an open dry approach of loud helicopter rotars kicking up tornadoes of dust. It was an entrance we could have done without but a necessary evil to get the job done. </div>
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Being first on the ground we set up as quickly as possible for the second arrival.<br />
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Once on the ground we hiked for two days to get to our new home and from there we would fan out on small search and destroy missions. The earthtones of the beige and brown landscape was void of life and dead straw like sticks gave the Plain of Reeds it's name. These dry reeds stood straight up from the cracked dry clay dirt making the footing hard and hot. There was a hot breeze blowing in our faces seemingly void of oxygen. Carrying seventy pound packs I welcomed a break in our pace and used the straw as a makeshift cushion.<br />
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Waking up from a power nap Peter snapped this picture of me. Around my waist are loaded magazine clips for my M-16 and I am hugging my hand grenades clipped to my chest for easy access. I sleep <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">with a grenade in my right hand as a precautionary measure in case I am taken prisoner and have no choice but to use it on myself. My head is resting on my canteen and a suitcase containing a Sarlight Scope. The scope was a revolutionary night vision device that could either be used as a telescope or mounted on my M-16 for sniper use. I could shoot a Vietcong in total darkness from so far away that he would never hear the shot and bullet that kills him. In the foreground is my shaving brush stuck in my helmet with an elastic band. I always shaved.</span></div>
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Trying to get out of the blistering sun Kennedy, a fellow soldier, sits on his helmet under a dry dead patch of Bamboo trees.<br />
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We came across several crypts in random cemeteries a good distance from any villages. Most of the headstones and crypts were bullet ridden from previous battles. Here we are recieving incoming rounds and use the cemetery as cover.<br />
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Working in six and eight man teams we crisscrossed the area for a week trying to beat the upcoming Monsoons and the rebirth of the plains. Hot blowing winds continued to make breathing an effort and trying to keep focused with dry eyes. A square mirage looking building appeared in the distance wiggling and rippling off the the hot mud caked ground in wavey patterns of heat. Sending in a <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">small team reinforced with backup was the plan and the cube was approached with care. It was a large tightly packed cachet of rockets and explosives so large it could only be moved by truck. Movement across the plains was by any means possible and was usually at night. The Vietcong left the cachets unattended during the day in hopes of not being discovered and returned to claim them at night. We could wait until nightfall but there was no place to hide and the element of surprise would be lost. </span></div>
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There was always that chance that our approach warned them or perhaps it was a trap and they were waiting in the wings, in either case this is what we came for. The markings were Chinese as most of the cachets were and now it was our job to deal with it. We were trained in explosives as Peter and I had executed on previous missions but today we had a special team on call. Blowing up rockets and other ordinances was a serious and tricky business to say the least so we had no problem letting the bomb squad do their job. </div>
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The unpredictable Vietcong undoubtedly knew why we were here and could decide to launch an attack at any moment. We were tredding in their backyard and depending on their needs and intentions we were vulnerable and far from home. Missions along the Cambodian border were always extremely dangerous especially when your not sure exactly where you are.</div>
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As the specialists rigged the cachet we set up ground cover upwind of the projected explosion. Careful not to get to close to this mining operation we were ready for anything in our repertoire of battlefield tricks. The explosion went off without a hitch at exactly the same time the wind changed direction. If I didn't know better I would have thought that the explosion was so powerful that it altered the direction of the wind. The steady onslaught of hot air at our backs was now in our faces and without a wasted minute we realized what was happening. We picked up our gear and began running and thus began what was to be one of the longest days in our tour. </div>
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We ran full speed away from the blast and the flames were right on our heels and gaining ground. The change in wind direction coupled with the dryness of the plain created a flash fire that was not only on our heels but flanked us in the process. Without options we ran in full gear until exhaustion set in. Haphazardly running in enemy territory was asking for trouble but we had no choice. Our options were limited as burn or run faced us and little else mattered. It was one hundred degrees and our nostrils were filled with dry hot soot clogging our poors with a combination of blackness and heat. We could hardly breath.</div>
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Our proficiency in battle was a given but outrunning a flash fire was not in the manual. At the end of the day we were safe from the ravenous flames but our location presented us with yet another problem. We were in Cambodian territory without orders and backup was nonexistent. The Cambodian government was in transition and the Khmer Rouge were coming into power, each fighting for supremacy and each was a force to be reckoned with. We had to get help quickly and to do so we had to cross the border once again and reset our position for extraction. With the mission completed our extraction point was a good days hike back through no mans land. Just trying to breath was an effort. Our legs were tired and our backs were week so we began dropping unnecessary equipment circumventing the ring of fire and taking the long way home. We did not make contact with the Vietcong and reached our extraction point on time. We were glad the nightmare mission known as the Plain of Reeds was over. </div>
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The emerald green expanse of The Plain Of Reeds.</div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The flat expanse of the southern Vietnam Cambodian border, better known as The Plain of Reeds, is a lush growing area for both countries during the wet season. With the exception of the occasional farmer and roadside stands there is nothing between Ho Chi Munh City and Phenom Penh to interest the average tourist. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The torrential rains of the annual Monsoons have just come to an end in southern Southeast Asia and I am traveling by bus through one of the greenest areas I've ever seen. The emerald backdrop of water soaked fields appears to be a devastated hurricane scene of flooded homes and livestock seen so many times in the last couple of years. This assumption couldn't be further from the truth. The people of the plains welcome the annual rains as they prepare their crops with makeshift systems of canals and dams.</span></div>
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Farmers work their livestock around the knee deep mud of rice fields.<br />
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Appearing to be a wasteland this scene is just what the farmer hopes for. Known as the "Rice Bowl" of Southeast Asia the rice from this area feeds most of Asia.<br />
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Palm trees and rice fields makes a picture postcard.<br />
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Farmers wade knee deep in water to plant, cultivate, and harvest rice crops.<br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">A wetland of wonder during the growing season of the Monsoons these flatlands are cracked and dry during the hot dry season. The season I remember as a soldier trying to find the Vietcong's hiding places in this vast unmarked region. For a moment I couldn't believe this was the same area we trekked during the war. The beautiful emerald green cradled small hamlets and villages once terrified by both the Allied Forces and the Vietcong. It was a welcomed sight to witness what nature had intended for this area without the egotistical greed of man and machines interrupting the natural order of things. </span></div>
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-65698527105972547552014-10-27T03:14:00.000-07:002014-10-27T03:14:10.049-07:00THE PINEAPPLE<div>
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By May the Tet Offensive was a memory and the only job remaining was mopping up the last of the Vietcong holdouts in the western approaches to Saigon. In conjunction with B-52 air strikes our unit killed 60 enemy and destroyed several base camps. Only one area remained to bring the spring offensive to an official end and nobody wanted the job. </div>
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The operation was far from glamorous and involved a considerable amount of hard work. It was a dangerous area full of booby traps, wetlands, rivers and streams with hidden displaced Vietcong holdouts infiltrating the local population. Without hesitation Delta was sent to this surreal landscape of mud flats along with our expertise of dealing with everything from the sublime to the rediculous. Welcome to The Pineapple.</div>
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The Pineapple was nothing less than hard dangerous work. If the mud wasn't enough the landscape was known for hidden bunkers protectected by mines and booby traps and anyone that entered sustained casualties. Our mission was to search and sweep by any means neccessity which translated meant one thing, we were treking by foot. Walking a dirt path or climbing on a dyke was a death wish and the only way to get the job done was the old fashion way and that was by hard work. We humped, fought, ate, and slept in mud that was sometimes up to our thighs. It was a nightmare to complete but we added another craft to our resume. Before the operation was over 1,732 bunkers and countless caches of weapons were destroyed either by hand or by air strikes directed from the ground. </div>
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Welcome to The Pineapple<br />
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Villages were built on any solid piece of earth. I took this picture just before sweeping through the village searching for Vietcong.<br />
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My picture was on the front cover of a magazine and was taken in The Pinapple. Here I am being pulled out of the mud by a fellow soldier as we worked a suspected Vietcong village.<br />
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Working The Pineapple on a dailey basis was taking its toll on us. Hundred degree days infested with snakes, mosquitoes, and of course Vietcong were wearing us thin along with the occasional firefight and booby trap blast. Only the strongest of the strong would survive this grueling mission of humping the lowland mud flats. Each step was a suction-cup event straining our calves and thighs to their limits as we high stepped each and every inch of this pastey mined turf. Our muscles ached and our feet were eaten raw from jungle rot and continuous moisture. When we had down time which was rare I took my boots and socks off along with the outer layer of skin. My bleeding feet oozed blood and puss from jungle rot as my socks and skin became one. Burning disinfectant powder was the only antidote to combat this flesh eating bacteria until another pair of dry socks could be found. My new socks were a comfort and seconded as a outer layer of skin.<br />
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Headquarters knew of our pain even before we went in and so they had a soft spot in their hearts for us. They needed us healthy for another mission so after weeks of arduous torture we set up a three day camp outside the Fish Net to regroup before the details of our next operation was revealed. </div>
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Fish Net served as a field headquarters southwest of Saigon in the Mekong region and was well fortified by artillery units. It was once a large manufacturing plant for marine products and supplied the local industry with needed supplies. Hidden deep within the bowls of this facility was a special new revolutionary machine. As a treat for our uncanny ability to do ridiculous odd jobs we were privy to this unique device and one of the first in the world to use it. </div>
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The Mars Phone was something out of a Jules Vern novel and looked just as comfortable on the pages of one of his books. It was equal to, if not surpassed, any of his outlandish concoctions. Half lit tubes and wires and half plywood construction material this futuristic machine allowed me to call home from my outpost in the middle of hell. </div>
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Motorola manufactured our backpack radios in the field and Motorola was responsible for the Mars Phone. Using a system of short wave radio transmissions a signal was bounced around the planet from tower to tower. Each time a local short wave radio tower would receive a transmission it would boost it and send it along to the next tower. Sometimes the next tower was only a few hundred miles away but off it went. Amateur HAM operators around the world received these transmissions and began manning their headsets on a regular basis. This process would repeat itself over and over again until a signal was picked up in North America. It was then patched into the Bell System. Bell would convert the signal into its main trunk line as an incoming call.<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> The initial contact could take as long as thirty minutes to complete depending on weather conditions. It sounded like calls made by WWII pilots to radio towers on land only this was from tower to tower. It was the future of communication.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Most of the unit wanted to eat a hot meal and get some rest but those of us willing to wait our turn were chose by a random order of selection. We were allowed entree by pairs as Dave and I stepped behind the curtain to meet the great and powerful OZ. OZ was an army radio specialist at the the helm of a dashboard lined with antiquated dials and glowing tubes. He played these dials like an electrical symphony asking us pertinent questions. I went first.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Behind the curtain was an eight foot square plywood room. In the middle of this Jules Vern masterpiece wias a seat and telephone which I was not permitted to touch until I was given the signal. I waited a full thirty minutes knowing the process had to be completed and carefully explained to the recieving party of what to expect. There was a five to ten second delay between transmissions and the word "OVER" had to end each short sentence like a period. At that point all parties involved knew it was their turn to speak. I sat and waited until I got the signal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">"Hello who is this, Over," I asked? </span></div>
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"Frank is that you, Over, the voice answered. </div>
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Suddenly I froze, it was my beautiful mothers voice speaking to me in the middle of hell. I choked back the tears knowing I had to pull myself together for her sake. Perhaps this wasn't a good idea after all but I was already committed. I had to choose my words carefully knowing I had the delay working in my favor. I reassured her I was in a good place and out of harms way with an easy job. I asked about the rest of the family. She spoke softly as mothers do when they're nurchering their children and with each passing word my heart broke. A firefight would have been easier as I broke down in tears and the call ended.</div>
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Trading places with Dave I waited with him for the allotted amount of time. He got the signal and shouted his greeting and sat down as I left the booth. Suddenly I was thrown towards the middle of the room with shattered splinters of wood dusting me. Dave was lying face down. Scrambling towards each other we knew we were under attack and our first priority was to get back to our unit. </div>
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The greeting to his mom and the easiness of her voice relaxed this inner city kid from Chicargo just enough to allow him to sit and enjoy the moment. It was that moment that saved our lives and brought us back to the reality of survival. A moment in time changes the course of history and everything must work out just right to complete the journey. If one thing changes then everything changes as events meander through time and history fulfilling a destiny. Although Dave never made his call his mom will never know the role she played in todays events and completing a cycle we will never understand.</div>
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I took this picture from our camp, this was The Fish Net. Within the confines of this makeshift tomb lie Jules Vern's futuristic magic talking machine.<br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"Hello who is this, Over," I asked? </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"Frank is that you, Over, the voice answered. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">For the second time in my life I called my mother from The Mekong Delta and for the second time I had tears in my eyes. My beautiful mother's voice immediately brought me back to a time and place when times were hard. She went through the war with me as do all parents and suffer along with their children. I tried to put myself in their shoes but didn't know how. How do families especially parents cope with the reality of war and the loss of a child. They dedicate blood sweat and tears to raise a child for eighteen years only to have them taken away for the needs of others. In hindsight it doesn't equate and that goes for both sides. War is a demon that encompasses and strains not only soldiers but societies as well. Todays society is stretched to its limits and cannot take anymore. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I caught myself in deep thought and snapped back to reality to continue my conversation. My youngest brother Nick reads my Blog to Mom everyday. She is 90 years old this year and I'm blessed to share my journey with this beautiful women again. She was with me then and she is with me now.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I love you mother, thank you.</span></div>
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Welcome to The Pineapple.</div>
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The lush growth of the Mekong Delta allows fruit bearing trees to produce an abundance of delicious fruit. The temperature was close to 100 degrees and the lanes created by orchard rows makes for an inviting walk. I'd forgotten how hot it was here but the heat coupled with the musky jungle aroma immediately brought me back. Some things you never forget.<br />
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Simple quaint houses are nestled in jungle settings like props in a movie. Everything, right down to the sleeping dog, seemed to be placed in position like on a movie set shooting. Once a battleground of egos and madmen this simple style living is now a paradise and as far from the reality of war as possible.<br />
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Cocoa ready for harvest.<br />
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Watching the crops grow.<br />
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Jak fruit on the vine.<br />
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Mangoes<br />
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I was treated to a luncheon of Jasmin Tea and fruit. Front left-Dragon Fruit, Front right-mango,</div>
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Left rear-pineapple, Back middle-mini banana, Back right-Rambutan<br />
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Raising bee's for honey is a profitable business. Sticking my hand into a swarm of bees </div>
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This 8 foot Python is raised for food. As I held the Python I could feel his power wrapping himself around me and when it got to strong I asked for help.</div>
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Ok I'm on an adventure but this is rediculous. Tarantulas are a delicacy in this part of the world. They are deep fried and sometimes covered in chocolate. </div>
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-83934116201310426062014-10-26T03:04:00.000-07:002014-10-26T03:04:10.644-07:00CHILDREN OF THE DELTA<div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">South of Ho Chi Minh City the Mekong River forms it's delta and one of the most furtile growing areas in the world. Nutrient rich silt carried by the mighty </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Mekong River flows over a thousand miles from China, through Laos and Cambodia and </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">into Vietnam sustaining life for the people of the Delta. Agriculturally rich villages of the region were the heart and soul of Vietnam making it a highly prized area and historically one of the most fought over. Strategically important to both sides it saw some of the heaviest fighting of the war. Until 1966 the Vietcong controlled most of the northern half of the Delta until the 1968 Tet Offensive and South Vietnam regained controll over in more villages. The Vietcong still held a strong presence in roughly 500 strategic hamlets until the Fall Of Saigon and the 1975 Ho Chi Minh Offensive when the entire region fell into chaos.</span></div>
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During the war the farmers and families of the Delta were rocked by continued violence and payed a high price. Vietcong controlled hamlets gave way to South Vietnam controlled villages and many times fighting was just between villages as the U.S. tried to sort out who was who. During this occupation and fighting no one suffered more than the children of the Delta. </div>
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Grass huts, palm trees, and animals wandering aimlessly through a paradise-like<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> setting was the backdrop of this region. Canals large and small crisscrossed a quiltwork of rectangular hand built dykes housing mud thick enough to hold the weight of a small person. Village after village seemingly innocent and appearing identical held danger around every grass but. Lulling the soldier into a false sense of security by the paradise appeal of the scenery it was the the children of the delta that made the difference. Children playing was always a welcomed sight. Afraid of reprisals most villages kept a neutral attitude when faced by both the U.S. and Vietcong forces but the children were the key. Children playing meant a booby trap free area in most cases and the village was approachable but always with a sense of caution. Approaching a lifeless village with no noticeable activity was a totally serious endeavor and we always had to keep in mind that anything was possible. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">On a day as beautiful as these innocent faces we swept through a friendly village taking a moment to play. Sharing candy and piggy back rides they walked us out of the fields and into their world. I took pictures of my new friends communicating without language on a simpler human level. The innocence of children in a world of chaos was out of place yet there they were and it was a welcomed change. </span></div>
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Children love posing for pictures as much as I loved taking them. This little guy stepped forward from the group and looked like any American child looking for favor or a treat. He was an instant star.<br />
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Intelligence came in that the Vietcong controlled a Hamlet near our area of operations and Delta was called in to sweep through and secure a suspected village. Working from house to house we cleared the area and set up camp within earshot. Posting guards at either end so no one would get in or out was an all day vigil. Strategically important to the operation we camped there for a week working night ambushes in all directions. </div>
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Our unit was rarely in one place for any length of time so this operation was a welcomed change from the helicopter jumping firefights and overland humping expeditions of our regular routine. We relaxed enough to spend time with the villagers. The area was loaded with children and they came out everyday to meet and greet the mysterious men from a foreign land. They were as entrolled with us as we were with them as we played in the midday sun. A canal backed up by a dam created a bathing hole for the village and a safe place for the children to play. </div>
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We were treated to a bath Vietnam style with the children as our hosts. Nightly ambush missions gave way to daytime play. Relaxing our tired bodies we kept an eye on the village for any Vietcong activity. I enjoyed interacting on a child's level knowing we were there mainly because of them and so we became friends and becoming friends with a child was as innocent as life can get.</div>
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There is always one child that stands out in a crowd and this third world neighborhood was no different. For whatever unknown reason the creator might have or perhaps it was only circumstance and chance but this little one had an attitude that was hard to ignore. He called me "Number One" and I played with him and his friends daily. Unlike the other kids he refused candy insisting on a cigarette at every opportunity and I gave it to him.<br />
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My little friend is on my shoulders smoking a cigarette while I hold his buddies up by their arms. </div>
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The dam in the foreground was hit by a rocket and made the canal perfect for our needs.</div>
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Working night ambushes had its perks and I took advantage of them every chance I could. Volunteering for this duty was risky but left you with some free hours during the day. If we weren't under attack I could rest and let someone else work the day shift while I played with my little buddy. As soon as he saw me he asked for a cigarette then helped me out of my muddy clothes and boots. In the bathing hole he scrubbed the mud off my boots and washed my back. I in tern gave him C-Rations for his family and of course cigarettes for himself.<br />
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Night operations were uneventful simply because of our presence in and around the suspected Vietcong village. If we were attacked it would be at the most inopportune time when our guards were down. We worked day and night to maintain the upper hand always keeping on the offensive.</div>
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It was an uneventful night as I came in from my mission and so I went immediately to the watering hole. The childrens activity level was low and out of sync as the others joined me. There was a sense of uneasiness in the air as one of the soldiers felt an unusual object just below the water level. Reaching in he pulled out a mine and detonation wire that lead to my little friend. </div>
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Knowing he was sent by an elder in the village I had no choice but to grab him for for the authorities, if there was such a thing. The questions were simple and direct, "where do you live and with who"? The outgoing nature of my little friend responded in cadence with the questions and he rambled on as they took him away, cigarette dangling.</div>
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When we heard the shots we knew members of his family were dead if not the entire family as the South Vietnamese Army sent a loud and clear message to the other villagers. Our suspected Vietcong village was in fact just that, a Vietcong village. The children and the circumstances surrounding the incident was hard for my young mind to understand? The<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> following morning brought an even greater disbelief of the surreal world I found myself in. The dead bodies of the boys family were laid out in the dirt path leading to the village. Weither it was a show of support for us or to teach a lesson it drove home a poignant message. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Life was cheap in Vietnam as we stretched the boundaries of sanity and fell deeper into the abyss. I was angry but why was I and who should I direct my anger at? Should I be upset that I was fooled by my little friend or angry that children were being used as pawns in this war of attrition. I didn't know. All I knew was that I was in it up to my neck and I found myself in a daily reality check of my sanity. Today I lost a friend. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Searching for the innocence only found in the faces of the children I sailed down the waterways of The Mekong Delta and into the long lost world of waterways, jungles, dirt paths, and water buffalo. In this muddy nutrient rich soil lies a secret world of a quiet easy going people living away from the rat race modern world. These are the self sustaining self sufficient Vietnamese of the delta silently going about their lives and raising their families.</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">This was my first real visit to a jungle setting and it was so familiar that I could close my eyes and smell the musky bok choy fragrent air without stepping out of the boat. I've thought about my little friend, the one I left 45 years ago and wondered if he made it out alive. Perhaps he died that fatal day or perhaps he is a tour guide or boat operator. In any case I was here and it was impressive. Some grass huts still remained but many were made of newer construction with more modern materials nestled in the backdrop of gardens and orchards.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I found this san-pan (flat bottomed canoe) in a backwater canal and took a selfie. It looks older than I am. Apparently the mode of transportation hasn't changed.</span><br />
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My old friend the water buffalo, I wonder if he remembers me. It was close to 100 degrees and my friend had the right idea. I would have loved to jump in but that watering hole wasn't big enough for the two of us. <br />
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The faces haven't changed only my perspective of life in the delta. When I looked into the innocence of the children's faces I saw a world I left behind a long time ago. There was no enemy anymore so there was no need to hide and be nervous on this visit. On this visit I could talk and play and share different worlds and put my guard down. They of course had no reason to even think about the things that were going through my head. Their only job was to go to school and play without fear like every child should. </div>
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This beautiful women showed me around the village and posed with a baby from her town.<br />
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My next little friend had just come home from school and was looking for something to eat, sounds familiar doesn't it.<br />
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Every child I met that posed for a picture gave me the peace sign. Peace little one.<br />
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Finally one child stood still for the old man from a foreign land.<br />
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The Delta was not as I left it, it was better than ever. Working their little farms for self sufficiency or profit was working for them. The world had passed them by and left them alone and it was for the best. Even on a hot day they smiled and were as cordial as could be. The children were taught manners and the preciousness of life their parents and grandparents earned for them. Someday they'll learn what it took to gain that life and the struggle on both sides. Someday they'll either love or hate like the rest of us but not today. Today I came in peace and shared an afternoon with The Children Of The Delta.</div>
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-81969654019531279322014-10-25T08:35:00.000-07:002015-04-02T12:04:32.569-07:00CU CHI<div>
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The Ho Chi Minh trail was the super highway for supplies heading south along the Cambodian border until it crossed over into Vietnam. Lying between this strategic border crossings and Saigon the capital of South Vietnam lies the small village of Cu Chi. Just 25 miles north of Saigon it was astride a direct supply route needed by the Vietcong to fortify their upcoming Tet Offensive. The Vietcong leaders decided to construct a complex to support the surrounding area and made their headquarters underground at Cu Chi.</div>
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Dense clay made it possible to construct a series of tunnels three and four levels deep with interlocking chambers making it a military engineering marvel. Containing hospitals, classrooms, armories, kitchens, and living quarters it stretched for hundreds of kilometers. Ventilation shafts allowed occupants to remain underground with well concealed trap doors at key locations for fast entry and exit. Containing many hidden doors and passages it was a tremendous Vietcong tactical advantage to have such a complex so close to Saigon. </div>
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Life in the tunnels was difficult even under the best of conditions. Infested with ants, centipedes, scorpions, spiders, and vermin along with scarce supplies of food and water made it necessary to stay for only short periods of time. Most times soldiers would spend the day in the tunnels resting and come out at night for food and engaging the enemy. During heavy bombing or American troop movement Vietcong were forced to remain underground for longer periods of time. Malaria was rampant for the occupants and became the second largest cause of death next to battle wounds for the Vietcong. Half of most Vietcong units had malaria and almost 100% had intestinal parasites.</div>
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The Tunnels of Cu Chi were discovered in January 1966 by elements of the U.S. 1st Infantry Division along with 173rd Airborne Brigade and it suddenly became apparent the challenges tunnel warfare would impose. When the 25th Infantry Division set up headquarters in Cu Chi they assumed the responsibility of clearing the tunnels and it was a daunting task. For a month the units were attacked from the rear by Vietcong emerging from various holes in the ground as they tried to set up camp. </div>
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Underground classrooms, hospitals, sleeping quarters, and munitions depots were so well constructed they have stood the test of time.<br>
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Life underground was difficult for the Vietcong and exemplified a determination unmatched by the Allied Forces. These narrow tunnels are only three feet high in some places.<br>
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Guerrilla Warefare, hit and run tactics, an enemy hiding in plain site, and now tunnel warefare was added to an arsenal of a relentless enemy. Vietnam was a new type of war and we were flying by the seat of our pants and not doing a very good job of it. The United States tried tear gas, acetylene gas, and explosives until they finally realized they <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">had no idea how to deal with the tunnels and thus the Tunnel Rat was born.</span><br>
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Born out of necessity the Tunnel Rat was an off shoot of the infantry and one of the most unique jobs in all the military. Only the U.S. Army's 1st and 25th Infantry divisions maintained formal units that were very small and contained only two squads each. Squads were no more than a dozen men specially trained for underground warefare. Each team had a radio telephone operator (RTO), <span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">a medic, and two former Vietcong acting as advisors and translators. The rest of the team were underground fighters capable of transversing the small dark musty clay packed tunnels with nothing more than a handgun, a knife, and a flashlight. Standard procedure required three men in a tunnel at any given time. In the case of Cu Chi the men were down in the complex for half the day inching their way past intersections and secret passages in darkness. Most Tunnel Rats were wounded at least once but the psychological pressure of the job was overwhelming.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">On display in THE ART OF WAR EXHIBIT exhibit. Vietnam relies on tourism as a major industry. It cost 65,000 Dong, about $3.00, for entry.</span><br>
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Tunnel warefare was not exclusive to Cu Chi. Vietnam was catty combed with tunnel complexes and our area of operation was no exception. After leaving BMB we were headed into the Vietcong's backyard where many of the routes of the Ho Chi Minh Trail filtered through. Here storage depots and tunnels were the norm. Delta was the 199th's best unit but we were not equipped to deal with tunnels and tunnel work was just what we needed in this new area. Command knew what we were up against so before we left we were blessed.<br>
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Army issue Bible circa 1965,<br>
This Bible was handed out during a field mass and I carried it for the duration of my tour.<br>
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It was spring and rather than spring showers and blooming flowers we were given a Christian Easter send off. Headquarters knew what was in store for us so they sent their best Chaplin and handed out mini Bibles. The entire event was documented by a reporter. The service was familiar to me being raised a Catholic and <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I assumed the non-Christians were there for the festivities. This article hit New Yorks Newsday April 7,1969 and was Delta's big send off.</span></div>
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The article states elements of the 199th Light Infantry Brigade</div>
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received Chaplin Burleson's blessing.<br>
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Looking down at my M-16 with one hand and clutching my new Bible with the other I received my blessing from the Chaplin in anticipation for this offensive. Not knowing when and where an attack would come we were always on alert. The Chaplin spoke of courage during battle and the need to keep one's fate in the face of adversity. He asked God to lead us to victory as I suddenly awoke from my religiously induced trance trying to make the connection between God and killing humans on the battlefield. Was the battlefield the key I thought, was that the difference between killing someone in everyday life and being blessed before I kill someone on the battlefield? Was killing someone I know worse than killing a total stranger as long as it was sanctioned by a Chaplin. I had his blessings so I assumed it was a go. My mind meandered in and around thoughts catching fragments of his sermon then suddenly it hit me. Was the Vietcong simultaneously having an epiphany with their deity, were they assembled under outstretched hands praying for victory, if so, would the stronger God win the battle? If that were the case then why not let the Gods fight it out and I could go home. That was the moment I lost religion.<br>
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The call came and we hit the ground running. Our sister unit was pinned down with no visible way out and recieving heavy casualties. Artillery and air support were not an option due to the helter skelter scattering of the unit and close contact with the enemy. There was only one way in and that was to fight our way in but we had to get there first. They were trapped in a low lying wet area of triple canopy jungle at least a full days march away. </div>
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In full gear and armed to the teeth we hacked our way through heavy jungle until we broke through then forced marched eating on the go. Half the day and half the night we pushed on needing all the blessings we could get. Tom our radio operator was always in contact with the unit as cries for help came through loud and clear. Their radio operator was alone, separated from his unit, and pinned down with darkness setting in.</div>
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His name was Kelly and Tom talked him through the ordeal reassuring him help was on the way. His pleas for help and the sound of gunfire filled Toms head with horror as we pressed on. Tom refused to let him off the radio and that was just fine with Kelly because he was shacky and losing control. Tom continued talking and reassuring him, he needed to hang on as exhaustion set in. We were beyond feelings of pain with full gear and extra ammo. The added sweltering heat and bugs was a nightmare in progress as we pressed on throughout the day and into the night. Under the hood, as we called it, was how we read our coordinates and we were careful not to expose any light. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">A poncho was draped over one of our heads as we read the compass by flashlight and adjusted our course accordingly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">As we approached a swampy lower lying area of jungle we knew we were close, it was dark now and the fighting had stopped. Grateful we didn't have to fight our way in we found Kelly and Tom attended to him as the rest of us spread out in the wet undergrowth. Totally drained of all energy we paired up with a soldier from the other unit that was already asleep. In total darkness we waited till dawn.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">At first light the horror of our world was realized, we were sleeping with dead soldiers. Death and destruction permiated the damp musty morning air as half the unit was killed in this makeshift watery grave and there was more to come. Our only recourse to elude the fate of our sister unit was to regress the way we came in. Some of us carrying the dead soldier we slept we now had the extra burden of dead weight. </span></div>
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The defoliated jungle of Cu Chi was only one of many new growth jungles in Vietnam. It was strange to hear the guide call this scrub growth a jungle but after I thought about it the new growth was doing quite well considering it's devastation. After the tunnels were discovered B-52 strikes leveled the area along with defoliating the area to uncover the real Tunnels of Cu Chi.<br>
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Selfie in new growth jungle.<br>
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As I walked through the area entrance and exits to the underground complex were clearly marked. This hole connected two tunnels that led in different directions.<br>
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Descending 60 feet deep into the bowels of the earth the last chamber coincided laterally with the Mekong River water level. As the water table of the river rose so to did the near bye ground water supplying the third chamber with fresh water. Cooking areas were designed with muffler chambers to contain the smoke .until the proper time. During the morning the smoke was slowly released into the misty jungle air and blended in. Five foot high ant hills were a common site in the jungle and a natural occurrence.<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> Bamboo air shafts were burrowed through the core hiding them from view and allowed the Vietcong to breath underground. </span></div>
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Using the contour of the land and all natural material the Vietcong defeated their enemy.<br>
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Nick, an ex UK Matine shows the overall size of the tunnels.</div>
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The scope and enormity of the complex was impressive but what impressed me most was the strength this engineering marvel had. The bomb craters were still visible and allowed you to see their penetration. B-52's left 500 pond bomb craters that may have reached depths deep enough to destroy normal bunkers but this was no normal bunker. The second and third chambers were not touched allowing the Vietcong to continue fighting and had to be cleared by hand. </div>
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-73345318889665375382014-10-24T04:23:00.000-07:002014-10-24T04:23:21.316-07:00HO CHI MINH CITY<div>
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WARNING: CONTAINS SENSITIVE MATERIAL AND IMAGES</div>
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On April 30, 1975 the Communist's captured Saigon and officially ended the war in Vietnam and a military administration took control. One year later general elections were held for a single National Assembly which convened the following month declaring a reunified Vietnam. It was to be called the Socialist Republic of Vietnam or SRV with it's capital in Hanoi and Saigon would be renamed Ho Chi Minh City.<br />
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The Communist Party retained it's monopoly on power and immediately following the Fall Of Saigon conducted a political purge in the south. Many political officials were killed but less than the bloodbath Washington had predicted. Thousands of political and military officials were sent to reeducation programs to undergo physical and mental discomfort better known as tortue. Many were forced out of the cities, especially Ho Chi Minh City, to work in new agricultural areas and get the country back on an economic track. </div>
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Vietnam had always been a poor country and now it was a devastated bombed out poor country with agriculture being it's best option for growth. Any means possible were used to raise funds including sending 200,000 workers to China and confiscating 40% of their pay. Left were the fragments of war in the form of scrap metal which kept the recycling furnaces busy for years to come. Over one billion dollars of unused U.S. Military equipment was left behind and Vietnam became an exporter of surplus American war parts and machines. </div>
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Famine and failed economic policies plagued the new Republic for years until a new socialist incentive reform was instituted. One such reform was opening up to capitalism and going against everything they had fought so hard for, the other was tourism. Vietnam became a tourist destination for the world and in doing so it advertised a "David and Goliath" war victory over the United States. </div>
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A tourist brochure advertising a young Vietnamese girl holding a nuclear symbol for a modern Vietnam and a farm tractor in the background for an old Viatnam.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhetvJUt-KEqVAEyc9F3_PklyTAV92QUyMlPCbAjwJyBN7lOszxHLc5-fSgGgpe53BriE6lCBHHc0wLKO11EmwTFCmwiLMr7BOVlA_VLQ3gbmUBGCXXmUd8-aF9HScadUwKZGflht0Lb8/s640/blogger-image--252733640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhetvJUt-KEqVAEyc9F3_PklyTAV92QUyMlPCbAjwJyBN7lOszxHLc5-fSgGgpe53BriE6lCBHHc0wLKO11EmwTFCmwiLMr7BOVlA_VLQ3gbmUBGCXXmUd8-aF9HScadUwKZGflht0Lb8/s640/blogger-image--252733640.jpg" /></a>All brochures and pamphlets are on display in THE ART OF WAR exhibit. </div>
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WAR REMNANTS IN VIETNAM is a popular tourist attraction in Ho Chi Minh City and is a collection of war memorabilia left from the Vietnam War. Tourists from all over the world come to this museum and are handed this brochure. In it are pictures and descriptions of atrocities committed by American soldiers during the war. To the average non American young adult the images reflect a horrifying glimpse into the U.S. War machine and what it is capable of. This is how the world see's Americans.</div>
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Vietnam was a new type of war that called for new and better ways of killing the enemy. Cluster bombs, beehive bombs, and bombs that could suck all the oxygen out of the air for a considerable distance were some of America's modern weaponry. Here a victim of a fragmentation bomb is treated.<br />
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INTERROGATION TECHNIQUES </div>
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An APC (army personnel carrier) drags a Vietcong during interrogation.<br />
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Many times interrogation relied on torture.<br />
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When interrogating multiple combatants it is a practice to use one as the victim believing the others will talk. Here one Vietcong is thrown from a helicopter in order to gain information from the others.<br />
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Napalm was one of the U.S.'s more unique weapons. After impact a napalm bomb would spread a jelly like substance similar to sterno jelly used for cooking food in all directions which burned for an extended period at extremely high temperatures.<br />
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidoj8aPK-CA67S8FTr-jjoc8oT5N0BKUC1inh_1GHm2DGsAXmeFC4K7z_3uOW1Y2nsERIUjPMbfpbfaw3yzqN-aidzEDfk8eHjPGCVm7Ygb18IGOEPJY3oBEB1c3xQE7VP0tXbFEYW024/s640/blogger-image--721868958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidoj8aPK-CA67S8FTr-jjoc8oT5N0BKUC1inh_1GHm2DGsAXmeFC4K7z_3uOW1Y2nsERIUjPMbfpbfaw3yzqN-aidzEDfk8eHjPGCVm7Ygb18IGOEPJY3oBEB1c3xQE7VP0tXbFEYW024/s640/blogger-image--721868958.jpg" /></a>On March 16, 1968 U.S. soldiers of the Americal Division executed as many as 500 women, children, and old men in the most horrific atrocity of the Vietnam War. Soldiers of the 1st Platoon commanded by 1st Lt. William Laws Calley, Jr indiscriminately shot people then rounded up the survivors, led them to a ditch, and execute them. Equally horrific was the coverup of the incident by the army. Lack of leadership by Jr. Officers such as Shake and Bakes were cited as one of the reasons for the incident by the Criminal Investigation Division of the Army. </span></span></div>
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The Vietcong had infiltrated an area strategic to the supply route between Cambodia's Ho Chi Minh Trail and the outskirts of Saigon and Delta was sent in to clear it out. It was heavy jungle and movement was slow which ultimately helped alert our adversaries as we hacked our way through triple canopy growth. After a day of relentless exhaustion we saw no signs of Vietcong activity and unsure of our position we set up for the night. </div>
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This was a very large area to cover for our small unit so we were joined by the rest of the company including an additional officer. We were trained to work alone without supervision and taking orders was hard but today we had no choice. Most of the field officers were ROTC (reserve officers training corp) and were right out of college. They served weekends and studied military tactics in school but had little to no experience in combat. Apon graduation the army gave them officer status which meant we had to follow orders from non-experienced college students our own age. Most times they were useless so we simply called them "Shake and Bakes". We knew it was going to be a farce the moment we laid eyes on him. He had two pearl handled revolvers strapped to his hips and not only did he look rediculous but he was useless. </div>
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The Captain's compass readings had been off all day and rather than ask one of us for help <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">he continued to give orders right up until dark. As we took turns on guard duty and sleeping the Captain was busy planning the next days activities including trying to figure out our position. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">A large explosion hit the tree line above us and rocked our position showering us with white hot glowing embers that sizzled their way downward sifting through the growth. It was a marking round. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Marking rounds were called in for various reasons and one reason was to get a fix on a location. Soldiers in the field would ask an artillery unit to fire a marking round into the distance and after the explosion we would count the time between the flash of light and the sound of the blast. By calculating the time between the two and converting it into a ratio comparing the speed of light and the speed of sound you can calculate distance and that distance gives you an approximate location. It's like watching a lightening and thunder storm on a hot summer night, we called it flash to bang. The marking round was an ingenious addition to the U.S. arsenal of new weapons. It was made of white phosphorous which when exposed to oxygen burns white hot at extremely high temperatures giving off a very bright light. The white phosphorous will continue to burn as long as oxigen is present. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">This was not a morter attack common in this area but I wasn't sure exactly what it was. Putting on my steel pot to shield my head I hunkered down and watched the glowing embers floating through the air sizzling their way to earth. Watching fireflies on a hot summer night my mind wandered for a bit until the smell and cries of burning flesh permiated the air. There was no stopping the white phosphorous on its death march until it burned out or oxygen was withdrawn from its presence. It sizzled right through them leaving the stench of burnt hair and meat behind. We could do nothing but watch and pray for a quick end. Four of our men lie dead.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Our pearl handled Shake and Bake called in a marking round with coordinates way to short and with an extended delayed timer it hit us in a direct assault that the Vietcong would have been proud of. We layed with the dead burnt bodies until daylight and the choppers could get in. Two helicopters came, one for the bodies and one to relieve the officer which was probably for the best. Shake and Bake's of his caliber don't last very long and are sometimes relieved of duty by friendly fire. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Life was cheap in Vietnam, not that Vietnam was different from any other madness associated with death and new ways of creating it. Capitalists were ingenious during the war years as the minions carried out their every whim. Another day came to an end in Southeast Asia with new memories etched into my mind. </span></div>
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Unlike the old world of Hanoi, Ho Chi Minh City is a vibrant colorful city taking its place on the world stage. If I were to compare the two cities on my pallet I would paint Hanoi with earthtones and Saigon in pastels. I say Saigon at the request of the residents of the 8 million plus people that still refer to this new city in old terms, it's a paradox.</div>
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In America most families have two vehicles and if this theory holds true for Saigon there are 16,000,000 scooters within the city limits. Saigon is known as the scooter city and the normal rules of the road do not apply. There is no rhyme or reason to this mass hysteria call traffic and driving against traffic or on the sidewalk is acceptable behavior. </div>
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Walking across the street is a taking your life in your hands type of adventure and I equate it to another tour of duty in Vietnam every time I attempt it. I'm told to start walking and don't stop until you get to the other siide. If you stop walking you will get hit so I tried it. Sure enough the scooters went every which way and avoided me. I crossed the street, it was a miracle.<br />
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Everyone rides scooters. This couple is out for the evening and wearing surgical masks to avoid exhaust fumes.<br />
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Picking up junior from school while he eats an after school snack.<br />
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<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b>IF YOU RECEIVED THIS POST BY AUTO NOTIFICATION CLICK ON THE PTSD GENERATION VIETNAM LINK BELOW,</b> <b>THEN FOLLOW THE SAME INSTRUCTIONS.</b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-33108443985269444092014-10-23T03:38:00.000-07:002015-04-07T04:29:44.892-07:00THE FALL OF SAIGON<div>
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The Geneva Conference of 1954 officially ended the War in Southeast Asia and by 1956 world attention was focused on the Mekong River Basin. The Mekong River Project drew countless countries to Southeast Asia including the United States and between 1956 and 1960 the U. S. began funneling money into a pro American South Vietnamese government. In 1963 President Kennedy aware of a coup sanctioned the overthrow of a belligerent noncompliant regime resulting in the murder of South Vietnamese <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">President Diem and his staff. </span><br>
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April 30, 1975 ended U.S. involvement in Southeast Asia. Including the Fall Of Saigon the United States had been involved <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">in Vietnamese affairs in one way or another for more than twenty years following the end of the Korean War on July 27, 1953. The transition was less than cordial and in many cases an outright bloodbath leaving Indochina in worse condition than the French. </span></div>
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It had been 30 years since Ho Chi Minh began his fight to see his beloved Vietnam reunited under one flag and in April 1975 his dream would be realized. It was called the Ho Chi Minh Campaign and it gave the Democratic Republic of Vietnam (DRV) the decisive victory it needed and fought so long and hard for. Hanoi decided after the collapse of the Army of Republic of Vietnam (ARVN) or South Vietnamese Army in several key war zones that Saigon should be taken before the rainy season. Setting their sites on a victory by May 19th, their dead leaders birthday, the Ho Chi Minh Campaign went into full swing. </div>
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In early April regiments of North Vietnam's Army blocked roads in and around Saigon while crippling Bien Hoa airfield with artillery. Cadres of sappers infiltrated the city dismantling transportation and blocking river traffic. Thirty-five miles north of Saigon in Xuan Loc fighting was fierce as North Vietnam's pilots attacked the presidential palace. </div>
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Using the genocide in Cambodia to their advantage North Vietnam was confident of no interference as the U.S. was kept busy evacuating refugees from the Khamer Rouge regime under Pol Pot. Even at the eleventh hour many of Saigon's elite could not believe the United States would abandoned them. Many officials and Washington visitors acted as if a settlement could be reached and went about their daily routines even with talk of an impending coup. </div>
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On April 21st President Thieu resigned in favor of Vice-President Huong but did little to slow the onslaught as forces now blocked all major routes from Long Bien in north Saigon to the Delta in the south. By April 25th Saigon was isolated and Xuan Loc fell as artillery bombardments and ground assaults entered Saigon proper in the east. Artillery then crippled Tan Son Nhat Airport stopping a mass exodus by air and reassuring that no help would arrive. On April 28th President Nuong, only in office for a week, resigned in favor of President Minh as captured aircraft continued to attack airfields and major arteries sealing Saigon's fate. </div>
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For Americans April 30,1975 was the day of reconning as the final pull out and evacuation of the masses tried to connect with helicopters, ships, and planes. The evacuation was untimely poorly executed and chaotic to say the least and only a third of Washington's at risk personnel and Vietnamese employees escaped. On April 30, 1975 President Minh ordered all South Vietnamese forces to cease fighting and lay down their arms. The Ho Chi Minh Campaign had achieved it's goal and the war in Southeast Asia was over.</div>
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I tried to look away and wipe the tears from my eyes and pretend it didn't matter. I was a man and conditioned to be hard and strong and I tried to remember all I was taught. My soldiering days were over and replaced with a pain that just wouldn't go away. Not a physical pain for the muscle and sinu pain was my realm and I welcomed it for it gave me life. No, this was a pain from within that I didn't have a grip on and so I tried to look away but was instantly fixated on those images now embedded in my mind. The ward was silent or so it was to me and the audio on the TV wasn't necessary, the images spoke for themselves. </div>
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On April 30, 1975 I was in a psychiatric ward at the Veterans Hospital in Northport New York trying to get a handle on the images in my head when I was bombarded with images on TV of a society in ruins that I helped create. It was bizarre to say the least that I should be subject to more of this nonsense or was this my penance.<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> Perhaps I should relive it over and over again until it changes or until I figure it out. In any event I had no choice but to watch the horror once again. How could this happen? Was it all in vane? What would happen to these people? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">The city I fought so hard to protect was gone, the city we bled and died for was gone and in its place was the apocalypse. In despare, I looked away and took my meds.</span></div>
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The last helicopter to leave the U.S. Embassy roof tries to evacuate as many as possible. Only a handful would make the journey on the infamous "Flight To Freedom".<br>
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Dozen fleeing for their lives hang on to the helicopter rudders but to no avail and fall to their death.<br>
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The U.S. embassy gates are torn down by historical mobs as the Communists storm the city. Within hours Saigon would fall.<br>
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April 30, 2000 I sat on a folding chair in the second row. The first row was reserved for New York City's elite and so I knew my place. In front of me was Mayor Giuliani, Donald Trump, General Steele, and a host of equally important people well known in areas of government, finance, and the military. Celebrating the 25 Year Anniversary of the Fall Of Saigon and rededicating the New York City Vietnam Veterans Memorial we all gathered on Water Street in what was known as Vietnam Veterans Plaza. </div>
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One by one they spoke of bravery by our veterans and the meaning of sacrifice as they introduced Medal Of Honor recipients. They all spoke of similar issues while telling their story of men that rose to heroic levels and of a brotherhood that they were privy to. On and on the day went until the last speaker approached the podium. Sitting on the edge of my seat I leaned forward obnoxiously intrusive of the special guests in front of me. The pompousness of the previous speakers soon dissipated as all went quiet. This is what I came for.</div>
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She was frail and in her mid thirties with two small children by her side. Her voice was almost a whisper and hard to hear but her words were strong and full of life with a spirit unmatched in my lifetime. She was direct and to the point about a life of agony, pain, and triumph. </div>
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She was one of two children that grew up in Saigon during the war with other American children and had the benefit of the best that Vietnam had to offer. Towards the end of the war her father tried without success to get the family out. As total chaos ruled the streets of Saigon in mid April tens of thousands of Vietnamese tried to get transportation by any means possible. The final days were winding down and mass hysteria ruled the psyche of every South Vietnamese family.</div>
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On April 30, 1975 her father took her and her younger brother to the gates of the U.S. Embassy and joined tens of thousands of people crying for help. The gates were locked and those that could get close began to climb. For a split second the mob listed to one side and an opening appeared. Without hesitation her father selflessly pusher them through the medal picked bars of the gate. There was no time for goodbyes only the struggle for life in a sea of trauma and pain. She held her brothers hand as tightly as she could and slipped through the desperate mob until it was impossible to pass. She pushed and slithered trying to find passage and lost her grip. Her brother was missing in the crowd and she was now being forced to move with the ebb and flow of the masses. Without resistance the strength of so many controlled her movement as she found her way to the top of the embassy roof. She was on the last helicopter to leave Saigon, only eleven years old and alone she was on "The Flight To Freedom". </div>
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I stood in awe of both her and the human spirit as I shrunk in comparison to the life of this woman half my age. She towered over me in a deity sort of way when I approached her and we talked. I was shaking when I shook her hand and felt her spirit as she thanked me for my service looking down at her two children. Through them her family lives on I thought and like all of us she moves forward carrying the past. </div>
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OPERATION BABYLIFT </div>
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History has the unmistakable quality of being reviewed time and again with different outcomes and different stories and different heroes. The Fall Of Saigon was no different as civilian mothers thousands of miles from home take to the air and invade Saigon. </div>
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It was called Operation Babylift by the Ford Administration on April 2, 1975 and lasted to the last days of the war. Civilians, nurses, volunteers, and Air Force personnel would fly into Saigon's Tan Son Nhut Air Base under enemy fire with cargo and civilian aircraft and evacuate as many orphans as possible during the Fall Of Saigon. One aircraft crashed or was shot down killing 138, mostly Vietnamese children, but the remainder went off without incident. Over 3,000 orphans were rescued and 2,600 were adopted by families all over the world. Critics of the war accused the Ford Administration of political manipulation but to no avail. The heroes that stepped forward in those waning hours risked their lives and held the critics at bay by the overall success of the operation. </div>
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The numbers evacuated only reflect a fraction of the problem left by the war. Amerasian children, fathered by American servicemen to Vietnamese women, are said to number <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">in the tens of thousands. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Known as "the children of dust" they were shunned by Vietnamese society and lived a harsh life.</span></div>
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Boxes of babies are strapped down in cargo planes waiting evacuation.<br>
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A surreal site of a commercial jetliner full of babies in boxes.<br>
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From the dedication of The Cleveland Grey's Museum, Lincoln's first unit called to arms, to the Australian Embassy in Washington my work has afforded me the opportunity to speak at many different venues. On occasion I am paired up with another guest speaker performing workshops or historical exhibits in educational settings. It's not that I disagree or am disappointed with other guests but I feel that most times we're not on the same page and my message is lost, but not always.</div>
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We met at an emporium for administrators and teachers for all school districts in Nassau County Long Island NY and we talked for hours. This frail lady was fifteen years my senior but her energy level was equal to mine. Just an ordinary American housewife and mother she left her family and flew 9,000 miles into the face of enemy fire. Her volunteer organization teamed up with private airlines and crews to evacuate orphans during The Fall Of Saigon. Ordinary mothers with a love for the gift of life manned commercial aircraft to fulfill a destiny. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">One particular child with a special gleam in his eye went home with her as her own. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I am in awe of most simple things in life but occasionally I am privileged to touch the human spirit itself and when I do I am jolted with a bolt of life giving energy. It usually carries me just long enough to reach another and if not I search for it in vane. This energy sustains my life. That day was one of those life giving days and I thanked her with tears in my eyes. She knew exactly what I meant. I feed off of this energy to exist and embracing it gives me hope and I am appreciative. </span></div>
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OPERATION FREQUENT WIND</div>
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60,000 strong in the eleventh hour of The Fall of Saigon made up of prominent politicians, military leaders, and anyone with U.S. or Saigon connections took to the South China Sea to escape the death throes of the Communists. It was calld Operation Frequent Wind and desparate Vietnamese fled on fishing boats, makeshift vessels, and unseaworthy craft to reach ships of the U.S. Seventh Fleet. Other than U.S. ships refugees made their way to first-asylum countries such as Malayaia, Indonesia, Singapore, the Phillipes, and Hong Kong. In the next two years almost 30,000 more Vietnamese would venture into the unknown and seek asylum despite official reports that an estimated one third of all fleeing Vietnamese would die at sea. </div>
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Hords of frantic Vietnamese hug the coastline in anticipation of freedom.<br>
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Anything that floats was a possible ticket to freedom.<br>
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Ships of the U.S. Seventh Fleet await the boat people.<br>
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Mr. Pham Van Hai or "Skinny Hai" as he was known by his unit couldn't weight more than 90 pounds soaking wet had a great big smile and an even bigger outgoing personality. After the Fall Of Saigon Skinny Hai willfully turned himself in to the new government. In return for his candor and honesty he was separated from his family, sent north, and was put in a forced labor camp for three years.</div>
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Selfie in second growth jungle sprayed and killed by Agent Orange. After 50 years the area still hasn't recovered to its former self in the town of Cu Chi.</div>
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A burned out tank lies in the middle of the Cu Chi forest.<br>
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Hai was an officer in the ARVN Military (Army of Republic of Vietnam) with the U. S. 11th Armored Calvary and worked with my unit, among others, in the Xuan Loc and Black Horse areas north of Saigon. He also worked close with my unit in The Pineapple, an area in the Mekong Delta, for five years. He educated himself and spoke fluent English as an interpreter for the American Army and dealt with captured Vietcong.<br>
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During The Fall of Saigon many ARVN soldiers simply took off their uniforms and tried to blend in with the local population. Since The Vietnam War was a civil war it pitted brother against brother so rather than surrender and face the wrath of the Communists soldiers mant simply tried to blend in. Hai, being a high ranking officer, turned himself in to the new government and was imprisoned.</div>
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At eighteen years old and knowing I would never want to be captured I slept with a live hand grenade clutched in my hand. My mentality at the time was that I would use it on myself rather than be captured by the Vietcong. Hai fought and conspired with the American Army against the Communist Vietcong and in the end he turned himself in rather than try to hide. </div>
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I tried to wrap my mind around this decision and the anguish he must have gone through to make it. We as Americans could go home after the war but win or loose the Vietnamese had to stay and work things out. That said, I can't imagine making that decision knowing that there was a strong possibility he would be killed. </div>
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There are heroes on both sides of the fence and sometimes it's the unknown decions we are unaware of that make them so. Hai is a hero in my book, not for fighting in the war, but for facing his demons.</div>
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"Say hello to my little friend", Mr. Pham Van Hai.<br>
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Old soldiers get together in Cu Chi.<br>
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-21585939646464268292014-10-22T08:32:00.000-07:002014-10-22T08:32:22.679-07:00TET<div>
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The Tet Offensive was one of the most paradoxical of history's decisive battles.<br />
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STATISTICS:</div>
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Vietcong, North Vietnamese</div>
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58,000 dead</div>
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3,895 dead</div>
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4,954 dead</div>
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214 dead</div>
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14,300 dead </div>
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Total</div>
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81,363 dead in 2 months time</div>
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After the death of North Vietnam's senior General Nguyen Chi Thanh in 1967 Hanoi needed a plan to bring the war to a quick and decisive end. The war had not been going well up until that point and Thanh wanted to scale back the fighting in South Vietnam with American firepower being so overwhelming. With his death and no opposition Norrh Vietnam's Defense Minister General Vo Nguyen Giap opted to end the war with one swift and powerful stroke. </div>
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Adopted from an old Chinese Communist Doctrine Giap's plan called for a "General Offensive" followed by a "General Uprising" followed by a General wearing down of the enemy. But the United States handed the Communist an indecisive defeat. On one hand they battered the enemy militarily but on the other hand they gave them a moral victory. Giap was right on his third assumption. His primary enemy the United States did not have the willpower to sustain heavy loses thus giving The Tet Offensive the dubious distinction of being a victory for both sides.</div>
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The Tet Offensive would begin on the Lunar New Year and was the most Important holiday on the Vietnamese calander. The exact timing of the offensive was held until the last possible moment to maintain the element of surprise. Giap's plan was a masterpiece of military deception which started the prior year. Staging fierce bloody attacks on the northern section of South Vietnam and along the DMZ (demilitarized zone) which were pointless and had no military advantage it drew attention away from the Saigon area. A cease fire was declared during Christmas the month before the attacks were to commence and Giap used this down time to move his forces into attacking positions. While the U.S. had its guard down the Communists were moving men, munitions, and supplies into and around the Saigon area. </div>
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The attack on the Marine base at Khe Sanh was a classic deception perpetrated by Giap that focused U.S. attention on the bloody fighting. The battle became such an obsession for President Johnson that he had a scale model of the base built for the situation room. It was General Weyand commanding the U.S. II Field Forces in Long Binh that realized the ploy. He <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">convinced General Westmoreland to pull his forces back into the Saigon area. Instead of the original 14 battalions protecting Saigon a total of 27 were ready for the onslaught drastically changing the outcome of the offensive. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">On January 31st the attack was underway in Saigon and by that afternoon the city of Hue was besieged and the Tet Offensive was in full swing. Before the day was over 5 of the 6 major South Vietnam cities, 36 of 44 provincial capitals, and 64 district capitals were under attack. The fighting was over in the nonessential areas within a few days but Saigon, Khe Sanh, Hue, and the Cho Lon district the fighting raged on. Hue was retaken on February 25th, Cho Lon on March 7th, and Khe Sanh on March 20th. The</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> Tet Offensive was over and militarily it was a tactical disaster for the communists. In the face of overwhelming firepower the Vietcong had suffered the biggest losses but Giap gained a moral victory. With U.S. and world sentiment growing unfavorably towards the war the loss of almost 4,000 Americans in just over a months time became a disaster for the Johnson administration. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">During the 1968 Tet Offensive Long Binh was attacked by a Vietcong regiment sustaining heavy looses. Long Binh, established in 1967, was just 20 mile north of Saigon and was a center of command operations. The communist just 20 miles outside the city targeted Long Binh because of its military importance which housed command units, logistics, medical, and administration centers for all troops operating in the southern provinces. Also containing the U.S. military prison known as Long Binh Jail (LBJ) the center boasted a rail yard and housing for 50,000 troops arriving and leaving Vietnam. The 199th under heavy attack by a regiment sized force fought at the perimeters of Long Binh and repelled the onslaught.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">The Tet Offensive proved to be the ultimate test for the 199th. On Janurary 31, the Vietcang had taken Phu Tho Racetrack in Cholon within the city limits of Saigon. The Vietcong were well dug in and also controlled an area 6 blocks around the track. Phu Tho Racetrack is an arena sized facility famous for horse racing in Indochina. Fighting was from house to house throughout Cholon as the Communists held the upper hand and repelled the attack. The 199th sustained heavey losses and regrouped the following day with a new strategy. Fanning out around the racetrack the 199th came in from all sides. After six nonstop days of fighting the Vietcong, either killed or escaped, were ousted and the racetrack was secure on Feruary 5. Although Cholon was secure the fighting continued for the rest of the month. In one of the final aftershocks of the Cholon slaughter Nguyen Loan, a Vietnamese police general, was caught on film executing a suspected Vietcong prisoner. This image became one of the most famous images of the Vietnam War and fueled outrage throughout the world. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Nguyen Loan shoots Vietcong Suspect sending</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Phu Tho Racetrack, fighting was from alcove to alcove.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Operation Toan Thang was an area of operation patrolled by a combined task force. The 1st, 9th,25th, and 199th infantry units were deployed to counter what was to be known as "The Mini Tet". The Vietcong had infiltrated the city limits and held key locations. The most serious threat came as two VC battalions captured the Y-Bridge linking downtown Saigon with the Nha Be District. It took 6 days of hard fighting for the Americans to secure this vital artery leaving it the most costly action of "The Mini Tet".</span></div>
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THE LONGEST NIGHT</div>
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The Cho Lon district had been secured and Delta was sent south to stop the Communist reinforcements from infiltrating the Saigon area. The regiment sized attacks were ongoing leaving us to believe that the reinforcements were no less formidable. Doubling up on our normal sized unit we took choppers <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">to a suspected infiltration point and divided the area in two for greater coverage. Delta was back down to our normal eight men and set up for a night ambush. It was an open area of rice paddy mud, dirt dykes, and scrub tree lines of small growth. Spreading out and resting until dark we took turns on guard duty while keeping a low profile. From our past experience we knew the Vietcong were known for their night movement and setting up a night ambush always gave us the element of surprise yet left us vulnerable and alone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Alone with your own thoughts on guard duty at night in the middle of nowwhere was alone as alone can get. Sometimes I imagined I saw things and suddenly they were gone as I rubbed the tiredness from my eyes. I had turned nineteen but in a place like this it was the same as being eighteen only a day later. I hadn't lived long enough to have many thoughts other than high school and all that it encompasses. No kids, no marriage, no jobs so what do I think about to keep awake? What </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">if I die before I've even lived? It was sad to think that I haven't lived long enough to have many meaningful thoughts and so I stopped thinking and concentrated on the task at hand. Perhaps that's why war is a young mans game, nothing to loose. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I watched one lonely figure come out of the woodline in a slow methodical scrutiny of the area. I'll wait I thought and see what he is up to and so I followed his every move. A second, a third, and a fourth just kept inching there way out of the woodline. I quietly woke the next man and he in turn followed suit. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Appearing to be in no hurry they mingled about in a slow cadence taking the time to analize each step. Fighting in their own backyard they knew every nook and cranny and examined it carefully suggesting that the area was mined. Again they moved and again more appeared repeating the same movement. I was watching a slow motion rerun of the same scene only now they were increasing in numbers with every passing moment. Now at the fifty yard line they stopped again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">My best guess at this point was that it was at least a platoon sized unit and they were loaded with gear. Mortars, munitions, RPG's (rocket propelled grenades), and rifles was only what we could see. The others were carrying boxes which could contain anything. This was no ordinary Vietcong unit and by the looks of things they meant business and could be meeting another unit for resupplying the offensive. They still were not out of the woodline yet and it was hard to tell just how many there were. We were outnumbered ten to one at least and still counting as they moved even closer. Now there close proximity eliminated any type of air strike. We held out breath's as the hours slowly ticked away.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">As if waiting for an assignment they lingered and even lit up cigarettes and squatted in circles of eight to ten man groups. We couldn't open fire and we couldn't just let them walk into our position and so we held our breaths. Opening fire on one end of the unit or another would bring the remaining men on our flank and moving was out of the question. Either option was a death wish and so we waited throughout the night. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Moving straight into our laps they carried an arsenal to sustain a Mini Tet for an extended period of time. I could smell them in the still heavy night air and I knew we were in for a fight. This fight was all on us and it was going to be a good one. They inched closer across no mans land to encounter two water buffalo's at an intersection of dykes. The corner of two rice paddies and the misplacement of two water buffalo's would determine our fate. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">These beasts of burden help to sustain life in the rice paddies but are known for their stubbornness and strength. Not to deal with these creatures the Vietcong viered off course and change direction at the last possible moment and spared us the fight of our live's. We waited until they were out of range and called in an air strike ending the longest night of my young life. Now I had something to think about.</span></div>
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There was a saying, "we own the day but the night belongs to Charlie." Shuttled around during the Tet Offensive I took this picture on my way to an operation. Our eight man unit was transported by day to set up ambushes by night. </div>
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If you were on the first chopper it was your job to secure the LZ (landing zone) for the next arrival. This Huey helicopter carried six to eight men and was the backbone of our unit.<br />
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These dykes or borders to the rice paddy's were ideal to hide behind especially when we were getting shot at. Here my unit arrives during daylight so we can decide the best place to set up while protecting ourselves for a night ambush. Vietcong movement was usually at night.<br />
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I entered Saigon in a terrential downpour so apparently on the surface nothing had changed since the last time I was here. After checking into my room I headed southwest to the Cholon District of Ho Chi Minh City, better known as Chinatown. This highly contested area was my units backyard during Tet and I was interested to see how it fared. After 30 minutes by taxi during rush hour I arrived at what I was told was Cholon and the heart of an ancient culture of Cbinese immigrants.</div>
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There are officially 8 million people in Ho Chi Minh City and 10 million counting unofficial residents and it appeared as if all of them were in the Cholon District at this moment. There were scooters and people everywhere like locust swarming on a crop field. My taxi was stuck in traffic and hadn't moved for twenty minutes so I got out and walked stopping at a sidewalk eatery for a break.</div>
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The best Pho, fish soup, is in Chinatown.<br />
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I haven't had a Tiger beer in 45 years.<br />
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Phu Tho Racetrack.<br />
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I wasn't permitted to enter so I went around back and took a picture of one of the exits.<br />
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At first I didn't recognize the Phu Tho Racetrack and I walked entirely around it looking for horses when I came across a sign that read PHU THO SPORTS COMPLEX. The old stadium was inside this huge shell and the inner city youth of Ho Chi Minh City used the area as a sports complex. There was volleyball, boxing, weight lifting, tennis, and basketball. The infield was used as a track as the young ran the older residents walked and worked through their daily cardio routine just like me.<br />
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I stopped a few older gentlemen and asked in my best movie acting charade language if they remember the stadium during the war. Some answered me but most had no idea what I was saying and continued with their cardio. My favorite was the girls basketball team. They allowed me to throw the ball around with them as they made fun of me. All they could say was American and giggle.<br />
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Selfie with the girls basketball team of Cholon.<br />
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I'm filled with emotion as I write this post and holding back the tears. Knowing that this hollowed ground of senseless egos fighting over meaningless ground is now used for a greater good. How ironic is it that the grandchildren of egomaniacs are playing on our turf or what we perceived to be our turf fifty years ago. Their innocence remains in tact for as long as possible and far be it from me to change that for I know what it is like to lose one's innocence. I wouldn't dare tell them the history of this wonderland of joy and break their hearts. I just played and enjoyed a moment of innocence I long for. </div>
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-6065453673986143482014-10-21T10:13:00.000-07:002015-03-30T20:00:56.679-07:00A TALE OF TWO CITIES<div>
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The French colonies that made up what we know today as Vietnam were actually three separate entities with Cochin China being the southernmost colony. Originally known as Cauchichina, a name given by Portugese explorers and traders, their main Port Of Call was Saigon. The French established their first trading post in 1680 but the attacks on the French Catholic Missionarys led to the intervention of the military. Cochin China was the first to fall under French control because it contained the Mekong Delta or "rice bowl" as Vietnam was divided into three sections. The French also believed <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">that Saigon would become an important commercial center once it was opened to Europeans.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Napoleon III, emperor of France, ordered the French Foreign Office to interview in Chinese affairs and establish a port in Hong Kong. Within a few months the French were driven south to the small fishing village of Saigon which they acquired in 1859. In 1861 Vietnam conceded three of the eastern provinces of Cochin China. More importantly it acquired Saigon allowing for the free practice of Catholic worship and accepted France as their protectorate. France would remain in the region until WWII.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">"Never was so much owed by so many to so few"..........</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">A tale of two cities played out on the streets of Saigon every day in an endless weights and measures pendulum of human drama. Boasting a Central Park with images of mothers pushing baby carriages and young students studying at the Univerisity of Saigon it was a confluence of French architecture and sidewalk cafés. The Cho Lon District of Saigon became Vietnam's greatest commercial city accommodating the largest minority population. In the early sixties Chinese numbered about one million people making up eight percent of the total population and dominating it's commerce and the Cho Lon district. But all was not visible on the surface, as the war intensified the rich became richer and the poor became poorer and the underside of life began to dominate the streets of this once fashionable city. Recruiting men and missing in action men devastated families and left Vietnamese's young to fend for themselves by any means possible. Young women turned to prostitution with the influx of foreign soldiers and small children were sent into the streets to beg. The sale and use of illegal drugs and the "Black Market" dominated the back streets of Saigon. It was said that whatever item or fetish you wanted could be found if the price was right. By wars end the country of Vietnam, North and South, suffered half a million unaccounted for civilians and an untold number of dead from simple starvation, disease, and drugs not to mention military action</span><span style="font-family: Times;">. Saigon, once a vanguard city boasting of French fashion and architecture, became a decadent city in ruins.</span></div>
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Prostitutes and soldiers were a common site and an endless negotiation. Babies born of American fathers and Vietnamese mothers added to the despare of the country and by wars end a population of Amerasian children were brought to world attention by the play "Miss Saigon".<br>
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A common site on the streets of Saigon were children begging for food and money.<br>
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We met in basic training and his big smile was instantly contagious as we both struggled with the day in and day out drama of humiliation and abuse. As a Brooklyn native he had one of the most genuine passive personalities I'd ever met and we became instant friends.<br>
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Willy Tinsley was one of those men that should have never been a fighting man, he was to nice. When the Army desides who should fight and who should sit behind a desk they must have left out the personality questionnaire and only looked at physical abilities. His demeanor was that of a religious man with only kindness in his heart but a drafted man goes where he is told and does what he is asked. I saw Willy more as a contientious objector or a medic but not a fighting man, I was a fighting man or at least a man with a fighting chance. I knew Willy wouldn't make it. </div>
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After basic and infantry training we travelled to Oakland California together and eventually Vietnam. Out of the thousands of soldiers drawing orders for Vietnam we left on the same day and sat side by side on the twenty four hour flight. After arriving in Vietnam we were separated and Willy joined Delta's sister unit so we crossed paths now and again. When word came that he was hit I felt the pain. Willy was not in country very long when his unit set off a land mine while on patrol and he got hit hand possibly lossing his legs. He was in the 24th Evac (evacuation) Hospital in Saigon undergoing life saving surgery.<br>
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Willy Tinsley flanked by Peter and I our first day in Vietnam.<br>
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I was working the Mekong Delta just off Highway 1 in a place called The Fish Net. The action was slow when I heard about Willy and so I decided to try and see him. AWOL (absent without leave), I left my unit and set out on my own. Being in war was hard enough but going it alone was suicide. Being in close proximity to highway 1 leading to Saigon made my decision easier so I set out alone. I started walking in full gear when a Duce and a Half (2 and a half ton) dump truck posing as a garbage truck picked me up. I explained my intentions and he agreed to give me a ride to Saigon but only after he made a garbage run to the dump. </div>
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A garbage dump is an unpleasant experience in real life but in wartime it's a biblical scene of famine and despare. I watched in utter horror as homeless women and children rummaged through our waist of uneaten food, rotten meat, and slime covered fruits and vegetables. I saw children wipe the maggots off bread and eat American soldiers waist. This was the face of war, this was the face of war the world doesn't see and countries ignore just to make a point for their own agenda. With all my training and skills there were no classes for accepting this scenario of life or to prepare a soldier for the site of hell. I was tough and I could fight with the best of them but I could not take the site of starving children pillaging through my garbage. I cried, I cried not for them but for all of us that allow such horror to exist as we go about our daily lives. This was worse than killing a man I thought and yet I had no control to change either situation and no control to erase what I'd seen. That sight will be a part of me and forever imprinted in my mind. Whenever I prepare <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">a </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">dish or sit down to a banquet I will remember the site of starvation and I won't ever waist a morsel of food again. </span></div>
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The streets of Saigon in 1969 viewed from a garbage truck. I found it odd that people during war continue some semblance of order and routine and try to go about their dailey lives. I suppose they have no choice. There were more bikes then cars in Saigon.</div>
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How could they exist and how could a city function in the middle of this chaos we call a war. Saigon had a vibe, an energy all it's own and I was feeling its's pulse as I walked the streets invisible to the passerby. Soldiers in Saigon were as commonplace as Vietnamese citizens with comings and goings and places to go and people to see. It appeared like any other city in the world except this city was occupied. It was occupied by Americans and we acted as if we owned the place and in some ways we did. No one questioned who I was or what I was doing in full gear with a loaded weapon and it was eerie. </div>
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Vietnam to me was a small village with grass huts on the edge of a river in the Mekong Delta or a triple canopy jungle with no visible means of sunlight penetrating the undergrowth. The places familiar to me now couldn't be further from from my present location. Not knowing the city my means of getting around would be on foot but that was fine with me, I was a foot soldier. I asked directions and started to walk.</div>
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The 24th Evac was a glorified trauma unit on a Gigantic scale. As soon as one chopper took off another one landed with green uniforms running full speed unloading one stretcher after another. There was no front desk to check in with just armed soldiers on guard protecting the perimeter looking just like me. I asked and they answered giving me an idea where to look. There were no visiting hours to adhere to because there were no visitors and so I wondered from one ward to another. Sobbing, cursing, and crying my head from young men in pain. Waiting for relief and another shot of morphine until they could be shipped out their anguish filled the makeshift wards. </div>
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He was uncontious when I found him lying perfectly still bandaged from the waist down. The white sheets were made into a little pop up tent over his lower half hiding any indication of the extent of the damage. I spoke and he listened or so I convinced myself and so we had a one way conversation about going home. You are lucky I said, a million dollar wound was worth the effort and you should be grateful. The soldier that should have never fired a gun was relieved of duty and had paid his dues. Goodbye Willy I love you. </div>
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Given a second chance, the only word I can describe the precious days in Vietnam is remarkable. I set out early to explore the Old City and get a feel for the history and culture of Vietnam and the people. The Old City is just that, a time and place before 19th and 20th century man invaded and overshadowed the raw beauty of an innocent time. </div>
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My first stop was a demolition site of an old temple or what appeared to be an old temple being restored to its previous glory. The rubble was everywhere as the old was carted out and replaced by the new waiting it's turn for display. The workers were on break so I entered the construction site and poked around. In the pile of rubble a gleam caught my eye and I reached down and picked up a small urn filled with dirt and brushed it off. Imitation or real, it didn't matter as I continued my exploration with my new found treasure. </div>
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Stop number two was at the entrance to the Old City itself and the local police asked everyone for the pass which I purchased a day before. Qualifying for entry I continued my journey carrying my new found treasure in visible site still covered in dirt when another policeman grabbed my arm. Pointing to the urn he began talking in Vietnamese and escorting me to another area. I just knew I was in trouble for taking something out of the Old City that didn't belong to me. The area he took me to was the worshipping alter for Buddism at the entrance. He pointed to the incense burning in an urn then pointed to mine and with a sigh of relief I realized he was trying to describe my find. </div>
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Stop number three was a 250 year old riverfront home in the heart of the Old City. Guides at the entrance escorted visitors in with both a knowledge of history and culture and the English language. Originally six people lived in this two story structure boasting a cultural treasure of furniture and art with an upper class style of a period gone by. What appears to be dark teakwood the pieces throughout the house matched in color and style. <br>
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The beams of the lower floor were tied in to the plank wood floors with ties of dowels also made of the same wood. It was a split level sort of construction with offset levels.<br>
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Entertainment area similar to our liveingroom.<br>
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Looking up from lower level the main living area had a cathedral ceiling.<br>
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Looking into the front entranceway.<br>
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Stop number four was a walk along the waterfront as I pass both old and new boats for hire.<br>
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"Hey you", a voice yelled at me as I walked past an old man, "have a cup of tea with me" he said.<br>
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Now I know I stand out but what could this old man want, I wasn't hiring his boat. His name was Captain Dan and he was a tour guide boat operator so I sat down and we began to talk.<br>
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Captain Dan told me his Vietnamese name but I couldnt pronounce it so I just called him Dan. We sat and talked for hours. Dan was an ARVN (Army of Republic of Vietnam or South Vietnam Army) as an interpreter during the war. He was in Saigon the same time I was and worked for MACV (Military Advisory Command Vietnam) in General Westmoreland's office. He worked as the middle man between American and South Vietnamese forces and was an officer in the South Vietnamese Army. He was the only one in his family to work for the Allied Forces, the rest of his family were Communists. </div>
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After the Fall of Saigon Dan went north and got married and runs a boat tour company with his wife and daughter. We sat riverside exchanging war stories as old soldiers do. When I asked about the outcome of his life he simply said, "same same but different."</div>
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-60427391107467971182014-10-20T03:43:00.001-07:002014-10-20T03:43:35.402-07:00CAM RAHN BAY<div>
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Located in Khanh Hoa Province just south of Nha Trang, Cam Rahn Bay was a naturally protected harbor and an important way station for navigators since the days of Marco Polo. It's inner and outer harbor make it as unique a harbor as any in the world. Many believe it to be as beautiful as it is strategic both in peacetime and during war. It's modern military history goes back to 1905 when Russian fleets stopped there for resupply on their way around the world only to be defeated by the Japanese. Later in WWII, during the ocupation of Indo-China, the Japanese controlled the harbor using it to supply their invasion of the Malay Pennisula. During the Vietnam War the United States turned the port into a major supply depit. Less than two hundred miles from Saigon Cam Rahn Bay was a strategic Port of Call for the Allied Forces.<br />
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During the mid-sixties the United States war machine was gaining strength in a massive buildup along the South China Sea. The Port of Saigon was the only modern facility in South Vietnam and inandated with cargo as the need for another deep water port grew increasingly important. As military action increased in the central war zones support was needed to protect these ground forces. In May 1965 the First Logistical Command established a defense in Cam Rahn for the Allied Troops. By the following month the Army Corp of Engineers began building roads, warehouses, fuel tanks, and larger cargo handling facilities. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">A new pier capable of handling six large cargo vessals simultaneously was constructed along with an airfield housing the U.S. Air Force 11th Tactical Fighter Wing and 483rd Tactical Air Wing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Security of this massive complex was given to The Republic of South Korea's 9th Infantry Division. It was considered so safe that President Johnson visited twice during his administration and yet during the 1969 Tet Offensive the Viet Cong breached the complex. Two Americans were killed and 98 wounded as the invasion was repelled. Cam Rahn Bay remained secure until the end of the war and it fell to the Communists in 1975. After a piece agreement was signed in 1978 the port and complex the Americans had built became a naval base for the Soviet Union. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Cam Rahn Bay's complex also boasted a logistical hospital capable of treating and rehabilitating soldiers with minor wounds and returning to active duty. Soldiers recuperated on white sand beaches along with hundreds of military personnel. Vintage Southern California style photos appeared with surfers and beach parties reminiscent of back home. Requests for this duty station came from every branch of service and for every available job. Getting a duty station in Cam Rahn Bay was good and as far from the horror of war as you could get while still being in a war zone.</span></div>
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A natural barrier protects inner and outer harbors as Cam Rahn Bay's piers handle six cargo ships simultaneously as smaller vessals traversed the inner waterways.<br />
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President Johnson greets soldiers during one of his two trips to Cam Rahn Bay accompanied by General Westmoreland.<br />
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In uniform or out the beaches of the South China Sea were beautiful. Sun bathing and </div>
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surfing was a favorite pastime.<br />
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It appears as though these surfers are ordering lunch and cocktails. </div>
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The war was not hard on everyone.<br />
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Besides the white sand beaches Cam Rahn Bay manned night club style bars for its soldiers.</div>
Joe Oddo, a Bay Shore High School classmate, recuperates in one of the bars. Joe boy as he was known was wounded twice and sent to Cam Rahn Bay for rehabilitation. Fighting in Pleiku on the Vietnam Cambodian border he received both Silver and Bronze Star's for heroism.<br />
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Joe Boy wrote this letter to his girlfriend which accompanied the photograph.</div>
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Kathy, 15 Feb 69</div>
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Cam Rahn Bay</div>
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"Hello honey how are you. Here I am with Steve at the club they have for the patients here. We borrow the clothes from this guy. Steve is still sick he is in the bad stage yet of Malaria but we had to go out and celebrate us being together here. I'm fine and miss you."<br />
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Joe Boy and Steve borrowed civilian clothes to feel more like themselves. It was the little things that kept us going through hard times and that thin thread of reality reminded us of home. The thought of home sometimes felt just as surreal as the the world we found ourselves in but it was all we knew. Home was the goal we all strived for and just a simple tangible object like civilian clothes could be the perfect reminder that kept us sane, it was a god-sent.<br />
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The foot soldier was the backbone of the military. All facets of the military are important but the grunt, as we were refered to, was a different species. Left to our own devices we survived by improvising. A warm beer and a muddy river lined with sandbag bunkers was a treasured event even when the beer was dropped from a helicopter. As long as the Vietcong were not shooting at us we were fine and the beer, well the beer was a bonus. This was our Cam Rahn Bay.<br />
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I took this picture of Peter and Dave relaxing while someone else keeps an eye on things.<br />
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Late spring was upon us and the Tet Offensive was winding down to the occasional hit and run skirmish and for some unknown reason the beer kept coming this fine spring day. We had been living in the mangrove swamps of the Mekong Delta for some time now working our daily missions. The only time we came out of the bush was to jump on a helicopter for a ride to another firefight but today was different. For some unknown reason today the beers kept coming along with word of a major move and a three day rest. We never get a three day rest so something big was in the works. Beer and rest sounded awesome we thought and what could be worse then our lives now so bring it on.</div>
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Cam Rahn Bay may have had its white sand beaches, surfing, and night clubs but we had the BMB. </div>
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BMB was short for Brigade Main Base. The name was later changed to Camp Frenzell-Jones in honor of the first two casualties in our unit. BMB was a 1,200 acre complex at the northern end of Long Binh and sits on Highway 1-A which leads into Saigon. The Brigade complex includes a PX (post exchange), Post Office, nightclub, air conditioned library and housing for all the officers including the General. As part of Long Binh Complex it was the center for all command in South Vietnam. </div>
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As the beer flowed our minds relaxed but our energy peaked. We were trained in the roughest environment possible and so our fun and games were just as rough. Breaking in a new machete became one of our favorite pastimes. Each of us would swing with all our strength and try to drive it through a coconut, the deepest penetration was the victor. I took my turn as the beer continued to flow and the day took on a life of its own.</div>
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Occasionally we would get a package from home and mine were always filled with pepperoni and salami's but my most treasured gift were cigars. I would always get a variety of the most aromatic cigars money could buy. The smell alone would give our position away so I couldn't smoke them on missions. When the chopper dropped beer and packages off all on the same day it was party time. Imagination and self entertainment was a necessity for the foot soldier. I broke into the supply shack and stole a case of duct tape and wrapped coconuts for Bacci Balls. Here I am drinking a beer, smoking a cigar, and playing Bocci Ball with coconuts, what more could a man ask for. The game of Bacci usually ends in an argument. There is always a difference of opinion which Bacci Ball is closer to what other ball but not in Vietnam. Here there was no need to argue amongst ourselves because everyone carried a gun and controversy was not an option.</div>
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We continued to enjoy our down time waiting for the choppers to pick us up for our three day rest.<br />
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Stench would have been a good word to describe us as we entered the compound looking more like war dogs than anyone could imagine. We were living in rice paddy mud and mangrove swamps and hadn't taken a shower or had a hot meal in a month. After relieving us of our clothes and gear we were then asked to surrender our weapons. This was our first problem. We gave up our larger heavier machine guns for convience but refused to hand over our M-16's. Perhaps it was the cleanly pressed and spit shined new-guy private that was asking us that caused our hesitation but we refused. He was to scared to argue so command sent a senior officer to deal with us.<br />
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We weren't allowed to go anywhere or do anything until we took a shower in the enlisted men's barracks. We couldn't believe this complex was located in a war zone or even part of the war. It had a country club atmosphere. If it weren't for the bombs going off in the distance this compound could have been Hometown USA. It never crossed my mind and it was unnerving to think that the war was run from this country club called BMB.</div>
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There were two options for dinner, restaurant if you had money or cafeteria if you didn't so cafeteria it was which created incident number two. Eating eggs out of a can for so long was all I knew so I was taken back when I saw what appeared to be real food. We sat alone and ate everything in site creating somewhat of a scene. No one would dare come near us which was probably was for the best. Our reputation as the bad boys of Delta preceded our visit and it was obvious no one wanted anything to do with us.</div>
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Incident number three arose when we were rejected from the nightclub. Officers were the only ones allowed in the club and the enlisted men, which was us, had to drink in the bar without entertainment. After a few hours of making a scene our unit left and walked back to our tents but Peter and I broke away from the unit with our own plans. We practiced our military training and performed our own search and destroy mission. Locating the <span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">supply depot we broke in and stole tear gas canisters and headed for the Officers Barracks. Spotting the guards and timing their security tour around the compound we jammed the front and back doors shut but first we </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">threw several canisters of tear gas canisters in. Watching from a safe distance the officers scream in anguish trying to escape through the jammed doors. They finally broke them down as several jumped out the screened windows. We walked back to our unit as the base went on alert. It was the end of day one.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Incident number four started day two in this makeshift Americana surrounded by the surreal world of death and destruction. After breakfast we decided to explore this vast complex known as Long Binh and went for an extended walk. The scenery became more and more bizarre as we approached what appeared to be a house with a very large swimming pool. Inquiring as to the occupants we realized it was for the General. What we couldn't understand was how certain parts of our military lived as if they were back home and we, as it's backbone, couldn't shower for a month. It wasn't just the high ranking officers living the high life in Long Binh but enlisted men as well. Without hesitation we broke in and went for a swim. Usually the water we swam in was muddy and infested with leaches and snakes so this was a treat for us but the final straw for command. We had broken every rule, rudely insulted everyone, drank and ate to excess, put the base on high alert, and broke into the Generals house and it was only day two. BMB had enough of Delta and we never saw day three. We were ordered to report for deployment for our new mission to the Vietnam Cambodian border for special search and destroy missions into Cambodia. Helicopters would pick us up at 0600 hours (6:00 AM) in full gear carrying extra munitions and meals. I just knew in my heart this was going to be a rough mission.</span></div>
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The Generals pool was crystal clear and a welcome break from war, take that <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Cam Rahn Bay.</span></div>
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My stay in Hoi An was a throwback to an earlier place and time. This quaint seaside town brought back memories of the days when American soldiers roamed the beaches of The South China Sea to get a break from the reality of war. Today the shores are busy with tourists from all over the world. I walked the back streets and tried to get a feel for the people and imagine how the locals and the invading foreigners interacted during the war. From their smiling faces and aggressive hard sell tactics it's obvious life hasn't changed much for the people of Hoi An and this seaside community.<br />
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French style buildings line the Main Street.<br />
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Residents of Hoi An do things the old fashion way, they work at it.<br />
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If you don't go to the shop the shop comes to you.<br />
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Don't feel like walking.<br />
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Deliveries are made on scooters.<br />
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Pushcarts contain every imaginable delight.<br />
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Since the days of old their system of transport remains the same.<br />
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Once these boats transported weapons and munitions, today they carry tourists.<br />
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This lady sells cigarettes, rents bikes and scooters, and takes in laundry. If you leave your dirty cloths by the afternoon it's ready in the morning.<br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Selphie on China Beach. My first time touching The South China Sea.</span></div>
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Sunset on The South China Sea.<br />
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-21526295875105740372014-10-18T23:48:00.000-07:002014-10-19T02:52:37.093-07:00PROTEST'S<div>
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The war in Southeast Asia set off a worldwide firestorm of controversy at every level of society. Governments, religious leaders, anti-war factions, and soldiers themselves took to the streets to join the chorus of an angry world. Governments fought a two front war, one on the battlefield and one within the confines of their respective countries. The outcries took form in every imaginable scenario from mass riots and destruction of government symbols to music festivals and draft card burning. Anti this and anti that overflowed every aspect of life but the world stopped and took notice the day a relatively unknown Buddhist Monk performed self-immolation. His name was Thich Quang Duc and on June 11,1963 he soaked himself in gasoline and lit himself on fire at a busy Saigon intersection in protest.<br>
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Buddhist Monk uses self-immolation to protest religious persecution.<br>
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Buddhism was introduced to Vietnam from China in the second century. During the French control of Vietnam Buddhism faced restrictions as the French tried to spread Catholisism. In 1951 Vietnamese Buddhists formed the General Association of Buddhists to recognize and fight for their religious beliefs. By the mid-sixties only three million Vietnamese were outright Buddhist's while the majority of the population were secretly practicing their religion. It is estimated that fifteen million Vietnamese, 80% of the population, hid their religious beliefs in fear of reprisals. </div>
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President Diem of South Vietnam was raised a Catholic and almost all of his government appointee's were Catholic as well. Diem refused to abolish anti Buddhist laws left over from French occupation. On May 8, 1963 at a gathering of Buddhist's in Hue celebrating Buddha's birthday were dispersed and nine people were killed by police. A delegation went to Diem demanding a stop to religious persecution but were turned away blaming the Communists for the incident. On June 11th the first self-immolation occurred. Busdhist Monks continued to <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">lead protests in Hue citing the United States as an accomplish to the persecution. In May 1966 ten monks and nuns set themselves on fire in protest forcing Washington to take a stand. The movement soon died as the war escalated and attention was focused on other matters.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Religion, politics, social, and economical issues plagued Vietnam throughout the war as growing opposition was building. The anti-war movement was gaining strength and consisted of independent interest groups uniting in opposition to the war. The movement started in 1965, peaked in 1968, and remained powerful until the end of the war. It was fueled by events like the My Lai massacre, the shootings at Kent State University, and the loss of 5,000 Allied Forces in one month of fighting during the Tet Offensive. The anti-war movement exposed a deep schism in American society and no where was it more evident than with the young men in America between the ages of 18 and 26.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Young men burn their draft cards and refuse to enter the military.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">After the death of President Kennedy America was moving closer to war and President Johnson inherited the legacy of growing unrest. It was then that he began to build his army. Fueling the war machine at its peak America would produce 400,000 fighting men a month. In 1965 Johnson decided to rely on the draft to fill his needs rather than the National Guard for manpower. 26.8 million Baby Boomer males would reach draft age between 1964 and 1973 making it the largest manpower pool in history of the world. 8.7 million men and women served between those years, 2.7 in Vietnam. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Anti-war rally at the steps of the Lincoln Memorial draws tens of thousands to Washington.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNw72UyUTETNAowepriCNBbxmOFUaTLx-VkNYVHHus9-VoK7BXuUzDkEX56eWbYAXeMTrscjZYpdotq67KxEpETvatGvlrmE6SXKiIaDAq9ItF2h1hZeufZddQyU7nIeWcyrbiNPzJwNY/s640/blogger-image--1441747639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNw72UyUTETNAowepriCNBbxmOFUaTLx-VkNYVHHus9-VoK7BXuUzDkEX56eWbYAXeMTrscjZYpdotq67KxEpETvatGvlrmE6SXKiIaDAq9ItF2h1hZeufZddQyU7nIeWcyrbiNPzJwNY/s640/blogger-image--1441747639.jpg" style="cursor: move;"></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">The draft relied on a lottery system of days of the year being randomly drawn and men whose birthdays fell on those days were drafted first. As the days progressed and more were drawn the less likely a man was to be drafted. The men that were drafted reported to the draft board for determination of eligibility and given a physical. The physically unfit, the sick, and the ones with a government sanctioned deferments were sent home. Deferments ranged from students in college to agricultural farm workers and even cheese makers in Wisconsin were defered. The random selection of men and the deferment categories added to the growing unrest of the ant-war movement. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Jane Fonda (Hanoi Jane) with Secretary of State John Kerry speak to Vietnam Veterans.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiG9TzUBz5YmgW7VTiV02BchY4JTRnfAP_1X_g06kKNzFkLfDq9mBrslynNQB4-BtnCJU8aSQxCVP-wcaqmgeKRnLDyzCyBOM2RUSjATDrHlNI2m6c0aZjYUw6EbIRGRlg5WE1FBdGPvs/s640/blogger-image-1133878466.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiG9TzUBz5YmgW7VTiV02BchY4JTRnfAP_1X_g06kKNzFkLfDq9mBrslynNQB4-BtnCJU8aSQxCVP-wcaqmgeKRnLDyzCyBOM2RUSjATDrHlNI2m6c0aZjYUw6EbIRGRlg5WE1FBdGPvs/s640/blogger-image-1133878466.jpg" style="cursor: move;"></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">The reaction of drafted men threw </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">the government on it's heels and kept the justice department busy for almost two decades. By the end of the war the statistics were staggering.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">STATISTICS 1964-1972</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">7,400 draft dodgers convicted</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">5,700 cases pending</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">39,000 referred to Justice Department</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">495,689 cases of desertion</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">450,000 less-than-honorable discharge</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">40,000 exiles left the country</span></div>
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Vietnam Veterans Against the War march in protest.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6pjpyU4N2P_wQyWOVHU9NFfGRTIChJ1PnPlPJKqVLcC7Y4qcJ8sPw8jsFY3G6Ts9Siv_2kedSZUpLJ1KhRTsI7I3OGoHK41xazwiPLZmn6kXnrqRZRz66WAjQyGAcVUvRs2xfBmHVTDE/s640/blogger-image-127350205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6pjpyU4N2P_wQyWOVHU9NFfGRTIChJ1PnPlPJKqVLcC7Y4qcJ8sPw8jsFY3G6Ts9Siv_2kedSZUpLJ1KhRTsI7I3OGoHK41xazwiPLZmn6kXnrqRZRz66WAjQyGAcVUvRs2xfBmHVTDE/s640/blogger-image-127350205.jpg"></a></div>
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Anti-war demonstrators occupied every government facility in America from Capital Hill to the local Selective Service office and protests took place dailey. If you weren't with them you were against them and at times the situations got ugly as the youth of America insisted on being heard. Caught in the middle of this schism was the Vietnam Veteran. The returning soldier unaware and unprepared for the descent lying in wait turned inward and was pushed underground for decades. Not since the great Civil War had America been so divided. The government having its hands full with every aspect of governing was literally falling apart from within and incapable of support for these returning soldiers. </div>
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I walked with crutches and a slow mythodical gate out the exits closest to the street so I could meet my ride. Almost eight months had passed and I was leaving the hospital for the first time broken and I longed for the smell of fresh air. The medicinal smell of the overcrowded wards was in my clothes and hair and following me like a cloud. The aroma of New York City traffic exhaust was inviting so I closed my eyes and took in as much as my lungs could handle. It was the smell of freedom and the smell of something familiar. I left for Vietnam breathing this same smoggy stagnant air and now I had returned, beat up but alive.</div>
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Proud to be an American fighting man I wore my uniform and hobbled my slow and steady pace until I reached the gates. A crowd of protestors spotted me and pounced. Being trained in the art of surprise I know an ambush when I see one and this was an ambush that I thought I left behind in enemy territory. Perhaps it wasn't left behind and perhaps I'm still in enemy territory I thought.</div>
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Viciously attacking me with the most vile array of insults imaginable they got as close as they could and spit. Baby killer, murderer, and butcher were thrown at me repeatedly as I met my ride and drove off. At first I didn't understand the entire episode or the level of anger and rage shown. For that matter who were these people and why were they allowed to act this way. I was a formidable kid growing up and never backed down from a fight but respected others and their boundaries. I didn't understand what was happening to me and for years to come I wrestled with these very issues.</div>
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The Vietnam Veteran was the symbol for everything America hated at the time. War, government, and any symbol of the establishment were the focal points of the anti-war movement and they carried it with a passion. Senario's like this one played out across America leaving the returning soldier to go underground. There came a point when I was ashamed to be a veteran and only associated with other veterans, if at all. I did understand the movement but I didn't understand the way it was handled and I tried to understand their feelings but those same feelings were not reciprocated. We as a generation of fighting men became isolated and went underground. Those feelings of isolation and loneliness stayed with many veterans for the remainder of their lives.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font color="#000000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjdWDFCWZmR9bsFVV318vZ5b8xFMUKLoNzdhvLwr43NvKSF0kRULZH47t4Hd9yBH5RkSd576wO6uxNWkR7c0RmKaXfT63KSrfbd2zKaBIKOMEK4Rl7ugnxvjEcJPEu-maODgb2em0HCZg/s640/blogger-image-320307882.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjdWDFCWZmR9bsFVV318vZ5b8xFMUKLoNzdhvLwr43NvKSF0kRULZH47t4Hd9yBH5RkSd576wO6uxNWkR7c0RmKaXfT63KSrfbd2zKaBIKOMEK4Rl7ugnxvjEcJPEu-maODgb2em0HCZg/s640/blogger-image-320307882.jpg"></a></font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Hue City and the Citadel will remain with me always and the people I met are a testament to the human spirit. Not letting go but at the same time living in the moment I'm comfortable knowing the people of Hue are moving forward.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Traveling on the original Highway 1, a highly contested route during the war, I'm heading south from Hue hugging the coastline and The South China Sea. The long bus ride gives me time to reflect on the sights and sounds of central Vietnam. Mountains turn to beaches as I pass through Da Nang a booming seaside city. The Port of Da Nang is one one of the wealthiest areas of Vietnam. Renounded for its beaches it also boasts as being one of the centers for banking and finance in the country. This once haven for American military units it's roll during the war was vital. Attacks on Da Nang were simultaneous with Hue and it suffered many losses. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">My first stop southbound is the beachfront community of Hoi An. This quaint town is a backpackers haven for beaches and the fun and games associated with it. Particular who enters their town I have to buy a pass to just enter and walk around. It's a kind of Hoi An Visa and it cost 120,000 Dong or about $6 American and I must carry it at all times.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Selfie on the bus ride heading south.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc_XUP-FFHXYbQzV5FAc7MPUSkrQ9kYzvmqTnDbQEQkEdVKNhffwS3jM3KgsXTr1XKSXHa7y2Lrd1rVL44859GzEreaSU2fwYE3CDOo6HXbIKspReaBI3Oicj1Hhi5dZpsROHiN5sEFQE/s640/blogger-image--870068494.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc_XUP-FFHXYbQzV5FAc7MPUSkrQ9kYzvmqTnDbQEQkEdVKNhffwS3jM3KgsXTr1XKSXHa7y2Lrd1rVL44859GzEreaSU2fwYE3CDOo6HXbIKspReaBI3Oicj1Hhi5dZpsROHiN5sEFQE/s640/blogger-image--870068494.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Where the mountains meet the sea, I took this picture from my window seat.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6AA7Hu4Ryw5SBymkqzXkqtF_Yua0ZVDhXBJ8BHVpwIzHJqXHUfczl8_D7CDgjeq-ne4ULirsJ_592BW87gy9VpAB2oio6KZHuBgboKYQ8qA8YGG8myOTXihnce2i3cWlIGSdZu6KD42Y/s640/blogger-image-919965393.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6AA7Hu4Ryw5SBymkqzXkqtF_Yua0ZVDhXBJ8BHVpwIzHJqXHUfczl8_D7CDgjeq-ne4ULirsJ_592BW87gy9VpAB2oio6KZHuBgboKYQ8qA8YGG8myOTXihnce2i3cWlIGSdZu6KD42Y/s640/blogger-image-919965393.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Rest Area Vietnam style. The bunker was built by the French and used by the Japanese to guard the coastline. There are numerous ones dotting the coastline.<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-C8x-_Tzvf-lcf21fLSWctMwikMQHsv4GSedafkPmqA3lvO_zx5PCmMb8_ZxamSDXpSPJn2pnLl6_svpbgoTfFWkTJfWCdb6pXzVsCUyRmmUnwpKiHvtOjyakepVIT2l55V1VgBkzIio/s640/blogger-image--939546863.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-C8x-_Tzvf-lcf21fLSWctMwikMQHsv4GSedafkPmqA3lvO_zx5PCmMb8_ZxamSDXpSPJn2pnLl6_svpbgoTfFWkTJfWCdb6pXzVsCUyRmmUnwpKiHvtOjyakepVIT2l55V1VgBkzIio/s640/blogger-image--939546863.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>View of the South China Sea.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc8o5xvsvVW5defX_WXUnAmkx6YmVJzNJBGQTCyX_wMneZPJsHVTPvoSg1UYKukt-eAz30O5VXSdyzVkJTYkwCqbNl3VMUtm-tgCrBvsylb1KYs1uI3gH0qDdRNjVKHLHCNSxwXQ10fNw/s640/blogger-image-1022233309.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc8o5xvsvVW5defX_WXUnAmkx6YmVJzNJBGQTCyX_wMneZPJsHVTPvoSg1UYKukt-eAz30O5VXSdyzVkJTYkwCqbNl3VMUtm-tgCrBvsylb1KYs1uI3gH0qDdRNjVKHLHCNSxwXQ10fNw/s640/blogger-image-1022233309.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Da Nang Beach from the road.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_-2eY66lKa33U2n3_qOQ0DVtylZ9wk1hoHcsMG05S63OEf-br48ooj5PGgCLknNpYlKvUOu-DzjQniZPSlqPAlqSGPjvIsfo0nD4EGzfIZHndE9WBporBrRGyS1x0wgnY9GHH380xlb8/s640/blogger-image--1173596655.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_-2eY66lKa33U2n3_qOQ0DVtylZ9wk1hoHcsMG05S63OEf-br48ooj5PGgCLknNpYlKvUOu-DzjQniZPSlqPAlqSGPjvIsfo0nD4EGzfIZHndE9WBporBrRGyS1x0wgnY9GHH380xlb8/s640/blogger-image--1173596655.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Da Nang Beach<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh16cLmwgRLW6xpVe3AF7NfEaDo9O1tBdlXlx2jVQLdnn3MxaT18DRiuZIUlB8JOfW32rJvqPeas7dmRKhcjgKvj6Xkf4DupYzYZ9VOtgegnRGMzH8SW4hVEbOor3lJRRvjCDlC23uYRT4/s640/blogger-image--2054027503.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh16cLmwgRLW6xpVe3AF7NfEaDo9O1tBdlXlx2jVQLdnn3MxaT18DRiuZIUlB8JOfW32rJvqPeas7dmRKhcjgKvj6Xkf4DupYzYZ9VOtgegnRGMzH8SW4hVEbOor3lJRRvjCDlC23uYRT4/s640/blogger-image--2054027503.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>The City of Da Nang crossing the harbor.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnzTKTj0lkyoB13kEw-qp9HzhDaxS4b5bzP3xmf_qpqOVGLtyNkcZOB2cNq7e3SUlE2cwRnJrIOP_MrKl6Shp-jqufnPHKqhhmVxlc_Hc48hm2qbdypzzsUbEvkxdj4qdc5gWikMuOHkA/s640/blogger-image-1182621751.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnzTKTj0lkyoB13kEw-qp9HzhDaxS4b5bzP3xmf_qpqOVGLtyNkcZOB2cNq7e3SUlE2cwRnJrIOP_MrKl6Shp-jqufnPHKqhhmVxlc_Hc48hm2qbdypzzsUbEvkxdj4qdc5gWikMuOHkA/s640/blogger-image-1182621751.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>On long bus rides I get to reflect and try to absorb</div><div>Some of the sights and sounds of Central Vietnam.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhra97_qEDW5iawpnR3GsfSFFjT60e4qgue31MYrwwWgeCQvm9rRs7A2-VupfsKv0P52WEt74vP-rc-PiquYuECwMVxmV4WiZkeB3bNcb_glA1vd50xY6v3y007n3YyaxzTeawG2dojCYA/s640/blogger-image-1609329270.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhra97_qEDW5iawpnR3GsfSFFjT60e4qgue31MYrwwWgeCQvm9rRs7A2-VupfsKv0P52WEt74vP-rc-PiquYuECwMVxmV4WiZkeB3bNcb_glA1vd50xY6v3y007n3YyaxzTeawG2dojCYA/s640/blogger-image-1609329270.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">ATTENTION: TO POST A COMMENT OR QUESTION GO TO THE WORD COMMENT BELOW AND CLICK ON IT. 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LEAVE YOUR COMMENT IN THE COMMENT BOX AND CLICK PUBLISH.<o:p></o:p><br><br></span><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b></b><br></span><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b>IF YOU RECEIVED THIS POST BY AUTO NOTIFICATION CLICK ON THE PTSD GENERATION VIETNAM LINK BELOW,</b> <b>THEN FOLLOW THE SAME INSTRUCTIONS.</b></b></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div></div>Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-9712903977931716612014-10-17T21:09:00.000-07:002014-10-18T04:14:53.331-07:00HUEHue is the intellectual, cultural, and spiritual heart of Vietnam. Sitting on the northern bank of the Perfume River (Song Huong River) it is a World Heritage site boasting the grand Citadel built by ancient emperors in 1802. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Hue, the original capital, remained the heart of Vietnam until the Potsdam Aggreement in 1945 when Vietnam was divided at the 16th parallel. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">According to the agreement China would control the north and the British would control the south while France getting back on its feet after WWII returned to reclaim the territory it lost during the war. Throw in the Viet Minh government of Ho Chi Minh in Hanoi and Hue City, just south of the dividing line, is in total disarray. Ho claimed Hanoi in the north to be the new capital of Vietnam while Diem, his counterpart inserted by the French, claims Saigon to be the new capital in the south. Hue City unseated as the capital is now a city without an identity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">The 1968 Tet Offensive was some of the bloodiest fighting of the war and the Battle of Hue City was the bloodiest fighting of the Tet Offensive. It's historical and religious significance was secondary to it's military importance. The US's MACV (Military Assistance Command Vietnam) and South Vietnam's ARVN (Army of the Republic of Vietnam) both had their headquarters located within the city. Strategically located just south of the DMZ (demilitarized zone) on the Perfume River and close to the South China Sea it was a prime target for a major attack. </span></div>
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On January 30,1968 intelligence received information of impeding attacks on cities south of Hue and preparations were made to head in that direction. Undetected elements of the Vietcong's 12th Unit and Hue Sapper Battalions slipped into the city during the night and made preparations for an offensive. The following morning under the cover of dense fog a battalion of the People's Army of Vietnam, (PAVN) or North Vietnam, were advancing from the west and were within attacking distance. Hue City was under siege. </div>
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ARVN units were first to be attacked by rocket fire as two additional PAVN units attacked from the northwest and the southeast. The objective was the Citadel in the north part of the city and the US's MACV headquarters in the south. By days end the Communists held most of Hue south of the river and the southern half of the Citadel. That night the Vietcong hoisted their flag in the Citadel, known as the Palace of Peace, they claimed the city as their's. Surrounded by the communists 200 Americans and Austalians held on in the MACV compound while the ARVN's held the north half of the Citadel. </div>
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The US Marine Base at Phu Bai, the closest to Hue, received the distress call and responded but was a long distance away and a considerably small unit for this operation. Reaching the city they were beaten back for several days as additional units were deployed. The 1st Marine Division continued to send units piecemeal but failed to clear the city as the Communists advanced.</div>
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Hue jail held 2500 prisoners which were released by the communists adding 500 more fighters to the attacking forces. A weapons depot stockpiled with American munitions also fell fortifying these additional fighters. In addition the A Shau Valley lines were still open assuring that the attackers were well fortified. Eventually five more battalions were added to the nine already in the city. </div>
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General Westmoreland believing the Communists would attack Khe Sanh underestimated the attack on Hue and was reluctant to use air power to aid the Allied Forces. Siting the nature of close urban fighting and the desire not to damage the historical significance of the Citadel he was sidelined by the onslaught. After almost two weeks of bloody fighting the ARVN commander ordered whatever air power necessary to sever the Communist attack. Air strikes followed his orders destroying many historical landmarks.</div>
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Simultaneously US 1st Air Calvary began air assaults on landing zones six miles northwest of the city to cut off supply routes as additional units landed to the west trying to link up. Both units were repelled for a week. Westmoreland now committed additional battalions as more 1st Air Calvary and 101st Airborne units from Khe Sanh flooded the city. The Marines continued to send in units and eventually crossed the river and joined the ARVN forces. The enemy held on and the fighting continued for two more weeks from house to house and for the first time in the war both sides used tear gas. On February 25, 1968 the 1st Calvary closed off the Communists supply line from Khe Sanh and the ARVN cleared the Citadel. The Battle of Hue City was over but not without leaving a tragic legacy. </div>
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The Allied forces unearthed the first of the mass graves left by the Communist onslaught as a systematic slaughter of civilians was taking place during the occupation. Searchers found 2,810 bodies in mass graves carried out by Vietcong cadres and thousands more remained missing. Scholars believe that as many as 5,700 innocent civilians were murdered in that one month of fighting.</div>
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STATISTICS:</div>
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600 dead</div>
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3,194 wounded</div>
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5,000 dead</div>
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89 captured</div>
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Civilians</div>
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116,000 homeless</div>
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out of 140,000 residents</div>
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countless died in the fighting</div>
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possibly 5,700 murdered</div>
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50% of the city completely destroyed</div>
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Fighting from house to house destroying the city one building at a time.<br>
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Soldiers advance inch by inch using tanks to lead the way.<br>
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The Grand Citadel held by the Communists, the center for religious and spiritual Vietnam, was heavily damaged. At one point the Vietcong raised their flag over the Citadel and declared the city theirs.<br>
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Although the Battle of Hue City was one of the bloodiest of the Vietnam War scenarios similar to this one played out hundreds of times throughout Vietnam. Young American men trained to fight and survive dealt with death as a daily routine and sometimes it became just another day at the office.<br>
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The hardest part of a night ambush was finding the right spot to set up. If the area was to open we would be spotted but if there was to much foliage we would be confined without escape. We decided on an open situation close to a woodline offering us a backup plan for retreat. Intelligence suggested there were Vietcong in the area so our coordinates were adjusted for that purpose. We were a considerable distance from the main unit for a <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">six man team to operate but there we were setting up for the night. Doling out guard duty randomly we spread out over a considerable distance so one well placed blast wouldn't take out more than one of us. </span></div>
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The stars were visible and it was one of those beautiful Vietnam nights broken only by the sound of rumbling in the distance. Thinking of a hot dry <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">summer night back home, the kind with thunder and lightening but no rain, I made comparisons yet I knew better. This all to familiar sound of thunder and lightening were bombs and battles relentlessly raging night after night. Like background highway traffic noise that's always there you get used to it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">At one end of this line we called a perimeter Peter and I laid out our equipment and I pulled the first two hour guard duty shift while the others rested. Being on my feet all day humping or fighting I was always tired and sitting perfectly still and staying awake was difficult. My eyes began playing tricks on me as I rubbed the sleep out of them. I began imaging I saw things then they disappeared and so the night went on. Rubbing my eyes again I saw people walking across the field perpendicular to us so I woke Peter.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Peter and I were childhood friends in Bay Shore New York and after graduation we joined the Army together. The draft was coming and it was either that or a two year enlistment on the Buddy System. Why wait for the inevitable we thought so we joined. Together in basic and later in advanced training we now found ourselves sitting in the dark on a night mission. Always together, we jokingly told everyone we were cousins. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Opening his eyes, Peter saw the same appiritions and they were getting closer. The signal went down the line until all were on alert. On lead we knew no one would make a move without us so we watched these figures meandering across the field as we held our breath and waited. Getting closer they approached a fork in the path and began turning away. Rather than lose them Peter opened up with his M-16 and two fell immediately, I followed and a third hit the ground. Having the element of surprise was on our side and the remaining Viercong took cover in the woodline. Soon all went quiet again and returned to a peaceful Vietnam night accompanied by the rumbling in the background. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I was up for the rest of the night and sitting in the</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> same position as daylight broke. I could now see the result of the previous night as Peter and I recorded our first kills. We called it in and headquarters sent a team out for the extraction of the bodies as we prepared for another mission. In that team was an embedded reporter from the Daily News. Delta had a reputation as the "go to guys" but in the unit we were known as the New York cousins. When the reporter heard about us he wrote this story and on April 28,1969 this article hit the New York papers.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgL2g1SZQn-KY5qW3algpbABEVWQKgm8Q2bMJFFKAsvzRSyqbOFxwykS2JyIrz0J0c-4yMvIGexGRk7gV1IrxNvTv5F9gnEamV5TMKLmxQTiP98XfuH8MgF68Tcu4GMK1zLc0MU2ENn8/s640/blogger-image--2052582834.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgL2g1SZQn-KY5qW3algpbABEVWQKgm8Q2bMJFFKAsvzRSyqbOFxwykS2JyIrz0J0c-4yMvIGexGRk7gV1IrxNvTv5F9gnEamV5TMKLmxQTiP98XfuH8MgF68Tcu4GMK1zLc0MU2ENn8/s640/blogger-image--2052582834.jpg"></a>On display in THE ART OF WAR exhibition.</div>
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The average age of a Vietnam soldier was 19 years old as compared to WWII which was 26. That means some men in Vietnam were 21 and some were 17. Sid, one of our six man team, went in the Army at 17 years old.</div>
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Fighting and killing was our job, weither it was the Battle of Hue City or a night ambush, we were programmed to kill and we treated it as another day of work. The indifference and cheapness of life during war removes us from the reality of the situation. To survive emotionally we had to be indifferent to the act of killing or convince ourselves of a false sense of reality. We were right and they were wrong about what we didn't know but thats the way it was. The strange part about killing is the false sense of righteousness instilled in us. We carried it with pride. At the time I killed I didn't question my motives I just assumed it was right and so I performed my job. It got me through each day.</div>
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Feelings come into play when a fellow soldier is killed or voporized by a bomb but only in retrospect. I tried not to get to close to anyone because they might not be there tomorrow. Only in the case of Peter would it have made a difference if he were killed. A dead soldier is sacred but in the grand scheme of things we fight and forget and the remembering comes later. </div>
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A few days after our first kills we worked an area heavily fortified with munition caches and booby traps. It was a duel ambush mission with our sister squad and we discussed the set up arrangements before we left. Take the high road or the low road it didn't matter, we went one way and they went the other knowing we would be in constant visual contact. Unfortunately it did matter. Our sister squad set off a land mine and several men were vaporized right before our eyes. We watched in disbelief knowing it could have been us.<br>
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I don't remember their names because it was the nature of our business. The game of life with a fine line as a buffer zone between fantasy and reality gets us through our surreal adventures of each day. There will be enough time later for the reality of it all, today we have work to do.</div>
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Good days followed bad days in Vietnam. I took this picture knowing that in the cloud of smoke lie dead Americans as we watched helplessly to our sister unit. </div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The rain hid the emotions in my eyes as I entered the Holy Citadel knowing that almost fifteen thousand people had died during the Battle of Hue City. The yellow starred flag of Vietnam flew proudly above the entrance to the holy city. </span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4SWhLn93EAF042MeRTqex1e0VIoOiL6IhvUByGwbR9YnLdOySsmgNQhTIFMSXLfxc-lmbIKVbh06cK8fOYtPTonaMq-iQ8j_WPU-5vtJ8altR9VBpSiuOZ82QJxY2gpcvGaqzrbXaT2s/s640/blogger-image-1266998414.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4SWhLn93EAF042MeRTqex1e0VIoOiL6IhvUByGwbR9YnLdOySsmgNQhTIFMSXLfxc-lmbIKVbh06cK8fOYtPTonaMq-iQ8j_WPU-5vtJ8altR9VBpSiuOZ82QJxY2gpcvGaqzrbXaT2s/s640/blogger-image-1266998414.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I was not permitted to take pictures inside the the holy chamber where the once ruling king held court.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwXaRQgz3LX34fBXHb00uJLINZGawDmnUh9k3gsdG18I5eUqlZC2kAK8dPMyIkH6E1db_K2FbcuhDeockllEV6YL7h_OXTDwLDqOz7NaojKKljHZS73X5wUTLS3RrXBg8O8q_CVsyqcCA/s640/blogger-image-765391115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwXaRQgz3LX34fBXHb00uJLINZGawDmnUh9k3gsdG18I5eUqlZC2kAK8dPMyIkH6E1db_K2FbcuhDeockllEV6YL7h_OXTDwLDqOz7NaojKKljHZS73X5wUTLS3RrXBg8O8q_CVsyqcCA/s640/blogger-image-765391115.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Vuong is a married 31 year old man with a 6 month old baby. Born in Hue, his father left the family before he was born and headed south to Saigon to fight with the Allied forces. His uncle on his fathers side was pressed into service by the Vietcong shortly after. Pitting brother against brother the saga of his family is tragic. His uncle, the fathers only brother, was killed in battle and it's possible by his own brother. His mother survived and fled Hue after the battle and found her way north to Hanoi. After the war his father was in prisoned by the Viet Minh government of the north. Today the family is reunited and his 71 year old father has a small farm with two water buffalo.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Vuong is my guide today and we walked and talked about the war and both our families involvement. I was infatuated by his candor and yet his father never talked about it. His family tree and it's tragic story was obtained by other sources and his father refuses to talk about the war to this day. The legacy of PTSD does not draw boundaries choosing one side or the other. Trauma is an equal opportunity demon finding its way into our lives in all walks of life. People on both sides of the fence live with the trauma of this place and the aftermath of Hue. The Citadel, the holiest of places, hides secrets in its ruins and beneath its crumbling walls the truth about ordinary people caught in unusual situations, like Vuong's father and myself, pass its legacy down to future generations.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div>The burned out walls of The Citadel remain as they were in 1968. <br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhegcRHGlohC3OYb-WWgTMCzYCWpkLCIxAZxdJhhlgEJGhT3qKsZff_lnKAvfcPAWdwFpQf3FsNwKZWqtxx1tR7jXal3lLqLbWDZ18I-ynqGkXdfMVgPWE97C2aGY8l1-7K_wJEOAmn3K4/s640/blogger-image--316223715.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhegcRHGlohC3OYb-WWgTMCzYCWpkLCIxAZxdJhhlgEJGhT3qKsZff_lnKAvfcPAWdwFpQf3FsNwKZWqtxx1tR7jXal3lLqLbWDZ18I-ynqGkXdfMVgPWE97C2aGY8l1-7K_wJEOAmn3K4/s640/blogger-image--316223715.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Selfie in one of the entrences heavily fought over.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi11KATCDYBt7Af0YiJ1XuG_yuP_1OCruALZLMp7ztvGXH40YxXsAfZNlThB_i3DiFPzXfV3vPZdnhZDpZOT87nRSaO3fOcXCghzKAhcdGp9lrKC2TqMZ416mkCC7gwWLWPS_fO2XQzTYk/s640/blogger-image-1344752996.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi11KATCDYBt7Af0YiJ1XuG_yuP_1OCruALZLMp7ztvGXH40YxXsAfZNlThB_i3DiFPzXfV3vPZdnhZDpZOT87nRSaO3fOcXCghzKAhcdGp9lrKC2TqMZ416mkCC7gwWLWPS_fO2XQzTYk/s640/blogger-image-1344752996.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>A gate remains.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQr6x5BuFtomFsr2ozhftw9iTwIeWwg6-ZEa2yPhz2T04CECDmyOJL9ccqQvuByu3DIg_aEx8bFGEM6bJFgAmJTgJwcCDQdp0Tq22Z4VKt3aqVSYA2Uc4BsvCaWwnMS9aBxNtXUMq2cb4/s640/blogger-image-13221859.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQr6x5BuFtomFsr2ozhftw9iTwIeWwg6-ZEa2yPhz2T04CECDmyOJL9ccqQvuByu3DIg_aEx8bFGEM6bJFgAmJTgJwcCDQdp0Tq22Z4VKt3aqVSYA2Uc4BsvCaWwnMS9aBxNtXUMq2cb4/s640/blogger-image-13221859.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8sICZMv6InrKVvaiLKRVFJ40qK6ADtFtkE9tUq7Ooh93dfp0hC7OBzcDipaIClKiQbl2xpIoSjnX0WwC1ZwfTGpWTzB7DMEeYwG8oEK66F9uIASf8xLINXp_ZS-RfpVmfuUCnyTMHGgg/s640/blogger-image--236800103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8sICZMv6InrKVvaiLKRVFJ40qK6ADtFtkE9tUq7Ooh93dfp0hC7OBzcDipaIClKiQbl2xpIoSjnX0WwC1ZwfTGpWTzB7DMEeYwG8oEK66F9uIASf8xLINXp_ZS-RfpVmfuUCnyTMHGgg/s640/blogger-image--236800103.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Bombed walls and bullet ridden archways are everywhere.</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVYiO4rg7NggdjG2AaZQQHpO16h38HPYbnfT0hYMb_0hg16GEQDP05Ay9UXtnxfhTYtPTSMmeRYllhK_YDS4oUlFvGDRdtfA1Gl55UtQ7GipB_V9Yr6T1IOCb_NVWE3fuxaWgbSt9bHUw/s640/blogger-image-803026990.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVYiO4rg7NggdjG2AaZQQHpO16h38HPYbnfT0hYMb_0hg16GEQDP05Ay9UXtnxfhTYtPTSMmeRYllhK_YDS4oUlFvGDRdtfA1Gl55UtQ7GipB_V9Yr6T1IOCb_NVWE3fuxaWgbSt9bHUw/s640/blogger-image-803026990.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Most likely a bomb or tank took out this wall.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd0n7En54nBQmWBFHxogv3tB1zWw8i-GaxCamvdnAPYJA2SGeOxnoSNaqPNFItoID8Xz08H3huSVeaXHN_EnrhyphenhyphenHuzdVQ2GrgXE-1n_HoGOxfembJWGGtRIjDIAVwuUf90IdVOIZOcu6c/s640/blogger-image--2126804897.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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LEAVE YOUR COMMENT IN THE COMMENT BOX AND CLICK PUBLISH.<o:p></o:p><br><br></span><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b></b><br></span><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b>IF YOU RECEIVED THIS POST BY AUTO NOTIFICATION CLICK ON THE PTSD GENERATION VIETNAM LINK BELOW,</b> <b>THEN FOLLOW THE SAME INSTRUCTIONS.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red; font-family: 'Courier New';"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><br></span></b></span></div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New'; color: red;"><b></b></span></div><font size="2"><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 10pt;"></span></font></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-46574768947695590302014-10-16T23:31:00.000-07:002014-10-17T19:10:35.522-07:00GULF OF TONKIN<div>
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As the Geneva Accords bring an end to the Indo-China War and sets new boundaries in Southeast Asia it fails to implement and police it's own decisions. In Laos the Communist leftist still control territory on the east side of the Mekong River and increase their southward movement on the Ho Chi Minh Trail as the Democratic Republic of Vietnam (DRV-North Vietnam) escalates its war capabilities. At the same time China provides 90,000 rifles and machine guns to the Peoples Liberation Armed Forces or National Liberation Front better known as the Vietcong (VC-fighting for the north) to increase their capabilities. In Russia Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev is ousted and on the heels of this major event Ho Chi Minh appeals to Moscow for support. The Soviets reply with $1 billion in military aid. China, jumping on the band wagon, ups the anti with an additional $200 million to back Ho Chi Minh and the growing Communist Party following the Tonkin Gulf Incident.<br>
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The Tonkin Gulf Incident was the tipping point the U.S. needed to justify an end to the growing concern over the spread of Communism in Vietnam. Patrolling the South China Sea the U.S. Navy destroyer the Maddox, equipped with electronic spying equipment, enters the Tonkin Gulf. Simultaneously the "DeSoto Missions", covert attack missions, were to be carried out by smaller vessels manned by South Vietnamese sailers but under U.S. control. Two islands off the coast of North Vietnam and two points on the mainland were to be shelled as fishing traullers were seized and interrogated. The job of the Maddox was to learn about North Vietnam's coastal defenses and it was believed it would learn more if they were under attack. The U.S. intentionally perpetrated this act of aggression which turned out to be the deciding factor on weither or not to go to war.</div>
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On August 2, 1964 the Maddox was unsuccessfully torpedoed by North Vietnamese ships leaving President Johnson furious that the Vietnamese escaped unharmed. On the next day the Maddox was joined by another destroyer, the C. Turner Joy, and resumed operations only further from shore reducing the destroyers ability to gather useful information. As the two ships kept a considerable distance from each other they picked up sonar readings of an undisclosed nature and began firing. President Johnson believing they were under attack gave orders for a retaliatory air strike. Operation Pierce Arrow began what would become a decade long air campaign against Norrh Vietnam. The following day Johnson asked for and got a congressional resolution, the Tonkin Gulf Resolution, which passed almost unanimously. Later evidence proved that no attack occurred and the entire incident was miss communications. </div>
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President Johnson's overall ratings skyrocketed with the handling of the incident and the Vietnam situation as a whole but that would soon dissipate. Congress believing perhaps it was duped and the incident was not a mistake but a deliberate act to draw the U.S. into the war soon turned on Johnson. In the long run his credibility was greatly damaged reducing Johnson to a one term president.</div>
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The USS Maddox patrolling the South China Sea.<br>
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The USS Maddox firing it's guns.<br>
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President Johnson signs the Tonkin Gulf Resolution and U.S. formally enters the War in Southeast Asia.<br>
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Front page news states congress is on board with President Johnson.<br>
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Fighter jets scramble across the South China Sea as Operation Pierce Arrow commences.<br>
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FIFTY YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF THE TONKIN GULF INCIDENT</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Fom beginning to end Hai Phong Harhor, Tonkin Gulf, and The South China Sea all played a major roll in The Vietnam War. Just as the mining of Hai Phong Harbor helped bring negotiations to the table The Tonkin Gulf Incident publicly justified American involvement in the war.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I got as close as I could to the cargo ships and oil tankers coming into Hanoi. The ships, waiting amongst the Limestone Kiosks, add to the growing trade and prosperity of Vietnam.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD5u71UaDVrmFvym_BrR89C57Idt7VzdMedK8FdqlJOYKMl3ZLggvR2W-7oMEsBYpN6lNQ63zGcB3ug6W-2EQ3igfs2OepHZWZRWLLlTnCRUYOn2jxfLdegX8YBSQTYszgdTw9SKwq5I8/s640/blogger-image-1416391551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD5u71UaDVrmFvym_BrR89C57Idt7VzdMedK8FdqlJOYKMl3ZLggvR2W-7oMEsBYpN6lNQ63zGcB3ug6W-2EQ3igfs2OepHZWZRWLLlTnCRUYOn2jxfLdegX8YBSQTYszgdTw9SKwq5I8/s640/blogger-image-1416391551.jpg"></font></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>
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<!--EndFragment--><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-84802583229410582122014-10-13T04:34:00.000-07:002014-11-08T01:55:20.628-08:00VIENTIANE<div>
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Unlike the Vietnam War the Secret Wars were played by a different and unusual set of rules. Due to the failure of the 1962 Geneva Accords, which declared Laos an independent and neutral state, the U.S. and Soviet Union agreed to a hands off policy creating the illusion of non involvement. For publicity sake any involvement would have to be covert to keep up the illusion.<br>
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As the spring offensive unfolds to coincide with the Tet Offensive in Vietnam The Plain of Jars is under attack and President Johnson approves Operation Barrel Roll in support of the Royal Laotian Government. On June 9, 1964 U.S. Air Force F-100's took off from Thailand on their first missions attacking antiaircraft artillery units in The Plain of Jars. This attack initiates a nine year campaign in Laos under the most bizarre circumstances. To keep up the illusion of a hands off policy agreed to by the U.S. Government the nine year campaign was totally run by the U.S. Ambassador in Vientiane. Never before or since has a non-military or non-cabinet member of the U.S. government had such power.</div>
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There were three ambassadors to Vientiane during Operation Barrel Roll: Leonard Unger, William H. Sullivan, and G. McMurtrie Godley. These three ambassadors were responsible for directing all air operations in northern Laos. Without their permission no enemy targets could be bombed and they validated targets usually with Laotian government approval. Since many of the fighters were hired murcunaries attacks were carefully orchestrated on specific areas to avoid hitting allied forces. By 1969 the ambassadors air staff alone had grown to 125 personal. There were also air operation centers throughout the five military regions under their control. The ground forces, air pilots, and staff personnel duties were hazardous and unofficial since the U.S. and Laos maintained the illusion of neutrality as per the 1962 Geneva Accord.<br>
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A different set of rules applied to The Secret Wars. Just as the ambassador controlled the air campaign the CIA controlled the ground forces. Here the head of the CIA is with Royal Lao government soldiers.</div>
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American helicopters resupply Lao fighters as the head of CIA directs operations.<br>
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American aircraft line this airfield outside of The Plain of Jars.<br>
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A hidden airfield in northern Laotian mountains.<br>
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Although The Secret Wars was a side show to the Vietnam War it took its toll on America both financially and emotionally. The two wars ran parallel to each other right up until the end. The Treaty of Ventiane signed on February 21, 1973 was a carbon copy of the Paris Peace Talks signed a month earlier, each to end their respective wars. Each mandated the withdrawal of foreign troops from their countries and new governments were to be implemented with security from joint forces. Each treaty failed shortly after it's inception and when Saigon fell in April of 1975 Vientiane fell the following November. Although the wars in Vietnam and Laos ended for the United States the conflict in Southeast Asia was far from over.</div>
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Hmong fighters supplied with American weapons took the brunt of the fighting in The Plain of Jars.<br>
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Royal Lao Government soldiers.<br>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Vang, my guide and third generation post war, was a young married Lao man with two little girls. He graduated from the university but was unable to get a job in his field because he couldn't afford the position. Laos is a Communist country and to get a good job with benefits for his family he had to purchase the job from the government. To make ends meet he toured the region with tourists and spoke fluent English.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Vang took me to Mama's place my last night in Phonsavon where I ate authentic Lao food cooked by Moma's herself. I call her Mama out of respect for lack of a better name. Moma lived and worked in the same house accompanied by her daughter and grandchildren. She put out no less than 12 very large sauce pots filled with the most aromatic delights I could imagine. I ate bamboo soup, vegetable and potatoe stew, and bar-b-q catfish. The entire catfish was impaled on a stick and I ate it right off the bone. Accompanied by a few BeerLao's it was the perfect ending to my stay. It had to be an early night he explain because of the Communist government there is a curfew for foreigners. The government not only enforces a curfew but there are places he still, after 50 years, cannot take me to. In case of another war the government wants curtain areas to remain hidden. I guess the Secret Wars will remain somewhat of a secret.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I have a two day overland travel adventure ahead of me across the Annamese Cordillera, better known as the Cinese Annamite Mountains, to Vientien the capital of Laos. I will stop in Vangvieng for the night. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I left early in the morning in time to see the Sun burning off the haze in the high country of the Annamite Mountains following another ancient trail used the Vietminh rebel forces during the war. The villages I will pass through are the decedents of the underground mountain people that moved munitions and supplies by bicycle to supply bothe Leftist and Vietcong forces.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Early in the day the Sun begins to burn off the haze. </span></div>
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As noon approaches the mountains begin to take form.<br>
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The bright green of rice fields is evident by afternoon.<br>
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Meet Steph a fellow Blogger from the UK. If you are traveling check out her critique of hotels around the world. Steph0203.blogspot.com<br>
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My lady friend is a Lao passenger going from one town to another.<br>
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We break for lunch at a roadside stand, a Lao family will cook up anything you want right on the spot.<br>
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The Annamite Mountain people have literally carved a life out of sheer rock cliffs. These ancient tribes have participated in both the Lao and Vietnam civil wars. Their dwellings hang on a ten foot ledge wedged between the road and the cliff.<br>
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Scooters are the only means of transportation.<br>
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Laundry day in the high country.<br>
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Two and three to a scooter carrying groceries fro the market.<br>
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Some simply walk.<br>
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My arduous cliffhanging journey lasted almost seven hours with several mini avalanches along the way. The half dirt half decade old broken concrete road was washed away by the heavy rains of the seasonal Monsoons. We stopped several times and waited for the road to be cleared just enough to squeeze our mini van through. Once that first vehicle can pass everything stops and life goes on. There is no attempt to buffer the remaining loose overhang just minutes away from the next landslide. I witnessed two crushed trucks pushed to the edge of disaster. The infrastructure of Laos is not twenty first and it obvious the wars have set them back fifty years.</div>
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-26855843853795990112014-10-11T06:24:00.000-07:002014-11-08T01:52:50.570-08:00SEX - DRUGS - ROCK N ROLL<br>
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Sex-Drugs-Rock n Roll was not just an American pastime but a way of life in Vientiane. As Bangkok boasted the first Go-Go Dancers Vientiane boasted Hippy Communes and Hippy culture as early as the mid-sixties. These Hippy student artists were not in Ventiane to protest the war, as stateside hippies did, these dropouts of society were here for the opium and marihuana. In Vientiane protesting the war was fruitless even if you were inclined to do so. The Secret Wars, the Laotian Civil War, Vietnam, the CIA, the invasion of Hanoi or China or France, pick one and you could protest to your hearts content. It was more advantageous to simply blend in and get high. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Communes, nightclubs, and opium dens catered to an array of young Americans that found their way to this free love and drug paradise. Under the guise of art and culture many students from around the world joined Americans in a love and drugfest Vientiane. </span></div>
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Typical psychedelic decor for the sixties this commune was commonplace in Vientiane.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvh2-6WRmAcs6n2Wci2vo8ZQF_rd32XGMOpzQc3gYYSvikS_rDQclTKQeHNqNUq8fLZNh-MrLFPONZK9TVmTfHSmc9QNGUkWncUJ6WpW42eLEdMhe2-J5vuYqDMNB32wn8Skce8WXZBHE/s640/blogger-image-2080791142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvh2-6WRmAcs6n2Wci2vo8ZQF_rd32XGMOpzQc3gYYSvikS_rDQclTKQeHNqNUq8fLZNh-MrLFPONZK9TVmTfHSmc9QNGUkWncUJ6WpW42eLEdMhe2-J5vuYqDMNB32wn8Skce8WXZBHE/s640/blogger-image-2080791142.jpg" style="cursor: move;"></a></div>
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All of Southeast Asia was flooded with drugs of every kind. Heroin, Cocaine, Morphine, and Marijuana were all accessible and of the highest quality. This Opium Den was an acceptable social phenomenon and frequented by hippies and soldiers alike.</div>
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"The Third Eye" a nightclub with psychedelic decor was a popular scene in many clubs in Vientiane.</div>
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In the middle of this chaos we called Southeast Asia there will be eventually 40 countries involved in the Vietnam War, The Secret War, and the killings in Cambodia making it the most chaotic and confusing battlefield in the history of warfare. If you add a Hippy culture, opium dens, young lonely soldiers, and an abundance of drugs you have the makings of a serious problem.</div>
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Drugs were not only a civilian pastime but a war problem as we'll.<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> From 1968 to the end of the Vietnam War the Department of Defense estimated that 70 percent of U.S. servicemen used some sort of illegal drug. Cheap and available to most servicemen it was a distraction from the mundane life of war especially among combat soldiers. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">This opium pipe, on display in THE ART OF WAR exhibit, is carved from a water buffalo's horn. It's ornate scrimshaw-like design makes it a collectable as well as a useful pipe. Many soldiers carried and used uniquely decorated pipes. </span></div>
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It was called Firebase Jeannie and it offered little more than the rice paddies we saw on missions. On rare occasions we were allowed in camp when we were not out on search and destroy missions or setting up a six man night ambush. This camp was nothing more than dug out holes in the ground with metal half-pipes covered in sandbags but there was safety in numbers and we welcomed the change. Relaxing was not on the agenda so we grabbed a bite to eat and immediately went on guard duty. As luck would have it Peter and I were elected for the first shift. We had a bad reputation even by Delta's standards so it was poor judgement asking us knowing we just came out of the field.</div>
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It was a typical Vietnam balmy night and the air was perfectly still. After an hour of nothing but looking at each other we relaxed. Being out in the bush countless days, pulling guard duty was the last thing we wanted and boredom set in fast. We decided to get high. Obtaining pot (marijuana) was not a problem, most of the men in our unit carried a bag. As we lit up our first joint a cloud of smoke hung in the night air above us like a comic strip character with bubble thoughts. The air was heavy so it remained still drawing the attention of the captain who now hunted us down. Reprimanding us and threatening to give us a Court Marshal (Army trial) he ranted and raved about legality as he flared his hands in the air.</div>
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We yes sired and no sired him as we put out the joint and promised to behave. Watcging him walk away into the darkness and out of sight we reignited our joint and began creating another bubble cloud. This time the cloud was even bigger and thicker as we tryed to see through it and keep an eye on the perimeter. Perhaps it was our lack of attention to detail but suddenly there he was again fighting his way through the cloud. He appeared to be yelling but the sound was distant and the level not so intense. He made his case once again and once again he vanished as quickly as he appeared.</div>
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He should have pulled guard duty himself because on his third visit he had spent almost as much time out there as we did. Having a change of heart about his approach he implored us to please stop siting the excuse that he himself would get into trouble. At that point the humor of the situation was clear, at least to us, so we began to make our case. We were in hell by any stretch of the imagination so what would be our punishment, perhaps you are going to send us home we asked? At that point he simply left us alone to carry on. </div>
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Most soldiers in my unit were 18 or 19 years old and living on the edge of disaster. Given the power of a gun and the training to kill on a moments notice was almost to much for young minds to understand. Speaking for myself, I had no fear of anything and the thought of being told what to do then threaghtened was not computing in my mind. Drugs in most cases were a distraction from the death and cheapness of life we called Vietnam. </div>
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Firebase Jeannie was little more than dug out holes and sandbag bunkers. Here I am cooking dinner in an old can I found with my Bowie knife, probably powered eggs and canned hot dogs. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJcnwSja7vZNLtrLrAwAEV1wV9J2sI3cshyi8H0P3vDtURETlvSs_ZAcDBT1EYAsNSjpGTF_YDHEOgwDiiCZWiG_skNVSltYHv6NRaKjN7mBW49OBPDaDDhY5R9rmdQHri0wux-fZWX8/s640/blogger-image--893385345.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJcnwSja7vZNLtrLrAwAEV1wV9J2sI3cshyi8H0P3vDtURETlvSs_ZAcDBT1EYAsNSjpGTF_YDHEOgwDiiCZWiG_skNVSltYHv6NRaKjN7mBW49OBPDaDDhY5R9rmdQHri0wux-fZWX8/s640/blogger-image--893385345.jpg"></a></div>
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Sometimes I had my boots on for a week or more in water and mud so you can imagine how good it felt to air out my feet. Posing with a grenade launcher I am standing in front of the bunker we pulled guard duty on. I had this jacket specially made to carry two dozen grenades. Add the flak jacket, helmet, food, munitions and M-16 to a one hundred degree day and it was a heavy load to carry.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc4F5z_9RQznAHP92ihcqsSKAIMRF0cSktRc8HQMsH5Xrx8EqdIMEZqUDeWtfq97yl61gU2B9941WozkPQZJtZpN6me2X7448JadelA5W9_wSyncAGv_ECJ7OhSie7RsiBvIpHmSSJHrw/s640/blogger-image--1378923571.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc4F5z_9RQznAHP92ihcqsSKAIMRF0cSktRc8HQMsH5Xrx8EqdIMEZqUDeWtfq97yl61gU2B9941WozkPQZJtZpN6me2X7448JadelA5W9_wSyncAGv_ECJ7OhSie7RsiBvIpHmSSJHrw/s640/blogger-image--1378923571.jpg"></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;"><br></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">The site of the Annamite Mountains is not a bad way to wake to start my second day of travel to Vientien the capital of Laos. After yesterday's endless journey across the mountains I was not looking forward to another mini bus ride.</span></div></div></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24snnR61LwfF7a7HEWfVgQg_PHloodfUjW8iLod6ZM4-0z8YbOchqzMg4GseeZFBmaaLuwjX7nifdYmwuWN5k_TGDfUREPrdOFooSmeYX-nN3yXaP4Og4nLruYcFlz_Cdcj4FX2i_RqY/s640/blogger-image--1273745541.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24snnR61LwfF7a7HEWfVgQg_PHloodfUjW8iLod6ZM4-0z8YbOchqzMg4GseeZFBmaaLuwjX7nifdYmwuWN5k_TGDfUREPrdOFooSmeYX-nN3yXaP4Og4nLruYcFlz_Cdcj4FX2i_RqY/s640/blogger-image--1273745541.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Today I sat in the back of a large bus and stretched out in the comfort of my own space. It was a pleasure to travel in style for awhile and share the journey with fellow travelers. <br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw71V7F9D-G7iNgXUmilfFFq_BvicaAhMDuEek5dmUn1MkSNJvBwuC0kPqDwFdxLznhyphenhyphenvcj7P9sJ7hjP_AljPNoEthKjJuNb3APIeRCmJtkQ8-xj1TzSEjucKywRHCLvsKULCDCXb4Dic/s640/blogger-image--584880523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw71V7F9D-G7iNgXUmilfFFq_BvicaAhMDuEek5dmUn1MkSNJvBwuC0kPqDwFdxLznhyphenhyphenvcj7P9sJ7hjP_AljPNoEthKjJuNb3APIeRCmJtkQ8-xj1TzSEjucKywRHCLvsKULCDCXb4Dic/s640/blogger-image--584880523.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Arriving in Vientien in the late afternoon I was immediately struck by the diversity of the city. Side by side the upper and lower classes of Vientien work in a harmonious semi chaotic life. Not as hustle bustle as Bangkok yet busier than any other city I visited it had a peaceful relaxed feeling for the Capital of Laos. <br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIKZsWq3fLAS9J87sEkjoHY7omOLbT9HjYrC28TBoxb-BfNSUQCESR26m0d2ivI6cDiW2uosNRVKZe7k1smnEuD9fBg0_aPMDRa7YJjdlDQxcrPak4HWoJzxjf9KNUNiimGY-YuuGYohQ/s640/blogger-image--1188309322.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIKZsWq3fLAS9J87sEkjoHY7omOLbT9HjYrC28TBoxb-BfNSUQCESR26m0d2ivI6cDiW2uosNRVKZe7k1smnEuD9fBg0_aPMDRa7YJjdlDQxcrPak4HWoJzxjf9KNUNiimGY-YuuGYohQ/s640/blogger-image--1188309322.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div>Modern shops carry an array of western style clothing.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhow0XUOwU1X8_iFrcCfjLeYXnyS_dvKIbebIxBwzckphvvFg11SulOv-S5bXXLiUBDg3vgwxOV2UrYOLOkz1LeDPUbFVf4ZlhYHdijdchr7An6Wbc29C9uHLzgzf3Sbm0NNdRAE1_eVC4/s640/blogger-image--2106857137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhow0XUOwU1X8_iFrcCfjLeYXnyS_dvKIbebIxBwzckphvvFg11SulOv-S5bXXLiUBDg3vgwxOV2UrYOLOkz1LeDPUbFVf4ZlhYHdijdchr7An6Wbc29C9uHLzgzf3Sbm0NNdRAE1_eVC4/s640/blogger-image--2106857137.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div>The streets are narrow and remind me of the back streets of lower Manhattan in the financial district.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNx37QTVlboO6KiswsaGFtTs2b_9qIXXmOspn-YtXEv4Obsm01-xmhziWtcAsUxsEnA02B78ZRPrFCnbbxYcBmI2YJUpPcLeDn0JUvMXnmADXiRYlc3mcrY5c5wkUffl_tO9zNHAHA8pk/s640/blogger-image-788848660.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNx37QTVlboO6KiswsaGFtTs2b_9qIXXmOspn-YtXEv4Obsm01-xmhziWtcAsUxsEnA02B78ZRPrFCnbbxYcBmI2YJUpPcLeDn0JUvMXnmADXiRYlc3mcrY5c5wkUffl_tO9zNHAHA8pk/s640/blogger-image-788848660.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div>Sitting on the Mekong River Vientiene is old and modern at the same time. Old buildings on the right sit directly across from modern buildings on the left. This promenade runs the length of the city along the river and is a market place in the evening. <br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwJ4wcwOw-4_760Lh-WCzcVb_n8M4Ya4WWA2jYAAJKfOAKDiJ078HlOfyc2pgzCd0nvSwgp4HxeOnawT6mokx-iCXS-MEFExPLxfVdKBWuoV0-sma_ukAsV84CP2KSm_CmHkVQRqI9fWw/s640/blogger-image-2063795777.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwJ4wcwOw-4_760Lh-WCzcVb_n8M4Ya4WWA2jYAAJKfOAKDiJ078HlOfyc2pgzCd0nvSwgp4HxeOnawT6mokx-iCXS-MEFExPLxfVdKBWuoV0-sma_ukAsV84CP2KSm_CmHkVQRqI9fWw/s640/blogger-image-2063795777.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div>The promenade is lined with Communist flags boasting the old world renowned "Hammer and Sickle".<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Lmv7pyqOpGppN-7ue5VZDxvUS8SNg-1VbuAiJyoilTkEQ-0AXUxTmwPDnLKrBYL_AuZvcX_dK6xjQxxXq-2Xe7hPYENUgCr84gPlGMTEzllhNtIXsbAl90s2zr4OydK75SX4X0SotSU/s640/blogger-image-1434053704.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Lmv7pyqOpGppN-7ue5VZDxvUS8SNg-1VbuAiJyoilTkEQ-0AXUxTmwPDnLKrBYL_AuZvcX_dK6xjQxxXq-2Xe7hPYENUgCr84gPlGMTEzllhNtIXsbAl90s2zr4OydK75SX4X0SotSU/s640/blogger-image-1434053704.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div>The Mekong River, my old friend. The other side of the river is Thailand.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZV3XJBWJ7c6JUoH28rJJuehIwqLTHtV58ZeGk5nCaL3b8dabzNcw7hdbgVutNvE6A2VFV4nGHftovs1QvReQfxgZQgal_QI0NbQKBGStFUM9ukKf6DK3XdIitt01cBBDRBL3nO2vsINg/s640/blogger-image--1068041485.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZV3XJBWJ7c6JUoH28rJJuehIwqLTHtV58ZeGk5nCaL3b8dabzNcw7hdbgVutNvE6A2VFV4nGHftovs1QvReQfxgZQgal_QI0NbQKBGStFUM9ukKf6DK3XdIitt01cBBDRBL3nO2vsINg/s640/blogger-image--1068041485.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The Cope Center reflects the relentless bombing campaign unleashed on this country throughtout the Secret Wars and sits in the heart of the city. I spoke with several travelers and they were appalled by the extent of damage left behind. It's daily shows are filled with tourist from all over the world. World organizations exhibit the extent of UXO's and the need for help to deal with the problem. As a poor Communist country the government does little to help with this ongoing issue. The legacy of America is felt with each visitor and carried with them to foreign lands. Perhaps we may want to rethink some of our positions.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">ATTENTION: TO POST A COMMENT OR QUESTION GO TO THE WORD COMMENT BELOW AND CLICK ON IT. A DROP DOWN BOX WILL APPEAR AND SAY SELECT PROFILE. CLICK ON THE WORDS SELECT PROFILE AND A DROPDOWN BOX WILL GIVE YOU OPTIONS. IF YOU DO NOT HAVE A GOOGLE ACCOUNT CLICK ON ANONYMOUS. LEAVE YOUR COMMENT IN THE COMMENT BOX AND CLICK PUBLISH.<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b></b><br></span><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b>IF YOU RECEIVED THIS POST BY AUTO NOTIFICATION CLICK ON THE PTSD GENERATION VIETNAM LINK BELOW,</b> <b>THEN FOLLOW THE SAME INSTRUCTIONS.</b></span></div></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-79556922634439621582014-10-10T06:55:00.001-07:002014-11-08T01:52:24.610-08:00HMONG PEOPLE TODAYI left the Homg people and headed to the Laos Vietnam border on an eight hour mini van ride through the mountainous region of eastern Laos. I traveled on one of the ancient footpaths used by the Viet Minh supplied leftist regime during the Laos civil war. These footpaths were later widened into transportation routes for the Viet Minh Regime of Ho Chi Minh during the Vietnam War. These infamous trails I traveled were the beginning of the Ho Chi Minh Trail.<div><br></div><div><br></div>The mountainous region of eastern Laos used by the Viet Minh Regime of North vietnam. <br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjathTGixHmaOkZt9BRjAIXme6SGkj_dRbbbAhqcxAvuoLvvfC9tggT7dpKxDB_A0w6xoctZ_4PxwDQFs1HMhCvkqzyyjPGpF_hHNyu3hCQSqFSWVJaZIV3q5iH7odvR7-0Ryyd6qfTZUk/s640/blogger-image-1294234065.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjathTGixHmaOkZt9BRjAIXme6SGkj_dRbbbAhqcxAvuoLvvfC9tggT7dpKxDB_A0w6xoctZ_4PxwDQFs1HMhCvkqzyyjPGpF_hHNyu3hCQSqFSWVJaZIV3q5iH7odvR7-0Ryyd6qfTZUk/s640/blogger-image-1294234065.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">As I leave the beautiful Hmong people I feel a sense of peace within each of us. I discussed politics while I was here and aftermath of war and the heartache and struggle to regain a proud heritage. My guide was Hmong and we talked of his elders and the issues of survival for his family. His parents remember vividly the hard times created by the war and the never ending struggle just to eat. He asked me a lot of questions and we talked for hours as we sailed down the Mekong River. We found each other fascinating and we became friends. In his honor I am posting the faces of the Hmong people as I see them. Their recovery and triumph justify their pride as a people and a testament to the human spirit. The faces of the Hmong people.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOGB0r6mG0pnimvrILEKDFyeFuJ_h1sfqowJZbJfdCWKLRPFC51uMaCcQJUaNN3eLhLYnQIUg9wApuP1gdDiSx9sXN-9ThEyYBBBvY6w0X6JiblesH9i0gnXyeMCdkXA4nCCF9w1N0OfM/s640/blogger-image--804912002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOGB0r6mG0pnimvrILEKDFyeFuJ_h1sfqowJZbJfdCWKLRPFC51uMaCcQJUaNN3eLhLYnQIUg9wApuP1gdDiSx9sXN-9ThEyYBBBvY6w0X6JiblesH9i0gnXyeMCdkXA4nCCF9w1N0OfM/s640/blogger-image--804912002.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpwbAzmjYnRaOTLs1Fe4u3-C1paUgWi8m4hIsnGSe2iF4v_e1JexO0VDHcZ4fFwgEo9zLp4OFWzDP-wGbADdE4Em5Q7GXHq_YCN6EbWsCrD2xYojMD0ScuaJZ01KC6yC-_HrlgqD_13I/s640/blogger-image-83215646.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpwbAzmjYnRaOTLs1Fe4u3-C1paUgWi8m4hIsnGSe2iF4v_e1JexO0VDHcZ4fFwgEo9zLp4OFWzDP-wGbADdE4Em5Q7GXHq_YCN6EbWsCrD2xYojMD0ScuaJZ01KC6yC-_HrlgqD_13I/s640/blogger-image-83215646.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0BpdMKHkmutNoPJzQ9ScB-ZOZKuEwR0ZiiZ8brR7R30Jv0NciPJGju1aGRBVcUT05ILYzIUqM4c_dIRfXfTZ4PTl2-zr9LDoUeCrxoyJ6vh0b132appcQSdESBnHIc-xIQ7ZHMyjw9Iw/s640/blogger-image-1058247656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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Northern Thailand is a lush mountainous region known for its natural beauty. It was here that ancient cultures built their religious and cultural centers. Relatively close to Burma, Laos , and Southwestern China it was a mecca for cultural exchanges and the seat of the ancient kingdom of Lanna Thai (Million Thai Rice Fields). In the center of it all is the ancient city of Chiang Mai.<br>
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Architecture 101 begins by designing a facility geometrically square so as not to confuse the pupil and Old Chiang Mai was just that, a square city. To add to the simplicity of a square city the original architects built a square wall and moat around the square city. Their theory of this ancient 700 year old medieval wall was for protection against Burmese invaders. The simplicity of Chiang Mai's outer appearance ends there, internally it's <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">a treasure trove of historic holy temples that exhibit northern Thai architecture and culture.</span><br>
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Strategically northern Thailand is an interesting area as related to the Vietnam War. A stones throw from Myanmar (Burma), Laos, and China it was a place of interest for all parties involved. Burma politically neutral, China Communist, and Laos divided gave the allied forces reason to patroll northern Thailand with a vigilant eye. Western Laos still under Royal Government control up to the Mekong River fought Communist occupied territories east of the Mekong and conducted a simultaneous civil war along side it's ally Vietnam. <br>
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This 700 year old wall surrounds the old city against invaders, architecturally a formidable masterpiece but it pails in comparison to the treasures that lie within. Although I was raised Catholic I'm closer to Buddhism in theory and the spiritual experience was everything I hoped it would be.</div>
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To accommodate the 21st century Chaing Mai built modern facilities outside the old city. Here you see public transportation on the right and shops on the left.<br>
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Attacking the city was a task and that's probably why the ancient city has stood the test of time. The invading army had to cross the moat while arrows and debris rained down on their heads. They then had to climb a vertical wall while looking up into the eyes of their enemy. I would have given up and taken in the scenery. </div>
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Working your way through the high mountainous regions of northern Thailand is a full days work. It was a good thing soldiers were not paid by the hour.<br>
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Nestled in the quiet retreat of chanting and fragrant aromas my squad took a respite from the anxieties of war. Working the rubber plantations during the early Monsoon season we swept through the plantation being careful not to disturb any trees. It was a French owned boasting a European style house and motorcar resembling Gatsby on a much smaller scale. Out of place yet in place was this eclectic scene of plantation life, grass huts, and the war with a touch of suburban cowboys drenched from the rain.<br>
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After spending the day chasing the Vietcong through the rubber plantation we emerged to this bizarre scene of old world Europe. The main house, servants house, and barn were all beautifully preserved and untouched by the war. I took this picture crossing the plantation and getting ready to set up for the night.<br>
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We were told not to touch the rubber trees in any way or we would get a fine. The trees were the property of the French and not part of the war. If only the Vietcong understood semantics as well as we did then perhaps they wouldn't run into the plantations to hide. We bedded down for the night outside a small village.<br>
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When the temperature is 100 plus degrees and the Monsoons hit the temperature can drop 30 degrees in an instant. It was now 80 degrees we were shivering from the cold. Our blood was thin and our bodies were tired causing uncontrollable shakes as we tried to rest. The plantations are large and it was a long day playing peekaboo and hide and seek with the Vietcong. We hit sporadic gunfire throughout the day but nothing substantial. Out of nowhere a Buddhist Monk appeared slowly approaching us and speaking Vietnamese. Communication in either direction was nil so as a peace offering he offered us crackers and tea.<br>
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The next forty-eight hours were the most peaceful of my life. In the comfort of his temple-home we slept peacefully as soft chanting, almost lazy breeze-like sounds, lulled us to sleep. Perhaps it was the war or my boyish homesick innocence that influenced my lack of fear but I was drawn into a state of mind I still yearn for.<br>
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The meditative state of mind I was in has haunted me throughout my life and every once in awhile I catch a glimpse of it. The National Cathedral, Chaco Canyon, the Great Kiva of the Aztec Ruins, and even the Grand Canyon come close but none can compare to those rainy two days of isolation and peace. <br>
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Chaing Mai relentlessly grabs your attention as you stare in awe at the intricacies of northern Thai architecture. Buddhism, the primary religion, is more of a way of life than a sectarian belief. Intricate carved gables and colorful mosaics adorn the exteriors of almost everything. The Singha Lions are fierce creatures that guard the entrances of many temples but allow passage into a world of peace and tranquility. Towering pagodas, usually octagonal shaped, called Chedi rise over many of the Thai buildings.<br>
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Below are just a few examples of a confluence of cultures in a strategic area of Thailand during the Vietnam War. Relatively few American soldiers experienced the cultural diversity of Chaing Mai and it's treasures of Buddhist Temples.<br>
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Buddhist Monks walk freely amongst the guests, inviting<br>
and cordial, they remind me of a peaceful moment in time<br>
I had during the war. <br>
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Examples of Singha Lions and Chedi architecture<br>
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As any diverse culture would have it Chaing Mai boasts the first Presbyterian Church in this part of the world. Founded by the Laos Mission in 1867 it was a mission run by Rev. Daniel McGilvary and his wife<br>
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Chaing Mai's marketplace has whatever your looking for.<br>
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Tourism is a mainstay for Chaing Mai.<br>
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Old and new worlds come together in CHIANG Mai as Thailand's second largest city in the mountainous region of the north. Once a crossroad for traders it became the largest opium producer in Southeast Asia. Known as the Golden Triangle it's opium producing leaders gave back to the community most of the profits to build a community rich in culture. </div>
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Overlooking the city Buddhist temples teach young students a life of fasting and abstinence in a world full of temptations. Offerings are made to the monks daily by the people of Chiang Mai to maintain their life in a world surrounded by the sins of a modern world.</div>
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I was privileged to meditate with the students as the elderly monks chanted in a serene ceremony of offerings as they learn about their world. I sat in awe and watched the lighting of candles and the repeated bowing in unison. A string was tied around my wrist to signify my participation. The outer world dissipated in a quiet surreal atmosphere as I sat in a translike state of peace. Enlightened by the ceremony I left this mountaintop retreat in peace.</div>
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Selfie before entering the temple.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOV7DjYHKrvIPwx01xc9IzAgNdmJ4mcyX99PPpUXiRJ5v7Lk66IvFn45B66veevdiOoRFjI1Smn5G5F7Rl7f7UwQTSt-olKdrkASZPUpILiwTMezsAMhqIzBlkJUf7VoWsRhBqfy2o-i8/s640/blogger-image--2034001098.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOV7DjYHKrvIPwx01xc9IzAgNdmJ4mcyX99PPpUXiRJ5v7Lk66IvFn45B66veevdiOoRFjI1Smn5G5F7Rl7f7UwQTSt-olKdrkASZPUpILiwTMezsAMhqIzBlkJUf7VoWsRhBqfy2o-i8/s640/blogger-image--2034001098.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>The ornate workmanship is outstanding. When I was here last a lot of the buildings were in ruins.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9C_rmUlqSZdVdEgMtG6QSrCQzz5DH7VQK0mqytqpfRi__bLCAIIzUCUN_ejfL3C7N0oxnXBmAUuTinOWmpm0JfutJ7rm7NtBc-K-MKH7AjwBtd7PVy_GYncFy7iLkFibs5pIJDdc3M1Q/s640/blogger-image-1834754186.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9C_rmUlqSZdVdEgMtG6QSrCQzz5DH7VQK0mqytqpfRi__bLCAIIzUCUN_ejfL3C7N0oxnXBmAUuTinOWmpm0JfutJ7rm7NtBc-K-MKH7AjwBtd7PVy_GYncFy7iLkFibs5pIJDdc3M1Q/s640/blogger-image-1834754186.jpg"></a></div>Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-72791983994984514362014-10-01T04:43:00.001-07:002014-11-08T01:44:18.553-08:00PREFACE<br>
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The world was changing rapidly, almost on a daily basis, yet I was stuck in time. Not being able to go back and not ready to proceed I remained in limbo just trying to make some sense of my life. To much had happened in a short time and I was not equipped with the tools to deal with such change. I was not afforded the opportunity to detox, either physically or emotionally, so I floundered from job to job avoiding everyone I knew. Paranoid, guilty, and ashamed Of being a soldier I imploded to the edge of disaster. I carried so much guilt for leaving my friends behind that I refused to even see the very people that shared my fate and saved my life. I was useless as a man, a husband, and a father struggling with a life that had no purpose or direction.</div>
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Several years after my military experience I was married with two children and landed a job with the Long Island Railroad and welcomed the opportunity. It was my employment physical that sent me spiraling down yet another rabbit hole. I was informed by the railroad that my employment offer was withdrawn due to a foreign object found in my back. I was an insurance risk and they were not prepared to accept the responsibility. After seeing my own doctor it was confirmed that I had a bullet left in my back. The bullet was inoperable and actually lodged in a vertebrae just short of my spinal cord by a half inch physically threatening my mobility. Worse yet I thought the Army discharged me without informing me of my true condition. I was devastated and reverted back to my old ways of alcohol and drugs. My struggle wasn't over and seemed to increase with every passing day.</div>
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After rebounding from the railroad incident I progressed and tried to assimilate back into society. It had been an uphill battle all the way but I had a job and was expecting another child. My wife had insurance and we were both required by the carrier to secure genetic counseling. My physical revealed irregularities in my testing and further evaluation was necessary. Military records were requested and later confirmed that I had been contaminated with Agent Orange. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My area of operations in Vietnam was CORPS III along the Vietnam-Cambodian border and was the most contaminated area in all Southeast Asia. I was given a list of ailments and conditions I should be aware of and one immediately stuck out above all the rest. It was birth defects in children. I already had four children and was expecting a fifth. Of course it's almost impossible to prove but two of my children were born hearing impaired with auditory processing disorders. Again I spiraled knowing that my military career, the Vietnam experience, had followed me throughout my adult life. I couldn't shake it and I still had not yet acquired the tools or social skills to deal with my issues.</span></div>
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The Veterans Administration in the sixties and seventies was overwhelmed with stories like mine or even worse. Their diagnosis at the time was the same for all veterans and that was drugs. The VA administered more drugs to veterans than most countries have in their arsenal. Ups, downs, seconal, valium, sleeping pills, muscle relaxers, and even quaaludes until they were taken off the market. </div>
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Above and beyond the pharmaceuticals the VA gave us travel money to come in for appointments. A group of us would cram into a van, go to the VA, get drugs and money, and party for another month. This process would repeat itself each and every month for ten years. There was no real counseling or problem solving taking place at the VA just drugs. The Vietnam War ushered in a new era in the Veterans Administration and it was reflected in their treatment. Overwhelmed by sheer numbers alone the Vietnam Veteran was a new species of soldier with new problems they were not unequipped to deal with. The political climate at the time was also not conducive to this new veteran and his problems. In fact the Vietnam Veteran represented everything America hated at the time and that included the VA. I was on my own like everyone else, diagnosing and self medicating, with no end in site.</div>
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Artist, Frank Romeo<br>
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"WHY" , oil on canvass, 24"x36"<br>
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Accompanied by a story etched on glass.<br>
Property of National Veterans Art Museum <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Permanent Collection</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBiFAjNOB4c2bFReqE8EEP6cO02wi8ZPu-cWh4_nZbyGsBxW0RtMDbNSE6rapX4XEo910L2VowIv3NyOqk4ez0XiROm5e-Q5cHApdQgtC_A5A-wDgA8krWBEcNt8jVXMT2NXAfNz1IfFs/s640/blogger-image--1893323608.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBiFAjNOB4c2bFReqE8EEP6cO02wi8ZPu-cWh4_nZbyGsBxW0RtMDbNSE6rapX4XEo910L2VowIv3NyOqk4ez0XiROm5e-Q5cHApdQgtC_A5A-wDgA8krWBEcNt8jVXMT2NXAfNz1IfFs/s640/blogger-image--1893323608.jpg"></a></div>
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Twenty years had passed and the world was changing and that included both the VA and myself. What hadn't changed were the demons visiting me nightly and the guilt and trauma I carried each day. Like a functioning alcoholic I remained a functioning psychotic even without the drugs and alcohol I'd given up years earlier. I elevated my functioning level to a social acceptability by reverting back to my prior skills of survival and refused any medication that would dull my senses.</div>
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I was seeing a psychiatrist and I told him my story from beginning to end including the horrors of war as a teenager. I was diagnosed with <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and he explained it to me for the first time as plain as day. When an individual or a group of individuals are traumatized and they don't deal with it and push it into their subconscious it will eventually surface. It may take years or even decades but it will surface. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I thought for a moment and realized that according to that criteria the entire country had PTSD as related to Vietnam experience. America hah yet to deal with the Vietnam Veteran and his issues and in fact has done just the opposite by driving him underground. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It was at that precise moment that I realized I wasn't alone. There was an entire generation of men just like me and my feelings of isolation, loneliness, and being different were not just mine to own. These feelings belonged to a generation of men long ignored that society had turned its back on. It was as though I was struck by lightening and I experienced an epiphany of sorts as I began my new journey. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I stayed up for days reliving every experience I had from firefights to the day I got shot, from addiction to prison, from lost jobs to birth defects while continually crying uncontrollably. Each story was accompanied by a doodle until finally I realized what was happening. With every stroke of the pen the movement of my hands coincided with a thought and I was unconsciously, uncontrollably and without the benefit of formal training creating art. As if I were finger painting for the first time as a child the energy stored up in me for decades exploded onto my pallet.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I painted everyday but was unsure of my direction and I was concerned about the reaction from others so I hid my artwork away. A catharsis venue not meant for public viewing along with being conditioned over the years to suppress my feelings I was at a loss with my newly discovered revelation. Was I moving to fast? I felt as though I was learning to walk again and I needed to take baby steps so I hid my artwork away. I was not sure if I ever wanted it to see the light of day. Eventually, after its discovery, it was dubbed "Closet Art" for this very reason. The artwork of a generation of men ashamed and shunned for their involvement in one of the most unpopular times in American history was now surfacing all around the world. A twenty year cycle of trauma had come full circle as a generation generation of mean created a story through art. This was not just my story now this was my generations story to own and to understand. This was a story of healing and survival, this was our story of hope.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Realizing my work is not just art but a journal of American life and not just my personal diary but a story of a larger struggle it takes on historic importance. Knowing this importance I began collecting art from other veterans. I included their art together with my own as a presentation to others in a spirit of healing and learning. I thought that perhaps in my struggle I could help others in theirs and what took me thirty years to learn could perhaps save a life in today's world. At the very least I could possibly help another who is still yet to understand and struggling. Just to know its OK you're not alone sometimes is enough. It is with this spirit of hope I started THE ART OF WAR. My programs are a vehicle to help others young and old alike to step out of the shadows and into the light and reach understanding and hope. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">THE ART OF WAR program has been seen by thousands of students, </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">educators, and veterans in the past 20 years and continues to receive praise. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibV2dvXSxxAp6evXss7L4AHBvRhVvB8hlqyRUFZOO1eAo0GwlKBOB4wmB3luJNf8yP2tJpgm99CrHwvPHYL075_uwC-kpeRcqqUBe58KRWg4Kkg_tXihvfZyQRoYL9HEyZedR-bUHMssU/s640/blogger-image-1024164836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibV2dvXSxxAp6evXss7L4AHBvRhVvB8hlqyRUFZOO1eAo0GwlKBOB4wmB3luJNf8yP2tJpgm99CrHwvPHYL075_uwC-kpeRcqqUBe58KRWg4Kkg_tXihvfZyQRoYL9HEyZedR-bUHMssU/s640/blogger-image-1024164836.jpg"></span></a></div>
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To view my art collection click on: <a href="http://vietnamartwork.com/" target="_blank">Vietnamartwork.com</a></div>
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To view a lecture in progress click on </div>
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picture below <u>after you visit</u></div>
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<a href="http://vietnamartwork.com/" target="_blank">Vietnamartwork.com</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.vietnamartwork.com/news12.wmv" target="_blank"><img alt="Click Here To View" border="0" src="http://vietnamartwork.com/Resources/Home/TV%20Graphic.jpg" height="147" width="160"></a></div>
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One of my first presentations was at </div>
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Bay Shore High School, where it all began.</div>
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Press release via National Veterans Art Museum web site and Utube<br>
announcing a new art opening in Chicago,<i> "Tenacity and Truth", </i>2013<br>
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National Veterans Art Museum<br>
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"Frank Romeo, this weeks featured artist, served in the US Army in Vietnam.<br>
Romeo conducts lectures and seminars on the Vietnam experience and is<br>
involved with art therapy. His art is concerned with establishing an emotional<br>
connection to the viewer and starting a dialogue about the realities of<br>
Vietnam. This conversation is powerfully apparent in "WHY", now on display in our Tenacity and Truth exhibit. Devastatingly human and immediate, this piece drives home the pain, confusion and profound dignity of a generation shaped by war."<br>
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CLICK TO VIEW ART INTERVIEW: <a href="http://youtu.be/5ZjvKKt6XxU" target="_blank">http://youtu.be/5ZjvKKt6XxU </a></div>
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After it's discovery my work received local acclaim as "Closet Art", a veteran breaking the psychological chains of war. Chanel 12 aired a mini special called "Making A Difference" promoting my work. As the program snowballed it took on a life of its own as I received national attention. Featuring my art in a national exhibit and later on tour around the country I received numerous accolades from the New York City mayor's office and the Congress of United States. Internationally I was honored by the Australian government for work with their veterans. </div>
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To date I continue to showcase art and lecture to students and educators featuring a first hand experience. The artwork speaks for itself but coupled with a story it illuminates a show-and-tell journey through war and the human experience. The struggle with trauma coincides with everyday life and everyday situations. I answer questions forthright with honesty and candor yet I fall short of closure and an end to the story if there is one. I seek to bring more to the table than just rhetoric and so I am going back to recapture an experience that shaped my life. To help others by helping myself I will share my journey on an interactive Blog. This is extreme group therapy for my generation and probably the largest session ever held. To the best off my knowledge this has never been done before live on a daily basis. This will be the war experience in real time then and now through my own traumatized viewpoint searching for answers.<br>
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183740518449041712.post-84758451026830261902014-09-20T10:05:00.000-07:002014-11-08T01:45:19.170-08:00LAOS<div><br></div>
Laos finds itself in the most unusual situation of being surrounded by almost everyone in Southeast Asia. China, Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, and Myanmar (Burma) border this small country thus leaving it strategically and culturally vital to the region. Inhabited by rice cultivators in the lower lying areas and dozens of tribes in the higher elevations it has a diverse population. Largely Buddhists in the towns the highlanders divide their lineage amongst the surrounding countries and are mainly animists.<br>
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Signing the protectorate agreement in Hue City Vietnam in 1884 the French took control of all territory on the western bank of the Mekong River. Over the next 75 years France would slowly relinquish control of Laos to the emperor in Vientiane. In 1947, the king of Luang Prabang, unified the country and became king of Laos.<br>
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By 1957 factions opposing the U.S. backed royal government began uprising causing the U.S. aid money to be diverted to a clandestine military aid mission. By 1960 the military staged a coup and a new government was established. Rifts continued throughout the government until 1960 when U.S. supplied forces attacked Vientiane against leftist opposition armed with munitions flown in by Soviet aircraft from Hanoi. Russian aircraft continued to drop supplies as the Leftists captured The Plain of Jars. The U.S. adamantly protested the entrance of the Soviet Union in Laotian affairs. In 1961 to further complicate the issues North Vietnamese troops openly fight on the side of the leftists as a Communist backed Hanoi enters the dispute. As the Cold War escalates this action becomes the beginning of the longest running war in American history, the war in Southeast Asia.<br>
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As the conflict escalates a U.S. backed Royal Government continues to receive aid. Money and munitions flow into Laos as the Rightist backed Royal Government controls the west side of the Mekong River. East belongs to the leftist,backed by a Communist Hanoi, it sends troops and supplies over the rugged Truong Son Mountain Range. Communist troops were sent to build staging areas, depots, and command posts along an ancient system of footpaths and roads. As time goes by the Communists trying to widen their grip begin infiltrating south towards Vietnam. To accommodate the influx of ever increasing troops and supplies the trails segments were widened as bicycles were introduced to carry needed equipment. By reinforcing the frames these bicycles could carry loads between 220 and 330 pounds and on occasions much more. At times it appeared to resemble an army of ants working silently and diligently focused on a mission. </div>
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Hanoi continued to expand the trail and by 1962 had 5,000 troops working on it. The road now stretched 600 miles south through Laos approaching Cambodia. Nearly totally hidden from arial observation the bicycles dropped off supplies as trucks took over. This was the beginning of what would become the infamous and highly fought over Ho Chi Minh Trail.</div>
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Rightist Laotian fighters, loyal to the U.S. backed Royal Government, are armed with American made M-16 rifles.<br>
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Reinforced bicycles loaded with supplies make their way into Laos from Hanoi. As the Monsoons flood the trails these diligent leftist troops continue undaunted. Hanoi's supplies continued heading south until the end of the war.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkLwbZ4M6AODzStW1fAVuMugEC-2-aRY_nkRNoj451R_JsI3Gz3x-Gx-ePZeBh2033iok-T_pTmDZ-Lk3c1DgXkGoccVNroLG_TIvT81EgqHOlemUfNA5GNdjLr5z1Rp2njpeOWpN8VU/s640/blogger-image--1575265457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkLwbZ4M6AODzStW1fAVuMugEC-2-aRY_nkRNoj451R_JsI3Gz3x-Gx-ePZeBh2033iok-T_pTmDZ-Lk3c1DgXkGoccVNroLG_TIvT81EgqHOlemUfNA5GNdjLr5z1Rp2njpeOWpN8VU/s640/blogger-image--1575265457.jpg"></a></div>
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Clearly visible these weapons are being transported by bicycle making this the beginning of a covert guirrilla style war.<br>
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Leaving southern Thailand for the north and the Laotian border I travelled by rail out of Bangkok on an overnight sleeper express. Before it headed west into Myanmar (Burma) I travelled for a time on the infamous Death Railway. </div>
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The Death Railway was a 415 mile long railway built by the Japanese during the ocupation of Southeast Asia to support its forces in the Burma Campaign of WWII. Originally called the Burma-Siam Railway it originates in Bangkok and heads northwest into the mountainous jungles of northern Thailand. </div>
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In 1942 Japanese forces invaded Burma from Thailand and seized the colony from British control. To maintain forces in Burma they needed supplies and troops brought in from seaports which were vulnerable to attack by Allied submarines. The obvious alternate senario was over land by railway which they started in June 1942. The most famous portion of the railway is Bridge 277. Bridge 277, better known as the bridge over the River Kwai, was immortalized by Pierre Boulle in the book and later the movie "The Bridge On the River Kwai". </div>
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The Japanese used the forced labor of 180,000 Asian civilians and 60,000 Allied POW's (prisoners of war) to complete the task. Of these forced laborers about 90,000 Asians and 12,399 Allied POW's died as a direct result of the project. The dead POW's included 6,318 British, 2,815 Australians, 2,490 Dutch, and 356 Americans. During the construction of Hellfire Pass, the most difficult and dangerous section of terrain, sixty-nine men were beaten to death by Japanese guards in the twelve weeks it took to navigate the pass. Most recently the movie "Railway Man" depicts life in the camps and the return of one former British POW and his lifelong struggle to deal with the aftermath of war. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Trying to understand where the story line was going I watched "Railway Man" with my historical interests peaked as it relates to the subject of war. When the main character and I both realized we were going back for the same reason I was unnerved by his actions. I watched the movie unfold before me on the big screen in a ninety minute abridged version of my life as I related to every emotion in real time.<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> Unsure about the outcome of his actions my insides tightened with feelings I thought I had already worked through. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Perhaps we shared the same demons as if there were not enough to go around. He is not only plagued by his thoughts of the camps but also by the thoughts of an entire group of survival comrades that share the same watering hole daily. Drinking themselves numb and talking about every subject imaginable except the war they each flinch when the sound of a train is heard. When news of a museum bearing the remains of his very cell and run by his captor he represents the group and returns to confront his fears. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>
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Frank Romeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07969936187319205225noreply@blogger.com0