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| ISBN-13: | 9781524614782 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 09/13/2016 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 122 |
| File size: | 15 MB |
| Note: | This product may take a few minutes to download. |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Reflections of a Soldier
By Ken Blades
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2016 Ken BladesAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5246-1477-5
CHAPTER 1
Leaving the World
The post-World War II era was a period of healing and regeneration for America. It was a time that all wanted to forget the physical and emotional turmoil that had almost destroyed our country. There were very few American citizens whose lives were not touched by that great war and it was thought to be a conflict that would end all wars. In the years that followed, America had settled into a somewhat peaceful existence except for the Korean conflict which had ended in 1953. It had lasted only two years and it began and ended so quickly that it was termed, "the forgotten war," but it was not forgotten by those who fought it.
It was now the 1960s and older generations who had experienced the heartache of WWII and Korea had their own reasons for rejecting any idea of another such confrontation. Now that Vietnam had presented itself as a hot bed of conflict very few Americans were encouraged even to acknowledge it. It was a threat to the peace they had enjoyed for most of the last 20 years. The average citizen had prospered over those past two generations and for them, life was good. They wanted nothing more than to see their children grow into adult hood without the threat of having them march off to a foreign country and possibly never return, and rightfully so.
Peace time however breeds complacency and blinds human beings to the fact that the security of any country, even our own, is never free from threat. Little more than 25 years earlier when Hitler began his terror on Europe, American citizens at that time also had no interest in intervening. What possible impact could a paperhanger in Germany have on the world?
Even as Hitler began to march across Europe and killed thousands who stood in his way, America wanted no part of it. Germany had already killed hundreds of thousands of Russia's military forces and was aggressively pursuing a siege of Europe and Great Britain, and also North Africa. Even so, Americans were not moved to action. When Pearl Harbor was bombed by the Japanese the United States was then dealt the same blow that Europe had been enduring for several years. America's eyes were opened on that infamous day on December 7, 1941, when 2400 Americans were brutally killed and the back of the United States Navy was very nearly broken. U.S. citizens then realized that intervention was unavoidable. It was no longer out of sight out of mind and most all knew that it must be dealt with. Thus began WWII and American casualties reached over two million during a span of less than five years. The numbers of dead from all countries who were touched by WWII reached over 70 million.
Men and women volunteered in that war to protect their families from world aggression and to protect the very soil on which they were born but the struggle in Vietnam did not dictate such a noble cause. Conflicting stories from politicians and the news media created doubt in the minds of the American public.
Most concluded that what was happening in Indo-China was not important to the American way of life and that we should not be involved.
By 1965 however, our government had slowly been drawn into the conflict and the mounting death toll had risen to such magnitude that it could no longer be ignored. The average age of American casualties in Vietnam was barely 21 years and boys were dying who could not legally drink. As the war escalated they would be dying at the rate of fifty per day on a foreign soil no bigger than the state of Missouri. Families who had sons were becoming fearful and anxious. By 1968 the death toll had reached over 30,000 American casualties not to mention the vast numbers of wounded and amputees.
The socialist hippy culture that had arrived in America in the late 1950s and early 60s was the voice of rebellion. Protesting ran ramped in major cities. The draft was unpopular as well and the slogan, "make love, not war," was the immature if not ignorant rational by which they stood.
Comprehension of how America had become the greatest nation in the world had by passed many of the last two generations and to them the history of America's place in the twentieth century was not important. Protestors were in denial to the fact that history repeats its' self. To them the threat of communism was merely propaganda spread by war mongers. Communism had been held in check in Korea during that two-year war, but those who protested the Vietnam conflict apparently had never studied world history nor did they care to. They were allowed the freedom of speech and expression but few understood what price had been paid in previous wars to allow them that freedom. Their goal was to live in the moment and their misguided fantasy about tomorrow very simply stated, was that it would take care of itself. Humans seem to find rationalization in anything that fits their own purpose at any given time. The anti-war movement seemed to fit the agenda for thousands especially if they were male, 18 years old or older, and did not want to serve in the military. Politicians also used the war to promote their own agendas.
The war in Vietnam however was not without merit. In the years previous to our involvement there, hundreds of thousands of lives were being threatened. The communist regime had the support of the Soviet Union and Red China. Cambodia had already suffered great loses and over 2 million of their working class would be killed by the end of the Vietnam era. The threat of communism in the early 50s caused great concern from government leaders who experienced WWII and Korea and felt we had no choice but to make a stance. Unfortunately, history has always shown that no one is untouchable from world aggression no matter how many miles away the seeds of that insurgency might be growing. American citizens had no idea that leaders of the communist doctrine were willing to kill anyone who stood in their way. If South Vietnam fell to the communist, all of Indo-China including Cambodia, Thailand, Laos, and Malaysia would be doomed as well. Even though the bombing of Northern targets was a much better strategy in winning the war, thousands of civilians would be in danger. This gave even more support to the protesting. War is a bitter pill to swallow and human beings never want to face the fact that it takes killing to stop the killing, but that is generally the way most wars are ended.
During WWII President Truman dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima killing at least 140,000 Japanese civilians but it ended the war and saved millions of lives. At this time in 1968 however, that strategy was not acceptable to those who stood against this so called police action. American military forces had begun a successful air offensive against northern targets but President Johnson surrendered to congressional and civilian advisors and ceased the bombing in October, 1968. Because of this unwise and un-thought out strategy, over 28000 more American soldiers and hundreds of thousands of civilians in all of Indo-China would die.
In 1968 however the final chapter of the Vietnam drama was yet to be played out. My involvement at that time was unimaginable as it was for hundreds of thousands of other men my age. I was 23 years old and a college graduate hopefully waiting for a change in my draft status so I could begin a real life. Unaware of what was about to consume my very being for the next two years I was oblivious to the world around me and was a prime example of the phrase, "ignorance is bliss."
The Vietnam conflict reached its peak in January of that year with a major communist offensive from the north of Vietnam all the way to Saigon. By this date thousands of Americans had lost family members in Vietnam and if they hadn't they at least knew someone who had. Still, I was no different from many others in that my only concern was that this war had caused me major inconvenience. Other than joining the Hippie culture and being a draft dodger, I had very few options other than to join some branch of the military. I would be among hundreds of thousands in the armed forces who would be leaving home and going where we didn't want to go. Having been raised not to challenge authority I was now challenged to survive it.
I had been living at home with my parents since January when I had finished enough college hours for my degree. No one would hire a man who had a 1-A draft status so in October, 1968 I volunteered for the military draft. No, I wasn't brave or stupid. Well, at least not brave. I did this mainly because I would only be required to serve two-years active duty. This was the ignorant and ill-advised goal of many who had no concept of what lay in their future.
Exactly one year later, October 2, 1969 I was boarding a plane in Ft. Lewis Washington and leaving civilization as I had known it my entire life. I was now a Sergeant, typically known as, "Buck Sergeant." Was I any smarter being a Sergeant? I doubted it. I had become a product of a year of infantry training including twelve weeks in Non -Commission Officers School at Fort Benning Ga. which was internationally known as, "The War college." Infantry leaders from many countries all over the world had come there for training.
I had fallen into the establishment by accident but mostly because of my own ignorance and would ponder the irony of this for months to come. On many occasions I would ask myself, why didn't I join the Navy or Air Force? The statistics for a longer life in those two branches were much better than in the Army or Marine Corp. That alone should have been enough for me to join either. My logical but stupid reasoning had lead me to believe that I really wouldn't be placed in the infantry if I volunteered for the Army draft. After all, I was a college graduate. How stupid was I? That's exactly what the Army was looking for but couldn't get enough of. Seeking to avoid a long obligation to the military I merely jumped from the boiling pot into the frying pan.
I was willing to take the chance that I could handle what was handed me for those two years but was to realize later that as a draftee, volunteer or not, I would be one of thousands who would be placed in harm's way without choice of occupation. That meant combat. The act of volunteering for the draft had no relevance or at least not to the Army. The rank of Sergeant meant little more than a bigger pay check and my attitude or my motives weren't exactly the most patriotic.
As the plane left the ground at the Sea-Tac airport I wondered if I would ever see Missouri again or the farm where I was born. No soldier ever went to war without the heart ache of leaving someone behind. A wife and child, parents, girl friends or best friends. It was never easy. Memories of my life from when I was 6 years old to my college days were rattling in my head like marbles in a jar, but only a few came to mind as being important to me now. It seems that when you're faced with the unknown and possibly what could be the end of your life, you realize that only a few encounters or friends ever really mattered.
After a full year of training I was now 24 years old and the last few days before leaving for Vietnam I spent at home with my Parents. My Mother and I talked about everything from things that happened to me when I was a small child to girls with whom I had been involved. I had stupidly chosen to end a marriage to a beautiful woman just 18 months before, and my Mother knew I had major regrets about that even though I never voiced it openly. I would think about it often over the next few months and in later years of my life. I had handled the relationship stupidly and immaturely. Had there been any way possible to reverse my unconscionable actions I would have done so. It was too late now. Most men have regrets from unforgivable deeds in their lives and wish that they could reverse them. That's especially true of men going into combat. The immature actions of my past had solely lead me to this place in my life and I would have to deal with it the best I could.
Those few days that I was home my Mother must have asked me a hundred questions. Why she wanted to know what was on my mind I don't know. Curiosity I guess but that's what Mothers do. She wanted to know how I felt about going to war and my feeling about God. I think my Mom was preparing herself for a conversation we would have the day I was to leave. This scenario was one which played out in thousands of homes all over America during this war and in past wars. I was not alone in that regard.
She and my Father never missed a news cast and reports about the number of men killed in Vietnam each day was dominating the airways. I didn't realize at the time what an emotional strain that these days must have had on both of them. It would only become evident in later months and years of my life. Little did I realize that my regrets were their regrets as is the case with most parents. Other than the soldiers themselves, Mothers and Fathers always pay the biggest price in times of war.
This leave time also gave me cause to think about my transition during the last year. My army training had made me what I never wanted to be. A thoughtless programmed robot trained to do what I was told without questioning whether or not it was right or wrong. I had been indoctrinated to act and react as a soldier. More descriptively, a combat soldier.
My eyes had not been opened yet as to what lay ahead. At that time my only concern was me. My involvement was not of my choosing but the alternative was to go to jail since dodging the draft was a felony so here I was like it or not. I had fallen into the Army mold but believe me, I was still just looking for the quick way out. I just didn't want it to be in a body bag so the extra training I had with the Rangers at the NCO academy couldn't hurt.
The training instructors at the academy were all Rangers. They made you feel that if you lived through the training you could live through anything. The attitude was good but I had my doubts. No amount of training could stop a bullet with your name on it. During the training period I would hear men make light about the possibility of getting shot. We always joked that we weren't worried about the bullet with our name on it but the one that said, "to whom it may concern." At this time, it was a little premature to think of such things but no soldier ever went to war without thinking about whether or not he would survive.
As our plane continued its' assent from the airport my stomach was filled with a sense of nausea and anxiety. The reality of what was happening had finally hit me. The quiet that filled the airplane cabin could only be matched by what it must be like inside a grave. No one was talking. We were leaving the world.
Percentages were something all soldiers had learned to be concerned with and I couldn't help but ask myself how many of these men would not be on a returning flight still alive, and would I be one of them? The look in all of our eyes as we stared at each other told each one exactly what was on the others mind. Is this real? Is this really happening?
Most of us had grown up with John Wayne WWII movies and this was something we watched happen on the movie screen but now we were the actors for real. In ROTC classes I had watched movies about D Day and the American assault on the beaches of France. I remembered vividly the expression on those men's faces and could see the fear of the unknown branded in their eyes. I now understood that fear, and it was for real, not a movie. The Army had finally shown this Missouri farm boy college graduate or not, just what they had in store for me. They were giving me a warm welcome to sunny Vietnam and a present of an M-16 rifle.
As we continued to fly and get further and further away from the land where I was raised I could think of nothing but home. It was a place that I had seriously taken for granted for the past few years since high school. I thought of the look in my Fathers eyes when he took me to the airport four days before. He had walked me to the boarding gate after we had arrived at the airport. A tear came into his eye when he shook my hand for what he thought could be the last time. Neither of us had talked about it up until that moment.
"Take care of yourself son," he said in a stern but crackling voice. "I wish I could go in your place."
I knew he meant it and neither of us spoke another word after that. My Dad was a man of few words, but he rarely said anything he didn't mean. He slowly turned and walked through the airport terminal not looking back. I watched for as long as I could still see him in the crowd for I realized I might never see him again either. My Father and I had not been close since I was a small child and that tear told me something I had needed to know for a long time. I think that he needed to tell me something too and that was his way. As I think about that time after these many years, I now realize that my Dad was fighting his emotions for his benefit and for mine.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Reflections of a Soldier by Ken Blades. Copyright © 2016 Ken Blades. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents
Contents
About the Author, vi,Acknowledgements, vii,
Dedication, ix,
Introduction, x,
Chapter 1 Leaving the World, 1,
Chapter 2 Hello Vietnam, 7,
Chapter 3 First shot, 20,
Chapter 4 First Kill, 27,
Chapter 5 Friendly Fire, 33,
Chapter 6 Casualties of War, 41,
Chapter 7 A Grunts Christmas (1969), 56,
Chapter 8 The Unforgiven, 62,
Chapter 9 The Battle of Hill 285, 67,
Chapter 10 Daily Turmoil, 80,
Chapter 11 The Darkest of Days, 87,
Chapter 12 Requiem for a Country, 100,