The veterans of Vietnam were never to blame for the failures of Washington.
The veterans of Vietnam were never to blame for the failures of Washington.
T here is no American war where the politicians failed as much as in Vietnam. It turns out that trying to run a war from the situation room in the White House is just as bad as trying to run a vast nation from Washington. Yet, the veterans of that conflict are just as heroic as those of the Greatest Generation. Just study the men who fought and bled at places like Huế, Khe Sanh, the Ia Drang Valley, or the aviators who overcame years of horrific physical and mental torture in the “Hanoi Hilton.”
Vietnam might be the war that left the most indelible impressions, in part because of the live TV news coverage and the memorable movies that followed, with the whoosh-whoosh of Huey rotor blades, napalm, and the crackling of rifles and radios after long periods of silence. Like most of my generation, I was introduced to Vietnam through movies such as Platoon and the television shows Tour of Duty and China Beach.
Still, I had far more meaningful experiences of a war in which America’s involvement ended before I was born. When I lived at Hickam Air Force Base in Hawaii, occasionally I’d see the blue government car pull into the body-identification center, where the remains of missing servicemen from Vietnam are still being processed to this day. Once or twice, I stopped and got off my bike, putting my hand on my heart as I saw a handheld box carried inside. That scene made an impact on me at a young age.
A little over a decade later, I was working for Congressman Gene Taylor in Mississippi, and I noticed a thick folder in a filing cabinet labeled “J. C. Wheat.” I read through every page before asking permission. J. C. Wheat is the father of Roy Mitchell Wheat. Taylor was working to get a ship named after Wheat’s son. Roy Wheat, a Marine and Congressional Medal of Honor recipient, died in Vietnam when he jumped on an antipersonnel mine to save members of his squad. Wheat’s youngest brother said that when the casket was opened, there were shoes inside, but Roy’s pant legs were neatly rolled all the way up. We should never forget the high cost of war. The USS Roy Wheat was commissioned in 2003.
But you don’t have to look at graves to see the scars and sacrifice of our Vietnam veterans. Nearly 3 million Americans served in Vietnam. Fewer than a million are still alive today. While nobody knows the exact number, it’s possible that more Vietnam veterans eventually committed suicide than were killed in combat. However, the narrative of the unhinged or unstable Vietnam veteran is still wildly exaggerated.
Most veterans returned from their tours and became highly productive members of society. Fred W. Smith, the founder and chairman of FedEx, Pat Sajak of Wheel of Fortune fame, and former U.S. secretary of state Colin Powell are just a few notable Vietnam veterans.
Vietnam vets have produced some of the greatest war literature of all time. It makes sense for many reasons, but one truth stands out. During the era when young men were sent to Vietnam, it was the most educated American military force ever deployed to war. Loon, We Were Soldiers Once . . . and Young, and When Hell Was in Session are just a sampling of the great Vietnam War memoirs.
Many veterans volunteered, and some were drafted, but every Vietnam veteran I know loves this country and is humble while proud of their service. Many of the best lessons I’ve learned in life are not from slickly marketed self-help books but from a rifle-platoon leader or the men who flew combat missions over North Vietnam. One Vietnam vet recently told me, “All leadership worth anything is learning how to be selfless. The rest is just BS.”
Over 58,000 names are listed on Maya Lin’s masterpiece of a memorial in Washington, D.C. Initially highly controversial for its somber look, dark color, and design by an Asian artist, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial opened in 1982. Today, it’s likely the most striking monument to healing and sacrifice in the world.
Veterans and family members sometimes leave objects at the Wall. One of the most heartbreaking stories I ever read is about a mother who made a journey to the Wall to leave her son’s favorite teddy bear, but in the end, she told her son in a letter that she “just couldn’t part with it,” leaving his first baby sweater instead. It’s another reminder of the unbelievably high cost of war.
The Vietnam War has taught us endless lessons that we still do not heed. In many ways that era is the high tide of government arrogance, when President Lyndon B. Johnson and many in Congress thought they could provide centralized solutions to poverty and other problems while micromanaging a complex and costly war from Washington. “Guns and butter,” they call it. Yet the veterans of Vietnam were never to blame for the failures of Washington. Instead, after I’d learned the stories of sacrifice and their place in history, it became apparent to me that so many are the real heroes living among us. I’m glad they are finally receiving some of the recognition they earned long ago.