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FACTS ARE SUPPOSED to be solid and indisputable truths not
subject to dispute. Facts are hard, fast and cold which no amount
of emotional or irrational analysis can manipulate into being
untrue, even though some will attempt it. The Facts of Vietnam
are:
These are the cold bare facts. But the parable or meaning of
Vietnam isn't told by statistics, it lives in those who served.
The moral of the story has to do with the young men and women who
chose to serve a country which turned its back on them. Myth says
that those who obeyed the call of duty later became alcoholics
and drug addicts in disproportionate numbers; or that they became
convicts and unproductive suicidal losers. Others, so the myth
goes, are homeless, living on the streets of big cities or holed
up in the mountains of Idaho.
The facts indicate otherwise. Most vets lead productive and
exemplary lives. Most have jobs and families and pay taxes. The
beloved statistics and reputable studies of the number crunchers
say this is so.
But what is really important in this day and age is that each
man or woman who served has a unique story. Modern parables are
being chronicled so that generations of young people may learn
and be proud of their American heritage.
A Parable: The Tunnel
The following story is true as told by my friend, Lt. Colonel
(ret) Robert Keller of events which took place when he was a
young Second Lieutenant with a Special Forces A Team in Vietnam:
I was with the 5th Special Forces Operations group located in
north-central Vietnam between Kham Duc and Chu Lai. I was in
charge of a contingent of Vietnamese soldiers called the
Strikers. For 16 months I lived in their village eating and
drinking with them.
The company had consolidated its position around the hooch of
two Vietnamese women. These ladies had been interred many times
in the Chu Lai relocation project but always managed to run away.
They claimed they farmed forty hectares in the Phouc Chou Valley.
What made the story doubtful was that one had one leg and the
other one arm, making subsistence farming very difficult. The
valley was the breadbasket of the 2nd NVA Division (North
Vietnamese Army) and rice fields were everywhere.
Several of my CIDG (Civilian Irregular Defense Group) came to
me to show the tunnel they found. The hole was about three feet
in diameter. None of us had tunneling experience as no tunnels
were supposed to be in our area of operations.
I could have sent one of the Vietnamese down the hole but
there are certain times one has to be a leader and this was one
of them.
I checked the sides and bottom for possible booby traps and
decided I could at least get into the five foot deep entrance
way. Whether I might get my feet shot out from under me was a
different matter. I lowered myself down
The hole - scared spit-less. However, at least no one
shot at me.
I clicked the selector of my CAR-15 to full auto and knelt
down to begin the tunnel search. It seemed that the darkness in
the tunnel sucked up the flashlight beam within several feet. I
began to crawl forward into extreme darkness thinking of snakes,
animals and the possibility I would stay down there forever. It
was tomb-like and hopefully would not become mine. It was so
quiet I thought I could hear an air compressor running and then
realized it was my breathing.
I kept crawling forward, checking the tunnel floor for booby
traps and critters. I found several small rooms or chambers off
to the side of the main tunnel but no side tunnels. The more I
crawled forward the more confident I became.
I was down in the tunnel for about thirty minutes taking my
time and being thorough. Up ahead, I saw a light shining down
from overhead. I was thrilled my ordeal was coming to an end - or
was it? If I stuck my head out would someone blow it off. Where
was I? In front of our position or within it?
When I got to the tunnel entrance I waved my hands and started
yelling but nothing happened. I felt nothing but relief as I
pulled myself up out of the hole and no one fired at me.
I still didn't know where I was but finally determined that I
had gone in a horseshoe and wasn't too far from where I had
started. I looked over to the entrance hole and noticed a number
of CIDG yelling excitedly down the abyss.
What an opportunity!
I came up behind them and then moved to the front of the group
and began to yell down the hole too. It took about 30 seconds for
the Strikers to realize what was happening and they all started
laughing too. Pointing at me they thought the incident was great
fun.
I don't know what happened to them after I left.
A Moral to the Story:
Firefights, mortar rounds, the stench of decay and human flesh
torn and broken, the camaraderie and bonds of men at war were
part and parcel of the Major's experience. But some things one
remembers more than others. The stories which make fear a
laughing matter are often remembered because that is the only way
to cope.
But the thing Major Bob remembers most, the thing he carries
with him forever are the Vietnamese he left behind - the ones who
counted on an American promise that they would never be left to
themselves. That is what he remembers most - a broken promise to
his comrades.
Well, Bob Keller and others like him never broke any promises.
Our government in its arrogance and foolish miscalculation did.
Perhaps they were promises which should never have been made.
Perhaps it would be wise to be careful in the future about the
ones we do make because when we don't keep them - we betray men
like Lt. Colonel Robert Keller.
Diane Alden is a research
analyst, writer, historian and political economist. She writes a column for
NewsMax.com, Etherzone, Enterstageright, American Partisan,
KeepAndBearArms.com and many other online publications. She also does
occasional radio commentaries for Georgia
Radio Inc. Reach her at wulfric8@yahoo.com. |
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