Recognition Delayed for Many Vietnam Vets

Unofficial Self-Designed Insignia

by Frank Fox

Most military veterans were aware of covert activities of special units of American military, but they never knew the details.

These special units were chosen because of special skills and abilities.

Many veterans of the aggression in South Vietnam (really Laos and Cambodia as well) were servicemen from various U.S. Forces. They unofficially belonged to a group designated MACV-SOG (Military Assistance Command Vietnam-Studies and Observation Group). 

Because we had a Hanoi agreement, we were not supposed to venture into the countries on Vietnam's Western border. The area was sanctuary for PAVN (People’s Army of Vietnam) and NVA (North Vietnamese Army).

It was necessary to keep tabs on the movements of the enemy, and at times bring the wrath of hell deservedly upon them.

The many brave troops could not be recognized, until years after the war, and the truth be known about KIA’s, MIA’s, and WIA’s. Twenty three Veterans had to wait until 2001 to receive the DSC (Distinguished Service Cross, the nation’s second highest award).

Because the details were classified, many families only received generic reports on their KIA’s and MIA’s. Most soldiers were instructed and sworn to secrecy.

Many of these soldiers had special skill sets. Please use the link to see another facet of Vietnam that was ongoing for years, before the start of aggression, until the U.S. pulled out.

Sometimes we forget all those who covertly did tasks and assignments, and lost their lives, to keep American forces as safe as they could.

To the difference they and their comrades made ... hand salute ... two.

Military Assistance Command, Vietnam - Studies and Observations Group

Frank Fox

Combat Medic
Sea/Air Rescue
US Navy with USMC
August 1964 – August 1970 (6 years 1 month)

More Articles by Frank Fox:

Old School Patriotism is Still Alive
Veterans Sharing Recipes
The White House Christmas Card
War: Some Are Better Prepared
Our Generation
The Marine and the Cure
More Thoughts on War and Youth
Opinions, Thoughts and Feelings
A Different PerspectiveA Worthy Rebuttal to Mr. Garrison

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


Feel free to comment on this post. You are also invited to write about anything you are comfortable with sharing. Memoirs From Nam is YOUR blog. You are writing America's history.

Vietnam Vet Recipes: Eggplant Lasagna

Eggplant Lasagna

by Frank Fox

This is a great dish and made without pasta (those pesky carbs). 

Eggplant is also known as Aubergine, Melongene, Garden Egg, or Guinea Squash.

Go to your market, or grocery, and select two medium-sized eggplants that are smooth to the touch and firm, under a little pressure. 

Also while you're at the grocery make sure you pick up the following ingredients:

What You Will Need:

· Eggplant (2 medium)

· A blister pack of your favorite mushrooms

· Bell Pepper of choice (I like red)

· Jar of minced garlic (or you can cut up your own)

· A sweet yellow onion

· A jar of your choice of seasoned red pasta sauce (I use garlic/basil).  You know, the stuff like Prego.

· Box of yellow corn meal

· Package of shredded Italian cheese, or whatever cheese suits you

· Oil for frying.  I use peanut oil.  It delivers taste and can take the heat (it's best for fish and oysters, too).  Or you can use whatever oil you prefer.

Get home and start cutting things up ...

· Peel the eggplants and trim ends off of both eggplants. Using a large knife, cut each eggplant into ¼ inch thick slices lengthwise.

· Do a coarse dice on half of the onion, also about half of the red bell pepper (again, you can use whatever kind of pepper you prefer).

· Trim off the dry stem parts of five medium-sized mushrooms and then slice the mushroom heads crosswise into about ¼ inch pieces.

Mix together well, about 1-1/2 cups of milk and one large egg to dip the eggplant in.

Dry Ingredients for Coating the Eggplant Slices:

In a large zip lock bag, pour in about half of the box of corn meal.

  

Add about 1 teaspoon of black pepper and any other dry spices, such as salt, basil, oregano, etc., whatever you like is fine. 

If you are a garlic person, add some garlic powder. 

Optional:  add about 1/2 cup of seasoned bread crumbs. 

Zip bag up and shake well.

Step-by-Step Preparation:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Lightly spray a casserole dish (mine is 12 inches x 7 ½ inches) with a product like PAM on the bottom (not yours, the dish). 

Dip each piece of eggplant into the milk and egg mixture.  

Place each piece, one at a time, into the dry mixture in the zip lock bag and shake until the slice is completely covered. 

Place the coated piece of eggplant on a plate, then finish coating the rest of the pieces the same way.

Using a large skillet, pour enough oil into the skillet to just about cover each piece.

When oil is hot enough, (Test it by putting a small piece in.  It should sizzle nicely). Depending on how large each piece is, just fry all of the slices until they're rigid, with a nice browned appearance.  (It goes pretty quick). 

Take each piece out, holding it over the skillet to drain off the excess oil.  Then place it on a double layer of paper towels. 

In another skillet, put your chopped up vegetables, dry (no oil).  After frying the eggplant slices, pour a little of the hot oil from that frying pan into the vegetables over the heat and stir until the vegetables soften. When they're done (not burnt), turn the heat off.

Take a jar of your choice of red pasta sauce and pour some in the bottom of the Pam-sprayed casserole dish and spread it around to coat the dish. 

Now start layering.  First, the fried eggplant slices go in the casserole. It won’t be a perfect fit, but it will be fine. 

Sprinkle some of your shredded cheese on the eggplant layer. 

Then spread some of your vegetables over the cheese layer. 

Then start the layering again in the same order.  Lay the rest of eggplant slices over the previous vegetable layer, then the cheese, followed by the vegetables.  This should be enough. Of course, if you use a larger dish, it will require more of everything. 

Pour the remainder of the red pasta sauce over the top, and spread it evenly.  Then sprinkle more cheese over the top of the red pasta sauce.

The oven should already be preheated by now.  Put the casserole into the oven and let it bake for about 30 minutes. 

You can sprinkle more cheese over the top just before removing it from oven. 

When it's done baking, take it out and let it rest for a couple of minutes, then serve.

Sometimes I will slice up a skinless, boneless chicken breast into ¼ inch pieces, soak in milk, and dip each piece in same corn meal in zip lock, then fry in the Peanut oil, pretty quick. Is optional, but one may want some meat with it.

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


Feel free to comment on this post. You are also invited to write about anything you feel comfortable sharing. Memoirs From Nam is YOUR blog. You are writing America's history, sharing the truth about the Vietnam veteran, and what it was like in Our War.

The Inner Battle of War

by CJ Heck

The following question has brought a mountain of varied responses since its April 3, 2016  posting on Memoirs From Nam:  "Do You Still Think About Vietnam?

The article has now received several thousand responses from Vietnam Veteran groups in LinkedIn, Facebook, and Google+.  Those comments have run the gamut, from outright indignation, to soulful thoughts of helping others.

The original article was written by a Vietnam veteran, who chose to remain anonymous. He felt it was important for people to understand why he cannot, NOT think about Vietnam. He will always think about Vietnam -- and the war.

For a soldier, war wounds.  It wounds the body.  It wounds the mind.  It also wounds the soul, but the soul does not condemn, or judge us. It is only our own ego which judges and condemns.  Our soul becomes wounded anytime we are called on to do things that go against our natural conscience, which is our soul's sense of right and wrong.

We also have our unnatural conscience.  This comes from mom and dad, schools, society, and in the case of the soldier, the government and military.  When we go against our unnatural conscience, we learn there are consequences.  It starts in childhood and follows us through life: if we lie, mom and dad will ground us; if we cheat on a test, we will fail the course; if we steal, we will go to jail. For the soldier, if you don't shoot the enemy first, you will be killed.

These learned consequences are paid through those who taught them to us: mom and dad, school, society, and the government and military.  They do not damn the soul; however, they do wound the soul
through our natural conscience, our soul's sense of right and wrong. When this happens, the ego strives to make us pay, and it does this by using guilt.

The soldier is called on to do things that go against his natural conscience, which is the soul's sense of right and wrong. the ego takes control.  It tries to make him pay by using guilt over a long period of time, sometimes for an entire lifetime.

When our body has a wound, it heals itself. The soul is much the same. When we do things to help others heal their soul, we also slowly heal ours, as well.  We are taking the attention off of our individual judgment, or the judgment of our ego, and we begin to open our hearts by service to another.  

We are meant to serve one another.   We are all one soul, all Brothers and Sisters, worldwide.

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


Feel free to comment on this post. You are also invited to write about anything you feel comfortable sharing. Memoirs From Nam is YOUR blog. You are writing America's history, sharing the truth about the Vietnam veteran, and what it was like in Our War.

Suicides Among Veterans on the Rise

Depression and Suicide ...

by Byron Edgington

To my fellow veterans, their spouses, friends, family and those who care for us.

Here are a few words about the appalling number of suicides in our ranks. If the latest report is to be trusted, there are 22 suicides every day among military veterans. 

Though the Department of Defense statistics make it appear that suicide rates are declining to match the general population, a bit of interpretation of those numbers reveals a stark reality. 

Older vets, and especially National Guard and Reserve troops seem to be particularly vulnerable to suicidal ideations, and they (we) often succeed. 

There are many reasons, and I claim no expertise, but among them are alcohol and drug-related addictions, family conflict upon return from a theater of war, PTSD, loss of career and/or military-oriented purpose, (see underline below) and a host of other issues.

Michael Schindler is a Navy veteran, and president of Edmonds-based Operation Military Family. Writing on Edmonds Military Wire, Schindler, an author and frequent lecturer, had this to say about military suicides:

“Suicides among veterans over the past five years climbed from 18 a day to 22 a day. Bottom line: Those who serve and have served continue to fight the emotional battles, only to lose the war. 

One of the keys to overcoming the issue of suicide is helping transitioning service members find a new sense of mission. In doing so, a new purpose is born. From this, one can design an action plan and build a support network.” (http://myedmondsnews.com)

If you're a veteran struggling with emotional issues, or know of a vet who needs help, please get involved and extend whatever assistance you can, even if it means just listening to their concerns, and taking them seriously.

There is help out there. No veteran needs to suffer in silence.

Here are some resources:

http://www.armyg1.army.mil/HR/SUICIDE/DEFAULT.ASP

http://www.suicide.org/suicide-prevention-in-the-military.htmlhttp://www.militaryonesource.mil/http://www.ptsd.va.gov/public/PTSD-overview/reintegration/index.asp

(For good fiction and non-fiction accounts of the emotional perils associated with returning from war, read "Johnny Don't March" by Timothy Hurley, or "They Were Soldiers", by Ann Jones.)

Byron Edgington

Byron Edgington

The SkyWriter

Website
Blog
Byron's Book

Other Articles by Byron Edgington:

Bob Hope: Christmas 1970, Camp Eagle
History/Archival Sites for Vietnam Vets
Vietnam: Arriving at the Truth
Do Guns Equal Safety?
Laotian Rescue Mission
Ho Chi Minh
Terror and Hilarity
A Return to Vietnam
The War That Will Not Let Us Rest
War: A Waste of Youth
The Right Seat is the Wrong Seat
Jim, Frank, and The Snake
Smokey, The Alcoholic Pup

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


Feel free to comment on this post. You are also invited to write about anything you feel comfortable sharing. Memoirs From Nam is YOUR blog. You are writing America's history, sharing the truth about the Vietnam veteran, and what it was like in Our War.

"Home. It's not far away.": by John Puzzo

Home.  It's not far away
by John Puzzo

The shadows are lengthening for me.
I listen with thirsty ear 

for days gone past, 

where faint bugles sound Reveille 

over the cold, damp marsh
And call the Last Post 

over the mournful sounds 

of battlefields grown distant.
I'm just going home. 

It's not far, just close by...
my friends are there, 

mother and father, too.
Jesus is the door.
Don't be sad...that's not me, 

lying there. I am already gone.
At the shore of the river 

the boatman waits for his coin.
I shall not disappoint him.
Across the other side 

Sentinels watch for to welcome me,
and as they all were called, beckon
“Brother, home my brother. 

The load you bore is left 

for others to carry, yet over there…
So hang your cap upon this tree
and wait not long, You Sentinel.
In time you, too will see
another coming to these gates…
That others will be free.”

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


Feel free to comment on this post. You are also invited to write about anything you feel comfortable sharing. Memoirs From Nam is YOUR blog. You are writing America's history, sharing the truth about the Vietnam veteran, and what it was like in Our War.

The Bean Dip Incident: by Lance Pinamonte

This is not your typical war story, as it starts on a bright sunny morning in a land far, far away, where the wind was blowing the billowing smoke from the burning shit cans into the clapboard hooch's, causing many a night flight crew to awaken earlier than planned.

The smell of JP-4 and feces would somehow penetrate all of your senses and leave one with a positive outlook for the daily events planned by much better men than yourself. This was just one of those days, where you knew your day would be special ...

At least we got to sleep a couple of hours and the chow line was short, the pickings slim. A glass of OJ and a couple of slices of stale toast, it did not matter, it all tasted like those burning shit cans.  I made my way out to the flight line and decided to do my intermediate inspection, since it was only an hour away from being due.

So, stealing a maintenance stand from a PE crew, I slowly pushed the awkward stand down the pot-marked flightline only to lose control of it at the drainage ditch. Trying my best to keep it upright, I decided to hold on for dear life to the side of it, which caused me, and the stand, to end up in the mud at the bottom of the ditch.

Now, understand, this mud was special.  It had hydraulic fluid, JP-4, urine, and engine oil, along with the run off from the wash rack close by, all mixed together in it.  I was lucky. I landed on my head, so I would not break anything... it was at this point that the PE crew noticed I had stolen their stand, so out they came, all four of them, to retrieve it.

After they thanked me for finding their stolen stand, they pulled it from the ditch, had a good laugh at my demise, and wheeled it back to the PE hanger.  I decided I had better clean up, so I went over to the wash rack, grabbed the hose from the overhead water tank, and turned it on over my head... the previous operator of the wash rack had filled the tank with detergent, instead of spraying it on with a pressure can.  So, off I went to the hooches to shower and change clothes.

At this point, I thought things had to get better as I walked towards my hooch. But, no, it was about to get so much worse ... my pilots and gunner met me halfway back and informed me we had a mission -- no time to change, or shower -- so changing course, we all headed to my ship.

The first mission was a simple taxi job.  Pick up passengers in Saigon and take them to Lai Khe. As we took off, I noticed I was itching a little. The detergent was working at removing my first layer of skin.

By the time we got to Saigon, I was a bright shade of red and even my gunner was feeling sorry for me.  The pilots told me there was a garden hose to the side of a building near the landing pad, so while we were waiting for our passengers. I ran over to the hose and undressed to rinse off the detergent.

As I was standing there in my birthday suit, our passengers arrived.  As if I wasn't already red enough, I was even a darker red when I saw our passengers were Donut Dollies.

An old saying from one of my high school friends came to mind, "If they haven't seen it already, they will never see it again."  Now, I knew it wasn't the best saying in the world, but as I finished putting on my wet fatigues, I knew it couldn't get much worse, right?

I dropped my head and headed for the ship like a scolded dog, bright red, and still itching. I just couldn't make eye contact with these ladies.  The ONLY round eyes within 100 miles and I had to make a fool of myself in front of them ...

I just about got to the ship and was headed for the main rotor tie down, and "WHAM", I ran into
the stinger of the aircraft with my forehead -- sometimes, its best to look up when walking around large objects. Luckily, it didn't knock me out, but I knew it was going to leave a mark -- it turned into a nice goose egg, right in the middle of my forehead.. So much for any vanity around the ladies ...

The Donut Dollies had already sat down and the pilot started the ship.  My gunner had helped them with their seat belts, I donned my helmet, and dropped the face shield in shame. Of course, the helmet didn't feel real good on my goose egg, so I sat dejected in my gunwell, trying to sit still with my lower half itching like hell, and my head starting to throb.

We landed in Lai Khe shortly after and our pretty cargo departed, with a giggle and a wave. We had some time to wait for our next mission, so the pilots left for the local mess hall and I again tried to start my intermediate inspection. My Gunner was helping, which usually made it a little faster, although he had a strange sense of humor, being a grunt for six years.

Of course there was no maintenance stand, so I had to crawl up on the stinger and balance there to take my tail rotor oil sample.  So, I was standing on a 1-inch rod, balancing a wrench in one hand,
and a oil sample bottle in the other -- what could go wrong?

Well the sample draw plug was stuck, so I pulled a little harder on the wrench, and "POW" it came loose all at once, with oil hitting the top of my head.  As I panicked and tried to pull the wrench to shut it, I lost my balance and fell off the skid, landing on my butt.  Hey, the good thing was, I filled the sample bottle! The bad thing was, I now had oil dripping off my nose... We finally finished the inspection and the pilots showed up to take off for our next mission... We got a can of C's for lunch...

Our next mission was unplanned, as we left for a simple resupply we got a call for a medivac, we flew to an area near Quan Loi and contacted the ground troops, we headed into popped smoke, then realized it was not the right popped smoke.. The enemy opened up, and our ship shuttered, we could not return fire because of close proximity of our troops, so I made myself a small itchy crotched, oily, bumpy headed person, so they couldn't see me... 

The pilots were screaming as they pulled hard on the old bird to clear the trees, we gained altitude and it got real silent, then we all realized we were still alive.. The ship was doing well and another ship had arrived on scene to do the medivac, we were making a beeline to Quan Loi with my bird making a whistling noise, losing power, and the pilots calling altitude and RPM's.. They got the bird down safely, although it wouldn't fly again for many months.. It had thirty four counted holes in it, including a few in the main rotor blade, but none of us had a scratch........

We were emptying the ship of our gear, waiting for one of our ships to take us back home when a bunch of bad humored NVA decided to fire a few rockets at the flightline of Quan Loi.. Now some people run
for the nearest cover, but being veterans of many rocket attacks we knew the best action was to hit the deck in place, and become flat as hell... The odds of them hitting us was very slim, the odds of us having to lay down in leaking JP-4 from our ship was high... 

So after the all clear was sounded my crotch had another reason to itch and now a steady burn was over coming the itch.. The good thing was that now I had company, my Gunner... One of our ships landed shortly after, and my Gunner and I were forced to sit on the floor of the ship, the CE of that bird did not want JP-4 on his seats...

Now I bet you are wondering where the Bean Dip is going to come in? Well, my day had to have a bright spot right? By the time we got back to base it was dark, all I wanted was a shower and a cot to sleep away this bad dream of a day.. I got back to my hooch and found a care package from home sitting on my bunk.. My parents would send me KIT wax, chips and,,,, you guessed it, BEAN DIP... so I decided instead of going to the Mess hall for something to eat I would have a feast on bean dip and chips, the shower could wait a little longer.. 

I opened the package and there it was four cans of bean dip, ripping open the chips, and grabbing a Pepsi from the mini-fridge, I started to open the bean dip can by pulling the tab and promptly slicing my thumb wide open.... It started to bleed and I grabbed my clean towel I was going to use for a shower, wrapping my thumb up, then peeking at the wound I decided I had better head for the medic's, as I had very little holding my thumb on... 

The medic started on it as soon as I arrived, no one else was there at that hour, and as he stitched he asked if I wanted a Purple Heart.. I said "For what, a Bean Dip Mortar?" .. He looked at me strange and said "I thought you got this outside of Quan Loi?" , I simply replied "Its a long story and a bad day."..

Just think, I could be telling my Grandkids about my Purple Heart right now, instead I tell them about a Bean Dip can...

Lance Pinamonte

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


Feel free to comment on this post. You are also invited to write about anything you feel comfortable sharing. Memoirs From Nam is YOUR blog. You are writing America's history, sharing the truth about the Vietnam veteran, and what it was like in Our War.