Boots: by Lee Tucker

Boots at The Wall

As a Vietnam Veteran, I share many feelings with so many others.

We all served our country at a time when many of our countrymen didn’t agree with the war, or our participation.

Some of us volunteered, others were drafted, but all of us landed in the same country to fight the same enemy.

There are those who believe that their part in the war was more significant than others.

There are those who feel guilty for coming home alive, instead of in a body bag.

All of us are confused as to why we were shunned and protested against for serving our country.

All of us are Vietnam Veterans…

The military, like any machine, can only work when all of its parts are functioning the way they were designed. This includes all of its different branches: Infantry, Artillery, Naval Support, Air Support, Medical Support, and so many others, right down to the mechanics and company clerks. Without every single person involved, the machine will not function at full capacity…

Each Veteran was processed in country the very same way, and given their orders to a specific area to serve within the confines of their MOS. We were issued gear that included Jungle Boots that we would all wear for the time we spent in country.

And so, life in Vietnam began…

I was assigned to the 25th Infantry Division at Cu Chi. It was January of 1968. I was about to understand the full effect of “Tet”…

Being assigned to a mechanized infantry unit, we spent the majority of our time patrolling the rubber plantations along the Cambodian Border.

There are many stories of horror and heroism and just plain Hooah-ism that I could write about, but all of us have stories that we either share, or keep to ourselves. My story here is short and heart felt…

To all of you who have taken a bullet, watched a fellow soldier die, survived a human wave attack, survived mortar and rocket attacks, fired those big guns that scared the hell out of everybody, saved a soldier's life in the field, or in a field hospital...

To those who came out of nowhere and swooped down from the sky to get us out of bad situations…

To those who flew over us and dropped bombs on areas so we could continue our mission…

To those who processed our orders, coming and going…

To everyone who wore the Boots, I say thank you… 

Boots at The Wall

No one else could have felt your fear, or your pride, only you, when you laced up those Boots every day…

We all should be proud of our service. No one else walked in your Boots. No one else has the right to judge your importance.

Thank you all for your service to our country.

Welcome Home Brothers and Sisters…

Lee Tucker,
United States Army
Republic of Vietnam
January 1968 to January 1969



“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

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Richard Schwartz: Thoughts on Writing

I wrote the following in the hope that others might be encouraged to try writing, by explaining what writing is like for me. ~Richard Schwartz

Richard Schwartz

Thoughts on Writing:

by Richard Schwartz

Although my chronological age is 62, I am a newborn in the area of writing. Up until now, my career has been in an area of electronic device development that, unless you are in the electronics engineering field, you wouldn't have heard about firmware engineering.

My work was methodical and performed precise step by precise step. It involved a huge amount of mathematics. Writing fiction is about as far from that type of work as night is from day.

About 9 months ago, a friend suggested that I check out a website that had memories of soldiers who had served in Vietnam. I loved reading the articles contributed to the website. I decided to write an article for the website and thus began my writing career.

It remains to be seen if this career will produce dollar one but I thought it might be fun for some of CJ's readers to learn what writing is like for me and, hopefully, inspire others to try their hand at something that I find brings lots of joy into my life.

My novel follows three generations of a family in the Pacific Northwest. Except for the locations, it is pure fiction. At least 15% of my time is spent on research. Reading about some location or people tends to paint a mental picture of what I want to describe for the characters in the novel. I have one section of my novel that takes place in the early 1900's. I'll be developing that section late next week.

I've just discovered a book on pioneers in the Northwest that will provide background for that section of the novel. That also involves a couple who were born around 1850. so having a history of the Northwest will help outline who they are.

Today I'm starting to outline a family member who has emotional problems. Right now I think it will end in a suicide or suicide attempt or both. When I start writing about a character, they seem to take on a life of their own. I really don't know where they'll take my imagination.

An example of this would be when I decided to start a chapter with one of the main adult characters interacting with a child. I needed her to be a window character and intended to write one paragraph with her and that would be the end of her involvement in my novel. As soon as I started writing her, a flood of ideas poured into my head for her and now she's one of the main characters in the novel. Shortly after introducing her, an important and joy filled wedding takes place.

While I was agonizing over how I would write the wedding, I started hearing Sarah, the 5 year old, telling the story as if she were talking to her cousin, Ethan. So the entire wedding takes place from the viewpoint of a joy filled 5 year old girl.

Wondering where my imagination will take my novel next is kind of like watching a cloud. I don't have control over what it looks like or where its going. It may rain or snow or sleet or just pass by to reveal endless sunshine. Sometimes I struggle for hours to put a simple idea on paper and sometimes I can't seem to type fast enough to get all the ideas on paper that my imagination is supplying for me.

And never mind what time it is or where I am. The ideas just start pouring out. I've excused myself at dinners with family to sneak off and write down some ideas. I've gotten up at 2:00 in the morning and run down to my office with the intention of writing a couple of brief notes and then end up sitting at my keyboard for the next 6 hours busily typing away. That brings up another oddity. I lose track of time when I'm writing. That's NEVER happened to me before.

Yesterday around noon I told Carolynn that we could go out for a fast food lunch in 5 minutes. Five hours later, she came into my office laughing at me and asking if I was ready yet.

I've read that some writers' characters speak to them. Mine don't speak to me but I can hear them speaking to each other. Each character has a different voice. I don't assign them a voice but when I start writing about them I start hearing their voices as they talk to their fellow characters.

Oddly enough this is where the real fun comes in. As an absolute (now former?) techno geek, I am astonished that the part of writing I enjoy the most is creating language in little 2 dimensional symbols that describes the world and feelings I wish to convey to the reader. Its also (at least for me) the most challenging. I have to be honest. Writing is the most fun I have ever had besides activities with my children and family.

The best description of this is that for 62 years, I went to work every day. Although I spend 6 -12 hours writing nearly every day, it just isn't work. Does life get any better than that?

Having a great partner who understands the uneven creative process and providing a great sounding board for my ideas helps more than I can say. I had a chapter-long story completed that was based on an actual experience of mine when I was in 7th grade. Carolynn told me that no one would believe the story. I reiterated that this actually happened to me.

“I'm sure that this happened to you but none of your characters are as strange as you are so unless someone knows you, this is not realistic,” she told me. I rewrote the chapter as happening during the characters' college years and suddenly it was believable.

The question I am asked the most when I tell people I'm writing a novel is, “Where do you get your ideas?” The honest answer is that I don't have a clue where they come from. The second question I get is “Who is you favorite fiction author?” The answer is Mark Twain - but when people ask me that, sometimes I think they're really asking who inspires my writing.

I really don't have an author who inspires my writing. Maybe you've figured out by now that my characters inspire my writing as I write them. I know when my novel will end (death of a certain character) but I really don't know how I'll get there.  See? Carolynn is right. I really AM strange!

My thanks to Vietnam buddy, Craig Latham, and author, C.J. Heck, who guided me into this literary adventure.

"Per correr migliori acque alza le vele ormai la navicella del mio ingegno che lascia dietro a sé mar sì crudele."

[For better waters that are heading with the wind, My ship of genius now shakes out her sail, And leaves the ocean of despair behind].  Opening lines of Dante's Il Purgatorio - Dorothy L. Sayers Translation

Richard A. Schwartz
27708 246th Ave SE
Maple Valley, Wa. 98038


***Thank you so much, Richard.  Another well-written article -- you've captured the very essence of writing, and I can hardly wait to get a copy of your novel!  Best wishes.  ~CJ



“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

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