Honor Among Soldiers

If you have fed from a steady diet of Hollywood movies about Vietnam you probably believe that everyone who wore a uniform in America's long, sad involvement in war in Vietnam is some sort of a clone of Lt. William Calley---that all three million of them were drug-crazed killers and rapists who rampaged across the pastoral landscape. Those movies got it wrong, until now. There is one more Hollywood film now playing called "We Were Soldiers" and it gets it right. Ask any Vietnam veteran who has gone to see the movie. In fact, ask any American who has gone to see it.

It is based on a book I wrote with my lifelong friend Lt. Gen. (ret) Hal Moore; a book written precisely because we believed that a false impression of those soldiers had taken root in the country which sent them to war and, in the end, turned its back on both the war and the warriors. I did four tours in Vietnam as a war correspondent for United Press International---1965-66, 1971, 1973 and 1975. In the first three of those tours at war I spent most of my time in the field with the troops and I came to know and respect them and even love them, though most folks might find the words "war" and "love" in the same sentence unsettling if not odd. In fact, I am far more comfortable in the company of those once-young soldiers today than with any other group except my own family. They are my comrades-in-arms, the best friends of my life and if ever I were to shout "help!" they would stampede to my aid in a heartbeat. They come from all walks of life; they are black, white, Hispanic, native American, Asian; they are fiercely loyal, dead honest, entirely generous of their time and money. They are my brothers and they did none of the things Oliver Stone or Francis Ford Coppola would have you believe all of them did.

On the worst day of my life, in the middle of the worst battle of the Vietnam War, in a place called Landing Zone X-Ray in the Ia Drang Valley of Vietnam, I was walking around snapping some photographs when I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. It was a tall, lanky GI who jumped out of a mortar pit and ran, zig-zagging under fire, toward me. He dove under the little bush I was crouched behind. "Joe! Joe Galloway! Don't you know me, man? "It's Vince Cantu from Refugio, Texas!" Vince Cantu and I had graduated together from Refugio High School, Class of 59, 55 boys and girls. We embraced warmly. Then he shouted over the din of gunfire: "Joe, you got to get down and stay down. It's dangerous out here. Men are dying all around." Vince told me that he had only ten days left on his tour of duty as a draftee soldier in the 1st Battalion 7th U.S. Cavalry, 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile). "If I live through this I will be home in Refugio for Christmas." I asked Vince to please visit my mom and dad, but not tell them too much about where we had met and under what circumstances. I still have an old photograph from that Christmas visit---Vince wearing one of those black satin Vietnam jackets, with his daughter on his knee, sitting with my mom and dad in their living room. Vince Cantu and I are still best friends.

When I walked out and got on a Huey helicopter leaving Landing Zone X-Ray I left knowing that 80 young Americans had laid down their lives so that I and others might survive. Another 124 had been terribly wounded and were on their way to hospitals in Japan or the United States. I left with both a sense of my place, among them, and an obligation to tell their stories to any who would listen. I knew that I had been among men of honor and decency and courage, and anyone who believes otherwise needs to look in his own heart and weigh himself.

Hal Moore and I began our research for the book-to-be, We Were Soldiers Once and Young, in 1982. It was a ten-year journey to find and ultimately to bring back together as many of those who fought in LZ Xray and LZ Albany, a separate battle one day after ours only three miles away in which another 155 young Americans died and another 130 were wounded. We had good addresses for perhaps no more than a dozen veterans, but we mailed out a questionnaire to them to begin the process. Late one night a week later my phone rang at home in Los Angeles. On the other end was Sgt. George Nye, retired and living very quietly by choice in his home state of Maine. George began talking and it was almost stream of consciousness. He had held it inside him for so long and now someone wanted to know about it. He described taking his small team of engineer demolitions men into X-Ray to blow down some trees and clear a safer landing zone for the helicopters. Then he was talking about PFC Jimmy D. Nakayama, one of those engineer soldiers, and how a misplaced napalm strike engulfed Nakayama in the roaring flames. How he ran out into the fire and screamed at another man to grab Jimmy's feet and help carry him to the aid station. My blood ran cold and the hair stood up on the back of my neck. I had been that man on the other end of Nakayama. I had grabbed his ankles and felt the boots crumble, the skin peel, and those slick bones in my hands. Again I heard Nakayama's screams. By then we were both weeping. I knew Nakayama had died a day or two later in an Army hospital. Nye told me that Jimmy's wife had given birth to a baby girl the day he died--- and that when Nye returned to base camp at An Khe he found a letter on his desk. He had encouraged Nakayama to apply for a slot at Officer Candidate School. The letter approved that application and contained orders for Nakayama to return immediately to Ft. Benning, Ga., to enter that course.

George Nye is gone now. But I want you to know what he did with the last months of his life. He lived in Bangor, Maine, The year was 1991 and in the fall plane after plane loaded with American soldiers headed home from the Persian Gulf War stopped there to refuel. It was their first sight of home. George and some other local volunteers organized a welcome at that desolate airport. They provided coffee, snacks and the warm "Welcome home, soldier" that no one ever offered George and the millions of other Vietnam veterans. George had gone out to the airport to decorate a Christmas tree for those soldiers on the day he died. When we think of ourselves we think Shakespeare, Henry IV, Act IV, Scene 3: "We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he today that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother."

Honor and decency and uncommon courage were common among these soldiers and all the soldiers who served in Vietnam. I think of how they were, on patrol, moving through jungle or rice paddies. Nervous, on edge, trying to watch right, left, ahead, behind, all at once. A friend once described it as something like looking at a tree full of owls. They were alert for sign, sound or smell of the enemy. But they also watched each other closely. At the first sign of the oppressive heat and exhaustion getting to someone the two or three guys around would relieve him of some or all of the heavy burden that the Infantryman bears: 60 or 70 pounds of stuff. Rifle and magazines. A claymore mine or two. A couple of radio batteries. Cans of C-Rations. Spare socks. Maybe a book. All that rides in the soldier's pack. They would make it easier for him to keep going. They took care of each other, because in this situation each other was all they had.

When I would pitch up to spend a day or two or three with such an outfit I was, at first, an object of some curiosity. Sooner or later a break would be called and everyone would flop down in the shade, drink some water, break out a C-Ration or a cigarette. The GI next to me would ask: What you doing out here? I would explain that I was a reporter. "You mean you are a civilian? You don't HAVE to be here?" Yes. "Man, they must pay you loads of money to do this." And I would explain that, no, unfortunately I worked for UPI, the cheapest news agency in the world. "Then you are just plain crazy, man." Once I was pigeonholed, all was all right. The grunts understood "crazy" like no one else I ever met. The welcome was warm, friendly and open. I was probably the only civilian they would ever see in the field; I was a sign that someone, anyone, outside the Big Green Machine cared how they lived and how they died. It didn't take very long before I truly did come to care.

They were, in my view, the best of their entire generation. When their number came up in the draft they didn't run and hide in Canada. They didn't turn up for their physical wearing pantyhose or full of this chemical or that drug which they hoped would fail them. Like their fathers before them they raised their right hand and took the oath to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States. It is not their fault that the war they were sent to fight was not one that the political leadership in Washington had any intention of winning. It is not their fault that 58,200 of them died, their lives squandered because Lyndon Johnson and, later, Richard Nixon could not figure out some decent way to cut our losses and leave the Vietnamese to sort the matter out among themselves.

As I have grown older, and so have they, and first the book and now the movie have come to pass I am often asked: Doesn't this close the loop for you? Doesn't this mean you can rest easier? The answer is no, I can't. To my dying day I WILL remember and honor those who died, some in my arms. I WILL remember and honor those who lived and came home carrying memories and scars that only their brothers can share and understand. They were the best you had, America, and you turned your back on them.

Here's an email going around the Gulf. If the media whores were more like him, I might actually have some use for them.

And one thing I see in the soldiers, sailors, airman, and marines here, they look out for their buddy, and will/have die for them.

With soldiers like these, watch out terrorists. We're here,

I did not get a chance to be in the military back when I was 18. It was 1968 and Vietnam was raging. But I wanted to. There were physical reasons behind this. I supported the soldiers but had some problems with who was running the war. Back then at 18, even I saw the problem with Lyndon Johnson and Robert McNamara. I predicted even then with what was going on we would be long if ever getting out of there. I have been pro military most of my life. Some thought I was anti American because I did not support what they were doing. I have always supported the soldier just like Col Hackworth does. David Hackworth has a lot of military biggies against him. Why? Because some of these people are career military people that do not support the soldiers but are worried only about their status. Myself, I support the soldier and was incredibly moved by that film "We are Soldiers." Every American should see it. I sat there during the credits at the end still stunned by the realistic portrayal it gave. I knew guys over there and yes it is better than any film. I am sure the Academy Award people will ignore it as Best Picture like they ignored "Saving Private Ryan," and instead voted that insipid "Shakespeare in Love" movie. But who cares? This last Academy Award show showed exactly what the political left are. Many tuned it out because of their p.c. agenda. Anyway, the movie is one of the best you will ever see. Can you imagine if the p.c. people would get ahold of this film like they have done with E.T.? anyway, this is all I had to say. Brad in Houston

I have been in service since late 1991 and as person in the service right now, I just want to say we could not be the best fighting force in the history of the world without the courage and sacrifice of the men and women who came before us. Your example has inspired me since childhood, and if I have my way it will inspire my children's children. Thank you Vietnam Veterens. Thank you Korean War Veterens. Thank you veterns of World War Two and those in the tiny unmentioned brushfires in between. You are my heros in a world conspicuously absent of them. God Bless you all.

It is really good to see that someone finally got it right. I saw the movie and it is one of the best. I was in the military during the Vietnam fiasco, but never did have the privelege of making it to that part of the world and ended up in the European theatre for the cold war. This did not prevent me from getting harrassed as a baby killer, when in the states, by the long haired hippy freaks.

God bless all you guys who tried to do a job which the politicians hung you out to dry on . . . and the leftwing loonies fought against you. The closest I ever got was as a college freshman in ROTC, final year of the war. The worst I had to put up with was the ridicule of fellow students on the days I wore the uniform to class-- and my summer job of trying to get recruits for the program among incoming high school graduates who refused to even agree to meet and talk about it.

NEVER FORGET

For more on .."WE WERE SOLDIERS"../ Battle of IA DRANG-1965 see:

1) ..'Ronnie Guyer Photo Collection'.. IA DRANG-1965 Photos on our 7th Cavalry website.. www.LzXray.com ...thru the Home Page's ..'Ia Drang - Interest'.. Section.

2) ..'ALOHA RONNIE'.. Bookmarked F/R .."WE WERE SOLDIERS"../ IA DRANG-1965 / RICK RESCORLA ..Articles by accessing the ..'ALOHA RONNIE'.. on this Post.

3) ..'ALOHA RONNIE'.. Forum Threads/Posts on.. www.WeWereSoldiersFILM.com .. ('The Movie' -&- 'General Discussion' Sections)

GARRY OWEN, Sir

Signed:

ALOHA RONNIE Guyer / Vet-Battle of IA DRANG-1965/ Landing Zone Falcon / Lt. Col. HAL G. MOORE's Radioman/Driver/Orderly till IA DRANG-1965 / IA DRANG S-1 Personnel Clerk - MOORE wrote his personal Letters of Condolances to the families of our fallen, I typed them up, ie. to Mrs. JACK GEOGHEGAN (Actress Keri Russell)

NEVER FORGET

I was just beginning helicopter pilot training at Ft. Wolters, TX when this battle was raging. Ended up in the same AO (Pleiku) a little over a year later with the 4th ID as a slick driver. The 1st Cav, by that time, had moved most of their operations to the east of An Khe. By the time the NVA had gotten my cherry in the western end of the Ia Drang in Feb/Mar 67, any institutional knowledge of the 65 battle had vanished for the average soldier (me).

I saw the movie the day it opened. Liked it. However, just as anyone is critical of things they know about, I am critical of how helicopter operations were portrayed in "Soldiers." First of all, Hueys didn't sneak up on anyone. Second, gunships didn't hover around a hot landing zone firing their weaponry. They made gun runs with one aircraft covering the other on the break. However, they had to put a 3-day battle into a 2-hour movie and all are forgiven. Joe Galloway and LTG Hal Moore are still two of my heroes.

...Please go to.. www.WeWereSoldiersFILM.com .. 'Latest News' ..and scroll down to my own .."WE WERE SOLDIERS".. Movie Review that I wrote after seeing it in a Special Screening for us IA DRANG-1965 Vets at Ft. Benning on Feb 13th titled:

..'I LOVED THIS MOVIE'..

Although I never got closer than about 500 miles to Vietnam, my life was profoundly affected by that war. I joined the Navy because of the draft in late 1967 and spent three years in the Phillipines watching people go TDY to thailand and Vietnam.

I will never forget the professionalism and the honor exhibited by most of the people I knew during that time. I also remember the sickness I would feel when reading about the so-called Paris peace talks, knowing all along that we were being played by the communists and the press for fools. For me, the really ugly part of the Veitnam war was played by the unprincipled apologists for marxism who as much as spat in the face of the honorable people from our armed services.

Mr. Gorbachev's recent description of the Soviet Union as all propoganda and no substance made me cheer. It is too bad that our former president who "loathed the military" and had visited Moscow in the late 60's, had the power to appoint people to run our military. In my mind there is a direct connection between his willful hatred of the military and what is protrayed in "Black Hawk Down"..... Honorable men being betrayed by weanies who trust themselves too much.

...The Enemy Within CLINTONS =

...No Tanks to protect our Troops in Somolia...

...No Intelligence Op's in Afgh starting in 1993..

...No Hiring of Spies to stop Sept 11th since 1995..

...No RICK RESCORLA who died inside Tower 2 on Sept 11th after saving 1,000's of lives, like he did in the World Trade Center Bombing-1993 -&- the Battle of IA DRANG-1965 ("WE WERE SOLDIERS")*

...Don't you DARE let them get away with THIS ONE...!!!*

Signed:..ALOHA RONNIE/Vet-Battle of IA DRANG-1965 www.LzXray.com

I was just beginning helicopter pilot

The most profound passage in the book for me was where one of the Helo pilots said:

"The unit was not going to fail its mission cause of support he didn't provide."

I've made that my philosopy. And hope a REMF like me can help.

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