I am a retired U.S. Army officer and a volunteer two-and-a-half tour Vietnam veteran. I also wear the Purple Heart and the Bronze Star with a “V” device (for valor) and oak leaf clusters (MACV General Orders Number 154, January 10, 1969) for wounds received and performance in combat action on July 3, 1968. It happened in a now-forgotten place called Long Phu village, which is in Vietnam's Long An province. So, as a Purple Heart bearer and a soldier who volunteered to serve his country in a brutal and violent war, I am stunned and disappointed and, yes, outraged when a fellow Purple Heart veteran, who also volunteered to serve his nation in a highly unpopular war, is unfairly and vehemently attacked and has his heroism challenged by falsehoods and innuendos.
When one bearer of the Purple Heart is attacked, all wearers of the Purple Heart, from all wars, are attacked. We are talking about people who suffered injury while fighting for their flag and nation and the ideals projected by our great country. We are talking about soldiers who went into harm's way, like so many brave Americans who risked their lives and limbs in service when their nation called. We are talking about those who went to war -- perhaps not all voluntarily, but they went nonetheless. And for going, they are worthy of the deepest respect and the highest honor. To disrespect a combat veteran is to disrespect what our nation stands for. Those who went to Vietnam went into hell. Many survived, but many others have only their names honored and remembered on a black granite wall.
Perhaps just a quick review of that Long Phu event will give some perspective and illustrate just what sort violence could flare up -- and havoc result -- in that chaotic land. I was an adviser with the United States Military Assistance Command, Vietnam (MACV). On that miserably hot and humid July day, I was acting as senior tactical adviser to Major Ky, my Vietnamese counterpart. He was commanding the 648 Regional Forces Company, Army of the Republic of Vietnam. We were conducting a “helimobile” operation -- inserted by helicopter into suspected enemy-held areas -- in the Long An province. As our unit began a ground combat sweep through the area, we suddenly came under heavy attack from a large, well-fortified enemy unit employing accurate small-arms fire. We suffered numerous casualties.
Major Ky was killed, and I was repeatedly wounded as I moved among the troops. With Major Ky gone, it fell to me to gather the unit to repel the attack and aid the wounded. I had to call in those wonderfully brave medical helicopter evacuations, which were covered by our fire and by Navy jet aircraft providing close-air support. I also directed return fire by our unit and U.S. artillery fire on the enemy bunkers. This was all in a matter of a few terribly confused and frenetic minutes. Only the courage, steadfastness, and prior training of our gallant Vietnamese soldiers allowed us to fight off a powerful and well-coordinated, well-armed ambush. I still mourn those brave men who were killed and honor those with whom I fought alongside that terrible day.
Here I must add that these types of ambush tactics were the common thread of much of the action seen by most of our forces. In just the same manner, well-supplied and camouflaged enemy units attacked “Swift” boats throughout the combat areas. More than once, such boats provided our salvation during operations. We were supported, and perhaps saved, by men on those seemingly fearless boats roaring to our aid as we called for help. Now, in no way am I saying that John Kerry's boat personally came to help me. What I am saying is that each and every one of those boats was a formidable and potent weapon supporting the U.S. mission in Vietnam. Every man who served aboard was a valiant warrior facing a wily and professional foe bent on destruction. Those men on those boats were heroes of the first caliber.
Soldiers go where their nation sends them. They are people of conviction who do the very best they can to serve with dignity and to survive with dignity. But the important thing is that they go. To attack any of them, especially 30 years or more later for political gain, is reprehensible, repugnant, and something my God considers a sin. To do so it to attack all of our brave uniformed men and women in all past wars -- and those currently in Iraq, Afghanistan, and elsewhere, who are serving each of us.
I'm not a pundit, and writing about politics isn't my game. But it would outrage and sadden me to see a man who honorably served his country defeated because of an attack like this. If we fail to honor and hold sacred all the sacrifices made by those in our military who go when needed, we, as a nation, are doomed (not to mention damned). Those who remain silent and do not abominate the degradation of our military deserve that doom -- and should feel a deep sense of shame each time they look in a mirror or see our flag flying free and proud.
Gordon Carmichael lives in Harker Heights, Texas.
