CAMP Talk

Lately, life seems like a time warp. Nutritionists are praising the healthful glories of the traditional hippie diet of brown rice, bean sprouts and nuts. Young men are getting rid of their closely shorn military buzz cuts for over-the-ear length hair with Beatles bangs. Hip-hop artists are "mashing" their lyrics to Lennon/McCartney tunes. And three decades after the U.S. withdrew its troops, the debate over the war in Vietnam is raging once again in the hearts and minds of many Americans.

The spark that is rekindling Vietnam is the current presidential election, in which an incumbent who found a way to stay safe at home faces an injured and decorated war hero. To some old-timers, John Kerry’s credentials as a hero are seriously tarnished by the fact that he campaigned to stop the war after he returned from combat. Kerry’s leadership of the Vietnam Veterans Against the War was bold and—in some circles—quite controversial back in 1969-70, but it wasn’t long before most Americans were in agreement with him that our nation’s self-inflicted quagmire in Southeast Asia had been a decade-long blunder, ill advised to begin with and horrifically costly in terms of dollars and lives.

What seems to still vex some old soldiers is that Kerry violated the confidence of his "band of brothers" by publicly describing certain of our troops’ actions as "atrocities." Today, the Presidential candidate, who supports expanded services for military alumni and improvement of woefully financed veterans‘ hospitals, says his choice of words back then may have been a bit too dramatic, a reflection of his youthful passion for the cause. But, he argues, the gist of his message is grounded in fact.

Many of us who were activists during the Vietnam-war era, particularly those who now aspire to high political office, have tended to moderate our political tone with age. But, having recently spent considerable time with an ex-Marine officer who was in Vietnam at approximately the same time as Kerry, I would argue that "atrocity" is precisely the correct term for some of the actions taken by some Americans there.

The Marine of whom I speak spins grisly wartime stories with a relish that sends chills down my spine. Now a successful businessman, he is also lost in a time warp. His Harley motorcycle jacket still sports a "Nuke Jane Fonda" patch, and he still offers no apologies for any of his past behaviors or those of the men he led. Rather, if his knees hadn’t given out on him, he’d be quick to reenlist to "wipe out Iraqis" and other citizens of the Middle East. He makes it quite clear that he doesn’t particularly care for any of them.

One of this Marine’s most frequently told stories about his Nam days (I’ve heard it three times) involves his platoon’s discovery of a Viet Cong-sponsored hospital burrowed into a rural hillside. I can’t bring myself to quote the language he uses to label the people who were being treated there, but he breaks into a big grin as he describes how his men hurled grenade after grenade into the hospital’s entry tunnel, burning and burying everyone inside, from medical personnel to local women and children who had been caught in the crossfire of battle.

Biting my lip to keep from provoking him, I asked (upon hearing the story a third time) whether there had ever been any kind of official inquiry into the incident. He said there had, but that nothing much came out of it other than a request for him to attend a couple "silly sessions" with a psychiatrist. "Hell, they were all enemy," the Marine recalls without a trace of remorse in his voice.

Despite his defiant demeanor and his current respected stature in the corporate world, I suspect that the ex-Marine still carries a lot of psychological baggage from his war years. His eagerness to recount such a horrific story is indicative of that. I had not planned on writing anything about him; the very recollection of his words ties a knot in the pit of my stomach. But, inasmuch as our government once again is committing a growing number of young people to a long and dubious military commitment in a distant land, and because some folks are questioning John Kerry’s past statements about wartime atrocities, I have to speak up. Yes, there were atrocities committed by Americans in Vietnam. And if we fail to acknowledge our past failures, we are doomed to repeat them in today’s new age of warfare.

We all support our troops. But there is a distinction between supporting them and blindly endorsing everything that every one of them does during the dehumanizing stress of combat—as is being seen with the sadistic abuses of Iraqi prisoners by some American guards. Ultimately, my viewpoint has changed very little in the decades between the Vietnam and Iraq eras: The best way for our nation to support our soldiers is to remove them from harm’s way as quickly as possible and provide them with first-rate physical and mental health care for the rest of their lives.

OK, enough somber thoughts for a while. The summer holidays are fast approaching, and my intent for the next few issues is to share with you some stories from the more lighthearted side of life. John and I are embarking on a new experience as weekend residents of one of the nation’s premier all-gay trailer and RV resorts, where Statues of David outshine even flamingos as the yard ornaments of choice. Stay tuned to CAMPtalk for our adventures as city queers lost in the woods. (It will be like Survivor with cocktails and a disco.)

Also, if the good Lord’s willing and the creek don’t rise (as Tennessee Ernie Ford used to say; yup, trailer camp life already is affecting me), we’re planning to be in Rehoboth early this summer to catch up with many of you—and I’ll share the details of our Delmartian adventures in these pages, too. See you on the road—I’m just not sure if it will be in the future or the past.