In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

Preface and Acknowledgments This story chronicles a two-part journey that has been more of an arduous, multi-decade slog than I initially intended. The first phase of the trip took place in Vietnam a long time ago when I committed to an American promise, a national pledge that eventually turned sour. That first lap was also a great personal adventure, a risky undertaking that ended in a sense of loss that continues to dog my steps. The second and much-longer leg of the journey has been years in the making, and it continues to develop. With the insight time allows I’ve come to realize how much my personal world rests on the foundations laid during those earlier, more-intense days. This book is an examination of some of the connective tissues binding my conflicted present to the formative past—it recognizes consequences. Only soldiers who fought in those last but little-reported cataclysmic battles of America’s war in Vietnam can tell this kind of story. The year 1972 was a confusing and stressful time when the United States was turning away from Indochina and abandoning millions of people who had put their trust in our promises. Despite this country’s change of direction, a few American spear-carriers refused to walk away from long-standing commitments. We were the warriors who chose to continue the fight that was not over, even though it was being abandoned by America’s leaders.1 In those final days before the roof finally fell in on the non-communist peoples of Indochina, I and a few others of a like persuasion remained focused on giving the commissars from North Vietnam a bloody nose.We were the last American soldiers to fight in that war, and it was a historic moment when we and our South Vietnamese warrior brothers joined hands to defeat the invading enemy on an extremely lethal battlefield. As I began the process of recalling those long-ago events, I first focused on a few vivid recollections that proved to be the tips of mental icebergs floating xii Preface and Acknowledgments mostly beneath the surface. It took time and effort to tease long-suppressed memories and emotions into revealing themselves more clearly. Much like the proverbial onion that brings tears before eventually contributing to a savory outcome, writing this book has required peeling back the layers. At times discomforting, the process has also been restorative and rewarding. Restorative in the sense I began to better remember a noble cause I once volunteered to serve. I’d forgotten how strongly I felt about joining the fight in Vietnam, how sure I was that it was the right thing to do. As the writing process unfolded I began to rediscover that idealistic young soldier, the one full of joyful energy and a thirst for adventure who answered an invitation to participate in a great crusade. The intervening years have taught many lessons, but prominent among them—I once had the courage to embrace a noble and worthy mission, a morally significant undertaking, a thrilling leap I would never be able to repeat. While many of those rediscoveries have been rewarding, pulling up longsubmerged memories has not been therapeutic in every instance. I’ve been reminded that the hard-boiled soldier of yesteryear is still there, lurking just out of sight, regardless of persistent efforts to sweeten him up under layers of social lipstick to get him house-broken. For the first time in years I got a good look at the rascal, peering out from the shadows as I worked to resurrect some of the most intimate and painful kinds of events a soldier can experience . Those recollections sometimes caught me with an unexpected jolt. For a moment I would be that old self again, back in those desperate times when men were slipping through a portal just beyond my reach, a window that had suddenly opened, but only for those who were called. Somehow I had forgotten the feeling of terrible finality, the pain of wishing Godspeed to men who were leaving while I remained behind. How could I have forgotten those times when eternity beckoned through machine-gun fire? How did I become so careless that I let my most significant life experience lose its edge? I didn’t always expect to survive, but here I am, living with it. I must tell you, however, that I’m not trudging along as I once did, flying solo inside...

Share