Waiting: One Wife's Year of the Vietnam War

Chapter 35

{Chapter 35} January was the winter of my wait in every sense of the word. Northers blew into West Texas, dumping snow and bringing freezing temperatures that lasted for days. But the chill I felt came from cold fear that shivered deep inside me. Lee was in trouble and I knew it. I scrutinized every letter even more carefully now for clues to his psychological well being. The standdown in mid-December seemed to have helped temporarily, because for the next couple of letters, he wrote more like himself. I was not naïve enough, however, to think that a three-day break could cure the trauma of eight months in combat. By now, cheerful letters were as terrifying as grim ones, because they hinted at a hysterical euphoria, and notes that said he was fine and didn’t mind now how much longer he stayed in the field smacked of fatalism. In each of his letters, Lee continued to say that he expected to be replaced soon. I had learned not to believe that. Yet no matter how hard I tried to steel myself against hope, I found that I tore into each new letter with expectation. A full thirty days after Lee first wrote that he would give up command “in a month or so,” he was still writing the exact words. The contents of his letters reinforced my growing alarm. December, I learned in January, had been a bloody month for Bravo Company. In fact, the last week of 1969 had been the worst combat Lee had endured. On December 29, he wrote: Yesterday at about 1000 hours we set up a large perimeter and sent some squad-size ambushes out—One of my ambushes was ambushed themselves—Took 1 WIA. After we hit the area with [272] chapter 35 gunships we went back in—only to have the entire company hit by gooks in a bunker complex. We finally had to get arty, gunships, and air strikes to pull out. We ended up with 9 WIA—4 of them in very bad shape. However, they are still alive this morning at the hospital so they should make it. Was the worst fight I’ve been in. I wanted Lee out of the field, and I wanted him out now. But Lee was not done with command or the toll of its responsibilities. In his next letter, he recounted how he ended 1969: New Year’s Eve The last 3 days have been bad. Since the last letter about the 9 WIA we’ve been in nearly constant contact—lost 3 more WIA and 1 KIA. We hit a large element—or rather they hit us—with machine guns etc—In last 3 days I’ve used over 500 rounds of artillery, 8 gunships, 6 air strikes. Bn finally, finally pulled us out. Evidently we hit a couple of companies. What I’ve heard is it was the heaviest contact over 3 days the area has had in some time. I lost men out of every plt. Lost more in one day than I had lost in 9 months—My feelings are hard to put into words—a deep loss. I just asked one of my plt leaders how to put it in words. He said “The most violent action the Battalion has seen.” I agree. As far as the contact goes, it was bad. However my company’s actions were beyond belief. For 3 days we slept little, ate nothing. Battalion and Brigade say we accomplished a great deal—I wonder . I dusted men off with wounds that will disable them the rest of their lives. I dusted a dead man off I had chewed out a week before. I am realizing the burdens of being a company commander. Enough on what happened. Now for my actions and feelings now. Honey, I’ve done my job. I’ve kept the men going. I’ve shown no emotion. No one but you knows my deep hurt on the WIA and KIA. I feel I’ve lost a great deal—I’ve hardened a lot. But now this action is over. I read back on this, honey, and I have matured, as only a soldier can. My nerves are if anything steadier. I even feel January-February 1970 [273] good—even happy. I am alive. More important, more of my men are alive than for any...