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The airliner banked to the west as it climbed away from the Memphis airport. Smiling stif®y, a stewardess demonstrated how to use an oxygen mask and blandly went about her performance. Just going through the motions was a way of life to much of America in that May of 1967. As the jetliner began to level off, I mulled over how indifferent people seemed to the world around them and realized that the Marine of¤cer’s uniform I wore could have been a business suit for the lack of interest it had generated. True, the airports these days were ¤lled with military personnel, making uniforms a common sight, but I thought there should have been at least some sign of acknowledgment for those of us involved in the Vietnam War effort. That con®ict had escalated over the last several years, and now great quantities of men and equipment were being shipped overseas at an increasing rate. Not only that, actual incidents of combat had become daily fare for the news media as¤lm footage depicted just how bloody the ¤ghting could be. Although polls at the time showed a majority of the public in support of the war, Vietnam had evoked little emotion in the early years. Americans more typically staked out positions on one side of an issue or the other and became outspoken about their feelings. Granted, there had been some emotion in the student demonstrations against the war in Berkeley, Manhattan, and Washington, but most people endorsing the campaign had been reticent with their views. That lack of vigorous support had begun to prick my interest, especially because I had just been 1 Why on thirty days of leave in my hometown. My return there as a serviceman had hardly been more than a curiosity to anyone, other than family, and had made me recognize that not everyone was as interested in Vietnam as I was. Although most people vaguely supported the war, it was an inconvenience that many wished would just somehow go away. Was this disinterest symptomatic of some fundamental change taking place in the American psyche, or was it perhaps an indication that Vietnam was not as necessary as the leadership in Washington had led us to believe ? Questions of that nature seemed much more pertinent because this ®ight to California was the ¤rst leg of the journey that would take me to Vietnam. With those thoughts beginning to form they nevertheless were secondary to other considerations and feelings. Instead, I focused on what Vietnam would be like and how I would ¤t in. Fresh out of Marine training and highly motivated as most new of¤cers were, I enthusiastically looked forward to whatever my new duty might hold as long as it involved me in the active war effort. In my mind, it would have been a real letdown to go to Vietnam and end up in some rear area job. As it turned out, that should have been the least of my worries. I was scheduled for an afternoon arrival at the Marine staging base in Camp Pendleton. My imagination had been running wild as to what the next year might hold, and my thought process was working overtime. Other than speculate about the war, I could only think back on the past to what seemed like a scripted set of circumstances guiding me toward this moment. What was it that had seemingly put me out of step with America’s current mood of indifference and was instead driving me with passion toward an experience that would exceed what I had envisioned? Reclining in a seat by the window, I looked out at towering thunderheads and reminisced on how I happened to be here. Born in Leland, Mississippi, in 1942, I had come into a world at war. Life in those days had been impacted by World War II, and the American people were strongly behind their country’s efforts. My earliest memories bring back images of this period and are de¤ned by my father in his Air Corps uniform at a base in Laredo, Texas. The military seemed to be everywhere then, and serving America was the proper thing to do. Although I was too young at the time to comprehend what 2 IMPACT ZONE it all meant, I vividly recall visits to our home by my uncle Charlie in his Army attire and my uncle Harold in his Navy garb. The excitement inspired by their military...

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