Today was my first visit to my psychologist’s office. She wanted to talk to me about Vietnam. She was the first person, besides my fellow grunts, who I actually talked about the war with. I chose one of the most important battles that I ever fought in to explain. As I began talking about the battle, I transported to a different time and place, the smells and sounds became real and I could see the battle unfolding before my very eyes:
Snipers shot down entire groups of my men without warning. Our first platoon was completely wiped out except for THREE men. Heavy smoke and detonations clouded the battlefield to the point where you could only see 50 yards in front of you (I was a track runner throughout high school so I know exactly how far 50 yards is, but believe me, we used to say the workouts were hell. Mile repeats and hills and suicides are nothing compared to a war). At 102 degrees, men were dropping like flies from heat stroke. Lack of sleep didn’t help matters either. I had been awake for three days straight and at full alert because if we didn’t pay attention once, disaster might strike and we might not have to worry about paying attention any more… Grenades and bullets rained like fire from the sky. The only thing that could be heard was people screaming and bombs exploding. Our casualties added up to 75% of our men. It was a complete bloodbath. We had no idea how to protect ourselves because there was no cover. If there had been a place to go in order to take cover, I think there would have been less death and less destruction but, alas, we were the victims of the landscape.
The psychological stress that resulted from the situation reduced some men to insanity. I saw men next to me run out into the battlefield because they could not deal with the war any longer. It was complete suicide and I could not make sense of it. I figured if I died, there would be one less guy to protect the remaining men. As these thoughts engulfed me, I came to the realization that it was my responsibility to survive. I was responsible for the lives of these men as much as my own life and I fought even harder knowing that I had a reason to continue.
As I told all of these things to the psychologist, she took notes on her clipboard. She probably thought I was insane just like the men I described. Once notes filled the entire page, she asked me if I could describe another battle that may have triggered my PTSD. There were more than fifty that I could explain in full detail, but I chose the most heart-wrenching for me:
This was two days after the battle that I had just explained to her. We were hiding from the Vietcong in the woods. The VC knew exactly where we were because they continued to drop grenades on us. Suddenly, the bombs stopped. At this point, I knew we were in trouble because the only reason they would stop was to advance and close in on us. One of the radio operators was right next to me. I began screaming for the helicopter pilot. Because they also knew our exact location, I begged him to ring us with napalm. Napalm was a nasty gas that slowly asphyxiated its victims. We used it often because gas warfare had become common in Vietnam. It was an easier method to kill many people in one “shot” and it didn’t have to be extremely accurate in order to be effective. The pilot asked if there were any other American soldiers in the area to make sure that he did not drop the gas on them. Making the biggest decision of my life, I replied “Negative, I repeat there are no Americans in the area.” I knew darn well that some of my soldiers were there but I had to protect the ones that were in the safe zone. I heard the screams of my men ring through the battlefield as the napalm attacked their respiratory systems and slowly and silently took away their last breaths. Often, I ask myself how I could be so inhumane as to murder my own men. My answer is that I had to make the choice to sacrifice a few for the benefit of the many. Just as often, that answer is not enough and my choice still haunts me to this day.
Adapted from the story of Larry Gwin: Gwin, Larry. “Battle of the Ia Drang Valley.” The Soldiers’ Story. Ed. Ron Steinman. New York: Barnes and Noble Books, 2002. 53-61. Book.
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