In Soldiers’ Voices, a Plea: Don’t Let It Be Like Vietnam

How can I adjust to my peers who had the money to go to college and didn’t have to sweat or possibly bleed for their country? I don’t know. I’m not trying to sound like a hero or something, but we endured a lot . . . and all I can think about is the ground troops in ‘Nam and what it must of been like.

I can tell you this, I’ve taken for granted what our troops did for us in previous battles , and I can only pray that in this conflict, it will end early with few casualties.

Those are the words of Marine Cpl. Steve Jacobson, the one they call Jake, 21 years old, from Camp Pendleton, a kid growing up in war.

He wrote them to his friend in Newport Beach, Caroline Carter, from the Saudi desert on Christmas Eve. That’s when he had time to think about what it might be like if, as he says, the Lord wills him home.

Voices of other young soldiers, conveyed through letters or directly to reporters on the front lines, betray the same fears. They’ve heard the stories from their older brethren, the ones who made it home from Vietnam.

I wonder how I will fit in when I come home? --Pfc. Jimbo Bell

War in the Persian Gulf will not be another Vietnam. Things are different now, the nation’s mood, the cause. We are not acting alone. George Bush has said all this time and again.

Still, who can know if it is really true? War only grows uglier with each moment that it lasts. The public may be behind the President now, but opinions change. So do moods.

Young soldiers, with their lives and their manhood on the line, listen to the news of peace protests with unease. They know what happened before. What if they too are spat upon when they return?

It really pisses us off when we hear about college kids protesting. We have no say about why we are here. We rely on our upper command to make the right decisions. We can’t get involved in the politics of this war. We just hope the American people don’t let us down out here .--Cpl. Tony Latiolais

Caroline Carter says she worries about a fine line. When does wanting peace change into hating the soldier who is fighting a war? The distinction, she remembers, can blur.

Caroline says she too wants the fighting to stop. She never wanted war. Not now and not then.

Caroline’s husband, Army Lt. Tim Dempsy, was a helicopter pilot in Vietnam. He was shot down, and killed, in 1973, just before the end. Caroline was pregnant with their second son. Tim Dempsy was 25 years old.

Now Caroline writes to other young soldiers, those taking part in Operation Desert Storm. Some are friends, and others are strangers who lose that title fast.

“This is my Vietnam catharsis,” she says. “I’m trying to say things to these kids that the guys I know from ‘Nam wanted said to them.”

Since the military reached the Saudi desert in August, Caroline’s written hundreds of letters. It was her brother, a Navy carrier pilot, who sparked the idea. He said he was concerned for the younger men.

“There are great feelings of bravado that come from being in the military, but the military doesn’t do a great job of coping with the feelings of those guys sitting in the hole,” Caroline says. “And if my brother, one of those egomaniacal jet jockeys, is concerned, there is good reason to be concerned.”

Thank you for talking to me from your heart. I wonder what it will be like if I do get home? --”Moon Dog”

Are people thinking about this? Do you think they care about this? Are they supporting us? --Spec. 4 Xavier Ramos

Vietnam veterans say they are experiencing strange, uncomfortable feelings of deja vu. They hope they are wrong; they pray the public has learned a lesson or two.

Ken Flint, a Vietnam veteran who counsels others at the Vet Center in Anaheim, says yesterday’s warriors may never get over the sting of rejection from those whose way of life they were sent to defend.

“We are still cleaning up after it,” he says. “I was thinking about all this at breakfast this morning, with my wife. We were talking about the war protests. I remember in the Vietnam era, I saw that as being honorable, and then I saw it turn . . . where instead of being strictly a pro-peace movement, it became more of an anti-military movement, anti-soldier.”

Other Vietnam veterans, a generation after their return, still fear speaking out by name. They want to fit in. No soldier likes to admit to this kind of pain.

When I came home, they were still protesting. There was no “Welcome Home.” After 13 months of one kind of hell, I just got dumped into another .--Pete F., Newport Beach

I didn’t understand the politics. I am lucky to have lived through it. Twenty years later, I still don’t know how or why .--Walt, Costa Mesa

How do you come to terms with a whole country that blames you? --Frank, New York City

“I am not in support of the war,” Caroline Carter says. “But I am in support of the kids. You cannot disenfranchise these kids. . . . Regardless of our political beliefs, we have to let them know that we appreciate that they went through the ultimate horrors that a human being can see.

“We can’t make them feel that our political feelings are more important than them. I saw that done to a whole generation of men from Vietnam. We can’t lose these guys too.”