- Bloods by Wallace Terry
- Chickenhawk by Robert Mason
- Citadel by Dale A Dye
- Nam by Mark Baker
- The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien
- The 13th Valley by John M Del Vecchio
- The Tunnels of Cu Chi by Tom Mangold and John Penycate
But before you go pick up one of these books, be warned - it can be a shocking experience. Here’s a sample from the book The 13th Valley:
“Shee-it, Egan,” a voice boomed out. “I don’t know how you kin smoke them gook cigarettes. They smell like they come outa the asshole of a dyin gook whore.”
And another:
“All right,” Egan boomed from over beside the dead soldier, “who’s got the mothafucker’s ear? You fucken pig.” Egan charged toward Denhardt. “You mothafucker. You low life cunt fuck. Put that ear back on that man’s head.” Denhardt tried to protest. Egan raged more furiously. “BULLSHIT!” He yelled. “Either you put that fucken ear back on that fucken dink’s head or I’m gonna cut yers off en nail em on him. You fucken savage.” Egan spat. He grabbed Denhardt by the shoulders of his shirt, yanked him forward and threw him toward the body. “Bury that fucker before the stench makes me vomit in your mouth.”
In case you didn’t know, a “gook” or a “dink” is slang for anyone racially Asian.
This is from the book Citadel:
‘This man was hit by three rounds of an AK burst at close range. One round apparently got under his helmet and took the top of his skull off causing massive brain damage.’
Corpsman pulled back the battle dressing covering the top of the grunt’s head. Brain was a pulsing, red-tinged mass, spurting frothy blood where cranial arteries had ruptured. Entire top of his skull had been taken off by the enemy round. More diagnosis.
‘A second round entered the chest area under one arm and exited here.’ Doc pulled another battle dressing away from the left side of the man’s heaving chest. Heart and lung, both bravely pumping through a churned and torn mass of rib bone and gristle. As he inhaled, a putrid foam spurted from the exit wound. Corpsman replaced the battle dressing to keep him from losing any more blood.
‘Finally, the third round caught him almost full in the navel. Look at this shit.’ Peeled away a large bandage covering the grunt’s lower abdomen. Shiny intestine surged up like bloated blood sausage through a huge rent in the man’s belly. Nauseating smell. Similar to human shit but much stronger. Smell of waste, decay. Smell of violent death.
Take a look at the following pictures of American soldiers in East Asian wars. Look into the eyes. Do you see something eerily familiar in all of them?
Pacific Campaign, Second World War
Korean War
Korean War
Vietnam War
Vietnam War
A bit like looking into the eyes of insanity, no? The soldiers appear to be stunned by the ferocity of the fighting. Yet the warmongers in Washington DC just keep on sending these boys out to die on foreign soil.
My experience in Australia (see previous blog entry) distorted my perception of the white man (and woman) and it took me a while before I could accept him for what he truly is - a mere human being with fears, insecurities, weaknesses, irrationalities, etc, -just like everyone else. In the war zone, I saw the white man stripped of aura, bravado, pretense, nicety, hype and hubris, often confused, bewildered and helpless, sometimes in great pain, sorrow or terror. In short, I began to empathise with him. I could see through his eyes. I could think like him without being like him. We could connect at a totally different level.
