I've loved the work of Will Eisner for a long time, starting with Fagin the Jew and reading, over and over, his Contract with God Trilogy. Last Day in Vietnam is one of his later works, published (to my understanding) 5 years before his passing. In it, Eisner explores not only the Vietnam War, but war in general, and--as always with his work--the struggles of an individual working their way through this world in whatever way they can.
There is a marked "otherness" to the stories in Last Day in Vietnam. Eisner's characters often face front and address the reader as if they are breaking the fourth wall, soliloquizing. Their poses from panel to panel are reminiscent of classic pantomime. Most of the time, this direct address is, well, unaddressed, but in the first story of the collection, "Last Day in Vietnam", the reader IS acknowledged as a character: a journalist, an observer to the conflict. And in reading the collection's Introduction, one learns that the reader and the author are one and the same.
After time spent serving in World War II (writing and illustrating for the newspaper, as well as creating instructional comic pamphlets on the subject of machine maintenance), Eisner continued working for the military after his service, traveling to Korea and Vietnam. Last Day in Vietnam contains fictionalized accounts of his experiences during that time. This creates a unique perspective, of someone having experienced war writing about a war in which he was not directly involved. But as always with Eisner, the stories he tells are universal ones, and this universal nature strengthens one of the main themes of Last Day in Vietnam.
Historically, we have a tendency to simplify wars down to a few key components. The Civil War was "brother against brother", despite the fact that many Northerners held the same prejudiced/segregationist beliefs as the Confederacy. We revere those who fought in World War II as being part of "the greatest generation", despite the fact that the Allies--and the United States in particular--were also guilty of unsavory tactics and human rights violations. For someone like me, who has never experienced war, it's easy to think about and discuss the politics and morality of war without understanding what it's like to be in battle. Often, there is this feeling of "us" and "them": not "us" VS. "them", but "us" and "them", as if there's a fundamental difference between those who fight and those who don't.
To me, this feels especially prevalent in writings regarding the Vietnam war. It is my understanding that, in witnessing the carnage on their television sets, the United States turned against the Vietnam War as an American military endeavor, and shunned its veterans upon returning home. How could our soldiers do such atrocious things? Were they always capable of such acts, or did war change them? Could war change any of us? Works such as In the Lake of the Woods and Apocalypse Now show soldiers absolutely ruined by war, with no hope of assimilating back into "normal" society.
Eisner does something different. He focuses less on the aftermath, more on the events of the war itself. And instead of dissecting big offensives and climactic turns in battle, he turns his attention instead to the smaller details of wartime life. And these are not just soldiers: these are people. These are not just soldiers. When they look up at us from the pages, we know that we are them and they are us.
(It should be noted, by the way, that I've never seen M.A.S.H., though I assume it does something similar.)
The Vietnam War in Last Day in Vietnam is both lurking in the background and front-and-center. It informs the decisions of the characters' lives, but we never get a sense of how sinister the war effort truly is. Its implication informs the stories, but always as a lurking presence, something beyond our scope of comprehension, and indeed beyond the understanding of the characters speaking to us.
To go into any more detail, delving into individual stories, would, I think, ruin Eisner's effectiveness. He's not in the habit of crafting elaborate twists, but his monologues frequently lead to emotionally devastating conclusions: beautiful devastation that is worth experiencing with fresh eyes.
To me this is not Eisner's most compelling work, but make no mistake that it is compelling. If you've never read his stuff before, this is a fine introduction to a man who revolutionized a medium.