Reading about My Lai can make you lose faith in humanity, but even in the darkness there is light – the gruesome story that unfolded in the South Vietnamese village had its heroes among its villains. Hugh Clowers Thompson Jr. is one such hero. He is forgotten, as the book's title suggests, so Trent Angers's attempt to evoke his courageous acts from the shameful history of My Lai, an event that most prefer to forget, is an important contribution to the existing Vietnam scholarship.
As Angers narrates, Thompson was a reconnaissance pilot with the 123rd Aviation Battalion aeroscouts, who skimmed around battle zones, hunting out enemy defensive positions with his helicopter. He was known to everyone in his unit for being cocky and aggressive, yet he also was an exceptional pilot. Although he did not court danger, he was not afraid of confronting the Viet Cong. He knew when to engage and when to get out of the way. He was considered ruthless, but he actually did not want to brutalize the enemy or make them endure unnecessary suffering. For instance, unlike many soldiers who regarded every fleeing person as the enemy, he did not fire at anyone simply because they were running away. He demanded to see a weapon first.
Thompson was good-looking – tall, dark, and handsome – fitting the image of a hotshot aviator. He was also well liked and respected by those who worked with him. The son of a former Navy Reserve, he followed in his father's steps, but after seeing an advertising billboard with the picture of a man next to a helicopter, he decided that he would like to fly one and went to the Army's recruiting office. He was trained and then, in 1967, dispatched to Vietnam as a helicopter pilot.
As the author accounts, Thompson and his companions – his crew chief, Glenn Andreotta, and Lawrence Colburn, a teen door gunner – believed that My Lai would be just another mission. They were on board an observation chopper as per usual. On other combat operations, Thompson had landed to pick up Viet Cong men and fly them back to the fire base for interrogation. He expected to do the same in My Lai. However, as he was looking at the hamlet and the territory around it from above, he realized that they were not receiving enemy fire and that there were hardly any Viet Cong suspects to pick up. He marked several people on the ground with green smoke, which signaled that they were wounded, and left to refuel.
To Thompson's surprise, when he returned, the marked wounded were dead, and there were more groups of dead bodies piled up. In the paddy field next to the village, Colburn and he saw a small group of soldiers approach an injured young woman. Thompson had marked her with smoke. They were flying close enough for Colburn, who did not want to look at the dead, to see her face. She made a feeble gesture with her hand and was obviously in need of help. Thompson put the aircraft into a standstill hover, only a few feet off the ground. The ground forces were informed on the radio that there were wounded where the helicopter was hovering. An infantry officer came up to the woman, prodded her with his foot, and killed her. Thompson and his crew could not believe their eyes.
From then on, Thompson's bewilderment and anger only grew. Minutes after he witnessed the killing of the young woman, he saw dozens of wounded dumped in the irrigation ditch on the eastern side of the village and a group of Americans relaxing nearby. Puzzled at how the wounded had ended in the ditch, Thompson landed the helicopter and asked a sergeant how they could help. The sergeant told him calmly that the only way to help was to put the wounded out of their misery. Baffled, Thompson questioned Liutenant Calley, who came to speak with him, about what was happening on the ground. Calley told him that it was none of his business because he was the one in charge of the ground troops. As Thompson testified later, it was then that he started to suspect the worst.
As soon as he lifted off the ground again, his crew chief confirmed his suspicions – the same sergeant whom Thompson had questioned first was shooting the wounded in the ditch. The scene reminded Thompson of the Nazis, who marched people to ditches and shot them. For him, this was the giddy limit.
As he spotted a small group of civilians, including children, being pursued by members of the 2nd Platoon, Thompson knew precisely what would happen once the soldiers caught up to the civilians. Another person would have given it a second thought, but Thompson landed the helicopter straight between the villagers and the soldiers and, without a moment of hesitation, ordered the bewildered Colburn to turn his machine gun on the Americans if they began shooting the villagers. "Open up on 'em-blow 'em away," Thompson urged him. Colburn turned his gun to face the Americans. He was concerned that landing in the middle of the combat zone jeopardized the crew's safety, but Thompson was unstoppable. He personally got the civilians out of the bunker that they were trying to hide in. He swore, cursed, and pleaded with the aerocrew to come down and help rescue the civilians until eventually other helicopters landed, stopping the massacre and rescuing as many civilians as possible. Had it not been for him, many more innocent people would have been butchered in My Lai.
According to Colburn, by the time the villagers were evacuated, Thompson and his crew had been in the midst of the massacre for about twenty minutes, and Thompson had still refused to leave to safety unless they passed by the irrigation ditch. As they did so, Andreotta shouted that he could see something moving, so they landed. Covering Colburn and Andreotta with a machine gun, Thompson approached to the edge of the ditch. The sight, as the author depicts it, was horrendous – a hundred dead men, women, and children. Bodies were scattered along the edges of the ditch. There was blood, filth, and stench everywhere. Whoever saw that could not doubt that a mass execution had taken place. Andreotta made his way into the ditch and rescued a child who was miraculously unscathed but in a state of shock. Thompson, who had a son about the same age, was heartbroken and decided to fly immediately to the ARVN hospital in Quang Ngai. As Colburn remembered later, it was the second time that day that he had seen Thompson cry. When they returned to the landing zone, Thompson climbed out of his aircaft and threw his helmet on the ground.
He had all the reasons to do so. Despite his testimony and those of Colburn, Andreotta, and the pilots of the other helicopters who had landed to help Thompson rescue the civilians, the only thing that the commanders did at the time was to demand from Medina, who oversaw Calley and his men's atrocities at the time, to confirm that nothing of what the pilots were reporting was true. It was not until 1970 that Thompson and his crew got to testify against Calley, Medina, and the rest of the war criminals during the My Lai investigation. After everyone but Calley was acquitted, the Army, uncomfortable with the truth, buried the memory of Thompson's heroism together with the memory of the massacre. Thompson was even condemned by some in the military for his role in the investigation. The brave pilot divorced and suffered from nightmares, post-traumatic stress disorder, and alcoholism. My Lai haunted him for the rest of his life, but he still served in the Army until 1983, and then continued making a living as a helicopter pilot.
THE FORGOTTEN HERO OF MY LAI tells the tragic and inspiring story of Hugh Thompson in vivid detail. Angers combines brilliant writing with meticulous research. This book is not for the faint of heart. It touches and shocks in equal measure.