Phoenix: Memoirs from Vietnam

by J.R. Nelson

Next time you are lounging in your leather recliner for an early evening snooze, take yourself into another dimension. In this dimension, you are 17, 18, or 19 years old. You have a little peach fuzz on your face, but are not yet able to grow a real beard. Just last year you were the star quarterback on the high school football team. You are in the prime of your life. Although you are surrounded by men; men who are the best friends you will have in your entire life; in many respects you are all alone. In this dimension there are other men, known collectively as “the enemy”, but more commonly as “gooks”, “dinks”, “VC”, “Cong”, and a myriad of other names. Their entire reason for existence is to kill you. In this dimension you and your friends go to work every day, but some of you don’t come home after the job is done. In this dimension, every breath you take could be your last, and you don’t dare get too close to your friends; your brothers; because they, too are vulnerable and may cease to exist at any moment. In this dimension nothing is sure; you can’t count on anything or anyone. In this dimension, even your blood relatives and loved ones in the real world have turned their backs on you. They disapprove of everything you do and tell you so regularly in no uncertain terms. In this dimension there is no escape from the stifling heat or the elements. Some times it is so hot you can’t even breathe. “Sleep” is a word you can’t relate to; an abstract. Your feet are always wet and raw, your groin is burning from chaffing and crotch rot, you have a sore asshole from dysentery (not to men tion pucker factor), your legs are scratched and torn from razor grass, and your shoulders are burning and your back aches from carrying a 90 pound rucksack for the last eight (sixteen hour) days. In this dimension you are often covered with blood; sometimes that of your best friend, but more often you don’t have a clue who it belongs too. You hope it isn’t yours. The worst ogres and monsters that have ever existed share this dimension with you. Your only way out of hell is death, injury, or, if you are really lucky, to run the gauntlet and survive. If for a moment you can take your-self into this dimension, you might imagine that you know what being a grunt in Vietnam was like. You are not even close.

220 pages, Kindle Edition

Published March 20, 2020