'Nam Killed Kurt Over Time v. 5

 

 

Photo: Life Magazine. Kurt's unit patrolled these hills. (Mutter's Ridge and the Rock Pile.) 

Some veterans die in battle while others return home to perish on the installment plan. My friend Kurt passed away in 2003 from liver cancer. He went quick, maybe a hundred days. The cancer was partially brought about by PTSD-inspired drinking coupled with hepatitis from a bad blood transfusion he underwent in Vietnam. Kurt could have skated on that particular war, but extended his enlistment in order to fight. Serving in Marine Recon, he won a Navy Commendation medal for helping his unit battle clear of an ambush.

Several Purple Hearts later, Kurt joined an ultra-secret outfit that probed the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos. Hacked out of the jungle, the Trail was a highway for the North Vietnamese to funnel men and supplies into South Vietnam and Cambodia. Because of our odd political posturing, Laos was officially off-limits to U.S. ground forces. That meant Kurt and his unofficial comrades were forced to ditch the bodies of their dead. The fallen would be listed as "Missing in Action in South Vietnam." It always bothered Kurt that families would be denied the closure of burial—or the recognition of bravery from a schizophrenic government.

A good portion of Kurt's post-war years were spent in alcohol and drug-fueled rage and self-destruction. In time, he made peace with his past. Little by-little, Kurt cut a trail over to serenity from which he rarely strayed. Despite a Master's Degree in electronics, he took a job driving a truck and fixing vending machines. (Kurt worked well unsupervised.) Getting married, buying a home, his last ten years were good ones.

I was a pallbearer at Kurt's funeral. He received a Marine Corps color guard, taps, and a view of the 2 Freeway stretching below in the distance, flowing past Forest Lawn Cemetery on its way to Eagle Rock. (Transportation played a big role in his life.) I recall Kurt when I drive past and often wish he could call down artillery on erratic drivers.

This Veteran's Day Kurt came to mind. And while he's at peace, I send prayers and best wishes to those still struggling with the silent baggage of war.

Happy Veteran's Day to all who served. You are remembered.

(This is a 2014 repost from Veteran's Day 2010 reposted once more in 2021, and now reposted in 2023.)

 

(And now 2024. I wish I could find the link, but there was a vet on YouTube who'd served in the Special Operations Group (S.O.G.) that conducted missions "over the fence" along the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos and Cambodia. It seems their missions were compromised by North Vietnamese spies employed by S.O.G.—not to mention the Walker Spy Ring—but also the capture of the spy vessel U.S.S. Pueblo by the North Koreans, allowed Russia, a North Vietnamese patron, to access our top secret conversations. Many missions never had a chance.) 

Dien Bien Phu 70th Anniversary

 (A repost from 2006, noting the battle which marked the start of America's journey into the Vietnam War.)

Today marks the 52nd anniversary of the Viet Minh attack on the French garrison at Dienbienphu — a remote valley in northern Vietnam near the border with Laos. The Viet Minh were an umbrella group of Vietnamese nationalists under the leadership of communist Ho Chi Minh. They had been fighting the colonial French, and other Vietnamese nationalist groups, since 1946.

The French viewed their position in a flat valley surrounded by hills as an offensive base. From there they would venture out and cut the Viet Minh supply lines, preempting an attack on Laos. As a result of this outlook, the garrison never out-posted the hills. They'd be attacking and, besides, it was impossible for the Vietnamese to haul any significant artillery up there.

Unaware of French opinion, the Vietnameses went ahead and hauled heavy artillery up onto the hills along with daunting amounts of anti-aircraft guns. On March 13, they let loose a barrage, followed by a human wave attack that engulfed a French strong point manned by crack Foreign Legionnaires. The fight was on.

For the next several months, while peace talks droned on in Geneva, the Vietnamese strangled the French. All French supplies had to come by parachute. The planes—many flown by American contract pilots— braved intense flak dropping their cargo. As the garrison was compressed, the drop zone grew smaller. Food and ammunition ran short. Meanwhile, generous supplies from nearby communist China—including American ordinance captured in Korea— enabled the Viet Minh to bombard their opponents at will.

Despite horrendous casualties, the Viet Minh seized one French strongpoint after another. Finally, on May 7, 1954, it ended. The French surrendered. Over 10,000 men marched into captivity, many of whom died in Viet Minh prison camps. French colonial rule in Vietnam and Laos ended. In 1955, Vietnam was partitioned into a communist north and a non-communist south along the 17th parallel.

Now back to running and writing stuff.