The American Privilege Issue

There is hardly a day that goes by that I don’t remember living in Southeast Asia for almost 2 years. According to my DD-214 (Certificate of Release or Discharge from Active Military Duty) it was exactly 651 days. What sparks this reoccurring memory is usually the fact that I have clean sheets, air conditioning, security, or potable water coming out of my faucet.

The old proverb that you never know what you have until it’s gone is very true, but in my case, it was and still is just the opposite. After experiencing the culture shock of leaving modern American life and being dropped into Third World country conditions, I got an instant education into American privilege. Notice I didn’t say white privilege? What I experienced affected all of us military folks who have lived this.

“People say you don't know what you've got until it’s gone. Truth is, you knew what you had; you just never thought you'd lose it, or frankly, took it for granted.”

I remember carrying a half dozen canteens over to the Security Police Squadron to fill them from a hanging canvas bag, G.I.’s referred to as a water buffalo. If I wanted potable water, this is where I had to go. My hootch room had one hanging light bulb, for which I was thankful and eventually I procured not one, but 2 oscillating fans to keep the room temperature bearable. Being in Base Supply had its perks, as hardly anyone had more than one fan.

Being stationed in the dreaded Cobra Triangle of Central Thailand, walking to the communal shower at night meant that it was a “Do I rinse off before I try to sleep, or just lay sweating?” conundrum. One way or the other, I was going to begin sweating within 15 minutes anyway, even with the fans. This meant that all night or day, depending on my schedule, I was going to toss and turn rotisserie style in my sleep, or cook on the bottom side.

“Appreciate what you have before it becomes what you had.”

My hootch had wooden slats that were screened and kept most critters out and those first months were fraught with anxiety, but we humans can learn to adapt to almost any condition – if we are forced to that is. Roaches the size of a pack of gum would sometimes crawl over me when I slept, or a large lizard would find its way in my small room. Occasionally other crawling things would come in goodly numbers and at first it really shook me. One time I sprayed one of these hug roaches with official C-130 aircraft insecticide, which was supposed to kill any bug trying to get back to the States on a free ride.

After 30 minutes, I squashed it with my jungle boot and this was after it jumped, flew, and crawled all over the room, flicking its wings. It was an impressive display and one that was quite educational and I’ll be honest and say I never took my eyes off it.  Months into my double deployment, I would squash a crawling bug in my half sleep, toss it on the floor and rolling over, go back to sleep.

“Don't take things for granted because they might not be there tomorrow.”

I remember coming back to the States and marveling at how rich of a country we had. The year was 1974 and everywhere I looked were new cars and signs of prosperity. People owned a lot of stuff and guess what? None of that has changed. In fact, we own 2 and 3 times more now than then. Every car has air conditioning and automatic transmissions. People have so much food, they could literally live on half what they eat. Every person here is privileged, make no mistake about it and don’t let some rich athlete or entertainer try to convince you otherwise. They need to hop on a jet airplane and be dropped off in a stinking jungle like we were and have the same options we did and by golly, they will change their tune right quick.

Belly aching and whining is for wimpy over-paid elitists looking for a cause that most of us don’t want to hear about. They live the life of luxury and can afford to lose endorsements while they get by on their 19 or 30 million dollar salaries. They can’t be content to take their kids crabbing, or spend the night in a tent after sitting around a campfire in one of our beautiful State parks. They have to act up and regardless of their constitutional right; they appear to be what they are – overpaid elitists, using their status to draw attention to something they can’t really relate to.

They’ve lost sight of what they have and live in a fantasy world where they think they represent those of us who still appreciate the small conveniences and blessings. They don’t represent me. If they really want to make a difference, there are better ways than acting in such a manner as to divide this great country. Anyone can become a rock in a shoe, but it takes someone special to have the vision of an ambassador and act on it.

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My Overseas cap is off to Veterans

Veteran’s day has come and gone and I attended the excellent observation here in Baytown once again. Veteran’s day is a happy occasion, unlike Memorial Day; at least not to me. Today, I won’t go into the history of the holiday or any of that well-beaten path.

As a history buff of the Vietnam War and having served 2 tours in Southeast Asia during the long war, I feel as qualified as the next to talk about what a Veteran is. Of course, when it comes to the Vietnam War, there are a couple of distinctions. The first is the military that served “in country” which comprised 4 countries in SEA.

Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, and Thailand were all at war against the communists and all 4 countries lost military personnel and many, many civilians. Every Veteran is issued on discharge a form called a DD-214 and if they can’t produce one, I have my doubts about their military service. Sorry, but there are charlatans among us.

The second group is known as Vietnam Era veterans. This means they served during the conflict, but never made it to Indochina. If they served honorably, I see no distinction in their status from my own.

I served during a time of the Draft and I’ll be honest and say that motivation by some was nil. Others were downright criminals, who ran off into the service to avoid the law or jail time. What I did see in SEA was everyone doing their job regardless if they wanted to be there or not and this is one reason, I often shake my head over claims that Vietnam Vets were abused when they returned.

I never expected one benefit for my time served there, which was right at 651 days of sweating in the jungle environment with bugs crawling on me some nights. I did my job and I did what I signed up for; nothing more, nothing less. I didn’t have a pity party when I never received a single care package from well-wishers, or felt lonely because the USO with Bob Hope skipped by our Base. I passed 2 Christmas’ without a package from home, but never doubted that they loved me. It was a different time.

I saw it as the adventure of a lifetime; an experience I couldn’t get in Texas and still do. I made lifetime friends from Valdosta to Seattle and still communicate with them. My friends retired from the military, but tell me their time at Takhli RTAFB was the highlight of their long careers.

Was it like that when I landed there? Heck no! I had a feeling of deep depression, especially when the heat and humidity exceeded what I was used to here in the Houston area. The war was going full blast and all those days later when I left, we were still “bombing them back to the Stone Age”.

I do not see myself as a hero or a victim and frankly, any Vietnam Veteran who is still standing around milking sympathy for the “abuse they wrongfully suffered” when they came home is immediately suspect to me. I want to see their DD-214 form. Get over it!  Move on!  Geeze. Are they going to spend the rest of their lives walking around playing poor pitiful Pearl?

I’ve said it before; I’ve never met a real Vietnam Veteran who wants sympathy and mine Gott, how many times do we need to be welcomed home? A simple “Thank you for your service” suffices and is always welcomed. The reoccurring claim of being called a baby killer or being spit upon makes me angry. Are we seriously being led to believe that someone returning from service in a war zone is going to take that flat-footed?  I don’t think so.

 Did it happen? Possibly, but only in a few cases and the chances of you bumping into one of these unfortunate disabled airmen, sailors, soldiers or Marines is remote. I say disabled, because they simply must have been physically unable to knock someone’s teeth down their throat to take a slight that large.

As a Vietnam Vet, I refuse to appear at any military service looking like Forrest Gump’s Lt. Dan in tattered pieces of uniform. To me it makes Vietnam Vets look like dysfunctional derelicts and that war ended 45 years ago! 

My hat is off to the many proactive Veterans like Jerry Johnson, Ren Fitts, Conrad Garcia, and the local VFW who represent Veterans for what they truly are - a person who was willing to risk their lives and future so we can remain the great free country our fore-fathers envisioned.

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