: Rick Ritter, Paul Richards
: Made in America, Sold in the Nam A Continuing Legacy of Pain
: Modern History Press
: 9781615999163
: 1
: CHF 8.30
:
: Zeitgeschichte (1945 bis 1989)
: English
: 288
: DRM
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB

Hope and Healing For All Who Have Been Touched by War
For Viet Nam Vets: an opportunity to verify their experiences against experiences of others leading to validation and perhaps even an airing of their suspicions and fears about themselves. No matter how long it has been, healing is possible.
For Families of the KIA: peace and understanding about the experiences of their loved one and if they have letters from their loved ones, perhaps a way to fill in what could never be spoken.
For Adult Children and Spouses of Vets: empathy for their war experience, in spite of whether or not there has been communication about how it really went down.
For Vets of Recent Conflicts: a shortcut to understanding the overall experience of war and how one copes with its indelible marks. Discover the commonality of those who have endured their time as warriors.
For Society and Generations to come:
Learn what really happens during a modern military conflict. A plea for wisdom in how we deal with other peoples on Earth. A chance to break the cycle of doing the same things and hoping for magically different outcomes.
'That there is conflict and confusion over how we are to view the Viet Nam War and how we are to feel about those who sacrificed for this effort, makes this book all the more important. These pieces give the average person insight into what really happened to those that served and what they thought that they were trying to accomplish. There is some personal truth, buried emotion, and a few heroes in their own right.'
--Tami Brady, TCM Reviews
1The Molting Dream
By Dennis L. Grigar

MARCH 1969: A week's worth of mild rain and warm winds has just about eliminated any traces of winter, but all around us tight groups of people huddle together. Perhaps they're sharing the secrets and promises that strengthen the bonds of family—I can't tell, and won't find out this time around. Mom stands nearby, torn between my nervous tension and Dad's outright impatience to have it over with. We're in Alma, Michigan, standing on the sidewalk by a squat cinder block building that houses my draft board, waiting for the busses.

When they finally arrive, twenty minutes late, Dad assumes it's time to go, so he walks up to me and pushes out his hand. I offer mine and am awed by the differences between us. He grabs me in his enormous clutch and shakes me as if to test the feel of a wrench. I don't like it but he won't let go; he's got something to say, something just for me.

“Well, good luck, and I hope they make a man out of you.” His eyes bore into me, wanting to make sure I get the point. I get it alright, and it hurts. When I turn away from him to kiss Mom goodbye there are tears in my eyes. They leave soon after, but the busses don't go for another forty minutes, so already I'm on the outside looking in.

Eighteen hours later, in a cold and crummy barracks at Ft. Knox, Kentucky, a soldier stands inches away from my face screaming at me to cut my moustache RIGHT NOW! Tired and disoriented, I start to move from instinct, and luckily move in the right direction. RUN is the command, so I run, certain now of where and what I am. It's the one-sided handshake again, and I'm on the ass end. Nothing has changed.

• • • • •

NOVEMBER 1969: Hand carrying orders for Viet Nam, I check into a camp someplace in Maryland for Combat Orientation. For the next eight days the United States Army is going to convert me from a humble clerk typist into a jungle savvied warrior. I believe from the outset that this will be a large crock of shit, and I'm right.

We get up early every day and go through the motions of warming up our bodies. If it's raining (and it was for five out of the eight days) we stay indoors and do jumping jacks in front of our bunks. Some of the older fellas with three or more stripes on their arms seem disinterested by the warm-up sessions, more often than not they skip this part to go take a dump or clean up. I've notice