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Chuck Hagel: Serving in Vietnam — With My Brother Chuck Hagel: Serving in Vietnam — With My Brother
(7 days later)
Fifty years ago this month, I landed at Tan Son Nhut Airport near Saigon in the Republic of Vietnam. I recall the bus ride taking us from Travis Air Force Base in California to board the plane. The bus was full of young innocent Army privates, having no idea what awaited us in this faraway Southeast Asian land. At 21, I was one of the oldest on the bus of 19-year-olds. One memory of that trip that has never faded was the large boombox radios that many of the troops carried with them. The songs that blared out from those music boxes during my tour included Otis Redding’s “Dock of the Bay” and Aretha Franklin’s “Respect.” I would hear those songs and others for the next 12 months in Vietnam. Music was a defining part of our Vietnam experience. Music was our lifeline.Fifty years ago this month, I landed at Tan Son Nhut Airport near Saigon in the Republic of Vietnam. I recall the bus ride taking us from Travis Air Force Base in California to board the plane. The bus was full of young innocent Army privates, having no idea what awaited us in this faraway Southeast Asian land. At 21, I was one of the oldest on the bus of 19-year-olds. One memory of that trip that has never faded was the large boombox radios that many of the troops carried with them. The songs that blared out from those music boxes during my tour included Otis Redding’s “Dock of the Bay” and Aretha Franklin’s “Respect.” I would hear those songs and others for the next 12 months in Vietnam. Music was a defining part of our Vietnam experience. Music was our lifeline.
By 1967, soldiers were being sent to Vietnam as individuals to fill vacancies, not as units that had trained and lived together before they arrived in country. What struck me on the bus ride and our flight was how alone each individual was, as we were getting to know one another. I would come to realize how quickly that loneliness disappeared — because we each would soon become members of our new families in Army units spread across Vietnam.By 1967, soldiers were being sent to Vietnam as individuals to fill vacancies, not as units that had trained and lived together before they arrived in country. What struck me on the bus ride and our flight was how alone each individual was, as we were getting to know one another. I would come to realize how quickly that loneliness disappeared — because we each would soon become members of our new families in Army units spread across Vietnam.
My own loneliness was soon interrupted by my brother Tom, who had also volunteered for service in Vietnam rather than accept orders for Germany. Tom joined my unit — Company B, 2nd Battalion, 47th Infantry, Ninth Infantry Division — soon after the start of the Tet offensive. He had been serving with the 3rd Squadron, 5th Cavalry, attached to Col. George S. Patton’s 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment near the demilitarized zone. We both welcomed the opportunity to serve together, especially since it was uncommon. The so-called Sullivan Brothers rule from World War II prohibited two members of the same immediate family from serving together in a combat zone. (The five Sullivans served together on a ship that was sunk, and all five brothers were lost.) But because we both volunteered to go to Vietnam, the rule was waived. How we came to serve together side by side, in the same unit, remains a mystery.My own loneliness was soon interrupted by my brother Tom, who had also volunteered for service in Vietnam rather than accept orders for Germany. Tom joined my unit — Company B, 2nd Battalion, 47th Infantry, Ninth Infantry Division — soon after the start of the Tet offensive. He had been serving with the 3rd Squadron, 5th Cavalry, attached to Col. George S. Patton’s 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment near the demilitarized zone. We both welcomed the opportunity to serve together, especially since it was uncommon. The so-called Sullivan Brothers rule from World War II prohibited two members of the same immediate family from serving together in a combat zone. (The five Sullivans served together on a ship that was sunk, and all five brothers were lost.) But because we both volunteered to go to Vietnam, the rule was waived. How we came to serve together side by side, in the same unit, remains a mystery.
Our new home for the next 10 months would be the Mekong Delta, where we were wounded twice together. Tom was wounded a third time. Being small-town Nebraska boys, what we knew about war came from our World War II veteran father, our World War II veteran uncles, and books and movies. But we soon learned about the realities and horrors of war — as we witnessed the worst and best of human behavior.Our new home for the next 10 months would be the Mekong Delta, where we were wounded twice together. Tom was wounded a third time. Being small-town Nebraska boys, what we knew about war came from our World War II veteran father, our World War II veteran uncles, and books and movies. But we soon learned about the realities and horrors of war — as we witnessed the worst and best of human behavior.
I remember when I saw my first sustained combat in the early morning hours of Jan. 30, 1968. It was the beginning of the Tet offensive. At the time, no one understood the strength of the enemy or their countrywide strategy. We were not aware that what was happening was the most powerful coordinated attack by North Vietnamese and Viet Cong forces since the beginning of the war. Even the headquarters of Gen. William Westmoreland, the commander of American forces in Vietnam, located at Long Binh — the largest ammo dump in the world —were under attack. My mechanized unit was ordered to engage the enemy at a place called Widow’s Village, across from Westmoreland’s headquarters. By the end of the day, my battalion had lost many of its officers and noncommissioned officers, either killed or wounded. I remember when I saw my first sustained combat in the early morning hours of Jan. 30, 1968. It was the beginning of the Tet offensive. At the time, no one understood the strength of the enemy or their countrywide strategy. We were not aware that what was happening was the most powerful coordinated attack by North Vietnamese and Viet Cong forces since the beginning of the war. Even the headquarters of Gen. William Westmoreland, the commander of American forces in Vietnam, located at Long Binh — the largest ammo dump in the world —were under attack. My mechanized unit was ordered to engage the enemy at a place called Widow’s Village, across from the Army’s headquarters. By the end of the day, my battalion had lost many of its officers and noncommissioned officers, either killed or wounded.
On that day almost 50 years ago, I learned about uncommon valor and unselfish heroic acts. I learned much about myself. I learned all I would ever need to know about bravery that would anchor me the rest of my life. Machines don’t fight wars. People do. Those who survive wars are either embittered or inspired to help make a better world. Vietnam veterans chose the latter course, as America’s veterans have always done. War gives one clarity — it helps you see what is really important in life. Vietnam veterans did the job their country asked them to do. Their commitment to one another and their individual common decency and belief in their country sustained them.On that day almost 50 years ago, I learned about uncommon valor and unselfish heroic acts. I learned much about myself. I learned all I would ever need to know about bravery that would anchor me the rest of my life. Machines don’t fight wars. People do. Those who survive wars are either embittered or inspired to help make a better world. Vietnam veterans chose the latter course, as America’s veterans have always done. War gives one clarity — it helps you see what is really important in life. Vietnam veterans did the job their country asked them to do. Their commitment to one another and their individual common decency and belief in their country sustained them.
We are each products of our experiences. Every important decision I made during my time in the Senate and as secretary of defense was influenced by my experiences in Vietnam. That January day 50 years ago showed me that there is uncommon courage all around us every day. Many times we don’t recognize it — because those who perform these uncommon acts do it not for praise or recognition but rather for higher purposes than their own self-interests. It is the belief that we each can make the world a little better in our own way, one person at a time.We are each products of our experiences. Every important decision I made during my time in the Senate and as secretary of defense was influenced by my experiences in Vietnam. That January day 50 years ago showed me that there is uncommon courage all around us every day. Many times we don’t recognize it — because those who perform these uncommon acts do it not for praise or recognition but rather for higher purposes than their own self-interests. It is the belief that we each can make the world a little better in our own way, one person at a time.
I’ve always believed that the greatest responsibility of leaders is to leave their institutions and those they lead better than they found them — to serve as role models. I’ve often heard from our servicemen and women today, and from Iraq and Afghanistan veterans, that they looked to the Vietnam veterans for courage and inspiration. Vietnam veterans did serve as role models. They are now the senior statesmen of the veterans community, as were the World War II and Korean War veterans before them.I’ve always believed that the greatest responsibility of leaders is to leave their institutions and those they lead better than they found them — to serve as role models. I’ve often heard from our servicemen and women today, and from Iraq and Afghanistan veterans, that they looked to the Vietnam veterans for courage and inspiration. Vietnam veterans did serve as role models. They are now the senior statesmen of the veterans community, as were the World War II and Korean War veterans before them.
The Vietnam War changed every institution in this country. It was the first time the nation began to question its government and its leaders. The lies and deceit practiced during that volatile time in our country also brought to light social injustice and a system that had ignored it for too long. The Vietnam War and the times drove two American presidents from office. America survived, but many Americans paid a terrible price for it all — starting with the 58,000 soldiers listed on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial wall who paid with their lives.The Vietnam War changed every institution in this country. It was the first time the nation began to question its government and its leaders. The lies and deceit practiced during that volatile time in our country also brought to light social injustice and a system that had ignored it for too long. The Vietnam War and the times drove two American presidents from office. America survived, but many Americans paid a terrible price for it all — starting with the 58,000 soldiers listed on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial wall who paid with their lives.
America learned a painful national lesson. But we became a better country through it all. One of the primary lessons learned during those years of war and national unrest was that we must always hold our leaders accountable. Character, honesty and principles matter. They are not debatable virtues. If we fail to stay true to that governing North Star of leadership, as we did during the Vietnam War years, we will again fail our country. The men and women who gave their lives for their country in Vietnam, and in all our wars, deserve better.America learned a painful national lesson. But we became a better country through it all. One of the primary lessons learned during those years of war and national unrest was that we must always hold our leaders accountable. Character, honesty and principles matter. They are not debatable virtues. If we fail to stay true to that governing North Star of leadership, as we did during the Vietnam War years, we will again fail our country. The men and women who gave their lives for their country in Vietnam, and in all our wars, deserve better.