Return to Vietnam: Unification, Forgiveness, and Peace

Return to Vietnam documentary, 2019. Produced by Whisenhunt Media.

Joe, Vietnam veteran, swift boat crew, U.S. Navy, 1969:

I left in 1969 for swift boat duty and it was a pretty lonely feeling. I had no idea what the hell I was getting into other than I knew I was going to land in the middle of a war.

My daily thought when I woke up in the morning was first to thank God I was alive. And then how am I going to get through today? It's the not knowing that gets to you, the feeling that you're never safe anywhere, at any time.

[On the Kidnap Canal ambush, March 7, 1969:]

I was stationed in Da Nang, and we patrolled from just south of Da Nang all the way up to the DMZ. We were sent into the Kidnap Canal via the Bay Hap River. I didn't know what the hell was around the next corner. And of course, I'm in the front of the boat — the very bow.

We got almost to a village that was on our port side, which would be the left. Then a rocket came flying across from the starboard side. Shrapnel went everywhere and my injured man got hit in the arm with a piece of shrapnel in his bicep. We turned around. Those two boats burnt that village to the ground.

The following day, they returned only to find themselves in more danger. A rocket came through the side of the boat, went to the refrigerator, came out the front of the freezer, and hit the fire extinguisher in the cabin. Then another rocket hit the back cabin of the boat and the shrapnel just went everywhere. I actually had blood coming out my ears. I was scared. I don't mind admitting it. I was afraid back then, and I remembered that I was afraid. I was not afraid this time. But I remembered the feeling.

[On the question of returning, 50 years later:]

One of my jobs allowed me to have an office in Singapore. Every time I flew to Singapore, I'd fly over Vietnam. I would look down at it and say to myself, do I need to go back? Do I want to go back? What would I see? What would I do? I thought about it often — going back and passing out candy instead of bullets, in the village we burnt down.

I decided no, I don't think I need to go back. But then I realized there's a hole in my travel and it's Vietnam. It's going to fill in a blank spot. That's what I think. Simple answer, but that's what I feel.

[Meeting the villagers at the Kidnap Canal, 50 years later:]

I came here. I come in peace this time. We were enemies in the past but now, yes, friends. We shake our hand for our friend.

What I would like to say is that I, I got to — I came here, I come in peace this time. Yeah. And I like android — we were enemies in the past but now. Yes, friends now we are.

It was wonderful to meet them in peace after all these years. My heart goes out to them because this was their backyard. I mean, I tried to put the situation in reverse. What if they were in my house, in Ohio, burning down my house? I would not like that.

To find the exact spot and the people that were involved in the ambush was unbelievable.

[After the Kidnap Canal visit:]

For the last two months I've been crying at home thinking about it. I didn't know what I was going to say. What do I say to somebody at home I burned down 50 years ago? That's whatever I said — it just came to me. And I think it's because they didn't hold anything against me. Even the one old lady — she told me she was 14 years old when I burned her home down. And she wasn't angry with me.

[Planting a tree in the new village:]

That's who was present for it. And it made me feel wonderful. I feel friendship and peace. It's sad that it ever had to happen, but we move on. It's been 50 years since I've been here, and I hope 50 years from now Madeleine comes and visits.

The fact that I was accepted by all of those people after what we had all been through — I consider myself a victim of that war. I was a victim of my government. Because until the day somebody can give me a valid reason why I was there, why we gave 58,222 men, I'll continue to feel that way.

John, Vietnam veteran, combat medic, 1st Battalion 5th Mechanized Infantry, 25th Infantry Division "Tropic Lightning":

The reason they made me a medic is I told them I'm really against not only the war, but against killing, and that I really didn't want to be a part of that. I didn't carry a weapon the whole time because I knew my boys were all going to protect me. They wanted me alive more than I wanted me alive at the time.

To me it was just another event. Something that happened. I guess I had just become numb, which most of us did, because it hurt too much to feel. I don't talk about the war much. I've got it locked up in a little box in there, and I know where it is. I can go to it if I need it, but it doesn't dominate me. And I'm going to always have a mistress. And that's Vietnam itself. That's never left.

I remember my father once. He said, "Was it bad?" I said, "Yes." That was the only thing he ever knew about what I did.

My mother died in January. She never knew. I never told her.

[On returning to the Black Virgin Mountain:]

When we came out of town, I hadn't shown you that picture of the Black Virgin Mountain, and I knew that we were probably going to see it at some point. And the first time I saw it, it was an immediate — right back in there. And it worked amazingly, just like it did 50 years ago.

As we got closer and it got bigger in the frame, I got more emotional about it, starting to think about what went on at the base of it and the top of it and in between. And so it was an immediate icon that I could gravitate to that says, I'm here.

[Describing his worst combat experience — an RPG ambush in a rubber plantation:]

There were bodies everywhere. And in my mind, I think there were 80 to 90 people dead. We had, I think, 175 people in the whole train.

I hear the word medic. I get my bag, and I head out, running across the middle of the circle, heading for the soldier, and an RPG hit next to me, and I hear somebody say, "Doc, doc, you're hit!"

There was no other medic to service me, so I was awake enough to tell them what to do. What had happened was a piece of metal — about an inch and a quarter, very jagged — had gone into my neck, tumbled, tore out my nerves and stopped a quarter of an inch from my jugular vein. So my first thought was, this is it, my ticket home. And about two weeks later we were short of medics and they sent me out again. So my wound that I thought was my ticket home was nothing more than a little delay.

[At Cu Chi tunnels:]

I realized all of these guys in my company, my squad, my platoon, that I had become dear, dear friends with — and then this battle, I lost like three of them. And I said to myself, I can't go forward investing so much in these people. If they were just numbers or strangers, maybe it would be easier for me. So I went to my men and I said, you know me as doc. I said, if you love me as much as you say you do, you can't burden me with your life. Because when you're gone, I'll still have that. Unless you're hurt, don't call me.

[Walking through the jungle at Cu Chi:]

Walking through the jungle was very much as if I was here then in 1968. There was no long-term thought of today, years in the future, or after the war. It was really about just getting through today. Not stepping on anything, not getting hurt, and being there for other people because I was a medic. So my responsibility was to be there so that I could help other people.

[After Cu Chi — on whether veterans should return:]

I'll be 100% honest with you. I became very upset watching the film at the Cu Chi museum. I came here in peace. What happened 50 years ago was not good for anybody. And I couldn't understand why the people of Vietnam would feel the way they do. But the men that I fought with — those are my brothers. We were pawns in this game, and it hurt me to watch a film where they were telling us that this woman received a medal for killing 15 American soldiers. That hurt me.

[Final reflection:]

Now, when I lay my head on the pillow, I think of Mr. Bang and me sitting together, and my granddaughter. That's a lot nicer thought.

What will I say to veterans if they ask me if they should return or not? It's a very hard question. Every soldier is different, and their experiences were different, and their horrors were different, and their losses were different. I think other soldiers, many other soldiers, couldn't take it. It wouldn't be good for them. The only thing I can tell them is — the people will welcome you. There's no war anymore. It was okay for me to come.

[Documentary narrator / producer:]

One of the things that the Vietnamese can do for the Americans — and I've seen this over and over — is they can help them heal. They can help them find peace by forgiving them for what they did. This is common when veterans go over. So many of them want to say, I'm sorry. I never thought about the fact that you were someone else's son and that your life was as important as mine. And that, I think, is one of the most beautiful things I've seen as part of this experience.

What I hope is that veterans, when they go back to Vietnam, become more whole. By that I mean they can heal an emotional wound, and that they can find the answers to questions that have lingered within them for so long.