We’re proud to announce the hardcover edition is finally completed. Click on the image below to purchase on Amazon.com
Interview on Reader Views
Today, Tyler R. Tichelaar of Reader Views is pleased to interview Victor R. Volkman, Marc Levy, Tom Skiens and Tony Swindell who are here to talk about the new book “More than a Memory: Reflections of Viet Nam.”
|
|
Victor R. Volkman is Senior Editor of Modern History Press, a publishing house dedicated to empowering authors to speak about surviving conflict and seeking identity in modern times. Although not a veteran of any service, he is committed to seeing veterans’ stories told. |
|
|
Marc Levy served with Delta 1/7 Cav as an infantry medic in Viet Nam and Cambodia in 1970. He was decorated once for gallantry, twice for valor, and twice court-martialed. His prose, poetry and essays have been published in various online and print journals, most recently on counterpunch.org. In 2001 he was selected to attend an ACA residence. A video of his war experiences, “The Real Deal,” is distributed by The Cinema Guild. |
|
|
Tom Skiens joined the 11th light infantry brigade in Hawaii, September 1967 a year out of high school. Tom became the 4.2 inch Forward Observer (FO) for Charlie Company, 4th Battalion 3d Infantry Regiment on the USS General Gordon seven days before they arrived in Viet Nam. He later attended Southern Oregon State College from 1969 through 1974. He has conducted 50 critical incident debriefings which provided trauma related information to over 600 people. He also brought the drug free workplace program to the National Forest where he worked. This led to four interventions. Tom has given classes and trained others about substance abuse and critical incident stress. |
|
|
Tony Swindell served with the 31st PID, 11th Light Infantry Brigade (LIB), Americal Division, during 1968-69. His unit participated in the My Lai massacre in Pinkville in 1968, and he was later a witness to incidents involving the murder of Vietnamese civilians by brigade commander Col. John W. Donaldson. He is currently an editor at the Sherman, Texas, Herald Democrat. |
Tyler: Welcome, Victor, Marc and Tom. I’m happy you could join me today. Let’s begin by your telling me about what is contained in “More Than a Memory”-are they individual recollections of the Viet Nam War? Continue reading Interview on Reader Views
And a B-52 for you
By Tom Skiens
In October 1968 I got a punji stick in my left knee while conducting a combat assault with Charley Company of the 4/3 Inf. I found the punji stick by a large gray moss and debris covered rock I was hiding behind.
I was hiding behind the rock because that’s what I always did when I reached the destination of a combat assault. I would get off the chopper, hide behind a rock or tree, or a piece of bamboo or an anthill or a chick dressed up like a rice paddy Dyke on a motorcycle. I could hide behind a single blade of grass, Or you or him. I was determined to hide behind something because that’s how the army had trained me.
Even though I was an expert at hiding I always liked to be on the first lift of a combat assault. Maybe then I would catch some shit and get out of the bush in a half-way, sort of respectful manner. It never occurred to me that I could die again. Hell, I had already died once.
So I am hiding behind this rock covered with debris from the two B-52s who, 1/2 hour earlier, had dropped half their load in this huge valley that had its mouth pointing in a northeasterly direction.
The B-52’s did a 180 and dropped the rest of their load in the valley. “C” and “D” companies were far enough away to be safe but close enough to be impressed. We could feel the shaking of the earth like God taking command of the planet with a completely controlling hand and moving it about. The sound was a deep, deep rumble unlike the sharp smacking sound of artillery or the air moving freight train sound of 16 inch rounds as they passed overhead. This sound was God awful death from 40,000 feet. Hundreds of bombs going off individually and combining into one move the earth rumble.
Continue reading And a B-52 for you
Betty
Betty
By: Tom Skiens
Have you heard about Betty
She’s a bouncer from the land of ville s
The first time that I met her
Was at the bottom of an old ROK hill
The ROK’s long since departed
some wire and Betty remain
The point diddy bopped right over the top
but not Scully and Hall, what a shame
Its a hot date, our first time with Betty
She dropped ten men in a row
The eleventh in line was Zimmerman
learning things he didn’t want to know
The Zimmer Man and I
Well we got to walk the line
I be judging the size of Betty’s holes
On the radio with the Captain all the time
We be needing two choppers for the dust off
One bird can’t lift all this weight
We have two that are in no hurry
They be lined up at the pearly gate
The Zimmer Man and I
We be prancing down the line
You with the 2″ hole in the shoulder
Grab your gear and double time
Betty’s got one moaning
Another s losing his mind
And another with a face full of shrapnel
Froze up standing his place in line
The Zimmer Man and I
Doing shit we never knew
Rifling through Rucks and Pancho’s
Getting ready for dust off #2
I don’t think I like Betty
She’s a fickle bitch at best
She jumps right up, 3 feet or so
And then fuck’s you in the chest
She will blow your legs to the left
And the rest of you to the right
She will blow your balls into the next day
And posses the souls of the night
With special thanks to;
Marc Levy, Mentor, editor and widely published author.
Betty: M-16 A1 antipersonnel mine. When tripped, a Bouncing Betty jumps out of the ground 3 to 5 feet before exploding.
Villes: G.I. slang for village
land of villes: authors phrase to represent Vietnam
ROK hill: A Republic of Korea base camp built on a hill.
ROK: A feared mercenary from the Republic of Korea.
diddy bop: GI slang for walked or passed by
They Grow Coffee Now
Khe Sanh 2008 (WRITTEN UPON MY SON’S RETURN FROM A COLLEGE TRIP TO VIETNAM WHERE HE VISITED MY DIGS)
THEY GROW COFFEE NOW…
WHERE SANDBAGS COVERED MY COMMO SITE.
THEY GROW COFFEE NOW…
WHERE YOUNG MARINES WERE WAITING TO FIGHT.
THEY GROW COFFEE NOW…
WHERE DUSTOFFS WERE CIRCLING TO LAND.
THEY GROW COFFEE NOW…
WHERE THE WOUNDED GRUNTS BLOOD RAN.
HOW DO YOU TAKE YOUR MIDNIGHT SWEATS ….
WITH ONE LUMP OR TWO ?
Stolen Youth
Our youth was tested
all those many years ago
when the boys we were
faced the mortality
of the men we were to be.
In the chaos that lurked
just beyond the wire,
The mayhem of bitter tribulation
waited in ambush,
calling for us by name…
beckoning for our very souls.
Deaths Black Angel
would pass in a rush of indifference;
his cold, icy fingers reaching
for the warmth of Life itself;
our youthful spirits forever wounded
by the vulgar stench of war.
Time has become entangled
in the oppressive barbed wire silence.
stilled by the need for penance,
it tortures the heart and spirit;
wanting only the peaceful refuge
of holy absolution.
Let our sorrows and tears
fall upon their granite names,
those many faces we knew.
Friends made…
Friends lost.
God shed your Grace on thee.
This was our stolen youth
those many years ago
when the men we were
walked with death and insanity
on the fine line of madness.
Doc Rich R