Would you return, or have you returned, to Viet Nam?

I wanted no part of returning to Viet Nam. The last time I got wounded I received 30 major wounds (11 gunshot and 19 shrapnel wounds at least as large as the gunshot wounds) and a couple hundred minor wounds. But that wasn’t the bad part. Before the night ended I would up alone, with my weapon and my radio both KIA. What’s worse is the only people who had any idea where I was were all shooting at me. I’ve had better days.

Every night from 1969 through June 18, 2003 I kept having the same recurring dream -- I was a dud for allowing myself to get in that predicament. Oh yeah, I was down to only two bullets left when my M-16 got killed. The recurring dream always ended with Sir Charles walking up to kill me -- their blast from and AK would awaken me. Then I’d have trouble falling back asleep due to fear.

In 2003 my then 32 year old daughter asked me to take her to Viet Nam. Not only “NO” but “Hell NO!” -- except the word “no” is not in my Daddy dictionary. The plan was for me to take her where I got shot the last time for the 34th anniversary of the event. We shared a hotel room in Saigon the night before -- June 19, 2003. There were no bad dreams that night -- I couldn’t sleep. I was afraid I was going to humiliate myself in front of my daughter by crying or freaking out when we got there to confront the monsters in my closet.

When we got to Bunard, there were children playing, oblivious to the horrors of days gone past. Crops growing and even a few permanent structures. The place was beautiful. I still dream about Viet Nam, but they are all joyful dreams. I have never dreamed about the war since. The monsters in my closet were vanquished and replaced with the easygoing lifestyle of present day Viet Nam.

I like the place so much I returned twice in 2006 on leaflet drops (dollar bills) and in 2014 I took my youngest daughter -- then 10 years old.

I’m looking forward to hopefully returning again someday. I love it there. And the attitude of the average Vietnamese citizen on the street? ‘That was then, this is now.’ They are so welcoming; genuinely happy to see you.

One picture is my then 32 year old daughter and me standing where SFC Charles Hinson found me on the morning of June 20, 1969. The other is of my then 10 year-old daughter (pink top and white pants) with some of the local children at Bunard. It is actually my favorite all-time picture of Viet Nam.