thedrifter
04-26-07, 08:36 AM
Vietnam Veteran Shares Concerns for American Soldiers
Retired patrolman discusses issues facing soldiers in Part 1 of 2
By: Jenny Houser
Posted: 4/26/07
Kenn Miller tied his bootlaces. It had taken him 30 minutes this morning just to pull the boots on. His legs were stiff and sore, he said, from the cold weather. He gripped his cane and stood up slowly.
"This is what happens when you get old," he said laughing.
He pulled a green hat over his thinning gray hair. His skin was wrinkled from years of stress but he still smiled through his scruffy beard. He limped heavily when he walked, but his eyes gleamed as if he was still 20 years old.
"This is what happens when you get old."
No, this is what happens when you've spent three tours of combat sneaking around the jungles and mountains of Vietnam.
Sometime- nobody knows exactly when because of American politics and ancient hatreds in the Middle East-tens of thousands of Americans will be dealing with the same demons that confront Miller every day. They will be the former soldiers, Marines and sailors washed up on American soil after the U.S. government declares victory in Iraq and Afghanistan and brings them home.
Because of forces far beyond their control, these military veterans will walk the same psychological and physical trail blazed by more than 2 million Americans who served during America's decade-long involvement in the Vietnam War.
These returning veterans could do a lot worse than to listen to the lessons that Miller and his fellow Vietnam vets might be willing to share. It might be instructive for them to hear a previous generation's personal after-action reports on how they coped- or didn't- with the aftermath of an unpopular war.
Miller knows the brutal realities of war. He also knows what it's like to come back home and face a critical public. After 30 years, Miller is again witnessing how popular support in wartime can diminish.
"The United States is not worthy of its military," he said, shaking his head. "Any time Americans screw up, it makes big news. When America does something right, it doesn't."
In 2002, Miller was shopping in Santa Barbara with his wife and daughter. Waiting patiently inside a store while the women shopped, Miller heard shouting from outside. He stepped out to see 2,000 protesters carrying signs, yelling and banging cymbals.
"They were people my age and were anti-war people," he said. "They were re-living their youth. They were people just waiting for a chance to do this all over again."
In 1962, Miller joined the Army and was soon deployed to Vietnam. He was a U.S. Army long-range reconnaissance patrol, trained and highly skilled in capturing the enemy without ever being seen or heard. He was a ghost among the trees and rice paddies. With his CAR15 rifle in hand, the sergeant became known as the Warlord.
Thirty years and two published novels later, he is still known as the Warlord.
Miller sat next to his friend and fellow Vietnam vet, retired Green Beret Col. Paul Longgrear. The two old soldiers shared war stories and joked about their time spent in the jungle. Their lightheartedness quickly turned serious.
"You stayed in after the war, didn't you, Paul? Those who stayed in the service did better. I wish I had," Miller said.
Longgrear made the military his career after Vietnam. After 26 years of service, he had earned the Bronze Star, three Purple Hearts and two Vietnamese government awards for valor. Miller left the Army and went back to school.
"The people who suffered coming back from Vietnam were people who made the mistake of not staying in the Army for 20 years," Miller said. "You have trouble dealing with everything. You can't really respect the experience, and they're out to get you. I mean there was a real prejudice against GIs then."
While attending the University of Michigan, Miller sat in the back of the room with fellow veterans in a film course called "Vietnam and the Artist." The lecture hall was filled with 300 people and the four vets sat together. The lecture usually ended with the professor insulting the veterans.
"It was an endless litany of how horrible we were. We'd all sit together and [the professor] would make references like, 'We have our little fascist cluster over here. Notice how they are all sitting in the right?'"
For Miller's final class project, he turned in a full manuscript for a novel and received the lowest grade in the class. The students who hadn't received an "A" were veterans. Miller later published the manuscript, called "Tiger: The Lurp Dog," and received positive reviews from the Los Angeles Times and The New York Times.
Miller moved back to Reno and said that the discrimination continued. He worked at a casino giving change to guests. He wore a long-sleeve, white collared shirt with gold cufflinks that he had bought overseas.
"Excuse me. Where'd you get your cufflinks?" asked a woman gambling near the slot machines.
"I picked them up in Hong Kong."
"Were you in Vietnam?"
"Yes, I was."
"No wonder you're wearing long sleeves. You're trying to cover up your track marks."
Those words still sting the veteran to this day. Remarks made to Vietnam veterans and the treatment they endured continues to haunt Americans.
Ellie
Retired patrolman discusses issues facing soldiers in Part 1 of 2
By: Jenny Houser
Posted: 4/26/07
Kenn Miller tied his bootlaces. It had taken him 30 minutes this morning just to pull the boots on. His legs were stiff and sore, he said, from the cold weather. He gripped his cane and stood up slowly.
"This is what happens when you get old," he said laughing.
He pulled a green hat over his thinning gray hair. His skin was wrinkled from years of stress but he still smiled through his scruffy beard. He limped heavily when he walked, but his eyes gleamed as if he was still 20 years old.
"This is what happens when you get old."
No, this is what happens when you've spent three tours of combat sneaking around the jungles and mountains of Vietnam.
Sometime- nobody knows exactly when because of American politics and ancient hatreds in the Middle East-tens of thousands of Americans will be dealing with the same demons that confront Miller every day. They will be the former soldiers, Marines and sailors washed up on American soil after the U.S. government declares victory in Iraq and Afghanistan and brings them home.
Because of forces far beyond their control, these military veterans will walk the same psychological and physical trail blazed by more than 2 million Americans who served during America's decade-long involvement in the Vietnam War.
These returning veterans could do a lot worse than to listen to the lessons that Miller and his fellow Vietnam vets might be willing to share. It might be instructive for them to hear a previous generation's personal after-action reports on how they coped- or didn't- with the aftermath of an unpopular war.
Miller knows the brutal realities of war. He also knows what it's like to come back home and face a critical public. After 30 years, Miller is again witnessing how popular support in wartime can diminish.
"The United States is not worthy of its military," he said, shaking his head. "Any time Americans screw up, it makes big news. When America does something right, it doesn't."
In 2002, Miller was shopping in Santa Barbara with his wife and daughter. Waiting patiently inside a store while the women shopped, Miller heard shouting from outside. He stepped out to see 2,000 protesters carrying signs, yelling and banging cymbals.
"They were people my age and were anti-war people," he said. "They were re-living their youth. They were people just waiting for a chance to do this all over again."
In 1962, Miller joined the Army and was soon deployed to Vietnam. He was a U.S. Army long-range reconnaissance patrol, trained and highly skilled in capturing the enemy without ever being seen or heard. He was a ghost among the trees and rice paddies. With his CAR15 rifle in hand, the sergeant became known as the Warlord.
Thirty years and two published novels later, he is still known as the Warlord.
Miller sat next to his friend and fellow Vietnam vet, retired Green Beret Col. Paul Longgrear. The two old soldiers shared war stories and joked about their time spent in the jungle. Their lightheartedness quickly turned serious.
"You stayed in after the war, didn't you, Paul? Those who stayed in the service did better. I wish I had," Miller said.
Longgrear made the military his career after Vietnam. After 26 years of service, he had earned the Bronze Star, three Purple Hearts and two Vietnamese government awards for valor. Miller left the Army and went back to school.
"The people who suffered coming back from Vietnam were people who made the mistake of not staying in the Army for 20 years," Miller said. "You have trouble dealing with everything. You can't really respect the experience, and they're out to get you. I mean there was a real prejudice against GIs then."
While attending the University of Michigan, Miller sat in the back of the room with fellow veterans in a film course called "Vietnam and the Artist." The lecture hall was filled with 300 people and the four vets sat together. The lecture usually ended with the professor insulting the veterans.
"It was an endless litany of how horrible we were. We'd all sit together and [the professor] would make references like, 'We have our little fascist cluster over here. Notice how they are all sitting in the right?'"
For Miller's final class project, he turned in a full manuscript for a novel and received the lowest grade in the class. The students who hadn't received an "A" were veterans. Miller later published the manuscript, called "Tiger: The Lurp Dog," and received positive reviews from the Los Angeles Times and The New York Times.
Miller moved back to Reno and said that the discrimination continued. He worked at a casino giving change to guests. He wore a long-sleeve, white collared shirt with gold cufflinks that he had bought overseas.
"Excuse me. Where'd you get your cufflinks?" asked a woman gambling near the slot machines.
"I picked them up in Hong Kong."
"Were you in Vietnam?"
"Yes, I was."
"No wonder you're wearing long sleeves. You're trying to cover up your track marks."
Those words still sting the veteran to this day. Remarks made to Vietnam veterans and the treatment they endured continues to haunt Americans.
Ellie