thedrifter
07-07-08, 07:27 AM
Last Vietnam vet in Coast Guard returns to civilian life
11:25 PM CDT on Sunday, July 6, 2008
By JOANNA CATTANACH / The Dallas Morning News
jcattanach@dallasnews.com
After some 30 years of military service, the last Vietnam veteran still on active duty in the Coast Guard is finally retiring.
And he's not looking forward to it.
"I can't imagine what life's going to be outside of this uniform," said Senior Chief Petty Officer Donald Swanger, a 58-year-old health services technician.
"I have never looked forward to retirement," he said last week as he picked at a guitar in his sister's living room in Mesquite. His SUV was parked in the driveway, filled with retirement gear – fishing poles, a hunting rifle, golf clubs.
"Someone said to me one time [that] when I retire, that'll be the close of an era," he said. "But I don't think it will be, because even though the last Vietnam combat veteran retires, that doesn't shut the door.
"There's still Vietnam veterans, there's Vietnam veterans' families and wives and their children that still need help," he said.
While Chief Petty Officer Swanger is the last active-duty Vietnam veteran in the Coast Guard, there are nine left in the Marine Corps. That's the branch of the service he joined in 1967, when he was 17.
Letting her son join the military wasn't an easy decision for his mother, who died last year.
"Mom was worried because of the situation and the way the war was going at the time," said his sister, Evelyn Hamilton. But, "she knew that [it] was an opportunity for him."
The young lance corporal was the oldest of five siblings, and supporting the family was his main motivation. "We grew up very, very poor," he said. His father left when he was 7. Most the $92 a month he earned as an enlisted man was sent home.
By September 1968, the young Marine was featured in a Dallas Morning News article documenting his platoon's battle with Viet Cong. Photos showed him alongside a tank but didn't convey his nervousness.
Standing up with the enemy around could get you killed in Vietnam, Chief Petty Officer Swanger said.
But it was the transition home – to Dallas, to a country that no longer saw him as a hero – that left its deepest wounds.
The first time he returned from Vietnam, he wasn't old enough to buy a beer. But plenty of people bought him drinks – and steak dinners.
But a year later, in 1969, Chief Petty Officer Swanger returned to a country he didn't know.
"Someone threw dog crap at me at the airport in California," he said. People called him a baby-killer, a fascist.
He tried to go to Vietnam again, to the stress and the dying, the life he knew as normal. But the Marines turned down his request for a third tour.
In 1973, after a brief stint as a logger in Oregon, he signed up for the Coast Guard. He left it in 1978 for civilian life, serving as a firefighter in Pensacola, Fla., and as a physician's assistant in Dallas.
But by 1985, he was back in the Coast Guard with a new mission – starting a school. The Independent Duty Health Services Technician School teaches technicians skills to diagnose and treat a variety of medical conditions.
"He worked over a decade to create a school," said Coast Guard public affairs officer Dan Dewell, who worked with Chief Petty Officer Swanger. "He felt from his own experience in the field that [technicians] needed a separate course of study. It turns out he was right."
In April, Chief Petty Officer Swanger retired. It's not official until August, but he's using saved leave to relax and look for a new job.
"I've been told I'd make a good door guard at Wal-Mart," he said, half-joking. " 'Here's your shopping cart, lady. Move it.' "
The burly Coast Guardsman isn't the greeter type. He can't quite get the military tone out of his day-to-day speech. He even dresses in green and khaki civilian clothes and still feels the need for a buzz cut when his hair reaches more than half an inch.
He'd like to pursue work in the health industry and continue to help Vietnam veterans and those suffering post-traumatic stress disorder.
He'd also like to spend more time with his two "outstanding grandchildren," and maybe something else.
"I've been dreaming of a Harley for 40 years," he said.
For Chief Petty Officer Swanger, his old Marines uniform represents more than just the 20 service honors he received while wearing it. The jungle greens hold the memory of 10 good friends, good Marines he left behind in Vietnam.
At his retirement ceremony in California, he said he planned to take his Coast Guard uniform, "cover it in plastic, stick it in the back of my closet along with a few other trinkets that I have collected along life's path."
From time to time, he'll pull it out, "gaze upon it with fond memories of shipmates and times past and choices and then hide it away again until the next time [I] need a reminder of how good it really was."
Ellie
11:25 PM CDT on Sunday, July 6, 2008
By JOANNA CATTANACH / The Dallas Morning News
jcattanach@dallasnews.com
After some 30 years of military service, the last Vietnam veteran still on active duty in the Coast Guard is finally retiring.
And he's not looking forward to it.
"I can't imagine what life's going to be outside of this uniform," said Senior Chief Petty Officer Donald Swanger, a 58-year-old health services technician.
"I have never looked forward to retirement," he said last week as he picked at a guitar in his sister's living room in Mesquite. His SUV was parked in the driveway, filled with retirement gear – fishing poles, a hunting rifle, golf clubs.
"Someone said to me one time [that] when I retire, that'll be the close of an era," he said. "But I don't think it will be, because even though the last Vietnam combat veteran retires, that doesn't shut the door.
"There's still Vietnam veterans, there's Vietnam veterans' families and wives and their children that still need help," he said.
While Chief Petty Officer Swanger is the last active-duty Vietnam veteran in the Coast Guard, there are nine left in the Marine Corps. That's the branch of the service he joined in 1967, when he was 17.
Letting her son join the military wasn't an easy decision for his mother, who died last year.
"Mom was worried because of the situation and the way the war was going at the time," said his sister, Evelyn Hamilton. But, "she knew that [it] was an opportunity for him."
The young lance corporal was the oldest of five siblings, and supporting the family was his main motivation. "We grew up very, very poor," he said. His father left when he was 7. Most the $92 a month he earned as an enlisted man was sent home.
By September 1968, the young Marine was featured in a Dallas Morning News article documenting his platoon's battle with Viet Cong. Photos showed him alongside a tank but didn't convey his nervousness.
Standing up with the enemy around could get you killed in Vietnam, Chief Petty Officer Swanger said.
But it was the transition home – to Dallas, to a country that no longer saw him as a hero – that left its deepest wounds.
The first time he returned from Vietnam, he wasn't old enough to buy a beer. But plenty of people bought him drinks – and steak dinners.
But a year later, in 1969, Chief Petty Officer Swanger returned to a country he didn't know.
"Someone threw dog crap at me at the airport in California," he said. People called him a baby-killer, a fascist.
He tried to go to Vietnam again, to the stress and the dying, the life he knew as normal. But the Marines turned down his request for a third tour.
In 1973, after a brief stint as a logger in Oregon, he signed up for the Coast Guard. He left it in 1978 for civilian life, serving as a firefighter in Pensacola, Fla., and as a physician's assistant in Dallas.
But by 1985, he was back in the Coast Guard with a new mission – starting a school. The Independent Duty Health Services Technician School teaches technicians skills to diagnose and treat a variety of medical conditions.
"He worked over a decade to create a school," said Coast Guard public affairs officer Dan Dewell, who worked with Chief Petty Officer Swanger. "He felt from his own experience in the field that [technicians] needed a separate course of study. It turns out he was right."
In April, Chief Petty Officer Swanger retired. It's not official until August, but he's using saved leave to relax and look for a new job.
"I've been told I'd make a good door guard at Wal-Mart," he said, half-joking. " 'Here's your shopping cart, lady. Move it.' "
The burly Coast Guardsman isn't the greeter type. He can't quite get the military tone out of his day-to-day speech. He even dresses in green and khaki civilian clothes and still feels the need for a buzz cut when his hair reaches more than half an inch.
He'd like to pursue work in the health industry and continue to help Vietnam veterans and those suffering post-traumatic stress disorder.
He'd also like to spend more time with his two "outstanding grandchildren," and maybe something else.
"I've been dreaming of a Harley for 40 years," he said.
For Chief Petty Officer Swanger, his old Marines uniform represents more than just the 20 service honors he received while wearing it. The jungle greens hold the memory of 10 good friends, good Marines he left behind in Vietnam.
At his retirement ceremony in California, he said he planned to take his Coast Guard uniform, "cover it in plastic, stick it in the back of my closet along with a few other trinkets that I have collected along life's path."
From time to time, he'll pull it out, "gaze upon it with fond memories of shipmates and times past and choices and then hide it away again until the next time [I] need a reminder of how good it really was."
Ellie