by Robert Gore
It started in Vietnam. The men who chose to fight for America on Vietnam’s front lines did so for honorable reasons. While there was no immediate threat to the US, some were concerned about falling dominoes and the march of communism. Some were animated by an idealistic desire to secure democracy and liberty in a land that had never known those blessings. Perhaps some went believing that if the leaders of the country said this war was in America’s best interests, it must be so. For those who were drafted, they did, perhaps reluctantly, what they perceived to be their duty.
Whatever their motivations, those who fought found their idealism shattered. Many of the South Vietnamese they thought they were fighting “for” despised the US as the latest in a succession of imperial powers using a corrupt, puppet government as the cat’s paw for its domination. Short of total immolation of both friend and foe—it was often impossible to differentiate the two—there was no effective strategy against guerrilla warfare waged by the enemy fighting on its home turf. The Viet Cong proved as difficult to vanquish as hordes of ants and mosquitoes at a picnic. The victory the generals and politicians insisted was just another few months and troop deployments down the road never came, and the soldiers knew it never would, long before reality was acknowledged and the troops brought home.
Brutal disillusionment gave way to abject disgust when they returned stateside. They cynically, but understandably, concluded that the antiwar protests had more to do with fear of the draft (there were no major protests after Nixon ended it), and readily available sex and drugs than heartfelt opposition to the war. That conclusion was buttressed by their reception from the antiwar crowd. If they were expecting support and understanding, they didn’t get it. The US victims of the war, those who fought it—the wounded, the physically and psychologically maimed, the dead—were branded as subhuman thugs and baby killers. It was the first time in the history of the US that a substantial swath of the population turned on those who had fought its wars. Those who fought regarded (or, in the case of the dead, would have regarded) those doing the branding as preening, posturing, spoiled children. A subterranean fault line split into a gaping fissure, since widened to a yawning chasm.
