Election Week and Veteran’s Day Reflections 2022…
This past May, my wife and I returned to the United States from a nearly month long adventure/experience in Vietnam. We returned home having successfully completed a mission of international adoption, and in doing so, brought home with us, a new addition to our family… a sweet, fun-loving, contagiously happy, tremendously curious and very courageous, 9 year old little girl. We have been blessed beyond words to welcome her into our family, and we love her more than we can even begin to describe. We are so truly, truly, truly thankful!
It was late on the afternoon of April 30th that my wife and I finished our packing, went to bed early, (and got up even earlier it seemed…) so we could be at the Dwight D. Eisenhower International Airport by 3:30AM and fly out by 6am on 5/1. That meant that my wife and I had finished packing to leave for Vietnam on the same day that history reminds us that Saigon fell, and that the US had officially packed up and pulled out of Vietnam in 1975. Consequentially, that meant that we arrived in Vietnam, in “Ho Chi Minh City” (formerly Saigon) on the tail-end of their “Liberation Day / Reunification Day” 3-Day Holiday weekend on May 2nd. And, for most of the Month of May we found ourselves “in-country” in Vietnam, and traveled the North-to-South length of the Country, from Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), all the way to the Capitol of Hanoi in the North, working diligently during our time there to fulfill and complete all of the necessary steps, documents, ceremonies and requirements of and for our adoption process.
For me, Vietnam has always been an enigma of sorts. A place of mystery, intrigue, interest and wonder, that took me back to some of my earliest memories of childhood, and to listening to adult conversations with visiting Aunts and Uncles late at night sitting around our kitchen table, or watching the 6 O’clock News with my Mom, and my Nanna and Grandpa. Literally, all of my life, I have wanted to see Vietnam, to know more about it, and to personally understand and experience it in some way for myself. Being in Vietnam, this past May, and bringing a child into our family and into our home from that Country, made deep connections in my heart that even reflecting back on them all these months later I cannot fully articulate, or effectively put into words…
Four of my Uncles were US Military Vietnam Era Vets, and my Uncle Will, a United States Marine, shipped out to Vietnam on the day I was born (8/10/1968) and spent most of his tour in and around Da Nang, Vietnam. My Uncle Pete, USAF, (he disclosed to me on a fishing excursion once) was a part of a team that did insertion type missions, recovering fuel samples and doing demolition of downed US Aircraft in Vietnam. My Uncle Larry (United States Navy) was at Sea, off the coast of Vietnam (in the South China Sea) during part of his career in the USN. And, my Uncle Dale (US Army) was stationed in Europe during his time in the military. Each of them carried their service during the Vietnam era, and their experiences in the military in their own ways and for the rest of their lives. They were each men that I admired and respected greatly, and the things they had seen and done fascinated me to no end.
For me, during the brief time I was able to be in Vietnam, there were a few things that stood out, and spoke powerfully to me…
One of the things that struck me most, everywhere we went, was the lush, dense, deep green, fertility of the landscape. Vegetation, plant life and plant growth was… prevalent in all directions and in all ways, to say the least. I really can’t overstate, or even accurately describe, what it was like. I’ve been a lot of places, and seen a lot of the world, but I’ve never seen a more densely verdant countryside than Vietnam. I can’t even begin to imagine having to engage in combat in an environment like that.
Second… Traffic and Scooters. I have never seen traffic like the traffic I saw in Vietnam. I’m pretty sure there are more scooters/motorbikes in Vietnam than anywhere else in the world. However, it was the most orderly, respectful, “total chaos” of vehicular and pedestrian interaction I’ve ever seen. In all of our time there, though traffic and people were flowing everywhere, every way, and in every direction, I never saw a single accident. I did see a t-shirt though I wish now I would have bought. It said: “Traffic in Vietnam” and had a picture of a Traffic Light. Next to the Green Traffic Light it said: “I Can Go!” Next to the Yellow Traffic Light it said: “I Can Also Go!” And, next to the Red Traffic Light it said: “I Can Still Go!” And, that pretty much sums up how it was. Traffic there was like a river you paddled your way into with your horn, hands and primal reflexes. And, yes, I have videos to illustrate what I’ve described. But again, there was no road-rage that we saw, and though I’m sure there had to be one somewhere, we personally, as stated before, didn’t see a single accident.
Third… the people. In the Urban environments we were in, people were everywhere. I mean everywhere! I don’t think I’ve ever been in more densely populated urban areas than those I was in while in Vietnam. With that said, our experience of the people of Vietnam, literally everywhere we went, was ALL good. They were some of the kindest, most helpful, and hospitable people I’ve ever experienced. And, wherever we went, when whoever we were interacting or conversing with, found out we were adopting a Vietnamese child… they were so… indescribably thankful, gracious, encouraging, and even generous. It truly meant something deep to them, and they let us personally know how much they appreciated our desire and our willingness to adopt a child from their Country.
Fourth… the Vietnam War and a few Veteran’s Day reflections. In Hanoi, toward the end of our trip, from our Hotel (The Somerset Grand) and our room on the 17th floor, I looked out and thought I recognized some of the architecture below from old arial, and historical photos I had seen, in books which I had read about the War. I wondered if maybe we were close to what American POW’s held captive in Hanoi during the war, had called the “Hanoi Hilton.” I had no idea just how close we were…
The old “Hoa Lo” (fiery furnace) prison, officially named “Maison Centrale” by the French (who originally built the prison in the late 1880’s, during the French Colonial period, to deal with Vietnamese insurgents and political prisoners), had been used during the Vietnam war, by the North Vietnamese, as a prison to house United States POW’s (primarily pilots and airmen), who, during their time there, had re-named it “The Hanoi Hilton.”
As it turns out, as I had looked down from our hotel room window, I was actually looking down on the last remaining three buildings of the old Hoa Lo prison complex (now a museum). And, the high-rise hotel we were staying in was actually built on the grounds of the old “Hanoi Hilton” prison compound. When I realized that fact, I was stunned, to say the least. I could remember watching news broadcasts as a small child, of POW’s being released from imprisonment in Hanoi, and could remember family conversation about it… and, there I was, literally in that very place. Two days later (5/13), Friday the 13th (a tremendously fitting coincidental date), I went down and toured the museum itself, and saw some of the dark, dismal, horrific and oppressive conditions that I can only imagine POW’s would have encountered and experienced in that place. I also saw Sen. John McCain’s parachute, helmet, and flight suit, as well as many other pictures and artifacts of the prison’s past use and inhabitants.
As a patriotic American, from a family of military veterans, it was a deeply meaningful experience for me to feel the weight of being there. And, though our hotel and accommodations were amazing (and maybe because of that fact) I couldn’t shake being disturbed by the reality, that we were staying in literally the same geographical location, where just a few decades earlier, American Servicemen had been incarcerated, had been tortured, and had died, ultimately as an expression of their love, devotion, and loyalty to our Country.
During the morning of our last daylight hours in Vietnam and in the city of Hanoi, my wife decided she needed to go on “one more” shopping excursion before we left. We were headed back to “P Hang Gai” street which had the main “Silk Market” and was lined primarily with shops that sold silk dresses, goods and clothing. This, as you might suspect, was not of particular interest to me, but I accompanied my wife and our new daughter on the adventure, and provided navigational assistance and personal security for the mission. As Angel and our daughter went in to “dress shop” after “dress shop,” I hung out on the street, enjoyed some street food, and browsed the various (seemingly endless impromptu) street shops (all along the streets) which were set up outside of the storefronts themselves. That’s when I came across a little shop-stand, you could describe as a “kiosk” perhaps, that really caught my eye. It was a rather small, primarily plexiglass case or cabinet, with shelves throughout its height, and wheels on the bottom. It was about the height and size of a couple of highschool lockers fastened together, and was filled with things I instantly recognized… There were old Vietnam War era US M-16 mags, old US military compasses, old US Military patches, old US military mess kits/shaving kits, a few old pocket knives, old zippo lighters, and a bunch of old wrist watches… and it was as I looked at the watches that it slowly dawned on me what I was looking at… These weren’t “military surplus” items. These were things that had all, at some point in time, been taken off of Killed In Action, Missing In Action and perhaps even Prisoner of War, US Servicemen.
It was interesting the feelings that accompanied that moment of realization, shock… revulsion… sadness…. Do these words accurately express the feelings of that moment? Do they describe what I reflexively felt? I honestly don’t really know how to explain them. In that real-time moment, as I became aware of what I was looking at, I wanted to walk up and buy all of the contents of that display case, but I looked down and realized I had involuntarily taken a few steps back. For a moment, I just stood there, almost in the street, thinking about the real cost of war, of lives lost, and of families changed forever. As an American, in that moment, I knew that in the US, we were just a week away from the Memorial Day holiday, but here I was looking at a cabinet filled with the last personal possessions of some of those who had payed the ultimate price for the freedoms I so haphazardly enjoy and take for granted every day. For a moment I wondered what Memorial Day was or would be like for the families of these Servicemen, and how remembered they still were by their families, friends and Nation all these many years later.
I don’t believe wars are ever really over for those who have fought in them. And, for the families of those who fight, who have fought, and who have died in Wars, I believe there are wounds that will never be healed this side of eternity. War, in truth, is only ever really over, for the dead. And, for us who live and breathe on, wether we have been those who have served our Nation in the US Armed Services, or we never have, it is important for all of us to remember, on this, our Nation’s Veterans Day, that it was and is through the blood of our best and our bravest that we actually have access to all that we do, and are able to enjoy the freedoms we so daily take for granted.
The only time my Uncle Pete ever mentioned anything to me about what he did in Vietnam was as we waded, shoulder to shoulder, a rock-bottomed creek, deep in the Kansas Flint Hills, fishing for catfish on (if I remember correctly) a 4th of July (a family tradition for the Schmutz family, dating back to the 1930’s and perhaps before…). He had casually mentioned to me that morning, hiking in to the creek, that the dense foliage we had to find our way through, always reminded him of Vietnam. Later, as we waded that creek, and fished it alone, just the two of us, I said, “Uncle Pete, I didn’t know you had served in Vietnam…” I then asked him a question or two, and then just listened. After he said what he said, he waded on ahead a few yards, hooked a nice channel cat, put it on his stringer, and never said another word about Vietnam that day, or at any other time ever after that. I believe that was the last time we fished together. He died a few months later, in April of 2008, very suddenly, of Pancreatic Cancer (a Cancer that is 7-10x more common in Vietnam Vets than in the general populous). He was 64 years old.
Before writing this post, I reached out to my Uncle Pete’s sons, both of them United States Air Force Vetrans, to ask about his service record. They both told me that to their knowledge, their Dad hadn’t served in Vietnam. A few weeks later, after checking his Dad’s DD214, one of my Cousins found that during his time “officially” stationed in the Philippines, his Dad had been awarded the Gallantry Cross by the South Vietnamese Government. This discovery was news to my cousin, and he found no further record or information about it. While visiting The National Museum of WWII Aviation, this past Summer, I got into a pretty in depth conversation with a retired USAF Pilot and Vietnam Veteran, and told him about the conversation with my Uncle and the mystery of his service record and his Gallantry Cross. He said… “Well, there were a lot of things that happened in Vietnam that the outside world didn’t know, and for those who were a part of them… they weren’t at liberty to talk about them. Your Uncle was probably a part of a team that… ‘covered tracks.’ He probably never talked about it because he couldn’t.”
As for me, I’m not a Veteran, but… I’m truly thankful today to live in the Nation that I do. Truly thankful. I’m thankful today for men and women who have fought and died for our Nation and who have ultimately defended my opportunity to live in the greatest Nation to ever exist on the face of the earth. I’m thankful to be an American, and to live in a Nation that is still “…the land of the free and the home of the brave.”
This week… as we get ready to celebrate Veteran’s Day on Friday, November 11th, I hope and pray that you will join me in going to the polls and casting your ballot on Tuesday, November 8th. As Americans, perhaps the best way to honor our Veterans, is to help to preserve this great Republic they have served, fought and died for, by exercising our own personal freedom and right to vote. There is a lot that hangs in the balance for this election. Will you choose to be one on whom America can depend to make a difference with your ballot?
