Personal Narrative: My Family With Vietnam Vets

If there was anything more terrifying to a shy, introverted, teenage girl than the idea of being a in crowded room full of strangers, it would to be actually in one. Yet, there I was, surrounded by a numerous amount of impatient, jet-black cars that illuminated the dark streets, rows of musicians rehearsing their piece by playing a dissonance of sounds, and the expectant, motley crowd of people lining up on the sidewalk for the veteran’s parade.

Home is not always a good place to be greeted from after coming back from a long, gory, and devastating war. The Veterans of the Vietnam War fought without a choice on the battlefield on Vietnam land. They were forced to hold back their opinions and do what they were told to do, which is to serve the country of America, home to them and many other Americans, in any way possible. Throughout their time in this war, they felt overwhelmed as horrifying events played out in front of them, such as the deaths of fellow soldiers. However, even as they were serving their country to the best of their ability, Vietnam soldiers were treated unfairly when they returned home from war.

When I first got put in the challenge program I was very scared. I only knew a handful of people and I didn’t know if it was the best fit for me. However, the past 4 years have proven me wrong. I would have been bored and in challenge when you have teachers like Mrs. Miller and Mrs. Hill, you wonder why you questioned yourself.

After war hit, virtually everything was deteriorated. In a four-mile radius from where I stand, not a single architecture except for the government buildings and makeshift shops are still structurally sound. Families are forced to survive, father's craft shelters for their families out of the detritus that remains. Children, including ages of even six years, sleep deprived due to labor, desperately attempt to rest on empty, dented, bed frames. The only people that have real, formal shelters are the aristocrats that pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to hire a room in a government shelter and the government families.

It was a blistering day, but I was short on time so I unfortunately had to rush and work without thinking beforehand this is a poor choice as I would soon learn and I walked right into their arms. The date is June 3rd, 1963 and it was all a trap, but I guess that’s war for you nothing but destruction.

A Veteran Woman On December 7, 2000, I raised my right hand pledging to serve and protect the American people. At the age of 20, I had entered a 240 year-old organization, not really knowing what to expect from it. I was scared, excited, and ready for the new challenges joining this Armed Forces organization would bring. My basic training was at Fort Jackson, South Carolina. This old country girl from Mississippi had to get on an airplane for the first time. My adrenaline was pumping so fast that I felt my heart could easily jump out my chest at any time. Despite all the insecure reservations I had and the negative comments I received from family and friends back home, I made it through basic training and spent a long, vigorous, and uplifting

Question One: Describe the community you lived in, or what your hometown was like? Did you notice any change after the war began?

“Catherine, we have another solider!” yells my mom. Ever since we started building our home the war has moved closer and closer to us. Now we are known as a “hospital” to them. Basically if someone gets injured they come to us and we have to tend to them. Clean up their wounds, aid to their fractures. Nurse them back to health so they can keep fighting. After I heard my mom say that I rushed down the steps of the loft to assist him in. He limping and look like he could just collapse if he didn’t have the other solider to lean on.

Currently I am the acting Section Sergeant in Bravo Troop 1-73 Cav, 2nd BCT, 82nd ABN DIV. I began my career October 2009 and was stationed at Ft Richardson AK, with 3rd Battalion 509th Infantry. In my tenure there I served in positions spanning from the assistant gunner to squad leader, and also the Fire Direction Center (FDC) check and chief. While serving as a gunner/ team leader we deployed to Eastern Afghanistan in support of Operation Enduring Freedom. I was attached to Chosen Company 3-509 and in December 2011 we landed in Bagram, the following week I was slowly pushed out to Combat Outpost (COP) Herrera. COP Herrera was a small outpost located in the Jaji District, East Paktia, and the surrounding villages were known Taliban strongholds.

It all started in February of 2003 when the Commander in Chief, Jeorge W. Hush initiated the threats against Saddam Hussein. It was my first unit, the first time I got to experience what the “real” Army was like outside of a training environment. We were the “The Deuce,” 542nd Maintenance Company. Things were hectic leading up to this point, and we’ve done a lot of training within our units. We were ready for war, or so we thought. All we had to do was fly.

Silence and darkness loomed over the room. Other than the occasional snore and bed creak, the room is silent, oblivious to the war that is being fought in Vietnam. Men are being ripped apart; their innards mercilessly pierced by the multitude of rounds penetrating through the air. One wrong move and suddenly, you’re soaking red, staining the garment around your torso and cementing your fate. But in this room, we were oblivious to such pains, such bloodshed. It was like if the war wasn’t even happening at all, isolating us from the pain and the death that would ultimately be subjected upon us. One of these days, we were going to be deployed, with almost ninety percent certainty that we would never see our families again. Ah, fuck it! I joined

Upon arriving to theater, the news spread out quick that one of our engineer platoons was hit

I wish that there was a cure for the war, and I wish that time could freeze and no more innocent people could be suffering or put in anymore graveyards.

I was awoken with a thunderous bang that made the ground tremble and the house shake. Things were falling off shelves, crashing and shattering onto the floor. I dived under a table until the shaking stopped. Slowly and carefully, I peeked out the window and watched as the soldiers broke their way into each and every house, gathering up everyone who didn't go to the Commemoration Day Show. I ran for my hunting gun and considered my options, run or fight. I decided to run and strap my gun across my back but quickly realised I was surrounded. I formulated a plan as I rushed up the stairs to my brother's bedroom. As I reached his room, my front door was burst open and the soldiers' carefully entered my house. I locked the door behind me and for

It was in my hometown, when the disaster happened; the smoke has yet to leave my nightmares. Since I was a little boy, my family fought with each other. It was not uncommon, though, for families to fight, I mean at that time the country was completely divided. We were in a troubled time; families were depressed by conflicts in Vietnam. The Vietnam War was just starting and nobody knew how big the issue would become.