Download or read book Vietnam Through My Eyes written by Ralph Boirum and published by Outskirts Press. This book was released on 2024-07-24 with total page 194 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: The inspiring true story of an infantryman in the jungles, the Mekong Delta, and during the Tet Offensive in Vietnam. Note from the Author Vietnam was a tough, unpopular war. It was fought by tough men and women, who by the very act of being there, themselves became unpopular. Returning home to the States after a year of monumental effort and personal sacrifice, a GI was often scorned, even spat upon. The jubilant welcome experienced by their fathers returning from Europe and the Pacific twenty years previously was nowhere to be seen. No one wanted to hear about Vietnam and relatively few veterans wrote about their experiences. Most did their best just to forget and get along with their lives. Only now, more than 50 years later, is there an acceptance and appreciation of the sacrifice and valor shown by so many. Unfortunately, many are no longer with us. Lives were shortened by the effects of battle or exposure to chemicals, or just an excess of years, such that many veterans never lived long enough to begin to feel the appreciation they deserve. By describing his own war, I hope some of the remaining vets can relive their own experiences and appreciate themselves for their effort and sacrifice. The F-100 streaked in low, barely a couple hundred feet over the scrubby treetops. Its 20mm cannon rounds tearing up the brush, throwing earth & vegetation into the air with loud buzzing, popping thunder. As he neared the low point in his shallow dive, two dark, oblong objects fell from his wings. Three-bladed slats immediately deployed from the trailing end of each object, slowing them to allow the plane to get out of blast range of the Mark-82 Snake Eye 500-pound bombs. Down! someone yelled, unnecessarily, as this was the third bombing run in as many minutes by the two jets providing our air support. I flattened out behind the low dike in the stubble of the dry rice paddy and closed my eyes against the dust that would be raised by the exploding bombs. I was already soaked with sweat and filthy as the warm, dry rice paddy dirt stuck to every damp surface. I momentarily forgot the itching that comes with sweat, filth, and a week in the same dirty clothes. Incredibly loud, almost simultaneous crumps and violent shocks that took the breath away followed by the buzz of shrapnel flying overhead announced the bombs’ detonations.