Written by Bernie Weisz Vietnam Historian January 8th, 2010 Pembroke Pines, Florida e mail address: BernWei1@aol.com

I have read literally hundreds of memoirs written about combatant's experiences in Vietnam. Usually, I have found that the most accurate ones were written prior to 1980-with the war still fresh in that particular veteran's mind. However, Jack Stoddard's "What Are They Going To Do, Send Me to Vietnam" will not only give the reader the sights, smells and sounds of Vietnam War, but the feelings that Stoddard suppressed for close to thirty years, i.e. the themes of "survivor's guilt", and "P.T.S.D.", etc. will come flying out of it's "three-decades old" floodgates. Stoddard never wanted to write this book. In fact, he went out of his way not to discuss his experiences, his losses nor his nightmares.

In the beginning of this book, Stoddard gives only a "half-truth" as to why he wrote this book. Explaining as such, he wrote in 2000: "I wrote this book because like a lot of other Vets, I couldn't tell my own sons about Vietnam, but I knew I must. There are thousands of other kids like mine, and parents out there who only want to know what their fathers or sons went through and why they still carry the burden of war with them today. This book offers no political opinions nor is it judgmental of Vietnam or the war. Rather, it is a collection of true stories about the exciting, humorous, and sometimes frightening adventures I experienced during my 2 1/2 years of combat. This book tells it like it really was, at least for me". The other half, Stoddard revealed at the book's conclusion, the last truth of the germination of this story that almost never was told. Stoddard concludes: "I couldn't help but think of the past and how my wife encouraged me to write this book about the way Vietnam really was. About good men doing an impossible job as best they could. Not killers, but boys who became men long before their time-some who came home, and some who didn't."

As mentioned, in all of the memoirs I have read, there are certain cliche's that came out of Vietnam, such as "364 days and a wake-up", "Going back to the World", "Flying on that Freedom Bird", but my all time favorite was the title of this book. So, what does "What are they going to do, send me to Vietnam" mean? Found throughout the book as a sarcastic comeback to an unpopular order or request by an incompetent superior of Stoddard's, it is explained in the forward by Tom White. White was the Brigadier General of the Blackhorse Regiment and Stoddard's platoon leader in Vietnam. The Blackhorse Regiment was the nickname for the 11th Cavalry, where it was assigned in Vietnam and Cambodia for 1,639 days, with it's troops earning 11 battle streamers. In fact, the 11th Armored Cavalry Regimental Commander (ACR) was Col. George S. Patton III and the Air Cavalry Troop commander was Major John C. "Doc" Bahnson, who also wrote an excellent memoir called "American Warrior". White explained the title as such: "In choosing the title for this book, the author has picked the perfect expression to capture the essence of his text. First of all, that phrase suggests that this book is not a book about the grand strategy of the Vietnam War. Thank God! For those of us who fought in that war, we would agree unanimously that if there ever really was a strategy in Vietnam, it certainly was not grand. Instead, Stoddard titled his book with a phrase instantly recognizable by every Vietnam veteran and repeated throughout the Army over a period a thousand times over. It suggests a certain irreverence to authority combined with a dogged determination to get on with the task no matter how dangerous or difficult it may have been. It captures in a phrase the spirit and the common bond shared by soldiers in Vietnam".

Tom White never wrote his memoirs. However, he understood why Stoddard would never had wrote his without his wife's prodding, and explains why he can't bring himself to do it. White rationalized the aforementioned as such: "We were young men who, at the time, never concerned ourselves with the grand strategy or the politics or whether the war was right or wrong. The war was there and we were there and we were going to accomplish our mission to the best of our ability because that was the best way to stay alive. We were proud of our unit, valued our friendships, and did the best we could to care for our buddies, That is why the losses were so personal and the hurt has continued for so long". All of the aforementioned themes White mentioned will come out strong in this book, as the following statement by Stoddard confirms White's analysis: "Every soldier who walks the earth has a story. This is mine, or at least the part of my life when I felt the most alive while at the same time being the closest to death. I was a 22 year old professional soldier who already had 5 years experience under his belt when I arrived in Vietnam in 1968. I developed everlasting bonds of friendship, trust, honor, and hope with my closest buddies who were also proud to be called soldiers. there were no Rambo's, dopers, or insane killers in my book; just a group of young soldiers, like myself, who were scared most of the time, but had too much pride to show it. We were too busy taking care of each other and just putting up with the daily crap that goes along with any war".

When I read a memoir about the Vietnam War, I judge it's accuracy and historical usefulness by the subtle messages and nuances of the conflict that no history book will dare publish. In "What Are They Going to Do, Send Me to Vietnam", I was not disappointed. Stoddard takes the reader on his trips as a commander of his 50 ton M48 tank, called the "Double Duce" and you walk with him on patrol as a squad leader of the elite all volunteer Aero Rifle Platoon of Col. Patton's 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment. Right in the first story, the reader gets a feel of the futility of this war. Stoddard wrote about feeling isolated, not knowing a single soul on the 18 hour commercial airliner that took him from Travis Air Force Base, in Vacaville, California packed with 300 other youths bound for Vietnam with stops in Hawaii and Guam. His comment when first deplaning was classic: "By the time my feet hit the bottom of the ramp, I had learned my first lesson in Vietnam: There was no cool breeze. That hot sticky feeling that bothered me inside the plane surrounded me on the ground too. As soon as we deplaned, we were loaded on big blue air Force buses with wire screens covering the windows to be taken to the 90th Replacement Battalion at Long Binh, about an hour from the air base. The young soldier sitting next to me smiled and asked the driver, "Why all the screens? To keep us from getting out? The overworked driver replied matter-of-factly, "No, it's to keep the grenades from coming in". The soldier's smile quickly disappeared as he turned to me and asked, "He's kidding, right?" However, the U.S. game plan of "winning the hearts and minds of the Vietnamese people never worked. The driver was not kidding. In fact, one of the major issues our troops faced was the farmer or mama san working legitimate jobs during the day, and changing into a Viet Cong at night. Who was our ally and who was our foe? Could this confusion have contributed to what happened at My Lai 4? Many "friendly fire" incidents occurred during this war, in part indirectly attributable to this problem. In fact, "friendly fire" killed Chris Cordova, Stoddard's driver and good friend on the "Double Duce" four months after Stoddard D.E.R.O'sed back home (returned to the U.S.). The reader will feel Stoddard's remorse and survivor's guilt over Cordova's death.

After his arrival in the summer of 1968, Stoddard was assigned to "M Company" near Xuan Loc, home of the "Blackhorse Regiment". His first assessment of Vietnam was classic: "It was hard adjusting to the constant heat and humidity. Everything in the 'Nam seemed to sweat. The canvas covering our hooch was mildewed and the smell was overwhelming. It was just too hot to sleep. It was like being in a furnace. Even my lungs were burning". However, Stoddard also revealed a beauty to Vietnam rarely told by the history books. On his first Chinook flight over the terrain, he remarked: "Within a matter of minutes, we were flying over what appeared from the air to be a peaceful jungle. Being naive, I thought this was just too pretty a place for a war. The edges were a light green as new vegetation tried to reclaim the areas that had been cleared by local farmers for their rice paddies. Then the jungle took on a darker green as the younger trees mixed with the older taller trees forming, in effect, a double canopy jungle. Soon we flew over even darker sections of almost black terrain. Three layers of trees had formed together. At that point, the foliage became so thick it was almost impossible to see through it from the ground or air. I learned from one of the old-timers that this was called, logically, a triple canopy jungle. It looked so beautiful flying over that I couldn't wait to venture into my new surroundings". Little did Stoddard know at the time, but what he was describing was the exact justification the U.S. Government used to spray "Agent Orange" or Dioxin-which was a cancer causing, environmentally poisoning defoliant used to deny the enemy this sanctuary that gave refuge to the N.V.A. and Viet Cong in hiding from our forces.

After arriving "in country", Stoddard was assigned to a tank company that wouldn't have an officer until the next week. Getting a call to move out on a tank newly given to him, two occurrences happened to Stoddard that set the tone for the entire war. Despite being in the military for five years prior, in his first call into action, Stoddard remarked: "As we rolled out of the perimeter, all kinds of new thoughts and questions filled my mind. Were we going to a major battle? Back to base camp? I didn't have any ammunition. When or how would I load my rifle? What am I supposed to look for? I finally decided to just hold on and keep my mouth shut". So much for preparing our troops for combat! After a battle with the infamous "wait a minute vines" (they were the tentacles of giant prickly vines that attacked and tormented ground troops and tankers) Stoddard had to be medically evacuated to a rear aid station to have the tentacles removed from around his eyes. Stoddard made a comment that represented the "American fighting spirit" to prevail in this war as follows: "I remember thinking, how could anybody work all day in this unbearable climate? It was only the middle of the afternoon and I was already soaked to the skin and physically drained by the heat. Just think, only 359 days to go!"

In his story of "Guarding The Runway", Stoddard's tank platoon of "M" company was based at Xuan Loc. This was right after the Tet Offensive had just started and N.V.A. and V.C. units were infiltrating most of the cities. Stoddard's tank company was split in half, with 10 tanks going to Bien Hoa, the other 10, including Stoddard, going to protect Long Binh. After spotting and being ordered to destroy an enemy 51 caliber machine gun nest hidden in the bell tower of an old French Church, Stoddard described attacking the target as well as the resulting death of it's occupants. However, as a reflection of the U.S. pursuit of the war in general, Stoddard made a very interesting comment. He wrote: "Before we could move to our second target, word came down from higher command for us to get our tanks out of the city. Our tanks were destroying too many buildings maneuvering in the narrow side streets. We were doing more damage than the enemy". In reading this, I wonder how General William Westmoreland ever thought that he could see "light at the end of the tunnel". Since when did our tanks upon entering Germany in April, 1945, worry about damaging or destroying German architecture, certainly more sophisticated and antiquated then in Long Binh?

In his story "What, Me Hurt?" Stoddard injured his hand trying to repair a thrown track on his tank. Accidentally getting his hand pinned and almost crushed, he once again had to be medically evacuated by helicopter. While he was being treated, three medevac choppers brought a load of dead and wounded soldiers in to be worked on, which Stoddard gruesomely witnessed. Finding out that his hand was only jammed, he was given pain pills, told he was okay and to report back to his company. His thoughts were recorded as such: "I felt better as I walked back to the orderly room. As a matter of fact, after what I just witnessed, it felt good to be alive. I sure never wanted to go back there ever again. Instead of going directly back to my company, I stopped off at the Non-commissioned Officers Club and had a beer. Sure, I wasn't supposed to be there (NCO clubs are only for officers, a rank Stoddard didn't possess), but what were they going to do, send me to Vietnam"?

One would have to be in Vietnam to understand the following, which certainly indicated racial discord between black and white troops. This had to with the practice of "dapping". For some reason, Stoddard never mentioned it was a racial thing, but in Cecil B. Curry's book "Long Binh Jail", it certainly was. Curry wrote as follows: "Black Power had become an issue that rent at the fabric of American society by 1967-1968. Clenched fist salutes, Afro hairstyles, and motto's such as "Black is beautiful" became symbols of solidarity among African Americans, and they sought to emphasize "black pride" among the people of their race. Social conflict raging at home soon made it's way across the Pacific to American military units assigned to Vietnam. Black troopers became "brother" to one another, whether they knew each other or not. Their shared color is what mattered. They sported the new Afro hairstyles and grew tiny beards on their lower lips in defiance of military regulations. They developed intricate hand movements to be used when meeting one another, a practice known as "dapping". They believed (sometimes correctly) that they were given the worst fatigue duties and the most dangerous patrol assignments". In discussing "dapping" and race relations, Paul Trotti in his book "Phantom Over Vietnam" had the following to say: "Another factor affecting unit morale and performance was the rise of the black-power movement in the armed forces. Though they had been in existence far longer, 1968 saw the beginnings of cohesive and effective black-power cells overseas. By 1969, the Marine Corps line units were showing the effects. Dissension in the ranks in combat could be disastrous, so when a cell was discovered, it's members would be split up. Moreover, things had come to pass in the Americal division that fraggings were becoming a routine affair, and Army personnel, black and white, were restricted from entering the Marine compound, except on official business".

Rare is a high school or college history textbook that discusses this plague that descended on the military in Vietnam during this conflict. Stoddard had this to say: "The worst part about being in base camp were the long lines. No matter where you went, there was always a line. They usually moved pretty fast until some of the guys started doing the "Dap" (a greeting some soldiers did where they would slap hands, elbows, and arms in a series of rhythmic moves). This would go on for anywhere between 5 and 20 minutes. If new "Dappers" joined in, then it would go on for what seemed like an eternity. At first, this exchange was interesting to watch but it quickly grew tiresome when more Dappers joined in and the line in front of you grew longer and longer. Eventually, this custom was curbed by the powers that be because so many soldiers were complaining". It is curious why Stoddard did not elaborate on the true source of "dapping", who did it, and why it was done.

Stoddard points to the futility of this conflict when he makes a reference in the battle of "Black Virgin Mountain". Similar to the occupation and futile subsequent relinquishment to the enemy of "Khe Sanh" and the firebase at Ripcord, Stoddard wrote an interesting passage here that certainly gave foreboding of the eventual outcome of this war. Occupied at the top by the NVA, Stoddard's tank unit was ordered to climb, conquer and eliminate the enemy on Black Virgin Mountain. Although it wasn't known to Stoddard and his men that the mountain was laced with tunnels the enemy used to easily slip away, it was so tall that it was shrouded in clouds. After describing death and carnage in this battle, Stoddard wrote: "The remaining days of our stay weren't as fierce as the first, just mostly small arm and machine gun fire. We never could see the enemy, but they sure let us know they were still out there. What we didn't know at the time was that this mountain held a labyrinth of tunnels as well as the largest underground hospital in Vietnam and was protected by a division of NVA soldiers. Just before dark later that day, we finally made it to the top. During the next few days, that's where the Armored Cavalry Assault Vehicles-ACAV's (later in the war called APC's-Armored Personnel Carriers) and infantry soldiers caught hell. They never did find the tunnel openings. Because of the rain, our 30 day mission was cut down to about 10. As we worked our way down the muddy mountain we were still receiving enemy small arm fire. I wondered if the rest of my tour in 'Nam would be this bad. I know I wasn't the only one who was glad to get out of there. Charlie, you can keep your Black Virgin Mountain". So much for the American fighting spirit!

In terms of incompetence, in Stoddard's story "Harry and the Grenade", he had a new driver for his tank named Harry. Stoddard described him as such: "I really liked him despite the rumors that he smoked pot. I have to admit he did look a little strange with his non-regulation long hair, beaded peace symbol hung around his neck, and a driver's compartment he'd painted with an unauthorized Day-glo psychedelic paint". After "playing" with the pin to a grenade and dropping it on the floor as Harry was driving the tank, almost killing all 4 crew members, Stoddard was able to put the pin back into the grenade without incident. Next, pushing the tank hard and fast to catch up to the remaining column of tanks, the engine burned out. As the thick, black and orange smoke poured out of the rear engine grill, Stoddard's tank stalled out, and he wrote the following: "The 4 of us stood there in the street, bewildered, looking at our poor smoldering tank. I heard Harry tell Chopper (Stoddard's gunner) "far out, man. really far out". I was so mad at Harry that for 2 cents I would have killed him".

If that story wreaks of incompetence, Stoddard's next story is even better. After the tank was towed to a maintenance depot at Bi en Hoya to have a complete engine wiring harness replaced, Standard incredulously wrote the following after the repairs were complete: "I walked into the hangar unexpectedly on the 6th day and caught the Sergeant off guard. I found the maintenance people pulling out the new harness! "What are you guys doing? Is something wrong?" I questioned. "We finished the job yesterday, but we're so bored we were going to do it again," he confessed. "You've got to be kidding, right?" I asked but he said no and if we didn't tell anyone, he'd have us on the road by late the next night. I agreed and headed to the club for a Tom Collins". I wonder if Henry Kissinger brought up these issues at the negotiating table with the North Vietnamese during the Paris Peace Talks in January, 1973.

Has anyone ever read Elizabth Kubler-Ross's book "On Death and Dying". If you have, you will relate to Stoddard's passage in "The Day The Music Stopped". Stoddard's tank is hit with a slow flying RPG and he was blown off of it. Obviously surviving to pen this memoir, his description of being dead is beyond description. His rendition of death is as such: "I felt the heat of the explosion and small pieces of metal and plastic dug into my face and chest. The last thing I remember thinking was "there go my sounds". The force of the explosion blew me high above the tank and then I started falling back down to the ground some 20 feet below. Instead of hitting the ground, I found myself falling into a deep, dark, black hole. I was scared and tried to get my balance when I saw a bright and glowing light. In a matter of seconds, I drifted into the middle of a long tunnel filled with constantly changing colored lights. Visions of very joyous occasions from my past suddenly flashed before my eyes. It's difficult to put into words the sights and sounds and feelings I experienced because they can't be compared to anything in reality. Ever so slowly, I landed on my feet in a breathtaking meadow where bright daisies covered the rolling hills and blue sky seemed to go on forever. Could this be Fiddler's Green, the place where all cavalry troopers go to rest? Then I experienced a feeling of love 10 times greater than the warmth of any human love I've ever known on earth. I walked toward a small group of people dressed in white who were approaching me with open arms. As I walked alone toward them, a very bright, clear light encircled me. Then, a resonant, yet reassuring voice spoke to me. "Jack, are you ready to come with me?" I remember this quite clearly. I replied, "Hell no, I can't go with you. I'm only 22!" Even as I blurted out those words, I knew that going back would be one of the hardest decisions I would ever have to make. it was so peaceful here. As soon as those words escaped my lips, I found myself lying next to my tank". Incredible story! No wonder Stoddard was afraid to talk about this near death occurrence for 30 years.

Getting back to the absurdity of this war, Stoddard wrote the following about every time his tank company stopped on the main highway in Vietnam. "It seemed to always be the same group who showed up whenever tankers were working the main highway: 2 small boys selling cokes and beer, another kid selling chunks of melting ice wrapped in straw and an old burlap bag, 2 young and generally not so good-looking hookers ("boom-boom" girls the GI's called them) and their old mama san who was in charge of negotiations. Sometimes she would also wash your clothes for you for a separate sum if there was a stream nearby". Are these the people Americans were fighting and dying for to "rescue" from the dread of Communistic rule? And what about our allies, the South Vietnamese Army, referred to as "ARVN's?" To that, Stoddard, on a joint operation with them, had this commentary: "We had been informed a platoon-sized unit of ARVN Rangers would be here at 4:00 P.M. and for us to be nice to them and support them the best we could,. Sure enough, a bit later we could see 28 Rangers walking toward our location. They even had 2 girls on a moped with them! It turned out these women were the wives of two of the soldiers and they were here to cook their nightly dinners. Like I said, this was the first time I'd ever worked around these soldiers and I thought how tidy they all looked in their skintight, tailored uniforms. The second thing I noticed was that they didn't seem to carry a lot of ammunition. Maybe the girls would go back and get it on their moped. To most of us in Vietnam, the ARVN's were a considered a strange bunch. It seemed they didn't take the war as seriously as we did".

There are so many amazing stories in this book, I can't even mention even half. There is the incredible story of when Stoddard shot a canister round at a VC who was rowing a wooden canoe in a free fire zone at night. Firing his 90 mm gun and blowing the canoe in a million pieces, thus killing all occupants, Stoddard didn't realize an ARVN soldier had put his hammock up right next to his turret. When Stoddard fired his big gun at the canoe, the concussion from the canister round blew out the ARVN soldier's eardrum.. Then, there is the story of Frank Saracino, from Colorado, who was Stoddard's close friend and roommate. Stoddard was there when Saracino walked into an ambush, was shot in the head and killed instantly by a gunshot to his head. Stoddard must have found it difficult to write the following: "We found Frank lying in a ditch. it looked like the enemy had tried to take his boots off and his weapon was also missing. The 4 of us almost religiously carried Frank off the battlefield. He had been shot in the head by the 51-caliber machine gun. He never knew what hit him". At the end of this book, Stoddard makes peace with the ghosts of the past in "Going to see Chris" and "Closing the Door for Frank" where he visited the deceased families of both Chris Cordova, killed by friendly fire 4 months after Stoddard left Vietnam for good, and Frank Saracino. Both stories are very touching, but the reader will pick up Stoddard's "survivor guilt" as he wrote that if he were in Vietnam, Stoddard could have called of the U.S. air strike that accidentally killed Cordova..

Certainly, Stoddard himself left out stories too difficult to tell. Many a soldier would easily have preferred to leave the past alone and not recount gruesome stories of death. An example of this is Bruce R. Lake's book "1500 Feet Over Vietnam", who waited 25 years to tell his story of being a Chinook H-46 pilot, and writing such hard memories as this: "On trips we had to bring back many badly decayed bodies of Marines who had died in action. That's the first time I had to resort to using Wrigley's Juicy Fruit gum. We used to keep a pack in the sleeve of our flight suit. You'd chew a couple of pieces and stick the moist gum on your upper lip just below your nose to help mask the odor. To this day when I taste or smell Juicy Fruit gum it reminds me of death. Even the sight of the bright yellow package makes me think about it. The troops on the ground always hated us to have to do this, but there were times when the odor was so strong that some pilots had the crew rig up external cargo nets to carry the bodies back. Many times when we got back to Hill 55 we would see piles of bodies being carried on the little 4-wheel drive "Mules". It's a sight that isn't easy to forget and served as another vivid reminder of what the war was really like, making me wonder what we were doing over there in Vietnam. Was it really worth it? What a tragic loss of life this whole war caused. If we could have fought the way we wanted to we probably could have won, but even if we did not win we just might have felt better about it. In the States we had been trained how to fight and survive but when we got over here there seemed to be lots of restrictions on how or when we could fight back. I still wondered if it was really worth it. I didn't live or work with the Vietnamese but it seemed to me that their life style wouldn't be any different even if we hadn't gone over there in the first place".

Stoddard wrote 2 similar stories. One was when his friend Frank Saracino was killed. There was a wounded medic that had witnessed how 75 First Cavalry soldiers he was part of had walked into an NVA ambush, with 20 men mowed down instantly by a concealed enemy machine gun nest. Certainly a memory to forget, Stoddard with great pain remembered the following for inclusion into this book: "I remember this next part as if it were yesterday. I saw a medic crawl over to the pile of bodies trying to give some aid. He didn't have a rifle, only his aid bag as he tried to perform his magic. I watched helplessly as a series of bullets tore through his body, then he fell to the ground. This brave, wounded soldier then got up on his knees, looked me straight in the eyes, and pointed to where the fire was coming from. I nodded back to him that I understood and when more rounds hit and killed this young hero, I saw the smoke from the muzzle of the machine gun". After blowing up the NVA machine gun nest, and killing all occupants, Stoddard remembered this about this incident: ""I'll never forget the look on his face. He knew he was going to die, but he tried to help those wounded Calvary guys anyway. If it was not fore his selfless dedication, many more lives would have been lost because no one else could see where that machine gun was located. Even though we weren't in the same unit and I didn't know his name, this medic is a hero in my book".

If this story isn't enough, the next and last anecdote of this review will clearly show the reader why Stoddard never wanted to write this book and go to his grave with the following memory. Ordered to fly on a gun ship in triple canopy jungle to rescue any survivors of a downed Loach (OH-46 Light Observation Helicopter) that was shot out of the sky by NVA anti-aircraft fire, Stoddard painfully recalled this horrible event: "As we approached the crash site, I could see the smoke from the burning Loach and also from the rockets being fired by the cobra gun ships. We made it, We were now on the ground! Now the ARP's (Areo Rifle Platoon) would take charge of this small plot of jungle My squad was now within 30 yards of our objective, a small 2-man helicopter called a Loach. It was completely burnt and dense black smoke was pouring out of what once was a crew compartment. I tried to locate the missing pilots but I couldn't see them from where we were. We had to get closer. It took us 5 minutes to cover the 30 yards. I will never forget the horror I saw next. Our 2 pilots were lying side by side next to the chopper. They were both burnt to death, their bodies still smoldering with portions of their flight suits melted to their bodies. The VC had tried to remove their boots (note-the enemy also tried to do the same to Frank Saracino's corpse). You could hardly tell these 2 bodies were once men they were burnt so badly, These 2 poor souls were now just crispy pieces of burnt meat. I started to get the dry heaves. I wanted to vomit but couldn't. I had a job to do. I had to get these 2 young pilots out of there".

Stoddard continued his grim story. "This is only the second time I'd ever been real close to our dead. With silent honor, we carefully wrapped each body in a poncho. Body parts were falling off as we lifted the bodies onto the ponchos. My squad tried to lift them up, but they were just too heavy for us. Each pilot must have weighed close to 300 pounds. Jarvis cut down 2 tree limbs to put through the plastic ponchos. "I've seen this before, Jack," he said. Burned bodies are really heavy. We're going to have a hard time carrying these guys out". Between the artillery and the cover fire, we managed to get the 2 pilots to a clearing almost a thousand yards away. It took us almost an hour to get there. We were all exhausted and even had to drag the poor pilots for the last 20 feet. The smell of burnt flesh had finally gotten the best of me and as we laid our pilots on the ground, I fell to my knees and vomited on the jungle floor. I didn't care if anyone saw me or not. Some things are just too much for any man to handle and this was one of them".

I have not told the reader of this review the whole book. There are many more stories, some actually quite hilarious. The reader will read the absurd story of Standard's crew having a pet chicken, the amusing story of how Stoddard's tank crew made a projectile partially filled with chewing gum, which Stoddard's comrades couldn't understand why enemy dead soldiers killed by one of Stoddard''s blasts was covered with the sticky substance, and when one of Stoddard's crew members, who couldn't find a place to dispose his urine, shot it out the turret. You will laugh when you read who it came down on and where. There is also another story about this same crew member, Joe O'Neil (nicknamed "Stick") who on a trip into Saigon, saw a Saigon cop wearing shiny black boots, a shiny gold badge, neatly creased trousers and sunglasses, and mistaking him for a U.S. General, saluted him! Stoddard recalled the only two seasons Vietnam had, the dry season and the Monsoon season, where he claimed you could set your watch on it raining twice a day, everyday, at the same time! I have intentionally left out half of Stoddard's experiences in this book. History owes a huge dept to Mrs. Stoddard and their children for this historical masterpiece to see the light of day and not go with Jack Stoddard to his grave untold! A MUST READ for any Vietnam Veteran!