365 DAYS IN A NIGHTMARE: A VIETNAM VETERAN’S REFLECTIONS ON COMBAT AND CIVILIAN LIFE

The Vietnam War was brutal. It was a soldier’s life — grueling, unrelenting. You woke up in danger, went to bed in danger, and lived in it all day. The loss of comrades, the violence, the destruction — it was a life beyond what you thought bearable.

Were there good times? Sure, there were moments. You laughed with the guys, made fun of the officers, and found a bit of absurdity in the madness. Those were the moments you remembered. But every day in that country was a battle, not just against the enemy but against the fear in your gut. It was a fight to keep going when everything around you screamed for you to stop.

The Army shaped us. It forged us in ways we didn’t expect. You went through training, then combat, and it marked you. You didn’t forget it. You couldn’t. The trauma stayed with you. It lived in you, and it didn’t fade with time. It grew sharper, more invasive.

You had to make choices. Hard ones. Impossible ones. You sent men to die. You knew it, but you did it anyway. Injury, hunger, sickness — they didn’t matter. You didn’t get to stop. Your job was to keep your brothers alive, no matter the cost. It wore on you, wore you down. But you didn’t have a choice.