VIETNAM’S LASTING SHADOW: MEMORIES OF A VETERAN’S NEW YEAR

New Year’s Day in Vietnam was never about reflection or hope. It wasn’t even about the future. It was just one more day to survive in the jungle, to navigate a world of trauma, loss, and fear. The war consumed us and, with it, our sense of time. Every day, we woke up in a new patch of hell. Panic attacks were constant companions, just as much as the rifles slung over our shoulders. We never realized it then, but we were living with PTSD long before we knew its name.

The New Year didn’t change anything in Vietnam — it was just another day closer to the end of the tour. We didn’t celebrate or make resolutions. The goal was simple: survive. And even as I write these words now, years after the war ended, I can still feel the weight of those days.

Now, I live in peace. The pressures of building a life after my service are gone. There’s a quiet rhythm to my days with Bev. We’ve never been party people. We don’t drink, don’t smoke, and we eat a vegetarian diet — simple choices, but they’ve kept us healthy and happy. We’re content. Our kids think we’re boring, but they understand. The relationship, the bond we’ve built over the years, is everything. It’s the one thing I cherish more than anything.

Vietnam is still a part of me but no longer defines me. I wrote about it in Vietnam Uncensored — 365 Days…