I was thinking about the American Viet Nam war and some of the people I knew that took part in it. I do not know if they were heroes while taking part, but I do know they are people forever changed.

One, a young man who went by the name Sailor. Sailor graduated in time for the 1967 Tet Offensive, one of the heaviest fought ground campaigns in the Viet Nam war. I wish I could add more to the story about Sailor other than he graduated, joined up and was killed less than six months later. He was a high school hero to me, but I was not a part of his life. Four other young men from my area joined Sailor over the next year.

Another man I met went by the name Skip. I never knew his real name. Skip had been a Navy Seal, and had seen some serious action during his tour. Skip was a big guy – about six feet tall and well muscled. Skip came back, and married his high school sweetheart a year later. they were deeply in love. Skip had a problem, and his wife suffered terribly for it. Skip suffered from war nightmares. In the six months I knew Skip and his wife, he almost choked her to death three different times – all in his sleep. Their marriage became too dangerous for Skip’s wife, and three close calls were more than enough. When a fourth nightmare happened, Skip was crushing his wife’s throat, and knocked a few teeth out before waking. Their marriage was officially over even though they were still in love with each other.

I drank beer at night with a guy named Bill for a week or so in Colorado. Bill was a wandering transient who could not come to terms with his part of the war. Bill had been a medic in Viet Nam. Medics were sent into direct fire to help care for and remove wounded men. Bill had saved some men during his tour, but many others were left dying as they moaned their lives away as he tried to help. Bill told me he tried to remain a human being do the right thing when he was in Viet Nam. One day Bill received permission to vaccinate a small village of people for local diseases. When Bill came through the village again five day later, all the villagers had had their right arms chopped off. It was punishment for accepting American aid. That was one sight too many for Bill

Then there is Virgil. Virgil was in Viet Nam to assist and help the Vietnamese protect their own people. Besides the normal fighting and killing, Virgil watched a close friend be blown up by a grenade as he picked up a little girl that wandered in out of the jungle and set her on his lap. She had been booby trapped. For years afterwards Virgil was an angry man. He argued with everyone and nothing but solitude and distance from people kept him out of fights.

A few of these men I admired and called friends. Some of them I disliked at times, but not as much as they dislike themselves. All of them hold a place in my heart and memories, and I think about them from time to time. I do not know if any of them ever earned the right to be called ‘Hero’. These men and other men like them deserve respect and remembrance for the sacrifices they made and the problems they live with. They all tried to do what they thought was the most important and correct action at the time.

I know recent returning warriors have their own nightmares and some of them will never be the young men that left to do what they thought was the right thing to do. When you meet these men, and perhaps women too, and they appear as accidents looking for places to happen, keep in mind, that sometime you can not judge a book by its cover.