'WE BURNED EVERY HUT'
Letter to a GI's Dad WE BURNED EVERY HUT' This report was published recently as a letter-to-the-editor of the Akron, Ohio, Beacon-Journal. —The Editors TTere are portions of a letter I have...
...They should understand that war doesn't consist only of two armies made up of young men in uniform, armed and firing at each other across the open fields, with bugles blowing and flags waving...
...It was a small rural network of villages and the people were incredibly poor...
...We burned every hut in sight...
...Excuse the poor writing but I was pretty emotional, I guess, even a little shook...
...We walked away and left him there...
...I have not been a dove as far as the Vietnamese war is concerned, though I have not been a strong hawk either...
...As he pulled the pin the old man got excited and started jabbering and running toward my buddy and the hut...
...My sixteen-year old daughter had read it before I did and when I went to her room to ask her if I could read the letter, I found her crying...
...The Vietcong fill their minds with tales saying the GI's kill all their men...
...My unit commanders, however, chose to think that these bunkers are offensive...
...I believe what he has to say will be of interest to you and your readers: Dear Mom and Dad: Today we went on a mission and I'm not very proud of myself, my friends, or my country...
...After he threw it, and was running for cover (during this four-second delay), we all heard a baby crying from inside the shelter...
...The Editors TTere are portions of a letter I have received from my son, who is now stationed in Vietnam...
...Each one has a dried mud bunker inside...
...My buddy told the old man to get away from the hut and since we have to move quickly on a sweep, just threw a hand grenade into the shelter...
...My son enlisted in the Army, asked to be sent to Vietnam, and backed the Government's strong policy toward the war in Vietnam—at least he did when he left this country last November...
...The huts here are thatched palm leaves...
...My last look was: an old, old man in ragged, torn, dirty clothes on his knees outside the burning hut, praying to Buddha...
...The man came up to me then, and bowed with his hands in a praying motion over and over...
...He didn't say anything, just kept bowing, begging me not to burn his home...
...We were both there, alone, and he was about your age, Dad...
...When the ten helicopters landed this morning, in the midst of these huts, and six men jumped out of each "chopper," we were firing the moment we hit the ground...
...So, everyone is crying, begging, and praying that we don't separate them and their husbands and fathers, sons and grandfathers...
...It is then that we burn these huts and take all men old enough to carry a weapon and the "choppers" come and get them (they take them to a collection point a few miles away for interrogation...
...There is a four-second delay on a hand grenade...
...The American people should understand what a war such as this does to our young men whom we send overseas to carry out our Government's foreign policy...
...Does this give you an idea...
...The children's fragile bodies were torn apart, literally mutilated...
...The three of us dragged out the bodies onto the floor of the hut...
...These bunkers are to protect the families...
...Then we got "on line" and swept the area...
...With a heavy heart, I hesitatingly put the match to the straw and started to walk away...
...It was horrible...
...Needless to say, I was very much disturbed to read this letter...
...I checked and made sure no one was in it, then got out my matches...
...We looked at each other and burned the hut...
...There was a hut at a distance and my squad leader told me to go over and destroy it...
...An oldish man came out of the hut...
...My unit burned and plundered their meager possessions...
...I threw down my rifle and ran into the now blazing hut and took out everything I could save—food, clothes, etc...
...The old man was just whimpering in disbelief outside the burning hut...
...Afterwards, he took my hand, still saying nothing, and bowed down, touching the back of my hand to his forehead...
...Yes, we burn all rice and shoot all livestock...
...A GFs Dad...
...Then they watch in terror as we burn their homes, personal possessions, and food...
...There was nothing we could do...
...Well, Dad, you wanted to know what it's like here...
...They were all huddled together...
...He looked so sad...
...A GI, not understanding, stopped the old man with a football tackle just as my buddy threw the grenade into the shelter...
...The women wail and moan...
...That is what the old man was trying to tell us...
...Some of the guys are so careless...
...Your Son The rest of my son's letter goes on to describe what the routines of his life in Vietnam are like...
...But I think that the American people should understand what they mean when they advocate a continuation and even an escalation of our war effort in Vietnam...
...I wish I could have cried but I just can't any more...
...After the explosion we found the mother, two children (ages about six and twelve, boy and girl) and an almost newborn baby...
...Kind of like air raid shelters...
...His white hair was blowing in the wind and tears were rolling down...
...We fired into all the huts we could...
...So every hut we find that has a bunker, we are ordered to burn to the ground...
...Dad, it was so hard for me to turn and look at him in the eyes but I did...
...Let me try to explain the situation to you...
...I guess what I am saying is that whatever course American public opinion backs should be supported by knowledge and understanding of the concrete results of that course and not by illusions...
...The families don't understand this...
...I asked her the reason, and she replied by handing me the letter...
...We kept on walking, then the three of us separated...
...The shelter was small and narrow...
...Today a buddy of mine called "La Dai" ("Come here") into a hut and an old man came out of the bomb shelter...
Vol. 31 • July 1967 • No. 7
