The Americans called it the Vietnam War – the Vietnamese refer to it as the American War. By whatever name, it was a great tragedy. And although the shooting stopped in April 1975, the war and its aftermath rage on in a different way in the consciousness of Americans and Vietnamese alike.
Through powerful personal narratives and photographs, Voices From Vietnam revisits the emotions and experiences that have defined the lives of the men, women and children affected by the war, both American and Vietnamese, on the battlefront and at home. It relays how extraordinary men and women who still carry with them the visible – and more often invisible – scars of war have sought to overcome the horrors of this experience and how it has transformed their lives.
Experience the personal reflections of yesterday's war with today's perspective in the words of General Westmoreland, Kim Phuc (the napalm girl), Cardinal O’Connor, Ambassador Le Van Bang and many others. Voices From Vietnam, a unique, 264 page coffee-table book, not only includes 70 inspiring stories and over 170 captivating photographs taken during the war and some thirty years later, a chronology, map and index, but also an extensive resource guide of support for services for those still needing assistance in healing the wounds of war.
***Purchase a copy of Voices From Vietnam, personally autographed by the author. Hard covered books are $40. Soft covered are $25. Please see contact page to place an order.
Selected Excerpts from Voices From Vietnam
“We were inexperienced, hardly more than boys, in the adult world of war,
and we were terrified…”
“They stole all of our valuables and without any care or concern,
they used a hammer and a screwdriver to extract the gold teeth from the mouths of the old people.”
“My life has been full of miracles…The fire of bombs burnt my body,
the skill of doctors mended my skin, but it took the power of God’s love to heal my heart.”
“Vietnam is a permanent part of my life. It’s a shadow on me.”
Toai married, and after eight years he and his wife discovered a great secret they had hidden from each other – they were both spies working for the North.
Bich, in 1992, waits in Saigon to be transported somewhere to the West. Born of an American soldier and a Vietnamese woman, she asks everyone she saw to tell her father that she and her mother were still waiting for him.
His name is Johnny and he lives in Oklahoma.
Sand filters softly between my toes. I am on China Beach, the central coastline of Vietnam. The sea is flat. The sand is empty of footprints. A few sea baskets dot the miles of the white blanket of sand that form the beach. I feel the gentleness of the wind as I walk toward the sea.
I bend down and touch the sand. It smells sweetly of innocence and purity. The sand has forgotten the time when it smelled of violence and suffering and was soaked with blood and death. It has been able to forget, because the waves of time removed all evidence of the past.
I slowly drop to my knees and dig a hole deep enough to reach the old sand and I search my pocket for a letter I wrote in America. The letter describes the remorse and great pain I feel over my actions during the war – the letter asks for forgiveness. I place my letter into the hole and cover it with fresh, new sand. I sit silently. I cry.
I resume my walk. I smell the sea and feel the sand filtering softly between my toes. I look back over my unburdened shoulders and know that the circle is now complete. That I, and maybe someday all veterans from both countries, will be able to let go of the past and live in peace.