These visions and thoughts continue to bounce around inside a former grunt’s head fifty-some years after serving in the Vietnam War. Read his short story to see if his struggles are any different from your own.
By Retired U.S. Army Staff Sergeant Daniel Dobbs
What those who never humped the jungles or rice paddies in Vietnam can’t see is the filthy exhausting sweaty dirt and grime from crushed bugs and cuts and scratches from thorns that get infected within hours. The shock of hearing a twig break, the snap of a weapon safety being changed to fire, or the click of a booby trap before it goes off.
The anger from “wait-a-minute” vines tugging on you and holding you up while the rest of your team is walking away.
Sleeping on the rain-soaked ground with all kinds of insects, leeches, and snakes crawling on you, biting and sucking your blood, not to mention the rats, the size of medium dogs, and worst of all… tigers.
Hoping the guy who relieved you is awake. You turn your head and look at him in the darkness and he looks down at you and gives you a smile letting you know he is awake and has your back. Hearing a mortar fire in the distance and hoping the round isn’t coming your way.
Lying there when B-52s are bombing a few clicks away and vibrating the very ground you are on. Hearing the welcome reassuring sound of that Huey and the outgoing artillery fire knowing they are out there when and if you need them.
Always expecting another tremendous explosion behind you like the one that took the life of the soldier that I didn’t even know, as he was trying to help me. I never had the chance to thank you or say, “I’m sorry!” I carry the scars both physically and emotionally from when you died. I still see your blood on my hands and hear your last gasp of air as God took you to be with Him, while I held your head in my hands.
Seeing a ghostly figure in the early morning fog moving in front of you. Is that a rifle in his hands? Am I seeing things? “Lord, please don’t let him hear my heart pounding in my ears.” Gotta wake the guys but I don’t dare move, can’t move. Should I shoot? He sees me. He is looking into my eyes. He is bringing his AK-47 up. I see the flash as his rifle goes off.
DAMN, another bad dream. It’s been over fifty years. When will the nightmares stop coming? Every night when the lights go off, I’m back there with my buddies before they etched their names on that wall.
I have seen the elephant
I love you brothers
Mississippi 31 OUT!
This article was originally featured on the website: Operation Triumphus. Humping the Nam – Operation Triumphus
What about the rest of you Vets, how many of you are still finding yourselves on a former battlefield – reliving those events? Are you getting help?
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CherriesWriter - Vietnam War website 
Thank you for your story brother. I was a combat corpsman with the marines. I was in the bush for 31 months I still see faces of my marines. Some died but thankfully most made it back to a stateside hospital. The dreams stay with you I have them every night and sometimes during the day.
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I was an 18-year-old infantryman when I was shipped to Vietnam. Before my 19th birthday. I remember clear as day the miserable days in triple canopy jungles with the rain coming down none stop. The ponchos helped a little but getting sleep was not on the menu! In the morning, we would dig holes to bury our C-ration trying to hide our presence in the area. We were not 100% alert, we were literally walking zombies! The days seem like weeks, and my mental alertness was very low. In the dry season, the heat factor would suck the water we drank from our bodies. The VC and NVA were not our only enemies, malaria mosquitoes and the most poisonous snakes in the world were everywhere. My God, we lost 60,000 soldiers, many still teenagers in that war including the MIAs not recovered!
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All of this also existed for the mechanized Infantry, the Armored Cav. units, the tank units and the Artillery units, and any and all other forward combat units. The death, destruction, fear were then and are today always a part of are lives. I thank God every day that I am amount the fortunate people who returned home alive and I never want to forget those brave and honorable men and women who gave their all so we could be free.
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This could only be written like this by someone who’d been there and been through it all. Brilliant – but sad. Terribly sad.
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The stories are always a little different….and always almost identical. For me the memories are in a mental box that I, fortunately, have to open to see them. The nightmares/dreams seem to be in the past. I will always remember the brothers I fought with and the ones who died, but now I bring their memories up by choice. I only hope that all who were there can someday manage the terror and loss and anger and fear because, as a generation, we are running out of time. You are NOT alone.
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Like it.
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Great article! I am a fellow SSG and platoon leader. This article captures a small segment of what we faced and brought home with us. It is spot on and well written. There have been movies, books and articles showing some of the physical aspects that impacted the Vietnam infantryman, however, fall way short of depicting the level of fear, emotion, and gut wrenching stress we brought home. It has terrorized our nights and took away so much of our life. I wish I had the ability to give others the ability to feel and understand what we went through and still wrestle with today, something only few other than the Vietnam infantryman can relate and understand. Welcome home Brothers anf God bless.
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Same-same!
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This man’s story brought tears to my eyes. There are so many wearing the same boots and it’s heartbreaking. Thank you for shining a light on it, John!
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Truly a great portrayal of the life of an infantryman there, and the PTSD that too often followed it! Thanks, sergeant for writing this. And, Welcome home!
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I look forward to reading these stories not for fun or entertainment but to constantly learn about a trip I never had to make and am thankful every day. When I registered for the draft I was classified 1-H. before we ask, my buddy and I thought the H was for HOT. We just knew we were going. I already had 2 brothers over there and a lot of friends. Some came back, some didn’t, some left a lot over there, some brought back a lot. I am thankful every day for the men and women that endured the bad sides of nature and the evil sides of the enemy. I will always hold the hate for that dagger they called “ agent orange” than not only took my brother and several friends but is still taking people 40+ years later. God Bless you all. The H was for “ holding” as they were eliminating the draft.
Sincerely,
Steve R. Cushman
A-Lert Construction Services
Fredonia, Kansas 66736
620-607-4035 Office
620-870-1454 Cell
GOD BLESS THE SOLDIERS THAT KEEP US SAFE AND FREE.
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Hi, JP,
This is a heartbreaking but true account for many of the soldiers that left Nam. I had family members and very dear friends who were there. Some didn’t make it back and the ones who did still battle with some issues. The memories never leave them.
Shalom shalom
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What a powerful, heartbreaking piece! Thank you for always shining a light on the suffering our military men and women carry with them. Our country asks for soldiers to be willing to give their lives but doesn’t do enough for those who come back. 😥
Yvette M Calliero 🙂
http://yvettemcalleiro.blogspot.com
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Am interested in all your articles. It helps me to feel closer to my Marine brother, who was KIA in 1965. And now to the recent loss of my Army partner who passed from several Agent Orange conditions. He’d served 3 tours in ‘Nam.
Thank you for what you do.
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Several bits of experience any boonie rat can recall. The story is well put together. The 3/506th, 101st worked the Central Highlands
with boulders as big as dump trucks in some areas. Thank you.
Received medical attention 2001-2012 Michael E. DeBakey Houston VA Medical Center.
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I appreciate your posts. They are well written.
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My song about PTSD “Take Another Puff” https://youtu.be/Ynf4m1jSkxM
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God bless you, welcome home. Get some rest, I have your back. We can do this. You’re home!
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I think everyone who was there was scared in an ever increasing order. Once you landed, you were there. Anything could happen, at anytime. A cook, a clerk, a supply Sargent all had that thought in their head. Will I make it outta here? Will a rocket or a sapper get to where I am everyday? Another step, Truck drivers, flight line workers, ammo dump guys. I sure hope they don’t attack us. How do we live through this F..n place going up in gigantic blast? Will they ambush our convoy? Air crews, rescue crews all tight gutted wondering if a piece of something is going to come through the floor and take their heads off. They were going out to support or rescue the main participants in this story. They flew North, South, across Imaginary borders, knowing for certain that if they went down, recovery teams would still be looking for their remains 50 years later. Then, on top of the heap, are the poor SOBS out there in the boonies, in the Bamboo, in the hold ’em thorn bushes, about to step on a mine or into a pungi pit. They were out there with the FNGs that they didn’t want to know the names of because they might be gone stepping into the next clearing. Yes, I firmly believe every man & woman that set foot in the country or that served in or around Aircraft, ships, Trucks, Tracks, Tanks or anything else that turned a wheel remembers and will never let go of those thoughts about “Their” NAM.
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I can’t tell you the tears I have shed while reading these posts, comments, and stories. My husband was in WWII. He and I were working a farm in WNY and raising 6 children, and I am ashamed to admit I was hardly aware of the Vietnam War. We were just struggling to survive. I became interested a a few years back at the age of 80, when I became a writer. (Better late than never.) It possessed me! I read books, watched movies, scoured the websites for anything I could learn. The veterans stories were almost more than I could bear. I felt I had to rectify all those years of ignorance. What I came away with was the horror–not only of the war, but of the mistreatment and abuse by a divided country. I chose to concentrate on the returning veterans and their plight in my writings. It has become my way of apologizing for my ignorance. A writer friend was among those who demonstrated against the war and he asked me why I didn’t write about them. I didn’t know how to answer except to say that those serving were the ones willing to give the ultimate sacrifice for their country, just as my husband had. I lived through his nightmares and understand a little about the effects of war, especially one as unpopular and unwinnable as Vietnam was. God Bless all of you and grant you peace!
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If you were Grunt in the Boonies, you have memories!
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This article describes me ! Sounds , sights , smell and overall feelings in general ! Dreams of people , places , situations ! It’s all real over and over ! I was a Corpsman with a CUPP Unit around Hill 55 Mike 3/5 and a Line Company Kilo 3/5 1st Mar Div all over I Corps and the A Shau !
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Some things you forget……some you don’t. Your dreams and memories are yours and mine are mine.
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Sgt Dobbs describes what I’ve been feeling , hearing , seeing and sensing all these years ! He put it all in words that totally describe it ! I was a Hospital Corpsman with Mike and Kilo 3/5 in I Corps from 70-71 , this article hit the nerve !
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Great article and gives a grateful citizen like me appreciation for the misery that was endured fighting for our country. Personally, I will never take my freedom for granted. Thank you to all of you veterans who have fought with blood sweat and tears, and still struggle with the nightmarish memories of what you entered. No doubt, for all of you believers, your award shall be rich in heaven.
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