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RECOLLECTIONS: We Were The Enemy!

By Bill Shunas

I Was Coming to the Horrible Awakening That WE WERE THE ENEMY!

(The following story is reprinted from an earlier issue of THE VETERAN, and from the booklet of "Recollections" put out by VVAW. We reprint it for two reasons: it is a good story with a point we often forget about Vietnam and second, because we have nothing better. If we could print half the "recollections" that various people have promised us, we go on for many, many pages. But we cannot print them until you get them to us. Please try—there is no more effective tool for pointing out the nature of the war in Vietnam than some of the "recollections". And high schools are full of youth who should have the chance to read them.)

Our jeep moved slowly along the crowded road. Highway 1 was always crowded. Bicycles, motorbikes and Lambrettas filled with Vietnamese as well as our jeeps and 1/4 ton trucks and other equipment made for some strange highway traffic. Two different societies—the motorized U.S. Army and the Vietnamese peasants—were thrown together, getting in each other's way.

We finally reached the cut-off road to Phu Loi and turned off. Away from the traffic we were in a different world—the peaceful countryside. Officially we had some business to take care of in Phu Loi, but unofficially the three of us just had some free time and wanted to get away from the base.

Lots of GIs have talked about how beautiful a country Vietnam is—its true. Driving along that road was so peaceful. We only ran into a few American vehicles. Here and there would be parked off the side of the road a jeep where a GI would be fooling around with a short-time girl.

Most of the people we saw were Vietnamese peasants going about their daily routine. Women walked along the side of the road in twos and threes. They all wore the traditional outfits: black silk pants with the wide-brimmed conical straw hats. Children could be seen playing in the dirt of the hamlets. Here and there an old man could be seen standing in the doorway of one of the wooden shacks.

That country was something else. We passed thick green forests and brightly painted Buddhist temples. Small green stalks were shooting up above the water in the rice paddies where the peasants were working alongside their buffalo; It was hard to believe that all this was in the middle of a war.

We finished our business in Phi Loi and headed back. Along the way we decided to stop at a village to get a drink of cocoanut milk. When we pulled over to the side of the road, about fifteen or twenty villagers came up to and surrounded the jeep. A few were old ladies, but most were young children.

"Hey, GI, you want buy drink?"

"You want buy coca cola?"

The kids were cute. Some seemed to be very young. One climbed on my partner's lap in the front, and two girls got in the back seat with me.

"Hello," I said.

"Hello," they said.

"How are you?" I asked.

They didn't answer. Either they didn't know any more English or they were too awed by these Americans and their big jeep. Cute. It was a nice day.

It all happened so fast. A young girl asked Jim in the front if he wanted to buy some melons.

"No thanks."

"Why not?" she asked.

"I don't want any."

"You have candy for me?"

(Was this a World War II movie I wondered.) We didn't have any.

"You give me money," she said.

I was confused, surprised, a little hurt, on edge. The little girl told Jim, "You sonofabitch! Fuckin' GI."

She walked around the jeep and kicked it a few times. The two little girls jumped out of the back seat. "Fuckin' GI's. Motherfucker bastards," the girl continued.

An old woman in the crowd cried out, "Motherfucker. Cocksucker. No give us money. Bastards! Bastards!"

It was fast becoming ugly. The whole crowd was yelling at us. All these women and small children. A woman stuck her face right up to mine. "Fuck you, GI."

Jim gently, but firmly picked up the kid in the front seat and placed her on the ground. He started the engine and moved the jeep slowly forward. Some women were in the way, but he kept moving and they jumped aside, kicking the sides of the vehicle. Once past the edge of the crowd, he hit the gas pedal hard and sped away as the crowd screamed and threw fruit as us.

We rode silently back to base, each lost in his thoughts. So much for winning hearts and minds. I had come to Vietnam thinking we were doing the right thing and helping these people fright the enemy. Because of this and a few other things I saw, I was coming to the horrible awakening that just maybe, we were the Enemy.

—Bill Shunas