The gift of veterans’ stories
A student wrote to say that when the semester started she expected a history class to require her to “memorize dates and places and the names of generals.” Instead, “I was surprised and delighted to get to spend time learning about the stories of individual people who had been affected by wars.”
Of course, some dates, places and names of generals inevitably come into a course titled “America at War,” but she was right that the course emphasized individuals’ stories. You go to Harps or Walgreens or Callahan’s and see the guys with the “Vietnam Veteran” hats, the students were told. This class is mostly about trying to get a small sense of what they experienced.
Another student wrote: “I thought you might be interested to hear about a conversation I had today with a Vietnam vet.” He had recently begun a retail job, “and a man with a Vietnam veteran’s hat came by. As I was scanning his items I asked him about it and he was happy to find someone interested in his experience.” The student summarized what the veteran told him, and then wrote that “it was nice to know enough to ask relevant questions about what was going on” during the war.
This young person gave that veteran one of the greatest gifts anyone can give to another: personal interest. I’m sure the vet was struck by the experience of talking with a student who knew something about the Vietnam conflict. But that student was able to do so only because other veterans, and veterans’ family members, had shared their own gift—the gift of their memories.
The students in that class will remember very little, if anything, the professor said. But it’s unlikely they’ll forget watching a video clip of a veteran who lives in Gentry—who served both in Vietnam and Iraq—speaking of rescuing two orphaned Vietnamese girls who had lived for weeks on bugs and dirty water, or of the loss of David Schaefer, husband and father, to an improvised explosive device in 2009. It’s unlikely they’ll forget the video recording of a veteran who served in Vietnam as a “tunnel rat” and spoke of combat at its most intense. They won’t forget hearing from Melody, whose depth of feeling came through even 69 years after her father went missing in action in Korea.
These are hard stories but they are important stories, and so it’s a gift to hear them. This past semester, 11 students received many such gifts from veterans, most of them living in or near Siloam Springs. And the receipt of those gifts now makes it possible for those young people to have some small insight into the intensely human world of war.
Other gifts have come to the “War & Life” project lately. A woman who lives in Centerton sent us her grandfather’s unpublished memoir, and that has been made into a video titled “Kwajalein Diary.” We have recently posted readings of letters in the collection of a Siloam Springs WWII veteran, Richard Geer, who passed away last year. Locals and people in the area have sent us photos from WWII, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. We have made these into video photo albums. A local Vietnam veteran, Ken Leach of Siloam Springs, has lent us his letters, and from them we have made a video called “Quang Tri Diary.” A letter this veteran wrote to his parents from Vietnam on Christmas Eve 1969 is printed below.
Projects like this do more for learning than textbooks ever will.
If you are a veteran of a war zone who served in any capacity, or if you are a loved one of such a veteran, give us the gift of your story. Let us record your memories. If you have photographs or letters or an unpublished memoir that shed light on some small part of the world of war, let us turn them into something young people can learn from.
Christmas Eve letter from Vietnam, 1969
Dear Mom and Dad, Well, here it is Christmas Eve and all is well. We came to Qua Viet today. We go back across the river the 27th, so I won’t be able to call, but just know that I love you very much. We have bunker guard tonight, so maybe I’ll see old St. Nick come in tonight on the sand. As usual, it is raining again.
Well, I guess this will be the furthest I ever was from home during Christmas (or any other time), but I still have the Christmas spirit. I feel sorry for all the little kids and everyone over here who don’t have a Christmas or know the reason for Christmas.
I’m gonna sign off now, so behave and here’s wishing you the Merriest Christmas ever.
Ken
— Preston Jones lives in Siloam Springs and oversees the site “War & Life: Discussions with Veterans.” Contact him at pjones@jbu.edu or 479-524-7488. The opinions expressed are those of the author.