Tom McCabe, Writing to His Parents from the Hospital, Reflects on Being Back in the States After Fighting in Vietnam & Shaken After an Attack at Fire Base Mary Ann, an Anguished Young Sergeant Tells His Mom He Wants to “Get the Hell Out of Here”

“The idea that I might not return haunts me,” Pvt. Tom McCabe wrote to his parents in February 1969 while in advanced training.

One thing is very evident since having more contact with returning troops & that is that no one really feels like he is a great patriot or that he has fought for any apparent justifiable reason. Going to Nam, for the soldier, is simply an unavoidable obligation that one has to fight to stay alive to finish. It rather makes the whole affair more frustrating.

McCabe’s discouragement was understandable; he was plunging into the war at precisely the time overall U.S. forces were being reduced. (From a high of approximately 540,000 in 1968, troop levels dipped to 330,000 in 1970 and steadily declined in the years to follow.) Only months later McCabe was an infantryman in combat, prompting even more intense opinions on the war:

I saw a friend brought out on a home-made litter with his head hanging loosely over the end with his blonde hair hanging in loose curls. Now I know why war is so meaningless & wasteful—my heart is heavy. Not one square inch of Vietnam was worth that young soldier’s life—not to mention the 35,000 other boys that have so far died over here. It seems that firefights are the only time we get really good food in the field. It is undoubtedly to keep up the morale of the company, but it is a heck of a way to earn a hot meal…. It will never cease to amaze me how unorthodox this war seems compared to how I imagined it. There are no set lines of battle & it is usually over as fast as it starts.

The war was over for McCabe soon after writing this letter when he received a “million-dollar wound,” a nonfatal injury that was severe enough to guarantee a trip home. Recuperating at Fort Knox in Kentucky, McCabe expressed to his parents how elated he was simply to be alive. It was a joy marred, however, by thoughts of buddies still in Vietnam.

Howdy—

What a marvelous feeling to be back in this glorious country of ours. I am still awed every morning when I wake up and I can look out over the plush country side with its green grass, foiling forested hills and blue skies over head. It seems like I’ve been thru some sort of nightmare, but dawn has come and the bad dream has vanished with the coming of a new day. It is hard to believe that I was ever in the Nam, altho an occasional sharp pain in my shoulder brings back the reality of that experience. My wound is much better, altho it is still open, but the infection is no longer present. The doctor said that as soon as the bone is covered with muscle he can let me have a convalesence leave since I could take care of the wound my self I suspect that it won’t be for another two weeks before I’m ready to come home. It would only be for 14 days, but that is better than nothing. I would like to be home for my birthday and Dick’s and Big Steve’s wedding on Aug 2nd.

I have a slight guilty feeling leaving my good friends back in Nam, but I guess it wasn’t done intentionally so I didn’t exactly abandon them. I hope that they will all survive their miserable year overseas and return to resume natural and productive lives without a bitterness towards America. Even the short time that I was over in Nam I developed a bad taste for what our gov’t. was doing and the way the people allowed it to continue. For those who are subjected to more killing and destruction that bad taste may turn into a permenant dislike and distrust of our American system, and then this country will really suffer. I was very happy when you said that you wanted to send my friends a care package; I know they will enjoy it and the thought behind it. It is a shame that we can only do so little for these men over there fighting a futile war.—Well, so much for my thoughts about the war.

As it is now I have no idea what the army has in store for me. I doubt very strongly that they will send me back to Nam, but there is a slim chance that I can get sent to Korea. God forbid. Well there is nothing to do but sit and wait until I heal then try for a good stateside post; altho I wouldn’t mind being stationed in Japan—that is a beautiful country.

I hope all is well at home & I will write again soon!

Your ever-so-happy-to-be-back

son

As an ever dwindling number of American troops slogged on in Vietnam, the desire to forever abandon “this goddam useless piece of shit country,” as one GI bluntly put it in a letter home, burned at fever pitch. After surviving a ferocious assault by NVA sappers—enemy soldiers specially trained to penetrate and sabotage American bases—a twenty-year-old sergeant from Illinois wrote home to assure everyone he was unharmed. His sense of rage and desperation, however, could not be contained. (The sergeant’s name has been withheld for reasons of privacy.)

30 Mar. 71

Dear Mom and all,

We made it back to LZ Mary Ann. C Company was there 2 days till the attack started Sunday morn, at 230 AM. Mom we got our ass kicked badly. The dinks fired approx. 200 rds. of mortar and RPG’s, small arms, m-79, and heavy machine gun fire.

You wouldn’t believe it if you saw it. GI bodies laying all over, and buried. The NVA sappers numbered 100 and each had an Ak-47, grenades, and sapper charges.

I had to write to tell you I’m OK but my buddies are all dead. Out of our Infantry Company 21 killed, 29 wounded, and 27 of us are left to talk about the 5 hrs. of hell we went through.

We were extracted to Chu Lai for regrouping and resupply till we get enough men to replace the ones we lost. I’m OK and they didn’t see me. Thank God I was on the river side the only side they didn’t come up.

The total for the battle was 33 dead, 74 wounded, plus missing in action 12 (means blown to bits and can’t identify.) We killed 12 NVA.

Don’t worry I didn’t get another purple heart. As close as the lifers can figure the S. Vietnamese soldiers helped the NVA murder us. It was not even a fight. It was a massacre. The dinks ran from one ammo dump to another blowing it up with grenades or satchel charges.

All the men in the hospital are alive mostly because when the dinks stole their watches and wallets they went limp and played dead. This I saw 6 times. One buddy Mike who was shot in his chest and legs groaned when a dink kicked him to see if he was alive. John saw the dink beat his head with a rock till he died.

John layed 5 feet away and took 5 rds. from an AK-47 they thought he was dead. I patched a few guys up and played dead too. Ronald had both legs blown off and I saw him die from shock. I hate this war. Please don’t worry I’m AOK but scared to death to go out again.

Doubt if we’ll go to the bush again. The guys that are left can’t hear plus we are getting 40 or so new guys and we’ll have to train them before they go to battle.

Mom don’t worry OK., we are in Chu Lai. The dinks shoot rockets at Chu Lai but they always aim for HQ or airport or fuel dump. That’s 3 miles away. Usually they send helicoptors armed with rockets to shoot back.

I can’t sleep too good anywheres now. I’m drinking lots of Pepsi to try to forget the horror of Sunday morning. They found half of our Captain. He was a damn good guy and always took care of his men.

They had newspapermen and ABC cameramen here at the rear area talking to us and we told him the dying truth how the South Viets helped let the NVA in our wire. He then twisted the truth so the people who made the mistakes that costed 33 lives and 74 wounded. These men are a Colonel and the General. We had no recon elements searching the area, no M-60 machine gun ammo, no mortars to shoot up illumination so we could see who to shoot.

It’s too late to bitch, the truth will not be told to the U.S. because the war over here is ended. Bull Shit. They kill a lot of men and tell you only half the number. Mom I’m sick of this shit. Take care and don’t call the Red Cross because I’m OK. All the guys are getting told to call home but I won’t—OK? I am shaken up but really want to get the hell out of here. It’s not worth the cause. I have seen the real war and the jarred paper figures, lies and body counts.

Take care every one and I love you all so don’t worry I’ll come home in one piece. It’s late but I’m safe. I have to go drink some Pepsi. I haven’t got drunk in over a year.

Love

After two years of secret meetings in Paris, Secretary of State Henry Kissinger and the North Vietnamese signed the “Agreement Ending the War and Restoring Peace in Vietnam” on January 27, 1973. Among other stipulations, the treaty called for an immediate cease-fire between all parties and the withdrawal of American troops from Vietnam within sixty days. “As we have ended the war through negotiation,” President Nixon said in a message directed to the North Vietnamese, “let us now build a peace of reconciliation.” It was not to be. Although the U.S. finally had extracted its military forces from the conflict (leaving behind, in accordance with the peace talks, only a small diplomatic presence and truce observers), fighting between the Communists and the South Vietnamese continued for more than two years.