Nothing for the Nation: Who Got What Out of Iraq (2008). $19.95  

Hon. John N. Hostettler

Publius House, Evansville, IN

126 pp. with Appendices, Notes & Index plus Preface

ISBN 978-0-9800588-0-2

Reviewed by Gary E. May

May 25, 2008

Former Indiana Eighth District Congressman John Hostettler, one of only six Republicans to vote against S.J.Res. 23, “Authorization for the Use of Military Force” in Iraq, provides a concise, compelling and comprehensive, well documented rationale for this bold act that he admits was the costliest vote he ever cast. Hostettler’s efficient and effective narrative takes the reader through his doggedly determined quest to understand the justification for the war in the face of considerable pressure from his party and constituency to “go along”.

Hostettler, ever-embracing the “independent and conservative” moniker, explicates his honest, fact-driven quest (borderline obsession) for the justification for putting American lives in harm’s way. His conclusion was that there was insufficient justification—no proof of weapons of mass destruction or their locations; no evidence of a link between Iraq and al Queda;  no evidence that Iraq posed an imminent threat to the U.S. or its interests; and no other overarching national interest in invading Iraq. He memorialized this conclusion in his floor statement on October 8, 2002. His statement is included as Appendix B.

The Federalist Papers, the Holy Grail supporting conservative/libertarian policy positions, provide the framework for Hostettler’s investigation and set the benchmarks for proof of the necessity of war. Specifically, Hostettler relies heavily on the writings of John Quincy Adams, whom he quotes frequently. Using this framework, Hostettler shares the content of Pentagon briefings, published accounts, and personal observations as the grist to evaluate proffered “evidence” in support of war. He clearly had the advantage of being an “insider” who was privy to information that few “ordinary citizens” had, although he refers to himself as a House “Back Bencher”.

Hostettler’s version of the flimsy evidence in the run up to the invasion was prescient and while problematic for him at the time, has been vindicated by the events since March, 2003. Lest one be confused, Hostettler is still a partisan who does not forego opportunities to directly criticize President & Senator Clinton, Senator Kerry and other Democrats. But, this criticism is grounded in the simple, clear-headed principle that drove his deliberation: we need to be absolutely sure of the necessity before we commit American lives in war. He leads the reader to doubt that most of our elected officials at the time operated from this principle.

So, having found the “official” justification for the war wanting, Hostettler set out to find what the “real” reason was. I’ll not divulge the conclusion, but it won’t surprise many critics of the Bush administration and the war to know that there were (are) multiple reasons. A surprise is that one of them is not oil! True to his conservative roots, Hostettler finds clues to the “real” reason in the Federalist Papers.

He effectively uses the perspective of the “normal person”, as distinguished from the “smart people” in government to blow holes in the stated reasons for war. In one instance, he even cites a remarkably incisive question from a college journalism student put to someone “in the know” (a flummoxed Robert Novak) in July 2007 about the existence of weapons of mass destruction. Novak, an indisputable White House insider, alluded to “sources” in the administration that raised significant doubt of the existence of weapons of mass destruction. In other instances, the answers to queries from Hostettler were either not responsive to the question, illogical obfuscations or both. Using this “normal person” perspective, Hostettler debunks the administration’s justification for the war and Congress’ complicity in abandoning their Constitutional responsibility regarding declaring war.

Hostettler effectively uses what seems to be his innate curiosity in combination with the disciplined thinking required of being a successful mechanical engineer before being elected to the House to pursue answers to his questions. His straightforward, clear and direct writing style delivers his message quite effectively.

Hostettler is not a veteran of military service, but he understands the enormous implications of committing the American military to combat. For that understanding and for his willingness to take an unpopular and politically costly, but reasoned and thoughtful stand against committing troops without a clearly compelling reason, Hostettler deserves the praise and thanks of America’s veterans and military families. That he apparently didn’t try or succeed in convincing more of his colleagues to adopt his position is at least regrettable, for on October 10, 2002, the Congress granted the President the authority to “…use all necessary and appropriate force against those nations, organizations, or persons he determines planned, authorized, committed, or aided the terrorist attacks that occurred on September 11, 2001…” (p. 106).

As of this writing, the invasion and occupation of Iraq has cost 4080 American lives and an estimated 1.2 million Iraqi lives—this in spite of “justifications” for the war that shouldn’t have passed anyone’s smell test. There is plenty of blame to go around.

I am a combat disabled Vietnam veteran and registered Democrat who was not a fan of John Hostettler during his 12 years as my representative. I strongly oppose the invasion and occupation of Iraq. This book made me angry. It made me cry.

Its description of the manipulation of “facts” to fit a foregone conclusion and complicity is disheartening. I respect Hostettler as a vigilant and persistent champion of what’s right. His account lays bare the deadly processes of a “go along to get along” orientation and the failure of incumbents of elective office to responsibly execute their Constitutional responsibilities that produces the ongoing consequences we struggle with today.

Oh, that this arrogance and acquiescence would have produced Nothing for the Nation instead of hundreds of thousands of deaths and disabilities—on all sides, entanglement in a quagmire, and little hope for a tolerable resolution—consequences with which the nation will be dealing interminably!

A Temporary Sort of Peace: A Memoir of Vietnam

Jim McGarrah

Indiana Historical Society Press. 2007.

251 pages

ISBN: 987-0-87195-258-5

A Review by Gary E. May*

The title for this work immediately betrays what McGarrah believes about his Vietnam experiences—it is not easily wrestled into submission and there may be additional demons lurking in the recesses of the vast memory files. McGarrah, a Professor of Creative Writing, demonstrates his prodigious writing skills in this engaging, accessible and brutally honest work. His tentativeness, perhaps reflecting anxiety about the unknown, seems to blunt his introspection and critical self analysis.  

After the opening scene set in a VA Mental Hygiene Clinic where he is being assessed for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, while thoughts of Vietnam intrude, McGarrah begins his recollections with his life and upbringing in Princeton, Indiana. He was an accomplished prep athlete with what is described as a forceful, driving father, a mostly unavailable mother and a younger sister. While McGarrah provides a detailed, gut wrenching description of his relationship with his father when he was challenged about being caught in a lie, most of his treatment of his family relationships provide only a tease and leaves much to the imagination to determine what family life was like and how it might help explain McGarrah's rash decision to join the Marines after flunking out of college.

The description of the early years is appropriately seasoned by teen male obsession with sex and ham-handed encounters with dating, petting and romance. McGarrah recounts the loss of the object of his sexual fantasy to a competing suitor, but shirks this experience as unimportant even while he acknowledges the preeminence of this relationship in his life. Much remains unsaid.

McGarrah's Vietnam tour, described in detail that rivals Caputo's Rumor of War, is pretty standard fare by this time. The novelty of Vietnam's particular horrors in the annals of combat has been dulled by its retelling in several popular works over the past few decades. And yet, by the time we get to Vietnam with McGarrah we have a "connection" with him, and we care what happens, not least when he is wounded during the Tet offensive in 1968—his is far from a detached regurgitation of facts only.

Just as we care about McGarrah in Vietnam, we care about him upon his return. This, too, is a familiar scenario of drugs, jobs, broken relationships, soul searching, existential crises, wandering and confusion. McGarrah's writing style connects with the reader. The descriptions of fraternity parties, anonymous sex, youthful naiveté, idealism, geographic remedies, and blatant stupidity are engaging. An informed reader is reminded of psychologist John Wilson's description of Vietnam veterans as teens with a middle aged frame of reference that was launched forward at hyper speed impelled by experiences in Vietnam, although McGarrah seems oblivious to this as he tells his story.

Having achieved the credentials of legitimacy with a MFA degree, McGarrah joined the academy as a Professor of Creative Writing. He taught at the university that employs me. There he distinguished himself as a good, passionate teacher who challenged his students to do their best work. I am personally familiar with exemplary work he did with one student, Joe Sayyah, a Vietnam veteran who died from Agent Orange poisoning. McGarrah gave this student a creative outlet for his angst, an understanding ear, and gentle incentives to do his best work in creating a legacy of his own.

In 2005, McGarrah received a Faculty Research and Creative Works Award to return to Vietnam with his adult son, John. This was obviously a significant opportunity for McGarrah to write the epilogue for the book. He was able to meet with a noted Vietnamese poet, Vo Que. Touring and chatting with this nationally recognized poet was obviously a highlight for McGarrah, as was the peace ceremony where he and Vo Que wrote and recited original poems intended to heal spiritual scars. Overall, the description of the return’s pathos pales when compared to the works of Scurfield and other Vietnam veterans who have returned to Vietnam, many of whom adopted more deeply introspective and evaluative perspectives.

McGarrah's understated account of the return to Vietnam (“home”) embodies a substantial dissipation of energy and enthusiasm for the trip. For example, in a taxi ride, McGarrah and his son pass a temple that was the site of a horrific battle during McGarrah’s tour. His immediate reaction, “Goddamn it.”  When questioned by his son, he says, “I blew that temple up. I’m in the middle of my old base camp. The government must have left it as some kind of reminder, which is ironic since both governments encourage your generation to forget”, to which John responds, “It’s better economics to forget one war,..That makes it easier to start a new one.”  This exchange closes with McGarrah’s understated hope that his son’s awareness of history’s tendency to repeat will lead toward the wisdom to change.

There are contemporary photographs throughout the book.  For someone who shares McGarrah's experiences as a Marine, and as one who grew up in the same county and time frame as the author, I personally found the photos to be an affront to aging.  That's not the way we look today; we've aged, and that's part of the story.   That said, readers of our generation will find in these photos powerful anchors to Midwest America baby boomer upbringing.

This is an important contribution to the growing volumes of "Vietnam books". Its strongest points are the writing style, the engagement of readers, the description of war's aftermath and its tentative hopefulness. The reader is likely to feel unfulfilled and "left hanging" about McGarrah's family dynamics and his underdeveloped insights about "what it all means". Finally, readers will feel hopeful that McGarrah's journey and search for meaning will continue, resulting in a permanent peace, rather than 'a temporary sort of peace,' for him.

Caputo, P. A Rumor of War. Holt, Rinehart and Winston, New York, New York. 1977.

Scurfield, R.M. Healing Journeys: Study Abroad with Vietnam Veterans.  Vol. 2 of a       Vietnam Trilogy.  Algora Publishing, New York, NY.  2006.

* Veterans For Peace Newsletter, February 2008.

 Gary E. May is an Associate Professor of Social Work at the University of Southern Indiana, and a Vietnam veteran newly elected to the National Board of Veterans For Peace.

Reich, R.B. (2007). Supercapitalism: The Transformation of Business, Democracy, and Everyday Life. Alfred A. Knopf, New York, New York. ISBN 978-0-307-26561-6. 272 pages with notes and index.

Reviewed by Gary E. May, Associate Professor of Social Work, University of Southern Indiana--February 12, 2008 

“Free-market capitalism has triumphed. Yet democracy has weakened” (p.3). Reich uses this paradox as the thesis for his incisive analysis of the relationship between capitalism and democracy. The emerging preeminence of capitalism at the expense of democracy began in the mid 1970’s (an era that Reich refers to as “The Not Quite Golden Age”) and is evidenced by the explosion of consumer choices in new products, from computers and technology to antiperspirants. The Dow Jones Industrial Average, at an anemic 600 in 1975, had surged to 12,000 in late 2006. American capitalism has spread to Europe and Russia. Even China has become a hotbed of capitalism according to Reich.

That these accomplishments are testament to the triumph of capitalism is not in dispute. But, concurrent with these “triumphs” has been a disturbing erosion of workers’ earnings and a dramatic shift in incomes and wealth. Global warming, job insecurity, and other environmental hazards have accompanied these economic “gains”. These realities are indicative of the usurpation of democracy and democratic ideals by the forces of capitalism.

Reich views capitalism as more than a process of fair elections. “Democracy, in my view, is a system for accomplishing what can only be achieved by citizens joining together with other citizens—to determine the rules of the game whose outcomes express the common good” (p.4). Recently, the “common good” has been defined as business success. Fierce competition has resulted in a very soft regulatory environment. As businesses strive to bolster the bottom line—by attracting more and more customers while keeping production costs low—they have been successful in presenting “take it or leave” propositions to their ever weakening employee bargaining units and communities.

This high stakes zero sum ultimatum game is in stark contrast to relatively equally powered oligopolies of auto makers, organized labor and community leaders, each of whom recognized the important synergy among all that characterized the mid 70’s. In this environment, business leaders operated as statesmen who had vested interests in their workers and their community, including a broad sense of the common good.

Today’s business leaders generally lack an investment in community and positive regard for their workforce. It’s all about the bottom line—which is what business should be about according to Reich. The problem is that there has been no protector of democratic ideals. Appeals for businesses to be more “civic minded” are useless. The job of establishing and enforcing laws and regulations that cause businesses to behave in ways we deem responsible is the work of our elected leaders. Sadly, these leaders have lacked the fortitude to set limits on business for fear that the business will relocate and take their jobs with them.

Reich rejects many of the popular hypotheses—Fed Policy, supply side economics, tax cuts, executive greed, or political corruption—for the emergence of supercapitalism at the expense of democracy. “The real explanation involves the way technologies have empowered consumers and investors to get better and better deals—and how these deals, in turn, have sucked relative equality and stability, as well as other social values, out of the system” (p.51).

The sensitive reader will experience heightened anxiety beginning with Chapter 2 as Reich traces the road to supercapitalism. Along the way, he describes the influence of rapidly changing technologies, such as communication that enables a craftsman far away to receive product specifications electronically and fabricate the product more cheaply; communication that made more consumers more aware of more choices (think of the impact of foreign auto manufacturers on Detroit’s “Big Three” automakers); large size (think Wal-Mart) that permits hostile takeovers of rivals; and “globalization” and the creation of the world economy. Transportation technology, including shipping containers and global supply chains, weakened labor unions. Businesses requested, and received, concessions on regulations. Traffic on the road to supercapitalism increased exponentially in volume and speed in this environment.

By the third Chapter, our erstwhile sensitive reader may need to reach for the Xanax. Reich asserts that this state of supercapitalism exists with our willing complicity! Businesses have made the bottom line a theology because, we—consumers and investors—demand low prices, high returns and predictability. Complain as we might (and do) about irresponsible businesses; we still want the most choice, the lowest price and the highest quality in our consumer goods. Similarly, since more of us participate in the stock market than in the past, we want high, predictable returns on investments. All the while, we lambast “irresponsible” businesses that use lead to finish baby toys, or genetically alter crops and animals, or pollute, or exploit their workers…and demand that they act responsibly! Reich asserts that a profitable business is a responsible business—because it is doing what a business is supposed to do—makes money for investors. Even the oft vilified Wal-Mart has the power to squeeze suppliers and workers because it has been incredibly successful at aggregating the buying power of millions of consumers, producing bargain prices for them and good dividends for investors (frequently the customer is also an investor).

Reich says democracy has been overwhelmed by supercapitalism. He describes the corrosive influence of corporate money and influence peddling among bodies ostensibly elected to represent the “common good”. The paradigm and governing rules are essentially the same that apply to suppliers, workers and communities, to wit, “If you don’t want to play, we’ll just take our money and go elsewhere”. This usurpation of democracy is causing people to lose confidence in democracy. It is seen as powerless to represent common interests if these common interests are contrary to capitalist interests.

A consequence of this growing discontent with democracy is the increasing clamor for “corporate social responsibility”. Reich contends that such demands are of little effect and have no value, even if they result in some concessions from businesses.  “Corporate social responsibility” is the responsibility of the citizens and their elected representatives.

What otherwise might be a depressing, hopeless description of unalterable supercapitalism ends on a weakly hopeful note in Reich’s final chapter, “A Citizen’s Guide to Supercapitalism” (p.209). Asserting that it is the role of democracy to address the social consequences of capitalism, Reich recommends a lively debate, as there is no shortage of policy ideas for coping with the social downsides of supercapitalism. We have not had such a lively debate. Furthermore, he asserts that, "Genuine reform will occur only if and when most citizens demand it” (p.212). Finally, the author emphasizes that corporations are not people and that only people can participate in democratic decision making. This de-anthropomorphic-ization of business would mean eliminating the corporate income tax (tax investors on their dividends instead), not holding corporations liable for the misdeeds of their executives or employees (hold the individuals personally responsible, thereby preserving the business for the non offending employees—think Enron), not imbuing companies with capacity for intent (off shore businesses are no less patriotic than onshore ones; companies can’t act with criminal intent).

This provocative work is essential reading for activists. It reinforces much of the accepted wisdom of activists—that businesses have too much influence, that political leaders don’t represent the “common good”, that money corrupts the decision making machinery, AND that nobody wants to stop any of it! But it also provides some useful insights and potentially useful levers for persuading people that there is utility in resisting the injustices that are visited upon ordinary people. Facing the reality that we are all part of the problem may nudge some fence sitters to become part of the solution.

The anarchist in me could use this book as fuel for a jihad (commonly framed as “war”) against the status quo. The pragmatist in me recognizes that I would be one of the many targets of such a jihad. A better approach, me thinks, is to opt for the more benign—and accurate—definition of jihad as a struggle. Allah knows we’ve got much to struggle with!

Scurfield, R.M. (2006). Healing Journeys: Study Abroad with Vietnam Veterans, Vol. 2 of a Vietnam Trilogy. Algora Publishing, New York, NY. ISBN: 0-87586-404-X. 221 pages with index and bibliographical references.

Reviewed by Gary E. May, Associate Professor of Social Work, University of Southern Indiana

As with his first installment in the promised trilogy, A Vietnam Trilogy Veterans and Post Traumatic Stress: 1968, 1989, 2000 (2004), Scurfield’s extensive work with Vietnam veterans in his 25+ year career with the Department of Veterans Affairs informs and enriches this work. He builds on his previous work to recount his ongoing personal and professional metamorphoses that culminate in the study abroad program with faculty colleagues and students from his university.

The current adventure commingles 16 undergraduate history students, a history professor, 3 Vietnam combat veterans and two mental health professionals (including Scurfield) in a trip to Vietnam for a study abroad experience. This second volume focuses on the decade of 1990 – 2000, using the study abroad model as a vehicle to address lessons learned—and lessons ignored (the focus of the third volume)--from Vietnam as the U.S. was preparing for and responding to the affects of the first Gulf War.

The text logically and usefully organizes itself in three sections. The first four chapters address broad topical areas including comparisons between Vietnam and the Gulf Wars, the experiences of medially evacuated combatants, “managing” the “truth” about the impact of war, and racism. These chapters provide very useful perspectives and seem to set the stage for Scurfield’s final trilogy installment due out later this year.

The second section (chapters 5 and 6) focus on the study abroad experience with the history students. Relying heavily on his journal entries, Scurfield recounts and analyzes the dynamics of the segments of the travel group (students, faculty, therapists, veterans) and the group as a unit. The trip, while providing unique opportunities for all travelers to interact, surfaced some generational conflicts and stressors as well as scholarly interest differences.

The final two chapters include important reflections and assessment of the impact of this trip and compares it to Scurfield’s previous trip that was the focus of volume one of this trilogy. The appendix contains an outline of important elements in planning a trip and unflinchingly identifies “What We Missed” (p. 216).

Scurfield provides substantial contextual information about U.S. experiences during and shortly after involvement in Vietnam. Among the issues that are addressed are: selective amnesia and denial, racism, physically wounded veterans, and institutional responses to the needs of Vietnam veterans. The treatment of these issues includes asides and soliloquy from Scurfield, reminiscent of the first volume. As with the first volume, some of these comments seem pedestrian and self evident.

The discussion explicates what Scurfield asserts is the evidence for and the consequences of a self serving depiction of military combat in Vietnam. His more cogent points concern the deliberate manipulation of information and reframing of issues by governments. This element of his discussion is reminiscent of George Lakoff’s (2002) conceptualization of the framing of issues.

In this regard, Scurfield seems to take a rather pejorative and judgmental view of U.S. Vietnam War veterans who traveled to the Soviet Union in 1989 on a citizen diplomacy mission. Scurfield’s assessment of the trip criticized the U.S. veterans for 1) abandoning their fellow vets; and 2) denying/avoiding addressing their own Vietnam experiences. To his credit, he does soften and ultimately abandon this view, coincidentally, when he had the opportunity to host Russian veterans of their war with Afghanistan at his Veterans Administration PTSD treatment program.

Much like the first volume, this work provides an “on the ground” perspective on the issues—the return trip of U.S. veterans in volume one and the study abroad experience in this volume. The richness is heightened by the unexpected occurrences and the team’s use of them as teachable moments.

The work does not provide a template for all study abroad programs, but it does a good job of providing useful insights as to the conduct of such programs and the need for flexibility and to capitalize on unexpected opportunities for teachable moments.

A limitation of this work is Scurfield’s occasional near obsession with the war experience (perhaps a reason for feedback from some students that Scurfield was “too serious”) and troubling sporadic lapses into talking about the traveling veterans as objects. Scurfield seems to be somewhat preoccupied with his role as therapist and allows this to color his perspective on his observations and experiences—perhaps an artifact of his quarter century of work in a decidedly medical model oriented Veterans Administration where he treated clients’ psychosocial problems.

Overall, this is a very good resource for persons who are interested in knowing more about the Vietnam War from a very personal level. It also has insights for clinicians and educators that can be useful in understanding the personal impacts of combat as well as practical considerations for planning study abroad experiences. For students, it provides opportunities to experience vicariously the effects of combat through direct contact and dialogue with combatants, making the experience potentially powerfully immediate, although generational differences confounds this outcome. It’s a good read and a good addition to the knowledge base about combat, consequence and legacy.

References

Scurfield, R.M. (2004). A Vietnam Trilogy Veterans and Post Traumatic Stress: 1968, 1989, 2000. Algora Publishing, New York, NY.

Lakoff, G. (2002). Moral Politics: How Liberals and Conservatives Think 2 ed. The University of Chicago Press, Chicago, IL

Scurfield, R.M. (2004). A Vietnam Trilogy Veterans and Post Traumatic Stress: 1968, 1989, 2000. Algora Publishing, New York, NY. ISBN: 0-87586-322-1. 334 pages with bibliography and index.

Reviewed by Gary E. May, Associate Professor of Social Work, University of Southern Indiana

Scurfield’s extensive work with Vietnam veterans in his 25+ year career with the Department of Veterans Affairs informs and enriches this work. He describes his own metamorphosis from a rather naïve, idealistic young Social Worker through the treacherous territory of the conflict in Vietnam where he served as a Social Work officer on a psychiatric team and his later career in the Veterans Administration.

Throughout the work, which includes very engaging treatments of his return to Vietnam with his clients, Scurfield offers soliloquies where he exposes his cognitive and emotional processes. While sometimes trite-sounding, these episodes of self talk reveal the powerful emotional impact of assisting trauma survivors on helpers. Additionally, they provide insights into the changing landscape of his internal frames of reference.

The descriptions of the travels back to Vietnam rely heavily on Scurfield’s extemporaneous notes and diary entries. They recount, many times in great detail, the expectations of veterans and Scurfield as they prepare to visit old haunts from the war years. On several occasions, the expectations are dashed against the rocks of contemporary realities. Things are not as they are remembered.

This experience, while initially disheartening, is oft interpreted by Scurfield as a metaphor for life. Things change, in countries; with people; and with lives—both of the clients and of Scurfield. His personal missives give important support to the assertion that with post traumatic stress disorder, the magnitude and novelty of the stressor, not the personal mettle of the trauma victim, is the major predictor of adjustment problems.

The work also addresses the broader cultural and political environment that affects the quality of adjustment for Vietnam veterans. Scurfield recounts with a clear headed objectivity that seems to belie the angst that was created by veterans’ groups objections to the return to Vietnam by veterans. To his credit, Scurfield also unflinchingly describes intragroup squabbles and contentiousness during the trips and the challenges he faced in processing/refereeing/interpreting these dust ups.

A Vietnam Trilogy provides glimpses at the effect of assisting others who have been affected by trauma. Although not as thorough as the seminal work by Sarah Haley (1974), Scurfield’s excursion into his psyche before during and after his trips to Vietnam provides useful information and insight that persons working with trauma survivors will find useful. This is particularly true of those who are assisting other survivors of a trauma that the helper shares with them.

Vietnam veterans will be attracted to the still rare experience of veterans returning to Vietnam, as I was. (I was drawn to index entries that pointed to experiences I had in Vietnam and since. So I reordered Scurfield’s sequence and read the book consistent with my lived experience.) Although it’s unlikely that combat veterans will learn anything strikingly new, the opportunity to view the landscape, interact with the Vietnamese people, and grapple with emotions and opinions about Vietnam through the eyes of the returnees provides valuable vicarious contact with the land, people and policies that had dramatic effects on their lives.

Finally, the general public (read non veteran and non therapist) will find the treatment of the personal challenges and changes forged in war intriguing. (A page of terms and definitions and bibliography of professional references and popular periodicals adds to the clarity and invites further exploration.) The personal accounts debunk the incorrect, generalized and sometimes binary myths of veterans as either helpless victims or mindless prosecutors of an ill conceived and ill fated military adventure. The nuanced impact of U.S. involvement in Vietnam on the lives of the war’s participants is not easily reduced to monolithic, reductionist representations. Scurfield adroitly exposes and interprets these nuances. The reader will identify with the veterans’ experiences and struggle with the challenges of what they would do or how they would react.

A Vietnam Trilogy will be followed later in 2005 by two other books in this trilogy (working titles): The Gulf War and Return to Vietnam: Evacuees, Racism, Collusion & Study Abroad to Vietnam; and From Vietnam to 9/11 and Iraq: Veterans and Their Families, Post Traumatic Stress and Healing. Together these three works will provide a personalized background of where we’ve been, where we went, how we got there and possible future implications for our evolving understanding of the Vietnam war and its impacts on participants, policy makers and the public.

We have a long way to go to develop this understanding, but A Vietnam Trilogy Veterans and Post Traumatic Stress: 1968, 1989, 2000 is a very good place to start.

Reference

Haley, S.A. (1974). When the Veteran Reports Atrocities: Specific treatment considerations of the Vietnam veteran. Arch Gen Psychiatry. 1974 Feb;30(2):191-6.