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May. 29th, 2005 03:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fabrisseJohn F. Kennedy made a momentous decision on his 44th birthday (May 29, 1961). This is the day that several memoirs confirm that he made the final decision to send 300 advisors to South Viet Nam, officially beginning the undeclared Vietnam War.
There were reasons. NSC 68 had established "The Domino Theory" to contain Communism as official U.S. Policy. Now, two presidents later, there was a Communist threat from Ho Chi Minh. Eisenhower had warned against this type of involvement and had warned against involvement in Viet Nam specifically.
Moreover, Ho Chi Minh knew US tactics inside out. We'd trained him in his fight against the French in the early 1950s Indochina War.
Kennedy's decision was implemented immediately. Within two weeks of that decision a group of men were being taught Vietnamese at the Army Language School in Monterey; four weeks afterwards, they were on their way to train South Vietnamese troops (and in some cases lead them in battle).
My father was one of these advisors. He got the call with new orders as we were coming into the house on June 1. Ten days later we were at Monterey. My mother had packed a house and looked after a newborn at the same time. As a former stewardess, she was thrilled to be riding in her first jet for the trip between Seattle and San Francisco.
Mid-May of the following year, my father was rotated home in order to become an area specialist on South and Southeast Asia. His biggest memory of getting off the planes was seeing his eleven month old daughter raising walking up the tarmac to the plane, raising her arms to the men in uniform and asking for her Daddy.
He was there for my first birthday, but Viet Nam meant that he never saw my first step or heard my first words. Ironically, when my sister was ten months old, we were evacuated from Viet Nam. While he had the first ten months with Sis, he also missed her first words and first steps. There's very little about his military career that makes him bitter, but missing these moments with both daughters is one of them.
I have a lot to honor both my parents for. Mom went through ten months of my first year alone. Her parents were near by, but their help was minimal. Other than clothes, I've been told. For my first year nearly every piece of clothing I owned was sewn by Grandma.
Mom read the newspaper out loud so I wouldn't be bored. She nursed in an era when it was frowned upon. (My father's stepmother actually asked her, "How can you do something so unnatural?") I can't imagine how trapped she must have felt by my constant presence.
Today, I'm 44.
There were reasons. NSC 68 had established "The Domino Theory" to contain Communism as official U.S. Policy. Now, two presidents later, there was a Communist threat from Ho Chi Minh. Eisenhower had warned against this type of involvement and had warned against involvement in Viet Nam specifically.
Moreover, Ho Chi Minh knew US tactics inside out. We'd trained him in his fight against the French in the early 1950s Indochina War.
Kennedy's decision was implemented immediately. Within two weeks of that decision a group of men were being taught Vietnamese at the Army Language School in Monterey; four weeks afterwards, they were on their way to train South Vietnamese troops (and in some cases lead them in battle).
My father was one of these advisors. He got the call with new orders as we were coming into the house on June 1. Ten days later we were at Monterey. My mother had packed a house and looked after a newborn at the same time. As a former stewardess, she was thrilled to be riding in her first jet for the trip between Seattle and San Francisco.
Mid-May of the following year, my father was rotated home in order to become an area specialist on South and Southeast Asia. His biggest memory of getting off the planes was seeing his eleven month old daughter raising walking up the tarmac to the plane, raising her arms to the men in uniform and asking for her Daddy.
He was there for my first birthday, but Viet Nam meant that he never saw my first step or heard my first words. Ironically, when my sister was ten months old, we were evacuated from Viet Nam. While he had the first ten months with Sis, he also missed her first words and first steps. There's very little about his military career that makes him bitter, but missing these moments with both daughters is one of them.
I have a lot to honor both my parents for. Mom went through ten months of my first year alone. Her parents were near by, but their help was minimal. Other than clothes, I've been told. For my first year nearly every piece of clothing I owned was sewn by Grandma.
Mom read the newspaper out loud so I wouldn't be bored. She nursed in an era when it was frowned upon. (My father's stepmother actually asked her, "How can you do something so unnatural?") I can't imagine how trapped she must have felt by my constant presence.
Today, I'm 44.
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no subject
Date: 2005-05-31 03:27 am (UTC)I didn't mean to make anyone cry.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-31 03:38 am (UTC)Perfect for those parts of your life you mourn, but are ready to move past. You cried your tears, maybe two, maybe a bucketful, but fuckit. It's past and the future beckons.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-31 05:18 am (UTC)A beckoning future sounds pretty good.