My Father's Vietnam
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- Year:
- 2015
- 79 min
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[helicopters whirring]
My name is Soren
Peter Sorensen ll,
and this is my namesake
Soren Peter Sorensen I.
He was born over a century
before me in Denmark in 1871,
and he's pictured here at 17
in his Danish military uniform.
Here's his son, my great
grandfather Ralph Sorensen,
holding me at two months old as my
father and grandfather look on.
When I look at this photograph
I wonder if any of these men
ever thought my life would
even remotely resemble theirs.
There's a stranger
lying in my bed
A slate-eyed asleep
assassin in my head
I keep on dying until
I finally fall dead
Every day has a way through
There's an ether hanging
at my door
A cross-eyed crucifier
keeping score
I keep on smiling until
I can't smile no more
Every day fades to blue
We go Waltzing past
the grave
We go Waltzing
past the grave
And we go Waltzing
past the grave
For one more day
[Soren] The first time my father took me to
Washington DC, I was around 1 O years old,
too young to really get it.
DC was one of a number of uniquely
American destinations we used to visit,
places like Annapolis
and Gettysburg,
where all I ever really learned from the monu-
ments, memorials, re-enactments and powwows
was that I loved the junk food that always
seemed to accompanied each day's outing.
When we visited
the Vietnam memorial,
I was hardly old enough to comprehend the
Smithsonian or the air and space museum,
let alone Maya Lin's
granite masterpiece
honoring the more than 58,000 Americans
who were killed during the Vietnam War.
The experience always stayed with me
because my dad made pencil rubbings
of two of the names that day: Loring M.
Bailey Jr. and Glenn D. Rickert.
I remember standing as far away as
I could from my teary-eyed father
as he made the rubbings and took
pictures of each of the names.
Who were these people, I wondered
to myself, these dead soldiers?
He had never
mentioned them before.
I can probably count on one
hand the number of times
I've seen my father's eyes well up with
tears, and I'm not sure he's ever cried.
But it wasn't a good
feeling as a child
seeing that vulnerable, human side
of a guy I imagined was invincible.
This little effort to distance myself
physically from my father in DC
continued emotionally
throughout my adolescence,
manifesting itself as a fear of
upsetting or disappointing him,
as I intentionally grew
into what I considered to be
a much different person
than he once was.
This distance between us,
real or imagined on my part,
caused me to wait until I was over 30
to ask him how he ended up in Vietnam.
[Peter]
"Not by choice, by chance."
Or is it "By chance, by choice"?
There was a recruiting
slogan that had to do with...
Yeah, "By choice, but not by
chance," or something like that.
You pick your branch and all that
good stuff and you get a career path,
go to college and become
a PhD machine gunner.
I backed into it. I knew that this was
probably the biggest news story of my life.
I knew that I wanted to be a journalist,
or thought I wanted to be a journalist.
I was a political science major.
There have been family males
involved in the Civil War,
the Spanish American War, World War I
and II, Korea, and this was just my war.
There's a tradition of, if you're a male
and there's a war on, that's your job.
That's what you do.
It's just bad luck, or good luck
if you're into that sort of thing.
So I was balancing not wanting
to miss this news story,
a dyed-in-the-wool
Ernest Hemingway fan.
On the other side of the coin, I knew that
this was a bogus war, it was a civil war,
the politicians were steering us astray, and I
sure as hell didn't want to die over there.
But you balance one against the other, and
then depending upon where you want to go
with the discussions, you can play this
out right until the day I got over there.
It's avoidance tempered with,
this is something I should
be doing, or want to be doing.
[Soren] In 1968 a lot of
high school and college seniors
were in the same
situation as my father.
And the perception of Vietnam as a working
class war fought only by America's poorest
and least-educated
citizens was changing.
In March, President Lyndon Johnson announced
that he would not seek reelection.
In April, Martin Luther King
was assassinated.
In June,
it was Robert F. Kennedy.
In November, Richard Nixon
was elected president.
[Peter] Nixon had a plan.
I remember distinctly sitting in Fort Dix
cleaning an M14 and listening to speeches,
and Nixon had a plan
to get us out of Vietnam.
I was thinking to myself, if he can do that
in two months, I'm going to vote for him.
[Soren] Another Connecticut resident
who probably voted for Nixon in '68
is Loring Bailey, then an employee
of Groton-based Electric Boat,
the largest manufacturer of submarines
for the United States Navy.
Bailey's only son Loring Jr., or "Ring"
to his close friends and family,
enlisted in the United States Army
around the same time as my father,
and for similar reasons.
When the kids came out of, or
graduated from school, from college,
when they ended home
here in Connecticut...
Well, all over the country,
there lying in the pile of mail
was the card for
registration for the draft.
Every senior faced that.
A lot of people said, "My God, if I'm
going to be drafted I'll enlist."
"I'll go before they call me."
[Soren] It surprised me to hear that
so many young people in the late '60s,
including my father and Ring
Bailey, were still enlisting.
Members of my generation, the sons
and daughters of these baby boomers,
seemed to treat the topic of Vietnam
either with overt criticism,
including comparisons to Iraq and
Afghanistan, or eye rolls and apathy.
I've honestly never spoken to very many people
my age or any other come to think of it,
willing to defend the American
government's motivations
for expanding our military's
involvement in Vietnam.
But the reasons people enlisted were
not as simple as I once imagined.
Because the United States
military is now all-volunteer,
I always figured anyone who made
a conscious decision to enlist,
rather than waiting for the draft
or avoiding the war altogether,
must have been enthusiastically anti-communist,
that or too willing to please their fathers,
members of Tom Brokaw's
"greatest generation."
what is expected.
So I think he was reared in the
tradition of being responsible,
"doing the right thing,"
however you define that,
and not disappointing
your family.
And he had not just a father, but a
grandfather whom he loved, and aunts,
and a family tradition that would
be a big deal to just walk out on.
The National Guard wasn't available unless
you knew somebody, or your name was Bush
or you had some way of getting
in to the National Guard.
The National Guard was closed out,
'cause they were
really popular, obviously.
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