In 1961, the U.S. government established the first formalized provisions for intercountry adoption just as it was expanding America's involvement with Vietnam. Adoption became an increasingly important portal of entry into American society for Vietnamese and Amerasian children, raising questions about the United States' obligations to refugees and the nature of the family during an era of heightened anxiety about U.S. global interventions. Whether adopting or favoring the migration of multiracial individuals, Americans believed their norms and material comforts would salve the wounds of a divisive war. However, Vietnamese migrants challenged these efforts of reconciliation. As Allison Varzally details in this book, a desire to redeem defeat in Vietnam, faith in the nuclear family, and commitment to capitalism guided American efforts on behalf of Vietnamese youths. By tracing the stories of Vietnamese migrants, however, Varzally reveals that while many had accepted separations as a painful strategy for survival in the midst of war, most sought, and some eventually found, reunion with their kin. This book makes clear the role of adult adoptees in Vietnamese and American debates about the forms, privileges, and duties of families, and places Vietnamese children at the center of American and Vietnamese efforts to assign responsibility and find peace in the aftermath of conflict.

More Than A Few Good Men tells the compelling soldiers story of Robert J. Driver's life from childhood to his retirement from the United States Marine Corps. Driver witnessed and was part of many extreme, and sometimes chilling, events. These actions come to life through Driver's own letters home to his wife, encompassing the challenge of boot camp, Officer's Candidate School, and his tours of duty in the Vietnam War. Driver collected declassified documents and information from many of the Marines he served with in Vietnam in order to provide the reader with this exceptionally detailed account. Driver's letters home offer a clear reckoning of the traumatic events of combat and the bravery of his young Marines. The book also features biographies of the many contributors. Driver's admiration for the men he fought with is evident-they were More Than A Few Good Men.

In 2012, President Obama announced that the United States would spend the next thirteen years - through November 11, 2025 - commemorating the 50th Anniversary of the Vietnam War, and the American soldiers, "more than 58,000 patriots," who died in Vietnam. The fact that at least 2.1 million Vietnamese - soldiers, parents, grandparents, children - also died in that war will be largely unknown and entirely uncommemorated. And U.S. history barely stops to record the millions of Vietnamese who lived on after being displaced, tortured, maimed, raped, or born with birth defects, the result of devastating chemicals wreaked on the land by the U.S. military. The reason for this appalling disconnect of consciousness lies in an unremitting public relations campaign waged by top American politicians, military leaders, business people, and scholars who have spent the last sixty years justifying the U.S. presence in Vietnam. It is a campaign of patriotic conceit superbly chronicled by John Marciano in The American War in Vietnam: Crime or Commemoration?A devastating follow-up to Marciano's 1979 classic Teaching the Vietnam War (written with William L. Griffen), Marciano's book seeks not to commemorate the Vietnam War, but to stop the ongoing U.S. war on actual history. Marciano reveals the grandiose flag-waving that stems from the "Noble Cause principle," the notion that America is "chosen by God" to bring democracy to the world. Marciano writes of the Noble Cause being invoked unsparingly by presidents - from Jimmy Carter, in his observation that, regarding Vietnam, "the destruction was mutual," to Barack Obama, who continues the flow of romantic media propaganda: "The United States of America ...will remain the greatest force for freedom the world has ever known."The result is critical writing and teaching at its best. This book will find a home in classrooms where teachers seek to do more than repeat the trite glorifications of U.S. empire. It will provide students everywhere with insights that can prepare them to change the world.

This is a fascinating and hard-hitting account kept in the journal of a young Marine Corps infantryman during his tour of duty in the Vietnam War. The epilogue follows the author back to Vietnam in the 1990's.

A secret mission sends the author to Vietnam's Mekong Delta, the bread basket of old Indo - China. He uncovers a sophisticated enemy supply network unknown to our military hierarchy.

Using intelligence data covertly gathered in Cambodia and analyzed at the Center for Naval Analyses in Arlington, Virginia they discover and destroy Vietcong forces and interdict VC supply lines with a mixture of intrigue and romance.

A U. S. Naval story never told, complete with declassified maps from the Office of Naval Intelligence, and illuminating pictures of Saigon and archaic areas of the Delta taken by the author forty - six years ago, a depiction of "old Saigon" and real relationships between North and South Vietnam are related.

Headquartered in Saigon, the true interaction between our Navy and Army ( MACV ) brass couched in the background of wartime Saigon, often referred to as the "Paris of the Orient," and Washington, D. C. is insightfully told.

Possibly there is nothing more conducive to thoughts of the Eternal, than having one's face slammed into red, wet muck, with explosions so close your body arcs and bounces off the ground, hot shards burn in your flesh, and concussions are bright flashes of dirty fire beating a tattoo on the light receptors in the backs of your eyes. Your head aches; throbbing from visual shock waves.

Time has come to an end; there is no right, no wrong, only whatever follows a life that is now over. The dark reaper is here. What's it going to be like on the other side? Is there an "other side"?

The old timers use the maxim, "There are no atheists in a fox-hole." Possibly so; I can only give my own experience, and I never had the opportunity to be in one. Combat aviators crash and sometimes burn instead. But close calls almost always give rise to interminable questions; especially when the survived experience is seared into the human psyche.

For some, satisfactory answers never seem to come. For myself, may I pro-offer both scorching experience, and incredible life-lessons learned? Then, should you ever fall into similar adventure; you man go into it better prepared than I was.
JWV