Winter 2003 issue

Excerpt from the introduction to Voices from Vietnam

by Charlene Edwards

Vietnam. The first time I heard the word Vietnam I was eleven. It was 1963, and I was studying the countries of Asia in my junior high social studies class. Vietnam. The second time I heard the word, I was thirteen. The Beatles invaded America in 1964 and the United States invaded Vietnam in 1965. Every day after school, my family compulsively watched as the Vietnam War invaded our homes via mass media. Scenes of the mesmerizing violence played out in our living rooms with the sounds of bullets cracking and bombs exploding, and reports of body bag counts drifting through the air. Our lives were consumed with uncertainty in the constant shadow of this war half a world away. A world where tomorrow was not guaranteed. From that time forward, my adolescence was put on hold as I waited to see if my brother, cousins or dear friends would be the next to receive a draft notice from Uncle Sam. A draft notice that would send them to this place where, in the great greenness of its countryside, thousands were to die – to this place of war that irrevocably changed my life, and the lives of a generation of Americans.

For the next few years, our countries remained embroiled in conflict. In 1968, the Communists attacked South Vietnamese cities, towns and military bases during the Tet holiday celebration, and in America, Martin Luther King Jr. and Senator Robert Kennedy were assassinated. In 1969, the year I graduated from high school, America's hippies descended upon a small farm in Woodstock; massive antiwar demonstrations were held in Washington; newspapers were filled with photos of North Vietnam's leader Ho Chi Minh, who died on September 3; and Americans landed on the moon.

I remember clearly where I was when it was announced that representatives of North and South Vietnam, the United States and the National Liberation Front had signed the Paris Peace Accords, ending direct U.S. military involvement in Vietnam. It was a snowy night, in January of 1973. I was in the restaurant of a ski lodge in southern Vermont. I never heard the entire announcement, because everyone in the restaurant was immediately on their feet screaming and cheering. Tears streamed down our faces as we hugged both our loved ones and strangers alike. Shortly afterward, in early 1973, American ground troops left the fighting behind and our POWs came home. Just two years later, on April 30, 1975, images from this place called Vietnam deluged our television screens again with Marine CH-46 helicopters as they evacuated the last Americans in Saigon from the roof of the embassy just hours before South Vietnam surrendered to the North. The images of panicked American and South Vietnamese military and support personnel scurrying beneath whirling chopper blades and being hurriedly lifted off to safety burned into our nation's collective psyche, and symbolized for us the end of America's longest war.

The Americans called it the Vietnam War; the Vietnamese refer to it as the American War. By whatever name, it was a great tragedy. Three million Americans served in Vietnam; over fifty-eight thousand of these men and women did not return alive from its jungles, rice fields and cities. Nearly four million Vietnamese soldiers and civilians on both sides were killed or wounded. By war's end, more than 2,200 U.S. soldiers were missing in action, as were 300,000 of Vietnam's own sons and daughters. The Communists interned a few hundred thousand vanquished soldiers and South Vietnamese officials to reportedly brutal "re-education" camps. More than a million "boat people" fled their ancestral homes in leaky vessels to escape the continuing nightmare and nearly 400,000 died in the attempt. There was virtually no one in Vietnam whose life went untouched.

Do we know the exact moment day fades into night or when the direction of a person's life is altered forever? I believe all those involved in the Vietnam War know when that exact moment happened to them. For me, a world traveler, landing in Vietnam on my first journey there in 1992 was that exact moment. No other country affected me the way Vietnam did, maybe because this country was a part of my history, part of my own memories and part of my adolescence. I was drawn like a magnet to this stirringly beautiful place that had haunted my soul for years.

I spent my days photographing small explosions of rich color and faces that had a story to tell, and I spent my nights listening to those stories – stories of the old blending with the new from those Vietnamese whose eyes had lost all their innocence so many years ago. It was impossible for me to come away from Vietnam untouched. Upon returning home, I started compiling the stories of the amazing people I had met. Stories they shared with me as moments of their own past rushed back through their memories. Moments of history, of hope and despair that defined their lives. Moments that bring tears to the eyes, touch the heart and offer inspiration from those who have healed to those who still suffer.

My experiences in Vietnam made me curious to know more about the American soldiers and nurses and the Vietnamese in America. Not just the stories of the South Vietnamese, but also those of the North Vietnamese. I had so many questions. What happened to the Amerasian children created from this war; to those who chose to go to Canada to evade military service; and how had life changed for the family members of all those involved? As I did my research, I found that each story was unique, yet each was so similar. What began as a four-week journey during a six-month backpacking trip throughout Asia soon became a roller coaster out of control. One story led to just one more story and to two more journeys back to Vietnam, one in April and May of 1997 and again in April 2000. It was important for me to bring together all the threads of the war from which I eventually chose 70 of the most compelling stories I heard – the ones that have left the deepest tracks across my heart.

The irrationality and horrors of war, or for that matter, any of life's great traumas, are extraordinary events that transform everyday life in unimaginable ways. By reading the stories, meditating on the photographs and referring to the resource guide, I hope that those of you who are still troubled begin to find solace and that any unhealed emotional wounds may begin to melt away when you discover that you are not alone in your pain. It is also my hope that out of the depths of mankind's darkness will come a light, if only a flicker at first, that allows you to begin to reclaim your life from the constant shadow of Vietnam. By getting in touch with the feelings of today brought on by the actions of yesterday, my wish is that your broken spirit will embrace the paths of empowerment and healing and that peace will begin to echo inside the troubled corners of your heart.

About the author: Charlene Edwards

As a photographer, writer and explorer Charlene Edwards has journeyed to seven continents, had her work exhibited in many galleries and has been published in such periodicals as the New York Times, Daily News, Boston Globe, Manhattan Arts, and the Chicago Tribune. She was the set photographer and photo and writing researcher for “The Class Of The 20th Century,” a landmark 12-hour series for the Arts and Entertainment Network that won an ACE Award for its documentary excellence. Ms. Edwar

ds has dedicated the past 10 years to creating the book Voices From Vietnam.

Buy the book

Voices From Vietnam is available both in hardcover $40 (ISBN: 0971402051) and softcover $25 (ISBN: 0971402035) through bookstores or online at www.voicesfromvietnam.com or www.vrna.org. For an autographed copy, write to: JOURNEYS, P.O. Box 610260, Bayside, NY 11361.

For further information e-mail vnvoices@aol.com.

Return to this issue's index

• Learn more about VRNA, or
• Ready to join VRNA? Membership is only $30 and includes more than two dozen valuable benefits.