RACING BACK TO VIETNAM

Nonfiction

Lucky doc

RACING BACK TO VIETNAM 

By John Pendergrass

256 pp. Hatherleigh Press

Reviewed By William C. Crawford

This is a readable memoir brought forth on the 50th anniversary of the US withdrawal. There has been a plethora of recent writing in many genres focusing on the ever-controversial conflict. Due to the recent release of the acclaimed Ken Burns documentary, the nation’s attention has been painfully refocused to ponder the conundrums of this ill-fated example of American exceptionalism.

The author’s wartime experience is unique in that he served as both a flight surgeon and a volunteer rear seat rider for 54 combat missions with an F-4 fighter squadron based in Da Nang. He had a cushy rear-echelon job that he left intermittently to bomb the Ho Chi Minh Trail in nearby Laos and North Vietnam.

Pendergrass offers a straightforward account of both his medical life and his air-combat interludes, as well as the tightly knit camaraderie of a wartime fighter squadron. The author provides many vivid descriptions about the aircraft and their operating procedures. He also offers observations about the sprawling American military installation in Da Nang. At the peak of the war, the air base became the busiest airport in the world.

The author reported for duty in Vietnam when he was recently married with an infant son. He departed the war zone on short notice only to safely return to his waiting family, apparently unscathed and almost completely free of emotional baggage and trauma. Pendergrass faced rockets in Da Nang and antiaircraft fire over the Ho Chi Minh Trail. However, his tour of duty was one of stark contrasts as both a relatively safe rear-echelon doctor and a combat airman. The air war was not a matter of close human contact. He dropped bombs on distant enemy supply trucks from a streaking jet fighter. Then he also intermittently attended boisterous squadron parties for comrades whose tours of duty were ending. Finally, he returned to Mississippi to practice ophthalmology. No PTSD here, just a seamless return to civilian professional life. This not the typical Vietnam combat memoir, because the personal conflict and emotional drama are missing.

Nearly 50 years later, the good doctor returns to the Nam to compete in his later life specialty, the triathlon. He provides insightful descriptions of present day Da Nang, which both chafes and prospers under the now slightly relaxed Communist rule. After the competition, he tours the country, interacting with locals and crossing paths with visiting American veterans who are flocking back to see their now-transformed war zone.

Pendergrass avoids making strident comments about the efficacy of the US war effort. However, he duly notes the thousands of Vietnamese whose health was comprised by the flagrant American misuse of the defoliant Agent Orange. The victims continue to be disproportionately children born with serious birth defects from still lingering contamination. President Obama visited Vietnam while the author was touring. He passed on making any apology for US atrocities involving Agent Orange, or for the estimated two million innocent civilians killed by American firepower run amok. The US callously refuses to provide any formal aid for the treatment of Agent Orange victims.

The Ken Burns series calls into question both the US strategy and tactics employed in Vietnam. Pendergrass also notes the weak, vacillating approach associated with the air war against North Vietnam. The on-again, off-again bombing was a wasted farce at best. The author chides President Johnson and Defense Secretary McNamara for personally selecting dubious bombing targets against the advice of their theater commanders.

This book offers up a decidedly different kind of Vietnam memoir. It is the paradoxical story of a physician who intermittently flew combat missions while still working his day job in a medical clinic. Pendergrass’ story reveals him to be among the most fortunate American veterans. He admittedly benefited because the Air Force followed a frivolous, unofficial policy of allowing physicians to fly as volunteers in combat. He then enjoyed a mostly adventurous tour in-country while seemingly avoiding most of the personal pain and horror from war that so many of us still carry. The reader is left to ponder how he was ever so lucky.

William C. Crawford was a grunt and later a combat photojournalist in Vietnam. His memoir, Just Like Sunday on the Farm, is available from Amazon.com.