A time to heal
Recently, Marine Vietnam Veteran Bill Degenhardt of Hillsboro, Wisconsin, and his brother John of Viola, also a Marine Vietnam Veteran, flew to Washington D.C. visiting the Vietnam War Memorial. The brothers who fought in Vietnam at the same time, rode the Honor Flight together as well, from LaCrosse.
While normally I would have written an article from my interview with Bill, I felt that his words verbatim told a story that I could in no way, tell in an article.
It is my honor to share Bill’s story. Welcome home to you Bill, John, and all other Vietnam Veterans.
Bill’s story
How I found out about the Honor Flight was my youngest daughter. She goes, ‘Dad, you need to go on that.’ She went on the computer one day and got all the information. We filled everything out. After 5 years, we finally got to go on the Honor Flight. They did the World War II, The Korean War, Vietnam. Now they are going to go to Persia and the Iraqi ones. There was 96 of us on the plane at one time. The only way we would have went, me or John my brother, was if we could have went together. We went in the service together and served over in Vietnam together.
I was just amazed. We got to see the Pentagon, the White House, stuff that I’ve always wanted to see, I got to see. It was awesome. We got to see the wall.
We got up there, and of course I wanted to look for some (names) and so did John. There were so many people. I got to touch it; it was awesome.
Everyone was there for the same reason we were. That wall was awesome. It was one of those things. You walked up there, you wanted to go up there and look, but yet you didn’t. You didn’t get to look-look like I wanted to, but that’s okay. I’m going to go out there again sometime. Maybe next time I can.
Me and my wife want to go and my brother John and his wife and we can spend a little bit more time. Everyone was doing the same kind of tour we were doing that day, so people were coming and going. It was neat. Washington DC was very neat.
My brother lives in Viola. We left at 2:45 in the morning, and our flight took off at 7:20 am, I think. We flew out there and spent the day out there. We got back into La Crosse the same night a little after 11.
They treated us very well. They gave us all the water you wanted, gave you snacks, food whatever you wanted. They didn’t allow anyone to drink alcohol because there was a lot of people and walking. It was awesome. I’ll never forget that.
My family was there when we got back and that meant a lot. I started crying. I feel like I’m lucky because there are a lot of guys that didn’t make it home from there. I was thinking I was doing it for these other guys too.
I was stationed in Phu Bai, South Vietnam. My brother was stationed in Da Nang right on the DMZ. We seen stuff. I was in communications as a radio man, and had to make sure me and the other guys kept the communications going. Then they had LP’s called listening patrols. I wore the radio.
We had checkpoints that we had to check every night. I thought, yeah, put that radio on my back and who are they going to go after first, me!
They used to have a big long antenna sticking up. I put the short one on so they couldn’t zoom in on me. I was very lucky we didn’t come into no crap. We were supposed to go out there and look for Charlie (Viet Cong) and radio back, and they’d send other guys out there to go find him.
We had checkpoints we had to do. It was like shaking a snake and see if it strikes. To me, it was like I was walking on eggshells all the time because you didn’t know what was going to happen. The jungle was so thick over there, you couldn’t see. You were scared to take a step, to be honest with you.
In your mind you didn’t want to, but you had to keep the thing rolling. It was hard. It was constant. I’m not just speaking for myself; a lot of the other vets will tell you the same thing. You never knew. To be honest, I didn’t think I’d make it out of that hell hole. They called them stupid and dumb (Viet Cong), but they were actually smarter than we were. They dug tunnels underground and used our own stuff against us. It was awful. I made it out of there at least.
I joined the Marines in March of ’68 and went over in the fall of ’69. The TET happened in the spring of ’69, but it was still a mess when I went. There scary part to me too was, we took off at Marine Corps Air Station El Coro in California, and went to Honolulu, Hawaii, because we had to refuel. We stayed there for a couple of hours and then they said we were going to land in De Nang.
We were in a regular plane like here in the states. They could have shot us down. As we got off the plane, there were guys going home too. It was scary the whole time I was there. The day they said I was coming back, I was happy. We shouldn’t have been there in the first place. We had no business there.
It was a bad experience as I was only 18/19 years old. For years, and still to this day, I’ll be sitting in a tree stand and I won’t even be thinking about it, and it will come to my head. It’s something you will never forget.
I didn’t agree with the war, but I did my job to the best of my ability. I didn’t want to be there, but it was my job. We were drafted, so we had no choice.
I knew if we joined the Army, we would have had to do 4 years active, 2 years inactive. So, we joined the Marines so we would only have to do 2 years active. But then we had 4 years of Reserve to meet our obligation.
In some ways, it helped me grow up a little bit, seeing what life was about. I thought, jeez this isn’t the way to learn about it. It helped me, but yet it didn’t.
I had issues for a long time after that. We almost got divorced because I wouldn’t talk about anything. That bothers me today yet.
A lot of the guys kind of gave up on it, but I went and seen a civilian psychiatrist. She said, ‘I know what you are going through.’ I looked at her and said, ‘No, you don’t. Don’t even go there lady.’ I said, ‘I’m not putting you down, but how can you say you know what I’m going through if it wasn’t you that experienced it.’ I got kind of angry with it because they just didn’t understand. But I did it to keep our marriage together and to keep me from being stupid and drinking all the time. I’m not the only one, a lot of guys do that. But, you gotta learn to get a handle on it and keep control of yourself.
My brother was the same way. If we wanted a wife and our kids, you gotta do a lot of thinking on your own time. Drinking ain’t the answer. It makes it worse.
We were not treated well. We were shown no respect at all. People would spit at you and call you baby killers. That didn’t make you feel too good. A lot of guys did this, but I didn’t; they went into the bathroom before we got to the airport, and changed into civilians. I didn’t do that. I was honored to wear that uniform. You don’t like it, too bad. A lot of them did to so they wouldn’t get no smack.
I wore my Marine Corp. uniform like I was supposed to be. If I was out and coming home on leave, I wore my uniform. I don’t hide behind anything. That is not me. If I have to pay the ultimate price, I’ll pay the ultimate price. It’s just a feeling I have and I still have that old flag from my uniform.
I go next week to get my lungs checked because I have COPD, and it’s gotten worse over the years. They want to check if I was exposed to agent orange. Of course, I was exposed to agent orange! I have friends that died at like 40 years old, 50 years old. Cancer. Of course, they got it from over there. They sprayed it constantly. Just like the farmers do to the crops around here.
They sprayed it from the planes or helicopters, and when you walk through the foliage, you’re going to get it on you.
That war we should have never been in. I wasn’t honored to serve in that beautiful country, bothering those poor people, and their culture. But it was more about fighting communism. I think it was a war for the government to make money. That’s how I feel honestly. I feel the same about Desert Storm.
When me and my brother were in Vietnam together, I was in a CB bunker and I went and asked for a 4-5-day pass. I was asked where I would want to go in this country? I wanted to see my brother in Da Nang for Christmas.
It was done. I was going by helicopter. When I was walking to the chopper, I forgot something. So, I went back to my barracks to get it, and the chopper was hit with a rocket, so everyone on that chopper was gone. I had to go on the next chopper, but I was scared to death.
They would never hit us til’ night time, and then they’d mortar us. That was one of those deals at daytime where they caught us off guard. Charlie never wanted to face us in the daytime, his battle was always at night.
From our base, you could hear him off in the distance, the artillery, you could hear small arms fire. It was quite aways away, but you could still hear it.
Vietnamese people were like chickens here, going about their business. It was scary. The house mouses (maids) who used to come in and clean the barracks, I didn’t want them in there. We cleaned our own God**** barracks. They paid them to go in there and clean. You never knew, but it was a chance you took.
It should be noted, that upon the brothers arriving home late at night, unbenounced to them, were greeted by their families and friends. Each were given a United States Marine Corps emblem, signed by family, and welcomed home. A welcome they never received before at an airport.
Welcome home Bill and John, welcome home.
Driftless Now, thanks Bill for welcoming us into his home, for sharing with us in his words, and on his terms, his story. At times, Bill’s eyes welled up with tears, tears I believe, were ones of healing.
There are countless stories like Bill’s, and each one just as important. I always make it a point, when me and my children are out, and see a man or woman wearing a shirt or hat, with the green, yellow, and red band, to say ‘Thank you for your sacrifices, and welcome home’.
