The cry pierced the air and Marines dropped to the ground hoping to find any little depression they could. Hoping the incoming would not land on them. Hoping they would see home again.

Welcome to Echo Battery, somewhere in the I Corps area just south of the DMZ in South Vietnam. It is 1968 and I have just assumed command of this Artillery Battery assigned to support the 9th Marines.

What is it like to go to a war not of your own choosing? What is it like to be in a Marine artillery battery? How does it feel to drive on bumpy, dust-filled roads not knowing who is your friend or who is your enemy? Hear the wop, wop, wop of choppers coming to claim the wounded. Heat C-rations over a chunk burning C-4. Think about living and think about dying.

It has been 45 years since my last "incoming" and finally I can record some memories of that time. A short, but incredibly intense thirteen months, which molded my character and perspective for the rest of my years.

Letters Never Written
South Vietnam, 1968