Amazon Category:  Memoir Publisher: Dick Rose ISBN-10:  978888880615695020 Type: Non-Fiction Pages: 103 Copyright: Dec. 12, 2012 A collection of essays, commentaries, poetry and two short stories. A poem about war, a book review of Macnamara's Book on Vietnam, a humorous recounting of how I had to  tell my wife I had orders to Vietnam, Christmas song paarodies, a universal short story and a fictional recounting of one of my experiences as a Navy combat correspondent in the Mekong Delta. Excerpt VIETNAM AS A GUILT-EDGED BOND Late in October, 1994, around Harvest Moon time, Chapter 419 President Ed Hedrick and I attended the VVA National Leadership Conference in Denver, so we could, among other things, pick up a few pointers for getting the chapter moving. We attended meetings, training sessions, project seminars, and an awards luncheon. It was, as it was meant to be, educational and enlightening. On the last evening, when there was nothing scheduled, I went down to the lobby of the hotel and mingled with members from other chapters, other states. This was educational, too, in a serendipitous way. Perhaps it was the moon, or the mood, or the calm after a three fast-paced days, but the aura was one of retrospection. Of course, anything to do with Vietnam is retrospective, and introspective. That’s what draws us together—shared experiences, with the perverse realization that we all had different experiences which cannot be shared. What I saw, what I heard, was a sense of regret, a sense of loss, of lack of completion. Everyone, including me, seemed to feel guilty about something. For me it was triggered by some guys at a piano singing about Saigon Commandos, colloquially known as REMFs. I suppose that was how I view myself. Sure, I wasn’t in Saigon all the time. I did some time on the river patrol boats, on attack helicopters, and even a memorable ambush op with some Vietnamese commandos (Xung Kich) and their Semper Fi advisors. But that wasn’t enough. Other navymen were on the river 12-14 hours a day, 7 days a week. Others flew combat patrol missions every day. I only did it a few times. It’s what kept me from joining VVA much sooner. I didn’t feel I belonged. I felt guilty. But I didn’t realize that others who had done all those things I hadn’t done also felt guilty. They didn’t do as many missions as others, or as long a mission as a buddy did, or encounter as much hostile fire, or get wounded, or even get killed. This last was brought to my attention with a poem called The Missing Name, in the Chapter 526 Newsletter, where the writer regrets his name in not on the wall next to that of his buddy. And then there’s the guilt felt by those who served during the era, but not in-country. And at least one associate member expressed his regret that he wasn’t old enough to have served (his father did). Perhaps this is what the psychologists call Survivor’s Guilt. Or perhaps not Is it guilt, regret, reminiscence, nostalgia, or None of the Above. Is it something for which I have an answer, since I’ve posed the question? Absolutely not! Am I playing with words, with memories, with ideas? Perhaps. I don’t know. I do know that there was something there, amid the cigarette smoke and the piano music, amid the clinking of glasses at the bar and the camaraderie, amid the singing of old songs and the quiet conversations. What was it? Was it all part of a guilt-edged bond we all share? Or was it all only the Harvest Moon? January 1995

An Excellent Memoir
5.0 out of 5 stars An Excellent Memoir! February 28, 2013
By Lesley E. Smith
Richard S. Rose, Retired Master Chief Journalist, U.S. Navy, has opened his heart and soul in his memoir. The Vietnam War was a powerful and unforgettable part of his life, and he reflects on the wide range of feelings at different times and experiences in his career -- idealism, ambivalence, doubt, disillusionment. His words resonate, and he gently probes into life's emotions. The author is a rare talent, a gift to the world.