Requesting permission to share our story from the daughter of a 2nd Lieutenant who volunteered for duty in Vietnam in 68

[mahina]

Last edited Fri Mar 20, 2026, 08:46 PM - Edit history (4)

https://www.democraticunderground.com/100221107654

Since I wrote it, I think the 4 paragraph rule is not in force.

All errors or incorrect use of terminology is my own. This is true.

I can't think of a better place to share it than here, but I understand this forum is for veterans, not for families of; I will remove immediately it if you folks feel I've put it in the wrong forum.

And thank you for all you've given the United States. Always.
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In 1969 a young 2nd Lieutenant who'd volunteered to serve, recruited for special forces, posted to the tri-border

region of Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos arrived in the Central Highlands village where he was to spend the next year. He was embedded with a Jarais tribe of Montagnards.

In the orientation materials and reports allegedly written by his predesessors, provided to him by the US Army, he anticipated arriving at a village that had the following:

A well-built school fully equipped with desks and chalkboards, made of concrete, fully staffed with an administration including a principal, teachers, and maintenance workers. These posts were all on payroll and were paid every month. Those people did not exist.

A complete clinic with medics (Bouxi,) an administration and maintenance workers also all on payroll every month, also did not exist.

Wells made of concrete, without regard to the fact that Montagnards will only drink running water such as that in a stream. They are animist people. They will never drink standing water as would be found in the well. That “well” functionally did not exist anyway, as it was made with such inferior cement, overmixed with sand to steal every possible penny, that it was crumbling. The Jarais used it as a place to throw rubbish.

At least the well existed. The “schools” and “clinic” were vaporware. The paychecks though- those were real. That money was going somewhere, for sure.

When he reported these details of what he had found on the ground to his 'superiors' in Da Nang in the cool comfort of their air conditioned offices, he expected that they too would be alarmed at the corruption.

Guess what?

They not want to hear about it. Worse, if he said anything further about it to them or anybody, he would be punished- very severely. To show him they meant business, they no longer allowed him any money at all. He could only survive on what he could catch and kill himself or trade for, fully independent of any support from the US Army. (I don't understand why he didn't arrange to reduce the money he sent home to my mother for our support, but maybe the answer is in the question.)

Can you just try to imagine that for a moment?

Just a few months ago you were the head of the marketing department at a bank in your hometown. You volunteered to serve your country, thinking you were doing the right thing. You grew up looking up to the Hawaii 442nd like they saved the world, which they did. You left your family and arrived to discover that you're in the middle of a major corruption racket. And now the Army that you loved wasn’t even going to pay you your money for food, much less provide any meaningful material support to the villagers. And you are in the middle of a war, essentially cut adrift, getting shot at and worse by the VC, who were now secondary to the threat posed by our own government.

How’s that for some bullshit?

Had did it not been for a network of people he knew if from where he grew up, he questioned whether he would have even survived.

That the immense gift of his sacrifice and service was so abused for nothing was only part of what broke his heart there. To summarize, we were to adopt 12 year old Jarais boy, Jaol. His father, the village chieftain, had been beheaded as he would not force the subsistence farming villagers to instead collect sticks and make coal for the VC.

Jaol became attached to my father. My father sought Jaol's mother's agreement to adopt him and bring him home to the US, to our family. She wanted him to come to the US with Dad. My Mom agreed to this; we were looking forward to welcoming him as a brother, though I knew nothing of this yet.

Jaol did not survive. There are other things to say about this that I don't feel like sharing.

Back to the disgusting corruption:you know it has not gotten any better.

All of this is a disgrace at a scale I cannot even comprehend, and here we are all over again, blowing people up with our tax money. It makes me want to vomit all day.

I am still so deeply angry for what happened to my beautiful, smart, funny and heroic father. (I am told I am one to always look for the silver lining, so, silver lining here: Donald Jessica Trump was sidelined by his dreadful case of bone spurs, so at least there was no chance he was assigned to my father. Because my Dad would very likely have liberated some of DJT's teeth.

Back to Dad's true story. We only learned of all this after he passed from his written documentation to the VA. He had quit the army days before he would’ve been eligible for his pension. He had had it.

Assholes in suits from the CIA kept showing up at our front door trying to recruit him over the years. He told them very clearly to fuck off. He was a tall, imposing physical presence, and a very bright man with a huge heart who loved his country. When he told them to fuck off, they scuttled off quick.

It’s way past time for us to change, people. For real for real. I don’t want this to happen to anybody's Dad or Mom or sibling from anywhere in the US. And I can not tolerate the cruel indifferent mass violence on people who didn't do anything to us! All those kids! My God in heaven!

This bullshit has GOT to STOP!

[GP6971]

1. Thank you for posting...it's fine as it's veterans related.

I don't believe you have to be a veteran to participate in this group. As long as the post is veteran related you should be fine.

[mahina]

2. Thank you GP6971.

I appreciate you.

aloha kākou (everyone here)