Homecoming, Did the US spit on Viet Nam Vets?

In 1989 Bob Greene wrote the book “Homecoming.” In it he researched the question “were you spat upon by anti-war protesters. When you returned?” He asks the question to let the American People know if it was a myth or fact.

In my case it was a figurative spit. I had just finished my time at Lowry AFB in Denver, Colorado where I was a shift supervisor in an Emergency Room. As most solders returning to civilian life I went looking for a job. At an employment agency, I told the lady behind the desk about by time in the Air Force, and how I was trusted to run an Emergency Room. She looked at me and said, ”Well that is nice, but what kind of real work experience do you have?” I was totally crushed. Four years in the Air Force and it counted for nothing. Later that week when I told the story to the boyfriend of a girl I had know before I went into the service. His comment was even worse, for he said, ”Well what do you expect, you were a fool for going. You should have been brave and fought the draft board.” Needless to say, I never talked to her or him again.
Exton

“For the record, I was t two-tour Vietnam vet, 1969-1970 and 1972-1973, In April 1970, when I was returning home from Vietnam, a “lady” spat at me in the airport in San Francisco. She also called me a baby killer, which was probably true.
Do not kid yourself; the peace movement was not just against the government, but also against us fools who served this country loyally.
The American people can go to hell before I or my sons fight another war for them.

I attend a military reunion in New York in 1968. I was standing in front of the Waldorf waiting for a cay when a young girl walked up to me and spat. She said something and walked away.
The doorman told me that it was not a “good idea” to wear a uniform in New York.

Yes, I am a Vietnam veteran who was spat upon-literally and figuratively. San Francisco International Airport on October 11, 1971 at 3:15 p.m., and yes , I was sill in uniform. To be exact, it was the same uniform that I wore during the last Fire Support Mission I was involved in, just 36 hours before landing in SF. No, I didn’t have mud, dir, or gunpowder on my uniform. A very kind Vietnamese woman at the Transit Company washed and ironed it for me so that I could come home to the country I love, looking nice. This was one hell of a lot more than I received upon arrival.
If I were the only one to be spat upon, the score would be: not spat upon, 1,999.999, spat upon 1. Of course, I know this score to be wrong. Literally because I saw others spat on, and figuratively because to spit on one Vietnam veteran is to spit on them all.
The person who spat on me was wearing a shirt that said “Welcome Home Baby Killer.” Now I am sure that this person did not represent all people in the US. In fact, I know this, because my wife and family didn’t spit on me and call me a baby killer. Of course, why would they. They know me. They know I was only doing what my country asked me to.
I was young, 20, when I went to Vietnam: I was there for a year and came back 21 going on 50. No joke intended here. I was so confused when the girl in the mall asked me if I just came back from Florida because I had such a nice tan. Then she moved a couple of steps away from me and stopped talking when I said, “No, back form Vietnam.”
Did you see “Platoon?” Try living what you saw in “Platoon” for a year. Go from that to McDonald’s hamburgers, fast cars, and flush toilets in just 36 hours. Have you ever had a 12-year-old kid ask you, “how many people did you get to kill, mister?” Try a few scenes like that and see if you feel spat upon.
I am sure by now you thing I am probably one of the Vietnam veterans who sit in a bar all day and can’t hold down a job. WRONG. I own an auto repair business and employ six other people.
About that image of a burly Green Beret walking through the airport and being spat upon by a war protester-let’s also remember that most war protesters or hippies or whatever name you want to attach to them were also becoming very aware of their rights as US citizens, and they knew that if this burly Green Beret did nothing they (protesters) had won, and if the burly Green Beret retaliated, they (protesters) still won. How could they lose?
For fifteen years I put Vietnam behind me by working 12 hours a day and telling myself that it couldn’t get to me because I wouldn’t let it. Then the tough guy started to fall apart. My wonderful wife of sixteen years couldn’t do anything right, and I was about to lose her and my three children.
After some of my friends (Vietnam veterans) told me that it wasn’t her that had change, it was me, I went to three doctors to find out what was happening to me. I ended up at a Veterans Clinic talking to psychiatrist, who told me this was very typical post—traumatic stress and depression from Vietnam. My wife (very understanding and supportive) and I are working on putting things back together while I am trying to learn to deal with my problems. Yes, my problems-not yours, or the US government’s, or that hippies’, or the war protesters’, or the girl at the mall’s, or my employees’ or my customers’, or my children’s. For God’s sake and by His Grace, never my children’s, yours, or anyone’s.

The book tells of hundreds of stories like this. I pray that it is not repeated in this war.

I landed in San Francisco in Oct. 71. I was fortunate that I was not spat on, but I did encounter other attacks. Perhaps because of my stature, none of the protesters got that close to me. (I am 6'2 and at that time, about 220lbs.) I endured the usual 'baby killer' lable and others I will not repeat here. I also had a paper bag thrown at me (presumably containing canine excrement), but it missed me. Once I got away from the dregs of San Francisco society, I was actually treated pretty well.

Stoney
http://www.juntosociety.com

Wasn't going to, but I'll tell my story. 6 of us were in a taxi returning from VN, in SF when a hippy spit on the taxi window while we were stopped at a red light. This Green Beret Capt in the front seat asked the driver to go around the block. As we approached the corner, the Capt. jumped out, got behind the hippy, tapped him on the shoulder. When hippy turned around the Capt. decked him, right between the eyes. Left him flat on his back. Got back in the taxi and we went on to SF airport.

I'm glad you told it. That punch between the eyes was for every guy that died, for every Mom who wept, for every wife and love, every sister, brother, cousin, and Friends who lost someone over there while these cowards sat in comfort here. That they had the audacity to SPIT on a person in uniform is sickening (It doesn't matter that you all were in the cab,.. his intentions were the same).

The Captain punched that guy for us too. For all the wounded my husband carried out, for all the dead he carried out,.. for my POW's I worked on, for those we knew who we lost. For our fallen brothers and sisters in arms. I wish I could thank him in person!!

Your story just made my day :o)

Thanks!! And THANKYOU FOR SERVING!! God Bless, Vets

"So, I dodged the draft - and I'd do the same thing today, in similar circumsatances. They told me that they were having to eat s**t from sergeants who were Georgia rednecks with 3rd-grade educations (and I'm not making *that* up either, that's a direct quote) - and that they were risking their lives for nothing. I took what I thought to be their advice, and I have NO regrets."
"Like I said, I must have been on another planet..."

I'd love to help you GET back to the planet you came from. What a slimeball. You are the lowest of low.. a total coward. Oh, and pray tell, how does one dodge the draft and remain in Portland Oregon?

I leave you with a quote about people like you:

"War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse. The person who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety, is a miserable creature and has no chance of being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself. ~~ John Stuart Mill ~~

I am absolutely ecstatic that you made your decision. My branch, the Navy, certainly didn't need morons like you!
I guess you never thought deeply about how freedom is protected.

Not at age 18, I didn't. And not when my friends who'd gotten drafted were telling me not to make the same mistake they did.

And you're right... you can be glad I never got into the military at that age - but not for the reasons you think...

You wrote blah, blah, blah .... So, I dodged the draft .....
You should be ashamed ..... very very ashamed !

Of what? Taking the advice of people who'd already gone in?

I suppose you'd tell me that if somebody you know bashes their head against a wall and then tells you they wished they hadn't done it, you should insist on doing it anyway...

I'd love to help you GET back to the planet you came from. What a slimeball. You are the lowest of low.. a total coward. Oh, and pray tell, how does one dodge the draft and remain in Portland Oregon?

I must say, the intellectual calibre of your reply is truly inspiring...

I leave you with a quote about people like you:

Unfortunately, you didn't. You left me with a quote about people who eschew war and things military. I never said I did that - I said I took the advice of people who'd already made what they told me was a mistake.

But you didn't even bother to read my post - you just came flaming unglued, just like the knee-jerk liberals of whom you so disapprove...

(ashamed)... Of what? Taking the advice of people who'd already gone in ? ....

The answers to your question are self evident to anyone with principles and forever beyond the understanding of those without them. Everyone was afraid and fear is nothing to be ashamed of ...... but rationalizing your failure to be honorable is feeble.

You and Bubba are cut from the same cloth ....

I sincerely hope you are not raising children.

You're dodging my question... and why are you so sure I'm rationalizing, and not just telling you exactly what happened? (Of course, if I were merely telling the truth, you'd have to ask some uncomfortable questions about your own convictions of moral superiority... which would explain both your accusation of rationalizing and your reluctance to answer my question...)

.... why are you so sure I'm rationalizing,......

Because now, about 30 years later, you are blaming your failure to do the honorable thing on others (.... those who answered the call.)

..... if I were merely telling the truth,.....

I'm sure you are telling the truth .... that you relied on the advice of friends who did fight in the war ....... and in doing so have foever dishonored yorself. IMO, it is you who are skirting the issue ..... which is about your honor and principles. It most assuredly is not about those who did answer the bell.<p.have you ever wondered why it is that after all this time you feel the need to justify your shameful failure ????

I'm sure you are telling the truth .... that you relied on the advice of friends who did fight in the war ....... and in doing so have foever dishonored yorself.

That's an interesting claim, that I "dishonored myself" by listening to the advice of those who fought. (Maybe you should read your own reply a couple of times).

And to whom are you expecting that I should have listened instead? Are you assuming that there was anyone else *more* worthy of my respect - in particular, someone who *didn't* go - who was giving me advice?

have you ever wondered why it is that after all this time you feel the need to justify your shameful failure ????

What gives you the idea I feel any such need? I'm just responding to *your* accusations in this thread - would you rather I didn't?

I am glad to hear that you received a much better reception than the Vietnam Vets received. I was one of the crazy people wearing yellow ribbons and carrying flags at the "Support The Troops" rallies.

But I must say that a large part of the reason for the rallies was because of the Vietnam Vets. They were leaders in organizing and supporting these rallies. I went to several in northern California and surprise, surprise, the only place we got any bad reaction from the community was in San Francisco. While we were there, a whole bus load of Vietnam Veterans came down from Sacramento to take part. It was something to see.

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