The American War Museum
July, 2005: Viet Nam
I am in Viet Nam, visiting the American War Museum. The country is celebrating 30 years since the end of this war. I have always been drawn to this war. Why were we ever there? What did we hope to accomplish? Would I ever fight in a war? What great atrocity would have to be committed to motivate me to take up arms against another human being?
The last soldiers sent over there would be my age now. They would be men who have had their children and are now slipping into the role of grandparents.
I notice a photo of an American taken in 1970; he looks to be about 18 but must be my age now, maybe even older. He is bare chested, smoking a cigarette and he is holding something with one hand. He is grinning, ear-to-ear. I look closer and he is holding the head and upper torso of a Vietnamese man. The rest of this body been blown away. Our soldier holds this head like a trophy, like a hunter who has just snagged a buck. Of all the destruction I see today, this photo haunts me the most and I wonder what this man would think of his photo now, 30 years later.
Memoirs of an Ordinary Woman 