I’m beyond excited to finally share the big reveal book launch of Vietnam Uncensored, my personal memoir, that will launch soon! 🎉 Sign up here to stay in the loop and get access to the special book launch price and giveaways: https://vietnamjerry.com.This isn’t just another war story. Vietnam Uncensored takes you deep into the raw, emotional experiences of young American soldiers who were thrust into the heart of the Vietnam War — facing unimaginable challenges and forging unbreakable bonds of brotherhood. This is the real story, no Hollywood filter.But here’s what makes this launch even more special: All net proceeds from the book will be donated to The Kaufman Fund, a charity d...

In Vietnam, the truth became clear. The future was not ours. It belonged to the children in schools, the kids of the powerful who twisted the rules. They evaded the draft, attended fine universities, and lived in safety. They went to Canada or found favor in their faith. The future slipped away from those of us who did not remain in high school. It was not for the kids who left to work, struggling earn a living. It did not belong to the working-class who could not afford college.For those of us who answered the call, whether drafted or not, we stood firm. We held to our oaths, believing our leaders had honor. In the end, we learned they did not. I'm excited to share the launch...

In a moment of clarity, I came to think about the measurement of our success against the backdrop of the incredulous death and destruction of the war. I began to pick on the small things to figure out some kind of guide. For instance, did it matter how far we marched or climbed to reach the target? Was there some number representing these achievements? Of course, numerous missions and enemy confrontations existed. Although we succeeded in each assignment, our lives often rested on narrow escapes. Was there some number that would foretell the outcome, or was achievement the only guide? Perhaps we would rise one morning to find the war had ended as we slept? After all, Vietnam’s ni...

I often wondered whether our unit made a difference on Vietnam’s battlefields. After all, when we were there, troop levels had risen to 550,000, Westmorland broadcasted the war would soon end, and Chicken Little ran around crying, “The sky is falling!”   It became clear the only difference we could uphold was our survival.  But each day, a new set of existential circumstances appeared. Regardless of the preparation, the only constant represented a fierce and fearless enemy that awoke with the same mindset of killing as many Americans as possible. And still, we moved into that tangle of rice paddies, mountains, jungle, impossible, heat and humidity.  With e...

I remember that November in Vietnam. The team was inside the Cambodian jungle on the way to our target. The heavy rain created mud pools wherever we slept. The insect bites quickly became infected, and we taped our broken and swollen fingers together. But we continued until exhaustion overtook us, and even then, we briefly rested and continued.  Any delay could increase the odds of an enemy encounter, so it was best to get the mission over with, regardless of the challenges. As the dawn broke and light shafted through dense jungle vegetation, I thought of that mythical place eight thousand miles away called America; people were sitting down for a meal, working at an office desk, or...

My buddies and I were never much to boast about our achievements on the battlefields of Vietnam. As many others, we did our duty by following the orders of our superiors. We stood to our oaths and protected those with whom we served with the mindset of sacrificing all in a war-torn country where our lives became challenged by an enemy intent on our destruction.In civilian life, we did not wear patches, caps, or tee shirts announcing our military service to a civilian population. After all, it was sufficient that we knew what we did. We entered Vietnam with the thought of hoping to return home alive and uninjured.We did not know the residual effects the war would have on our future lives. It ...

There was no good or evil on the battlefields. As Drill Sergeant Greeley often said, “The only unfair fight is the one you lose!” All manner of showering the enemy with as much damage as possible was always the objective. But it didn’t work that way. Occasionally, we became the prey by walking into an ambush or losing a firefight. More than once, we encountered a greater enemy force. After all, everything in Vietnam was out to kill us, even doing nothing.Friendly artillery fire was inaccurate, and air support would not reach us in time. Every field unit was on its own, and we depended on our commanders to find the strategy to win and survive. Unfortunately, the enemy could care le...

Vietnam Uncensored is not just a memoir; it’s a powerful, accurate exploration of life after combat. Jerry’s poignant narrative reveals how the relentless echoes of Vietnam persist in his everyday life, from the roar of jet engines to the harsh sunlight that stirs fears of snipers. The book captures the essence of trauma that lingers long after the battlefield has faded from sight. Each page unveils a raw, vivid recounting of narrow escapes, the relentless grind of survival, and the struggles of adapting to civilian life after years of internal and external conflict.In this deeply personal account, Jerry shares how he buried his pain under layers of alcohol, drugs, and anger, only to fin...

Some equate military service with heroes and warriors of incredible strength, skill, and meaningful objectives. They view Marines, Navy Seals, Airborne, and Special Forces units as the ultimate U.S. fighting soldiers. It is one thing to watch actors perform death-defying feats, become injured, and die on film. However, they will rise from the wounded and dead following the scene. In combat, every part of the human body and mind comes under attack without regard to the outcome. The mission succeeds if the line remains unbroken, and injury and death remain acceptably low. I have often considered the answer to the question, “Would you trade the good life for serving your country?”...

THE idea the battlefields of Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia posed severe existential threats did not escape us. However, our training in the Army, Marines, Navy, and Air Force indoctrinated us to understand and resist misery, injury, and death.In the grand scheme of things, it was all temporary. “Suck it up!” would often come if we complained and we did. Of all the things in our lexicon of survival, quitting was not an option — survival was. Let’s face it: by the very nature of occupying a war zone equated with the concept, everything would pose challenges, injury, and mortal threats. We needed to find a way of returning to that mythical place called the U.S.A. Our lives d...

If only the Vietnam War were a Shakespearian comedy written by a practiced and experienced hand instead of the arrogant and incompetent politicians running our country during successive presidential administrations ending with Nixon and his morally wrong advisor, Kissinger. Instead of every event in the script leading to brilliant success, the leading protagonists in our drama made incredible errors. Some instructions from superiors brought injury and death without any sense of victory.  The North Vietnamese and Viet Cong were everywhere except in the North. U.S. military leaders did not understand why the enemy did not get the message to say put in their neck of the country.&...

Nothing proved the pen was mightier than the sword than the history of the Vietnam War. The speech writers did an excellent job of creating false scenarios of halting the spread of communism in Southeast Asia and painting an evil portrait of Ho Chi Minh. Yet he remained a staunch ally of the U.S. as we fought the Japanese during WW II. Our government orchestrated a script with a false purpose that did not serve America’s interests. Instead, Vietnam returned to the corrupt and colonialist French, who previously raped and pillaged the country before the war. I will forever remain bewildered by the duplicity, deceit, and betrayal successive American administrations perpetrated on No...

Our guide to the Cambodian encampment would not become available until evening. It stalled us for more than five hours at the holdover in Nha Trang. We hopped on a ride to the beach area. Nha Trang was a favorite R&R spot for in-country personnel. We picked up a couple of beers, two pizzas, and a few bags of chips at the local canteen and headed out for some sun and sand. As we lounged around, two young dogs frolicked in the sand. It was the way they fake bit, puppy growled and rolled over one another that kept our amused attention. One of the guys went to pick one up when a vigilant MP called out. “Hey!” he yelled from the entrance guard post. “Don’t touch th...

We obliterated the words forgiveness, redemption, and salvation from our language. We would never find deliverance from the things we did and witnessed in combat. The events were irredeemable and ours to carry for all time. The incidents occurring in the war would forever bring regret, remorse, and depression. It became an incurable illness that could not be out-run, out-trained, out-medicated, or outlived. The name was PTSD, but it did not adequately describe the mental and physical anguish it caused. We came to see the images in our dreams as night terrors. It brought anger at a moment’s notice. And it made us intolerant of others and of those we cared about. We turne...

Vietnam Uncensored offers a harrowing exposé of the Vietnam War, challenging the official narrative with a raw and unflinching look at the conflict's true cost. Through personal anecdotes and historical analysis, I reveal how the war was driven by deceit, broken promises, and moral corruption. This gripping account not only explores the devastating impact on soldiers and their families but also criticizes the indifference of politicians who escaped the war's horrors unscathed. Scheduled for release in early November, Vietnam Uncensored promises a stark, honest portrayal of a war that continues to shape the lives of veterans.Proceeds will support the Kaufman Fund, aiding veter...

We all retain Hollywood imprints of what military heroes look like. We believe such individuals possess perfect bodies with strength, skill, and endurance. We see them race into danger, become wounded, and continue to victory. But these fictional heroes do not die. Instead, they claim victory against terrible odds and accomplish impossible feats. And yet, of all the medals won in Vietnam, the men and women who stood up to intense existential threats appeared no more than the boy or girl who sat next to us in high school or college. They represented average Americans taken from a typical life and thrust into the incredible carnage that became the Vietnam War—young men who car...

We did not own the power to restrain combat's irrevocable effects on us. We did not see the changes to signify our former world no longer existed. Yet, we never became apologetic for serving our country. Those who served in that terrible war remained honored patriots until the end of all things. I love the U.S.A. and everything and everyone in its borders. Americans are complicated and strange, but we are a fantastic bunch. No other population yields open-minded, fast-thinking individuals who love a good joke, national holidays, and the best of the best the art and sports world can produce. We admire excellence in all its forms and care and typically stand up for the little gu...

My buddies and I returned from Vietnam with little expectations of becoming rich men. After succumbing to the worst year of our lives, we all wanted to acquire the love of a good woman, becoming a father, a small house with a back lawn holding a swing set, a barbeque, and a few chairs around a table to have picnics.   There would be a garage for a car, a driveway to hold a pick-up, and a front lawn with a flower bed. It didn’t seem like much to the shakers and movers, but it would forever represent enough.   Unfortunately, our PTSD made it impossible to work for another, so I started a business. On one deal, the supplier offered the evening of an escort. ...

There are women whose attraction takes the breath away. Dai Lin was such a person. Her complexion was neither black, brown, yellow, or tan. It appeared the same golden color as an Italian sunset at midday. Her face displayed delicate features fluctuating between Oriental, Black, and European lineage. The bovine eyes reflected your image in an emerald-green halo, captivating your attention. Under the embroidered satin Ao Dai gown, her body moved with the erotic movements of a jungle cat, her legs and buttocks outlined by the contours of her form pressing against the clinging fabric. Dai Lin hid her face in public under a cone straw hat and a drab shawl wrapped around her s...

It was hard to give up on our dreams of home and thoughts of what awaited us on our return. But we did not have an alternative.It became difficult to think about a future beyond the battlefield. Combat dulled the senses.Deep in our hearts, a spark remained of who we wanted to become after the war. But the longer we stayed in Vietnam, the harder it became to remember.How could we know the hardships that awaited when we finally returned? It never occurred we would no longer fit into our former lives.  What we thought would appear the same had radically changed.Our dreams of homecoming would sink into the quicksand of PTSD that sabotaged our success. Yet, we did not recognize our transform...

There was no sense in thinking of what would happen on the next mission. It was useless to extrapolate the future even with advanced logistics. Nothing went as planned, and the enemy proved cunning, relentless, and elusive. We needed to quell the anxiety, plan as best we could, and step into the theater representing the Vietnam War. Were we successful? Ideally, the team would manage to complete our assignments and return uninjured. I’m sorry to say it was not the case. But our training, combat experience, and brotherhood made us into formidable adversaries.  Unfortunately, more than 58,000 of my brothers and sisters perished in that war, and 150,000 returned wounded. Th...

Authors bereft of finding material to fill modern-day horror stories need only to finger the pages explaining the Vietnam War. They will find enough terror, suspense, blood, gore, and insanity to fuel any account that will cause the reader to shiver at every page.  Nothing happening in that terrible place ever made sense. The enemy appeared and disappeared as trolls and goblins in a mythical tale. They lived underground, climbed steep mountainous terrain lugging piecemeal artillery without the help of helicopters, and emerged again regardless of the numbers we decimated.It was as if the land was a voracious entity demanding to drink our blood. As strange as it now seems, the U...