Vietnam War Biography

Army First Lieutenant Jack Jacobs was serving as an advisor to the South Vietnamese when he and his men came under devastating attack. Severely wounded, Jacobs took command and withdrew the unit, returning again and again to the site of the attack to rescue more men, saving the lives of a U.S advisor and thirteen Allied soldiers. Colonel Jacobs received the nation's highest military award, the Medal of Honor.

An inside account of the South Vietnamese elites who strove to carry on the war against the Communists during the US Army’s withdrawal. The book is a personal memoir of the author’s service as a US Army advisor during the end stages of America’s involvement in Vietnam. During the period 1970–71, the US was beginning to draw down its combat forces, and the new watchword was “Vietnamization.”

My memoir traces the events of my early life from 1962 to 1974 when my family found itself in the epicenter of the Vietnam War. When I was eleven years old my father, then Commander James Stockdale, was shot down and declared "missing in action" in September 1965. The emotional impact of that news devastated me, my mother Sybil Stockdale, and my three brothers, but we struggled to carry on somewhat normal lives.

Finding Pete is one of the great, untold true stories of an escalating war and a young man caught in its sights. This personalized account of a critical moment in US history is the moving story of an altruistic youth who personifies what America lost in Vietnam. It is also a portrait of a family's struggle with loss, a mother's damaging grief, and, most of all, a sister's quest to solve a mystery and recover the connection with her brother.

With a compass to direct him in his job as a forward observer and a personal camera to document his experiences - and keep him connected to his creative side - Vietnam veteran Steven Burchik was lucky enough to make it home and years later decided to write about the most challenging year of his life.

I have waited for over 45 years to tell this story, initially because I just wanted to forget the war and get on with making a living and raising a family. The other reason is that, 45 years ago, the American fighting man was not held in very high esteem. No one was ready to hear anything good about the Vietnam War or about the men who fought and died there. This book is less about me and more about the sacrifice, incredible hardships, and heroic actions displayed by the Marine grunts that I had the privilege to treat during battles on the demilitarized zone.

"Sarge, are you dead?" His question brought me back to consciousness. "Uh, no, at least I don't think so." I felt something sticky under my shirt. I reached inside my shirt, and my hand came out soaked in blood. The only thought that went through my mind was, "This is my blood on the outside of my body. This is not good." I joined the Army because I wanted freedom. My high school principal told me that I needed to grow up. We arrived in Vietnam on Dec. 15, and on Christmas day 1967, I grew up. A "training mission" turned into a full-scale firefight.

Call Sign Dracula provides a valuable and worthy in-depth look into the life of a US Army Infantry soldier serving with the famed 1st Infantry Division (The Big Red One) in Vietnam. It is a genuine, firsthand account of a one-year tour that shows how a soldier grew and matured from an awkward, bewildered, inexperienced, 18-year-old country bumpkin from Kentucky, to a tough, battle-hardened fighting soldier.

Peter Huchthausen, a river patrol officer on Vietnam's Mekong River Delta in 1967, rescued a badly wounded Vietnamese child, Nguyen Thi Lung. He and his men arranged for the girl's treatment and education, only to lose track of her when her town was overrun by the North Vietnamese during the Tet Offensive.

Bob Kerrey grew up outside Lincoln, Nebraska, in the 1950s, and in his trademark style - serious, sometimes wry - he tells of his journey from that heartland to the dangers of Vietnam, to the hospitals where he recovered from his grievous injuries, and finally to the Nixon White House where he was awarded the Medal of Honor.

In the fall of 1969, Gary Bray landed in South Vietnam as a recently married, freshly minted second lieutenant in the U.S. Army. His assignment was not enviable: leading the platoon whose former members had committed the My Lai massacre--the murder of hundreds of Vietnamese civilians--18 months earlier. In this compelling memoir, he shares his experiences of Vietnam in the direct wake of that terrible event.

With remarkable clarity and with great detachment, Kidder looks back at himself from across three and a half decades, confessing how, as a young lieutenant, he sought to borrow from the tragedy around him and to imagine himself a romantic hero. Unrelentingly honest, rueful, and revealing, My Detachment gives us war without heroism, while preserving those rare moments of redeeming grace in the midst of lunacy and danger.

This is an intimate look at life in the bush during the Vietnam War in 1968. You will experience the daily struggles, battles, and funny things that happen to a USMC grunt living in the bush for 13 months. You’ll see firsthand through the battles, what marines ate and drank, where they slept, and their existence that ranged from unmitigated terror to utter boredom, hot and dry to wet and cold, rested and ready to frazzled and wired.

Chaplain James D. Johnson chose to accompany his men, unarmed, on their daily combat operations, a decision made against the recommendations of his superiors. During what would be the final days for some, he offered his ministry not from a pulpit but on the battlefields - in hot landing zones and rice paddies, in hospitals, aboard ship, and knee-deep in mud. Through his compelling narration, he takes us into the hearts of frightened young boys and the minds of experienced men.

Following the success of Jarhead, Anthony Swofford assumed he had exorcised his military demons - but as every veteran knows, that isn't exactly how it works. In these searing, courageous pages, Swofford struggles to make sense of what his military service meant, and to decide - after nearly ending it - what his life can and should become. Consumed by drugs, booze, fast cars, and the wrong women, Swofford almost lost everything and everyone that mattered to him.

Warren Robinson planned to go to law school after completing his undergraduate degree. He saw a career in law as a chance to leave his small hometown for a new life in the big city. In another time, Robinson might have achieved his goal, but the year was 1967, and the Vietnam War was reaching its bloody height. Knowing he would be drafted if he went ahead with his plans, Robinson asked for his name to be put at the top of his community's selective service list.

Father Vincent Robert Capodanno was a US Navy chaplain killed in Vietnam in 1967 with his Marine search unit in Operation Swift. Outnumbered 2,500 to 500 Marines, he was killed protecting a corpsman who was administering first aid to a soldier.

In 1967, at age 19, John Stillman - refusing to wait for the draft - voluntarily enlisted in the Army to aid his fellow countrymen in one of the most opposed involvements in our nation’s history: the Vietnam War. Written with John’s daughter, Lori Stillman, Jumping from Helicopters is a vivid and moving memoir that unearths 50 years of repressed memories with stunning accuracy and raw details.

In this inspiring meditation on courage, Senator John McCain shares his most cherished stories of ordinary individuals who have risked everything to defend the people and principles they hold most dear. These are some of the examples McCain turns to for inspiration and offers to others to help them summon the resolve to be both good and great. He explains the value of courage in both everyday actions and extraordinary feats. Most of all, listeners discover how sometimes simply setting the right example can be the ultimate act of courage.

In 2003, already an older father, National Book Award–winning novelist Tim O’Brien resolved to give his young sons what he wished his own father had given to him—a few scraps of paper signed “Love, Dad.” Maybe a word of advice. Maybe a sentence or two about some long-ago Christmas Eve. Maybe some scattered glimpses of their rapidly aging father, a man they might never really know. For the next fifteen years, the author talked to his sons on paper, as if they were adults, imagining what they might want to hear from a father who was no longer among the living.