I started this work back in 1973, and it has been a very difficult process because I could actually feel those same emotions as I wrote about them. Perhaps one of the most astonishing things I learned is that time does not diminish the edge of those extreme emotions. Just as you learn to bury certain emotions and feelings in war, you have to learn how to incorporate those extremes into some degree of "normalcy." It has been both therapeutic and painful, but I wouldn't have it any other way. The pain helps me to appreciate life and to appreciate others as human beings. It's just that I wish we could learn these things in a better way.
If I had to choose one thing as being the single, greatest thing the Marines taught me it would be that no matter what the obstacle is, no matter what life throws at you, never, ever, give up. Many times, since Vietnam I have wanted to give up, but that one life lesson, that voice barking out saying "one more" wouldn't let me. I owe a lifetime debt of gratitude to the Marine Corps and to my Drill Instructors: SSgt. Sunn, SSgt. Garcia, and especially Sgt. Clark. My Marine training and experience is something that time and reflection have taught me more to appreciate.
Some readers will be upset by the use of racial references, some will be upset by the vulgar language, some by the stark brutality, some by the sexual references. I can sanitize my manuscript and give the reader a false sense of how war reduces the humanity of an individual but in a paradoxical twist heroic and superhuman efforts would erupt in the defense of your brothers-in-arms. Not only that, but sanitizing the past distorts history and lulls a person into a nonchalant manner of behavior in determining courses of action. The end result is that I would defeat the purpose that compelled me to write my book in the first place. So, what is the point? I hope that you understand what I am trying to achieve.
President Nixon had a program that allowed for any Vietnam combat Marine, who had a year or less to serve, opt to be released from active duty and still retain full VA benefits. I took advantage of that program and served one year and seven months and then was released from my two-year commitment.
During my nineteen months in the Marines, I consistently received above average evaluations from my superiors, I went from Private E-1 to Corporal E-4 in fourteen months, fast for Marine Corps standards even in combat in Vietnam, was promoted to a Section Leader in Weapons Platoon, offered a promotion to Sergeant E-5 in less than seventeen months with a $6,000.00 bonus and an immediate thirty day leave anywhere in the free world if I would re-enlist, and I was honorably discharged. In addition, I have been awarded the Combat Action Ribbon (awarded only to those who served in combat), Presidential Unit Commendation, Meritorious Unit Commendation Ribbon w/3B*, National Defense Service Medal, Vietnam Service Medal w/4B*, Republic of Vietnam Meritorious Unit Citation (Gallantry Cross Medal Color w/Palm), Republic of Vietnam Meritorious Unit Citation (Civil Actions Medal, First Class Color w/Palm), and the Vietnam Campaign Medal w/Device.
The title, The Mailman Went UA, came from our little song and dance routine that we performed when we didn't receive any mail. It reflected the utter desperation of trying not to drown in aloneness and a heartbreak that extended beyond the lack of mail to who you were as a human being, and that impact is impossible to put into words and to shake. The mail was our only touch with any degree of normalcy. It was more than a connection with the "World." It was the essential element in preserving our sanity. We were surrounded by death and destruction and became unfazed by them, but we were always hit hard when we didn't receive any mail.