Today once again I recognize how fortunate I am to be comfortably retired.  To have somehow survived for 66 years is an admirable accomplishment, with a Social Security Actuarial Life table showing a 79% likelihood.  That means that 21% of males born in the same year of 1951 were not as lucky!  If I were a female, the figure is closer to 87%.  However, not all that live to this age are as healthy, and even fewer do not enjoy financial freedom.  In 1970, Emerson, Lake, & Palmer wrote “Lucky Man.”  “Oh what a lucky man he was,”  “He had white horses and ladies by the score,  All dressed in satin and waiting by the door.  He went to fight wars for his country and his king, Of his honor and his glory the people would sing.”  Even though, “Lucky Man” died by a bullet in the song, he was still considered lucky.  I guess I’m even luckier than he was, so far….

I dodged my first bullet by not having to serve in Vietnam.  I’ve been caught up in the PBS presentation of the Ken Burns Vietnam War series the past couple days.  At this point, I’m nearly halfway through the 18-hour documentary that tells the “true” story of a war that shaped my generation.  I’ve expressed my guilt in not having served my county, as was the case with my family of forefathers (See Posts #93 and #166).   I was able to escape the horrors of this war, enjoy the freedoms of our country, and live the joy the “Great American Dream” of retirement. I’m a lucky man!

I would have never survived in Vietnam.  I’m uncomfortable around guns and not equipped for the great outdoors (see Post #241).  The jungles and swamps of Vietnam would have done me in, long before any bullet.  I expressed these emotions when I visited the newly constructed Vietnam Memorial in Washington DC back in 1986.  I was there for a conference and stopped by to pay my respects late one night.  To find the names of some of my classmates, and to see the volume of casualties carved in granite was overwhelming.  Through the years I’ve purposely avoided reading or discussing the war, just as most other Americans have done.  None of my contemporaries were ever honored for their service, and most never discussed their involvement.  It was America’s dirty secret!  I was particularly struck in the documentary by the story of two very close friends, both Marines in Vietnam,  who never discussed their service in twelve years of knowing each other.  They were so embarrassed, that only their wives discovered the connection in casual conversation.  When you put this in context with how we honor our military representatives today, it’s revolting!  These young men were the heroes of my life,  doing what I never had to do!

With a career in media, I was also disturbed by the misinformation that was reported.  It really wasn’t until Morley Safer of CBS News, did his report in August of 1965 about U.S. soldiers burning villages did we ever get a realistic perspective on the war.  He was nearly fired, and then to even see CBS back-off on their coverage of the hearings initiated by Senator Fulbright in early 1966, showed the influence of President Johnson over the networks.  That would not happen today, and perhaps because Safer was born in Canada allowed him to rise above American prejudice.  As a young man of 15, I was not even aware of what was going on in Southeast Asia at that time.  I remember the “British Invasion” and The Beatles on Ed Sullivan, but hardly ever watched the network news.

Ken Burns is only up to 1967 in the series, so as we approach 1969 and my eligibility for the draft as an 18-year old, I’m sure the documentary will have greater impact.  All I know is that I was lucky.  When a young man, who died on the day after his 19th birthday, is quoted as saying:  “I went back to being an atheist, until the shooting starts,” I can almost feel his pain.  When you see all the death and destruction associated with this war, and you hear the enemy’s perspective, you begin to wonder who was right and who was wrong, and is there really is a God.  I would like to give thanks for being so lucky, but not at the expense of those who weren’t.