'Born in the U.S.A." is a misunderstood protest song about Vietnam War veterans

A young Bruce Springsteen's wrote "Born in the USA" for mistreated Vietnam veterans.

OPINION

With just one song, Bruce Springsteen put a lump in my throat and made me a fan.

The recent release of the dramatic film about iconic rock 'n roller Bruce Springsteen brings to mind the song that made me appreciate the musician and the man behind the music.

It is more poignant today, on Veterans Day, the song serves as a powerful reminder of the struggles many veterans face, particularly regarding their reintegration into society and the support they receive, or may not receive, after their service ends.

Springsteen's song and album "Born in the U.S.A." are iconic, yet widely misunderstood pieces of American music history. The album, released on June 4, 1984, became a global blockbuster, but the title track is a powerful protest song about attitudes towards Asians, the mistreatment of Vietnam War veterans, often mistaken for a simple patriotic anthem.

Springsteen has called it "one of my greatest and most misunderstood pieces of music," intended as a "demand for a 'critical' patriotic voice" rather than an unthinking salute. Over the years, he has performed acoustic versions to emphasize the somber lyrics.

As they often do, conservative patriots just love the beat and sing along with the rousing chorus: "Born in the U.S.A." missing the song's message completely.

In actuality it is a 180-degrees opposite of a patriotic anthem. Read the lyrics below. It is a sarcastic indictment of US involvement in Vietnam, the war that changed America and the divisions that continue to linger and divide today.

The song is an explicitly anti-war protest song, highlighting the disillusionment and economic hardship faced by working-class Vietnam veterans who returned home to a country that offered them little support or welcome.

Springsteen was heavily inspired by Ron Kovic's memoir Born on the Fourth of July and met with Vietnam veterans, which informed several songs on the album. The lyrics describe a veteran unable to find work, visiting a dismissive VA office, and reflecting on the futility of the war, asking "Was it worth it?".

The powerful, fist-pumping chorus of "Born in the U.S.A.!" often leads casual listeners to misinterpret it as a jingoistic celebration of American pride. This confusion was famously leveraged by politicians, including Ronald Reagan's 1984 re-election campaign, which used the song at rallies, prompting Springsteen to speak out about the song's true, critical meaning. The song is still misused by conservative politicians to gin up the patriotic fervor of supporters as they walk onstage.

The lyrics taken by themselves are not profound, but the way the son has been misunderstood and twisted by so many, is a reflection of what so many in this country continue to do: they hear only what they want to hear.

The album and title song "Born In The U.S.A." is the Springsteen album for a certain generation of fans, and something else for those who came before or after. The controversy surrounding the song forced a national conversation that has expanded beyond Vietnam War veterans to include economic inequality, and the true meaning of American patriotism.

In essence, "Born in the U.S.A." became a powerful, albeit often misunderstood, cultural phenomenon that used the immense reach of pop music to inject a potent, critical social commentary into the heart of American political dialogue.

Driving my car, the song comes on the radio.  I can't help myself as my head begins to bob in time with the heavy beat and my hand begins tapping the steering wheel in time with the musicc. The chorus comes on I begin singing, "Bo-o-rn in the USA! ... they put a rifle in my hand / Sent me off to a foreign land / To go and kill the yellow man!" And then, I feel that familiar lump in my throat and tears begin to well up in my eyes.

'Born in the U.S.A.' lyrics

[Verse 1]

Born down in a dead man's town
The first kick I took was when I hit the ground
End up like a dog that's been beat too much
'Til you spend half your life just coverin' up, now

[Chorus]
Born in the U.S.A.​
I was born in the U.S.A.​
I was born in the U.S.A.​
Born in the U.S.A. now

[Verse 2]
Got in a little hometown jam
So .

[Chorus]
Born in the U.S.A.​
I was born in the U.S.A.​
I was born in the U.S.A.​
I was born in the U.S.A.​

[Verse 3]
Come back home to the refinery
Hirin' man says, "Son, if it was up to me"
Went down to see my V.A. man
He said, "Son, don't you understand now?"

[Interlude]
Oh, yeah
No, no
No, no, no

[Verse 4]
I had a brother at Khe Sanh
Fightin' off them Viet Cong
They're still there, he's all gone
He had a woman he loved in Saigon
I got a picture of him in her arms, now

[Verse 5]
Down in the shadow of the penitentiary
Out by the gas fires of the refinery
I'm ten years burnin' down the road
Nowhere to run, ain't got nowhere to go

[Chorus]
Born in the U.S.A.​
I was born in the U.S.A. now
Born in the U.S.A.
I'm a long gone Daddy in the U.S.A. now
Born in the U.S.A.​
Born in the U.S.A.​
Born in the U.S.A.​
I'm a cool rocking Daddy in the U.S.A. now

(Fade away)

Born in the U.S.A.​
Born in the U.S.A.​
Born in the U.S.A.​

EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 

50th Anny of the end of the Vietnam War passed almost unnoticed

EDITOR'S NOTE: I wrote the post below 10 years ago on the occasion of the 40th anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War on April 30, 2025. with a little editing and cleaning up, it still fits the sombre anniversary.

The Vietnam War changed America in so many ways. The realization Americans didn't always wear the white hats -- good guys that we imagine ourselves to be -- as we ride in like the calvary is still many people cannot understand and accept.

The war aalso brought in hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese refugees who have found homes in the United States, raised families and tried their best to integrate themseves into a country so strange to them. We're a better country for their presence, something that too many people still don't understand.

The lies and propaganda that led to US involvement and to wage a war we should not have fought has led us to distrust our government officials, military leaders and so-called "experts." We've learn to question the men and women who we once believed acted in the best interest of the people.

It was wrong for some ant-war protestors to spit on the returning soldiers or call them "baby-killers." I wish that never happened

The anti-government sentiment --vnurtured by then-Presidents Nixon, Johnson and Kennedy --still lingers and divides us.

The 50th anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War doesn't call for celebration. It passed by almost unnoticed in the day's newscasts and front pages. To the young people of today, it might seem like ancient history. Most of the men and womenwho fought in the war in Vietnam and fought against the war in America's streets are senior citizens today, the younger generations' fathers and grandfathers.

We're still struggling to bring our country back together again, fractured fy those who don't like the dark events in the war itself and surrounding the war, or the lessons that we all can learn from that chapter of US history that is still being written.

The Vietnam Memorial rises from the depths as one of it's legs points towards the Washington Monument.

Originally posted in 2015.

I COULDN'T let today, April 30, 2015, go by without mentioning the 40th Anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War.

The Vietnam War Memorial is one of the most emotionally moving monuments in Washington D.C. Designed by Maya Lin, a 21-year old Chinese American student, the memorial design was initially criticized because critics thought it was making a negative political statement. Critics wanted something more heroic and patriotic.

The simplicity of the design belies the emotion welling up inside you as you descend one of the legs of the V-shaped memorial. You read the engraved names as you descend down the path -- one name, two, four, until you get to center of the V. There are so many names the columns of names of the dead are over your head. Then it hits you in the gut. The sheer number of names of those American servicemen who died in that war is overwhelming. Over 58,000 of them. I went to high school with some of them. Some are relatives.

You look up and amidst the engraved names, the polished black granite reflects an image of the visitor. Then you get a second jolt with the realization: All these soldiers, they died for you. A few were my high school classmates. I was related to two others.

No matter what your political beliefs are, you can't help but be moved. It took an effort to hold back the emotions welling up inside me.

Then visitors walk up the slope of the other leg of the V. Thousands of names, hundreds and finally a single name. You have come out of the wedge that divided our country;  away from the black granite with all those names; away from the depths. In the distance you can see the Washington Monument. You can see the horizon again.

I stopped to take a deep breath and to gather up my emotions. The monument is genius. Lin wanted visitors to walk by, take selfie and then return to your tour bus. Her design allows the visitor experience her work and eventually to become part of the monument.

Located discreetly amongst the trees near the memorial was another monument. It was a more traditional statue dedicated to the women who served in that war. In that era, women were not allowed in combat units so most women served in support units, like the combat nurses depicted in the statue. At the base of the statue was a note that took my breath away.

"I can't remember your name but I just wanted to say thanks for saving my life." It was signed, "One of many."

The tears came forth.

EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news and views from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X or at the blog Views From the Edge.

Racial discrimination delayed awarding of Medals of Honor for Vietnam War veterans

US. ARMY

From top left, clockwise: Specialist 5 Dwight W. Birdwell, Specialist 5 Dennis M. Fujii, the late Edward N. Kaneshiro and Major John J. Duffy.

It took a long time coming but Medals of Honor were finally awarded to Vietnam War veterans of Asian American, Pacific Islander and Native American descent.

The medals were awarded by President Biden following a review ordered by Congress into the military service of Asian Americans, Native Americans and Pacific Islanders who may have been overlooked because of racial bias in awarding honors.

The highest military honor was bestowed on Staff Sergeant Edward N. Kaneshiro (posthumous), Specialist Five Dwight W. Birdwell, Specialist Five Dennis M. Fujii, and retired Major John J. Duffy. upgrading previous honors they had already received.

“They stood in the way of danger, risked everything … to defend our nation and our values,”  Biden said at the start of the White House ceremony. “However, not every service member has received the full recognition they deserve. Today we’re setting the record straight. We’re upgrading the awards of four soldiers who performed acts of incredible heroism during the Vietnam conflict”.

“Honestly, it’s been a long journey to this day for those heroes and their families,”  Biden said. “And more than 50 years have passed — 50 years — since the jungles of Vietnam where as young men these soldiers first proved their mettle.”

“But,” he added, “time has not diminished their astonishing bravery, their selflessness in putting the lives of others ahead of their own and the gratitude that we as a nation owe them.”

Birdwell, Fujii and Duffy were at the White House to receivet their medals. John Kaneshiro accepted on behalf of his father, Edward Kaneshiro, who died from his wounds suffered in combat.

Kaneshiro

Staff Sergeant Kaneshiro received the Medal of Honor posthumously for acts of gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty while serving as an infantry squad leader with Troop C, 1st Squadron, 9th Cavalry, 1st Cavalry Division, near Phu Huu 2, Kim Son Valley, Republic of Vietnam, on Dec. 1, 1966. 

Kaneshiro and his team entered the village of Phu Huu 2 while on a search and destroy mission and were attacked by North Vietnamese. Kaneshiro destroyed one enemy group with rifle fire and two others with grenades, which enabled the orderly extrication and reorganization of the platoon and ultimately led to a successful withdrawal from the village. He served in Vietnam between July 18, 1966, until his death on March 6, 1967, as a result of a hostile gunshot wound.

Fujii

Specialist Five Fujii received the Medal of Honor for acts of gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty while serving as crew chief aboard a helicopter ambulance during rescue operations in Laos and the Republic of Vietnam from February 18 – 22, 1971. 

During a mission to evacuate seriously wounded Vietnamese military personnel, Specialist Five Fujii’s medevac helicopter took on enemy fire and was forced to crash land. Although injured, he waved off a rescue from another helicopter and remained behind as the only American on the battlefield. During that night and the next day, although wounded, he administered first aid to allied casualties. 

On the night of February 19, he called in American helicopter gunships to assist in repelling an enemy attack. For more than 17 hours, he repeatedly exposed himself to hostile fire as he left the security of his entrenchment to better observe enemy troop positions and to direct air strikes against them until an American helicopter could attempt to airlift him from the area. Upon completion of his tour, he joined the Army Reserve and today resides in Hawaii.

Birdwell

Specialist Five Birdwell received the Medal of Honor for acts of gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty while serving with Troop C, 3rd Squadron, 4th Cavalry, 25th Infantry Division, in the Republic of Vietnam on January 31, 1968. That day, a large enemy element initiated an assault on the Tan Son Nhut Airbase near Saigon. They disabled or destroyed many of the unit’s vehicles and incapacitated Birdwell’s tank commander. 

Under heavy enemy small-arms fire, Birdwell moved the tank commander to safety and fired the tank’s weapons at the enemy force. Afterwards, he dismounted and continued fighting until receiving enemy fire to his face and torso. 

He refused evacuation and led a small group of defenders to disrupt the enemy assault until reinforcements arrived. He then aided in evacuating the wounded until he was ordered to seek attention for his own wounds. He was honorably discharged on December 29, 1968, and today practices law in Oklahoma City.

Duffy

Major Duffy was serving as the senior advisor to the 11th Airborne Battalion, 2nd Brigade, Airborne Division, Army of the Republic of Vietnam, from April 14 – 15, 1972. 

Two days earlier, the commander of the 11th Airborne Battalion had been killed, the battalion command post destroyed, and Major Duffy was twice wounded. He refused to be evacuated. In the morning hours of April 14, after a failed effort to establish a landing zone for resupply aircraft, he moved close to enemy anti-aircraft positions to call in airstrikes and was wounded again, but still refused evacuation. In the late afternoon, the enemy began a ground assault from all sides, and Duffy moved from position to position to adjust fire, spot targets for artillery and direct gunship fire. In the early morning of April 15, after an enemy ambush, he led evacuees, many of whom were seriously wounded, to an evacuation area, where he directed gunship fire on enemy positions and marked a landing zone for the helicopters. 

Only after ensuring all evacuees were aboard, did he board as well, assisting a wounded friendly foreign soldier and administering aid to a wounded helicopter door gunner. Duffy’s service included three tours in Vietnam in a myriad of Special Forces assignments. He retired from the Army on May 31, 1977, and currently lives in Santa Cruz, California.

The upgraded awards were possible because Congress had ordered a review of cases in which “Asian-Americans, Native Americans and Pacific Islanders” had been awarded the Distinguished Service Cross during the Korean and Vietnam wars, “to make sure we properly honor the contributions of Asian Americans Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders and their service they've made over the years,” said the President.

Biden recalled that a similar effort had resulted in the Medal of Honor being awarded to 22 Asian American, Native American and Pacific Islander veterans of the Second World War, including his friend, the late Senator Daniel Inouye of Hawaii.

EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news and views from an AANHPI perspective, follow @DioknoEd on Twitter.

Woman known as the 'Napalm Girl' awarded peace prize

Photographer Nick Ut and the photo of 9-year old Kim Phuc.

It was the photo that might have turned Americans against the Vietnam War. In the center was a little girl running away from the napalm bombs dropped from U.S. jets. She is naked, her clothes had burned off of her, her face in pain, bawling.

Kim Phuc, the l9-year old girl who became known as the “Napalm Girl” is now a 55-year old Asian Canadian is receiving a 10,000 euro ($11,302) award in Germany for her work for speaking out publicly against violence and hatred.

Organizers of the Dresden Prize say Phuc, is being honored for her support of UNESCO and children wounded in war, and fheir work for peace..Past recipients of the prize include former Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev and American civil rights activist Tommie Smith.

Phuc was nine when a South Vietnamese plane dropped napalm bombs on her village, believing it harbored enemy North Vietnamese troops.

The iconic 1972 photograph captured by Associated Press photographer Nick Ut, won a Pulitzer Prize in 1973.

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MSNBC documentary spotlight's 'Dragon Lady' Anna Chennault' & Nixon's 'Betrayal'

WHITE HOUSE FILE

Anna Chennault hobnobbed with the rich and powerful.

IF NOT FOR an Asian American businesswoman, dubbed by some as the Steel Butterfly or the Dragon Lady, Richard Nixon would never have become president -- and hundreds of thousands of lives, including the lives of 20,000 American soldiers -- would have been spared.

The role of Anna Chennault, widow of a WWII hero, in Nixon's 1968 campaign has almost been forgotten, thanks to President Lyndon Johnson's deep patriotism of putting country over partisanship, according to a recent television special Betrayal: The Plot That Won the White House, hosted by MSNBC's Rachel Maddow.

Maddow painted Chennault as a behind the scenes political wheeler-dealer and noted Washington socialite, who used her sex appeal and government connections to become the key figure in scuttling the peace talks between North and South Vietnam, thus continuing the Vietnam War for another six years.

Chennault, also known as Chen Xiangmei who came from a wealthy Chinese family, in 1947 married American war hero Gen. Claire Chennault, the dynamic and charismatic leader of the Flying Tigers, famous for its raids against the Japanese in Southeast Asia and China wuring WWII.

After the death of Gen. Chennault, she settled in Washington, D.C., where she became prominent among elite social circles, hosting lavish parties in her Watergate penthouse attended by “cabinet members, congressmen, diplomats, foreign dignitaries and journalists.” She was named vice president of the Flying Tigers, an air cargo company rumored to have dies with the CIA.

Long-time readers of Views From the Edge, have known about Chennault's infamous role from a two-part posting way back in 2014: Part 1: Nixon was worst that I thought and Part 2: Nixon - The Traitor.

Nixon knew that if Johnson was able to broker peace, the Democrat nominee Hubert Humphrey would win the election. After losing the Presidency twice in 1960 and 1964, Nixon was determined to win this time and he would do anything to win the White House.

That was when he decided to use his nuclear option: Anna Chennault. He asked Chennault's widow, who headed anan airline, to use her contacts in the South  Vietnam government. The message she delivered was, don't take part in the peae talks and when Nixon wins, he would give South Vietnam more favorable terms.

But it was not until this year, 50 years after Nixon's 1968 campaign, that Johnson's personal notes on his conversations with Nixon and his knowledge of Chennault's role  have become public. Johnson's handwritten notes have been locked away in President Johnson's Library. On the file was a note not to open for 50 years.

Hoping to fend off Nixon's interference in the peace process, Johnson talked to Sen. Everett Dirksen, who led the Republicans and described what Chennault had done under orders of Nixon. "It's treason," said Johnson.

Johnson knew of Nixon's and Chennault's role in sabotaging the peace talks and threatened Nixon that he would go to the press with his knowledge days before the election. 

On Meet The Press, Nixon denied the rumors of his interference -- an out-and-out lie.

Upon the advice of his close associates and his own belief that if he went public with the subterfuge, it would send the country into a downward spiral it might not be able to recover from. For the sake of the overall well-being of the country, Johnson chose to not reveal what he knew. A few days later, Nixon was elected president

A few years later in in the midst of Nixon's re-election campaign, the Nixon's win-at-any-cost outlook resulted in the Watergate scandal and ultimately, his resignation. The Presidency was toppled off its pedestal and ever since then, government has never regained the respect and trust of the people.

Betrayal: The Plot that Won the White House special is available online here.

EDITOR'S NOTE: U[dated Nov. 25 to clarify that Chennault was born in China.
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Anna Chennault: Key figure in Nixon's election dies

Anna Chennault, center, with former President Richard Nixon and Secretary of State Henry Kissinger.

IN SOME INNER CIRCLES in Washington D.C., Anna Chennault was known the Dragon Lady. She passed away last Friday but her daughter announced her death on Tuesday (April 4). She was 94.

Chennault was born Chen Xiangmei in Beijing on June 23, 1923, one of six daughters of P. Y. and Isabelle Liao Chen, members of a prosperous family of diplomats and scholars.

Chennault was one of the most visible private citizens in Washington: a vice president of the Flying Tiger Line, her husband’s postwar cargo operation; a writer of novels, poetry and nonfiction books; a Voice of America broadcaster; and the center of a social whirl at her Watergate penthouse that drew in cabinet members, congressmen, diplomats, foreign dignitaries and journalists, according to the BBC.

But it is her secret role that had the most impact on U.S. policy. She was an advocate for the Chinese Nationalists and South Vietnam, and a staunch anti-communist.

RELATED: Nixon, the traitor

She was known to have been a conduit for Nationalist Chinese funds for the Republican Party, and to have been a secret go-between for American officials and Asian leaders like Chiang Kai-shek, the Nationalist Chinese generalissimo, and President Nguyen Van Thieu of South Vietnam.

In the days before the 1968 presidential elections, it looked like the South Vietnam was willing to accept peace negotiations that would end the Vietnam War. If a peace treaty in Paris was signed, it would give a decided advantage to Democratic candidate Vice President Hubert Humphrey.

Chennault, acting as a behind-the-scenes liaison for Nixon’s campaign and the Saigon government, was recorded by FBI wiretaps urging South Vietnamese officials to boycott the Paris peace talks, saying they would get a better deal from a Nixon administration if they waited until after the election.

That same day, Nov. 2, South Vietnam's President Thieu announced that his government would not join the Paris talks. Three days later, Nixon was elected and the war was prolonged for two more years at the cost of thousands of Vietnamese and American lives.

Ironically, Chennault died in her apartment in the Watergate Apartment complex, the same locale that became synonymous for the "dirty tricks" that led to the resignation of Nixon.

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Ken Burns' Vietnam War documentary gets mixed reactions from veterans and Vietnamese Americans

PBS

A Vietnamese woman watches a column of American soldiers.

Compiled from the Los Angeles Times, Orlando Sentinel, San Jose Mercury News

WATCHING Ken Burns' 10-episode, 18-hour documentary on PBS made Tien Nguyen cry.

“This raised even more questions than it answered,” Nguyen, 51, told the Los Angeles Times.

I thought I knew a lot about the war that divided America. The lies used to justify the war and loss of so many lives - American and Vietnamese - and the inability of the Vietnamese and American politicians  to say we were wrong makes the war a sad tragic chapter in American and Vietnamese history.

U.S. veterans of the Vietnam War and the Vietnamese who fled Vietnam when the communists took power had mixed reactions to PBS' documentary on the war that some have called a masterpiece and others call a lie.

“The Vietnam War included the Americans, South Vietnam and North Vietnam. But in the 18 hours, the role of South Vietnam was very small,” said Sutton Vo, 80. who spent time in a communist re-education camp after the war.

“Any documentary should be fair and should tell the truth to the people,” said the former South Vietnamese Army major.

The film is “pure propaganda,” he told the San Jose Mercury News.

Vi Ma told the Orlando Sentinel that it’s important to keep memories of the war alive.

“We’re all right now trying to teach the younger generation about the history of Vietnam,” said Ma, 50, whose father served in the South Vietnamese army. “We need to keep reminding and teaching every single generation in the future. And we all believe we should keep reminding the world about it.”

“I grew up knowing about the war in the same way that most Americans grew up learning about the war, which was through movies or books,” said Beth Nguyen, an author and a graduate professor at the University of San Francisco. “Mostly every movie is done by a white man. And this documentary is sort of the same perspective.”

“America was divided by the war,” Nguyen told the Mercury News . “American pain and suffering is something I feel is important to discuss and think about, but it should not come at the expense of Vietnamese pain and suffering, which is what usually happens.”

RELATED: The Vietnam War returns to our living rooms

Vincent Okamoto, who became a judge in California
recalls his experience as a platoon leader in Vietnam.

Vincent Okamoto, who was born in one of the internment camps for Japanese Americans during WWII, was a lieutenant leading a platoon in Vietnam, where he earned the Army’s second-highest honor, the Distinguished Service Cross.

“Nineteen-, 20-year-old high school dropouts … they looked upon military service as like the weather: you had to go in, and you’d do it," he told the Los Angeles Times. "Patience, their loyalty to each other, their courage under fire. … You would ask yourself, ‘How does America produce young men like this?'”

Nguyen Ngoc, an 85-year-old scholar and veteran of the North Vietnamese army, watched the documentary in its entirety.

“I used to ask myself: ‘How come the United States after 40 years still can’t get over the Vietnam War?’ I considered it a weakness of the United States,” he said. “Actually now, having seen this film, I believe that the way in which the United States hasn’t ever really been able to leave the Vietnam War behind is actually a great strength. It’s is a nation that’s always asking itself about its own history, questioning its past and asking questions about what it’s done and why it did it. I really hope that we Vietnamese can make a film like this and that we can starting asking ourselves those same kinds of very difficult questions.”

It's painful to watch as I think of my friends and classmates who never came back and the lives that could have been. 

It fills me with remorse when I think the way most soldiers were received by the American public when they came back. They didn't need to be hailed as heroes, but at the very least, neither should they be cast as villains. 

Watching the documentary may be gut wrenching and make you extremely uncomfortable as it makes you question your own values, but, nevertheless, the documentary is something we all should view. Whether you were in the jungle fighting for your buddies and  trying to survive, or in the streets of our nation questioning the morality of the conflict or protesting the draft, or, It is the least we can do.

The questions about Vietnam might not have all been answered by the documentary. In fact, the questions the film raises should make us all pause whenever our country's leaders - most of whom have never served in the military - send America's young men and women into hell. War ain't no reality show.

* * *

EDITOR'S NOTE: All the PBS stations airing the documentary have followed up online with responses from viewers, veterans of all factions in the war, anti-war activists and the filmmakers. For the San Francisco Bay Area, you can link to KQED here. The series can be watched online at http://video.kqed.org/show/vietnam-war/

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Vietnam War returns to our living rooms this Sunday

Forty-two years after the Vietnam War ended, it is still difficult to talk about the conflict that set the groundwork for the divided America we live in today.

Perhaps Ken Burn's 18-hour, 10 episode documentary about the war that defined a generation and a country will help us start the conversations we still need to have.

"The Vietnam War was a decade of agony that took the lives of more than 38,000 Americans," Burns said. "Not since the Civil War have we as a country been so torn apart. There wasn't an American alive then who wasn't affected in some way -- from those who fought and sacrificed in the war, to families of service members and POWs, to those who protested the war in open conflict with their government and fellow citizens."

As an Asian American, the war added an additional layer to the difficulties I was already struggling with as a person of color who grew up in a society dominated by the  European American perspective of the world. Vietnam forced me to question everything I was taught to honor and revere.

Vietnam was the first war to be televised. Every night, we saw the horrors and terror of war. No doubt, the next two weeks we'll see and hear the war again in our living rooms and stir up a lot of memories.

1966: After I received my acceptance letter to UC Berkeley I faced the decision of whether or not to join ROTC. I'm an Army brat and I didn't have the animosity towards the military as some of my contemporaries.

I lived 30 miles from the campus but it was really a world away. Anti-war protests were taking the place of the Free Speech Movement. Vietnam was forever lingering in the background of my consciousness, hearing snippets of TV news reports and articles about a war that seemed far and away.

The application to Army ROTC on campus woke me up. It was one of those moment-of-truth moments. I wandered into my parents' bedroom and plopped down on the bed with a deep sigh, an act so out of sync for me that it got my father's attention, who was doing the bills at his desk.

"I don't know," I said, about joining Army ROTC. "I don't know if I can lead men into battle ... where men can die. I don't know if I can order men into their death."

My father was not a talkative man. He very rarely talked about his own service in the Battle of Bataan during World War II where he was among the thousands who became POWs and took part the Death March; and he never told me about his service in the front lines of the Korean War except that he saw Bob Hope perform in a USO tour.

He was taken aback, because we rarely had these father-son moments. He paused as he thought about what to say. He stared off into the distance, into a memory that he never talked about, and said. "You get used to it," and "You just do it."

That was it. No tremendous insight. No words of wisdom. He closed, "You can do it."

"I just don't know," I said as I struggled to express my own doubts about serving in the Army and most likely going to fight in the steamy jungles and rice paddies of Vietnam.

* * *

1967, Summer of Love: While my peers were going to "love-ins" and concerts in the San Francisco Bay Area, which at the time was the center of the hippie counter culture and the breeding ground for the growing anti-war movement, I was sweating in hot, sticky Fort Benning, Georgia, carrying around 50 -lb backpacks, carrying around 9-lb. M14s and learning to become an officer and a gentleman.

Vietnam hung over the young people like a 100-lb. blanket meant to block out the sun. It was suffocating and ever-present.

Many of us Baby Boomers did anything to avoid getting drafted: Some got married to make use of the marriage deferment. Some move to Canada where they were welcomed with open arms. Others sought medical deferments like Donald Trump's alleged case of bone spurs in his feet. Others became perpetual college students. Some joined the Coast Guard thinking they would at least stay near the U.S. coastline (They were wrong.). Some joined the National Guard or Reserves to avoid going overseas.

And there were those of us who joined ROTC. For me, the monetary compensation offered by ROTC made college life affordable, paying for those unplanned expenses like late night runs to Top Dog, Thursday night at a local pizza joint to kick off the weekend, those spontaneous parties to let off steam, and late night penny-ante poker games.

ROTC also allowed me to avoid the draft. Most draftees became infantry and were more than likely assigned to Vietnam. It was like a death sentence. 

One particular exercise stuck in my mind - bayonet practice. The instructor was talking to a company of college students not used to being yelled at. "The spirit of the bayonet is - to kill," said the non-commissioned officer giving the instruction. "What is the spirit of the bayonet?" he'd ask.

"To kill, to kill," we were compelled to yell back.

"I can't hear you," he'd bark. "What is the spirit of the bayonet?"

We yelled back louder, "To kill, to kill."

It was my turn. As I charged the practice dummy made of straw, I noticed on its face, someone painted the slanted eyes often characterizing Asian/American. The face of the enemy looked like me.

1968: What a terrible year for America.

Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King were assassinated, killing the hopes and dreams of a generation and in the void flooded in cynicism and distrust of our institutions.

President Lyndon Johnson, who signed the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act into law, "for the sake of the country," decided not to run for a second term. Richard Nixon, with his "secret plan" to get us out of Vietnam was elected President.

The year started with the Tet Offensive when the North Vietnam Army attacked South Vietnamese and American installations simultaneously. Even though the NVA was defeated at every confrontation, it was a shock to the U.S. military and the American public. After being told for months that we now could see the light at the end of tunnel. U.S. leaders and the American public couldn't understand why these little, brown men did not roll over and bow down to the superior American forces.

The anti-war movement, driven by the draft, was growing. Demonstrations were getting larger, noisier, more violent. The burning of draft cards was becoming more common. National Guard troops and tear gas also became part of the campus environment.

Word spread that on campus Jerry Mathers, the actor who portrayed Beaver Cleaver in the iconic Leave It to Beaver that took place in the 1950s, was a student at Cal. I didn't think of it at the time, but there was some fitting symbolism in that. The times they were a-changing.

It was also the summer that I attended my second ROTC camp in Fort Lewis, Washington where I met other Filipino American cadets, a good number of them from Hawaii.
On the rare day when we had time to ourselves, one of the cadets asked our platoon sergeant to listen to a song. It was Country Joe and the Fish singing "Feel Like I'm Fixing to Die Rag," you know, the one that starts with the spelling of the F-word.

The NCO, probably in his mid-30s, listened to the lyrics ...

And it's one, two, three, 

What are we fighting for? 

Don't ask me, I don't give a damn, 

Next stop is Vietnam

The sergeant, smiled. He liked it, he said. "Whoopee, we're all going to die."

* * * 

December 1, 1969: I was on campus, walking back to the dorms. I remember it was night and the brisk air was refreshing after a long day, capped with a karate class at the campus gym. I was rushing back hoping to catch some dinner in the dorm cafeteria before it closes.

Earlier in the year, in order to make the draft more fair, it was decided to have a lottery for the draft.

RELATED: The end of the Vietnam War 40 years ago

A lottery drawing - the first since 1942 - was held on December 1, 1969, at Selective Service National Headquarters in Washington, D.C. This event determined the order of call for induction during calendar year 1970; that is, for registrants born between January 1, 1944, and December 31, 1950.

Reinstitution of the lottery was a change from the "draft the oldest man first" method, which had been the determining method for deciding order of call. The draft was also racist. Those who couldn't afford college, formed the largest pool of draftees. That meant the poor. In most cases, that meant those young men of color, mainly black, filled the ranks of draftees.

There were 366 blue plastic capsules containing birth dates placed in a large glass container and drawn by hand to assign order-of-call numbers to all men within the 18-26 age range specified in Selective Service law.

With radio, film, and TV coverage, the capsules were drawn from the container, opened, and the dates inside posted in order. The first capsule - drawn by Congressman Alexander Pirnie (R-NY) of the House Armed Services Committee - contained the date September 14, so all men born on September 14 in any year between 1944 and 1950 were assigned lottery number 1. The drawing continued until all days of the year had been paired with sequence numbers.

As I walked back, past the Greek houses, dorms and off-campus apartments, I'd hear a  yell, "Oh, shit!" A few minutes later, a wailing "Oh, no-o-o-o!" So it went as each date was announced. Curses and cries broke the silence of the night.

* * *

1970-1971: I was commissioned as a 2^nd Lt. in 1969 but I still had a couple of years to go to get my degree. Without my ROTC classes, my hair grew to a more fashionable length. I longed to blend in to the Berkeley campus.

Kent State happened that Spring. National Guard members shot and killed four anti-war protestors.

“On Strike, Shut it Down,” was the rallying cry of Cal students. Formal classes came to halt although some professors continued to teach off-campus. I published a newsletter for my college of all the teach-ins and anti-war activities taking place. This was before laptop computers and I used a lot of white-out for all my typing mistakes.

National Guardsmen and the Blue Meanies made their annual visit to the campus. Tear gas seemed to waft down from the trees lining Sproul Plaza where rallies and speeches were held. The Guardsmen were our age. One of my high school classmates who joined the Guard to avoid the draft couldn’t take the emotional toll so he was pulled off the front lines.

The following year, I took part in my first anti-war march walking down Geary Street in San Francisco to Golden Gate Park. Newspapers said there were over 150,000 of us stretching as far as you the eye can see -- from one San Francisco hilltop to the next.

* * *

1975: My ROTC commitment was completed and I was lucky. I never had to go to Vietnam. The war was winding down and the Army didn't need all those extra officers anymore. El Paso, Texas was as far as I got (but, that's another story).

I went to San Francisco's Japantown to watch Hearts and Minds, an Academy Award winning documentary about the Vietnam War directed by Peter Davis. 

The film's title is based on a quote from President Lyndon B. Johnson: "the ultimate victory will depend on the hearts and minds of the people who actually live out there". The movie was chosen as Best Feature Documentary at the 47th Academy Awards presented in 1975.

It presented the war from the perspective of the people who took part in the war, from both sides.

There were a lot of Asian/Americans in the audience. To them/us the war had become personal. 

The concluding interview features U.S. Vietnam veteran Randy Floyd, stating "We've all tried very hard to escape what we have learned in Vietnam. I think Americans have worked extremely hard not to see the criminality that their officials and their policy makers exhibited."

When the film ended and the credits rolled, more than a few people were crying - not sniffling - deep guttural sobbing, as if a close family member had just died.

* * *

ED DIOKNO

There's a souvenir shop in the former
Hanoi Hilton that housed POWs.

2012 in Vietnam: A tour of Vietnam from Hanoi to the Mekong Delta has its ups and downs. Reminders of the war are all around us. Here's the Hanoi Hilton, there's a torture device. Here's a favorite park, there's a bomb crater. Here's where Ho Chi Minh stayed during the war. There's a reinforced shelter from the American bombs. Here's where the Americans had their biggest base. There is where the Vietnamese had a huge tunnel system right under the Americans' noses.

Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam's George Washington, was so enamored with the U.S. that the preamble of Vietnam's Constitution is word-for-word, the same as the preamble to the American Constitution. 

In the 1950s, he approached the United States first for help in fighting the French. When the U.S. turned him down, he went to the Chinese for assistance.

Today's Vietnamese don't hate Americans and welcome back the former soldiers who fought in their country. "We know that the (American) soldiers didn't want to be here," said one Vietnamese vet that we met. 

The Vietnamese - from the veterans to the young children - had a certain pride that their small country, without an air force or navy, was able to fight to a draw the greatest military machine the world had ever known. They never flaunted that with the American tour group. 

It made some in our group uncomfortable. It was, nevertheless, a fact. It was part of their history. In an apparent attempt to soften the blow to our wounded egos, the guide said, "That was then. Now is now"

 * * *

Today: U.S. involvement in Vietnam lasted 20 years: 1955 to 1975, and according to Burns, the U.S. had secretly been aiding the French before that. It took Ken Burns 10 years to produce this series that starts this Sunday, Sept. 17, through Thursday, Sept. 21. Then we get a few days to catch our breath. The final five episodes air nightly from Sunday, Sept. 24 through Thursday, Sept. 28. All showings will be at 8 p.m.

To the Millennials and the generation following them, this may all be ancient history, but the war has had long-lasting effect on the U.S. and might explain why we are still debating the future direction of our country.

As the war dragged on and the casualties rose, the reasons we were in Vietnam became  more blurred. Fighting the communists was not good enough for the American public anymore and the moral conflict was gaining more importance.

The Vietnam War drew into question the American identity: Americans don't slaughter civilian villagers as was done in My Lai; Americans don't  napalm little girls as was done to Kim Phuc and documented by photographer Nick Ut; Americans don't ally themselves with people who execute people by shooting suspect  Nguyen Van Lem in the head in the middle of a Saigon street.

We're supposed to be the good guys and good guys don't do that. But we did.

Those images exploded into U.S. living rooms and seared into our collective consciousness. The Vietnam War was the first war in which the United States wasn't clearly wearing the white hats and a lot of people couldn't accept that. 

The war ripped this country apart. President Lyndon Johnson decided not to run for president again opening the door for Richard Nixon, which, in turn led to Watergate and the further erosion of faith in our government.

I imagine that people in Middle America, far from the left-leaning Bay Area and the colleges on the East Coast, it might have looked like the country was on the verge of revolution.  Their political views were formed during this period and many of them saw that period of turmoil as the beginning of the end of the America they knew. Donald Trump, some say, is their answer to preserving the America they grew up in the 1950s.

"And it’s just the sense that we live in this extraordinarily polarized and divisive moment, and we don’t seem to be able to talk," said co-director Lynn Novick in an interview with PBS's Hari Sreenivasan. "We don’t seem to be able to listen. We don’t seem to be able to agree about basic facts. And yet so much of that really started escalating during the Vietnam War.

"The resonances of where we are in the world and who we are in the world, especially — we have been in several wars that are not unlike the Vietnam War for the last 15 years."

"More than 40 years after it ended," said Burns, "we can't forget Vietnam, and we are still arguing about why it went wrong, who was to blame and whether it was all worth it."

EDITOR'S NOTE: Sept. 19, 2017 - This post was edited for clarification purposes.

One of the hundreds of stills used in the PBS documentary that airs Sunday.

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