September 26, 1970. I didn’t know if I would come home. I was a pilot on my way to Vietnam as a Forward Air Controller, or FAC. I really had no idea what to expect. Without planning to do so, I jotted down a thought as my military charter flight headed west. I continued to record what I saw, heard, felt, and even smelled, as the planned one-year assignment progressed. When completed, the journal notes formed a history of a segment of the Vietnam War, which included Cambodia. There, I directed air strikes by U.S. jet fighters, as they were almost the sole support for the Cambodians, who fought invading North Vietnamese and insurgent communist forces. Guilt from living well and returning unscathed, sadness for friends lost, and anger and frustration at my generation’s sacrifice in a war it wasn’t allowed to win, kept my journal notes unopened for years. Over thirty years later, there is still much history to be told about this remote, limited, unpopular conflict; so this journal is now written. It still hurts.
