Many words have been written about this country’s military involvement in Vietnam, thousands of miles from the United States. Jamie Boss’s new book is a personal memoir of war during the years 1968 and 1969, twelve months of life taken away from him by the Army. Jamie was 19 when he was drafted and reported for duty. His future assignment out of boot camp would be to report to Vietnam as a wheeled/track mechanic. He was married, and he would become a father while in Vietnam, coming home to meet a son he had not yet held.

Coming of Age in Vietnam begins in April, 1968 when Jamie lands in Ton Son Nhat Airport. He admits, “Vietnam was a mystery to me,” and questioned his reason for being there: “Why would our country ask us to risk death for reasons so casually explained to us?”
Hard questions to deal with at the age of 19, especially since there were no answers. “I never had a discussion with my peers about winning,” he writes. One thing he did know — he didn’t want to be the new guy in camp. That title came with a guaranteed bad work detail. Everyone there prior to your arrival had suffered through the new guy detail.

Jamie’s initial reaction to the jungle as he had flown over it was noting the vibrant and different shades of green. “The people were small…their homes squalid.” On his ride to camp he saw small huts with no running water or electricity and rice fields everywhere.
At camp, he heard his orders: “Specialist Boss First Division, The Big Red One.” That division was headquartered in Lai Khe, near Ben Cat, “a place one should avoid if at all humanly possible.” Lia Khe was known as “danger forward”, meaning very close to “the action”.

Jamie felt lucky not to be one of the soldiers “slogging through the jungle daily.” No matter the assignment, army life is adapting to any and all conditions. The routine can be boring but being a mechanic kept Jamie busy. His preference was taking apart and fixing track vehicles that had broken down, damaged by enemy fire, or waiting for the supply department to provide an engine or other necessary items to repair it. Life, at times, was hectic. “Whenever a tank, personnel carrier, self-propelled gun, or howitzer broke down in the field, we would have to grab a toolbox, hop in a jeep or helicopter and make our way into the field for the repair.” Obstacles varied – there were land mines, mortar rounds, booby traps, rocket fire, and the ever present enemy sniper. Jamie’s personal mission every day was to live to see another one, and complete his twelve months in one piece, and alive. Dying was something you thought about every day, Jamie wrote. Though the war had no real boundaries, one learned to be vigilant and aware of surroundings at all times. Soldiers on duty with you became your friends, companions and brothers in arms.

Jamie’s book includes lighter moments. He had told his Dad that if he wanted to send him something, he’d love his twelve string guitar shipped to him. Months passed and two Military Police “showed up and asked if I was Specialist Boss.” After confirming his identity, he was taken to Battalion headquarters where a Sargent Major asked him about a large box in the room addressed to him. “What the hell is this, Boss?” Plywood, in the unmistakable shape of a coffin. The Sargent Major handed him a hammer and a crowbar, the MPs had their hands on their pistols, and with the directive, “Open it,” it revealed: “a nicely packed guitar case.”

Jamie writes of the time a member of his team “grabbed a small, bright green snake by the head.” He asked a Vietnamese woman what kind of snake it was, and she calmly replied, “No sweat, G. I. They bite, you die.” It was a bamboo viper, a very venomous snake native to Vietnam. He writes of encounters with mosquitoes, which swarmed while one just had to endure them without giving away your location, knowing “You could contract Malaria, Dengue Fever, and Japanese Encephalitis from a single mosquito bite.” He writes of the tokay gecko. “It was as large as lizards go and it’s mating call sounded, from a distance, like two distinct words: F*** Yooooouuuu.” Soldiers refer to them as the “F*** You lizards.” A fire fight at night once woke him, “the night sky was lit up like a Christmas tree. Our tracers were red and their tracers green.”

One word to cover many experiences: craziness, which took the edge off the stress of combat and loneliness. “Crazy is a tonic that soothes the wrenched nerves and justifies the unjustifiable,” he writes. “Being crazy allowed all of us to go about our daily routine and ignore the meaningless, brutal war.”

The end of the book finds Jamie waiting for his flight home, with the airport under attack. Eventually the attack subsided and he was allowed to board the plane taking him home—to his wife, new son, family and friends. His return to the states would have him based in California as an army instructor. His future was now out of jeopardy and harm’s way, but he dealt with all the memories of the time he had spent in South Vietnam, and the indifference encountered here. “Indifference would become a way of life when I returned to my hometown. No one would ask about my year. Everyone wanted to ignore my reality. It was as if my time there meant nothing.”

Coming of Age in Vietnam is a compelling memoir, with powerful words and personal photographs, each of which tell a story on their own. The book is available on Amazon, from the author, and at Fletcher Memorial Library. The author of the book‘s Forward is correct when he states: “You won’t be able to put it down.” I couldn’t.

Juan Arriola