African-American Soldiers in Vietnam Mister

African-American Soldiers in Vietnam

Mister Backlash, Mister Backlash,

Just who do you think I am?

You raise my taxes, freeze my wages,

Send my son to Vietnam..." Langston Hughes ("The Backlash Blues")

War is hell. The cliche still works, years after someone first uttered those words. It always will work whether it is Iraq, Vietnam, or Omaha Beach. But when you're black and fighting a war for a nation that excludes you from the mainstream of its social and political life back home, as it was true for many blacks in Vietnam, it's a double dose of hell. Because, you know that jobs for African-Americans will not offer the same opportunities for advancement when you get home, and schools for your children may not be as modern as schools for white children. All those unpleasant realities notwithstanding, the African-American soldiers in Vietnam fought and died along side their comrades-in-arms of all nationalities, albeit at the end of the day blacks had their part of town and white soldiers had theirs. And blacks died in disproportionate numbers to whites, as the institutional racism that flourished in America was transplanted to the soggy mosquito-ridden landscape of Vietnam.

Professor William M. King of the University of Colorado (Boulder) - a member of the Ethnic Studies Department since 1993 - claims that of the 58 thousand Americans that were killed in Vietnam, "...almost seven thousand of them [were] black Americans." King, the author of numerous books on the black experience adds: "There was no time for racism in the bush," because for the first time, "...black and white had shared the same foxholes, cheek by jowl, and become dependent on each other for survival." The worked well on the front lines, but in the "...rear it was a different story. Blacks had their part of town where whitey wasn't allowed...and white boys had theirs too."

Thesis

There was an enormous amount of tension and turbulence and racial strife in the U.S. In the 1960s. That tension and turbulence carried over to the men of color and to the white troops in the Vietnam war, and this paper will point to the manifestations and ramifications of that tension and turbulence, through first person accounts, oral histories, and the historical record.

It is important to set the stage in terms of the social and economic dynamics in the nation black soldiers were leaving when they were shipped to Vietnam. Indeed, the Civil Rights Movement was going strong in the early 1960s, which according to scholar Willie J. Harrell, Jr., who reviewed Herman Graham's book - the Brothers' Vietnam War: Black Power, Manhood, and the Military Experience (which will be amply reviewed later in this paper) - helped the black GI "force a sense of male prowess, racial identity, and homosociality that they used for survival." Harrell points out that Graham's book was "...deeply attuned to the ways African-American GIs acquired manhood." Moreover, Graham's work allowed that racial conflict was nothing new in the black experience, but it would become "more defined through the evolution of the war, as African-American GIs forged stronger ties to black solidarity." Harrell, continuing to critique and review Graham's book, offers this overview into what he believes was the positive result of the Vietnam experience for black troops:

While African-American warriors of the Vietnam era were the beneficiaries of the sacrifices of their forefathers and the lobbying of the civil rights community, many of the problems that had confounded previous generations of black military men...burdened the Vietnam generation as well. These GIs, however, had greater resources at their disposal. Within the military institution, their numbers and their collective identity...gave them a sense of power."

Graham writes in the journal article that Muhammad Ali's draft resistance greatly contributed to black soldiers' solidarity; Ali chose to create an identity "...at odds with the government's national ideas about freedom and war," Graham continues. That protest by Ali inspired hatred on the part of whites and admiration on the part of black soldiers, and was just one of many high-visibility events back in the States that had an impact on black soldiers in Vietnam.

What was it like for African-American soldiers serving in the jungles of Vietnam? First, it is instructive to review the way the war in Vietnam was fought (from the point-of-view of the United States), and who fought it, including the disproportionate number of black soldiers that served - and died. In their book, Chance and Circumstance: The Draft, the War and the Vietnam Generation, authors Lawrence M. Baskir and William a. Strauss write that most of the draftees who were sent to Vietnam to die were "society's 'losers,'" the type of gents who were always left in the dust when it came to the educational advancements along with economic and social kinds of competition. and, the authors go on, "...the discriminatory social, economic, and racial impact of Vietnam cannot be fairly measured" against the other wars Americans have fought overseas.

Indeed, "racial inequities became a major scandal" in the late 1960s, the authors explain. And on page 8 the authors offer a quote from Army General S.L.A. Marshall, who said "too many" Army battalions are suffering "heavy losses," and those battalions are made up of "50% Negroes, Southwestern Mexicans, Puerto Ricans...but a real cross-section of American youth? Almost never" (Baskir p. 8). A comparison with blacks serving in WWII is appropriate: 12% of all combat troops at the end of WWII were black; by 1965, heavily into the Vietnam War, blacks made up 24% of all Army combat deaths, according to Baskir on page 8.

Poorly educated low income Caucasians and poorly educated low-income African-Americans "...together bore a vastly disproportionate share of the burdens in Vietnam," the authors continue on page 9. And indeed among those who were drafted into the Army during the Vietnam War were included 18-year-olds from numerous cultures and ethnicities.

Another aspect of the draft is alluded to by Nancy Gentile Ford in the Journal of American Ethnic History (Ford, 1998). She writes that "...discrimination kept many blacks out of colleges," and hence, they became raw meat for the draft boards. Part of the reason that Ford claims discrimination is that blacks often scored lower than whites in standardized tests (that were designed by whites for whites, in many cases), and so while many white students could keep 12 units going and hence avoid the draft, for black students they wound up drafted. And then, once in the military, "lower scores for black soldiers" kept many black soldiers out of decent educational opportunities in the service, and in many cases they wound up on the front lines as cannon fodder for the politicians back home that were supporting the war effort.

But why did black young men enlist? On page 125 of their book the authors Baskir and Strauss reflect that "Nearly 40% of young blacks questioned in a 1965 survey game self-advancement as the reason for enlisting." That is about twice the proportion of Caucasians who said "self-advancement" was their primary reason for enlisting. Patrick Moynihan, a member of Richard Nixon's White House staff and author of a controversial report on black families in America, made headlines by declaring that the Vietnam War would be a good thing for young black men. Given that the military was "an utterly masculine world," Moynihan insisted, the "armed forces" (i.e., the war in Vietnam) would be "a dramatic and desperately needed change" from "disorganized and matrifocal family life."

The point made by many journalists during this period was that blacks were fortunate to have a chance to be part of the "...first truly integrated war" that U.S. soldiers had fought in. This fact was heralded by black media members since, as author Christian Appy points out, "For generations black had been struggling for equal participation in all American institutions, the military included." And so ironically, now that the Army was fully integrated, it meant a chance for young men to enlist and get off the mean streets, and move into a far more dangerous realm.

Appy points out an example of young black man named Dwight Williams who lived in Chicago and had become a member of the street gang the "Blackstone Rangers" for five years. After Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated, Williams claims that Chicago Mayor Richard Daley "...decided that he was tired of this gang-banging stuff" and so Daley gave orders to his police officers "to shoot to kill." The police put lights into the dark alleys in Chicago's low income neighborhoods, and indeed began killing suspected gang members on a regular basis, according to Williams' story on page 77 of Appy's book.

So Williams decided that "the best thing to keep me from going to the penitentiary" or to be shot on the street was to join the military. "Marines were dying by the hundreds in Vietnam," Appy explains on page 77, but Williams did not give consideration to the fact that the dangers in Vietnam as a Marine "might be greater than the ones he had faced in Chicago." You figure, Williams explained to the author, you don't like what's happening at home in Chicago, and now in the U.S. Marines "...you finally get a chance to get away." Those were Williams' reasons for joining the military and participating in the Vietnam War as an African-American youth. Indeed Williams saw the military as not just an escape, but as "a form of incarceration" - but the war might offer him "a fuller measure of freedom than the kind of imprisonment that seemed inevitable if he were to stay on the street" (Appy 78).

Another key reason the author discovered in terms of black youth volunteering for duty in Vietnam was for "self-advancement" (as was mentioned earlier in this paper). The National Opinion Research Center (NORC) survey in 1964 found that nearly twice as many blacks as whites offered "self-advancement" as their main reason for signing up for war duty in Vietnam. It was 37% of blacks using that justification, and 21% of Caucasians; and Appy reveals that "for some men," blacks included, the services was "a marked improvement over civilian life" and indeed their first ever experience with "secure housing, steady wages," and the chance to eat "as much as they wanted" every day. Blacks entering the service, particularly during the early stages of the war in Vietnam, were likely to be hopeful that being in the military "...might improve their social standing and provide more racial justice" than they had experienced in civilian life, Appy writes on page 62.

Speaking of the social standings of blacks - in terms of why going to Vietnam and being in the service might have appeal for some - on page 20, Appy quotes Dr. Martin Luther King (giving his speech in April 1967) putting a different spin on that issue. "We are willing to make the Negro 100% of a citizen in warfare," King stated at the Riverside Church in New York City, "but reduce him to 50% of a citizen on American soil." Half of "all Negroes" live in "substandard housing" and the average black person has "half the income of white" Americans, King went on. There is "twice as much unemployment and infant mortality" among the black population, and yet "at the beginning of 1967 twice as many died in action - 20.6% - in proportion to their numbers in the population as a whole," King is quoted as saying on page 20 of Appy's book.

An article in the New York Times (Johnson, 1969) pointed out that while many (including blacks) praised the military's efforts towards equal opportunity - and the re-enlistment rates were at that time "at least twice as high as the rates for whites" - racial discrimination was still part of life for soldiers. Moreover, "...the civilian patterns of discrimination prevail in localities close by the military installations." This article was based on part on racial violence at the Marine Corps' Camp Lejeune, which had flared up between returning black Vietnam veterans and white workers in jobs surrounding the sprawling base.

Times' reporter Johnson quoted the director for civil rights activities in the Department of Defense, Judge L. Howard Bennett, who said there "...is a far greater concern among young black marines for their brothers and sisters in the civilian community who are suffering discrimination." In other words, these black men put their lives on the line for their country in an ugly war America did not seem to be winning. They then return home after their tours of duty to find things haven't changed at all in terms of the social fairness they hoped they might see between the races.

Add to that problem the fact that young black returning soldiers were "...far more vocal in criticizing both the civilian community" and the Marines than had their black predecessors been. The tension at Camp Lejeune was not unexpected, given, Johnson writes, that "...some white officers and sergeants 'retain prejudices and deliberately practice them.'" There were rumors at Camp Lejeune - possibly just paranoid stirred up because of the militant stances taken by Black Panthers and other direct action black protest movements - that "black power" advocates had somehow "infiltrated the base" and were propagandizing young black men in order to have them do battle with white marines, Johnson continued.

To that "infiltration" charge, a black barber on the Lejeune base - Hurtis Coleman - replied to Times' reporter Johnson: "They always cry outside 'agitators' because they don't want to admit that they are prejudiced and mistreating black people." Another quote from Johnson's article was gleaned from a Marine colonel: The black soldier has been "screamed at" with no let-up on Paris Island (part of pre-Vietnam training activities); they were "pushed around and harassed during basic training"; and then there was "13 months in Vietnam, fighting a war, killing and seeing their buddies killed." Suddenly, the quote continues in the Times, here they are - "while they are still teen-agers" - they are combat veterans and "...expected to quickly and easily adjust to the spit and polish routine of Stateside." That "quick and easy" adjustment was too much for many of the returning black soldiers, Johnson's article implies.

But as to the assertions made by some writers and observers earlier in this paper, that the military had been fully integrated by the time the war in Vietnam was fought, Times' writer Johnson wrote another article (Nov. 29, 1070) in which he explained that black soldiers in "lower ranks" - who were becoming more militant and expressing dissidence - believed that blacks were on "the wrong end of a double standard...in terms of job assignments, promotions, and the dispensation of military justice."

To wit, there were only two black generals at the time of the mid-sixties, in the midst of the war in Vietnam; they were Air Force Brig. Gen. Daniel "Chappie" James Jr. And Army Brig. Gen Frederic E. Davidson. They were commissioned in the 1940s but only promoted to generals between 1968 and 1970. Those apparent inequities were noticed by young black soldiers who "grew to maturity during an era of protest and social activism" Johnson writes. These same young black me "grew accustomed to speaking out and acting against discrimination even before entering the military"; further, many of them refused to "allow the regimentation and isolation of the military" to water down their identification "with the black struggle's back home," Johnson wrote in 1970.

The Times article by Johnson featured a graph showing that in November, 1970, that black soldiers represented 10% of American forces in Vietnam, but blacks only had 2.1% of the total officers in Vietnam.

What was life actually like for black soldiers in Vietnam?

Meanwhile life in Vietnam for black soldiers - by the year 1970 - "was especially troublesome," Baskir and Strauss assert on page 138. Unrest among black troops "had begun to hinder the fighting effort," the authors continue. There was reported to be serious fear among some white officers that black soldiers "would turn their guns around..." and, as one soldier had indicated, "shoot at whitey" instead of the enemy, the Viet Cong. Indeed there was an incident in which "two white majors were shot" as they attempted to get some black soldiers to turn the sound down on a tape recorder.

When black soldiers were given a chance to air grievances, the authors report on page 138, the meetings with superiors often broke down into shouting matches. There were "harsh and shortsighted responses" from the protesting black soldiers that only "aggravated the conflict." In order to attempt to control black soldiers in Vietnam, and install discipline, officers and company commanders put a ban on acts that for blacks were symbolic of their cultural identity, the authors explain on page 138. For example, "dapping" (the "brotherhood" handshake between black young men) was outlawed by some officers; as hard as that was to believe for black soldiers (most of them continued shaking hands they way they have been for years), some officers also placed a ban on the "clinched fist salute" (Baskir 138), which Caucasian officers considered a "black power salute"; it reminded some authorities in the military of the salutes and power symbolism of the Black Panther movement back in the U.S.

On the subject of dapping, there is another side to that story, found in James E. Westheider's book Fighting on Two Fronts. Westheider writes on page 89 of his book that these handshakes, while a "meaningful affirmation of cultural solidarity and brotherly love," became a source "of racial friction." By that the author points out that blacks enjoyed dapping in chow lines, and whites in line "objected to being made to wait for their meals" while black soldiers ahead of them "went through lengthy daps."

Captain interviewed by Westheider claims that blacks sometimes "would go into a five or ten-minute dapping period... [and hence] dapping has become a source of considerable friction both between the black serviceman and his white counterparts..." The Marines did not ban dapping altogether, Westheider writes on page 90, although the Navy did and Army commanders in certain areas of Vietnam banned "...all gestures that have been used to express particular ethnic groups' pride, unity, and identification" (Westheider 90).

The racial tension in Vietnam in the early 1970s was very intense and blacks that spoke out against discrimination or disobeyed what they considered racially motivated orders were routinely tossed into the stockade. The evidence was there for all to see; indeed, a study conducted by the congressional Black Caucus revealed that "...half of all soldiers in confinement were black" (Baskir 138). According to a study conducted by the NAACP that same year, blacks serving the U.S. Armed Forces in Europe were also being thrown into the stockade for alleged violations of rules designed to punish them for culturally-based acts of assumed defiance or disobedience to regulations.

Another survey carried out b y the NAACP reflected the fact that "...a white first offender was twice as likely to be released without punishment" as a black first offender was. And in Camp Casey, a U.S. military base in Korea, where black soldiers comprised just 17% of all troops, over 62% of all prisoners held for insubordination of violations of rules set down by company commanders were black. Breaking those numbers down further, the NCAAP research reported that 45% of "less-than-honorable" discharges in the military were handed to black soldiers in Korea, and 83% of all general courts martial as well.

In Vietnam, blacks received "a disproportionate share of the less-than-Honorable discharges," the authors point out on page 139; this fact came back to haunt young black men returning from Vietnam as the federal Equal Opportunity Commission began requiring job applicants to hold an "Honorable Discharge" in 1973. The authors believe this bureaucratic federal stipulation was of itself a policy of racial discrimination. On page 231, the authors of this book mention President Jimmy Carter's "blanket pardon" which offered total amnesty to men who resisted the draft. That move was met with anger by some conservatives, which Carter had expected; but it also seemed to some "class bias" on the part of Carter. That criticism came because forgiving draft resisters but not forgiving the "disproportionately black, low-income, and poorly educated military offenders" seemed unfair.

Oral histories of the Vietnam War from the black perspective.

In the journal, African-American Review, author Jeff Loeb explains that there are two few books written by blacks who served in Vietnam. Of the six hundred or so novels written about the Vietnam experience, "...Only six were written by blacks," Loeb claims. And as to the 400 or so "self-generated memoirs...only seven were from blacks." Two of the memoirs that Loeb believes are particularly noteworthy are Yet Another Voice (Normal Daniel) and the Courageous and the Proud (Samuel Vance). The Vance book best serves the purpose of shooting down the myth that "blacks are not equal to the task of war," according to Loeb. One book he did not name was Brothers: Black Soldiers in the Nam, with an introduction by Clark C. Smith, who was professor at the University of California (Berkeley) and the organizer of the "Vietnam Veteran's Oral History Project. Smith writes in the Foreword that his book "is an attempt to give the black veteran a voice in the history of the war."

Among the first-person accounts found in this book, Stan Goff was a decorated combat veteran with the 196th Light Infantry Brigade that operated in southern I Corps. His story is interesting, although there are long pages of narrative where not much happens. When Stan finished basic training Stan said "At first I was scared. Then I wasn't" (Goff, 11). He remembers that the black drill sergeants "knew we were going to end up on the front lines," and they themselves had been on the front lines so they "didn't grind us in the dirt." Stan related to them to, because while he saw lots of black NCOs, he didn't see many black officers. There was a feeling that "blacks were being drafted for genocidal purposes...to get rid of us - to eliminate the black male. And we believed it" (Goff 11).

On his first trip out into the war zone, Stan realized that the mainly black soldiers in his platoon - "just because I was black" - "...really went all out to protect me and tried to orient me toward Charlie [Viet Cong] and toward the white men and why I was there" (Goff 29). And at that particular time, the late 1960s, "whites depended on the brothers to fight." Goff learned a lot about the politics of the war - why so many blacks were sent over, and what was expected of them when they got to Vietnam - from a guy named Piper, the brightest black guy he met. Piper warned him not to try and be a hero, to do his job and stay alert, and that's it. One night (Goff 34-36) Piper led a patrol out and Piper was "pissed off" because he saw the patrol as just an excuse for the company commander to have guys wander around until they were fired upon, so the company would know where the enemy would be.

In other words, the mostly black patrol would be a sitting duck for the enemy to wipe some guys out. Night patrols were known to consist of mostly black troops, and had the heaviest number of casualties in the war. But instead of following those directions, Piper had his patrol start firing into the jungle and "popping grenades. BOOM. BOOM." And "all of a sudden, we all started running back to the company, still firing all the way, running like hell." It was a phony exercise, but Piper pulled it off. The patrol stayed in camp and only the next day went back out, but this time with the full company. Survival sometimes calls for a little deception, Piper explained to Stan, and Stan was obviously a good listener and knew whom to trust.

After Stan had been well trained in how to handle the big gun that platoons carried, the M-60 (called the "pig"), he began to enjoy the assignment. A southern NCO worked with him to get him fully familiarized and one afternoon the platoon he was in was walking along a streambed when they were hit with fire. "All hell broke loose," said Stan (69). It was his first firefight, and he "fired all my ammo up instantaneously," but his partner Carl keep feeding new ammo into the pig and laid down a lot of "lead" in all the bushes from where the firing had come. The sergeant came up to him and said, "Hey Goff, you did a hell of a good job, man." It made Goff feel worthy and needed, and helped him get through it all.