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Herping in a Combat Zone
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| In the late 1960's I received, courtesy of the United
States government, an all-expenses paid, extended tour of what was then known --
euphemistically, as it turns out -- as the Republic of South Vietnam. Unlike most of
my colleagues, who viewed the monsoonal tropical forests of south-east Asia as some sort
of "green hell," I immediately fell in love with the place. As a life-long
avocational naturalist, I sensed that I was indeed being given an opportunity to study the
natural history of a place that not many got to see. There was a catch,
though. The rebellious indigenous types were continuously shooting at and attempting
to blow me up! I got to see Vietnam from two distinctly different
perspectives during my year-and-a-half stay there. First as a combat infantryman
with the First Infantry Division and later, after collecting one of those miraculous
"million-dollar wounds," as a preventive medicine specialist with the 20th
Preventive Medicine Unit of the 44th Medical Brigade.
The stories included in this site are an attempt to
describe the feelings of a naturalist who just happened to be caught up in this
unfortunate war. Many times I had to force myself to recall the final paragraphs of
Erich Maria Remarque's All Quiet on the Western Front, a chilling reminder not to
get too enthralled in the overwhelming beauty of the place.
To access a story, click on the service ribbon to its
left. As with all war stories, these must be prefaced with the admonition,
"this really happened!"
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