Fighting for Freedom by Charles F. Bolden Jr. and Gail Lumet Buckley

Charles F. Bolden Jr., and Gail Lumet Buckley’s Fighting for Freedom (D Giles, 80 pp., $16.95, paper) is the fifth in the National Museum of African American History and Culture’s “Double Exposure” series. The book contains a series of captivating photos from the Civil War to the present day of men and women in uniform.

Though the writing is brief, tantalizing details emerge about African American military history most of us know nothing about. The writing accompanying the images is succinct and clear, adding enticing details.

The photos themselves, all sixty-two of them, are stunning in their beauty and power. There are many of groups of African American men and women troops, as well as single portraits and snapshots. It is striking to see photos of handsome young men, smiling with pride on the way to war. They are healthy and dignified, knowing they are going to serve their country. Then there are the images of men back from battle, their faces haunted, their shoulders slumped, exhaustion and pain etched in their faces.

Quite a few women are included, such Capt. Della Raney, who in 1942 became the first African American nurse accepted into the Army Nurse Corps, and all of the female members of the all-black, World War II 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion.

There is a photo of military training at Tuskegee, as well as one of a smaller group of Tuskegee airmen; a stereoscopic image of African American volunteers in the Philippines in 1899; a shot of Gen. Lloyd Austin III, the former Commanding General of American forces in Iraq; and one of two unidentified soldiers giving the soul power salute in Vietnam in 1967.

There are also a few photos of African American people going about their everyday lives—a wedding, a woman in a park in Washington, D.C.—that remind us that before and after war many black people had to fight for their own freedoms here at home. And that they had lives like everyone else— memories, pain, glories, and joys.

The book contains no preaching or proselytizing, making it even an even more powerful look at African Americans’ military experiences.

—Loana Hoylman

1000 Yard Stare by Marc C. Waszkiewicz

Many fine photography books have come out of the Vietnam War. Some, like Larry Burrows’, are breathtaking achievements that meld art, science, and a profound depiction of war. Others—often just as compelling—bring together images by multiple photographers. Marc Waszkiewicz’ 1000 Yard Stare: A Marine’s Eye View of the Vietnam War (Stackpole Books, 328 pp., $39.95, hardcover and Kindle) is neither of these, although at first that’s not apparent.

With the help of by Lea Jones and Crista Dougherty, Waszkiewicz—who served three Vietnam War tours as an artillery forward observer—has produced instead a fine photo album chock full of compelling images. As in all photo albums, the most recurring subject is its author.

That’s not a bad thing. What we get are photos Waszkiewicz took and some his buddies took. Between them all, Waszkiewicz does a very good job of presenting a visual record of his tour in Vietnam—and afterward. With insatiable curiosity he records the countryside, the villagers, the combatants, the prisoners, and the weaponry.

But more importantly, he also records his life and the lives of the young Marines with whom he served. Sometimes they were frightened, sometimes grieved, and sometimes they were just goofy. Waszkiewicz captures something that most Vietnam War photo books miss: the spunky resilience of the young American men who served there; their inability to consider themselves victims; and their indefatigable insistence on making the best of bad situations.

Waszkiewicz in Vietnam in 1969

There’s not a bad joke left untold, not a single joint left unsmoked. He and his fellow troops worked hard and played hard. If you had to be in hell, you should do your best to dupe the devil. And if you had to be in Vietnam during the war, Marc Waszkiewicz was a good guy to have around.

The last part of the book record trips he made with other veterans to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial and to Vietnam. As the chapter title suggests, these trips are about trying to find peace.

These later images lack the sharp, compelling edge of the Vietnam War photos, but they’re quite nice.

Sort of like life itself.

—Michael Keating

The Vietnam War: The Definitive Illustrated History

The Vietnam War: The Definitive Illustrated History (DK, 360 pp., $40) is a coffee-table book that probably is not “the definitive” history of the war in words and pictures–but it comes close. Long on photos and other images (more than 500) and relatively short on words, the book (written by a group of historians in association with the Smithsonian Institution) concisely covers just about every political and military event associated with the Vietnam conflict from the French War in the 1950s to Indochina in the 21st century.

In between, chronologically presented, concisely written, profusely illustrated chapters zero in virtually every conceivable component of the war. Most of the short chapters deal with military and political history. But there also are images of war hardware (infantry weapons, artillery, aircraft, and armored vehicles), along with diagrams and maps.

Near the end there’s a two-page chapter, “American Homecoming,” that looks at Vietnam veterans’ homecoming. As is the case with the book’s other chapters, this one is concise and accurate. It includes a picture of a Vietnam veteran in a wheelchair panhandling, an image of the Purple Heart, an iconic shot of the big crowd at The Wall in Washington when it was dedicated in 1992, and a picture of a Desert Storm victory parade.

And this closing sentence:

“Vietnam veterans today stand alongside those who have served in the various theaters of the war on terrorism as worthy heroes—however shocking the new mantra of “Thank you for your service” may be to Vietnam veterans who experienced a totally different reception when they came home.”

The book’s inside covers are made up of collages of more than a hundred photos of photos submitted by Vietnam veterans.

—Marc Leepson

Focus on Vietnam by Steven Burchik

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Steven Burchik served as a sergeant with D Company of the 1st Infantry Division’s 2nd Battalion, 18th Infantry Regiment in Vietnam in 1968-69. Burchik was a forward observer, not a photographer, but he often had his camera with him. During his tour he took more than four thousand photographs. None of combat, he notes, since that’s when he was using a rifle—not a camera.

Burchik mailed the film to his wife, and didn’t see his prints or slides for the first time until after he returned from Vietnam. “It was an amazing experience to view them and remember the circumstances surrounding each image,” he writes in the introduction to Focus on Vietnam (Sharlin-K Press, 120 pp., $29, paper).

After that memorable experience, Burchik boxed up the photos and rarely looked at them until he was asked in 2013 to make a presentation on the war to a high school English class. Speaking to the class reignited his interest in the Vietnam War, and he wrote and published Compass and a Camera: A Year in Vietnam in 2014, followed by Focus on Vietnam.

You won’t find any Great Photographs in this new volume—no decisive moments, no grand tableaux, no epiphanies, no perfect compositions, no “Oh my God” images. The Vietnam War produced many great photographers—many unheralded—who left a trove of images of the beauty, the horror, the cruelty, and the kindnesses that resulted from America’s involvement in the conflict. Burchik is not one of them.

He took for himself a more prosaic task: depicting the daily life of the combat soldier.

Focus on Vietnam is arranged thematically into short chapters, each with brief introductory notes combined with relevant photos. The chapters reflect the interests of young Americans serving halfway around the world: weapons and transportation, children and villagers, Saigon and stand-downs, wading through rivers and tracking through jungles, pacification and the rice harvest. Burchik, curious and fresh-eyed, kept his camera by his side and recorded the life that passed before him.

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That’s the book’s power: a record of one man’s life as it is swept into a tidal wave of events far beyond his control. Everyone else depicted in his book, both American and Vietnamese, has similarly been swept up by the war. Yet daily life goes on, perhaps having taken on a sort of exotic sheen or at least an awareness that those involved are living history.

Burchik’s book, perhaps, will be best appreciated by those who have served and those who may soon serve. His images are fascinating yet familiar.

The author’s website is stevenburchik.com

–Michael Keating

U.S. Elite Forces by Marti Demiquels

U.S. Elite Forces: Uniforms, Equipment & Personal Items, Vietnam, 1965-1975 (Andrea Press/Casemate, 250 pp., $61), is a collection of more than a thousand photos of virtually every uniform, piece of equipment, and weapon used by U.S. Army advisors, LRRPs, Special Forces, and Marine, Navy and Air Force elite units in the Vietnam War.

Author Marti Demiquels somehow managed to gather hundreds of uniforms, military equipment, and weapons and photographed them for the book. He organizes the book into sections on units and uniforms (including head gear and footwear), weapons (broken down into firearms and grenades and ammunition), edged weapons (knives and machetes), and demolition charges. The equipment is presented in categories such as radios, survival (vests, markers, signal kits, compasses), and medical gear.

Demiquels also includes a long section that contains photo spreads of what he calls the “personal memorabilia” of elite unit veterans. The page for former 1st Sgt. Rick Grabianowski, who served with a MACV-SOG recon company in Vietnam in 1970, for example, includes two snapshots of Grabianowski in Vietnam, a photo of a silk flag with the MACV-SOG logo, and a 101st Airborne Division death card.

This coffee-table book is an illustrated paean to American special forces in the Vietnam War—and a useful reference book for anyone interested in looking at the things they carried and wore in the war.

—Marc Leepson

Snakes, Rain, and the Tet Offensive by William Ingalls


“Mortars, Heavy Equipment, and Books” could easily be added to the subtitle of Snakes, Rain and the Tet Offensive: War Stories With Photos by William Ingalls (War of Words,  271 pp., $90), a remarkable recollection of the author’s 1967-68 Vietnam War tour of duty.

Ingalls’ first day with the 362nd Combat Engineers was also the first time he had done “more than turn the key in a road grader,” he writes. “Each day was a learning process.” The unit spent five months in the shadow of Nui Ba Den (Black Virgin Mountain), expanding Tay Ninh Base: building roads, helipads, bunkers, and hootches. The Viet Cong were entrenched on the mountain so mortar and rocket attacks were a constant threat.

Ingalls freely expressed his antiwar opinions, but he also was dedicated to his work and took pride in the well-built culverts and base construction projects he worked on. When he was selected as his company’s Soldier of the Month, the officers and NCOs asked for his opinions on the war. “Just following orders didn’t work for the Germans and Japanese,” Ingalls replied, “so why should it work for me?” The Soldier of the Month award was withdrawn.

Ingalls made good use of his downtime, shooting some three hundred slides of daily life on the base, including photos of the showers, mess halls, hootches, and bunkers and the occasional makeshift brothel or store. He read Hemingway, Kafka, T S. Eliot, e e cummings, Rod McKuen, and others in his grader cab during work breaks.

During Ingalls’ sixth month in country the company was relocated to what he calls “The Cambodian Adventure,” building a Special Forces base camp on the border “directly in front of the Ho Chi Minh Trail.” Disobeying a sergeant’s order to go to the aid of some men wounded in an ambush saved Ingalls’ life. He refused, citing an Army regulation never to abandon your equipment.A group of engineers “drove down to the ambush site, and were all promptly killed,” Ingalls writes. “Thirteen guys gone, just like that.”

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William Ingalls

He credits his first wife Faith for sending his “Communist East German EXA-1″ camera to him in Vietnam, enabling him to produce a photographic record that Ingalls likens to Mathew Brady’s work in the American Civil War.His wife saved all the slides in a shoe box.

The quality of the images ranges from hastily shot photos to carefully captured ones, such as nighttime explosions and tracer trails.

Bill Ingalls’ MOS was 62E-20 (Road Grader Operator). With this work, he has added Photojournalist to his resume.

The author’s website is www.warofwords.co

—Curt Nelson

 

 

Contrasts of War edited by Larry Johns

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Contrasts of War: Vietnam War Images from U.S. Army Medic Bob “Doc” Shirley (Red1Publishing, 100 pp., $29, paper) is a conjurer’s trick, in the best sense. By juxtaposing fragments of poems by veteran Michael Monfrooe and refugee Chay Douangphouxay with the simple, elegiac photographs of Bob Shirley, the book attempts to transport the reader to war-torn Vietnam—its beauty, its starkness, its horror, its humidity.

It’s a story of men and children. Women, too, are portrayed, but not as often as helicopters. Nor were they as important. There are mothers and old women, and there’s a marvelous image of a barely dressed performer at a remote base gyrating on a makeshift stage as the men stand in rapt attention. But the focus immediately returns to the young American soldiers and the even younger local urchins attracted to them.

As a medic, Shirley had greater access than most. His photographs are straightforward and unadorned. They show soldiers at rest and during combat. His images of helicopters in defoliated forests are stark. His men are tense, even at rest. His children are inscrutable, serious far beyond their years—even when smiling.

In one photo five men stand awkwardly on the edge of a landing zone surrounded by a nearly leafless forest. The helicopter overhead, judging by the scant attention being paid to it, is rising away from the scene. On the facing page reads:

Somewhere in the middle of nowhere
A wasteland of lost innocence,
Covered in a cloud of smoke,
Screaming of deadly silence,
Somewhere in the middle of nowhere.
–Chay

In another photo, also in pale color, two men—seated, shirtless, and still—face the camera. One, smoking a cigarette, appears several times in the book. The facing page reads:

Common Bond

Just two American boys conceived through the draft,
Brothers borne in the womb of war.
–Chay

Shirley’s are not great photographs, but they are clean and honest. Nor are the poetic fragments of Douangphouxay and Monfrooe great poetry. But magic sparks from the juxtaposition and the conversation that’s generated between words and images.

Larry Johns is the impresario who pulled it all together. In trying to make sense of his older brother Jeffrey’s death in Vietnam in 1969, he visited the country several times and even built a memorial there to his brother.

Working with these three artists, Johns’ skillfully woven collection of poems and photographs stimulate the subconscious into a greater understanding of the past.

–Michael Keating