For eleven years; two million seven hundred thousand Americans served in Vietnam.
That number represents 10 percent of my generation.
Home was on every soldiers mind every day for one solid year. 365 days were counted off on calendars, notebooks, the hooch wall, the inside of a flak jacket, helmet covers and letters back home.
When the time came for me to go to Vietnam, the war was winding down and my orders were elsewhere. My life would have been far different had I PCS’ed to Vietnam. My last duty station was made up of 65% Vietnam returnees.
One of my best friends at the time, Bruce Anderson, relayed so many of his war experiences to me I wrote them down. He saw combat with the 187th Assault Helicopter Company. His experience is the inspiration for this artwork. Guys like Anderson I knew well and many were friends. Their experiences are indelibly imprinted on my own.
In the painting:
Three UH-1 crewmen are taking a break and a meal in the microcosm of their new home in Vietnam: a helicopter. Vietnam was a place where you slept where you worked and ate where you slept: where every base was a potential combat zone. These three guys are nineteen and have seen it all.
The painting is mounted on a damaged topographical map of 1960s Vietnam printed in English, French and Vietnamese.
