I am excited to reveal the cover for Promises to the Fallen: A Vietnam War Novel. I'm proud of how it turned out. I started writing this novel in the fall of 2018.

I still have some work to do, and will announce, soon, the date Promises to the Fallen will be available. You will have your choice of Kindle (eBook), Paperback, Hardback, or Audiobook.

After writing memoirs, When I Turned Nineteen, Soldiering After the Vietnam War and Finding My Platoon Brothers, I wanted to write about the Vietnam War with more freedom than being restricted by my memory from fifty years ago or old documents I found. So, I returned to Vietnam in June 2018 and started my journey.

I revisited the locations where my platoon brothers lived, worked, played, and died. Walking in the platoon’s footsteps, up hills, through hedgerows, and across rice paddy dikes that I trekked upon five decades ago, I refreshed my memory of the physical sensations and landscape I traversed at nineteen during the Vietnam War.

As I authored this story, I drew on firsthand experiences using my assigned army unit, Alpha Company of the 3rd Battalion, 1st Infantry Regiment 11th Light Infantry Brigade Americal Infantry Division, from my year in Vietnam along with some firebases and locations we patrolled.

I didn't write in the real context regarding the places or of the incidents from when I served. I did write them from my experiences and used other veterans’ time in the war to add to what an infantry soldier went through and what he thought as he survived his three hundred and sixty-five days.
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Tim O’Brien, the author, explained the difference between “story-truth” (fiction) and “happening-truth” (the true fact) and at times story-truth is truer than happening-truth. Story-truth is the emotion, the feeling created by a fictional story and sometimes truer.
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With that in mind, I offer this book not as a true story of the Vietnam War but as a lens through which I hope you will be able to observe with compassion and understanding from one infantry platoon's day-to-day struggle with survival, conflict, and death.

Today, August 7, 2019, is National Purple Heart Day
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Honoring the Combat Wounded of the First Platoon Company A 3rd Battalion, 1st Infantry Regiment 11th Brigade Americal Division, while serving in the Vietnam War: June 1969 - March 1970.

I'll let the image below speak for itself.

​On Saturday, July 27, 2019, (3:00 PM) at the Hill 411 Reunion in Columbus, Georgia I will be talking about our Vietnam trip along with photos of Chu Lai, Duc Pho, Debbie and FSB 411 (then and now) and other sites in our A/O.

It’s been a little over a year since Mike (Dankert), and I completed our "second tour” in Vietnam. We were lucky to be together for the first tour in 1969. Our paths crossed a couple of times through seemingly random circumstances before we were finally linked together and became “Dankert-Haynie” - nearly inseparable, for our time in the field with the 1st platoon.
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There was nothing accidental about our second tour to Vietnam. Mike and I have been friends for 50 years. I asked Mike to join me and my son David, and Mike immediately agreed. In March 2018 operation “Enduring Friendship” began. I handled the logistics, and on June 14 we boarded a plane bound for Korea and then Vietnam. As best we could, we visited sites important to us from our 1969 experiences, took photographs, and recalled our time together as young infantry soldiers.

1st Platoon Company A 3rd Battalion, 1st Infantry Regiment 11th Infantry Brigade Americal Division

NVA Psychological Operations (PSYOP) Team
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Fifty years ago this day, July 11, 1969, (three days after we secured the Hill) Mike Dankert and I sat at our position on Hill 4-11, with John Meyer on guard duty. Out of nowhere, we heard songs playing from the jungle 800 meters away. Everyone on the Hill got quiet. The three songs played were “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?” by Peter, Paul, and Mary, “Oh, Susannah” by James Taylor and “North to Alaska” by Johnny Horton. The sound quality was excellent. Then the broadcast changed to someone speaking in English, asking us why we were fighting in Vietnam. He told us to surrender, come over to their side, or get wiped out.

​This “Hill” soon defined our platoon and the AO we patrolled.
 
On this day, July 8, 1969, first platoon, in a column of two’s, entered the rear of the Chinook helicopter, and the Chinook lifted off to take us to secure the new firebase location on a hill seven miles west of Quang Ngai City. The Chinook landed without receiving enemy fire, and we exited through the rear door as soon as it dropped.
 
We got on line to sweep the hill for booby traps. We found booby-trapped grenades, 2.75-inch rockets, and a canister full of napalm with a firing device planted in the ground.
 
Captain Tyson erected a sign on top of the hill that named the hill Fire Support Base Kelley-McCoy. Kelley and McCoy were two NCOs killed one day apart in the Rice Bowl a week earlier. However, the name Hill 4-11 became the official name of the firebase. The companies would take turns building the FSB. Alpha Company took the first 30-day rotation while the other companies patrolled the new AO along with the ARVNs.

This morning I opened the envelope that held my passport. A ticket to the My Lai Memorial fell out. I thought of my trip to Vietnam in June 2018 and recalled visiting the My Lai Memorial and Museum with Mike and David. Mike and I thought we should pay our respects to the civilians that lost their lives that day due to one criminal, a lieutenant.

I found the Memorial and Museum educational and humbling. It was slanted towards North Vietnam and their people, but it should be, it’s their story. The American platoon (in 1968) shouldn’t have committed the murders under any circumstances. I had a woman in her mid-twenties, with her boyfriend and sister, ask me how I felt about the massacre, as she was crying. I told her I thought it was a criminal act, and I felt sorry for the villagers the infantry platoon killed that day. She thanked me and left.

In June of 2018, Mike Dankert, who I served with in Vietnam and my best friend, with my oldest son, David, returned to Vietnam. One of the places we visited was the Americal Division Combat Center in Chu Lai.

Stopping alongside the road we got out of the van and headed to an opening in the concrete wall that ran parallel to the street to the entrance to what we thought was the Combat Center. Of course, nothing was there from the days of the military base, just barren land covered in white sand and sparse vegetation. As we walked to the point where I thought was the entrance to the Combat Center, it wasn’t too hard to visualize the location of the Shipping Shed, and where my hooch was on the right side of the entrance.

I pointed out to David and Mike where Wayne and my hooch would’ve been when we arrived at the Combat Center. Then I showed them the area where we watched movies at the outdoor theater, and where the shower was when Wayne got me cleaned up from one night of me drinking too much beer. Assuming the road that paralleled the beach wasn’t moved over the years, the locations I pointed at were correct.

It was at my hooch that Mike came to visit after he got a “rear job,” working in supply, in Duc Pho. We sat on the front porch watching the South China Sea, sipping on our Jim Beam and Coke, while talking about our time together and our platoon brothers.

Being at the Combat Center held special memories for me because it was the location where I felt safe from war and shared time with my brother, Wayne. We flew to Vietnam together. Later, the Combat Center became my sanctuary after my time with First Platoon.

While standing on the white sand, I recalled the time Wayne and I spent at the Combat Center, March – April 1969. After the first roll-call, the Company Commander opted to keep us at the Combat Center, until he decided what to do with us. Two brothers in-country presented a problem. I was disappointed. For me, going to an infantry unit is why I enlisted in the Army and wanted to go to Vietnam and serve my country. It was my duty. I wasn’t trained as an infantry soldier to come to Vietnam to work as a supply clerk.

Having Wayne with me at the Combat Center was great because we were best friends, and I didn’t become lonely living away from home in a foreign land. However, the need and obligation to be with an infantry unit never subsided. After six weeks, Wayne went to Korea, and I joined First Platoon Alpha Company 3rd Battalion/1st Infantry Regiment 11th Brigade. We departed for our new assignments two weeks after my nineteenth birthday.

When leaving the Combat Center to join my infantry platoon, I was young and naive about war. It was eight months later that I came back to this same spot looking for any job that would be safer than being with an infantry platoon.

While serving with First Platoon, it took no time to discover that war wasn’t about service to my country, or duty, or fighting communism, but daily survival for my platoon brothers and me. During a firefight, I didn't think of the American flag, defending the United States, patriotism, or even keeping the ground we stood on, my thoughts were of my brothers to my left and right. Nothing else mattered but watching over each other and going home.

Little did I know how the hardships, the horrors, the killing, and the dying would affect me during my time in Vietnam and long after the war ended. The fear and guilt that war and combat created have since followed me every day of my life.

1st Platoon Company A 3rd Battalion/1st Infantry Regiment 11th Infantry Brigade Americal Division
 
May they be remembered. On this day (August 15, 1969) Paul Ponce, Joe Mitchell, James Anderson and Danny Carey were killed in action (KIA) by an enemy ambush  west of Quang Ngai.

​It was early afternoon, August 15, 1969, as the platoon moved through the rice paddies and then a large field toward the river, east of Hill 4–11, in search of the large NVA force that had attacked the platoon earlier when the enemy detonated a 500-pound bomb. The explosion killed Paul Ponce, Joe Mitchell, James Anderson, and Danny Carey, and wounded seven other platoon members. It took several hours to get the wounded and dead removed from the battlefield and flown back to the division firebase hospital. The wounded were: Ryan Okino, Charlie Deppen, Tommy Thompson, Mike Dankert, Glyn Haynie, Bill Davenport, and Ray Hamilton.

This was most of the second squad - seated from the left is James Anderson (KIA), Danny Carey (KIA), Bill Davenport (WIA), Ray Hamilton (WIA) - Standing from the left Mike Dankert (WIA), Ronald Owens and Jerry Ofstedahl (KIA). This photograph was taken east of FSB Hill 4-11 by Glyn Haynie August 12, 1969. 

Paul Ponce at Duc Pho, Brigade Firebase Bronco, on the left, with Leslie Pressley on the right.
 
Specialist 4th Class Paul Ponce, from Santa Clara, California, had arrived at the platoon in November 1968. He and his wife, Juanita, had no children. Paul was always friendly and talkative, and he would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. It was one hot day in May, while we walked along Highway 1, that Paul bought and gave me my good luck charm, the peace sign. He’d gone to Hawaii on R & R to meet his wife and was a happy man upon his return to the squad. I learned in February 2016 while talking with a niece that Paul had a son conceived while on R & R.

​Joe Mitchell in the center, Maurice Harrington on his right, and Mike Stout on his left on Firebase Debbie.
 
Specialist 4th Class Joe Mitchell, the first squad leader, was from Chicago, Illinois. Joe had arrived at the platoon in November 1968, which made him an old-timer with experience. He and his wife, Barbara, had no children. Joe was always friendly, talkative, and willing to share his experiences and knowledge with the squad members. We were never close, but he taught me a great deal while I was in the first squad.

James Anderson, Basic Training photograph. A photograph of him in
Vietnam can’t be found.
 
Private First Class James Anderson, 20, was from Smiths Grove, Kentucky and had a southern drawl. He was one of the newer guys, an FNG, with the squad for only two weeks, having arrived at the platoon the end of July 1969. James married Janice before coming to Vietnam and had no children. James was quiet but always paid attention to his surroundings, and you could tell he tried to learn as much as possible by watching others. He was adapting to Vietnam and fitting in with the second squad.

​Danny Carey, Basic Training photograph. A photograph of him in Vietnam can’t be found.
 
Private First Class Danny Carey, 20, from Utica, Illinois, was unmarried.
Danny liked to kid around and laugh. He found the good in any circumstance. It was great that we had someone with his disposition in the second squad. He’d arrived at the platoon the end of June 1969 and was with us when we built the Hill. Danny was an asset to the squad, and we could count on him during the hard times. Danny’s hometown, Utica, dedicated a park in his name, the Danny Carey Memorial Park.

This is the location today where the platoon was ambushed. The photograph was taken by Glyn Haynie in June 2018.

​1st Platoon Company A 3rd Battalion/1st Infantry Regiment 11th Infantry Brigade Americal Division
 
May they be remembered. On this day, August 13, 1969, Jerry Ofstedahl, Richard Wellman, and Robert Swindle were killed by an enemy ambush outside Quang Ngai. Frank Brown (no photo of Frank available) was critically wounded. 

Moving through the fields and hedgerows on August 13, 1969, the point man engaged several NVA soldiers. Jerry Ofstedahl, SSG Robert Swindle, and Richard Wellman moved toward the sounds of the weapons firing to locate the enemy positions. A large enemy force in a well-concealed ambush opened fire, with AK-47s, Rocket-Propelled Grenades (RPG), and a 51 caliber machine gun, on the platoon, killing Ofstedahl, Swindle, and Wellman in seconds. The enemy wounded Frank Brown as he moved toward the sound of the weapons firing. Mike Dankert and a medic administered lifesaving first aid to Frank Brown during the attack.

​Jerry Ofstedahl, 2nd Squad Leader on FSB Debbie.
 
Specialist 4th Class Jerry Ofstedahl, from Napa, California, was the squad leader for the second squad. Jerry had arrived at the platoon in December 1968, which made him an old-timer with experience. He’d married Claire, his longtime girlfriend, while on Rest and Recuperation (R & R) to Tokyo, Japan, the month before; he had no children. I found Jerry to be an outstanding leader, someone I wanted to emulate. He always shared his experiences
and knowledge to help us survive our year in Vietnam and treated the
squad members without favoritism.

SSG Robert Swindle after getting resupplied, in the hills off Highway 1.
 
Staff Sergeant Robert Swindle was from Fort Lauderdale, Florida. He was married to Celsa and had a son. Staff Sergeant Swindle, a career soldier, had arrived at the platoon in June 1969 and was assigned as the platoon sergeant. His assignment to Vietnam was in February 1969, but I’m not sure what his first job was. I didn’t know him personally but respected him as our platoon sergeant. He was aloof but maintained a professional relationship and didn’t socialize with the members of the platoon. He was a caring leader and always looked out for our welfare and safety. Swindle had my respect because it wasn’t often a career noncommissioned officer was assigned to the platoon or Company.

A photograph Richard “Rebel” Wellman had taken and sent to his family while in Vietnam. Photograph provided by Brenda Jones (Rebel’s sister).
 
Private First Class Richard Wellman, was from Gastonia, North Carolina, and had a Southern drawl. That’s how he got the nickname “Rebel.” He was 20 and had married his wife, Deborah, before coming to Vietnam. He’d received his assignment to the platoon March 1969. Rebel was quiet but always willing to speak if you engaged him in conversation. He proved himself during his first six months while in the first squad and was assigned as the platoon sergeant Radio Telephone Operator (RTO) after Terry Daron left for a rear job. Rebel was well-liked and trusted by the men of First Platoon.

This is the approximate location today where Jerry, Swindle, and Rebel were killed, and Frank Brown wounded. Where you see the water was a trench used by the NVA in August 1969. The photograph was taken by Glyn Haynie in June 2018.