Every few years something comes up about my brother, John, and the other five MIAs who didn’t come back from Vietnam. A Veteran contacts us or there’s an article in the press. Now, there’s an invitation to go to Perth in August where they’re naming streets after the six, in a new housing development. 18 August 2006 is the 40th anniversary of the Battle of Long Tan, in which 18 Australian and more than 245 Viet Cong soldiers were killed. There will be different rememberings. It’s hard to put the dead to rest.
The first Vet, Barry, rang me in Mebourne 14 years ago with an invitation to Canberra for the dedication of the Vietnam Veterans War Memorial in October. I tried not to be hostile on the phone:
‘Listen Barry,’ I said, ‘it’s not my scene. Military salutes. Tough talk.’
‘It won’t be like that. I promise you.’
‘How many gooks you killed a day.’
‘Shit, Christine,’ he said gently, ‘we’re not a bunch of Rambos.’
‘Glorifying the whole thing.’
‘Glory? Not much of that.’ He was still calm.
‘Look, I marched in the moratoriums. I was a teacher. Took my students along.’
He wasn’t going to be drawn on that. ‘John was part of a great team. We were doing a dangerous job,’ he said.
Yes, he was a patient man. He wasn’t going to get off the phone until he’d had a good try at getting me to Canberra.
He told me how they were the ones who went out on the dust off. If one of ours was bleeding under the vines in the jungle, among the leeches, the medics would fly out and bring him in. When a bloke came in from a dust off, like Pete, he wouldn’t waste any time. Pete, yes, he’d swagger in to the mess, still in his battledress, jumping the queue, straight to the bar. ‘”Give us a beer,” he’d say and expect to be served. We were the ones that brought them in if they went down. And he’d get served.’ I had to laugh.
‘Barry, I’ve already told you. I was on the other side.’
‘So? That’s old stuff.’
‘I’ve got a friend who was a conscientious objector. Maybe they were the heroes.’
‘Maybe,’ said Barry. ‘Look mate, I was nineteen when I went. I didn’t even know where bloody Vietnam was.’
‘Well, you were a pack