Tet ’68 and Stella’s Game

On Tuesday, 30 January 1968, many of us awoke to a world different from the one we had slept in.

Marines outside Hue, February 1968
Getty images

There was supposed to be lines, rear areas, clean divisions between combatant and non-combatant…everybody knew that’s what war was supposed to be like. Combat was like, well, Combat and The Gallant Men. Besides, General Westmorland and Vice President Humphrey both said that the US was winning the war in Vietnam. Then…

Nứt trời; Làm rung chuyển trái đất!

Vietnamese for Crack the Sky; Shake the Earth!

But the Tet offensive, like the message above, in ’68 changed all those perceptions. The phrase was the signal sent to North Vietnamese units that the offensive to take over South Vietnam, planned for months, was on. Khe Sanh was suddenly put under siege; the US embassy in Saigon was partially captured; many provincial capitals were attacked, and the old capital of Vietnam’s empire, Hue, was captured by Viet Cong forces, which began a bloody campaign of massacre.

War didn’t have executions like the one in the New York Times for 2 February 1968–the one on top of this blog. Photographer Eddie Adams captured BG Nguyen Ngoc Loan, chief of South Vietnam’s national police, executing CPT Nguyen Van Lem of the Viet Cong, whose unit had just slaughtered Lem’s friend’s family. Before that photo appeared, Vietnam was just World War II in color with different weapons and uniforms, and the US Department of Defense had treated it just like that..until that day.

And Vietnam became a very different kind of war…

Wounded men, Tet ’68
Washington Post

And there were images of men hurt in the fighting delivered into your very home; in the newspapers, the magazines, on television. I was twelve, living a comfortable white-bread suburb of Detroit…and we saw this war unfold before us in living color. This kind of horror came after the riot of ’67, when the whiffs of smoke and tear gas rising on that wet and angry breeze from downtown, and the imagery of troops marching in formation down Woodward Avenue with bayonets fixed, and the news that our housekeeper was burned out of her home, reached us in the supposedly insulated suburbs that long and hot summer. Sure, I was too young to be drafted, but my older sisters had boyfriends…and one who was drafted in March of ’68; and one was going to West Point in the fall.

That war affected the affluent, too.

Public perceptions of the war changed decidedly after that. Though the battles for the capitals and the countryside ended with the US and South Vietnamese controlling most of the country and the Viet Cong were mostly destroyed, the war for public opinion was lost that winter. By spring, the demands to end the war were becoming overwhelming. Yet, Richard Nixon’s campaign theme was “Law and Order,” while Hubert Humphrey’s was “End the War.” And Nixon won in ’68 mostly, it is thought, because he promised new leadership…and he did get the US out two years before the Saigon government collapsed.

Your Author, 1967

And that damn war affected the characters in Stella’s Game: A Story of Friendships. Imagine how a 12-year old–like the guy to the right here–might be affected by the knowledge that a family friend was a Marine stuck in Khe Sanh…and how his friends might be affected by that knowledge. Remember that this is Nixon country for the most part; supporters of the conflict in Vietnam.

But you don’t have to imagine it if you can read about it in Stella’s Game: A Story of Friendships on Amazon or at your favorite booksellers.

Cover of Stella's Game:

Stella’s Game and Christmas 2019

By the time you see this, Stella’s Game: A Story of Friendships should be available as a Kindle book (ISBN 978-1-64550-698-0)…just $0.99 you cheapskates (or free for you Kindle Unlimited members)! Go have a look!

Back Cover of Stella’s Game: A Story of Friendships

Out of my depth, you say, YOU write about history. Well, this is history, really: a view of the 1960’s and early ’70’s as experienced by four young people living in suburban Detroit. It’s somewhat autobiographical; somewhat not. It’s the times I grew up in, and it’s a story that my wife might want to read, since she doesn’t read the rest of my stuff.

So the story begins, and in a few weeks you’ll be able to get the paperback (ISBN 978-1-64550-694-2) and the E-book. Stella’s Game, as I’ve said before, starts with young children, growing up amid the turmoil of the times. The guy in the picture? Yeah, he’s me; he’s eight and in 3rd Grade when Stella’s Game begins.

Growing up in affluence in the ’60’s didn’t make anyone immune from the chaos, but Stella’s Game could.

Money couldn’t save kids in the suburbs from the troubles of the ’60’s, especially in Detroit, but Stella’s Game did.

In the ’60’s, people lost respect for institutions, but not for Stella’s Game .

Before there were cell phones, before there was a World Wide Web, before Facebook and e-mail, and before people became fleshy appendages to electronic media devices, there was Stella’s Game.

Before there was Google, friends lost each other, but there was Stella’s Game.

When Stella dealt her Game, everyone were friends. Stella’s Game is home, a safe port in a roiling sea.  When she shuffled, the world took a seat, and the winds fell; as she dealt, the waters returned to calm. When the cards were dealt, troubles were gone.

Stella’s Game:  the eye of the storm where you are welcome and safe…she won’t have it any other way. The players become family.  No matter the argument–calm, cool, uproarious or explosive, Stella sits at her big round table and quietly to shuffles her cards.  As she shuffles, the boisterousness begins to subside, or the temperature slowly drops, and a calm descends on the room as the players take their place at the table, and Stella begins to deal her Game. Stella shuffles cards, and everything else gradually fades into the background. An aura of serenity envelops the room, unnoticed by the players–the subjects and participants–in the process. No one decides to put everything aside. they just play, and failure to take part is a heresy.

The players don’t bear witness to the process–they are a part of it.  Stella’s Game just happens.

Four kids experience the marches, the riots, the wars…and puberty and family quarrels and weddings and divorces and madness and death and birth…then they get to graduate from high school and move on to…well, that’s where Tideline: Friendship Abides takes over in 2020.

Christmas 2019

For all of my loyal readers–O you brave souls–I wish you a blessed and a Merry Christmas and a peaceful and prosperous New Year. Some of my messmates have paid the ultimate price for our freedom, but most have not. To all of my comrades in arms I say thanks for staying alive. I plan on putting out a blog at least twice a month for all of 2020, regardless of which grifter ends up in the White House.

Happy Holidays from the Front

I also want to take a few minutes here to say a special Happy Holidays to those of you who are in harm’s way, and living some version of the photo to the right. That could have been me more than once, eating my holiday meal in the boonies, shoveled out of a Mermite can and onto a paper plate, consumed with a plastic fork and knife.

Clare-Bear and Alex, 2018

This is the last photo I have of Clare, courtesy of her daughter. The boy is her grandson. I like to think that the best Christmas gift anyone could give Alex–who I’ve never met–might be to never feel the pain of his Clare-Bear’s passing.

At this time of year I want very much to think back with fondness, but…not this year. The passing of my Brown-Eyed Girl–to whom Stella’s Game is dedicated–was harder on me than I care to admit. I think of “better places” that she could be in and I just think that the best place for her has always been in my heart, if not next to me on the sofa. Her passing was devastating for those of us who loved her, especially Peter, Shannon, and Eric…and you know who you are. But, be at peace, Ware. We shall always think of you with fondness, gratitude and love.