Bring it on, John
Oliver North
August 27, 2004
"Of course, the president keeps telling people he would
never question
my service to our country. Instead, he watches as a Republican-funded
attack
group does just that. Well, if he wants to have a debate about our
service
in Vietnam, here is my answer: 'Bring it on.'" -- Sen. John Kerry
Dear John,
As usual, you have it wrong. You don't have a beef with President
George
Bush about your war record. He's been exceedingly generous about your
military service. Your complaint is with the 2.5 million of us who
served
honorably in a war that ended 29 years ago and which you, not the
president,
made the centerpiece of this campaign.
I talk to a lot of vets, John, and this really isn't about your
medals
or how you got them. Like you, I have a Silver Star and a Bronze
Star. I
only have two Purple Hearts, though. I turned down the others so that
I
could stay with the Marines in my rifle platoon. But I think you
might agree
with me, though I've never heard you say it, that the officers always
got
more medals than they earned and the youngsters we led never got as
many
medals as they deserved.
This really isn't about how early you came home from that war,
either,
John. There have always been guys in every war who want to go home.
There
are also lots of guys, like those in my rifle platoon in Vietnam, who
did a
full 13 months in the field. And there are, thankfully, lots of young
Americans today in Iraq and Afghanistan who volunteered to return to
war
because, as one of them told me in Ramadi a few weeks ago, "the
job isn't
finished."
Nor is this about whether you were in Cambodia on Christmas Eve,
1968.
Heck John, people get lost going on vacation. If you got lost, just
say so.
Your campaign has admitted that you now know that you really weren't
in
Cambodia that night and that Richard Nixon wasn't really president
when you
thought he was. Now would be a good time to explain to us how you
could have
all that bogus stuff "seared" into your memory --
especially since you want
to have your finger on our nation's nuclear trigger.
But that's not really the problem, either. The trouble you're
having,
John, isn't about your medals or coming home early or getting lost --
or
even Richard Nixon. The issue is what you did to us when you came
home,
John.
When you got home, you co-founded Vietnam Veterans Against the
War and
wrote "The New Soldier," which denounced those of us who
served -- and were
still serving -- on the battlefields of a thankless war. Worst of
all, John,
you then accused me -- and all of us who served in Vietnam -- of
committing
terrible crimes and atrocities.
On April 22, 1971, under oath, you told the Senate Foreign
Relations
Committee that you had knowledge that American troops "had
personally raped,
cut off ears, cut off heads, taped wires from portable telephones to
human
genitals and turned up the power, cut off limbs, blown up bodies,
randomly
shot at civilians, razed villages in fashion reminiscent of Genghis
Khan,
shot cattle and dogs for fun, poisoned food stocks, and generally
ravaged
the country side of South Vietnam." And you admitted on
television that
"yes, yes, I committed the same kind of atrocities as thousands
of other
soldiers have committed."
And for good measure you stated, "(America is) more guilty
than any
other body, of violations of (the) Geneva Conventions ... the torture
of
prisoners, the killing of prisoners."
Your "antiwar" statements and activities were painful
for those of us
carrying the scars of Vietnam and trying to move on with our lives.
And for
those who were still there, it was even more hurtful. But those who
suffered
the most from what you said and did were the hundreds of American
prisoners
of war being held by Hanoi. Here's what some of them endured because
of you,
John:
Capt. James Warner had already spent four years in Vietnamese
custody
when he was handed a copy of your testimony by his captors. Warner
says that
for his captors, your statements "were proof I deserved to be
punished." He
wasn't released until March 14, 1973.
Maj. Kenneth Cordier, an Air Force pilot who was in Vietnamese
custody
for 2,284 days, says his captors "repeated incessantly"
your one-liner about
being "the last man to die" for a lost cause. Cordier was
released March 4,
1973.
Navy Lt. Paul Galanti says your accusations "were as
demoralizing as
solitary (confinement) ... and a prime reason the war dragged
on." He
remained in North Vietnamese hands until February 12, 1973.
John, did you think they would forget? When Tim Russert asked
about your
claim that you and others in Vietnam committed
"atrocities," instead of
standing by your sworn testimony, you confessed that your words
"were a bit
over the top." Does that mean you lied under oath? Or does it
mean you are a
war criminal? You can't have this one both ways, John. Either way,
you're
not fit to be a prison guard at Abu Ghraib, much less commander in
chief.
One last thing, John. In 1988, Jane Fonda said: "I would
like to say
something ... to men who were in Vietnam, who I hurt, or whose pain I
caused
to deepen because of things that I said or did. I was trying to help
end the
killing and the war, but there were times when I was thoughtless and
careless about it and I'm ... very sorry that I hurt them. And I want
to
apologize to them and their families."
Even Jane Fonda apologized. Will you, John?
Oliver North is a nationally syndicated columnist, host of the Fox
News
Channel's War Stories and founder and honorary chairman of Freedom
Alliance.
Oliver North
August 27, 2004
"Of course, the president keeps telling people he would
never question
my service to our country. Instead, he watches as a Republican-funded
attack
group does just that. Well, if he wants to have a debate about our
service
in Vietnam, here is my answer: 'Bring it on.'" -- Sen. John Kerry
Dear John,
As usual, you have it wrong. You don't have a beef with President
George
Bush about your war record. He's been exceedingly generous about your
military service. Your complaint is with the 2.5 million of us who
served
honorably in a war that ended 29 years ago and which you, not the
president,
made the centerpiece of this campaign.
I talk to a lot of vets, John, and this really isn't about your
medals
or how you got them. Like you, I have a Silver Star and a Bronze
Star. I
only have two Purple Hearts, though. I turned down the others so that
I
could stay with the Marines in my rifle platoon. But I think you
might agree
with me, though I've never heard you say it, that the officers always
got
more medals than they earned and the youngsters we led never got as
many
medals as they deserved.
This really isn't about how early you came home from that war,
either,
John. There have always been guys in every war who want to go home.
There
are also lots of guys, like those in my rifle platoon in Vietnam, who
did a
full 13 months in the field. And there are, thankfully, lots of young
Americans today in Iraq and Afghanistan who volunteered to return to
war
because, as one of them told me in Ramadi a few weeks ago, "the
job isn't
finished."
Nor is this about whether you were in Cambodia on Christmas Eve,
1968.
Heck John, people get lost going on vacation. If you got lost, just
say so.
Your campaign has admitted that you now know that you really weren't
in
Cambodia that night and that Richard Nixon wasn't really president
when you
thought he was. Now would be a good time to explain to us how you
could have
all that bogus stuff "seared" into your memory --
especially since you want
to have your finger on our nation's nuclear trigger.
But that's not really the problem, either. The trouble you're
having,
John, isn't about your medals or coming home early or getting lost --
or
even Richard Nixon. The issue is what you did to us when you came
home,
John.
When you got home, you co-founded Vietnam Veterans Against the
War and
wrote "The New Soldier," which denounced those of us who
served -- and were
still serving -- on the battlefields of a thankless war. Worst of
all, John,
you then accused me -- and all of us who served in Vietnam -- of
committing
terrible crimes and atrocities.
On April 22, 1971, under oath, you told the Senate Foreign
Relations
Committee that you had knowledge that American troops "had
personally raped,
cut off ears, cut off heads, taped wires from portable telephones to
human
genitals and turned up the power, cut off limbs, blown up bodies,
randomly
shot at civilians, razed villages in fashion reminiscent of Genghis
Khan,
shot cattle and dogs for fun, poisoned food stocks, and generally
ravaged
the country side of South Vietnam." And you admitted on
television that
"yes, yes, I committed the same kind of atrocities as thousands
of other
soldiers have committed."
And for good measure you stated, "(America is) more guilty
than any
other body, of violations of (the) Geneva Conventions ... the torture
of
prisoners, the killing of prisoners."
Your "antiwar" statements and activities were painful
for those of us
carrying the scars of Vietnam and trying to move on with our lives.
And for
those who were still there, it was even more hurtful. But those who
suffered
the most from what you said and did were the hundreds of American
prisoners
of war being held by Hanoi. Here's what some of them endured because
of you,
John:
Capt. James Warner had already spent four years in Vietnamese
custody
when he was handed a copy of your testimony by his captors. Warner
says that
for his captors, your statements "were proof I deserved to be
punished." He
wasn't released until March 14, 1973.
Maj. Kenneth Cordier, an Air Force pilot who was in Vietnamese
custody
for 2,284 days, says his captors "repeated incessantly"
your one-liner about
being "the last man to die" for a lost cause. Cordier was
released March 4,
1973.
Navy Lt. Paul Galanti says your accusations "were as
demoralizing as
solitary (confinement) ... and a prime reason the war dragged
on." He
remained in North Vietnamese hands until February 12, 1973.
John, did you think they would forget? When Tim Russert asked
about your
claim that you and others in Vietnam committed
"atrocities," instead of
standing by your sworn testimony, you confessed that your words
"were a bit
over the top." Does that mean you lied under oath? Or does it
mean you are a
war criminal? You can't have this one both ways, John. Either way,
you're
not fit to be a prison guard at Abu Ghraib, much less commander in
chief.
One last thing, John. In 1988, Jane Fonda said: "I would
like to say
something ... to men who were in Vietnam, who I hurt, or whose pain I
caused
to deepen because of things that I said or did. I was trying to help
end the
killing and the war, but there were times when I was thoughtless and
careless about it and I'm ... very sorry that I hurt them. And I want
to
apologize to them and their families."
Even Jane Fonda apologized. Will you, John?
Oliver North is a nationally syndicated columnist, host of the Fox
News
Channel's War Stories and founder and honorary chairman of Freedom
Alliance.
