Waiting for an Army to Die Read Free Page B

destroyed by American and South Vietnamese ground forces. Until 1970, when the Air Force suspends use of Agent Orange in Vietnam, the Ranch Hand team will fly hundreds of missions, destroying thousands, then millions, of acres of mangrove forests, jungle, and crops.
    Because of navigational difficulties, and the possibility of losing crew members when a plane is shot down, night flights have beenruled out. The slow-moving planes, skimming in broad daylight just 150 feet about the trees, make tempting targets to enemy gunners. The planes move in patterns similar to those one makes when mowing the lawn, forward and back until a predetermined area has been fully covered. Although a mission can be completed in three to five minutes, the Ranch Handers take many hits, making them among the most decorated veterans of the Vietnam War.
    Sometimes the C-123s spray around the perimeters of base camps, where shirtless men carrying tanks of herbicides on their backs now and then playfully spray one another, or Huey helicopters mounted with spray booms work and rework approaches to the base. Some of the troops complain of headaches that last for hours, even days, and skin rashes that cover their arms, necks, and faces. But no one collapses or dies following his exposure to Agent Orange, and the defoliated Maginot Line between base camp and jungle might mean the difference between life and death. The defoliation campaign, though a topic of casual conversation among the troops, is accepted as just one part of the overall effort to defeat the enemy.
    “I really didn’t know what they were spraying,” explained John Green, who served as a medic in Vietnam. “Some people thought it was for mosquitoes, but I never really gave it much thought. I do remember walking through defoliated zones. Everything was dead. The trees had literally grown to death, because that’s how Agent Orange works—it accelerates growth in a plant’s cells until finally the plant or tree dies. Did we drink the water? Of course we did. Where we were there was nothing else to drink. If we found a bomb crater full of water we just scooped it out and drank it, no matter how brown or scummy it looked. Some of our food was undoubtedly sprayed with Agent Orange. But how were we to know? The army told us the stuff was harmless. And we were told it was supposed to be saving our lives. The ‘strategists’ had this idea that the enemy moved in neat little patterns, like a highway grid or something. You eliminate the pattern and you shut the man off, he can’t move anymore. But that, unfortunately, was nonsense. Ifthey shut off one of his trails, he just found another. It was his country, and he really knew how to compensate.”
    Because of the frequency with which men and equipment were moved from one location to another, some veterans are not certain where they were at any given time. But they do remember being doused with herbicides or walking through defoliated moonscapes. They remember that even before they left Vietnam, their bodies were covered with rashes; they felt dizzy, nauseous, and suffered from migraine headaches, stomach cramps, and black depressions. The rashes were considered just another variety of “jungle rot” by medical personnel, while other symptoms of dioxin exposure were dismissed as the result of stress brought on by the war. Some soldiers realized that their problems had something to do with the spraying, but there was little they could do to stop it or to protect themselves from further poisoning. They had not been issued protective gear, had no idea when or where a spray mission might occur, and lived in the same clothing for days, even weeks, while in the field. If they survived twelve months they would be home free. They had little reason to believe otherwise.
    One of the men who believed he had escaped serious injury in Vietnam now lives near Syracuse, New York, just fifty miles from where the first large-scale tests of herbicides for