I didn't set out to write a book. It was 1982, fourteen years after I had last set foot in Vietnam, and thirteen years after I returned to The World.
I had a family and a career.
I’d never written more than an occasional letter to the editor in my life.
My twisted insides had spawned ulcers.
The nightmares were more frequent.
I needed to get Vietnam out into the open, but I couldn’t talk about it.
Not after all those years.
Thus begins John Ketwig’s powerful memoir of the Vietnam War.