Jerry Nedwick was born in June of 1945 in Wichita Falls, Texas. His father served in the United States Army Air Corps during World War II as a door gunner and chief mechanic on B-17 bombing raids over France. Jerry served honorably in the United States Marine Corps from 1963 to 1966 and was dismissed by the Department of Defense in June 1967 with full benefits and privileges. His wife of more than 40 years has lived the aftermath of Vietnam with him and has been the support and tower of strength he needed to adjust to normal life. He would like to award her the Congressional Medal of Honor. Jerry was a successful husband, father, businessman, rancher, realtor, pilot, and law abiding citizen who was very patriotic and loved America and the freedom it affords every person. He continued to make regular visits to the United States Veteran’s Administration Hospital as part of the follow-up and rehab after Vietnam. He had been evaluated with multiple personality disorder with traits of paranoia. He was never been a danger to anyone or unable to live a normal life. This book was written from the memories and flashbacks of his time in the military.
Jerry passed away on November 18, 2011. His legacy will continue to live on through his family and this writing of his experiences in Vietnam. God Bless Jerry and all the Veterans. May he rest in peace.
“To be honest, this isn’t my normal genre. This book was recommended by a family member, so I decided to check it out. After reading the first chapter, I was hooked in and HAD to finish the book. The story not only held my attention, but I was brought into a vividly painted world that I wanted to know more about. I felt like I was in the bush with the author, smelling and seeing and following with him.” ~ 5 Stars
“I read this book over the weekend. The storyteller was so detailed in his writing that the pictures were very clear in my mind. It made me so thankful for Jerry’s and other servicemen’s commitment to the honor of our country. And it made me sad for all the images of war that they will never erase from their memories. I agree that it would make a great movie. Albeit a very graphic portrayal of the horror our troops must face on a daily basis; even after returning to their “normal” life. Thank you to all who serve and those that served before them.” ~ 5 Stars
“As a spouse of my own deceased Viet Nam Vet (coincidentally also named Jerry), I can attest to the fact that this book hits you in the gut and makes you think about a time in our history when the count of human suffering was measured in body bags. All soldiers that I know come home wounded, in one way or another… family members suffer too. But ours was a world in which soldiers and children did not tell. Whose idea was that, anyways? I want to know. Both Jerry’s rest in peace while their memory lives on – scars of war lives on forever.” ~ 4 Stars
I have the right to express my thoughts as a result of the Constitution of the United States,
specifically the Freedom of Speech.
I made this writing in defiance of a Secret Clearance as a Covert Recon Marine after maintaining that pledge for over 40 years. I do so to inform the public of the realities we face to combat the Evil that knows no rules or no deeds too grotesque.
After several years and much deliberation about my participation in the Vietnam War, I decided to write down my experiences and memories that happened over 43 years ago. The events, places and names are as accurate as 43 years of lapsed time allows. What you read is based on a great deal of fact, but it is upon the reader to determine fact from fiction.
Stories, recollections and events are based on those of a small group of men who shared their lives and deaths in a jungle infested with evil. The images, sounds and memories came from their hearts and minds and, on several occasions, from the depths of their souls.
In the Covert Recon team, each man’s reality in his everyday life in an undeclared covert war was different from another’s reality, but they were no less real…This writing is not for those with weak stomachs or those who are not open-minded about what men do in war and what war does to men. It is painfully graphic at times, but events and people are described in such a way that one might understand how things happened when surrounded by the worst of humanity and the instincts to survive.
…My sleepless nights, torment, anger and tortured memories are no more or less than any of those felt by the brave ment and women who served in similar conditions. I understand their realities and hope they understand mine.
Excerpt from Chapter 1
We arrived in San Antonio at 12:20 am and departed the airport on a dark blue school bus with gold letters, USAF, Lackland, A F. B., on the side. I actually felt hyped. I hadn’t eaten for 17 hours. I was weak from no food and hardly any sleep and yet I felt excitement racing through my body.
About 1:15 am, the bus stopped and a very big man in OD (Olive Drab) green fatigues got on the bus and started yelling obscenities at us at the top of his lungs. “Ladies, you will get off the bus and line up on the lines painted on the ground. NOW!”
Everybody lined up in two equal columns with one person left over. The Sergeant congratulated the odd man out by saying, “Since you don’t fit, you will be temporary squad leader. You rejects from home and fugitives from the law belong to me. You will do exactly as I say if you have any fucking brains. Do as you are told and you might survive. The ones who don’t make it, will go home shamefully.”
“Put your bags down to your left side and hence forth, do not use your fight hand for anything, but saluting an officer or wiping the shit off your asshole. In my opinion they are just the same.”
I thought to myself, this guy ain’t no Sunday school teacher. The rainbows, a word used to describe new recruits because of the various styles and colors of clothing they wore were processed by getting blood pressure, heart, lungs, teeth and a VD check.
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