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The Colonel as Father

As was the case with many military families, mine was deeply affected by the Vietnam War. My father, Lt. Col. William L. Boggs, was a career U.S. Army Infantry officer, which saw him rotate from assignment to assignment. The family (my mother, my four siblings, and I) moved from one base to another along with him – except, of course, during his two combat tours in Vietnam.

He was a dedicated infantry line officer, a warrior who volunteered for duty in Vietnam. His first tour there was in 1965-66, as an advisor to South Vietnam’s 32nd Infantry Regiment, a unit which during that period engaged in numerous and furious battles in the infamous Mekong Delta. He performed as all who knew him were sure that he would, with exemplary honor and bravery.

A newspaper photo from 1965 shows our family gathered around a tape recorder listening to messages from him; it was published upon the announcement that he had been awarded the Vietnamese government’s second highest award, the Cross of Gallantry with Silver Star.

He was awarded many United States Army commendations, including the Bronze Star and the Air Medal. When he returned from Vietnam in 1966, he was an even more accomplished, heroic figure than he had been before he left – which, to us, was barely imaginable.

Given his valorous and wholly patriotic nature, our family was not surprised when five years later, he went back for another tour in Vietnam. It was after he returned from this second combat year, in 1972, that he surprised us.

A news clipping: a mother and her 5 children listen to tapes from the father.

The Boggs Family Listening to a Tape from Dad Who was on Duty in Vietnam, 1965. Image courtesy of Bartlesville (OK) Examiner-Enterprise.

At that time, my older brother Mike was 20 years old and had been notified that he was to be drafted into the army; I was 18, preparing for a future determined by whatever number the upcoming televised draft lottery would assign to my birthdate. Our father sat down with the two of us, and asked what possible futures we were considering. He followed that question with an abrupt, “One thing is certain: you positively should not go to Vietnam.” 

There is no plan to win this war; if you go there now they’ll waste your life like they’re wasting thousands of others.

I remember Mike and I looking at each other in shock, neither of us knowing why the Colonel, son of a Colonel who fought in both world wars, a figure in a family whose military pedigree reached to the American Revolution – this exemplar of military valor – would ever say such a thing. 

“Why...?” I finally asked.

“Because in the next couple of years, we’ll be out of Vietnam. There is no plan to win this war; if you go there now they’ll waste your life like they’re wasting thousands of others.”

An older U.S. soldier crouched down with Asian soldiers, smoking a cigarette.

Major William L. Boggs in the Field in Vietnam in 1966.

He went on to explain what brought him to those conclusions. He carefully explored many of the facets that made up American political policy and how they informed and dictated military strategy in Vietnam.

Point by point, he made a strong case. His relating of his on-the-ground experiences were of enormous weight in educating the two of us about the war, and his keen knowledge of history and geopolitics gave us insight into the complexities of American involvement in Vietnam.

“So,” I asked, “how long do you think the war will go on?”

“Not more than, maybe, two more years. I would say we’ll be pulling out by ’74.”

That seemed incredible, as the war had gone on for a great portion of our lives to that point; it would seem strange not to be at war in Vietnam. Mike and I talked with the Colonel at length about courses of action for each of us. Whatever options were discussed, he consistently returned us to the preeminent consideration of steering clear of likely assignment in Southeast Asia. In the end, we seemed to have arrived at workable plans.

Very soon after that, Mike enlisted in the Navy as a musician. He served in a fleet band in San Diego, as well as on assignments such as a voyage into the Pacific to retrieve Skylab mission astronauts.

I enlisted in the Army. Following the advice of our father, I volunteered to serve three years rather than the minimum of two, this in order to obtain from the Army a contract that would have me serve in a highly specialized capacity. While there was no absolute guarantee that I would be trained in and serve in this specialty, or avoid being sent to Vietnam, it was highly likely that both would work out as planned; they, in fact, did. I ended up after Basic Training and Advanced Individual Training being posted to (West) Germany, and going on assignments throughout Europe. In 1974 while I was overseas – and as our father had predicted – the U.S. withdrew our last military forces from Vietnam.

A young man in a white t-shirt at a desk with gun parts laid out in front of him.

Me in Army Basic Training in 1972.

An older U.S. soldier seated at a table, looking casually over his left soldier toward the camera.

Major William L. Boggs Behind the Lines in Vietnam in 1966.

In 1975, I returned from Europe and exited the service. My first visit to the parents’ house turned up some surprising changes. Nowhere in my parents’ den were displayed any of the souvenirs or trophies of war that had been on view two years previously. The captured Viet Cong flag that hung in that den (the flag having been presented to the Colonel after his unit was victorious in a battle of largely his strategic design) was conspicuously absent. During the evening, we had drinks and dinner and extensive conversation, and none of it had a single word to do with war. Any veering towards that topic was firmly rerouted towards those of education, or family, or the future.

It would be years before my father and I would engage at length about the war. By then it was not surprising to see him smile broadly and say that one of his great joys was seeing that neither Mike nor I were casualties of Vietnam.

As a father, and now a grandfather, I understand completely how he, as a valiant and decorated career warrior, weighed the factors involved and arrived at the conclusions and recommendations that he did.

For that I am eternally grateful.

Biographical Details

Primary Location During Vietnam: Military Brat, so all over the place Vietnam location marker

Story Subject: Family

This submission is part of Stories of Gratitude.
Go to the collection.

Story Themes: 32nd Infantry Regiment, Children of Veterans, Cross of Gallantry, Dissent, Draft, Enlisting, Family, Infantry, Multiple Tours, Relationships, Silver Star

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