Classified Documents

     "With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds. . . ."

               John F. Kennedy Inauguration speech

Larry Slessler, the author of today's Guest Post, told me that he didn't have photos of himself in Vietnam. This is partly because his work was secret and for several years after leaving the service he was not allowed to visit--or even fly over--a Communist country. It was partly, too, because he didn't want souvenirs or remembrances. He doubted that our country was doing the "God's work" JFK called on Americans to do.

Dept. of Justice Property Receipt for 33 boxes of materials

Slessler shared a story about duty to one's country, made current because of the Top Secret material the FBI sought and retrieved from Mar-a-Lago. He thought our whole effort in Vietnam was FUBAR, but while he was there, doing his job, he was supposed to defend classified materials at the cost of his life. Slessler was ten years ahead of me at Medford High School. Much of his post-service career was devoted to helping veterans readjust and thrive in civilian life.


Guest Post by Larry Slessler

During my tour in Vietnam (1965 - 1966) my small Intelligence unit was located in a compound on the outskirts of Saigon. The compound was in an old, rather small, French Villa converted to wartime usage that included the usual barricaded look of barbed wire, outer walls with broken glass firmly emplaced on top to discourage climbing, and the normal barricaded look of thousands of wartime structures. A lot of the time I was away on duty in various other parts of the country. When I would return to home base, I would automatically be inserted on a rotation of all-night guard duty. This duty assignment roster was made up of all the Enlisted men and Officers Lieutenant thru Major. 

A quirk in our arrangement was, except for the all-night duty person, sleeping quarters were located in other compounds. We traveled back and forth in jeeps from duty station to other locations when not on duty. Our Full Colonel Commanding Officer was attempting to change our arrangements and location. However, this was early in the war and we were doing the best we could and not what was best for safety and survival. Years later Donald Rumsfeld said something like: You go to war with what you have not what you might want. 

My closest buddy was Mike; a Polish American Jew. It seems every Polish last name is a jumble of mixed up letters ending in “Ski.” My German name Slessler becomes “Sless.” To most we were Sless and Ski. Intel units, in my experience, are short on military formality. Except for the Colonel we were all on first and/or nickname basis. When Ski or I had duty the other would stay on with them. It was a silent, but powerful, expression of the love and friendship between Lt.“Ski” and Lt. “Sless.” We were pledging our life to each other. We all knew that if the compound was attacked the duty person would be killed. We simply lacked the firepower to mount a successful defense.

So why the duty roster? The compound had a windowless room that contained files of highly classified documents pertinent to our mission. The night-duty man had the unit's 45 caliber sub-machine gun. In a close area it was a deadly weapon. Other than the sub-machine gun we had regular-issue rifles and side arms.

If we were attacked the duty man had one primary job. He was to use thermite grenades to destroy the classified material and then fight for his life. We were 100% certain an attack would end in our death. Our life was the sacrifice for denying the enemy our classified materials. I both resented that and understood it at the same time.

Like every day in Vietnam, night guard duty was just one more fucked-up day on a 365 day fucked-up tour. I knew I would go home. I just didn’t know if it would be under my own power, on a stretcher, or in a body bag.

In 1966 I left Vietnam for a new assignment, a 3 year tour in Hawaii in a Pacific Command Vietnam war support and planning role. That assignment included two temporary assignments (TDY’s) back to Vietnam. Both sucked.

In 1967 I flew home to Oregon for my 10-year High School reunion. I have never felt more alone and isolated. I am sure I was only Viet Vet attending. I had a 90-year old man’s brain in a 27-year old body; mixing with other 27 and 28 year old classmates. I might as well have been from Mars.

I have a severe gut and heart reaction to the former President's disregard over protection of classified material. Thousands of dedicated military and civilian men and woman have risked their lives, some have died, collecting and protecting Intelligence vital to the defense and freedom of our nation. Trump’s callous disregard is an insult to the service and life of the men and women of this great nation that have put it all on the line for our country.

 

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