Bob Gilbert, Vietnam veteran, speaks of his war journey

By Mark J. Yablonsky

HAMBURG — The Vietnam War still remains a troubled time for America. It was an era when respect for servicemen and others began to crumble and when the nation found itself trapped in a war where many battles were won, but where the overall picture itself was out of reach.

Hamburg resident Bob Gilbert was a part of it, and he too, carries unforgettable memories of what it was all about. He served America in a war no one wanted and in a war Congress never officially declared.

From Dec. 31, 1966 to December 1967 Gilbert lived, breathed and dealt with everything around him in a land where survival was the key.

The war in Indochina, as it was also called by many, pitted a hostile northern sector of the foreign nation against a southern half bogged down by corruption, utter poverty and even apathy at times.

Starting in the 1950s, America began taking an interest, later sending military advisers and eventually combat troops.

Gilbert, now 65, grew up in Bergen County, and as an Emerson High School junior in 1963, he had never even heard of Vietnam — until his history teacher warned his class that within two years time, 20 percent of the male population of that class would be in the armed forces.

In February 1965, Gilbert, then a senior at Emerson High, received a letter from the U.S. government instructing him to take a physical, while he was still in school. At that time, conscription was a way of life in the United States and only those in either college or in certain businesses could avoid it.

"It was then I knew I was going to be drafted," Gilbert said.

Gilbert, after his graduation in June 1965, began looking for a job, but found himself confronted by a big problem.

"You couldn't get a decent job because everyone knew you were going to be drafted," he recalls. "Back in '65, going to college wasn't so prominent. But now, you practically have to have a degree just to dump garbage."

He took a job operating machines in a company that was contractually involved with the government to make gears for U.S. Air Force planes and was paid $1.65 an hour, which was then 40 cents an hour higher than the minimum wage of $1.25. What's more, he had an exemption from the draft as long as he worked there. But he grew unhappy with the job and left it.

"The job was horrible," Gilbert said. "Plus, you have to understand I was 19 and I thought that maybe I wouldn't be drafted."

Gilbert then tried out a couple different jobs before pursuing the possibility of attending a local college. However, in early April 1966, a notice arrived in the mail — his draft notice.

After basic training and nine months of preparation, Gilbert found himself on a train heading for Oakland, Cali. where a ship was waiting to take him and his fellow soldiers to Vietnam. Gilbert remembers that as the train passed through Berkeley, he had to turn down his window shades since by then, rioters at the local college had taken to hurling stones at military men.

Landing at Vung Tau on Dec. 31, 1966, the men began arriving on shore by landing craft since the ship was anchored a good distance from shore. The soldiers, fearing that they were being called on to make a frontal invasion, got scared and some even became sick.

The next day, New Year's Day 1967, Gilbert and his mates saw a Vietcong body hanging upside down, being beaten by men drinking beer. "Man, this is going to be one long year," Gilbert recalled a fellow solider saying.

In short, that one year was filled with fear and horror, as the nightmarish scenes and events of the war took shape.

"We were all green," Gilbert said. "Even our officers were green. It was a scary thing because we felt we had no way of surviving this. If we killed an ample amount of them, they rewarded us with steak and beer. The realty of fear filled our hearts every day we were in 'Nam."

A year later, having survived physically, Gilbert returned home to a country that was anything but grateful. Aside from family and close friends, about all a returning soldier could expect were jeers, derision and even outright hostility.

Gilbert tried to enter college again, but by then, universities and colleges were filled to a maximum by students desperate to escape the war and the draft. Five years later, the U.S. found "peace with honor," in the words of President Richard Nixon, and the draft was ended. Two years later, in April 1975, the end came when the communists concurred the south and Saigon fell.

Gilbert later found work in fire restoration projects, air conditioning and heating, and even went to work for PSE&G as a service technician. He retired in 2000.

Today, Gilbert is proudly active with the Vietnam Veterans of America, Wallkill Chapter 1002. But having been exposed to the deadly defoliant chemical named Agent Orange, he must monitor his health carefully since he suffers from at least partial hearing loss, leukemia and heart problems. He recently was treated successfully for lung cancer and has coped with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder for more than 44 years.

"We lost many American soldiers, too many; but we would have lost far more had we not taken a stand," Gilbert stated. "The Vietnam War is said to be the war which never ended. But it ended for us; we succeeded in diminishing the intrusion of Communism across Indochina at that time. It is sad to realize that there were many Americans who did not have that realization."

However, Gilbert also felt that America's brave warriors didn't get what they deserved. "Our leaders let us down, militarily and politically," he said. "There were too many restrictions. You're there to win. Do you think they're obeying the rules? I survived the war, but never the illnesses."

Gilbert, having suffered from the effects of Agent Orange, notes some studies that suggest it takes up to seven generations to be rid of the dreaded after-effects. He can be reached at his website, gilbob1@embarqmail.com for those wishing more information and concern.

"I'm just one of all other victims," he concluded. "This means a lot to me."