BRYAN KENNEDY,
Madam, - Thirty-five years ago, crouched in a sandbagged trench, I was a US Marine sergeant, gazing up in horror at a massive mushroom cloud brilliantly ascending into the black velvet void of an Indo-Chinese midnight.
As AK-47 fire started to rake through the spirals of German razor tape and Claymore mines fronting our perimeter defences, the flak-jacketed troops next to me braced ourselves for the inevitable atomic shock wave.
My platoon and I were convinced that a tactical thermonuclear device had just exploded above the palm-fringed apron of beach holding back the South China Sea from the sprawling US Marine Corps combat base at Chu Lai. It was the first night of Tet, the Lunar New Year of 1968.
We survived that night. The mushroom cloud was non-atomic. Communist sappers had penetrated the mines and razor wire to detonate over 100,000 cubic feet of bullets, grenades, bombs, rockets, napalm and artillery shells.
But that memory of war's utter futility is forever flash-burned into my mind. With the help of family and friends, I have managed to cope since the end of my tour, unlike more than 100,000 Vietnam veterans who have committed suicide.
That's why I marched in Dublin on February 15th. For my 58,000 fallen comrades who died on the battlefields of south-east Asia. For the 477,000 Vietnam vets whom the US government has classified as "psychiatrically incapacitated" by post-traumatic stress disorder. For the 300,000 soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines who served in Vietnam and have since languished in America's jails, penitentiaries, and prisons since the end of that conflict. For the half-a-million blameless Vietnamese peasants who died in their fields and rice paddies.
I marched not to embarrass America nor to give succour to Saddam Hussein. Not to denounce Bush or Blair, the Taoiseach or the Tánaiste. Like the vast majority of families and individuals, I marched to say that war is not the answer. It is the ultimate breakdown in communication between nations.
In this broadband era of high-speed messaging in which Ireland is a major "player", it is a rebuke of both humanity and our genius to support resolving the ongoing crisis in Iraq by resorting to the madness of war and its soul-numbing, long term ramifications for both combatants and innocent civilians alike. - Yours, etc.,
BRYAN KENNEDY,
Rushbrooke,
Cobh,
Co Cork.
Madam, - The French are fair game. One can be as rude as one likes about them (e.g. Chris Johns in your edition of February 26th) and no one will call you racist. They themselves merely shrug their shoulders - after all, they are big boys now.
But why does that not apply to the US? Why, before adversely commenting on something from there, must one begin: "I am not anti-American but. . ,"; or: "Some of my best friends are Americans"; or: "While fully recognising the fundamental contribution of the US to world peace, freedom, democracy, etc., I would like to point out . . ."?
What is it about these people, so prone to shout "We are the greatest" and insist that we all agree, that they cannot take criticism? Instead for many of them criticism is viewed as a hostile attack, deserving retribution!
And how is it that a nation more than 200 years old has the combined swagger and sensitivity of an adolescent? - Yours, etc.,
MICHAEL PURSER,
Strand Road,
Killiney,
Co Dublin.
Madam, - In light of the recent Turkish vote, is it now time to wage war on weapons of mass democracy? - Yours, etc.,
JOHN MAHON,
Kenilworth Park,
Dublin 6W.