-q-p-~ ~7-w~-~ -~ - -'-V Page 6-Sunday, April 16, 1978-The Michigan Daily ROOK They're not all the san VIETNAM: Two sdes of a tragedy By Jim TobinM GOING AFTER CACCIATO by Tim O'Brien Delacorte Press, 338 pp., $8.95 DISPATCHES by Michael Herr Alfred A. Knopf, 260 pp., $8.95 W ARS CHANGE after the last shot is fired. As the years of peace pass, they turn romantic and dramatic. They become tests of courage and ideals. At the very least, they fade in the memory; people forget that they were important. Vietnam is starting its own fade. With a spate of movies depicting American soldiers before and after their coming home, the war has taken the step from reality to drama. Graduating seniors this year do not worry about the draft. North Vietnam won the war three years ago, so there is no longer even fighting among only the Vietnamese, and Jim Tobin is a former co-editor in chief of The Daily. headlines look elsewhere in the world for conflict. There is no telling, yet, whether Americans learned from the war, whether Vietnam, like other tragic American wars, will command awe and romantic respect in coming generations. Two authors are worried over that prospect-Michael Herr, a journalist who covered Vietnam for Esquire, and Tim O'Brien, a fiction writer who was an infantryman there. Despite their own occasional flirtations with romanticization, these writers have tried to say, in effect, "Wait! Remember this war as it was!" Herr's book, Dispatches, is a com- pilation of some pieces he wrote for Esquire and the Rolling Stone. It is hardly conventional war corresponden- ce. Herr ignored American officers, finding his stories among the "grunts," the inarticulate foot soldiers, each coming to grips with the war in his own way.'Most of all, Dispatches is Herr's own reaction to the fighting, much of it written in a manic, run-on style that seems itself to be created out of that kind of war. Without equivocation, Herr detests the American commanders, but his feeling for .the "grunts" is a subtle combination of awe, pity, revulsion and deep affection: "Was it possible that they were there and not haunted?. No, not possible, not a chance, I know I wasn't the only one.. . . Disgust doesn't begin to describe what they made me feel, they threw people out of helicop- ters, tied people up and put the dogs on them. Brutality was just a word in my mouth before that. But disgust was only one color in the whole mandala, gentleness and pity were other colors, there wasn't a color left out. I think that those people who used to say that they only wept for the Vietnamese never really wept for anyone at all if they couldn't squeeze out at least one for these men and boys when they died or had their lives cracked open for them." All the correspondents in Vietnam saw what Herr saw, but what makes his perceptions so persuasive is that he sees all of those colors, not just the dark ones. Dispatches is nOt rabid polemic war; it is too broad for that. Upon finishing the book, one indeed is repulsed by the American experience in Vietnam, but not because its every aspect has been painted evil. Herr finds some goodness in the grunts and some beauty in the devastated country and the shining war machines. When I put down Dispatches it seemed that I had been there with Herr and learned what Vietnam was really like, felt its strange attractions as well as its terror. With a sense of both of these, the reader un- derstands the war's breadth in emotion-the mingling of egotism, fear, awe and sorrow. Herr did not spend a single day doing "investigative reporting." He was in- vestigating, instead, the war's feelings. He wrote about war dreams, his own and others', about the strophied euphemisms of American spokesmen See VIETNAM, Page 7 From within the inferno of war By Richard Berke IN THE MINDS of most students, the word ad- ministrator conjures up images of faceless, gray- suited non-entities plotting tuition hikes behind the medieval window slits of the Administration Building. After years of CRISP lines, service cut- backs, dorm rate increases and form letters, the student views the average University bureaucrat as an antagonist rather than a friend. In contrast to this popular conception, and in defiance of the conformist pressures inherent in a large bureaucracy, there is an administrator whose office walls are plastered with pictures of clowns, who took to the streets with students in anti-war protests, who has tried pot (but says he'd rather have a glass of vodka) and whose office door is always open to any student who wants to discuss a problem, sip wine, or just shoot the bull. Tom Easthope, Assistant Vice-President for Student Services, is a hard-nosed administrator who shows a uniquesconcern not only for long-range problems but also for the everydayannoyances that plague students. His department, the Office of Student Services (OSS) oversees a multitude of University functions - concerts, students groups, legal aid, psychiatric counseling. Itis essential that input from and feedback to the students be main- tained, and Easthope is an encouraging conduit. Although Easthope's official dutiesrcover staff and budget management for the OSS, Easthope says, "I get a great deal of satisfaction dealing with students - and that's what this place is all about." Easthope draws in students because he has an ap- proachable air about him. Not that he is an open- armed teddy bear or fatherly type - Easthope Js neither. He evokes a down-to-earth honesty, not coming on strong but emanating a subdued warmth. At the same time, Easthope is not afraid to challenge the people fromUniversity Activities Cen- ter (UAC) and Michigan Student Assembly (MSA) with whom he deals on a day-to-day basis. He says students sometimes put him on to see how far the 44- year-old, portly, rustachioed administrator will go. "They think somehow that you should be mealy- mouthed and not stand up and answer back," Easthope says. "I believe you know if you're going to put me on, I'm going to put you on right back." Says one MSA member: "At times I think he exer- cises a lot of control over MSA and UACand callsthe shots, which isn't the proper role of an administrator but he's good at it. He talks like a dumb hick, but that's an act. He's really sharp." E ASTHOPE's voice, reminiscent of the gravel- ly intonations of a gangster movie character, coupled with the fact that he lacks the ad- vanced college degrees which are usually part of the credentials of college administrators, tend to cause people to underestimate him. For instance, there's the case of the big-time Detroit rock promoter who was involved in presen- ting the Bob Dylan concert at Crisler Arena in 1974. When tickets went on sale, eager fans discovered that seats in the first 15 rows were not available. It was widely suspected that the promoter planned to scalp those seats for higher prices and bigger profits, although he tried to snow Easthope with pleas of in- nocence. The promoter, described by Easthope as a "sleazy operator," soon found his name in the papers and the ties with the University severed. "You have to be vigilant," Easthope explains, "becausepeople come on and run funny games on you. Somehow they think, 'we're dealing with these college kids and we'll put one by them and slide out with some extra bread.' Bull! "We don't give credence to people coming out here for rip-offs with students who are captive." Part of the reason for Easthope's empathy with students stems from the fact that he is one himself - the father of six children, he is currently working towards a graduate degree in educational psychology. It's highly unlikely that Easthope Daily Photo by JOHN KNOX "You have to be vigilant, because people come in and run funny games on you. Some- how they think, 'we're dealing with these college kids and we'll put one by them and slide out with some extra bread. 'Bull! "We don 't give credence to people coming out hereffor rip- offs with students who are cap- tive. Tom Easthope, Assistant Vice- President for Student Services imagined he'd be in this position 20 years ago when he was a paper-pushing desk jockey for Bendix cor- poration after graduating from the University of Detroit. Students who deal with him now can hardly see him caught up in making money and climbing up the cor- porate ladder. And eventually, Easthope came to grips with the reality that he wasn't cut out for in- dustry. It was the civil rights and anti-war movements that pulled hi He says he began to rea concerns lay in what wa fines of his office. "When I was in the Sou I saw segregated faciliti4 thrown off the bus becaus bus. And those made pr but I blocked them wh ahead," he recalls. But such incidents be awareness in Easthope social turmoil of the 60s. He began paying mo] tivity. Several of his c decade, leading him to p nam. "Whenever there was run out from lunch and run back to do my job," ministrator. "It seemed was really nervous abo personnel job with Ben kids coming in with 1 profane and they were d average crewcut that h was kind of interested t all about." Easthope heard that t Services at the Universi met with him and found career. Though the corp Easthope's speech, littl mentality. For one thing the much more democr at the University. "It's not your normal boss says blue is yellow, yellow . . . in a unive operation." Easthope a chance to make their r that he has never been i ministration positions. Strangely enough, Ea tured the support of his I as that of students-a fe tingly, Easthope's office insulated walls of th rather it is in the Union to everyone. The office, furniture, seems design( walls are festooned wit clowns (a favorite East traffic and pedestrians dow overlooking State surrounding himself wit stantly reminded not t even carries a clown dra Easthope is a landlori typical one. Years bac plained to him about th Arbor. Easthope made they moved in and pai friend had put up for sa Dewey House (named since been occupied I student government, M Cellar people. Easthop houses as well, but bal "I don't have a house quarter," he declares. But, although Easth students feel at home door, he is not condesc dress and speech of his be spiced with an occas does little to affect a h vative ties and jackets doesn't try to hide the mustache. "To be relevant does them. I mean, to be abl job in this kind of en' have to be a student," mean you got to accept are. I think a lot of tin understanding students likestudents is unders ply not true." A RUMOR OF WAR By Philip Caputo Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 346 pp. $10.00 He is come to open the purple testament of bleeding war. William Shakespeare, King Richard THERE ARE few things more ab- horrent than priests, ministers or rabbis soothing the moral tribulations of soldiers engaged in war. In past can- turies, soldiers fought with the emotional, purging ferocity of direct. combat. One could see, hear and lay hands on the enemy. Spiritual questions could by conveniently shunted aside for the enemy was distinctly marked and designated, and usually appeared on a convenient plane of combat. The Viet Cong, however, were phan- toms of the jungle. This enemy seldom dressed like a soldier, refused to openly identify himself, and was rarely seen. When the enemy is an image which can be incinerated by a voice on a radio, is he a champion of a murderous opposing ideology? Or is he merely the deadly avatar of the ambitions of perverted politicians? It comes as no surprise that in A Rumor of War Phillip Caputo, who at- tended parochial schools in his youth, takes particular ethical exception to a war prophesied by Thomas Carlyle in The French Revolution: "Battles in these ages are transacted by mechanism ... men now even die, and kill one another in an artificial man- ner." The confusion of the participants, the citizens and the strategists (moral and military) during the Vietnam period is central4oEaputos narrative. We might ask, why has no key By Steve Bennish 'The Vietnam war had no reason. It was madness. And its madness so as- sailed the minds of Americans that it was not a war, but became instead only a rumor o fwar.' statesman, journalist or philosopher emerged from this war (as has been the case in past wars) to offer an em- bodiment of our participation? It's .simple: to represent an historical syn-' thesis (as Eisenhower did), one must evolve and maintain an underlying reason. The Vietnam war had no reason. It was madness. And its mad- ness so assailed the minds of Americans that it was not a war, but became in- stead only a rumor of war. Thus we find no explanations in the many books which comprise the Vietnam era recollections genre, only narratives like A Rumor of War. As a description of the experience of battle, the book is brilliant, lucid and devastating. A Rumor of War, taken as an -updated combat narrative, more than adequately upholds the tradition of the foot soldier's diary. Caputo's background was exceptional. Most of Vietnam's combatants had not atten- ded college; many did not complete high school. Caputo did both. He rejec- ted the prospect 'of "the good life," which he regarded as suburban com- placency, for the high adventure of combat which was exemplified in his mind by the war movies and adventure novels of his adolescence. As he later wrote, "war is attractive to young men who know nothing about it. . ." It was unfortunate, he was later to find, that real war has no background music. CERTAINLY the book's most in- teresting aspect is the way in which the American soldier came to partake in the behavior and mores of the Vietnamese soldiery - men ravaged by war for decades. American soldiers found themselves, by necessity, living in conditions similar to their Viet Cong counterparts. Military strategists discovered late in their careers the error of fighting guerrillas as one would fight a conventional op- ponent. Thus, before the grand tactics of the conflict were altered to fight this new kind of enemy, the American soldiers themselves had to learn to adopt new methods of warfare. In most -cases, -emulating' their 'aitagpfists' cunning brutality. William Calley is perhaps the most infamous example. Long before Calley, the Viet Cong had begun the practice of slaughtering suspect populations. (Caputo's com- patriots fell prey to this malady, and narrowly escaped prosecution.) Perhps the book's most thought- provoking passage is the description of "a ballet of death between a lone, naked man and a remorseless machine." It is profoundly symbolic of the conventions of the war and the supreme irony of its final outcome. Engaged in combat on a helicopter landing zone, Lieut. Caputo calls in for an air strike to eliminate mortar-launching Viet Cong. In come three Skyhawk fighter planes, dropping their napalm bombs on the enemy; a deluge of high technology which in- spires one Viet Cong soldier to address the gods themselves: we see the Viet Cong behind the dike sit- ting up with his arms outstretched, in the pose of a man beseeching God. He seems to be pleading for mercy from the screaming mass of technology that is flying no more. than one hundred feet above him. But the plane swoops down on him, fires its cannon once more, and blasts him to shreds. Having, by force of technology, arrived at the reins of power previously held only by the gods, one wonders which side of the two opposing super- natural forces Americans have chosen to join. Reading Caputo's book makes this question clear, vivid and im- perative. While our power awes our enemies, we seem to have lost the "divinely reinforced" assurance with which we entered the Viet Nam era. Through this revelation, Caputo hopes his book may prevent the next generattiew frm beirig crucified iti a m aningless war. R ic h rd B saaily.. s.n + 4 !. t aftr.- . . ,. . Richard Berke is a Daily staff writer. Daffy Photo by JOHN KNOX