The Moonstone Girls by Brooke Skipstone

Author:Brooke Skipstone
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781737006435
Publisher: Skipstone Publishing

CHAPTER 15

YELLOW SOCKS FOREVER

On January 31, 1968, the communists launched surprise attacks throughout South Vietnam with 85,000 troops. Though American soldiers soon regained lost villages and cities, the American public was shocked. Many realized all the optimistic statements by General Westmoreland had been lies. If the enemy were nearly defeated, how could they be storming the American Embassy and fighting in the streets of Saigon?

On the first day of the Tet Offensive, Westmoreland announced we had killed 10,000 enemy soldiers while only losing 249. These lopsided counts had been fed to the American public for years, but in light of what we were seeing on TV, many doubted their accuracy. If we were killing so many of the enemy, why did our military want to send 200,000 more troops?

Which meant more draftees, increasing Spencer's chances of going to the war.

Walter Cronkite, the CBS News anchor whom Dad watched every night he was home because he was a “straight-shooter”and unbiased, went to Vietnam in February and returned to air a one-hour broadcast on February 27 after another 1500 American deaths. All of us watched the show and heard Cronkite declare the war a stalemate whose ending could only be negotiated.

We could not win.

I grabbed Spencer’s hand and saw his terrified eyes glued to the television.

Dad cursed Cronkite, jumped out of his chair, and immediately turned the channel. “The media is going to lose this war!”

“Because he’s telling the truth?” I said. “I thought Cronkite was ‘the most trusted man in America.’ Is he a liar now?”

He glared at me. “I guess you and all your anti-war commie friends will be jumping for joy in the streets. Walter Cronkite’s on your side now!”

“Art, please,” Mom pleaded from the sofa.

My blood boiled. I stood, ready to rush him, but Spencer tightened his grip on my hand. “Do you want Spencer to fight in that war? Do you? Would that make you proud?”

He stood in front of the television, folded his arms, and tightened his eyes. “I’m proud of the soldiers I fly over there, and especially proud of those I fly back to the States. I’d be just as proud of your brother if he were in my plane.”

I yanked my hand away from Spencer, who now stared at Dad with such pain in his eyes. “In a body bag or a seat, or does it matter to you? What if he's not on your plane? Would you be just as proud of him?”

Dad tilted his head and smirked. “Do you mean because he dodged the draft? Or burned his card, like your friends do? No, I wouldn't be proud of that.”

“You fucking bastard!” I ran toward him.

Spencer jumped up from the sofa and grabbed me from behind. “Tracy! No. He’s not worth it.”

Dad flinched and raised his hands in fear, turning his face.

“Scared of a girl?” I sneered.

He lifted his chin, as if to affirm his manhood.

“Of a lesbian, queer, gay girl, no less?” I taunted.

“Please, Tracy,” Mom begged.

Dad shook his head. “That sums you up, doesn’t it? What a daughter to be proud of.

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