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Winston Carbonneau - Coming to Grips with the Vietnam War
by Scott Wheeler
Winston Carbonneau of Derby is still learning to come to grips with the horrors of the Vietnam War and the treatment bestowed upon him upon his return to the United States.
Many of the Americans who fought in the Vietnam War were little more than teenagers, some of them drafted right out of high school. Others dropped out of school to serve their country. When Winston Carbonneau of Derby was in Vietnam, his only child, a son, Frank, was already in basic training, hoping to follow in his father’s footsteps.
Carbonneau was a member of the U.S. Army 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile).
Born in Newport to Frank and Beatrice Carbonneau, Winston Carbonneau joined the Army in 1952. He arrived in Korea during the final throws of that war. Fifteen years later, the seasoned veteran was shipped off to fight in the early days of a new conflict – the Vietnam War. Carbonneau served as a platoon sergeant with the U.S. Army 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile). During his two tours of duty took part in some of the fiercest fighting of the war. Among the medals awarded to him while in Vietnam were the Bronze Star medal for heroism and the Purple Heart as the result of a gunshot wound he suffered while in combat.
The Derby man kept a diary while in Vietnam and wrote home often. The following is a letter he wrote to his son, Frank, who was in basic training at the time.
Dear Son:
Am happy to know that you are doing ok. But am very sad that Mom is alone. Son, are you coming to Viet Nam when you’re done training? I hope you don’t come here.
I am very worried. I almost got killed on the 26 of January. A bullet went right through my steel pot and helmet liner right in the back end where the neckband is. But don’t ever tell Mom. She has enough worry.
Well, son, I made my E7 stripe. So now I’m a P.S.G. {Platoon Sergeant} I also got my own platoon. Not bad, huh?
Take good care son and don’t go with the eight balls or duds. Do what the sergeants tell you to do and you will come out on top. Son, I was fighting like hell on the 26-27-28 and I got your letter on the battlefield. We had one hell of a bloody, muddy battle and this all happened as we crossed a rice patty and entered a graveyard. There we fought for three days. Believe me son, I said many prayers. Don’t ever miss Mass on Sunday. Please go son. God sure helps me
It’s not a pretty sight to carry your buddy in a poncho. I had to carry my buddy and I was hurt deep inside. Don’t ever make good buddies because when they get killed it hurts. Our battle lasted for 16 days. No sleep, no chow sometimes. But we didn’t’ mind. I shot three VCs and Pavon. The Pavon are the enemy we don’t like to fight for they train just like us. The only thing here is guerilla warfare. Don’t know where they’re going to hit next. They hid (the snipers) in a coconut tree tied at the top and believe me, you couldn’t see them, and this I did not like. If ever you’re told to walk a crawl through a mud hole, do it son because over here we all did. We don’t like it, but it saved our life.
Well my son, I’ll close. I miss you very much and I hope I can see you before you leave the states. Take real good care and, son, don’t go AWOL. What I mean is don’t listen to no dud and get talked into it, ok? Mom is very lonely as she said in her letter.
Bye son, I’ll make it home alive so don’t worry about Dad, ok? Take good care. God Bless and Take Care for me.
Love,
Dad
P.S. – Write me son.
Others of his writings appear to show a man struggling to make sense of the war and the horrors it brought. This is an excerpt of a short story he wrote titled, Any American Combat Soldier.
Where is Viet Nam? What is Viet Nam? Why is the United States there? Ask him where it is and he will tell you it is a little below hell. It is a place where the days are long and the sun burns hot. It is a place where the nights are longer and the darkness lonelier.
Viet Nam is a place where you do not eat hot food, a place where you don’t feel clean. It is a disease that reeks of blood and burning flesh. Viet Nam is a place where a friend is found and lost all in a moment. It is a place that makes you realize that for all its faults, it is a good place, a secure place. It makes you believe in some things, things that you can’t have there.
Ask him what Viet Nam is and he will tell you it is poison. It is spreading, charging, killing and dreadful. It is a woman and child who scream as their babies are torn apart as their hearts stop beating. It is a jungle filled with snakes that wait for you to make the wrong step.
It gives you hate and transforms you into an animal that hunts and is hunted. Viet Nam waits for you, your brother, and your son….
In a letter to the Newport Daily in 1965, Carbonneau lashes out at war protesters. The following is an excerpt from that letter.
All of us over here are shocked at the activities of the protesters and draft card burners. These loud-mouthed protestors should be shipped to Viet Nam to get a taste of fighting instead of fighting with their mouths. Here we are doing our part for our country, fighting Viet Cong and them demonstrating. They aren’t helping the cause one bit.
Let President Johnson ship them all over here and then they can still demonstrate in Viet Nam. Let them eat C-rations, fight off the Viet Cong, snakes, spiders, etc., and then watch a buddy next to them die from snipe bullets…
Upon Carbonneau’s return to the United States, instead of getting a “thank you”, he and many other servicemen were harassed by protesters, spit on, and taunted with calls of “baby killers”.
“That still bothers me to this day,” Carbonneau said. “I resent the way I was treated.”
Carbonneau retired from the Army in 1972 with about 20 years of service to his country. His son, Frank, was never deployed to Vietnam.
After retirement, Carbonneau and his wife, Ida, moved back to Orleans County. Winston began a career in law enforcement, first with the Newport City Police Department, then with the Orleans County Sheriff’s Department. Ida passed away in 1996. In time he married his current wife, Regina.
He talks openly about the fact that memories of the war haunted him for many years after the rest of the world were trying to put the war behind them. Some nights he’d wake up in bed to see visions of enemy soldiers in his bedroom. Then, he said, with professional support, he learned the secrets to ridding the nights of the enemy – to talk about his wartime experiences.
Almost 40 years later, Carbonneau tears up quickly when he thinks about all the friends he lost in the war, and how his country treated its Vietnam veterans when they returned home. And sometimes the visions of the enemy return to haunt his nights in a never-ending battle to come to grips with the war. However, he said he has come a long ways towards healing, and he looks forward to the gathering at the Elks on May 26 as just another step in that healing process.
