Testing the Bitch-Slap

The other day I went to a panel discussion with a group of five Vietnam Vets. Every year for the past 25 years they have been coming to the high school to talk to the students about their experiences. These men pull no punches. They lay it on the line and speak some uncomfortable truths. I'm sure there are plenty of people who just don' t want to know the dirty bits of war, but these men lived through that whether they volunteered for it or not.

The men talked about joining up and coming home. They talked about what they saw and did and did not do. They talked about this current war and what that means for this new generation. They didn't mess around.

They talked to the students about the role of the media then and now. The students didn't seem to understand that what they see on tv isn't an accurate representation of what is really happening in Iraq and Afganistan.

"What you see on tv isn't even one tenth of one percent of what is really going on," one of the men said. "When was the last time you saw a disemboweled body of a soldier on tv? It happens every day in Iraq. And they just can't show you what it smells like. That's what I'll never forget. The smell."

One of the men was in information. He said he would go out with Walter Cronkite and his film crew. That night their story about the mission would appear on the evening news. He said he didn't recognize the mission. What he saw standing next to Cronkite and what Cronkite reported had nothing to do with each other. The war became about the numbers - VC killed compared to our soldiers. "It became a football game," he said. "I'll tell you this I always hated the term 'Light Causualties.' There's no such thing when you are the causualty."

At the end of the discussion, one of the men read a passage from his book. He wrote about his experieces as a grunt in Vietnam. The students who arrived chatty with their talk of summer vacation listened to him read about comeing home in complete silence. I've never heard a quieter classroom filled with students. They responded to his emotional reading with resounding applause. Afterwards many of the students went to the front to shake the men's hands.

When the students finally left I went to talk with the them.

"Sorry about bashing the media like that," one of the guys said.

"Believe me, I wasn't offeded. I'm not anything like Cronkite. I'm what's known as a 'lesser journalist,'" I said.

"Not in our eyes," one vet said. "All you have to do is tell the truth."

I do my best.

When I got back to the office, the news room was full of talk. The editors were both gone and we were busy, as usual, but that never stops us. We were talking about our big stories, our hardest interviews and the good and bad editors we've had. One reporter talked about a murder that happened at his college campus. He ended up meeting big, angry football players in dark parking lots. Others were bizarre stories of oddball crimes. Then the conversation switched to what it takes to be a good paper, a good editor, a good journalist. One reporter talked about an editor who never stood up for her reporters, who always played it safe and never risked offending some portion of the readership.

"Jesus! Grow some balls!" I growled.

"Yeah! What she said," one of my more conservative colleagues laughed.

I can't stand sticking my neck out and then getting executed infront of our readers. My editor, he's pretty good. He stands up for us when he needs to and never lets us down when we need him most. Thank God for that.

Of couse with that Vietnam Vet story I'm giving him a little trouble. One of the Vets talked about some of the kids testing them with questions that are meant to get a rise out of their classmates.

"That's when we bitch-slap them back into place," the vet said. ("I don't think you can put that in the paper," he immediatly said. "I know," I answered. "But I'm gonna try.")

We'll have to see if the "bitch-slap" makes it into print.

Small joys for a Lesser Journalist.

TARB