John Salandi
 

Well, as I told one of my friends back here in the world once, “When you’ve been in a war, everything else is pretty much an anticlimax.” But I’ve been going on in this anticlimactic state for the last 36 years.

After I left Vietnam, I was assigned to the 2d Psychological Operations Battalion at the Center for Special Warfare in Fort Bragg, North Carolina. I really lucked out, because this was Green Beret stuff and I was fortunate enough to end up in the only non-Green Beret outfit. And, although we specialized in writing propaganda, the place was staffed with writers and media types; just like the creative malcontents I was used to working with in the First Cav. But it was a real shock adjusting to the stateside Army -- I was definitely not used to people telling me to get a haircut, keep my boots polished, my gig line straight, etc. You wouldn’t believe the Mickey Mouse stuff we put up with. One of my cherished memories was when we had a parade for some reason, and the commanding general didn’t like the way we (the 2d Psyops Battalion) marched, so he ordered us to practice marching and manual of arms every day after work. Then we had another parade every Saturday morning until he was satisfied we could march properly.

And they made us take PT tests, go to the rifle range to qualify again, etc., etc. But overall, I didn’t have too bad a job. I became the battalion clerk, so I worked directly for the CO, the XO and the battalion Sergeant Major. In a lot of ways it was similar to the job I had in Vietnam with two major exceptions: we had AIR CONDITIONING and NO ONE WAS SHOOTING AT US.

After my ETS in September 1970, I kicked around for awhile at the Jersey Shore collecting unemployment and enjoying myself. There was a whole crew of Vietnam vets who used to get together at the unemployment office. I do have to say there were a few guys in really bad shape mentally and were suffering what we now know as post traumatic stress disorder. But finally, I had to bite the bullet and get a job. I started working at the Prudential Insurance Company figuring I’d only stay until I could get a good job. Well, that lasted 28 years and I’d probably still be there, except they sold our business to Aetna Inc. So I have been at Aetna for the last six years, having survived several waves of downsizing and will probably be here until I retire, which may be any day now. I have had a fairly satisfying career doing all kinds of different jobs and have enjoyed it for the most part. I have been married for 24 years and have now moved back to the nice quiet rural area I grew up in in northwest New Jersey (near Hackettstown, where they still make all the M&M’s in the world!!). I like it now for all the reasons I wanted to move away when I was 20.

I have been lucky enough to travel around most areas of the country, either on business or vacation, except for the Southwest. Coincidentally, since my older brother moved to the Kalispell area in 1972, I was a frequent visitor to that area for most of the 1970’s, usually at Christmas. (Flying into Montana in the winter is always an adventure.) And I even spent one summer out there (1973) helping my brother cut down trees for a campground we were trying to open. When that fell threw, my brother, who was a pharmacist and could easily find work there, decided to stay. But since I just had that old political science degree, which meant I had no skills, and I certainly knew I didn’t want to be a lumberjack or a cowboy, I headed back for the safety and comfort of New Jersey. I have to say that while I enjoyed Montana, I missed getting the New York Times every day, and having more than two TV channels and two radio stations (both AM). Things are probably are a lot different now, with the internet and cable.

I could write pages and pages of stories about what I remember from Vietnam. Some of it was a bit raunchy but I have to say I can’t remember any job I have done that was as interesting as my job there, nor do I remember ever having worked with a cast of characters like the guys I knew over there. Plus all the news media types we dealt with. Honestly, I would have loved to stay forever, except for the fact that there was a war going on around us and I’m really chicken.

But I will leave you with one tantalizing item. Somewhere in the various e-mails and other stuff we’ve gotten, someone stated that no one knows what “JD” stands for. While I don’t know about the D, but I do know about the J. But I’m not telling because I almost had my head handed to me when I put it on some official Army document once and I’m still afraid of him.

One unofficial nudge – As some of you know, I have kidney failure and have been on hemodyalisis for the past five years. I am on a waiting list for a kidney transplant. I am one of 60,000 people. If you are not an organ donor, get out your pen and sign an organ donor card now. And tell your family that’s what you want. That’s important, because even with a donor card, your family must consent. You can save countless lives! And you won’t miss anything.