An Honorable Illusion: A Memoir

By Kurt Chismark

An Honorable Illusion-A Memoir, is a powerful story about a young man's one-year journey into manhood as a U.S. Army officer in combat in Vietnam in 1970.
Kurt Michael Chismark was the product of a middle class, conservative, Catholic family from Syracuse, New York -- patriotic, religious, hardworking, and idealistic. After graduating from an Ivy League school when the Vietnam War was at its peak, he enlisted in the Army and earned his commission as a 2nd Lieutenant. After Airborne and Special Forces training, he was surprisingly assigned to the infamous 173rd Airborne Brigade to be a platoon leader, replacing one who had just been killed.
He led search and destroy missions to engage the enemy and free the Vietnamese people from communism. His platoon trekked tirelessly through mountainous jungles, and later through populated hamlets and villages. Regularly, they patrolled through lethal minefields, hunting and being hunted by a determined Viet Cong enemy that was aided by a hostile populace. His haunting accounts are as intriguing, thought provoking, and relevant today as they were back then. Relive his journey to manhood that changed him forever --a journey of ambiguity, confusion, guilt, and sorrow; as well as one of courage, faith, love, and honor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 11, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477213643

Kurt Chismark

Kurt Michael Chismark, has worked for the past decade as Executive Director of two member organizations of Catholic Charities of Sacramento. He is a “Leadership Fellow” of the Sierra Health Foundation Health Leadership Program and an Outpost Leader for Point Man International Ministries, a Christian faith-based “Veterans helping Veterans” group that provides fellowship, mutual support, and spiritual counseling for combat veterans and their families. He also serves on the Board of Directors of “Welcome Home Vets,” a Nevada County, CA non-profit organization that provides psychological services, education and advocacy for those with military-related trauma. Prior to serving in the non-profit sector, Mr.Chismark worked in the corporate world for thirty years. He was CEO of a small technology company, and prior to that held a variety of senior sales and marketing management positions throughout the United States with consumer products companies including TDK, Apple, Polaroid, and Carnation. He was an Adjunct Professor at Sierra College and the University of Phoenix, where he taught undergraduate classes in Marketing and Sociology. He served in the U.S. Army with the 6th Special Forces Group (Airborne), and commanded troops in combat in Vietnam with the 173rd Airborne Brigade, for which he was awarded three Bronze Star Medals and The Air Medal. He achieved the rank of Captain. Mr. Chismark holds a Bachelor of Science degree from Cornell University and a Masters of Business Administration degree from Georgia State University. He currently lives in Nevada City, California with his wife of forty-two years, Elizabeth. They have adult twin daughters and five grandchildren.

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© 2012 by Kurt Chismark. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means

without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 06/16/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-1365-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-1364-3 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012909990

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are

being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book

may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this

work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the

publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Biblical passages at the beginning of chapters have been taken from: The New American Bible,

Revised Edition (NABRE), Released March 9, 2011.

PREFACE quotation from The Ebb-Tide, The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson, Swanston edn,

vol xix (London: Chatto and Windus, 1911).

Statements and opinions in this book are mine, and do not represent those of the United States

Army, the United States of America, or the publisher. Some names of people and places have been

omitted or changed to protect privacy.

CONTENTS

DEDICATION

FOREWORD

PREFACE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CONCLUSION

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

DEDICATION

To our deployed military and their families—past, present, and future, and especially to U.S. Army Special Forces Chaplain Reverend Albert Hartlage.

FOREWORD

When I think back to what I knew growing up about my dad’s Vietnam War experience, all I was aware of was that my dad was in the Army, and hanging in my parents’ bedroom was a picture of him in his fatigues to prove it. Also, in the living room was a glass case housing some spooky life-like Asian dolls from which I stayed far away.

When I was a bit older I remember my dad taking my sister and me to the theatre to see the movie, Platoon, with strict confidences that we were not to tell our mother.

Why aren’t we allowed to see it? I asked.

No, my dad replied, you two are allowed to see it—I’m not!

So it wasn’t until our trip to Washington, D.C. that I began to understand what my dad experienced—and only this information came from my emphatic witnessing of his reaction to the Vietnam Memorial. For me, I understood that my dad had already undergone his most important purpose in life—and, quite painfully—it wasn’t protecting me. This poem was written in my late teens reflecting this revelation.

Karin Chismark Currie

Standing Behind the Stone Barricade

Reflecting in the charcoal granite, his face,

obscured by names only used in memory, seemed

a part of the stone sanction. I stood back—

my slim hand slipping out of his powerful one—

letting him take in the experience of

transcending to a time, place, and happening

he’d rather not remember.

The day was gray with weather and tone:

an ashen sky trying to camouflage the

bold, bewailing existence of The Wall.

Drizzle wet our heads—the prelude to

the pouring storm to come.

The squinting iced eyes pierced within,

eyebrows connected, forehead crevices deepened,

mouth clowned down, low enough for the corners to

touch the chin. Concentration, sorrow, and guilt brought

him back to his lost boys.

The water beat on our heads, saturating our

hair; we allowed the precipitation to slowly drip

down to our faces. His image, stabilized in the giant

stone, let the water absorb into his lashes, roll

down his cheeks, extrude off his nose, run

into his mouth, and off his chin. Not once did

he reach to wipe the moisture from his flesh.

Did that cold man, whom I honored, obeyed

and loved since birth cry in front of me that heavy day?

His image reflected a man weighed down with tears of

remembrance and hopelessness, but only

the back of his drenched head was before me.

A shiver of reality froze down my spine:

the Demon of Black Recollection would forever

force the bloodied, deformed dead bodies of

those unfortunate platoon heroes into his soul.

I never looked at him the same since that dark day:

he was once an experienced boy—not much older than I—

fathering brave youths, who were willing to, and did,

die for their country.

PREFACE

"There is nothing but God’s grace. We walk upon it; we

breathe it; we live and die by it."

—Robert Louis Stevenson

Each time I sat down at my PC to write this book, I went into My Documents and double clicked on "Haunted House, for indeed that’s where I had to go. Once inside this scary house, I chose to enter one of the many Rooms of Nightmares, for these were my chapters. Sometimes the rooms were adjoining, and they were always dark—but they kept me from running all over the house screaming, bumping into walls, and falling down stairs like a terrified mad man. I thank God and remind myself each day that now I’m only dealing with electronic folders and icons," that captured a time, probably best forgotten.

This time best forgotten I refer to was my military leadership experience in the Republic of Vietnam, particularly that in the spring and summer of 1970 when I was a U.S. Army Infantry 2nd, then 1st Lieutenant serving as the Rifle Platoon Leader in the famous 173rd Airborne Brigade.

Like most others before me and since who have served in military combat leadership positions and were responsible for making decisions that always involved balancing accomplishing the mission with protecting the lives and providing for the wellbeing of their people, this experience more than any other in my life, intensely shaped who I have turned out to be, both positively and negatively.

Unlike most that have experienced the challenges and horrors of war first hand, after forty-plus years, I have chosen to revisit and document the images, feelings, and questions I had back then and take advantage of this opportunity to reflect and share these reflections and questions.

But why?

First, in 2007 when talking with my sister, Cici and brothers Jim and Larry at a family reunion, a conversation started up around some sound bites we heard about family members’ war experiences: Grandpa Joe played dead and Turk soldiers marched over his body in the Great Balkan Crisis, Grandpa Mike was wounded in France in WWI and was never the same, Dad installed emergency radar on a ship in New Caledonia in WWII to get back home earlier, Uncle Bud was one of Patton’s famous sharpshooters and got frostbite fighting the Germans in the Battle of the Bulge. But then this conversation all but ended. There was not much more known, hence, not much more to talk about.

Undoubtedly, this was because unlike other family stories that are passed down through the generations that tend to be detailed, value-laden, and memorable, those having any hint of war never seem to make it. Veterans of previous generations just did not talk about those things, and most veterans of this generation still do not. Their unique experiences and what was going through their minds when they were experiencing the horrors of war, however, are nonetheless intriguing and many of us now want to hear their stories.

Cici said to me later that evening, that I had some very unique experiences and I should write a book to share with others. With her comment my brothers wanted to know more, so at my siblings’ requests, I began to tell a couple of my stories, at which time they requested I take the time and put as many as possible down on paper.

Second, perhaps my stories and reflections will prompt those reading them to think very seriously about how important it is for our elected and appointed officials in government, as well as all citizens, to do their very best to research, become informed, and consider all options, alternatives, and consequences before deciding to go to war, and especially before committing ground troops.

I have always loved our country and in my youth romanticized the role of our military leaders, so when I was commissioned as an officer in the United States Army, I felt happy, thankful and proud about my new role and opportunity to command troops in combat in Vietnam to prevent the spread of Communism throughout the world, and thus protect our freedom. I also looked forward to doing my part to protect and free the Vietnamese people from Communist aggression. Although these causes were indeed noble and well-intended, history has shown us they may have been based on false assumptions, erroneous information, and possibly a bit of hubris. Could one describe this as an honorable illusion?

And third, journaling has been proven to provide excellent catharsis for many who take the time to do it. I was hopeful that writing and sharing my combat leadership experiences and feelings would be a spiritual, healing experience that would help exorcise those war demons of long ago that every once in awhile, when least expected, would raise their ugly heads. Many thousands of combat veterans, who experienced