Author: Richard "Dick" Ingelido
37 Esplanade
Yeronga, Queensland 4104
Australia














Book Title:
It's Not About The War
(Non-fiction / Memoir)
Paperback Cover
RRP: A$24.95 (Shipping cost excluded outside Australia)
ISBN: 0-646-45441-2 (Self Published) Pages: 200
© Copyright 2005 Richard Ingelido, Brisbane, Australia



Book Orders: e-mail: NotAboutWar@yahoo.com
In the USA the book can be purchased for US$19.95 plus $5 shipping.


Book Synopsis/Introduction:

It’s Not About The War allows the reader to feel the fear of facing death as well as the exhilaration of exposure to the dangers of a war zone that few will ever know. Be thrilled by the highs and lows of a civilian surviving under adverse conditions with the fighting Marines near the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) in Vietnam.

Be confronted by the alcoholism, drug abuse and racial friction present on the military bases. – The writer exposes his vulnerability with regard to decisions made for his family’s benefit; which painfully resulted in failure, causing depression, divorce, excessive drinking and perhaps even contributing to the tragic death of his daughter.


This book is about Richard Ingelido’s life. Often unpredictable always challenging, and interwoven with his unforgettable experience in Vietnam – the excitement, the fear and arduous sole searching for his illusive dream - and the consequences that followed.

Because of his civilian status, the U.S. Military and Vietnamese treated Richard differently. The military personal were rightly, focused on their individual tasks, which made it difficult for them to see the big picture. This 28-year-old engineer however was not restricted in his movements. He was able to enter “off limit” areas and observe the war from a different and unique perspective. In addition, Richard witnessed, recorded and photographed how local Vietnamese survived under adverse wartime conditions. Over 30 pages of these historical color photographs are included to enhance understanding.

The Vietnam assignment Richard Ingelido undertook would change his life and family relationship in more ways than he was able to recognize at the time. He believed he was doing his country a service and securing his financial future. While life was full of uncertainties before his Vietnam experience, it became more emotionally charged and challenging as time went on. The years of 1968 and 1969 created a shock wave of change and an eruption of human emotions for Richard Ingelido, his family and the world.




























Note: In the publication there are over 30 pages of spectacular, enlightening, heart wrenching photographs of Vietnam taken by the author.


The Author:
He is now retired from Honeywell Corp. after more than 25 years of service as a Field Engineering Specialist and 45 years in aviation. He held positions at Avco Lycoming, Sikorsky and Airwork, just to name a few. After retirement he decided to write his memoirs as a part of his legacy for his descendants. He wanted the story to be told first hand with emotion and record the events as he personally experienced them. This book is not just about the war, aircraft or history, but it reveals some of the best and worst things that life can offer.


Newspaper Reviews / Comments

Townsville Bulletin (Australia):
"This is a survivor's memoir. In a word, Harrowing."

Vietnam Veterans Association of Australia “Phuoc Tuy Times”:
Richard’s book, It’s Not About The War”, is extremely compelling reading. Interceded with photographs it becomes a graphic story of one man’s hell, home and life.
The story is powerful and one that any serviceman who served in Vietnam can quickly relate to. You will struggle with some of the things he got up to, laugh with a lot of the others and cringe at the several close calls. A well-written account of one man’s odyssey in Vietnam.

American Vietnam Veteran (Mike Thomas / Honeywell Corporation);
“It took me just three days to read It’s Not About The War; I probably should have said lived the book. It gave me everything but the smell. Well done!”

MacAir Australian Airline (Stuart Corbett):
“When I picked up the book, I had no expectations other than curiosity. I found however that I was gripped by the reality and had to read it through before putting it down. I found the writing style refreshing and personal, and felt as if Dick was narrating the words himself. This book is a great legacy”.

Stephen Smith, Director of Sales and Marketing/Pacific Turbine Brisbane Ltd.
“I read your book and asked my wife to read it before we discussed it. Both of us enjoyed the read and felt the books open honesty was a breath of fresh air. The ability to write a book that appeals to me and my wife Judy impressed us both. It stirred some soul searching for me.”



Order Book/s by email: NotAboutWar@yahoo.com

© Copyright 2005 Richard Ingelido, Brisbane, Australia
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without prior written permission of the copyright holder.
Ingelido, Richard 1940-
It’s Not About the War

Author: Richard “Dick” Ingelido
Photographer: Richard Ingelido Camera: Minolta SLR 35mm
With exception, photos of author: (unknown photographer/s)
Book Cover and Arts Design: Richard Ingelido
Cover Feature: Vietnamese papa san just finished praying in church.
Editor and Final Proof Reader: Dr. Nancy A. Petenbrink, Ph.D
ISBN: 0-646-45441-2
First self-published in 2005 by Queensland Complete Printing Services Nambour, Qld. Australia

Disclaimer: All details given in this publication are true and correct to the best of my knowledge. Care has been taken in the research of the information herein, but no responsibility can be accepted by the author for any damages resulting from the information of this work.



Chapter 1 (in part)
Flash Back

As I cleared the main gate of Dong Ha, I could see that everyone was in the “full alert” position. Grunts were in their heavily fortified bunkers with weapons pointed to the defoliated open outer perimeter. I could already feel the bite of the sun on the side of my face and back as I walked through the main gate.


Then I heard the Marines yelling out behind me, “There’s major war going on out there. Where do you think you’re going by yourself? You must be one crazy bastard!”

I must have looked ridiculous strolling out with a small bag in my right hand and without any protection except for my shouldered 45cal. I didn’t take the time to reply because I knew they wouldn’t understand my motives. Not only that, if I was to make Quang Tri in good time, I’d have to move along quickly on Highway One south.

As I walked down the dusty road, occasionally a couple of tanks or armored vehicles would pass me by. I stuck my thumb out but they just left me behind in a cloud of dust. Even though they didn’t attempt to stop, the Marines in the vehicles were waving wildly at me, and on one occasion above the noise, I heard someone yelling, “Hey, a civilian round-eye.”

There was not a local anywhere to be seen. Not even a mama san. Nevertheless, I felt as long as there was traffic headed south, in my direction, I’d be safe. If all the traffic was headed north or back to Dong Ha, I might be in trouble.

After about an hour, I saw a lot of ground and flight activity off to my right, about two miles away. Marine Broncos were dive-bombing and dropping white phosphorous. Shortly after, an F-4 Phantom would make a quick pass overhead and drop napalm on the marked position. I had seen napalm dropped while I was in the air, at a safe distance, but seeing it on the ground was more than breathtaking. The ground shook under my feet and I could feel the heat and smell the fuel in the air from the napalm. It was a little too close for comfort and the pucker factor increased as I watched the power of the explosions unfold before me.

I walked faster and my mind started to race. I could see feet moving in front of me, but were they mine? I had the sensation that I wasn’t really there in body. So, was this just a dream? What kind of person leaves his wife and three children behind for almost two years, to seek a life-threatening task in a war zone?
That day I realized it was true what they say… when faced with a life-threatening experience your life really does start to flash before your eyes…


Chapter 5 (in part)
Changing Attitudes

“Bosses Night” was held on a regular basis on Friday or Saturday night. The enlisted men invited their “boss” to come to their club in the enlisted men’s hooch area. The NCO’s and officers called it “The Animal Club” and I soon found out why. I wasn’t their “boss” but was invited. I wasn’t keen on going at night but was assured there would be “No problem.”

The EM Club was located on the beach perimeter. The large stone building, covered with a corrugated sheet metal roof, was positioned on an unpainted concrete slab. Row after row of wooden picnic tables and chairs were almost hidden by the sea of Marines. It looked like pure chaos. At every table, those seated had numerous full cans of beer in front of them. A game of “liars dice” was usually played to decide who would buy the table the next round of drinks. When a round was delivered to the table, the tab on each can was snapped open by the bartender. Beer was not to be removed from the premises or taken back to the hooches. There was also a contest whereby empty cans were carefully stacked one upon another to build a pyramid in the middle of the table. The table that drank the most beer had the best chance of winning!

Large crowds around the tables indicated that chugalug contests were going on.........

Before the night was over an argument broke out at one of the chugalug tables.... I made a quick dash for the exit, jumped on the Honda and headed back toward safe territory.

I was riding the Honda down the dark road, toward my hooch, thinking about what I had just witnessed and how the war was affecting these young enlisted men. It was a moonless night. The only light came from the enlisted men’s huts as I passed by them. I was moving along at no more than 15 mph and the cool damp night air from the South China Sea felt good blowing on my face. On occasion my nostrils could detect the smell of marijuana in the air. Then it came; a whining percussion with an impacting blast of air in my left ear followed by the crack of a gunshot. I have no words to explain my feelings at that moment, or the sound as the bullet passed within millimeters of my ear. I quickly pulled off the road and ditched the Honda, on its side in the soft sand and I ducked behind it for cover.

Someone had taken a shot at me .........................


(In Part)
Chapter 11
TET

One night I was caught off guard at Marble. A couple of mortars came in and everyone in the hooch ran to our trusty bunker after the first one. I was in bed and sound asleep without a stir when a rocket came in close by.

That “crack” must have jolted me out of bed, but I wasn’t awake yet. I was standing at the screened front door with my eyes open, when another rocket came in and landed about 20 yards in front of me. The flash and loud concussion in the soft sand brought me alive with adrenaline.

Without thinking, feeling the concussion, I spun around to run to the trap door. I was off balance and fell over, with my forehead striking the corner of my steel bed frame. I was stunned, but I got up and made a mad dash for the bunker.

When I got there, all eyes were on me. I was covered in blood........


*****************************************************************

One of the bar girls, Kim, asked me for a ride home because the bar was about to close and her ride did not show up. Kim said she lived in a little village “just off the road” on my way (back to Marble). I reluctantly agreed, but I felt like I was doing her a favor.

She side straddled my running Honda and we were on our way just before dusk. Heading south on Highway One, my passenger gave me instructions where to turn off to her village. After about five or ten minutes, I had to slow down to negotiate a path between the rice paddies, usually used by buffalos and bicycles. I turned on my headlight, because it was getting too dark to see the trail. By this time I was wondering if I would be able to find my way back to Highway One.

I stopped the Honda as we approached the path leading into the jungle and told her: “I’m not going any further, you can get off and walk from here.” Kim insisted, “Not far now, just ahead.” I drove on, questioning my sanity. Another couple of minutes passed; more turns in the heavy growth and we came out of the jungle into the secluded village. In the darkness, the native kids came running alongside of me as I pulled up to her thatched house.

I was trying to keep the kids from climbing up on the Honda when Kim told me to come inside and meet her family. “It’s too late to go back to the base and too dangerous in the dark!” she said. Considering the position I was in, I decided to stay the night. Kim instructed me to bring the Honda into the hut. “It would be safer”, she said.

As I was pushing my Honda through the entrance to the hut, I could hardly see what was inside the dimly lit room. I was aware of two tatami mats on the bare ground with just enough room between to park the Honda. To the left and right side of the entrance wall were a couple of chairs. Once I put the bike on the center stand, I turned to see two Vietnamese men sitting in chairs and a slender young Vietnamese woman standing beside them.

Kim introduced the young lady as her sister. Turning to one of the seated men with only a sarong wrapped around his body, she said: “This is my brother.” The brother gave me direct eye contact and a big smile. The man sitting next to him was in some kind of uniform and was cleaning a watch with a rag. “This is my sister’s boyfriend, he is going to stay overnight also.” She went on to say: “He and my sister will sleep in this bed”, pointing to the tatami on the left side of the Honda, “You and I will sleep on the other tatami on the other side.”

The boyfriend didn’t raise his head from the watch cleaning or acknowledge the introduction. I could now see by his stature that he was not as slender as a typical South Vietnamese man and his uniform was not of an RVN. In the dim lighting I tried to study him a little closer. As my eyes focused, I make out a holstered pistol on his right side. My conclusion was he was a hardcore NVA soldier.

Not quite knowing what to do next, I unzipped my light jacket enough to reveal my 45cal shoulder holster. Kim looked at me, seeing that I was annoyed and uneasy about the “boyfriend.” With a smile she said: “It will be OK, there will be no trouble.”

Just then a mama san stepped into the hut with a naked toddler straddling her hip. Kim introduced her mother. Mama San gave me a big smile as Kim said something further to her in Vietnamese. I could see the black betel nut-coated teeth and some of the juice running down her chin.

The mama san pointed to her daughter’s boyfriend and said to me: “Him VC!” She was on the verge of laughing,…… then still smiling, she turned and quickly disappeared from the crowded room, taking the child with her. I could feel my knees go weak and.............


More information about the author:

In May 1976, I was one of the Garrett team that broke the world record with a Lear 36, registration number N220Y. The TFE731 engine powered Lear, under the command of golfer Arnold Palmer was flown around the world in a record 57 hours 25 minutes and 42 seconds. One flight leg was from Boston to Paris. I was waiting for the Lear to arrive in Boston to debrief Mr. Palmer on in-flight engine problems and perfromed a preflight on both engines before the Lear departed for Paris.

Degrees or Accomplishments:

Airframe and Powerplant Engineer
Technical Training Instructor
Pilot, light piston engine to corporate jet.
Hang Glider Pilot, Intermediate Level
Advanced Scuba Diver with over 600 dives throughout the world
Ocean Yachtsman
Brown Belt in Judo
Motorcycle Enthusiast
Photographer

Miscellaneous Information: States in the U.S. I visited: 49 States but never North Dakota.

States lived in: Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, South Carolina, New Jersey, Maryland, New York, Connecticut, Kansas, Arizona, and California.

Countries or Territories, visited or lived: Born in the USA, lived in Singapore three years, currently living in Australia past 25 years where I gained Citizenship. Visited Mexico, Nicaragua, Canada, Cuba, Bermuda, Greenland, England, Denmark, France, Germany, Spain, Portugal, Switzerland, Italy, Israel, Turkey, Greece, Egypt, Nepal, India, Sri Lanka, Maldives, Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, China, Japan, Okinawa, Taiwan, Philippines, East and West Malaysia, Indonesia, Solomon Islands, Pupa New Guinea, New Caledonia, Nauru, Guam, Fiji, Kiribati, Tuvalu, Tonga, Tahiti, New Zealand (North and South).