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"I'm Not Gonna Die in This Damn Place"

Juan David Coronado · 2018

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Period artwork: Interior of the Bodleian Library, 1845
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About this book

Author
Juan David Coronado
Language
English
Published
2018
Length
77,804 words · about 5 h 27 min
Sections
14 reader sections
Text
Digital text
Rights
CC BY-NC 4.0 · repository export licence (OAPEN)

 

Contents (14)
  1. Front matter about 2 min
  2. Contents about 1 min
  3. Foreword about 5 min
  4. Preface about 15 min
  5. Introduction about 21 min
  6. CHAPTER 1 ChicaNamization about 37 min
  7. CHAPTER 2 The Formative Years about 25 min
  8. CHAPTER 3 The Manly Ideals of Machismo, Duty, and Patriotism about 30 min
  9. Chapter 4 about 47 min
  10. Chapter 5 about 52 min
  11. CHAPTER 6 Homecoming or Rude Awakening’? about 35 min
  12. Conclusion about 14 min
  13. Chapter 1. ChicaNamization about 36 min
  14. Index about 6 min

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Front matter

MANLINESS, IDENTITY, AND SURVIVAL OF THE MEXICAN AMERICAN VIETNAM PRISONERS OF WAR

Coronado, Juan David. "I'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr.

Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Contents

PREFACE sigs os ated oes bata oo WW Ga ee EN ae AS xi ACKNOWLEDGMENTS i444 400-hocdeue ina needdanded E deaeabhed xvii INTRODUCTION yssyd dana an aa aan a a a aAA xxiii CHAPTER 1. ChicaNamization siaaa an bee a eee a a a seas 1

CHAPTER 4. Resisting, Enduring, and Surviving Captivity, the Early Years,1954-1967 «1... eee cece cece eee e eee eees 57

Coronado, Juan David. "i'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Foreword

Rubén Martinez

THE WAR IN VIETNAM AND THE CIVIL RIGHTS MOVEMENT OVERLAPPED in time and entangled the domestic social and political struggles of the period. The Chicano Movement had its roots in the post-World War II period, in the disenchantment among Chicano veterans who expected more for having served their country than a return to the subordinate status of a racial minority in the nation’s Southwest. This disenchantment combined with an optimism about civil rights grounded in key court decisions that continued the “long march to freedom” in the struggle to dismantle the institutional features of American racism (e.g., Mendez v. Westminster, 1947). With the defeat of the Axis powers by the Allies, the nation experienced a surge in progressivism and economic expansion. The National Labor Relations Act empowered the rights and voice of labor, and the American working class embarked on a series of improvements in the terms and conditions of employment and in the quality of life. All of these social and political gains were part of a series of social democratic improvements across a broad range of life dimensions that occurred at midcentury. At the same time, however, the roots of today’s conservative movements Coronado, Juan David. "i'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. = vii

E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor viii = Foreword were growing stronger, especially as White Americans resisted the Civil Rights Movement and the loss of a sense of psychological superiority or advantage grounded in racial ideology and practices. The period was characterized by domestic social tensions and struggles, and at the international level, the nation flexed its anti-Communist muscles, taking on the pro-Communist forces in Vietnam following the departure of the French in 1954. In 1955, through the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO), the United States was instrumental in setting up the Government of the Republic of Vietnam (cvy or South Vietnam).

The anti-Communist government of South Vietnam set in motion repressive measures that engendered resistance by different sectors of society, including Buddhist monks and nuns, students, business people, intellectuals, and peasants. By the end of the decade the Communist Party of Vietnam, after having failed to unify the country by political means, accepted revolutionary violence to overthrow the corrupt puppet government. In 1961, President Kennedy received a report from a team he had sent to South Vietnam that assessed the scope of American aid requirements and called for increased military, technical, and economic aid, as well as advisers that would help South Vietnam achieve military success. President Kennedy responded with limited support in terms of equipment and advisors, but the anti-Communist government continued with repressive measures, especially against Buddhist monks. In 1963, the U.S. supported a military coup that changed the leadership in South Vietnam, setting in motion a series of regime changes over the next few years. Following the assassination of President Kennedy, his successor, President Lyndon Baines Johnson, began taking more aggressive military engagement in Vietnam’s civil war.

In the United States the Civil Rights Movement was gaining momentum, with Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. leading the March on Washington in 1963, where he delivered the “I Have a Dream” speech, which inspired many Americans, including Chicanos. During this period, Rodolfo “Corky” Gonzales was organizing Chicanos in Denver against police brutality; César Chavez was organizing farmworkers in California; Reies Lopez Tijerina was organizing Chicano land grantees in New Mexico, and Albert Pena Jr. was leading the Political Association of Spanish Speaking Organizations

Coronado, Juan David. "i'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Foreword E ix in Texas. Chicano demands were growing across the Southwest and began to consolidate ideologically with the publication of Yo Soy Joaquin, an epic poem by Corky Gonzales that articulated the conquered status of Chicanos and the promise of liberation and self-determination. In 1968, several of the Chicano leaders were active participants at the Poor People’s March in Washington, where Corky delivered the “Plan del Barrio” speech, which called for reforms in housing, education, law enforcement, land, agriculture, and the economy. In 1969, he led the first National Chicano Youth Liberation Conference in Denver, which furthered mobilized Chicanos across the Southwest. As these events were transpiring across the country, Chicano soldiers were being killed in the Vietnam war, while others were being taken as prisoners of war (POWs).

In this volume, Juan David Coronado presents the first major work on the experiences of these POWs. Although limited in numbers, these POWs tended to have similar backgrounds as members of an oppressed racial minority group, but they differed in their patriotism and in their political perspectives. Indeed, their experiences reflected the racial dynamics that characterized the United States as well as the political movements of the period, with family members, in some cases, taking anti-imperialist stances here on the mainland. Upon their return, the nation was deeply divided over the war, and White resistance to the Civil Rights Movement was increasing. During the 1970s, when former Chicano POWs were reintegrating into civil society, the social tensions and antiwar struggles had diminished, and the economic problem of stagflation created opportunities for political conservatives to gain footholds on political power. By 1980, when Ronald Reagan was elected to the presidency, conservatives were gaining power and the nation was moving in the direction of free market fundamentalism, which gained allies among anti-Communists, the Religious Right, and social conservatives. In short, this was the political context to which they returned.

The experiences of the Chicano POWs not only reveal their struggles to survive, they also provide a window into the racial and political dynamics of the period from a Chicano perspective, as well as into the Chicano world of machismo of that period. Today, with the Trump regime serving as the

Coronado, Juan David. "i'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor x E Foreword fullest expression of free market fundamentalism, along with its racist, sexist, homophobic, authoritarian, and fascist elements, readers should reflect on the political continuities and discontinuities between the period of the Chicano Vietnam POWs and the present antidemocratic features of America. We are in a period of neoliberal nationalism in which the democratic principles many Chicano soldiers believed they were fighting for in

Vietnam are being threatened in an open and direct way by an American plutocracy.

Coronado, Juan David. "i'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Preface

THE INTENSE HANOI HEAT AND HIGH HUMIDITY OF JUNE OFFERED NO comfort to our shocked bodies, which were exhausted and suffering from jetlag.* I was serving as a graduate assistant with the Texas Tech University Vietnam Delegation, a study-abroad group that visited Southeast Asia in the summer of 2008. We had left Lax Friday at midnight and arrived at N6i Bai International Airport in Hanoi Sunday morning local time. Saturday was completely lost, and the effects from the twelve-hour time progression certainly did not ease the concerns some in the group had of going through Vietnamese customs, especially after having been cautioned of the strict laws,and more importantly of the authoritarian “Communist” officials. For a fronterizo/borderlander like myself who grew up crossing the U.S.-Mexico border frequently, often greasing a few palms (in Mexico) and dealing with abrasive customs officials (mostly in the United States) flexing their authority, this was nothing new to me.

Actually, entering Vietnam was fairly straightforward, as our visas were in order and perhaps customs officials were already expecting our arrival. I embarked on a research trip to Vietnam that not only submerged me in

= xi Coronado, Juan David. "I'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. XI E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr.

Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor xii m Preface

Vietnamese culture and exposed me to the historical sites of the Vietnam War’ (or American War as it is known there), but that took me to an enchanted world that played center stage in my studies. More importantly, this journey forever changed my life. It brought me face to face with a place several of my subjects would not dare return to “without a gun in hand.” I knew I would not be exposed to the Vietnam of the Cold War era when Americans deeply invested blood, lives, capital, credibility, and time in the preservation of a Communist-free South Vietnam. But I would, however, experience as much of Vietnam as possible.

I quickly absorbed the atmosphere and familiarized myself with the surroundings of downtown Hanoi.The smells produced by the innumerable food vendors swamped the streets as locals inundated the sidewalks by early morning to eat at their favorite stands. It was a friendly atmosphere, and I was approached by several young people who were interested in knowing about me and even treated me to pastries being sold out of wheeled carts stationed on the side of the road. We conversed about a number of topics, but their main interest was about life in the United States, and they were noticeably enthralled about life on the U.S.-Mexico borderlands.

The crowded sidewalks paled in comparison to the congested streets. The traffic lights throughout Vietnam seem like a mere suggestion, and driving etiquette seemed to revolve around the very simple premise “Don’t get hit.” This concept was especially true when dealing with larger vehicles (buses and trucks) that regardless of the situation always seemed to have the right-of-way. Busy intersections lacked uniform lanes as dozens of motorbikes (the transportation of choice in Vietnam) erratically positioned themselves to continue on to their destinations. It was very clear to me that I was right in the middle of where I needed to be at that time.

By the second day “in-country,” I was dealing with an obnoxious thirty-six-hour trial as I had trouble adjusting to the twelve-hour time difference from Texas time and was functioning without any sleep. The antimalarial medication kicked in, provoking a mild case of insomnia along with other side effects, including paranoia that allowed me to experience Vietnam through a totally different lens. Still, despite the circumstances while adjusting to the new scene, I was eager for our midafternoon visit to Hóa Lo.

Coronado, Juan David. "i'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Preface m xiii

Americans primarily know it as the Hanoi Hilton, where American prisoners of war (Pows) spent endless days waiting for the war to end. The cold two-story concrete compound had been constructed to hold Vietnamese political prisoners during the French occupation in the 1880s.

Today, Hoa Lo is a museum, preserving pro-Vietnamese, socialist, and anti-imperialist sentiments, while at the same time charging visitors a cover fee. Like most indoor and outdoor war museums in Vietnam, Hoa LO showcases their long-embattled history with exceptional nationalist pride. Interestingly, the museum is not only dedicated to the time it was used to hold American rows, but it also focuses on the Vietnamese political prisoners who were imprisoned under French occupation. The once dreaded prison now stands as a tourist site with visitors flocking in droves, as they tend to do at prominent museums.A gift shop filled with books and souvenirs is located at the entrance of the museum, and as you exit, Vietnamese children swarm around you with pirated American and Vietnamese books on the war in numerous languages along with all sorts of trinkets for sale. I wondered about the upheaval during the Cold War that prompted the forceful tension between Hanoi and Washington. After all, if this old prison now serves as a tourist attraction, then capitalism is obviously alive in this socialist society.

With the passing of time and reconciliation between both countries, the Vietnamese have moved beyond the war years and embrace Americans and their culture.’ The exhibits at the Hanoi Hilton are representative of how the American War is remembered in Vietnam as nothing more than “just another war” in their tumultuous history. Among the artifacts on display at Hoa Lò are a guillotine used by the French to execute Vietnamese political prisoners, a picture of Commander (Ret.) Everett Alvarez Jr. (the first American aviator shot down in North Vietnam and the first prisoner of war at Hóa LO), and Senator John McCain’s flight suit from the day of his capture. The McCain display has even been updated to reflect the senator’s 2008 candidacy for the presidency of the United States.

While Senator McCain arguably has become one of the most recognized former prisoners of war, Alvarez also shares a special status. On August 5, 1964, Alvarez became the first Hanoi (North Vietnamese) prisoner

Coronado, Juan David. "l'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor xiv mE Preface when the United States retaliated against the Gulf of Tonkin incident that had occurred days earlier. “I started the war,” Alvarez proudly says of his role in Vietnam.’ Yet, long before Tonkin, the United States had been militarily involved in Southeast Asia (sEA).Although Alvarez would become the longest-held pow in North Vietnam, he was not the longest-detained prisoner of the entire war. Major Floyd “Jim” Thompson served the longest term as a Pow, surpassing Alvarez by over four months.’ On March 26,1964, Thompson fell into the hands of the National Liberation Front (NLF), also known as the Viet Cong (vc),° in South Vietnam. Still, neither Thompson nor Alvarez can claim to be the first American pow in Vietnam.

On November 22, 1963, the same day an assassin’s bullet ended the life of President John F. Kennedy in Dallas, Texas, between two hundred and five hundred Viet Cong attacked a Special Forces camp at Hiep Hoa, located between Saigon and the Cambodian border.’ Two days later, Captain Isaac “Tke” Camacho, a Green Beret from El Paso, Texas, fell captive to the Viet Cong. However, ten years prior to Tonkin, in June 1954 during the final days of the French Indochina War, a group of Viet Minh near South China Beach in Da Nang captured five U.S. troops who had been supporting French military air units, including Airman 2/C Ciro Salas Jr. of Los Angeles, California.® Within three months, the American government successfully negotiated the repatriation of the five Americans. Their experiences in the summer of 1954 foreshadowed the destinies of nearly seven hundred Americans in Southeast Asia who would fall captive during the Vietnam War.

These three Mexican Americans,’ Salas, Camacho, and Alvarez, share a significant experience in the pow narrative. Ciro Salas and his group were the first Americans captured in Vietnam and have previously been excluded from most Pow lists. Isaac Camacho was the first American in South Vietnam to successfully escape from captivity, while Everett Alvarez became a household name after being the first American pilot shot down and captured in North Vietnam. Due to the media coverage of his capture, he has been included in many historical accounts—both academic and nonacademic works. However, more can and should be said about Alvarez, who spent eight and a half years in captivity.

Coronado, Juan David. "i'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Preface E XV

The experiences of these three Mexican American pows were exceptional and distinctive. Yet, despite the uniqueness of their Pow experiences, much has remained unsaid about them. The large majority of historical accounts have minimized the Mexican American Pow experience. Even more has remained unwritten about the experiences of other Mexican American former pows who, with two exceptions, were captured in South Vietnam, and their stories fall in the category of “jungle prisoners,” whose experiences have been underemphasized and marginalized.

Coronado, Juan David. "i'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Coronado, Juan David. "i'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Acknowledgments

COMPLETING THIS MANUSCRIPT HAS BEEN A WILD JOURNEY THAT HAS taken me to Southeast Asia and all across the United States. With much support, push, and encouragement, hemos llegado (we have arrived)! I have been truly fortunate in having personal and professional backing from family, friends, colleagues, and former professors. This volume that inserts Mexican American prisoners of war into the historical narrative of the Vietnam War has been made possible through the help of many people. I will attempt to recognize as many people as I can possibly remember. If I miss someone, I truly apologize, but know that in these pages lies my gratitude to you.

The oral histories included here bring to life a rich history that had previously been underappreciated. Therefore, it is with tremendous gratitude that I thank the former Mexican American Vietnam prisoners of war included in this study. This work would not be what it is without their assistance, kindness, and more importantly their history. I want to thank José Astorga, Joe Anzaldúa Jr., Everett Alvarez Jr., Isaac Camacho, Ciro Salas Jr., Hector Acosta, José David Luna, Juan Jacques, Abel Larry Kavanaugh Sr.,

= s.

Coronado, Juan David. "i'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. ave E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr.

Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor xviii m Acknowledgments and Alfonso Ray Riate. While most of these men welcomed me into their homes and offices and treated me with utmost respect, others respectfully answered my calls and letters. I am also appreciative to their wives, who made me feel welcomed. I owe gratitude to Larry Kavanaugh Jr. and his wife Heather for opening up and filling a gap in the history of Larry Sr. I want to acknowledge former pows Lew Meyer, Mike Benge, and Mike Mc- Grath for their determination in helping me find some of their old friends. No matter what any joker says, former Vietnam War pows ate heroes. I also want to thank Chuck and Mary Schantag and the P.O.W. Network for all their help.

I visited and requested materials from numerous archives, libraries, and repositories, and I would like to extend gratitude to the staffs at those locations, including the Southwest Collection and Vietnam Center at Texas Tech University, Richard Nixon Presidential Library and Museum, and the Special Collections & University Archives at Stanford University. A special thank you to Curtis Gibbens with the office of freedom of information in the Department of Defense at the Pentagon who provided great resources. I want to thank Grace Charles from the Special Collections at Texas A&M- Corpus Christi and Dr. Brian Robertson who provided great material from the Nixon library. Along the way, I also met friends of former pows, and I would like to thank Juan Apodaca, Billy Waugh, Anthony Williams, Albert “Smiley” Cuéllar, and the rowdy bunch in Refugio, Texas. I want to thank Danelle L. Jimenez for her efforts in convincing her father Juan Jacques to meet me. I also want to thank Rosalio Munoz for granting me an interview and sharing his efforts to organize the Chicano Moratorium.

I want to thank Texas Tech University’s Department of History for all their support. Dr. Jorge Iber played a key role in the early stages of the development of this project. I would like to thank Dr. Ron Milam for making the trip to Vietnam possible. It gave me the necessary perspective to start this project. I am also appreciative of Dr. Jeffrey Mosher’s constructive feedback. Dr. Miguel Levario served beyond his duties and never lost faith in me, and Iam humbled by his patience. Thank you to Dr. Jim Reckner, Congressman Sam Johnson, and Johnson’s office staff for help. A special thanks to Dr.

Gretchen Adams.

Coronado, Juan David. "i'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Acknowledgments E xix

While researching and writing this manuscript, I moved multiple times, from West Texas to my home in South Texas to my current location in Michigan. Aside from Texas Tech University, I worked for several other institutions of higher education, including University of Texas-Pan American (UTPA), South Texas College, and Michigan State University.These jobs provided the financial resources to keep writing and allowed me to share my research with students and colleagues alike. I am grateful to each department that employed me and to the staff that assisted along the way. I am also appreciative of the many students I taught along the way; their perseverance motivated me to finish this manuscript.

This work would not be possible without the direction of my supervisor and mentor, Dr. Rubén Martinez, director of the Julian Samora Research Institute (JsRI) at Michigan State University. At a time when academia has shifted under a neoliberal order that has made mentorship seem almost as archaic as chivalry, Dr. Martinez, true to his Chicano principles, has shown me the ropes and has helped me survive and thrive as a developing scholar. Dr. Martinez, a veteran himself, took interest in this manuscript, and I am both fortunate and proud to have this work featured in his Latinos in the United States Series. His editing has made this a much stronger book. A special thanks goes to the staff at ssr1 for their assistance, including Marcos Martinez, Devin Mazur, Barry Lewis, and Nabih Haddad. A note of appreciation goes to Ernesto Vigil and Dr. José Angel Gutiérrez, who spent June 2016 working on a collaborative project at Jsri. Their wisdom, knowledge, and constructive feedback aided the development of this manuscript. Likewise, the faculty, personnel, and staff at the Office of University of Outreach and Engagement (UOE) have been incredibly welcoming and helpful. Special thanks goes to Beth Prince, Debbie Stoddard, Nai KuanYang, Paul Phipps, Ghada Georgis, and Burt Bargerstcok, among others, who contribute to the healthy working environment at vor. Morning coffee talks with Drs. Jean Kayitsinga, Miles McNall, and Marcelo Siles provided a much-needed environment to bounce around ideas and that got the mind going.

Moving to Michigan, away from my natural habitat in the Rio Grande Valley in South Texas, has not been easy. Fortunately, Dr. Rubén Martinez and his family and friends, including Marcos, Clara, and Lori Brown, have

Coronado, Juan David. "i'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor xx E Acknowledgments been beyond welcoming. Dr. Martinez has also connected me with the community throughout the state, including Dr. Nino Rodriguez, who has been supportive of my work. A childhood friend, Ruben and Brenda Martinez and their family from Wisconsin have served as part of my support system in the Midwest. They, along with Rosalinda Martinez and her family, have demonstrated that adaptability for Tejanos (Texans) in the Midwest is promising and I appreciate their friendship.

Like many Chicanos, family remains at the centerfold of my life. My parents David and Josefina, my sister Yesenia Coronado and her husband Leonel Pulido Jr., and Ana Satterfield have been instrumental in the realization of this work. If not for them, I would not have the opportunity to fulfill this study. From a very young age, my parents instilled in me a blue-collar work ethic, as they themselves worked long laborious hours to provide me with an education. My sister, like my parents, has been supportive, and she has provided more than a helping hand. Ana pushed me to accept the position at Michigan State University and sacrificed much. Thank you Ana and Sophia for the pictures for the cover. I share this publication with my family and am in indebted to the friends and family who have been supportive. A special acknowledgement to a dear friend, Mr. José Omar Rivera from Mission, Texas. Apart from his encouragement, Omar provided his knowledge on Mexican Americans in the military. Through his tireless efforts this work is saturated with ample primary sources. Thanks also goes to Mr. Fred Ramos, from the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley Library, from whom I received many of those sources digitally.

I also want to acknowledge the support from the Southwest Oral History Association, especially, Sarah Moorhead, Dr. Marcia Gallo, Claytee White, Dr. Caryll Dziedziak, and the rest of the SOHA board who made it possible for me to share my work with a wider audience. Their encouragement and backing has allowed me to grow as an oral historian. I want to also thank those who provided feedback on this manuscript, including Dr. Martinez, Dr. Craig Howes, Charley Trujillo, Dr. Rumaldo Z. Juarez, and Gregg Jones. Much gratitude to John McPherson and Hai Nguyen for the Vietnamese translations. Also, a special thanks goes to the staff at the Michigan State

Coronado, Juan David. "i'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Acknowledgments E xxi

Finally, I would like to thank several of my former mentors and professors who paved the way for Mexican Americans in South Texas. These individuals had immense impact on me, both professionally and personally. Mrs. Juanita Elizondo Garza was an incredible individual and professor who served uTPA and the community in South Texas. My first mentor, Dean Rodolfo Rocha, showed me the doors to academia and, in his true Rochista manner, encouraged me until his death. Dr. José R. Hinojosa, a student of Dr. Julian Samora, had a rare style of integrating his scholarly pedagogy with a strong dose of realism, which he delivered in a manner that raza and others could adhere to. The most important lessons learned from these three professors was that we Chicanos have a place not only in this country but in academia and that the battle to improve our society is endless but worth fighting, regardless of appreciation.

Coronado, Juan David. "i'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Coronado, Juan David. "i'm Not Gonna Die In This Damn Place": Manliness, Identity, and Survival of the Mexican American Vietnam Prisoners of War. E-book, East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 2018, https://doi.org/10.14321/j.ctt1xhr7kr. Downloaded on behalf of University of Michigan, Ann Arbor

Introduction

WHILE I WAS RESEARCHING THIS BOOK, MY CURIOSITY WAS SPARKED AS clear similarities and differences among the pows became more and more evident. The most considerable difference in terms of their experiences stems from whether they were a jungle prisoner (typically infantry captured in South Vietnam) or a Hanoi prisoner (typically aviators shot down in North Vietnam, although a small fraction were shot down in Laos and South Vietnam). Those captured in South Vietnam and held in the jungle naturally faced more severe circumstances than their counterparts in North Vietnam. Illnesses such as malaria and dysentery, along with lack of nutrition and medicine, severely reduced the pow population in the South. While pows in South Vietnam claimed that they “couldn’t stop dying,”

Hanoi pows declared, “they wouldn’t let us die.”

If the prisoners died in captivity, the North Vietnamese would be held accountable and would compromise their global standing and reputation. Therefore, for the most part, American prisoners that had been identified as pows in the North had access to better health care than those captured in the South.

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