Two months after my 18th birthday, I arrived in Vietnam. The long plane ride had given me abundant time to imagine the nature of what was about to befall me. I thought that I was ready for anything. I would die for my country and come home a hero and leave a wonderful memory for my family, or I would win the war single-handedly, come home a hero and leave a wonderful memory. Like many Americans of my generation, I believed that war was glory personified. I would soon learn different.

The last stop after arriving was an information briefing by a young second lieutenant who was obviously mere months removed from organizing toga parties and throwing “Keggers” at the frat house. The young man who had yet to establish a serious relationship with a razor blade spent the next hour giving new arrivals the low-down on surviving Vietnam.

The lecture was for the most part mundane and boring. He talked of clean socks and other areas of hygiene that seemed, at least to him, to be very important. He even told the urban legend of the island where military syphilis patients were sent with such gusto that he might actually have begun the American policy of “Just say no.”

After the lecture, the young officer cleared his throat, drew himself to full height and said, “Are there any questions?” While most remained mute, I had to ask the question that I’m sure was on everyone’s mind. I raised my hand and said, “Sir, how do you tell the bad guys from the good guys?” The young man gave me a very old smile and said, “Son, there are no good guys.” He went on to explain that dead Vietnamese were always V.C. and live Vietnamese were just waiting their turn. He said that everyone in the country was an enemy and would gladly kill us if we dozed or even blinked. He stated these facts with such confidence that I assumed he was mentally ill and articulating a perverted version of military policy. I was right on both counts.

Even the most casual clinical evaluation of this young officer would have resulted in a diagnosis of raving paranoia. A simple if not clinical definition of paranoia is a mental breakdown in which one believes that unnamed and unseen enemies with your destruction in mind are everywhere. I would soon learn, however, that what the clinicians called paranoia, soldiers call reality. What the psychiatrists call psychosis, the combat veteran recognizes as an old friend with great powers.

For those of us to whom the Vietnam War is a distant and haunting memory, paranoia is an old friend to whom we owe our lives.

The jungle at night is playground for the paranoid. Sounds that in the light of day would not draw a glance seem ominous. Both flora and her sister fauna become specters that seek to surround and devour the unwary. Men with guns become nervous, anxious and frightened with man’s inhumanity to man only a trigger pull away.

This was the situation that former Sen. Bob Kerrey and his Navy SEALs team walked into one moonless night. In a small village surrounded by thick, black, terrifying darkness, professionalism gave way to insanity. The innocent died and the paranoid lived to fight another battle.

There are those who would now, some 30 years later, seek to destroy Bob Kerrey and others who at one time or another had to don the mantle of the insane just to survive. They question the men’s honesty, integrity and veracity. They need to place blame. They require punishment. And they most certainly have a deeply hidden agenda.

The voices of the Democratic Party have been strangely silent about the whole matter. The leaders of the party have seemingly abandoned the warrior in favor of investigation. Democratic members of Congress have remained mute on the subject while Republicans for the most part are dizzy with glee. Is it truth they seek or is it simply a political ploy to remove from contention any Democratic leader who might in four years win back the Oval Office?

Democrats have grown complacent and move with the agility of a drugged animal on “Wild Kingdom.” I would hope that our leadership would come forth and defend Bob Kerrey as both a great patriot and a caring and concerned statesman. I have little faith that they will do so because even as I write this they have allowed the first peal of the death knell for a woman’s right to choose. If our party does not care about human rights, then Bob Kerrey is more than likely to be left out to dry.

I believe there is a right-wing conspiracy facing any and all who would give hope to the who believe that rights not laws constitute freedom. I’m not sure if this conspiracy is vast or half-vast, but it is real and it is dangerous.

Our party leaders have sent the message that they will not fight the Bush administration. Many believe that Bush is mentally incapable of doing a great deal of harm. But I believe that like a monkey driving the space shuttle, sooner or later he will pull the wrong lever.

It is with this in mind that I call on the Democratic Party, both state and federal, to show a little backbone. Speak out on behalf of Bob Kerrey whenever possible. It’s obvious that a show of support for him would go a long way in bringing back the people who have lost faith. If something is not done to show how Democrats feel about heroes, then I will have to take all my bumper stickers and my one vote and change affiliations.

I believe there is a crisis looming for our country. A battle of values that may determine whether we are free or subjects of the Republican Party is looming. But I could be wrong. Hell, I’m paranoid.

David Daniel Beckom is a resident of Easton.