From the WSJ Opinion Archives
AT THE MOVIES
We Were Soldiers,
Not Baby Killers
Hollywood finally recovers from Vietnam syndrome.
Sometime after the 1983 liberation of Grenada, Ronald Reagan observed that one of the important achievements of the operation was that it helped get America over Vietnam. No longer was every military campaign destined to be another lost, aimless war. This weekend, Hollywood finally caught up to the Gipper. No longer is every movie about Vietnam destined to portray the war as aimless and immoral.
Mel Gibson's new film "We Were Soldiers" tells a story of the first major American military engagement in Vietnam, the Ia Drang Valley battle of November 1965. The film focuses on some 400 American soldiers, inserted miles into hostile territory, who fought thousands of North Vietnamese army troops. They were surrounded for three days but fought on with bravery and honor--principled men vs. a determined, well-equipped foe. The Americans end up killing nearly 2,000 of the enemy and winning the battle.
What elevates the film is that it's a true story about Vietnam. Hollywood simply hasn't been able to tell a true story that portrays Americans as the good guys in that conflict in a long time. Take a look at "Full Metal Jacket," which follows a few Marines through basic training and into the war. One Marine becomes a reporter and sports a peace sign and the words "born to kill" on his helmet. It ends with the Marines singing the "Mickey Mouse Club" tune after a senseless battle. Or "Born on the Fourth of July," in which Tom Cruise plays an American soldier who becomes a paraplegic and joins the peace movement.
"Saving Private Ryan" paved the way for such gory, realistic war movies. But even that World War II portrayal of the search for one man in the confusion of war is fiction. "Black Hawk Down" is a true story. But it differs from "We Were Soldiers" in that nearly everyone admits the shootout in Somalia was the bad consequence of aimless foreign policy--many just don't want to admit it was Bill Clinton who didn't have a clear sense of what he was doing and thus his policy hung those men out to dry.
"We Were Soldiers" smashes most of the stock images of Vietnam that Hollywood has created over the years. The GIs never criticize the war or ask why they're fighting. Some are even happy to be there--the first American killed in battle dies saying, "I'm glad I can die for my country." To many in Hollywood, Vietnam was such an immoral war for this country to wage that it could only leave those who fought it confused, violent or insane--hence Rambo. Not so in Mr. Gibson's movie. None of the soldiers go crazy, join the peace movement or turn out to be weirdoes. They're God-fearing, devoted husbands who fight with courage and honor. The only thing that's abnormal about their return home is that not all of them are welcomed at the airport--a criticism not of the war, but of those who protested it.
Even the wives don't question the justness of the war. When they start receiving telegrams breaking the news their husbands are dead, they don't ask "Why are we fighting?" Instead they say, we all knew this could happen and we accepted it.
Prayer is a strong element of the movie too. Several references are made to riding off to the "valley of death." Mr. Gibson's character, Lt. Col. Harold Moore, prays with his children at night before they go to sleep. His daughter Cecile, says she doesn't want to say the Hail Mary. She wants pray "like mommy." Not because she doesn't want to pray, but because she wants to pray in her own way. Mr. Gibson gets her to say the prayer by asking if she wants to pray for mommy and the whole family. And even mommy grabs the rosary when she thinks Mr. Gibson is dead.
Prayer is important because it adds a human element to Mr. Gibson's character and because it makes it clear that Lt. Col. Moore sees this as a moral struggle--a perception he shares with his men, as he kneels down on an altar with one of them and asks for God's help in battle--and for God to ignore the "heathen prayers" of his enemy.
After the battle, a different kind of journalist arrives on the scene. These wimpy liberal reporters cower each time a mortar goes off. The reporter who fought through the battle casually says not to fear, those are American mortar rounds. He doesn't cower. The other reporters ask him what happened. He doesn't answer. The reporters then run over to Mr. Gibson and ask him how it feels to have so many of his men killed. Obviously they have no appreciation for the magnitude of the events that just transpired.
But if the woman crying behind me in the theater was any indication, the audience does. One of the men to die in battle was Lt. John L. Geoghegan, who had seen his first child born just a few days before heading off to war. One of the final scenes is a shot of his name carved into the black marble of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. The film closes with a list all the names of the Americans who died in the battle.
One of the enduring images of Vietnam--which "We Were Soldiers" supports--is that the war was lost by the politicians. Before leaving for Vietnam, Mr. Gibson's character remarks that LBJ didn't declare a state of emergency, which means a third of his men wouldn't have their enlistments extended. A third of his men would have to be replaced by unseasoned GIs on the eve of battle. Mr. Gibson also is repeatedly ordered off the field by his superiors who fear the Americans will be massacred; they don't want a colonel killed along with the grunts. Mr. Gibson refuses to leave his men and he is literally the last man to step off the battlefield.
Of course, there will be times when those tactics don't work perfectly. In the film, air strikes are used effectively to stop the enemy from overrunning the American positions. But one air strike hits too close, killing and maiming American soldiers with napalm. A similar "friendly fire" accident happened in Afghanistan.
"Friendly fire" is possibly the hardest fire to take, which is probably why "We Were Soldiers" isn't finding very many good reviews and will likely be shunned by the California set. That doesn't in any way diminish its importance on the world stage.
Mr. Miniter is assistant editor of OpinionJournal.com.
