In my search for pieces of dad, I found myself looking for anything related to his life as a soldier. It took over a year of submitting multiple requests for access to his military records. In the application, you have to indicate what you are looking for and why. I asked for records with names of his units, medals and of course, for me, the most important record, pictures. I had my heart set on finding a picture of him in uniform for my genealogy research.
After months and months of waiting, the envelope finally arrived. It didn’t look too thick, but I was glad it wasn’t a single letter sized envelope noting there was nothing found. I asked the girls to open the envelope with me. I just didn’t want to be alone with whatever was in there.
I skimmed the letter, scanned the documents and there it was, on the last page, a picture of my dad, Manuel Pacheco, Jr.

United States Army

I was excited to see dad as a clean shaven young man, but the look in his eyes and the worry lines on his face told a story I could only guess. The longer I stared at the picture, the more questions I had. Was it taken as he entered or as he left the military? I compared his graduation picture to this only picture of record to see if I could determine when it was taken. Based on what looks like a much darker complexion from possible sun exposure and those glazed over eyes, this had to be taken after his time in Vietnam. When I look at the pictures side by side, I see the same man at heart. They were separated by only a few years but also by a life time of experience. I see the youth and optimism fade into the face of war. It’s deep in his eyes and etched in his face.

I know he enlisted. It was a voluntary decision at 18 years old, but did he really know what he was getting into? Did he know what he would have to endure? All for the hope of a better life, a chance at education he would otherwise not have. I wonder if he thought it was worth it all.
I look at this young man, this clean shaven soldier who voluntary served his country, was injured and returned home to be turned away, to be yelled at and spit on by war protesters, at least that’s the story dad told. I remember once dad and I were watching the news and we saw some soldiers coming home to parades and cheers and welcoming people. He just stared through the TV and said something like ‘we never got that kind of welcome.’ I wanted to ask him if he could chose again, would he enlist, but I knew better. I didn’t ask questions like that.
Even before really digging into the details of the military records, I had to just sit with them; literally, sit with them. I held each document and thought about my dad and his mom, my grandma Lala. As a mom of two boys, I couldn’t imagine what she thought or felt about her son going off to war. I wonder if he ever wrote home. How worried she must have been all those years he was away and how relieved she must have been to have him back home. I saw a heartbreaking statistic that 61% of soldiers killed in Vietnam were younger than 21. Dad was one of the lucky ones to make it back in one piece, at least on the outside.
I had the choice to request medical records, but decided against it. There were war injury stories he openly shared about getting shot in the back while he was on his way home. He was not shy about showing us the scars of his skin grafts on his arm and leg and scars from his back surgery. What I didn’t know, was none of my business and I didn’t feel compelled to look into his medical records.
After several days of reflecting and sitting with the documents, I was ready to start really digging into the details but first, I wanted to read up on the Vietnam War. I had been reluctant to really learn about the war because I knew very little about dad’s time in the service. I had no clue what applied to his time and experience. Now, with this new information, I had a little bit more to go on.
I have to admit, I was overwhelmed by the extent of the information I found, but it was so interesting to be able to place dad’s time in the service alongside history. Intriguing as it was, I felt like I was getting too deep into “research” and really losing the purpose of my search for context.
A few things I pieced together was that at the time dad enlisted, 1961, the Vietnam War had not officially started. It wasn’t clear that there was an actual start date, but there are many milestone dates. What I understood the “war” to be, was actually in 1965 when the ground war begin and thousands of troops were sent to Vietnam. Then campus protests grew louder and the Vietnam war was all over TV. At that point, dad was already back home in the United States recovering from his injuries.
So, it turns out dad’s first unit in Vietnam is listed as a MAAG-Military Assistance and Advisory Group. What I gathered from my search is that in the early 1960’s the military sent over special personnel to assist with setting up a communication system before things really started to turn into an official war time situation. Later that year, he was assigned to an official unit. I’m not sure at what point he saw combat, but he did. Official or unofficial, there was a war going on and young men were dying and putting their lives on the line to build the infrastructure to eventually sustain an all out war. Dad had the scars, both inside and out to prove it. The way dad would tell it, they could not fire unless fired upon.
As much as I wanted to keep reading the details of the war, I turned my attention to the documents. What I received were several service documents and his DD214, separation papers. I already had a copy of the DD214, but it was interesting to note that the copy they provided had his “race” whited out and written over it with “n/a.” I double checked the copy I had and his race was listed as “Caucasian.” I know back then, Latinos were often labeled “Caucasian” on official records. That small detail infuriated me and reminded me how Latinos are often “whited out” of American history, but our Latino bodies were good enough to send to the front line.
Even though I had a copy of the DD214 since 1993, I didn’t really have a context for all the information on the form and didn’t really give it a second thought. Taking another look at it now, in context with the other documents, a little internet research and some help from Jennifer and her military expertise, here are some facts that helped me piece together a picture of dad’s life as a soldier.

Dad’s military records

While in the military, dad went to Signal school, which determined which bases he would be transferred to and which units he would be assigned. He trained as a Communications Center Specialist and more specifically, a Cryptographer. Mom says he was “the radio man” and didn’t carry a weapon. He also received training on the Military Justice Code of Conduct. The records show he was trained on two specific types of rifles and received two medals including the Good Conduct Medal and the Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal (for his time in combat). He was promoted in rank to Private First Class E-3 at the time of his honorable discharge on May 31, 1967. He had served 3 years in total with his time in Vietnam totally, One Year, One Month and One Day.

Good Conduct Medal

Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal

I was most fascinated by the Chronological Service Record. There it was, in black and white, all the bases and units in a perfect timeline. All this time, I wondered about where he was stationed and what units he was assigned; and there it was. It’s amazing to think that the sum of his experience could be documented in thirteen lines on a piece of paper, but it was him all the same.
It never occurred to me that he spent more time out of Vietnam, than in Vietnam. I just always assumed he enlisted and went straight over to Vietnam and returned home, but what the records show is something different.
Over a three year period, he went from Ft. Hood, TX for basic training to Ft. Gordon, GA, for Signal School back to Ft. Hood, then left from Travis Air Force Base in California to Saigon, Vietnam, and finally left Tan Son Nhut Vietnam, back to the United States through Travis Air Force Base where he was finally stationed at Ft. Huachuca, AZ.
I was so curious about the bases and units I decided to focused on looking for visual representations. I learned that each unit and even the Signal school have their own insignia’s. I did my best trying to connect the units and dates with the correct insignia.

142nd Signal Battalion

Ft. Hood, TX

Signal School

Ft. Gordon, GA

MAAG (Military Assistance and Advisory Group)

Vietnam

39th Signal Battalion

Vietnam

72nd Signal Battalion

Ft. Huachuca, AZ

Looking at the insignia’s helps me feel connected to dad. To me, I see them as symbols of his identity as a soldier and his purpose in the military. I feel proud and sad at the same time. I don’t know what feelings he would have had looking at them as a veteran. He was never one for attending military parades or wearing any kind of veteran or military related clothing. I think they reminded him of his deep dark secrets, of what he witnessed, what he was asked to do and a reminder of those he lost in Vietnam. At the same time, I do know he was proud to have served his country.
Below are images of bases I found in my image search of the four bases Ft. Hood, TX; Ft. Gordon GA; Camp Gaylor; and Ft. Huachuca; that I believe he was stationed during the time periods. I’m not 100% sure of their accuracy but I just wanted a visual of where he might have lived during that time. I also found a random picture of what I imagined might be something related to his duty as a communications specialist. I used this picture purely to give me a visual representation, and not an exact picture of his job.

There are some missing pieces in the records, for example, his last unit assignment shows an end date of 1964, which accounts for his 3 years total documented in his record; but there is another record that shows his discharge date as May 31, 1967. I’m sure there is an explanation somewhere, but those details are not as important and the details of the official start of the war or the official insignia’s are not what I wanted to focus on and share.
To be honest, I’m not sure if I’ll continue to search for Manuel Pacheco, Jr’s life as a soldier. I found my picture, got my dates and units and I feel pretty content. This glimpse into dad’s life as a solider is as far as I want to go into a private and sensitive world of a Vietnam Veteran. I learned a lot and feel like I know more about dad, but the deep dark secrets he kept inside, are his to keep.

Rest in Peace Manuel Pacheco, Jr.

For my sisters who may want to do their own “digging” below are some places to start.

http://www.history.army.mil/html/books/060/60-15-1/cmh_pub_60-15-1.pdf
http://the178th.tripod.com/2011/hist-39th.html
http://huachuca-www.army.mil/pages/history.html
http://www.5sigcmd.army.mil/units/72ND/index.htm
http://www.5sigcmd.army.mil/units/39TH/index.htm
ARMY GOOD CONDUCT MEDAL http://www.afpc.af.mil/library/factsheets/factsheet.asp?id=7791