When Soldiers Chose To Return to Vietnam

When Soldiers Chose To Return to Vietnam

 

These weren’t all gung-ho patriots or warriors addicted to killing. The reasons were complex, some professional, some psychological, some chemical. Understanding why soldiers chose to return reveals truths about combat, readjustment, and what happens when the war zone becomes more comprehensible than home. The re-enlistment statistics tell the first part of the story and contradict the narrative that every soldier was counting days until they could leave Vietnam.

During the peak war years of 1967 to 1969, in-country re-enlistment rates for certain units reached levels that shocked even military planners. Elite units showed the highest rates. Special Forces, Rangers, MACV-SOG, and Airborne divisions had soldiers extending tours or requesting return assignments at rates far exceeding normal peacetime re-enlistment.

The 101st Airborne Division documented re-enlistment rates among combat veterans of approximately 40% during 1968, meaning two out of five eligible soldiers chose to stay or return rather than rotate home. For a division seeing heavy combat and significant casualties, this rate was extraordinary. MACV-SOG had even higher return rates.

Approximately 60% of Special Operations Group personnel who completed tours requested return assignments. Many SOG veterans served three, four, or five tours in Vietnam, spending years in the most dangerous operations the military conducted. Helicopter pilots showed similar patterns.

 The critical shortage of experienced pilots meant that volunteers for second and third tours received immediate approval and often promotion. Many pilots served 2,000 to 3,000 combat flight hours across multiple tours, far exceeding the standard 12-month rotation. The overall Army re-enlistment rate for soldiers who’d served in Vietnam was approximately 65% during 1968 to 1970, compared to 55% for soldiers who hadn’t deployed.

 Combat veterans were more likely to re-enlist than soldiers who’d never seen action. These statistics contradict the image of universal opposition to the war among those fighting it. A substantial percentage of combat veterans chose to continue serving, and many specifically requested return to Vietnam rather than stateside assignments.

The reasons behind these choices were complicated and often dark. The psychological factors that drove soldiers back to combat revealed how profoundly war changed them. The reverse culture shock of returning home was documented in numerous VA studies conducted during and after the war. Soldiers who’d spent a year in intense combat environment where every decision had life or death consequences found civilian life incomprehensible and meaningless.

The constant state of alertness and heightened awareness that kept soldiers alive in Vietnam became unbearable to turn off at home. The mundane concerns of civilian life, traffic jams, workplace politics, consumer decisions, seemed absurd to men who’d recently been making decisions about life and death. One sergeant interviewed for a 1970 Army study described returning home and finding he couldn’t relate to anyone.

His family talked about television shows and neighborhood gossip while he was processing the deaths of soldiers in his squad. The disconnect was total. Within 3 months, he’d requested return to Vietnam where life made sense to him. The sense of purpose that combat provided was addictive for many soldiers.

 In Vietnam, the mission was clear even if the strategic objectives weren’t. Keep your men alive, accomplish the tactical objective, survive till tomorrow. The simplicity and intensity of that purpose was something civilian life couldn’t match. Veterans described feeling useless and aimless at home. In Vietnam, they were infantry sergeants, helicopter pilots, special forces operators, roles with clear importance and immediate feedback.

At home, they were unemployed veterans or workers in jobs that felt meaningless compared to what they’d been doing. The brotherhood of combat created bonds that civilian relationships couldn’t replicate. Soldiers who’d spent months depending on each other for survival developed intimacy and trust that family and old friends couldn’t understand or match.

Many veterans felt isolated at home despite being surrounded by people. The only humans who understood their experience were back in Vietnam. Returning to combat meant returning to the only community they belonged. The combat addiction itself, what would later be understood as component of PTSD, drove soldiers back to war.

 The adrenaline, the hyper-vigilance, the intensity of combat created physiological and psychological dependence that made peacetime feel like deprivation. Veterans described civilian life as being in slow motion, colorless, numb. After months of heightened sensory experience where everything mattered intensely, normal life felt like being sedated.

 The only place they felt alive was back in combat. A 1971 VA psychological study documented what researchers called combat syndrome. Veterans who experienced severe anxiety, depression, and inability to function in civilian environments, but who functioned effectively in combat zones. For these men, war wasn’t traumatic, peacetime was traumatic.

This created perverse situation where soldiers with clear PTSD symptoms chose to return to the source of their trauma because it was more tolerable than trying to readjust to civilian life. The combat zone became their normal and anything else felt wrong. The drug addiction factor created another powerful pull back to Vietnam that’s often overlooked in discussions of voluntary returns.

By 1970-1971, heroin use among troops in Vietnam was epidemic. Estimates suggest 15 to 20% of soldiers used heroin at least occasionally with 10 to 12% being regular users. The heroin available in Vietnam was exceptionally pure and cheap. A vial cost a few dollars that would be hundreds in the United States.

Soldiers who became addicted to heroin in Vietnam faced horrible choice when their tours ended. Return home meant facing withdrawal without the drug that had become essential or they could extend their tours and maintain access to cheap pure heroin. The extension for drug access happened more than officially acknowledged.

Personnel officers learned to recognize the signs. Soldiers requesting extensions despite having no apparent career or mission motivation, often looking physically deteriorated, frequently from rear area units where drug use was most prevalent. Some addicted soldiers would rotate home, go through withdrawal, then re-enlist and request return to Vietnam to access heroin again.

 The cycle would repeat: service in Vietnam, addiction, return home, withdrawal, desperation, re-enlistment, return to Vietnam and drugs. The military’s response to this pattern was complicated. They needed experienced soldiers and officially couldn’t deny re-enlistment or extension requests based on suspected drug use without proof.

 So, addicted soldiers were allowed to stay or return even when their motivations were obvious. The marijuana users faced less severe chemical dependency but similar pattern. Cannabis was everywhere in Vietnam. Soldiers smoked before patrols, in base camps, even in combat in some units. The pervasive availability and social acceptance made Vietnam attractive to users who faced criminalization and difficulty accessing marijuana at home.

One veteran interviewed for oral history project stated bluntly that he extended his tour partly because he couldn’t afford his drug habit in the United States, but could maintain it cheaply in Vietnam. The honesty was rare, but the pattern was common. The professional military considerations drove another category of voluntary returns.

 Professional soldiers who needed combat experience for promotion and advancement. For NCOs and officers, Vietnam was the only war available. Combat leadership experience was essential for career advancement, and those who wanted to rise through the ranks needed multiple combat tours on their records. The promotion system heavily favored combat experience.

 Officers and NCOs with multiple Vietnam tours advanced faster than those with single tours or no combat experience. The competitive pressure to return was intense for anyone who wanted a career in military. A sergeant first class with one Vietnam tour competing against one with three tours for promotion to master sergeant faced a disadvantage.

 The three-tour veteran had more experience, more credibility, and better performance evaluations from combat service. The financial incentives for voluntary extension or return were significant. Combat pay, tax exemptions, and hardship allowances meant soldiers made substantially more money in Vietnam than stateside.

 For career soldiers supporting families, the financial calculation favored staying in combat zone. The command opportunities were also better in Vietnam. Young officers could command companies and battalions at ages when they’d be staff officers stateside. The accelerated responsibility and authority was attractive to ambitious officers who wanted command experience.

One officer interviewed explained that he could command an infantry company in combat at age 25 in Vietnam or work as assistant operations officer at some stateside post. The choice was obvious for someone who wanted a career in military. Go where the action and opportunity were. The specific mission commitment drove many voluntary returns.

 Experienced soldiers who believed their expertise was essential to keeping new soldiers alive. The constant rotation of personnel meant units were always filled with FNGs, [ __ ] new guys, who arrived in Vietnam with minimal training and no combat experience. Experienced soldiers watched these kids make mistakes that got them killed.

The guilt of leaving when you had knowledge that could save lives was overwhelming for many veterans. They’d survived because experienced soldiers had taught them. The obligation to do the same for the next generation pulled them back. Squad leaders and platoon sergeants particularly felt this responsibility.

They’d developed expertise in keeping men alive through hundreds of patrols and firefights. Walking away and letting inexperienced NCOs take over meant the new guys would die unnecessarily. One platoon sergeant described extending his tour because he couldn’t live with the knowledge that soldiers in his platoon would from mistakes he could prevent if he stayed.

 The mathematics were brutal. His extended tour might cost his relationship with his wife and his mental health, but it would save lives. He stayed. The helicopter pilots felt a similar obligation. Medevac pilots knew their experience meant the difference between successful extractions and crashes that killed wounded soldiers and crews.

 Many extended or returned specifically to keep flying rescue missions because they couldn’t bear the thought of less experienced pilots failing and men dying as a result. The individual case of Colonel David Hackworth exemplifies multiple motivations for voluntary return, professional ambition, mission commitment, and eventually profound disillusionment despite continuing to serve.

Hackworth was already a decorated combat veteran from Korea when Vietnam began. He volunteered for Vietnam and arrived in 1965 to take command of units that were struggling with both enemy and with their own tactics. He served his first tour, returned to the United States, and immediately requested return to Vietnam.

 He believed the Army’s attrition strategy was wrong and that he could implement counterinsurgency tactics that would be more effective and save American lives. Hackworth returned for second tour and took command of 4/39 Infantry Regiment, a unit with poor performance and low morale. He implemented aggressive small unit tactics, intensive training, and emphasis on intelligence-driven rather than random search and destroy missions. The results were dramatic.

 The 4/39 became one of the most effective battalions in Vietnam with high enemy kill ratios and low friendly casualties. Hackworth’s methods worked and he received rapid promotions and medals. But he kept requesting return tours, ultimately serving nearly 5 years in Vietnam across multiple assignments. His motivation shifted from career advancement to mission obsession.

 He believed he could make a difference, that his tactics could win the war, or at least save American lives. By his fourth and fifth tours, Hackworth had become disillusioned with the overall strategy and the generals running the war, but he still believed he could help at tactical level. The contradiction, knowing the war was being lost strategically while fighting effectively tactically, drove him to keep returning.

Hackworth eventually went public with criticisms of the war’s conduct in 1971, giving explosive interview to ABC News where he condemned the leadership and strategy while praising the soldiers. The interview ended his army career, but vindicated many of his tactical criticisms. His case shows how voluntary return could stem from multiple motivations simultaneously.

 Career ambition, tactical professionalism, mission commitment, and ultimately frustrated idealism trying to save lives in a war he knew was being lost. The Special Operations Group represents the most extreme pattern of voluntary returns, with many operators serving three to five tours in the most dangerous missions of the war.

SOG conducted classified operations in Laos, Cambodia, and North Vietnam. Missions so dangerous that casualty rates approached 100% in some periods. Teams inserted by helicopter into denied territory conducted reconnaissance or direct action and hoped to be extracted before being overrun. The skill set required was specialized, the training intensive, and the experience irreplaceable.

 SOG operators who survived tours became extraordinarily valuable because they knew how to function in those conditions. The military wanted them back and many chose to return. The reasons SOG personnel returned were a mixture of all the factors discussed: the professional challenge and importance of missions, the brotherhood with other operators, the inability to readjust to normal life after months of operating in enemy territory, the sense that new operators needed experienced leadership.

 But, there was an additional factor. Many SOG operators were essentially addicted to the intensity of the missions. The operations were so dangerous and required such complete focus that they created altered states of consciousness. Normal life felt boring and pointless compared to that intensity. One SOG veteran described it as feeling most alive when closest to death.

 The reconnaissance missions deep in enemy territory required such total awareness and generated such intense experience that nothing in civilian life could compare. He served five tours because he couldn’t live without that experience. The Marine Corps showed different pattern with voluntary returns driven by institutional culture and unit cohesion, rather than individual motivations.

Marine tradition emphasized that Marines don’t abandon Marines. The culture of the Corps created pressure to return for additional tours, rather than let other Marines fight without experienced leadership. This wasn’t official policy, but cultural expectation. Marine NCOs, particularly, felt this obligation.

 The Corps invested heavily in NCO development and expected staff sergeants and gunnery sergeants to lead from the front. Declining to return for second tour after gaining combat experience was viewed as abandoning that responsibility. The result was that Marine infantry units often had higher percentages of multi-tour veterans than equivalent Army units.

The Marines who returned did so partly from individual choice, but partly from cultural pressure that made not returning seem like betrayal of core values. The aftermath of these voluntary returns showed mixed outcomes. Some soldiers who extended or returned served successfully and felt they’d made the right choice.

Others suffered consequences that destroyed their lives. The extended combat exposure increased PTSD severity for many veterans. Those who served multiple tours showed higher rates of severe PTSD, substance abuse, and difficulty readjusting after finally leaving Vietnam. The marriages and relationships of multi-tour veterans failed at rates exceeding single-tour veterans.

The extended absence and the deepening psychological changes from repeated combat made relationships unsustainable. Some veterans who’d voluntarily re- turned later expressed regret. The additional tours hadn’t made the difference they hoped. The war was still lost, the friends they tried to save still died, and they’d sacrificed years of their lives and their mental health for outcome that didn’t justify the cost.

But others maintained that returning was right choice. They’d saved lives. They’d served with honor. They’d done what their training, ethics, and sense of duty required. The personal costs were high, but the alternative of not returning would have been worse. The broader lesson from soldiers who chose to return to Vietnam is that war creates psychological changes that make peacetime intolerable for some veterans.

The combat zone becomes normal and civilian life becomes foreign. The modern military recognizes this pattern and provides more support for reintegration, but the fundamental dynamic persists. Some percentage of combat veterans will struggle with civilian life and will view return to combat as solution rather than problem.

If you’re a veteran who voluntarily returned to Vietnam or know someone who did, your account matters to understanding this aspect of the war. The comments are open. For everyone else, understanding why soldiers chose to go back to Vietnam reveals how combat changes people and how sometimes the war zone seems safer and more comprehensible than peace.

Share this video to preserve these accounts of soldiers who returned to Vietnam by choice. Subscribe for more content examining Vietnam beyond the simple narratives. Thank you for watching. The soldiers who chose to return to Vietnam made decisions that seemed incomprehensible to those who hadn’t experienced combat, but those decisions reveal profound truths about war’s psychological impact.