Profile in service: Kruse reflects on time in Vietnam

By Audrey Posten | Times-Register

Jerry Kruse was raised on a dairy and hog farm near Monona and graduated from high school in 1965, the same year the United States officially entered the Vietnam War. But rather than wait to be selected, he and two friends opted to volunteer for the draft in October 1967.

“Might as well get it over with,” he recalled. 

He and friend Ed Parker went to Army basic training in Fort Bliss, Texas, and it was there they were encouraged to become paratroopers. After stops at Fort Gordon, Ga., for advanced infantry training and Fort Benning, Ga., for jump school, Kruse arrived in Vietnam in May 1968.

“I ended up with the 173rd Airborne Brigade, which is a smaller but pretty good unit. Our battalion was up in Bong Son,” Kruse said. “When we got there, Tet was still going on. The worst was over, but it wasn’t officially said it was over for about another four months. Sometimes, there would be some action and other times not so much. We’d have a couple, three weeks of boredom, then five minutes of ‘Wow! How’d this happen?’”

Early on, Kruse was asked to be a gunner. He was on an 81-mm mortar, a heavy piece that wasn’t conducive to jungle use.

“Too much overhead stuff,” Kruse said, “so we did some time in fire support bases. About half the time we carried it out in the field.”

He carried the 42-pound bipod in addition to three days of rations, water, ammunition and hand grenades.

“We were loaded down pretty heavy. Everybody was,” he said.

No treat in a hot, humid environment.

“The days were usually in the 90s, sometimes over 100. Humidity was always there. You sweated a lot,” Kruse recalled.

Canteens were filled in streams, then one or two halazone tablets were dropped inside to purify the water. Kruse said all the guys wanted Kool-Aid to cover the taste.

“We drank a lot of Kool-Aid with our warm water,” he said. “Food was C-rations. Ham and lima beans, nobody ate them, but the rest wasn’t too bad. Just the same thing over and over.”

Like the food, service members were kept on a schedule, rotating three weeks in the field and one week in the rear and then perimeter guard for the rear echelon. 

“That gave you a chance for your feet to heal up. You got wet a lot,” Kruse described. “It was kind of like athlete’s foot. You’d powder up and keep your boots off as much as you could when you’re sitting in your bunker.” 

Luckily, the boots—with canvas sides and steel plated bottoms to protect soldiers’ feet from nails and booby traps—dried fairly easily.

Field assignments could be in the mountains or lowlands. The lowlands were where more people lived in villages, and Kruse said a Vietnamese interpreter was crucial in speaking with villagers.

“[The interpreter] would say, ‘Hey, they’re lying’ or ‘Hey, they’re clean,’” he said.

The mountains had more base camps. Many times, service members wouldn’t even notice when they walked into one, the camps were so well camouflaged, noted Kruse. “Then everything would hit the fan.”

At fire bases, Kruse and others were also on perimeter guard, with a little duty during the day and always two hours at night. They preferred first or last shifts, rather than in the middle of the night. Either way, one didn’t sleep well. 

“I can remember sometimes being on guard and saying, ‘What was that? Are my ears playing tricks on me?’ You’d throw a hand grenade out and see what was going on. Usually it was a little animal running through the bushes. It was tense,” he said.

Down time included a lot of card playing. Kruse said 500 Rummy would often turn into games of 5,000 Rummy. 

“We’d start in the morning and go all day,” he quipped. “We also cleaned our weapons every day.”

Servicemen also wrote a lot of letters. Kruse and his parents wrote one another weekly, and he also communicated with friends back home. He was surprised to find it took only a week for letters to reach their destination.

“The Army was a big stickler on mail. They wanted to get it to you fast and get yours back home fast,” he shared. “Every time we got resupplied, they would bring our mail out to us. You looked forward to resupply days.”

Kruse also enjoyed getting to know his fellow squad members. They hailed from New York to California to Texas, all 19 years old or in their early 20s. Kruse was one of the oldest at 21.

“I look back on it and think, ‘We were just boys,’” he reflected. “We all got along. We watched each other’s backs. There were no prejudices. You were closer to them than your family back home. Somebody would get a letter and they’d say, ‘Oh, what’s grandma up to?’ You knew their families, what they liked and didn’t like, what you could talk about.”

Kruse was in Vietnam 13 months. Some of the memories still stick with him.

“I used to have dreams, and I don’t have them now. I’ve gone beyond that,” he said. “But, once in awhile, I’ll think about some of the combat situations and how we did on those. We did pretty good. On a hot day, or sometimes you’ll hear a helicopter flying here, and you kind of get that rush. It will bring back a little memory.” 

The hardest part was integrating back into life in northeast Iowa.

“Five days after I left Vietnam, I was back on the block and it was weird. I thought everybody had changed, and it was me. I’m the one who’s changed. It was kind of an epiphany,” Kruse said. “For awhile, I really wanted to re-enlist. I told my mom I was worried about my boys. I was the squad leader. She started to cry and I thought, ‘I can’t do that to her. I can’t put her through another year.’ So I stayed out.” 

“It was crazy,” added Kruse, “because, when you’re over there, all you can think about was going home. Then, when you’re home, all you wanted to do was go back. I guess I missed the camaraderie.” 

Kruse said it helped to talk with his friend Ed Parker, who arrived home two months later, as well as Brad Lenth from Farmersburg.

“It was good therapy,” he acknowledged. “At that point, they didn’t talk about PTSD. They didn’t know what it was, and I’m sure we had it.”

Kruse eventually went back to college and earned a degree. With ongoing riots and peace demonstrations, he didn’t broadcast his military service. His tattooed arm was often covered by a long sleeve shirt. 

“You didn’t want people to know you were a veteran because sometimes people called you names,” Kruse said.

After college, Kruse farmed with his dad, then went into sales, before starting a career as an engineer with the railroad. He also had two children.

He also became involved with veterans organizations. Now a McGregor resident, Kruse is a member of the Pocket City post in town as well as the Monona AMVETS. He often helps with military weapons salutes at veterans’ funerals.

“It’s good to send the boys off that way. We do what we can,” he said.

Kruse also regularly attends Veterans Day observances at MFL MarMac School. He believes the programs are important not just for veterans, but for younger generations to understand what Veterans Day—and veterans—are all about.

“I think the history books are going to put Vietnam into a paragraph, kind of like Korea. It gives them a chance to hear some stories,” he said. 

Kruse appreciates the heartfelt “thanks for your service” regards from attendees. When he got back from Vietnam, those were rare.

He’s proud of his service.

“From the day I went in to take the oath to the day I got out, I’ve never regretted it, and I’d have done it again,” he shared.