An oral history with Thomas Raymond LaVille born September 20th, 1944 in Mason City Iowa. LaVille was drafted at the age of 25, despite being an only child, a school teacher, having a newborn child at home, and having previously broken his third cervical   and would go on to serve in both the 1st Infantry Division, colloquially known as "The Big Red One", and the 25th Infantry Division also known as "Tropic Lightning" During his time in-country LaVille served as an infantryman serving as a member of an M60 Machine Gun Crew, a Radio Telephone Operator, among other jobs. Upon being reassigned to the 25th Infantry Division LaVille served out the rest of his tour as a computer analyst. 

Thomas LaVille was born on September 20th, 1944 in Mason City Iowa to Clarence and Maxine LaVille, two hardworking Irish-American small business owners. The only child of a couple who had already spent over a decade together, LaVille had a loving and positive relationship with his parents, but some of his fondest memories are of his alone time with his childhood dog. 

Growing up in the post-war boom and the early days of the Cold War LaVille has distinct memories of the Red Scare and the fearmongering carried out by the House Un-American Activities Committee and Senator Joseph McCarthy. 

LaVille spent his youth split between various jobs, often in his parents grocery store, and having fun with his friends. One of these excursions included a trip to the nearby Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa where as a teenager LaVille witnessed the last performance of Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and the Big Bopper the night before their tragic death in a plane crash. 

As a young teenager during a trip with friends to a local lake LaVille dove to the bottom and proceeded to hit his head on the lakebed. Out of embarrassment he kept this fact hidden from his parents for almost a year until he started experiencing chronic headaches. Upon going to the doctor and X-Ray was taken and it was discovered that he had damaged his third cervical vertebrae. Neck soreness and the chronic headaches were to be a fact of life, but the doctor offered up as a consolation the belief that he'd never be drafted. 

After being transfered out of the 1st, LaVille remembers being in a large tent with the rest of the men who had been reassigned to the 25th Infantry Division, based out of Cu Chi.  While there an officer asked if any of them were able to type, initially hesitant as they had experience times where being asked if you could type was merely an excuse to get men to unload typewriters from a truck LaVille was convinced by Jerry, who was a constant presence and friend during his tour to find out more. The officer then asked who could type at least 30 words per minute, hands went down, then he went up to 50, more hands went down but LaVille kept his up, and up and up the WPM went and he kept his hand raised. Eventually a small group was told they would be taking a typing test, and if they were not able to perform as promised they would be sent to an isolated listening post as punishment. When LaVille reported to the Sergeant he was told to meet he admitted that he could type maybe 35 WPM, Having some sympathy and perhaps respecting his boldness the sergeant instead had LaVille designated as a 'computer analyst' and that was his job for the rest of his tour. 

As a computer analyst LaVille's job consisted of consolidating the data given to him by the typist pool and feeding it into the computer which operated off of punch cards, this would generate a morning report that he would then take to his superiors. LaVille talked about how nice of a change of pace it was to have something resembling a regular job, as well as being able to take a shower daily. It was also at this job that he developed a sort of personal realtionship with General William Westmoreland, whome he often gave the report directly too. 

LaVille recounted one morning where he arrived at the building where he normally dropped of his report and was confronted by a Major he had never met. When the Major questioned what he was doing he replied that he was simply there to drop off his report to the general, the Major demanded it and he refused saying that it was only supposed to go the general. The Major became furious and told him to report to his commanding officer. On the way to his CO LaVille used what he called his Viet Nam walk, a slow deliberate walk designed to go as slow as possible in order to pass time, when he returned to the Major repeating what he had previously told him the Major threatened him with military discipline, just then the General showed up, threw his arm around LaVille's shoulder and told the Major, "any time you see this man you let him right on in" and escorted LaVille into the building himself. LaVille admitted he had no reason to not give the report to the Major but has always been bothered by those who exercise authority or pull rank for no reason other than a power trip. He also recounted a complicated trade involving him and his sergeant bringing a desk to the motor pool, receiving a drive shaft, taking the drive shaft to the quartermaster and receiving whiskey, and finally trading that whiskey for steaks which were cooked up and a party was thrown.

As his tour went on, the Nixon administration announced that soldiers with under a certain amount of time left in country would be allowed to simply return home and be on reserve status, without having to actually serve any time stateside. LaVille extended his commitment to meet these requirements, and at the approximately three month mark, that was made the timeframe. He would be going home and be out of the Army almost a year to the day he arrived in country.

When LaVille was getting out, so was Jerry. They were transported to an airport and told that when it was their time their name would be read off a list. Both nervous they would miss their call they agreed to listen for the other's name. It was days before their name was called, spent entirely in their army dress uniforms. 

LaVille recalled that after boarding the plane, it was dead silent, with himself thinking that he wouldn't feel comfortable until they were in the air, a constant doubt in his mind telling him that he wouldn't be leaving. When the plane finally took off everyone erupted into cheers, flight attendants blew up beach balls that were batted down the aisles. Landing in Oakland they were given a flight to anywhere in the U.S. to get home. All in all LaVille had experienced a Christmas, a New Years', his daughter's first birthday, his own 26th birthday, and a Thanksgiving in Viet Nam. 

Having heard about instances of veterans with PTSD lashing out and experiencing episodes, he decided to not return to teaching immediately instead opting to get his Master's degree. Having learned to compartmentalizing and process the horrors of war as they happened, LaVille did not experience PTSD, but instead had a deep-seated fear that the Army would again separate him from his family and send him back. This was a fear that was slightly alleviated by American withdrawal in 1972, but not fully abated until his discharge on June 1, 1975, a month after the capture of Saigon by North Vietnamese forces. 

While he did not experience direct acts of derision, LaVille did notice that people were less likely to engage with him if they knew he had served. However he has always been willing to share his experiences, telling me about a time he was part of a panel of vets talking to a high school class, noting that many of them were still bitter and not able to move past the cold reception they had gotten from the American public. When asked what the worst part was he noted that you expect war to be terrible and if you can you learn to deal with it, so he said that for him it was the rain. He likened it to someone standing over you pouring a bucket of ice cold water on you for hours at a time without pause. Another veteran on the panel heartily interjected that the rain and monsoon season were indeed terrible to deal with. This light interaction allowed the men to open up and talk about their experiences. 

A few years ago LaVille was diagnosed with late stage small cell lung cancer, which had been linked to his exposure to Agent Orange while in country. He was given a limited timeline with treatment and underwent radiation and chemotherapy. He is now approaching nearly 4 years in remission for a cancer he was initially told would not be going into remission. LaVille actively participates in local veterans events and is a contributor to the USO. 

Today LaVille resides in Marshalltown, Iowa with his wife and two dogs. He is father to four children, and 7 grandchildren, including myself, and 5 great-grandchildren.