A mission upriver in John F. Kerry's war started with a call to arms. "Saddle up, tigers," he would bark to his gunboat crewmen before they headed off on patrol deep into Vietnam's mangrove-choked canals. It was a command and a warning.
Kerry led his men into combat with a gambler's daring that masked a doubter's disillusionment. The remote southern coast of the Mekong Delta became a proving ground for a Navy lieutenant junior grade eager to test his mettle as a leader -- and a crash course in failed policy for a Yale graduate skeptical of the war's outcome.
For four months, from the fall of 1968 into the spring of 1969, Kerry, then 26, experienced Vietnam's chaos from both vantages, piloting a succession of machine-gun-armed Swift boats on raids against Vietcong river outposts. His aggressive, unorthodox tactics made admirers of his crewmen, raised eyebrows among fellow officers and commanders, and earned him a Silver Star and a Bronze Star for valor.
He approached Vietnam with ambivalence, but intent on making his mark in wartime -- much as had his political role model, President John F. Kennedy. Kerry's passage steeped him with self-confidence and a lasting "sense of what it means to be under fire," he said recently during an interview in Portland, Ore.
"I think I was a good warrior," Kerry said. "I think I knew how to fight. I also think I was smart enough and sensitive enough to see through it, and know what the downsides and the strategy faults were."
Kerry took calculated risks in battle even as his unease grew over the Vietnam War's stalemated strategy and rising death toll. After a final blur of firefights and close calls, a third combat wound allowed him to shorten his one-year tour. Kerry returned to the U.S. to publicly oppose the war and subsequently run for office.
His complicated stance and abrupt exit were emblematic of his layered, opaque character. If Vietnam helped define him as a soldier and a leader, Kerry also went to war displaying traits that have marked his public life. His fierce drive to excel and his knack for cementing lifelong friendships alternated with a cerebral aloofness and a barely sheathed instinct for advancement.
The loyal band of Navy crewmen and gunboat officers who bonded with Kerry 35 years ago now campaign for him, depicting him as a trusted fighter. "He got us psyched up to go out on patrol every day, even though he needed it as much as we did," said Del Sandusky, one of Kerry's gunboat helmsmen.
