The patrician Kerry worked hard at winning over his crew. Small-town boys, they were wary of the "long, tall Yankee," recalled Oklahoma boatswain's mate Drew Whitlow. Kerry patiently explained the details of each mission. After a firefight, he huddled with each man to "make sure we were all right," Wasser said.
Only gunner Steve Gardner held out. Convinced Kerry was a hesitant skipper and "in it for himself," Gardner said the two men had heated arguments.
Some fellow officers viewed Kerry as "aloof," often "bent over a typewriter in the corner while we had beers," Hayes said.
A prolific letter writer who also amassed a thick war diary, Kerry gravitated to officers who shared his fascination with politics and ideas. He bonded with close friend Lt. Elliot "Skip" Barker in long talks about philosophy and Vietnam's stirring landscape and tortured history.
Kerry told Barker of his interest in "some sort of public office." Other former officers said he astonished them by confiding a loftier goal -- the presidency. In officers club discussions, "he would mention Kennedy and how he was an officer in charge of a small craft in wartime and went home a hero," said former Lt. Bill Shumadine. "John said he was going to do the same thing."
On routine patrol at sea, days could be idyllic. Kerry instigated speed races with other Swift boats and duels with flare guns. Using a tape deck plugged into the boat's public address system, he blared out favorite Doors albums. He spent hours documenting his tour, narrating his impressions on a tape recorder and using a hand-held movie camera he owned to film landscapes and sampan boardings. It was a hobby that stood out among sailors who mostly toted around cheap still cameras.
Nights in the canals were ambush hell. Just before Christmas near the Cambodian border, Wasser opened fire after a mortar round exploded. His shots killed an old man tending a water buffalo. "The holiday season's still tough on me," he said.
In another harrowing incident, Gardner blasted a Vietcong suspect off a sampan as he saw "the guy rise up with an AK-47." When the crew boarded, they found a frightened woman and a child's bullet-riddled body.
"It became a walk on the dark side," Kerry said, quieting at his memories.
There were no repercussions. In a "free-fire" zone, Hoffmann expected crews to use their guns when necessary. "Everything isn't peaches and cream in warfare," Hoffmann said. "You either get the message across that you've got firepower and you're willing to use it, or you go home."
