My name is Ron Fazio, and I’m a Vietnam War veteran, former high school teacher, and lifelong student of the human experience. In January 1970, like so many young men of my generation, I was drafted into the U.S. Army during a time of deep national division and uncertainty. I served with the 199th Light Infantry Brigade, starting out as a front-line combat soldier—what we called a “Grunt”—in the dense jungles and rugged mountains of Vietnam. Later, I transitioned to a role as a Headquarters Company clerk, where I witnessed the war not just through the lens of combat, but also through the day-to-day mechanics of military operations during America’s complex withdrawal.

Throughout my year-long tour, I kept a journal—written every day, without fail—documenting what I saw, felt, and endured. Those pages were never intended for public eyes. They were raw, unfiltered accounts of life in the field: the fear, the confusion, the camaraderie, the surreal moments of absurdity, and the quiet pockets of reflection that came when the gunfire stopped. Years later, I’ve returned to those journals, not just to remember, but to better understand what that experience meant—not just for me, but for the countless others who served alongside me.

When I came home, like many veterans, I had to find a new sense of purpose. I went on to earn a master’s degree in human development and spent much of my career teaching high school history, trying to give students a fuller picture of the world than the textbooks could offer. My time in the classroom taught me that education and empathy go hand in hand, and that stories—especially those grounded in truth—have the power to connect people across generations.

Now in my late seventies, I’ve written Years Later About Vietnam to honor the everyday soldier—the ones who fought, served, supported, and survived. This memoir is both a historical document and a personal catharsis. It’s not just about missions and military life, but about what it means to come of age in a war zone, to carry those memories home, and to make sense of them decades later. My hope is that readers will come away with a deeper understanding of a war that defined a generation and a renewed appreciation for the individuals who lived it, one day at a time.