How I learned the key to accomplishing anything in Viet Nam.
I was 18 years old when I first arrived in Viet Nam. I served with a rifle company for a little more than a month. During that short period of time, I would learn valuable lessons that have served me well ever since.

I was one of the replacements for four Marines who were killed in action.
I was assigned as a replacement, to a Marine Corps rifle squad that was ambushed a few days earlier during a day patrol. During that ambush, four of the Marines were shot and killed at point blank range.

As the story was relayed to me, the Viet Cong soldiers were hiding in spider holes (small holes the V.C. dug for the purpose of hiding) waiting to ambush the unsuspecting Marines.

My squad-to-be was ambushed during a day patrol.
As the Viet Nam war (in the rice paddys where my unit operated), was mostly fought at night, day patrols were considered an uneventful, but unwanted chore. Unless we were on a dreaded day patrol, we used the day to catch up on our sleep. Because we had to be awake during all but an hour or two during the night, we were usually dead tired during the day. Day patrols, while they were disliked by those who had to carry them out, were also considered to be fairly safe. So it is understandable how my squad-to-be was not on the alert for an ambush (as they would have been at night) and walked right into the Viet Cong trap.

The ambush took place when the Marines were literally on top of the spider holes, The Viet Cong sprang up and instantly killed four Marines, each of them being shot at point blank range. Of the remaining six Marines, one was wounded, leaving the rest of the survivors to deal with the ambushers. As I understand it, the Marines in turn, killed at least two of the Viet Cong. The rest escaped.

There were three of us that arrived as replacements a few days later, for those killed and wounded during that brutal ambush. I remember that it was a bright and beautiful day when we arrived at the tent on a hill called "190", that served as the base of operations for the 2nd squad, 1st platoon, Delta Company, 1st Battalion, 26th Marines. After the three of us were assigned a wooden, canvas covered cot, we were issued our combat boots.

At the time I took a size 10 boot. All that was available was a size 12. I wanted to wear combat boots so badly that I took the size 12s. Later that night, I would profoundly regret this decision.

It was unnerving to learn that we were replacements for fatalities.
After being assigned our cots and receiving our supplies, the three of us met the remaining guys in the squad. As you might guess they were quick to tell us what happened a few days earlier. They were also as warm, friendly, welcoming and helpful as any group I've ever met. In spite of the warm welcome, learning about the ambush and the fact that we were there to replace fatalities, was unnerving. It would have been much easier to learn that we were there to replace Marines who safely completed their tour of duty and rotated home. But not only was that not the case, we also learned that a few of the surviving Marines had only been in Viet Nam for 6 weeks or so — and that nobody in the squad was close to rotating home.

I could not imagine how I would possibly survive.
After speaking with the Marines in my squad, I left the tent and sat near our 50 caliber machine gun emplacement bunker that overlooked the entire valley. I could see the rice paddies, a river, and mountains that were both close and distant. As I sat there, I continually thought about what the chances were that I might survive this 13 month ordeal that I had in front of me. I wanted to see home again. I kept thinking about those Marines that died a few days earlier, and also about the short tenure of the surviving Marines I just met. I thought about how much I knew about being a combat Marine in Viet Nam - my level of knowledge was zero. I also thought about the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese soldiers I would be fighting. I imagined that they knew the area well, were used to this war and that would translate into quite an advantage for them. I also thought about home, my mom, my dad, my brother and sister and how much, how so very much, I just wanted to see them again.

I found calm in a grim but honest realization.
The more I thought about all this, the more upset I became. It became hard to see anything, and I had trouble breathing. I think I had the only panic attack I've ever experienced. Then I had a realization. The realization I had immediately ended the panic attack, and delivered a sense of calm to me that I've rarely experienced. What was this realization that made such a difference to me? It occurred to me that Viet Nam was where I was meant to die. Sitting there, that day, I could see no way that I would survive. The only question in my mind was when and how I would die.

My realization enabled me to function as a combat Marine.
The moment I accepted the fact that I would die in Viet Nam, I was able to deal with the war. I was also able to do what was asked of me as a combat Marine. During my short tenure in the bush (a little more than a month, maybe 6 weeks - as best as I can recall), I carried the radio, and I walked most every position in the squad including point (1st) on night ambush.

My first night in the bush.
During that first night I plodded with my squad into the bush, wearing those size 12 combat boots and they literally tore up my feet. Being in the bush was tough enough, but to have ill-fitting boots made it even more miserable.

That very same night I saw my first combat action. A Marine was severely wounded, again by a Viet Cong who sprung up from a spider hole. That night I was keen enough to foresee the helicopter, sent to medevac the wounded Marine, about to land on a stunned fellow Marine. So I ran and tackled him and both of us fell into a rice paddy out of the way of the helicopter. I probably saved his life. As fate would have it, that very same Marine would later be responsible for saving my life. That, however, is another story.

How I got boots that fit me.
The Marine that was wounded, and medevaced out that night wore size 10 boots. They were made available to me the next day. While the reason they became available was pretty grim, anything was better than spending another night in those size 12s, so I was happy to have them. I wore those boots until the time came when it was my turn to be wounded.

I decided to make it my goal to stay alive for the next day's mail call.
Later that day, the company held mail call. I received two letters. Getting and reading those letters made me so happy. I kept them, and along with the others I subsequently received, read them again and again most every day. I enjoyed getting mail so much that I made it my one and only goal, each and every night, to do whatever I could do to be alive for the next day's mail call. As a result, I took the war in Viet Nam one day at a time. I never ever looked past the next day's mail call. And when mail call would arrive sometimes I would receive mail, sometimes I wouldn't. Either way, after each mail call, I'd go to work on focusing on staying alive for the next day's mail call.

My second night in the bush.
During my second night in the bush, when my squad was moving through the rice paddys during night ambush, we lost our point man.

The point man's grim choice.
There were two ways to move through the rice paddys. There was the difficult and disgusting, but safe way. And there was the easy, but dangerous way. The safe way was to walk through the rice paddy water. This meant trudging through muddy ooze six inches to a foot thick, so the going was slow. The water was also incredibly foul and disgusting. It was thick with mosquitoes and there were also leeches (which I never did get used to). The easy way was to simply walk on the dikes that separated the rice paddys. There was no comparison between walking on the rice paddy dikes versus walking through the rice paddy water. The problem was, and it was no small problem, that the Viet Cong also knew full well that it was much easier to walk on the dikes. So that's where they put the booby traps.

The decision as to whether to walk on the dikes or through the rice paddy water was usually left to the point man. After all, it was the point man's ass that would go up in flames if he triggered a booby trap. That night, my second night in the bush, our point man chose to walk on the rice paddy dikes, and as a result, paid the price. He was fortunate, though. The explosive he tripped was small, so he came out with what seemed like just leg wounds, and was medevaced away that night.

A month or so later, I was wounded.
As so it went during the rest of my tour in the bush, until the day came when I was wounded by tripping a small booby trap explosive — I suspect much like the one our point man tripped that second night. Like him, I was medevaced out of the bush and, although I returned to Viet Nam five more times, it would never again be in a combat capacity.

I could not believe that I made it home again.
When the time came that I rotated back home, I remember the incredible feeling I had on the plane from San Diego to Baltimore. I was nothing short of amazed that I had survived the war and would see home again. I felt like I won the biggest lottery imaginable — I was still alive and intact. I would see my family again. I remembered that day when I accepted in my heart that I would die in Viet Nam, and yet somehow I did not. I know now that It was the realization I had that day, when I accepted the worst possible outcome, that enabled me to let go of anxiety and worry, and effectively deal with the harsh realities of that brutal war. And it was the simplicity of taking the war just one day at a time, while looking forward to being alive for nothing more than mail call, that kept me going.

The lessons I learned in Viet Nam.
I learned many important lessons in Viet Nam. First and foremost, I learned that I have the ability to make it through anything - no matter how difficult. I learned that if I'm in a difficult situation, I need to do two things. The first and most important thing is to determine and accept the worst thing that can possibly happen. It's important to do this, because once you accept the worst thing that can happen, you can then stop worrying about it happening. There is nothing more debilitating than useless worry. The second important thing is to take things one day at a time. Humans, for whatever reason, are able to deal with any difficulty for short periods of time. Doing this makes any task or undertaking seem achievable. It's when we picture something as insurmountable, or look at the entire task, that we run into trouble. Tremendous achievements are done in small steps.

There's no reason these lessons will not work for you.
I've used these lessons I learned in Viet Nam throughout my life. They helped me hang on and build Parsons Technology. They've also played no small part in getting Go Daddy where it is today (the world's number one registrar in all categories). There's no reason, if you're faced with a large undertaking or difficult situation, that they can't help you as well.