An American Story

by Maka Fairman



This country has been my only home since birth. The country is America. There have been times that I have felt close to becoming a patriot, but the blood of my native ancestors forbade such disloyal heart and I have stayed from government tentacles the best I could all these years.

It’s hard to live outside the eye of Big Brother these days, especially since Homeland Security has been slowly taking over the communications systems. That would be Mr. Rumsfeld’s department, probably, since his interests lay with Bechtel. All avenues of controlling the American populace have been signed, sealed and padded $$$ on delivery, by the taxpayers’ own hand. Americans will pay for their own funeral, after embracing their murderers. It’s only a matter of time before the American people realize they are in prison. By then it will be too late.


Since the Vietnam killings I could never again, in good faith, call myself American. Today, my shame overshadows any sort of patriotism. It behooves me to learn about this government, one we have been forced to support through our taxes, permits, fees and penalties, a government that has the audacity to kill innocent human beings in our name, with our hard earned money. This dishonorable act in my name and my fellow American’s name cannot go without judgment for these high treason war crimes committed in Iraq, as these so-called government leaders seem to believe. They will be stopped, if not by man, by the karmic order of God.

The atrocities of Vietnam were swept under the table by the military and US government working hand in hand and behind the back of the public, just like Iraq. There was no truth for the American public other than TV or radio. The daily TV news programs, compiled by the prostitutes in mainstream media always showed the brave American soldiers creating peace in a Communist territory, on the other side of the world. There was no Internet in those days to grind out the real truth, and even if there was, Americans were completely isolated from reality and truth. They could not have read between lines that did not exist for them.

Being married to a Marine who had just served two (three year) tours in Vietnam prior to 1963, I learned of innumerable and unmentionable atrocities that happened in Vietnam. Man’s inhumanity to man. These stories have not surfaced to this day, even as this government schemes to raze Iraq to the ground, killing anything that moves: women, children, old men, young boys, dogs, cats, ANYTHING that moves ... just like Vietnam. The only difference between Vietnam and Iraq are the high tech military toys that destroy the lives of not only the Iraqi people but the American military as well, in an instant, instead of a day.

What other plan had the designers of this war in mind, other than to subjugate all life in the Middle East so they could control the oil supply... and the world? New US military weapons are fashioned with nuclear material depleted uranium with a half-live of over a billion years - none there will survive. Out of 450,000 Vietnam military participants who came back from Vietnam, not counting the 57,000 recorded deaths on the WALL, 16,000 have died since coming home, and 325,000 are on some sort of medicine for their unknown disorders. That leaves less than 10,000 men and women healthy survivors of Vietnam.

Since the UN adopted economic sanctions in 1945 in its charter as a means of maintaining global order, the USA has used these sanctions fourteen times, and twelve of those sanctions have been implemented since 1990. Only those sanctions imposed on Iraq have been the most damaging. Who was the president at that time? George Herbert Walker Bush. Since then, 500,000 Iraqi children under the age of five have died as a result of those sanctions... almost three times as many as the number killed in the atomic bomb attacks on Japan.

We are human beings on this planet, none of us with the right to take another human being’s life, much less for no apparent reason... other than greed. Vietnam absorbed thousands of human lives before Americans ever knew they were at war with anyone. In fact, war was never really mentioned by the average citizen because America was declared to be in peacetime during those horrific years. Only the military and the government knew what was taking place. Lies on top of lies, just like today.

From my own experience with my Marine husband, who was by his excellent record, regarded to be one of the President’s “One Hundred.” After his duty to the Corps ended in 1963, he did not stay in one place long enough for Uncle Sam to find him again for service, Presidents’ One Hundred or not. During our marriage, the government caught up to him three times in our six years together, but they never managed to hold him. He was murdered in 1992 from a still-unexplained incident.

There were stories told to me by my Marine husband that I could barely believe in those sixties days. Having come from a fundamentally religious family, my husband looked more like the Devil than a human being. He told me how Americans killed our own men in Vietnam, sometime just out of hate over a trivial argument. Its too bad he’s dead, because now there’s no proof of the black bags that floated in the canals with aborted GI fetuses. Uncle Sam didn’t mind if our boys had a little fun raping the pretty little Vietnamese girls, after all they were so far from home, so far from their loved ones who wouldn’t know the difference one way or another. Besides, they were Gooks. I learned also that it could hardly be called rape, when the girl was so hungry she was willing to give it up for merely one American chocolate bar.

George Galloway is definitely a hero in my books. Even though he was put on the American hit list he still has the balls to stand up for the truth. He has shown the American Senate how they should handle their government. It is probably wasted effort on Mr. Galloway’s part, not that he had any other choice than to defend his honor, but the US government body is far too corrupt to change policy in mid-stream, unless it is changed for them. Mr. Galloway’s gallant stand may be the rock that starts the ripple of change. Who knows? He certainly does not mince his words, and would there be only a few more like him, our world may get a second chance to survive. Thank God Mr. Galloway made it back to Britain without incident or mishap.

In the meantime in the Middle East, the beat goes on.

Maka Fairman is an internationally published reporter based in Alaska. She can be reached at