{"product_id":"a-sense-of-duty-isbn-9780891418764","title":"A Sense of Duty","description":"A memoir by a former Vietnamese refugee who became a U.S. Marine, Quang Pham’s \u003cb\u003eA Sense of Duty\u003c\/b\u003e is an affecting story of fate, hope, and the aftermath of the most divisive war the United States has ever fought. This heartfelt salute to the spirit of America is also the account of the author’s reunion with his long-absent father, Hoa Pham, himself a devoted officer who saw combat firsthand as a South Vietnamese fighter pilot. Hoa’s revelations about his wartime experience leave Quang even more conflicted about his service in the Marines in the first Gulf War, and after years of struggling to reconnect with each other and the homeland they left behind, the two set out on a final, profound quest—to make sense of the war in Vietnam. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTracing Quang Pham’s uniquely spirited yet agonizing journey from his experiences as an uprooted refugee to his becoming a combat aviator, \u003cb\u003eA Sense of Duty\u003c\/b\u003e reveals the turmoil of a family torn apart and reunited by the fortunes of war. It is an American journey like no other.\u003cbr\u003e\"Quang X. Pham's memoir on parallel tracks-his life, and his family's, in Vietnam and then America-is a story of hardship, separation, and loss, but ultimately also of courage, loyalty, patriotism and achievement, an inspiring human story movingly told.\"\u003cbr\u003e--Lewis Sorley, Author of \"A Better War: The Unexamined Victories and Final Tragedy of America's Last Years in Vietnam\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A Sense of Duty is a poignant story of two distant wars, service by father to South Vietnam and Marine son to the United States in the Persian Gulf, but ultimately it is a son's tribute to his father and a way of saying \"thank you\" to all in his father's generation who served honorably to defend freedom and whose story has yet to be told.\" \u003cbr\u003e--Larry Berman, author of \u003ci\u003eNo Peace, No Honor: Nixon, Kissinger and Betrayal in Vietnam\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn his singular memoir, Quang X. Pham examines a forgotten, unexplored tract of that purgatory of the American Dream known as Vietnam. His surprising account of family and war, sacrifice and redemption is essential for anyone who would seek to understand the legacy of that lost conflict and the generation-spanning turmoil to come in Iraq.\u003cbr\u003eCongratulations on a fine book.\u003cbr\u003e--David J. Morris, author of \u003ci\u003eStorm on the Horizon:Khafji-The Battle that Changed the Course of the Gulf War\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003eQuang Pham's journey from refugee to Marine Corps Combat Aviator spanned two countries and two wars in search of honor and triumph. With A SENSE OF DUTY, Pham has achieved both: this tale of his and his father's wars is a testament to the heart, told with an aviator's stiff courage and clear vision. Insistently aware that war's passions extend their energies through generations--preserving the twisted genetic strands of both redemption and tragedy--this book marks the anniversary of our decade-spanning war in Vietnam while framing important questions about our second such war in Iraq.\u003cbr\u003e --Joel Turnipseed, Author of BAGHDAD EXPRESS\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Quang Pham has written a superb account of the remarkable journey  he and his family experienced. As someone who lived and fought with the South  Vietnamese forces and witnessed Quang's outstanding service in the US Marine  Corps, it was an exceptionally moving read. Everyone American should read  this wonderful story to better appreciate the freedoms we enjoy.\"\u003cbr\u003e--General  Anthony C. Zinni  USMC (Retired)QUANG X. PHAM served as a Marine helicopter pilot in the 1991 Gulf War and in Somalia. He has been an executive with QTC Medical Services and CEO of Lathian Systems, a company he founded. He is a popular public speaker and has appeared on numerous radio and television shows offering reflections on Vietnam. He lives in California with his wife, Shannon. Visit the author’s website at www.asenseofduty.com.FIRST FLIGHT\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen i was six i took my first airplane ride. My entire immediate family came along, as well as an older cousin. We were so excited we  kept talking about the excursion for days in advance, and I could  hardly sleep the night before. A white mosquito net covered my small  body and blurred my half-asleep vision. Waking and turning, I tried to  count the different cricket sounds through the night; their cadence  rang in unison like a kinetic, unseen symphony. In the distance, faint  explosions occasionally interrupted the cricket chirping but didn’t  silence them. Just like the people in my neighborhood, the insects were  used to war. On most nights I would sleep right through the  detonations. On this night I wished I knew what the crickets were  saying.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI wasn’t alone. My mother lay nearby, and my sisters slept in the same  room; that’s the way it was in our country. Families lived together and  slept together. Our grandparents had lived with us until they passed  away in 1969, within a year of each other. But little did we know that  one day the Vietnamese diaspora would sprinkle us all over the world;  we would all have our own houses.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSummer vacation had begun and we were heading for the low mountains of  Da Lat, some 200 miles north of Saigon, to cool off for the day. When I  was growing up, we hardly ever had any family vacations, so this would  be a rare treat.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBecause the countryside was dangerous, especially at night, for us air  travel was safer—and we knew the pilot. That day the rain came and  went, washing away the red clay on the pothole-filled dirt road leading  to the airport. At the airport we moved among airplanes worth millions  of dollars, yet we only had to step outside the gate to see a country  mired in poverty. Our driver had dropped us off near an old, yellow  half-cylindrical aluminum hangar from which we watched dozens of planes  taxi-ing for takeoff and landing. We weren’t at the civilian passenger  terminal. We stood on the military side of Tan Son Nhut Airport, one of  the busiest in the world in 1970.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe boarded a World War II–era C-47, the military version of the DC-3, a  reliable, twin-engine transport. On its fuselage was the South  Vietnamese national insignia, a white star on a blue disk surrounded by  an outer red ring, with red and yellow side bars. A national vertical  yellow flag with three red horizontal stripes was painted on its  rudder. The other passengers included families of military men, some in  uniform. After a quick safety briefing by a crew member, we sat quietly  on the red canvas seats usually reserved for airborne troops.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs the plane lumbered down the runway and took to the air, I looked out  the window while gripping my mother’s hand. She was also holding my  older sister Thi, who sat on her other side. I could barely make out  smoggy Saigon receding beneath the wings. Soon green rice fields and  grass-roofed villages appeared. We were flying low enough to see tiny  farmers and their water buffaloes dragging wooden plows. Growing up in  the city, I had only seen buffaloes and fields in newspaper  photographs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfter about fifteen minutes, the pilot in the left seat motioned to me  to come into the cockpit. I unbuckled my belt and stumbled up the  aisle, nearly tripping over the rollers on the floor. He picked me up  and placed me on his lap. I could smell his signature Aqua Velva  after-shave lotion and sweat. I hesitated to touch the controls even as  he assured me that it was all right to steer the plane. He smiled to  the copilot as I cautiously reached out and slightly pushed on the  steering column.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere in front of me was our beautiful country. Tall, sharp mountains  guarded deep green valleys, and the brown Mekong River wound sinuously  through its delta to the sea. Large thunderclouds were scattered  throughout the skies, ready to strike lightning and dump rain on those  below. The plane was buffeted by the stormy air. The hazy countryside  appeared so peaceful. But unbeknown to me at that age was that our  people, of the north and south, had been at war for almost two decades,  the two sides supported by opposing superpowers. They had to choose  sides or, unfortunately for many, face the wrath of all.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe pilot was my father. He had become one of the most experienced  pilots in the VNAF. He pulled out a cigarette and turned his head to  the left to blow the smoke out the small, sliding cockpit window. He  hoisted me up by the waist so I could see over the nose of the  aircraft. It was dizzying to be staring straight down at the ground as  it moved underneath us.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe landed and spent the day in Da Lat. The return trip took nearly two  hours, but I could hardly wait for us to land so I could go brag to my  friends. I was hooked on flying that day. It would take another twenty  years before I would become like my father, soaring over the plains of  Texas, serving my country as a military aviator.Winner of the Asian Heritage Award for Literature; With a new Epilogue by the author","brand":"Presidio Press","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302819975397,"sku":"NP9780891418764","price":15.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780891418764.jpg?v=1767720776","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/a-sense-of-duty-isbn-9780891418764","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}