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Au Phuc Dup and Nowhere to Go: The Only Really True Book about Viet Nam [Kindle Edition]

Fred Reed
3.2 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (16 customer reviews)

Print List Price: $10.95
Kindle Price: $2.99
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Book Description

A wacky novelette by a Marine veteran of Viet Nam who says he finds it easier to laugh about the war than to assault the Pentagon with a back hoe, which would be his preference except that he doesn't have a back hoe. Follow the adventures of Major Egglesby, the worst fighter pilot in the Air Force, and Sergeant Anesthesia Remingham, a black Marine from Alabama who invents the Torpedo Rat and nearly brings the war to a halt, and the concert with the rock band Klok Mortuary and the Gadarene Swine and...and....


Editorial Reviews

About the Author

Fred Reed was born in 1945 in Crumpler, West Virginia, an unincorporated coal camp where his grandfather was the coal-company doctor. As soon as he was able he essayed a life of minor brigandage, the construction of rockets, and BB-gun marksmanship in various small towns of the South, where his father worked as a federal mathematician designing weapons. He fished, shot, did few things his friends' mothers appro0ved of, eventually graduated from college, barely, became a Marine in America's misbegfotten attempt to impose democracy in Vietnam, where nobody wanted it, and got shot. He became a writer because the job has no qualifications and he didn't have any either. He now lives in Jalisco, Mexico, with a splendid Mexican wife and stepdaughter. His biological daughters, he says, are wonderful, intractable, and an artist and a jazz singer in San Francisco.

Product Details

  • File Size: 192 KB
  • Print Length: 124 pages
  • Sold by: Amazon Digital Services, Inc.
  • Language: English
  • ASIN: B0078H7D9E
  • Text-to-Speech: Enabled
  • X-Ray:
  • Word Wise: Not Enabled
  • Lending: Enabled
  • Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #443,768 Paid in Kindle Store (See Top 100 Paid in Kindle Store)
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Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews
20 of 20 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars Great book, lousy publisher October 24, 2009
Format:Paperback|Verified Purchase
This is a terrific book, the Catch-22 of the Vietnam War. It's fiction but it rings very true. (I was a sergeant in the US Army during the time of the Vietnam War).

That said, iUniverse, the publisher, did a truly poor job of putting the book together. There are chapters that are repeated word-for-word under different chapter headings (bad pointers to text blocks in the database?) , and chapters that are repeated almost word-for-word (multiple versions?). I think that iUniverse is one of those print-on-demand publishers. Being an old software and database developer myself, I think that iUniverse needs to work on its data control.
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18 of 19 people found the following review helpful
1.0 out of 5 stars A real comedown compared to his other books November 26, 2010
Format:Paperback|Verified Purchase
I read Fred's other 4 books, and many of the articles on the "Fred on Everything" website -- was enthralled with its curmudgeonly skill at mixing reality with fantasy. Then I tried reading this book .... what a shocking letdown. Why? 'Cause he went to STRAIGHT fantasy. Turns out that's not his forte. He should go back to describing the details of what's happening (and happened) to his life, while pointing out the insanity of what America's society is turning into, the latter peppered with just enough exaggeration that we get the point and are amused at the same time.

Fred is still one of the most insightful observers of our Yankee culture to date. Go for it, Fred!

Bill
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9 of 9 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars Loved every minute of it! October 18, 2011
Format:Paperback
A minor point of editing, but there are still two chapters in the Kindle edition that are repeated nearly word for word under a different chapter name later in the book. I just read them over again 'cause maybe Fred put them in there twice on purpose. It's like when jazz aficionados are listening to a Miles Davis recording where he cacks a note and they all agree he probably meant to play it that way.

Anyhow, I would have given it six or seven stars but for the editing/formatting carelessness. Still, I wish there was some way to have it made into a movie so non-readers could get a clue.

Here's what I think of the book: Fred is in top form as he paints this impressionistic masterpiece detailing how it feels to be stuck in the middle of our gub-m'nts absurd war. I laughed my ass off while I was crying inside, my heart breaking for the tragedy of it all.
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4 of 4 people found the following review helpful
3.0 out of 5 stars A Fantasy about a Nightmare April 6, 2012
By Rick B.
Format:Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase
I've been a fan of Fred's for years, but Au Phuc Dup reminds me of an attempted spoof I read, years ago, of the original Star Wars movie. That spoof didn't work because the author was trying to satirize a movie that was, itself, a spoof of science fiction movies. Did those sentences make sense?
Trying to write satire about an insane asylum can be done--but it is really difficult.
That said, the book was pretty good up until the ending. The ending was high literary art. It left me stunned (really!).
Plot spoiler: the book ended just like the war.
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4 of 5 people found the following review helpful
2.0 out of 5 stars Not Fred's best; aggravated by poor editing December 14, 2010
By Rich H.
Format:Paperback|Verified Purchase
A thinly-fictionalized collection of Vietnam war stories, which I suspect would have had much more impact as straight-up accounts. The fact that this book is riddled with typos and generally horrific editing (a duplicate chapter!?) doesn't help. Skip this and check out one of Fred's non-fiction essay collections.
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1 of 1 people found the following review helpful
Format:Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase
Regardless of the editing, I think Fred has truly captured the military intelligence??? "mindset" that kept this illegal, immoral, and insane war in Vietnam going for 10 years+. I have come to believe this is true for all our wars. Especially the current ones in the middle-east. Anyone who served in Vietnam, or was ever in the military, and everyone who has their eyes open, can relate to this hilarious satire.
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6 of 9 people found the following review helpful
1.0 out of 5 stars Did he submit the wrong manuscript? February 15, 2010
Format:Paperback|Verified Purchase
Or did he just get tired of writing the book and quit. Many plot lines left unfinished. The book is full of glaring typos, and at least 1 chapter is duplicated except with different name. Very disapointing.
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5.0 out of 5 stars Fred Never Disappoints June 18, 2014
Format:Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase
This was a great read and I found myself laughing out loud many times. I would have expected nothing less from the great literary master.
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Most Recent Customer Reviews
2.0 out of 5 stars fun book
absurdities of the war (nam) very very short, bout like a toss off from him. enjoyed it, for the money, not a bad read.
Published 9 months ago by cddawgs
4.0 out of 5 stars I've read a lot of the Vietnam era humor
I've read a lot of the Vietnam era humor, such as Gallery's "Stand by to Start Engines". This is just as funny, though it stops abruptly as if the author ran out of steam... Read more
Published 10 months ago by John E. Entwistle
5.0 out of 5 stars A good read and funny as ____
I got quite a few laughs out of this book, and there were some good insights into how screwed up our military really is. Read it!
Published 10 months ago by Iam Nottadog
4.0 out of 5 stars still angry about the war
I liked it a lot. It is intensely satirical sharing some of the mood of Catch 22 (which is indeed a helluva book). Read more
Published 13 months ago by Dr Wayne A Davies
1.0 out of 5 stars lousey
I have read all his books, and enjoyed them. this one is boring. it stinks. (sorry Fred) I tossed it.
Published 16 months ago by Gerald Haley
4.0 out of 5 stars a vet's memory of VN
Only a vet could write this, and only a vet will likely enjoy this. Having served (peacetime only) I remember the frustrations with the military bureaucracy and I remember the... Read more
Published 17 months ago by Chris
3.0 out of 5 stars Great writing meets horrible editing
Fred Reed is a terrific writer and a lot of this book is both insightful and hilarious, particularly for anyone who saw the Vietnam war from in-country, not just from the comfy... Read more
Published 17 months ago by Emmet
2.0 out of 5 stars the tragedy that was CIA and US foreign policy is amply portrayed in...
While the names were changed to protect the guilty, the lampooning of the tragedy of US and CIA foreign policy here was hard to stomach. Read more
Published 24 months ago by Ken Warner
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More About the Author

According to Fred, who is an occasionally reliable source (though he says his heart isn't in it): I was born in 1945 in Crumpler, West Virginia, an unincorporated coal camp near Bluefield where my maternal grandfather was the camp doctor, and steam locomotives chuffed spectacularly in to load coal at the tipple. (When someone got sick on the other side of the mountain, the miners would put Big Pat, as granddad was called, in a coal car and take him under the mountain. He had a robust conception of a house call.) My father was a mathematician, but then serving in the Pacific aboard the destroyer USS Franks. My paternal grandfather was dean and professor of mathematics at Hampden-Sydney College, a small and (then, and perhaps now) quite good liberal arts school in southwest Virginia. In general my family for many generations were among the most literate, the most productive, and the dullest people in the South. Presbyterians.
After the war I lived as a navy brat here and there--San Diego, Mississippi, the Virginia suburbs of Washington, Alabama, what have you, and briefly in Farmville, Virginia, while my father went on active duty for the Korean War as an artillery spotter. I was an absorptive and voracious reader, a terrible student, and had by age eleven an eye for elevation and windage with a BB gun that would have awed a missile engineer. I was also was a bit of a mad scientist. For example, I think I was ten when I discovered the formula for thermite in the Britannica at Athens College in Athens, Alabama, stole the ingredients from the college chemistry laboratory, and ignited a mound of perfectly adequate thermite in the prize frying pan of the mother of my friend Perry, whose father
was the college president. The resulting six-inch hole in the frying pan was hard to explain.
I went to high school in King George County, Virginia, while living aboard Dahlgren Naval Weapons Laboratory (my father was always a weapons-development sort of mathematician, although civilian by this time), where I was the kid other kids weren't supposed to play with. I spent my time canoeing, shooting, drinking unwise but memorable amounts of beer with the local country boys, attempting to be a French rake with only indifferent success, and driving in a manner that, if you are a country boy, I don't have to describe, and if you aren't, you wouldn't believe anyway. I remember trying to explain to my father why his station wagon was upside down at three in the morning after I had flipped it at seventy on a hairpin turn that would have intimidated an Alpine goat.
As usual I was a woeful student--if my friend Butch and I hadn't found the mimeograph stencil for the senior Government exam in the school's Dempster Dumpster, I wouldn't have graduated--but was a National Merit Finalist.
After two years at Hampden-Sydney, where I worked on a split major in chemistry and biology with an eye to oceanography, I was bored. After spending the summer thumbing across the continent and down into Mexico, hopping freight trains up and down the eastern seaboard, and generally confusing myself with Jack Kerouac, I enlisted in the Marines, in the belief that it would be more interesting than stirring unpleasant glops in laboratories and pulling apart innocent frogs. It was. On returning from Vietnam with a lot of stories, as well as a Purple Heart and more shrapnel in my eyes than I really wanted, I graduated from Hampden-Sydney with lousy grades and a bachelor-of-science degree with a major in history and a minor in computers. Really. My GREs were in the 99th percentile.
The years from 1970 to 1973 I spent in largely disreputable pursuits, a variety that has always come naturally to me. I wandered around Europe, Asia, and Mexico, and acquired the usual stock of implausible but true stories about odd back alleys and odder people.
When the 1973 war broke out in the Mid-East, I decided I ought to do something respectable, thought that journalism was, and told the editor of my 327
home-town paper, "Hi! I want to be a war correspondent." This was a sufficiently damn-fool thing to do that he let me go, probably to see what would happen. Writing, it turned out, was the only thing I was good for. Using my clips from Israel, I argued to the editors of Army Times that they needed my services to cover the war in Vietnam. They too let me do it. Editorial bad judgement is a valuable resource.
I spent the last year of the war between Phnom Penh and Saigon, leaving each with the evacuation. Those were heady days in which I lived in slums that would have horrified a New York alley cat, but they appealed to the Steinbeck in me, of which there is a lot. After the fall of Saigon I returned to Asia, resumed residence for six months in my old haunts in Taipei, and studied Chinese while waiting for the next war, which didn't come. Returning overland, I took up a career of magazine free-lancing, a colorful route to starvation, with stints on various staffs interspersed. For a year I worked in Boulder, Colorado, on the staff of Soldier of Fortune magazine, half zoo and half asylum, with the intention of writing a book about it. Publishing houses said, yes, Fred, this is great stuff, but you are obviously making it up. I wasn't. Playboy eventually published it, making me extremely persona non grata at Soldier of Fortune.
Having gotten married somewhere along the way, I am now the happily divorced father of the World's Finest Daughters. Until recently I worked as, among other things, a law-enforcement columnist for theWashington Times. It allowed me to take trips to big cities and to ride around in police cars with the siren going woowoowoo and kick in doors of drug dealers. Recently I changed the column from law enforcement to technology, and now live in Mexico in Jocotopec, near Guadalajara, having found burros preferable to bureaus. I now share my existence with Violeta Gonzales, who was what God had in mind when he created women but just hadn't quite perfected the idea until recently.
My hobbies are crawling South America, scuba, listening to blues, swing-dancing in dirt bars, associating with colorful maniacs, and writing seditious columns.
My principal accomplishment in life, aside from my children, is the discovery that it is possible to jitterbug to the Brandenburgs.

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