Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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8 of 8 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
What was it like in Vietnam--How in the hell do you describe it?, November 6, 2008
This is clearly a question about which the author of The Second Tour, Terry P. Rizzuti, has thought long and hard. The results of his deliberation are found within the pages of his stunning debut novel, a work in which readers discover an intriguing and compellingly fresh answer.
The Second Tour tells the story of Vietnam in fragmented, non-sequential visions from the perspective of Rootie, a low-level marine. He describes how he and his friends survived, how they lived, and how they died--although not necessarily in that order. By also giving readers brief glimpses of his life after Vietnam, he allows them to see the tremendous impact that serving in Vietnam for just thirteen months has had on his life.
Despite his descriptions of the hardships of war, Rizzuti does not make any moral judgements about the men who fought in Vietnam. Rizzuti tells his story in a frank and subtle manner that prevents him from using the clichés to which so many authors of his genre resort. His matter-of-fact, conversational style often makes readers feel as if they have wandered into a bar where a Vietnam veteran is telling his story by recalling bits and pieces of what he remembers--maybe showing them the odd letter that he wrote home while Bob Dylan songs play on the jukebox.
Rizzuti's style of writing completely captivates and intrigues his audience. As his story jumps decades, often within the span of several paragraphs, readers are frequently uncertain from which location or year the narrator is speaking as they read the initial line of any section. Although this may sound confusing or complicated to some potential readers, at no time do readers become overwhelmed, or does the novel become overly convoluted. Because Rootie's flawlessly flowing narrative links all the events together, it is of no consequence that the events are narrated out of sequence; in fact, such a style of narration only adds to the enjoyment of this refreshing take on a subject that has been often explored.
In short, The Second Tour's honesty, sincerity, and authenticity makes it clear from the beginning that this novel could only have been written by someone who was actually in Vietnam. Although a work of fiction, The Second Tour is based on events few have experienced, providing a fascinating insight into war and the boys who eventually become men when they are sent to fight it.
The Second Tour is not only an electrifying read for fans of the genre, but also a fitting epitaph for those who lost their lives far away from home.
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6 of 6 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
The Second Tour review, December 12, 2008
The following review is from my husband who has many positive comments about this book.
If you want to 'feel' the effects of war the way grunts do, read this book. Learn how the veterans become trusted friends, how they live, die and still survive today with their memories. This book is a treatise on the development of dissociation, the hallmark of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), as evidenced by "The Thousand Yard Stare" on the book's cover, as well as the following quotes:
"Right now I'm only free in my day dreams." p. 39
"The experience is still as real as the adrenaline it triggers." p. 125
This book is an essential primer for anyone working therapeutically with veterans and PTSD. This remarkable book raises serious questions, while providing critical catharsis and even more importantly, cogent answers that have given me a new understanding of the plight my patients face. ---Darryl Zitzow, PhD. Clinical Psychologist
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6 of 6 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
When you walk through a storm..., November 19, 2008
I have known Terry Rizzuti personally since the early 1970's; at least I thought I knew him. I just finished reading The Second Tour. I started reading it the day it arrived and couldn't put it down until I had finished it that night. Rizzuti's book left me in a state of awe. So many things come to my mind that I hardly know where to begin.
I had read a few books about the Vietnam War, primarily about the Air War such as Thud Ridge and Going Downtown, both by Col. Jack Broughton, retired, F-105 pilot. Another, more recent read is Chickenhawk, a personal account of the helicopter war in Vietnam by Robert Mason. Chickenhawk brought me much closer to the real horrors of the war in Vietnam, but Rizzuti's story jerked me inside, slammed the door, and locked me inside his true account of "hell on earth." Some of the incidents I remember almost verbatim from his re-accounting of them to me some 35 years ago. The chaos, insanity, terror, heartache, loneliness, desperation and overwhelming despair conveyed in this book are palpable, riveting, and real.
While Rizzuti was serving as a human sacrifice to the USA as a member of the Marine Corp, I was a freshman at Northeastern State in Tahlequah, Oklahoma; partying, drinking and screwing-off with not a care. The month after he returned to the states, I went into Air Force Basic training followed by six months of ACDUTRA (electronics training) in Biloxi, Mississippi before returning home to serve with my friendly local FANG (Air National Guard) unit, hardly what you would consider a military experience in comparison.
Once back at home, Terry was employed in the same factory as I. That was where we met and worked together on long graveyard shifts. We were both in college at the time. Looking back, the strangest part may be that there was ever a snowball's chance that Rizzuti and I would become friends, considering the vast gulf of life experience that separated us. Our friendship is a testament to something in Rizzuti's character that made it possible. Now, after reading the account of his experiences and survival, I have come to understand that his tolerance of my naive ignorance came from a certain strength in his character that was refined in the fires of war, and I now want to acknowledge that I consider our friendship as a blessing.
The dilemma of trying to fit in had to have been nothing less than crazy-making. I recall one account, told to me personally by Terry, which did not make it into his book. On a summer night in Oklahoma City, fresh out of the Marine Corps, Terry and a girlfriend were out for a relaxing cruise in her convertible, when some ill-mannered teens in a passing car began hurling derisive comments in their direction. By reflex, Terry grabbed his service .45 automatic from under his seat and fired left-handed at the offending vehicle, missing the front-seat passenger but sending the passenger door handle of that '57 Chevy into low-earth orbit. Today the incident would be correctly described as an incident brought on by post-traumatic stress disorder. That night, it was a rock-solid case of existential rage. The offenders truly had no idea with whom they dealt.
The Second Tour sharply illustrates the stark reality of coming home. It was, and, in many instances still proves to be an overwhelming challenge for many of those returning from the military. Reading Terry's account has helped me better understand my own father and why he never spoke about his experiences in Patton's 3rd Army, 80th Infantry during WWII. This book has opened my eyes to Terry's plight, past and present, and to those of his many fallen comrades like no other book could. I sincerely hope that writing it has been a cathartic experience for him, in even the slightest sense, and that it has given him some relief. I will share this book with as many people as possible. Rizzuti's story, while terrifying, authentic, and life changing is also a story that demands much more illumination; giving voice to the thousands of Terry Rizzutis who continue to suffer in silence.
I thank Terry Rizzuti for writing this book, and I thank him for sharing it with us. Most of all, I thank him for the privilege of his friendship. I would also thank all those who served in that thankless war. Your country and its citizens owe you a debt of honor.
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