What is the one memory of Vietnam that you think of most often?
There are a couple, but I’m not going to share them with you. [He pauses.] I guess the one I remember most is the first time we were out on patrol and encountered the enemy. I remember we hit the ground and the guy next to me—there’s a little humor here, but it didn’t seem funny at the time—he said, “You just got your first medal.
Now you qualify for the Combat Infantry Badge.” I said, “I didn’t do a thing. I just got shot at!” And he says, “That’s all you have to do!”
What about the Bronze Star you were awarded?
We just ran into some bad guys and saw them before they saw us, and we prevailed, and they didn’t. Why someone would even think that particular incident was worthy of that kind of recognition, I don’t know. I didn’t ask for it; I’m grateful for it, but seriously, there was nothing particularly heroic.
Did you have any problems adjusting to civilian life?
Very few, but there were some. By and large, [though,] no. One reason, I think: I was probably older than most of the men I served with. I was the only college graduate in my entire company of men. I think that was a huge emotional and intellectual advantage. And, of course, I came back home to that environment that I left, a very nurturing, loving family. My dad, my idol as you can tell, wrote me a letter every single day I was in Vietnam. Obviously they didn’t have daily delivery, but I’d get packages. He had this old black typewriter—he was a hunt-and-peck guy—and he’d type me out a play-by-play description of the Super Bowl.
After the war, I had a couple of private moments. You can’t help not…
Did you learn anything about yourself in combat?
I was never a very good athlete; I got cut from the baseball team. I know I could have been the 12th guy on the basketball team—I swear today I could have been that 12th guy—but I got cut. I’d never been pressed physically and emotionally the way I was challenged in the military, and I was more than up to it. If it was a pass/fail test,
I passed with flying colors. I’ll let someone else grade it.
I draw from my experiences as a soldier, but I don’t dwell on them.
Where were you, and what was your first reaction on 9/11 when you learned of the attacks?
I was in Erie, Pa. My mother was in the hospital. I was visiting her that morning—she wanted Dunkin’ Donuts—and as I was pulling into the driveway, state police told me the first plane hit. Then the second plane hit, and I’m back at my house immediately. I’m calling my chief of staff. By then you know it’s not an accident. I’m talking to my chief of staff on the phone. I said, “You better get our emergency operations center up. I’m coming in.” But it took me three hours to get clearance; they couldn’t even get a state police helicopter cleared. I’m talking to my chief of staff and listening to [NBC’s] Jim Miklaszewski trying to report on what he’s hearing, and he said, I’ll never forget, “I’ve heard a loud explosion on the other side of the Pentagon. Excuse me, I have to go investigate.” Three. And finally I got to Harrisburg, I hopped on a Chinook and I went to Shanksville. Four. Incredible day.
What did you see at Shanksville?
At certain times I close my eyes and see [it again]. I expected—because when commercial aviation accidents are reported, the tragedy unfolds and you see—major pieces of fuselage and tail and the engines. [But] nothing. A big smoldering hole. There had to be dozens of emergency vehicles. All these volunteer firemen from all over just rushed to the scene thinking maybe they could help. Now this is hours after it happened. They’re not in a daze, they’re just there trying to understand. [But there was] nothing! No engines, no wings, nothing.
As Secretary of Homeland Security, were you constantly learning things that made it hard to sleep at night?
I wouldn’t quite put it that way. The access that I had to intelligence relating to terrorist threats against America and our interests was, I think, beyond the average person’s comprehension. I was asked that question within a couple of months [of assuming the post]. My answer was this: “I don’t sleep much, but I sleep well.” I had the inside knowledge that in spite of all these threats—we’d get a threat matrix some days a couple pages long, some days a couple dozen pages long, on just the terrorist threat—that my country was responding in a very impressive and aggressive way.
