The Vietnam War documentary tells it straight

For the second time, Ken Burns had me transfixed. The first time was his "The Civil War" documentary. The second time was "The Vietnam War." I watched at least some of his others documentaries on baseball and jazz, but I was never addicted to those films as I had been to "The Civil War."

"The Vietnam War" is a fitting sequel to his civil war documentary, and it is just as emotionally draining and factually revealing. Long before Burns began doing his magnificent video documentaries, I had been a student of the Civil War and had read extensively about the war. The difference in his latest documentary is that I lived through the Vietnam War.

The filmmaker had no video or live interviews with participants from 1861-65, but he managed to capture the mood of the era through skilled use of 19th century photographs and sympathetic readings of letters and speeches of participants in America's most tragic war. Using David McCullough as narrator was inspired. His deep, knowledgeable voice set the tone for all of the visuals, and Burns used historians to explain the war and the people. Shelby Foote, a historian and novelist, became a celebrity with his insightful explanations about the war.

"The Vietnam War" includes video shot by news photographers and individuals. Some of the video might spark memories from evening news broadcast 50-plus years ago. Others are less well known, including video shot by Viet Cong and North Vietnamese photographers. For this war, many participants are still alive to tell their stories, and Burns and Lynn Novick found some interesting, experienced veterans of that experience to explain what the war had meant to them and to America (or to the Vietnamese). They wisely did not shy away from veterans who became disenchanted with the war or protested against the war. The participants include black and white, rich and poor, gung-ho and anti-war, a balanced presentation.

A few surprises are included, such as Lyndon Johnson catching Richard Nixon blatantly lying about interference in the peace talks (to benefit Nixon's candidacy) and a U.S. general's admission that the Viet Cong were excellent soldiers. The difference in the war, it seemed, was that the Vietnamese were willing to fight for generations or centuries for their dream of an independent Vietnam.

This latest documentary's answer to Shelby Foote, as the most knowledgeable and persuasive of the characters, is not one person but several. I found myself awed by Marine Karl Marlantes, West Point graduate Matt Harrison, Marine John Musgrave, Army doctor Hal Kushner, Navy pilot Everett Alveraz and Carol Crocker, whose brother "Mogi" did not survive the war, among others. All told their compelling stories eloquently.

Burns and Novick did not ignore the leadership in Washington who pulled America into the war and then kept us there, despite knowing that the South Vietnamese government was corrupt and unsustainable. Lyndon Johnson and Richard Nixon knew they were fighting the wrong war in the wrong way, but they kept at it to save their egos and marks in history.

The documentary also shows how shamefully Americans greeted returning veterans. Some spoke of being spat at, bullied and shouted down profanely. That treatment of Vietnam veterans remains a shamefully disgusting black mark against the anti-war movement. Even in a horrific and wasteful war, the vast majority of American soldiers and sailors served honorably and decently.

They deserve this unflinching look at my generation's war.