At the Veterans Memorial Museum in Huntsville, Texas, Vietnam veteran and Purple Heart recipient Dr. Richard Watkins, who retired at the rank of Army Captain, reflected on a complicated chapter of American history: The Vietnam War and Black soldiers’ experiences in it.
Watkins’ words, plus those of the late Brig. Gen. James T. Boddie Jr., offer a window into the courage, danger, racism, camaraderie, and complex homecoming experienced by Black Americans who served in Vietnam.
Fighting an unpopular war
By the time large numbers of American troops arrived in Vietnam, opposition to the war was growing, including prominent Black voices. Muhammad Ali refused induction as a conscientious objector, while the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. publicly opposed the war, connecting military spending abroad with racial and economic injustice at home. In his 1967 “Beyond Vietnam” speech, King called the United States “the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today” and argued the war took Black men overseas to defend freedoms they had not fully experienced at home.
“If you eliminate any group of people, you don’t just hurt them. You hurt us. You hurt this nation. That’s what has happened when they eliminated top brass who were African-American, female, or who had courage enough to speak out,”
Dr. Richard Watkins on the state of the U.S. military today
In Where Do We Go From Here?, King described racism, economic exploitation, and militarism as interconnected. However, opposition did not prevent Black Americans from serving.
A calling to fly
For Watkins, military service was a family tradition. Inspired by his father, Lt. Col. Ulysses Wesby Watkins Sr.—a World War II and Vietnam-era veteran—and other relatives, he set his sights on the sky.
At five years old, after seeing a jet fly overhead, he told his Aunt Sugar he would fly one day. Her response reflected the era’s barriers: “Rich, there are no negro pilots.” Watkins replied, “Well, I’m going to fly.”
Boddie connected flying and military service to Black excellence. Commissioned through his undergrad alma mater, Howard University, he entered Air Force pilot training and chose fighter aircraft, inspired by the Tuskegee Airmen. Graduating in the upper 10% of his class, Boddie chose fighters over bombers because of the influence and legacy of the “Red Tails,” the nickname of the world-famous Tuskegee Airmen.
Racism before combat
Watkins entered Army aviation hoping to fly airplanes but was directed into helicopter training due to military needs in Vietnam. At Fort Walters, Texas, his class began with 315 students, only two of whom were Black. Just 95 graduated, including both Black students, despite instructors’ apparent determination to force Watkins out.
To some of his instructors’ dismay, Watkins did what those in the helicopter pilot training world viewed as nearly impossible—he soloed after only nine hours of flight training.
Challenges continued at Fort Rucker, Alabama. Arriving with his wife and newborn child, and all of their young family’s belongings in a U-Haul, the room reservation for Lieutenant Watkins mysteriously disappeared when hotel staff discovered the Army leader they waited for was Black.
So, Watkins did what so many other Black people of various professions did when faced with such white hostility: Turn to the Black community. There, Watkins and family found lodging and a supportive community.
But that support couldn’t follow Watkins into classrooms led by instructors steeped in anti-Blackness. Watkins recalled receiving a “pink slip” after a check pilot failed him during instrument training—a training he knew backward and forwards. That expertise showed through when he passed his next check ride “with flying colors” and remained in the program, determined to serve a country that seemed equally determined to stop him.
Combat changes everything
Boddie flew 201 combat missions with the 559th Squadron, noting, “You don’t really know the character and the quality of the people you’re working with until you get into combat… then, you really know who they are.”
Watkins discovered that reality on Dec. 30, 1967. Leading a flight of 15 aircraft as enemy forces prepared for the Tet Offensive, enemy fire struck his helicopter, shooting out its hydraulics. Flaring out to land in a rice paddy, the aircraft landed on its tail, causing the rotor blade to come through the cockpit and cave in Watkins’ face.
Knocked unconscious and initially presumed dead, Watkins lay stranded for hours while enemy forces fired on rescue attempts. He lost substantial blood before a Vietnamese lieutenant helped him reach a recovery helicopter.
“Our squadron knew that if those of us who survived were not recovered by dark, we were dead,” said Watkins. “Plus, there was a bounty on helicopter pilots’ heads. So, they were certainly going to come in and kill the rest of us.”
Integrated yet unequal
The Vietnam War was the first major U.S. war fought by a fully integrated military, but integration didn’t erase racism. Black soldiers faced discrimination in training and were disproportionately represented among combat troops, disciplinary cases, and prisoners while receiving promotions at lower rates.
Project 100,000, launched in 1966, brought hundreds of thousands of additional men into service. Black soldiers represented a greater share of combat troops than their share of the civilian population.
In 1969, journalist Wallace Terry surveyed 400 Black soldiers, finding that 60% believed Black Americans should not be fighting in Vietnam due to inequality at home—experiences he later chronicled in Bloods.
Conversely, Boddie remembered strong interracial camaraderie in his squadron, recalling his squad as “solid citizens” you could count on. Both realities coexisted.
Coming home to a different war
Returning home brought new battles. Many Black Vietnam veterans struggled with employment and VA obtaining benefits. PTSD was not yet formally recognized, leaving veterans to carry traumatic memories alone. Divorce, drug addiction, and suicides have been all too common parts of Vietnam veterans’ story.
“So many of us just didn’t have the ability to sustain those experiences, and even want to live. At one time, we were losing 21-22 Vietnam vets a day by death at their own hands,” said Watkins. “If it had not been for my family and my faith, I probably wouldn’t be here.”
Veterans were met with hostility, often called “baby killers.”
Watkins reflected, “I eventually came to understand that we had no business being in Vietnam, but we served anyway… We didn’t deserve to come home and get treated like criminals.”
A legacy beyond Vietnam
Watkins eventually earned an MBA from Texas Southern University (1975) and a doctorate in Educational Leadership from Nova Southeastern University (1995), in addition to the bachelor’s degree he earned from Prairie View A&M University before the war in 1965.
Boddie accumulated over 5,000 hours of jet fighter experience, earned numerous military decorations, and served as interim president of Texas Southern University from 2006 to 2008.
Their legacies extend beyond the battlefield, serving as a reminder of the realities of war.
“War is a horrible thing under any condition,” Watkins said.
DN VIDEO: Watkins ’ assessment of today’s military and its leadership (i.e., Trump and Hegseth), and his message for those considering entering the military.
