An Excerpt From “Venoms” about the Vietnam Drug Trade

Larry was a twenty-three-year-old recently discharged Marine. Cramden said that he was typical of the Vietnam veterans, using heroin for fun and profit. He reminded me of the thirty-year-old Mexican I met at CRC who had a steady job moving lumber to and from Mexico. He smuggled drugs in his truck’s undercarriage, supporting a five-hundred-dollar habit. He was also a solid citizen, a family man who sponsored the Little League and was active in the city government. Tell me again the upside to a punitive approach to addiction.

Larry said, “I was drafted into the Marine Corps in sixty eight. They wanted big city punks with criminal records, figuring we would enjoy killing gooks.” His Michigan accent had no terminal G’s.

“You’re from Detroit?”

“Yeah, the automotive manufacturing capital of the world. However, my occupation was car theft, and I was good at it.”

“In Vietnam, how did you get into drug trafficking?”

“Dealing drugs is not a stretch from car theft. The lowest level of the drug supply chain fell in my lap. I went out and bought scag for my unit. I sold it at a profit.”

“Any other drugs?”

“I could special order anything. My jobber’s inventory included heroin, opium, speed, and coke. Vietnamese street kids sold high-quality ganja. The military tried to stop the selling of marijuana because of the bad rep back home.”

“How did you use heroin?”

“I snorted. Most grunts smoked, chasing the dragon. Very few injected it.”

“Why is that?”

“Needles are unnecessary when you have unlimited access to the pure stuff.”

“Why did you use?”

“Like my dad’s drinking, to mellow out after work. Only I never would have beaten my wife for serving dinner late.”

“It substituted for your evening cocktail?”

“Heroin was available and cheap, so why not try it? When the military cracked down on marijuana, scag filled the void.”

“How much did it cost?”

“For the pure stuff, two dollars a hit. Here in the world, it would be ten or twenty bucks for the watered-down crap they sell to junkies.”

“How hard was it to kick heroin.”

“No big thing. Diarrhea and goose bumps, all finished in five days.”

“Do you feel that vets need mandatory treatment?”

“Not really. I’m in rehab under my terms of discharge. The grunts I knew that used scag and DEROS before me had no problem quitting on their own.”

“How about mainliners?”

“It made no difference. I tried once, but it’s the same drug. I felt warm all over, but no exceptional impact.”

“That’s called a rush. When I was in Haight-Ashbury, flash freaks injected anything they could into their veins seeking that sensation—hot water, mayonnaise, peanut butter.”

“When you use scag, there is no need for added effects.”

“Do you feel that you are at risk to relapse?”

“Of course, but I have no desire, none of that nonsense about overwhelming cravings. If I use again, it would be like a nightcap or getting laid a second time the same night, but it’s not going to happen.”

“How high up the supply chain were you?”

“Entry level. A more detailed answer could get me killed.”

Oh my, I’m onto something here. “Can you tell me where the heroin came from?”

“Everybody knows they grow poppies in Northern Thailand where it gets processed into pure heroin.”

“That area is now called the Golden Triangle. Remarkably, it’s a fully contained domestic industry from poppy sap to skag. Afghan opium goes to Marseilles to be refined into heroin.”

“It’s all the same shit.”

“Do you know if anything is being done in Vietnam to stop the flow of drugs to soldiers?”

“Are you kidding? Too many military higher-ups are on the take or using. Be a good boy and snort your ration of shit.”

“Anything else you might share.”

“The kingpin in the heroin trade is an ex-Marine known as Sargeant Smack. I don’t know his real name. He coordinates acquisition and distribution. Supposedly, he is putting together the means to smuggle wholesale junk back to the States.”

“Do you know how they plan to do that?”

“It’s under military control. Way above my pay grade.”

“You referred to heroin as scag? Why is the mastermind called Sargent Smack?”

“Stateside that’s its name, smack.”

“If you were in charge, what would you do to end heroin use among the troops in Vietnam?”

He laughed. “Send everybody home. The rest will take care of itself.”