When John “Jack” Picciolo spoke last week about the library he funded in Binh Dinh Province, where he served during the Vietnam War, he doesn’t exhibit the glowing pride that one might typically expect.
The 83-year-old veteran’s bright blue eyes grew translucent with tears, guilt and sorrow overcoming his otherwise stoic visage.
“You pay for the war for the rest of your life,” Picciolo said, almost 60 years after his nine-month stint in the southeast Asian country.
Picciolo said he is considered 60% disabled from Agent Orange, the now infamous herbicide the United States government disseminated in Vietnam to control vegetation.
Exposure to the chemical, which contains the toxic contaminant dioxin, is associated with at least 19 diseases, including many cancers, hypertension, Type 2 diabetes and Parkinson’s disease, according to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs.
But Picciolo said the greatest impact is the lasting mental toll of a war that he said left him “without a scratch” while 150 other members of his unit lost their lives.
“What the hell am I doing here?” he said he thought as he sailed back to his home country, away from the war that left more than 58,000 Americans dead.
That’s not counting the number of Vietnamese soldiers and civilians whose deaths he never heard of, but helped orchestrate as a soldier tasked with sticking “a pin in a map” to calculate firing data for field artillery.
It took years for Picciolo to let himself question the politics of the Vietnam War as well as his own role. He said to this day, he hasn’t really opened up about the flood of anger, frustration and trauma that followed.
“I keep it in myself, mostly,” Picciolo said. “Each person who comes back has a different individual feeling about what they did … There’s guys who were happy, guys who liked it. Most of my unit just wanted to forget about it.”
Building a library to make amends wasn’t Picciolo’s idea. He met Charles “Chuck” Theusch, 73, through his volunteering with the nonprofit Vietnam Veterans Against the War.
Theusch, who in 1984 ran unsuccessfully for Congress in Illinois’ 11th district, doesn’t exactly align himself with that political movement. But he has collaborated with them on his project to build as many libraries as possible in rural southeast Asia communities affected by the war, called Children’s Library International.
“I’m kind of a flag waver, and most people are, regardless of their political views,” Theusch said. “For me, (giving back) is a very American thing to do, the idea of striking the balance for peace in the wake of war.”
Picciolo said after learning of Theusch’s mission, he wanted to support the project however he could, which at first looked like donating a couple thousand dollars here and there toward the construction of libraries. When the two eventually spoke on the phone, he said they discussed building a small library, with Picciolo ending up funding half the cost.
“I just thought, ‘well let’s just go all the way here,’” Picciolo said, providing a $62,500 grant that was matched within Vietnam. His only condition was for the library to be in one of the areas where he served.
What resulted was a learning center for the 532 students who attend An Thanh Commune Primary School in the mountainous Hoai An District, complete with a computer lab, books, periodicals and furniture.
He said he hopes to continue contributing however he can to Theusch’s project, and the idea of helping build computer labs within libraries and learning centers in underresourced communities excites him. He considers traveling back to Vietnam, but realistically isn’t sure if he’ll make it there to see the library dedicated in his name.
Picciolo spoke of death with the Daily Southtown. As did Theusch, 73, who also faces disability related to Agent Orange and just left an intensive care unit in Milwaukee Monday.
However, both men said they are grateful simply to have been able to see the effect of their donations, however small. They said they think often of the dwindling numbers of veterans like them, and see peace in passing, whenever it comes.
Picciolo gingerly paged through a magazine filled with photos taken of the construction process as well as the finished building. When explaining his impact in the autobiographical section, Picciolo kept it simple.
“(Vietnam’s) future is educating their young people, and I had the funds available to build a library,” he wrote. “I can only hope this project will replace my negative thoughts of my participation in the Vietnam War.”
ostevens@chicagotribune.com