Soldier's Personal Accounts of the Vietnam War and The Vietnam War and the Tragedy of ConfinementAfter reading Soldier's Personal Accounts of the Vietnam War and The Vietnam War and the tragedy of confinement, the two pieces of information did not contradict each other. What the two pieces of information actually do is complement each other. As we read The Vietnam War and the Tragedy of Containment, we read a historical analysis from the perspective of a historian. But not all analysis can actually give readers a sense of what war is really like. So, by reading soldiers' personal accounts of the Vietnam War, we read what Vietnam War soldiers actually experienced and what they thought. For example, in The Vietnam War and the Tragedy of Containment, he describes: “The military wanted evidence of enemy casualties – high “mortality rates” – to present to Washington. Philip Caputo recalled: "If she died and her Vietnamese, it was the Viet Cong, that was the general rule" for compiling casualty statistics. Similarly, in The Vietnam War and the Tragedy of Containment, it is written: “In March 1968, an American unit was patrolling the village of My Lai, in central Vietnam. She had recently suffered losses, was frustrated by her inability to find the enemy, and anxious. to take revenge. They rounded up unarmed women, children, and elderly civilians, raped the women, then opened fire and killed more than 300 Vietnamese civilians, mostly women and children. Reading these passages, readers feel disgusted by the war and the way leaders addressed their frustrations over who their enemies were. But reading these passages does not provide personal details of what the soldiers were feeling or thinking while these tragedies were occurring. For example, taken from the soldier's personal accounts of the Vietnam War, "The Commo Man," he describes a very powerful account of how a Vietnamese civilian was shot by an American soldier: "I knew what the sergeant was going to do. do, but I didn't do it. I didn't say anything. I just watched, as if in a dream, disconnected from the world around me, paralyzed, helpless. I could have stopped it. The Bummer and I were close. All I had to do was say, "That's too bad, Don. I won't do it." Just four little words, and the spell would have been broken. Instead, I said nothing and watched as Sarge put his rifle on his shoulder, aimed and fired..