Rolling Stone magazine should hire Kenneth Levin, one of the most persistent, diligent fact-checkers I’ve known in my years as a news reporter. He would have sensed a credibility problem in the now-debunked rape story by Sabrina Rubin Erdely. Levin, a decorated combat veteran of the war in Vietnam, talked about his experiences in fact-checking books he had written about the war: “Crazy Razor” and a sequel, “The Many Deaths of Comrade Binh.”
Levin readily admits to some artistic license, but each book is based on actual events that occurred during the war. Twice wounded in the line of duty, Levin draws inspiration from his own experiences and those of comrades, allies and mercenaries, as well as civilians and members of the North Vietnamese army.
In his books, Levin never forgets how deeply war affects both combatants and bystanders, or how battle sometimes forces humans to act inhumanely. Many of his stories are capable of moving you to tears, or disturbing enough to keep you up at night. At the same time, humanity has a knack for survival even in wartime, a truth reflected in Levin’s stories of humor, irony and love.
As one reviewer writes on Amazon.com, which carries Levin’s books, Levin paints a fascinating picture of the Vietnam war from the perspective of an active participant. His books highlight the incredible impact that front line participation can have on soldiers on both sides of the battle.
But while both books make for interesting reading, it was Levin’s insistence on making sure that what he wrote, based on his memories, were accurate. He wasn’t about to let an error or two debunk the book as Columbia School of Journalism reviewers did with the Rolling Stone article. So he and his wife packed their bags and flew to Hanoi for a series of interviews, traveling up and down the country.
Not everyone was helpful. One ex-pat embellished his own accomplishments. Another agreed to discuss the book, but only over dinner at the most expensive hotel in Hanoi. Others talked about their stress, injuries, families and wartime scars, and freely answered Levin’s main question: When you were drafted to fight in the war, did you think that you might never see your family again? Almost all said yes, but they would do it again for their country.
During the trip, he met with several Vietnam officers, all dressed in their military uniforms. They were gruff, but read his book and made corrections. As always to those who helped him, Levin asked what he could do for them in appreciation for their time. Yes, one said, when you get back home, ask President Obama to allocate more money to help us eradicate the Agent Orange residue still in our fields.
Levin, having no connections in Washington, forgot the request, returned to the East Bay and started writing, “The Many Deaths of Comrade Binh.” Then he saw a news report about Obama’s decision to spend more money to help Vietnam clean up Agent Orange. A few days later, the Vietnamese officers sent a letter thanking Levin for persuading the president to act. Sounds like another book!
