Dear Mom, I'm Alive

Mains, a helicopter pilot for a year in Vietnam, has written a fast-paced memoir with some entertainment value but little of the darkness and complexity of the better Vietnam books. Organized around Mains's innocuous letters home in 1968 and 1969, this book depicts raucous, prank-filled camaraderie on the ground, thrills and terror in the air and general detachment from the guts of the war. In his year, Mains goes from a gung-ho ``new guy'' to a time-serving survivor. Though he sometimes succumbs to cliches, Mains's best passages describe the art of flying, traversing the thin line between a successful mission and disaster. One routine flight turns into a waking nightmare as Mains's aircraft is virtually becalmed, hovering at 75 feet and under enemy fire. Self-described as young and apolitical, Mains hardly reflects on the ugliness and cost of the war until the end of his tour: he evacuates a village after battle, and, given a grunt's-eye view, sees the grotesque, partially nude bodies of the Vietnamese dead. He also confronts tragedy, picking up dead soldiers ambushed by their fellows, and transporting a soldier who accidentally shot his best friend. But he spends even more space detailing a rowdy R&R trip to Bangkok in which he wound up being chased by a Thai prostitute wielding his Buck knife. (June) no hard copy