
Tom Sanders became interested in the plight of war veterans while working on a class project in college. He was photographing veteran Lt. Randall Harris when he showed Sanders a six-inch scar across his stomach. He revealed to Sanders that the scar was once an open wound that showed his intestines. Harris, who sustained the wound in battle, was unable to find help; instead of giving up, he wrapped cloth around the wound and continued fighting.
The story deeply affected Sanders. He thought about his own personal problems and realized what that generation of young men had to go through just to live from day-to-day. That’s when he began a six year journey photographing World War II veterans that culminated in his first book, “The Last Good War”, a collection of his portraits of WWII veterans and their stories.
The book was praised nationwide for the glimpses it gave into large hearts and worn faces of the fast-fading generation of WWII vets.

“Anyone who is close to a member of the ‘greatest generation’ will treasure these wizened faces captured before the entire generation is gone…. Just the cover of this book can break your heart,” wrote Publishers Weekly.
“Tom Sanders has…created a book that stands as one of our last great visual links to the storied faces of World War II,” wrote Rangerfinder magazine.
Sanders has since turned his attention, and his camera, to veterans of the Vietnam war.
Sanders has since turned his attention, and his camera, to veterans of the Vietnam war.
“The WWII veterans came back as heroes,” said Sanders. “The Vietnam vets weren’t recognized when they came back. A lot of those guys either volunteered because they wanted to follow in the footsteps of the WWII vets or were drafted and didn’t have any choice.”
Vietnam veterans have an altogether different story, Sanders discovered, than the soldiers who fought in WWII.
“I want to make people more appreciative of these soldiers,” said Sanders. “Those Vietnam vets were trained to live just for the next day, while over here we had it pretty easy.”
For Sanders, another critical element of their stories is their lives after the war.

“Less WWII vets have post traumatic stress disorder than the guys that went to Vietnam,” said Sanders. “The fact that they weren’t necessarily honored or recognized when they got back is tough. I think they have a harder time talking about it than the WWII vets because Vietnam was a pretty confusing war.”
Sanders doesn’t currently have a book deal, but is confident that the images will eventually work their way into a book.
“If it doesn’t, it’s okay because I feel like I’m giving back,” said Sanders. “I want to honor vets that haven’t been honored. I think doing this is therapeutic for them because it helps them feel appreciated.”
Tom Lasser

All Tom Lasser wanted when he got back from his first tour in Vietnam was pork chops, a Coors beer and a taco. He didn’t want a ticker tape parade, and the well-publicized Vietnam protests were off his radar.
“I just felt like a normal American citizen,” said Lasser. “I was proud of my service and I did my duty. When I got home I was a little bit on the numb side, I didn’t feel euphoric. I was just looking forward to home cooking.”
When he came home, nobody gave him a hard time about his service.
“I never got spit on like some Vietnam veterans say happened,” said Lasser. “If it did, I would have popped ‘em one… I’m sure it happened, but it didn’t happen to me or most guys I knew.”
While on leave in New York he had trouble buying his own beers – people everywhere were buying them for him. Men were friendly, and the women were even friendlier. After one raucous night at a bar he woke up with a couple missing ribbons from his uniform.
“Girls were taking them off as souvenirs,” Lasser said.
Lasser served in the Army for seven years and flew UH-1 Huey and CH-47 Chinook helicopters. He went on two tours to Vietnam and after his time in the Army, joined the California National Guard for thirty more years. He now works with the Vietnam Memorial Task Force in Redondo Beach, helping to raise money and design the Vietnam Memorial in Veterans Park.
For Lasser, Vietnam was a big adventure.
“There was a perception and an untold feeling of ‘I’m immortal,’” said Lasser. “Other veterans in other wars would probably say the same thing, the feeling of ‘don’t worry; it will be the other guy.’”
Lasser logged 1,750 combat flying hours and flew 1,000 helicopter missions.
“It’s not 24/7 bullets and bombs,” said Lasser. “There is a perception that we got shot at from all sides. The first time I got shot at I didn’t even hear it; you can’t hear artillery fire at altitude. It’s the infantrymen I felt bad for, especially the draftees. There were times I dropped them off and thought, ‘Oh my God, we have to get out of here.’ We were able to get out, but those men had to stay on the ground fighting.”
Ironically, halfway through serving his first tour in Vietnam, Lasser was drafted. His dad went to the draft board and told them his son was currently in Vietnam fighting.
“They thought, ‘Oh yeah, that’s the best, wildest excuse for a draft dodger we’ve heard!’” Lasser recalled. “He had to write a letter endorsed by my battalion commander and notarized by the JAG commander so they knew that I was indeed in Vietnam. But what proof did he have besides a letter?”
While serving, he was wounded twice. Once he caught minor shrapnel wounds in his foot and another time his face and his hands were injured when his helicopter was shot down. They were rescued about 45 minutes later.
“I was slightly wounded, but there was more urine in my flight suit than blood on me,” Lasser said.
For Lasser, he felt that his decision to serve was one of the most responsible decisions of his lifetime.
“For a young schmuck I made a lot of good decisions,” said Lasser. “Looking back I’d make the same ones.”
Phil Perles
Phil Perles joined the ROTC in 1961 to help pay for his college tuition. He never expected to go to war and stay in the military for 20 years.
After joining, Perles worked on the ground for the Army Signal Corps supporting soldiers with radar, telephones and radio devices.
“We helped them use modern communication so the combat soldiers could do what they needed to do,” said Perles. “Some people gave them their clothing, some gave them their rifles; we gave them what they needed to communicate.”
Perles served two tours, one during the Tet Offensive in 1967-1968 and also during 1970-1971.
“I was always in a non-combat situation, but we were still always on edge,” said Perles. “We never knew when we were going to be attacked. We had to be very alert and we knew that the men desperately needed the communication we were providing them with.”
Perles thought he would only be serving six months, but looking closer at his contract he realized that the military had the choice of keeping him for the six months he expected, or two years – depending on the global situation. Because of the ongoing war in Vietnam, he was forced to stay in for two years. During that time he realized he enjoyed what he was doing and stayed for 20 years.
“I was very relieved nothing happened to me. I had a wife and two kids at home. I felt like I wanted to contribute what I could, but I wanted to get out when I could, too,” said Perles. “I didn’t wear black pajamas and go up and down the river shooting, but I was just as important.”
During his time in Vietnam, he took a series of photographs documenting his life there. He sent them home to his wife and she put together a purple scrapbook that she called ‘The Views of VIET NAM.” Perles doesn’t know for sure where most of the photographs are taken, but the writing on the back of some of the photographs helps explain the images.
“Good grief, we are at war!!!” says one photograph of a gun high above Vietnam, taken from a helicopter. Another photograph of a statue of a soldier says, “Follow me, men (to the snackbar)”. Others are pictures of everyday life, including women working at the black market, and photographs of soldiers and women on beaches.
Perles appreciates that people have finally started acknowledging the contribution and sacrifice Vietnam war veteran’s made to their country.
“There were so many people that were anti-war,” said Perles, who came back and lived near Washington D.C. “There we were getting bashed for going over there. We certainly had to be very aware of our surroundings in our own country.”
Perles continued to serve in France, Italy, Germany and the Philippines. He eventually retired and then worked in electronic projects throughout California.
“I eventually had enough and retired,” said Perles. “But my service helped prepare me for my civilian job.”
Peter Whalon

Like most 19-year-olds in the late ‘60s, Pete Whalon was terrified of the draft. He wanted no part in fighting this war. However, in June, 1968, he was tricked into joining.
While hanging out with a friend, Whalon ended up at a recruiter’s office. Instead of sitting in the car to wait for his buddy, he tagged along and watched as his friend signed up. While in the office, a recruiter asked Whalon his name and shortly after, made a phone call. The recruiter then announced to him that his name was on the list to be drafted in August. Terrified of being drafted, Whalon volunteered at that moment. It wasn’t until years later that Whalon learned that the phone call was a fake, a trick recruiters used to get young men to sign-up.
“They were literally like used car salesman,” said Whalon. “They scared people into joining.”
For Whalon, his goal was to stay out of the war.
“It wasn’t a popular war,” Whalon said. “Nobody wanted to join.”
While at the recruiter’s office, Whalon thought that volunteering was better than being drafted. That way he could pick his school instead of being sent to the bush as an infantryman. To avoid going to Vietnam, he decided to go to teletype school.
“I thought they didn’t need teletypists in Vietnam and I’d be sent to Germany or somewhere else,” said Whalon.
He was wrong – and lucky.
After working in a warehouse in Saigon he was separated from his friends and sent to Long Binh, an army base about 22 miles north of Saigon. There he was able to use his California roots and finagle a job as a lifeguard, and stayed in that position for the rest of his time in Vietnam.
“Basically all we did was screw around and smoke grass all day,” said Whalon, who wrote a book about his experience with the title “The Saigon Zoo, Vietnam’s Other War: Sex, Drugs, Rock ‘N’ Roll.”
While other soldiers were required to be in their duty uniforms or jungle fatigues, Whalon strutted around the base in swim trunks and colorful t-shirts.
A big part of Whalon’s duty was avoiding addiction.
“There were so many idiots,” said Whalon. “So many people ended up being drug addicts. I think that’s one thing that doomed the war.”
Drugs were cheap for the soldiers. According to Whalon, an old Ritz cracker can full of marijuana was about $10.
“There were heroin and speed addicts all over the place,” said Whalon. “When the cherries [new guys] came to the base, I’d warn them not to try heroin or cocaine, and a week later I’d see them all strung out on it.”
Most of Whalon’s friends who were addicts in the war are dead now.
“They didn’t want to leave,” said Whalon. “They knew that when they’d go home they wouldn’t be able to afford to stay high. It was kind of like [the film] Animal House in Vietnam.”
As a lifeguard, Whalon was the center of the party scene. After hours he would open the pool to his friends and they would drink and smoke pot until dawn.
“Everybody wanted to stay in our good graces so they could swim after hours,” said Whalon. “It was like the Wild West; it was destined to fail.”
Next to the pool was Long Binh jail, where soldiers were put for drug infractions, ‘fragging’ and other crimes.
It was a constant reminder for Whalon of where he could be put if he was found with any drugs.
“I didn’t want to end up in the jail looking out at the pool where I worked,” said Whalon.
According to Whalon, whenever people ask him what he did in Vietnam, they are always surprised to hear that he was a lifeguard.
“When you think of Vietnam, you think of the jungle,” Whalon said. “But they had pools and other things. For every combat soldier there’s at least five other guys doing other things. People have to build the bases, work the mess halls and the shops. Most people get their information from wars from either documentaries or movies. Whenever people watch movies on war, they want to see fighting. That wasn’t all of it.”
Because of Whalon’s non-combat status, before leaving to go home he had a friend take pictures of him in his fatigues carrying a gun.
“I was hoping it would help me pick up girls,” said Whalon. “I don’t think I ever used them though.”
Whalon extened his tour so that he stayed in Vietnam for an entire 22 months.
“I thought – shoot, I’m down at the pool, I might as well stay here,” Whalon said. “I actually had fun in Vietnam.”
Tom Sanders is actively seeking out stories and faces for his project. Visit www.tomsandersphoto.com to contact him to schedule a photo shoot.
