After a long cycle of dramatic fictions the true voice of the Vietnam experience is restored to those who knew it best: the veterans themselves, both living and dead. There may be a built-in flaw behind the idea of quoting letters out loud on camera (because on paper the written word has a silent voice that speaks to the reader directly), but director Bill Couturié does what he can to minimize this drawback by hiring an ensemble of professional actors to help articulate the emotions locked on each page: confusion, bitterness, terror, rage, sorrow, and irony. Viewers can play the guessing game of celebrity voice identification, but after a while the words seem to fade away beneath the horror of the imagery itself, a compilation of TV news stock, home movies, and other footage, including rare scenes from inside a North Vietnamese prison camp. The letters are arranged chronologically, and as American military presence increases so too does the viewer's emotional involvement. Some of the correspondence is more effective than others, but every letter is an eloquent reminder of the loneliness of the common soldier, and of the importance of that vital link through the mail between home and hell.
