Vietnam: No Regrets

I’ve listened to a *lot* of Vietnam memoirs, and *No Regrets* stands out because it doesn’t try to be heroic—or even particularly profound. Watkins writes like a guy who’s seen too much to bullshit you, and Truesdell’s narration sells it. His voice has that perfect mix of world-weariness and dry wit, like a drill sergeant who’s secretly a poet. When Watkins describes the surreal experience of being shelled while high on scavenged meds, Truesdell’s timing makes it darkly funny without undercutting the horror. That balance is the book’s strength: it’s funny, but never glib; harrowing, but never self-pitying. The structure is loose, almost conversational, which works in audio but can feel meandering at times. Watkins jumps between firefights, downtime antics, and post-war reflections without much transition, and while this mirrors the disjointed nature of memory, it occasionally leaves you whiplashed. The production is clean but intentionally unpolished—Truesdell’s slight rasp and uneven pacing (deliberate, I think) reinforce the ‘this really happened’ vibe. My only real critique? The ending feels abrupt, like Watkins just stopped talking mid-thought. But maybe that’s the point: war doesn’t wrap up neatly, and neither do the men who survive it. If you’re tired of war memoirs that either glorify combat or drown in guilt, this is your antidote. It’s messy, honest, and weirdly life-affirming—not despite the chaos, but because of it.