You said that no picture is worth dying for, but you faced almost imminent death every day for a time—how did you consolidate these two ideas?
You live in a constrained reality. In a sense, there are different degrees of danger, but even in the midst of battle, you can expose yourself and hopefully stay out of trouble. You don’t rush towards the fight, but you obviously can’t go the other way, either.
In the Life article about Larry Burrows, you said he was “either the bravest man I ever knew, or the most nearsighted.” What do you think it was?
Well, Larry did have bad eyesight. What is bravery anyway? I think half the time when you’re in the middle of the shit, you stop thinking and just start reacting. Although there’s nothing you can do about indirect fire, you can learn small tricks to protect yourself; bullets go through rubber trees, so don’t hide behind rubber trees. But you can’t get a picture by hiding; you have to expose yourself, and so I think we became foolhardy because we tried to convince ourselves that we’re bulletproof.
You mentioned that the bonds with your fellow photographers and fellow folks on the battle field were “closer than your mum.” Why is that so?
The emotions were unspoken. You didn’t have to waste time talking about fear. We were close almost by osmosis, when you shared the same women, drugs and gin. It was like taking communion with each other. I really hate to compare it to religion, but it was almost a religious experience in a way.
Did you feel disconnected to the world when you returned home from Vietnam?
I first went home in 1967. Life gave me US$500 to leave because it was becoming too dangerous, so I bought a one-way ticket to London, drove home, and nobody was there. I was adopted, you see, so I wasn’t that close to my mom. I stayed there for two nights, then moved to Paris, moved to New York. It’s a wild place, New York; I was arrested with Jim Morrison there too. But at the same time, I was seeing my friends’ photos in Life, on television; I was itching to go back. So I bought another one way ticket back to Vietnam.
Anything you miss about Vietnam?
The blowjobs at US$2.50 a pop. I did indulge a fair bit.
Requiem runs through Aug 21.
