Andy Martin as Dinky Dau, left, and Kevin Doyle as Baby San, converse — or hold separate monologues — in a card game.

By Margie Doyle

It’s important to bear in mind that Tracers, the Vietnam War-era play enacted at the Grange this weekend and the next, was written and produced by Vietnam vets. If not, the language — profane, obscene and ugly — would be only offensive. But this series of vignettes, powerfully enacted by young men who have no first-hand experience of war, portrays with shock and poignancy what we subjected our young men (mostly) and innocent civilians to from 1959 to 1975.

So while the opening night audience gave Tracers, as directed by Lin McNulty, a standing ovation, most left the theater with a profound sense of vulnerability, sadness, and not a little guilt. What remains is a re-creation of wartime authenticity that most of us who lived during the Vietnam War have never experienced.

As we observe Veterans Day, almost 100 years after “The War to End All Wars” and the first Armistice (“Laying down of Arms”) Day, we owe a debt to this group of actors and producers who show us the daily “real” life of what serving in the military meant — and probably still means, only with more advanced weaponry and a different climate. Nearly 40 years post-Vietnam, on our protected island, it seems important to name these actors and relatively young men, as it is important to record the names of those who served their country with the ultimate sacrifice. Those actors are:

Kevin Doyle as Baby San,  brings the unquestioning openness of the newbie, hardened into the convert’s embrace of coarseness and denial. He brings home a lifetime of regret.

Andy Martin plays Dinky Dau, the other new soldier “In Country.” He brings the tough vulnerability of the punk kid whose girlfriend writes to say she can’t wait for him, and who seeks to get higher and higher, even as he vomits all over himself.

Looking on is the hard-boozing Little John, a former medical student, portrayed by Nate Feder, who operates in an alcoholic haze and who, in one monologue, expresses the wistful beauty of “making love” in a world of four-letter obscenities.

Jason Dean, as the Professor, enters military service more as a philosopher than as a flower-child, as he is accused by the drill instructor. His refuge from the wounds of war is to retreat into himself and his books, to contemplate esoteric ideas and hope that in distance lies survival.

Philip Shane is the drill instructor, whose rapid fire rap and loud authority is over-the-top brutalizing. His justification as he stands alone onstage is chillingly on-target.

Mike Buckner plays Scooter, whose dream-life is indistinguishable from reality. It speaks to the brotherhood of warfare and the heart-breaking dream that they all come home together.

Peter Giampietro is the squad leader Habu, whose answer to every direct and indirect question is “So what?” His protective stance is to view warfare as just another game.

Zak Everly as Doc provides, in his interaction with the Professor, perhaps the closest relationship in the play. The two men, whose roles as medic and soldier,  may never had met; but they do and bond over books. They develop a stoned philosophical conversation, remote from the war they’re experiencing firsthand, that gives some relief to the hard-bitten jargon and scoffing obscenities most of the soldiers employ to survive.

But do they survive? That is for each playgoer to decide as the soldiers relate what happens to them after ‘Nam.

For this reviewer, what Actors Theater, as represented by the Tracers cast and crew, accomplishes on stage is astounding, giving us the life force and raw talent of rookies and hungry young men.

Tracers will run Friday, Saturday, and Sunday on November 9–18. All performances are 7:30 pm at the Grange. Tickets are $10 and are available at Darvills Bookstore, on-line at brownpapertickets.com, and at the door. For additional information, contact Director Lin McNulty at 376-1003. This play contains strong language and may not be suitable for pre-teens and those easily offended. Veterans admitted free of charge on Sunday, Nov. 11