THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 2002 — One day in 1979, at age 10, I walked with my father into a sparsely attended matinee at the Liberty Tree Cinema in Danvers. It was a big day. Not only did my father, who lived by himself on the North Shore, have me alone for the weekend — without my sister — but we were there to see a brand new movie, Apocalypse Now. My father, both a fan of Francis Ford Coppola’s Godfather series and a veteran of the US Army Special Forces in Vietnam, was eager to see how this highly skilled movie director handled something that had been so important in his life.

I knew we were in for trouble even before Jim Morrison finished singing "The End." "What the hell is this about?" my father muttered. By the time Martin Sheen was halfway up the river in search of Colonel Kurtz, Marlon Brando’s rotund, ghastly Green Beret, it was almost unbearable. When Sheen and his men reached Kurt’z Khmer Rouge–style jungle compound, that was it. "Come on, Seth," he turned to me and said. "We’re going." We never got to see the great conflagration at the movie’s finale.

That personal episode was a far way from the scene at Copley Cinema last night. The promoters of the new Mel Gibson vehicle, We Were Soldiers, a cinematic portrayal of the infamous Ia Drang battle, brought together scores of Vietnam veterans, ROTC members, journalists, and other viewers to screen the drama. (I found the large number of ROTC members from Boston University interesting given that it was the program through which my father, a BU graduate, entered the military.) The movie is based on Lieutenant General Harold Moore (commanding officer during the battle) and Joseph L. Galloway’s account of the battle, We Were Soldiers Once ... and Young (Harper, 1993). Galloway was the lone newspaper reporter present at the battle. (My father was in Vietnam at that time, but far from the Ia Drang battle, which took place in the Central Highlands. He was in the Seven Mountains Region in the south near Cambodia.)

Before the film began, Moore’s son, Stephen, a West Point graduate, a former army officer, and currently an IBM executive, addressed the crowd. "Tonight is to honor the Vietnam veteran," Moore announced, asking veterans of his father's unit first to stand and then to introduce themselves. One immediately sat down, saying it was too hard. The others recited their names and where they had been based in Vietnam. When that was over, one audience member shouted that he, too, was a Vietnam veteran and that all the Vietnam veterans should stand. They did and one hollered "Welcome home, brother."

As for the movie's quality, I’ll leave that judgment to Phoenix film critic Peter Keough, who also attended last night. I will say it included scenes of graphic violence that prompted some heads to turn away from the screen. Seated next to me were two female students from a Boston University class on "Guerilla Warfare and Terrorism." I noticed them fidgeting during the bloodiest scenes. When the movie was over, I asked if they were okay. One answered that she was glad she hadn’t attended with her dad. "Was he in Vietnam?" I asked. "Yeah," she said. "So was mine," I answered.

Much has changed in the 20-plus years since the release of Apocalypse Now. Those who were young or not even yet born during the Vietnam War era are prepared to look at debates surrounding the war without the preconceptions of that period. And just as members of the so-called Greatest Generation remained silent for so long about their experiences in World War II, perhaps Vietnam veterans are readying themselves to tell their story. It took Moore and Galloway (a rare example of a journalist who was decorated for bravery in battle) 27 years to write their book. A new generation is ready to listen.