Staking the heart of the SwiftVets vampire

From a piece today in Editor & Publisher" (boldface added; hat-tip to InstaPundit):

Some of the reporters covering Kerry said that the candidate had become less accessible on the campaign plane in recent weeks, with a few speculating that it might be because he did not want to face questions about the swift boat issue. But among them, different views arose over the swift boat story, with some saying it had gone on too long and others believing it was news that had to be covered.

"What I've heard from colleagues is that people feel it probably has had too long a life," said Frank James, a Chicago Tribune reporter. "We wish someone would put a stake in this vampire."

James also said some wondered why Kerry did not take on the issue himself earlier on. "He should have knocked it down early, but the campaign clearly thought it would go away."

Okay, fair enough.  Only one person — John F. Kerry — can stake the vampire, and the "stake" would consist of three parts:

• He'd end the coverup:  Kerry would sign Standard Form 180 and authorize, even expedite, the release of every bit of the military's records regarding his combat service — all the after-action and spot reports, all the communications logs, all the medical records, all the backup for his commendations.  He'd authorize and encourage everyone from those days with first-hand knowledge to make themselves available for lengthy, detailed interviews by knowledgeable reporters in a public forum — no more hiding his friendly witnesses behind his campaign's handlers.  He'd release his wartime journals that have previously have been given only to Brinkley.  He'd turn over the home movies.  He'd bring out the medals and/or ribbons still in his possession.  He'd show us the original written citations for his medals and explain why there are multiple different versions of them.  Then he'd sit down in a public forum with John O'Neill and answer, without equivocation or making countercharges, the questions that O'Neill would put to him on behalf of the SwiftVets.  And at the end of it, he'd look the camera in the eye, and say, truthfully, "I've now done everything I can to bring to the American people all the details of my military service, from start to finish, and I'll let you decide if I did or didn't deserve the medals I received, and whether I did or did not serve with honor and distinction."

• He'd apologize:  He'd call a press conference — maybe at the Vietnam Veterans' Memorial on the Mall in D.C.  He'd re-read the beginning of his testimony to the Fulbright Committee.  Then he'd admit that he had no first-hand knowledge of the brutal charges he made back then.  He'd admit that he'd knowingly and recklessly made statements that the North Vietnamese used to perpetuate lies and to humiliate and torture the comrades he'd left behind.  He'd admit that he consorted with this country's enemies when he met with representatives of the North Vietnamese government and Viet Cong in Paris while he was still an officer of the United States Naval Reserve.  And then he'd apologize, from the bottom of his heart, for the pain he caused his fellow veterans and the harm he did — not only to this country, but to millions of Southeast Asians who suffered at the hands of our enemies when our country lost its national willpower.

• He'd promise to learn from his mistakes:  At that same press conference, he'd tell the American public what he's learned from all this.  He'd admit that he was wrong to repeatedly embellish and exaggerate his wartime experiences — like the "Christmas in Cambodia" story — for political gain.  He'd admit that he was wrong to blame President Bush for the anger and resentment that John Kerry had himself engendered among his fellow veterans and many in the general public.  He'd admit that he'd been mistaken in covering up the details of his war record that might not reflect well upon him.  And he'd promise that if elected, he'd never again unfairly impugn the honor of our country's men and women in uniform, nor give propaganda material to our enemies, nor cover up and blame others for his own mistakes.

That would slay the vampire.  It would require more bravery than he's ever shown during his entire life, and it would be more painful than all of his three Purple Heart wounds combined.  But he could be done with the whole controversy before the middle of September.  And then John Forbes Kerry could spend the rest of his campaign talking about the future — without saying another word, or answering another question, about Vietnam.

He could.  But he won't.