Vietnam

Bang! Bang! Bang! Come on Veto SHOOT! Whooosh!....Whooosh! BANG! BANG! Izzzzzzzzz!....Izzzzzzzzz! Yells, Screams, Shouts, Moans, Crying, Indescribable sounds of anguish......all could be heard with a dizziness, surreal, fog-like, ears-plugged-like-going-up-hill sensation. Is this really happening, …..Oh shit!?!#*!?! I focused......finally!

My best friend, Robert, kept screaming at me, “SHOOT!” “SHOOT!” I finally “came back into my body”, focused, and began firing my M-16. At what, did I hit anyone? I doubt it. We were all firing at an area heavily covered with bush, trees, weeds, and plants.

The NOISE though, I will never forget...so loud so thunderous. Those of you who've been in a fire-fight, know exactly what I'm talking about.

Afterward, when we finally arrived at our destination, (Quang Tri) we were told that the body count had been two. TWO! After all that firing, only two bodies?!? I imagine that's difficult to comprehend.....wanting the body count to be more. Well, again, that's something known only if you've been there. It's a war; the winner always has the highest body count. Some squads (all of which I heard of) counted dogs, chickens, anything that once was breathing as a body. So if two chickens, one dog, and three Vietnamese persons (whether they were Viet Cong (VC), North Vietnamese Army (NVA), or innocent people) were found dead after a fire fight, their body count would be six. They counted ALL bodies whether human or non-human. That looked good at headquarters. We're doing good, we're getting them.

Fortunately for me, I drove a five-ton truck. I was stationed in Camp Eagle, right next to Phu Bai and a few miles from Hue City. I must of drove all over the northern part of South Vietnam; all the way to Dong Ho. Dong Ho is only a few miles from North Vietnam.

Anyway, that was my first of two fire-fights I was involved in. I consider myself extemely lucky. Grunts (infantry) have many more.

My First Day Home

I'll never forget one of the first questions that was asked of me when I got home. I had just gotten to my parents house and apparently word had gotten around that I was back. (I live in a really small town.) So before long relatives came calling to see me. It couldn't of been more than a few minutes since I had been home, when a cousin of mine asked me, “Did you kill anyone?” I remember it like it was yesterday I looked over at my Dad and smiling I told my cousin that I didn't know. She then asked me, “Where's all your medals?” I had the few ones I earned in my Army jacket pocket (just the regular medals everyone receives). So I reached in and brought them out.

I find it extremely amusing and confusing the ignorance that people show to someone just getting home after being in a war-zone. But, I've learned that people just don't know any better.

Afterthought

I can't really say why I wrote this. It's definitely not finished. But it's a start!

Love & Respect to all!