Out of Nowhere

It comes from out of nowhere and it's impact is immediate and happens when it is most unexpected. It is that thought, image, trigger, smell, feeling, etc. that takes us back to Vietnam. Last night I was watching the story on the artist Robert Kinkaid on Lifetime. In this story his mother is seated outside speaking with a man wearing a field jacket. A little later that same man is speaking with Thomas Kinkaid in the graveyard looking at his son's grave. The man was saying how much he still missed his son, etc. The impact was immediate and tears began to flow down my face. I had to fight the sobbing and was barely able to hold it in. Memories flooded my mind and it was overwhelming to me. Our living room was fairly dark and I didn't want my wife to see me cry or ask questions although I knew she saw but this was something she has seen many times. I know she doesn't understand, but does know that this is a time for all to be quiet with no questions or conversation, even when it is over.

I used to think that one day I would have little memories of Vietnam and life would become carefree and "normal" whatever that is. But I have come to find out that for me it has gotten more intense as time has gone by. I am finding it very hard to hold in my crying and emotions. Something I have done for over 30 year. Is it harder now because I have spoken to someone at the Vet Center? Because of this blog? Is it the new war and seeing those injured at the VA?

What I do know now is that I'll never forget. The hardest thing is that I took so many wounded off the chopper and took care of so many dead but I don't know there name. And for those who died I can't go and find their name on the Wall. But it doesn't really matter. They are all my brothers and are in my heart and prayers.

Trust / Russian Roulette

Several days ago here in Omaha an Airforce Airman was died while playing a game of "Trust" where you show your trust by looking down the barrel of a gun held by another GI. I have not been able to get this out of my mind since I read about it.

When I returned from Vietnam I went to the Dundee Theatre here in Omaha to see "The Deer Hunter". In that movie Christopher Walken dies playing Russian Roulette. I was devastated by watching that movie and something about Russian Roulette was making me even crazier after seeing that movie. I went on a mission to go through my letters I sent home. It struck a nerve. I knew that I had experienced a wounded GI who played Russian Roulette in Vietnam or was my mind playing a horrible trick on me. Well, I found the letter I had written on 24th Evac Hospital Progress note paper stating the GI was dead in our ER. I remember getting him off the chopper and being in the ER at this time and the conversation of how he was killed by playing Russian Roulette. I remember the anger I felt at first wondering how he could have done this to himself, playng this terrible game, especially in a war zone. I thought of his family and how they would be told of his death and how it happened. Then comes the realization that a young man has died, one of my bothers who had a family who loved him and how much he will be missed. No, I have never knew him but I will always remember him. He and his family has always been in my prayers.

Thanksgiving Rememberance

Well, Thanksgiving for 2009 is over but not my memories of Thanksgiving of 1971. I was to leave Vietnam that evening. I was due to leave in two weaks but my youngest brother was hurt in a hunting accident. My brother's doctor put in a medical leave for me. It was a rush day as I would not be coming back. I had to process out in a very short time and catch the Freedom Bird that night. I got out processed that day and had little time for farewells especially for my Hootch Mate and best friend, Tom Hamilton. I got to a part of the base for the urine testing for drugs. I was the only one there and as luck would have it, could not go. They GI there gave me a sticker anyway and told me to head to Bien Hoa to catch my flight that night. He said I'd have to grab a ride outside the base. On the outskirts of the base I was confronted by Vietnamese civilians asking me if I wanted a ride. I sorta panicked and went to the MP Shack and called the 24th. With panic I told them I could not leave, that they were my family and I wanted a ride back. A short time later an ambulance from the 24th showed up with a couple of the drivers. I didnt' know them as I worked the night shift but they said there were to take me to Bien Hoa which they did. When we got there they advised the MP's and they kept an eye on me until I got on the Bird. The MP smiled at me as I boarded and told me to get on board and said he didnt' need to check me for anything, just had to get me on the plane.

The airline was Overseas International. We sat on the runway for a period of time and some GI's started screaming to take off before we get shelled. We took off and after it appeared to we were well into the sky, cheers were yelled out and the pilot came on welcoming us. We stopped to refuel at a military base in Japan. There were no newbies there as when I was going over there a year ago. It was just quiet with our plane being the only one there. We took off and flew straight to Travis Air Base in Oakland where we arrived about 15 minutes before we left Nam as I seem to recall. I purchased my tickets and took a cab with other GI's to San Francisco. It was late at night when we got there and the only thing I really remember is walking the terminal along with the other GI's returning but not really talking to each other.

I got on my flight to Omaha around 9:00 a.m. and sat next to an older lady. I was so happy she lit up first and I quickly joined here. (This is when the airlines moved smokers to the back aisles.) When she found out I was coming back from Nam she cut half here turkey dinner and give it to me saying I needed it more than she did. I got home and we went right to the hospital to see my little brother. I remember being exhausted. We got there and he said 'Aren't you glad I got shot, you got to come home because of me" or something very similiar. We got home and my brothers and sisters were there and said "Mom, show Mickey what he did you you while he was over there." She pulled off a wig and was totally grey. And my language/slang was what it was except a year older and mixed with Vietnamese pharses and my family laughed.

I knew right then that coming home was a mistake and I should have stayed with my brothers in Nam. I came from getting wounded off choppers, bagging bodies, etc. to ridicule and being called a baby killer - yes, my 2nd or third night.

At time goes by I thought I would forget but find that these are memories burned into my soul, mind and being. For some reason they seem so much stronger and I think and miss my brothers so much more. I know I will never forget my brothers and they are always in my prayers, thoughts and heart.

23 November 70

The majority of the guys I was in advanced training with received their orders some time ago. Most of them got Germany, Belguim and Italy civilian status. I have been doing special detail, i.e. KP, along with other shit jobs waiting for mine to show up. On Monday November 23, 1970, I received my orders for Vietnam - excatly 39 year ago. There was no shock, tears, grief or disbelief. I knew that would be where I would be stationed. I alway knew that. I remember being a young boy and asking my mother if I would ever go to war and of course she said no. Years later when my induction notice showed up. she hid it. Of course, having so many brothers and sisters, they could not wait to tell me they came, where they were hidden and where they were.So starting the 24th I'll be start out-processing and head on on leave 25 days leave right after Thanksiving.

Guilt

Guilt was easy growing up a good Catholic boy as it came with the territory. Now that I am older I realize a lot of the guilt I carried was not justified. I am better able to identify those things I really should feel guilty about and wish I could change the things driving that guilt. Some I can change to a positive where “It’s not too late”, like my family and kids.

However, nothing can ever compare to the guilt I continue to carry from my service in Vietnam. I have continually beaten myself up for things that happened or didn’t happen and I always want to take full responsibility for them. Some of those are:

Why wasn’t I a grunt? Seeing the wounded day after day made me feel so ashamed that I was there working in a hospital and not out in the bush. Why should they be the ones?

Why couldn’t I understand the wounded GI I was getting ready to put onto a chopper who was going to be on an air-evac to Japan. It didn’t matter that he could barely speak or get words our or that the chopper noise was deafening, it was my fault. Why couldn’t I have done better at listening and caring for him? Even today I see him lying on the litter trying to get me to understand and becoming more and more frustrated. My telling him he was going to be ok only made matters worse. Why didn’t I do better?

Why didn’t I fight with the doctors when severely wounded GI’s were only being made as comfortable as possible? Why didn’t I speak up? They talked with me about it, that he was dying and they could do nothing for him. But why didn’t I push harder, why didn’t I make them do something, take him to surgery, heal him and make him well?

Why didn’t I get them into the hospital sooner from the chopper? If I had maybe the GI would have lived. Why didn’t I work harder and longer? Why did I let myself fail?

And most of all, why wasn’t I killed? Why did so many of my brothers die and go home in a box? Any yet, I came back to the world on a plane, uninjured?

There are so many more things I feel guilty and ashamed about. The Vet Center has helped but I know in my heart that this and my experience in Vietnam is burned into my being and will always be with me my whole life. I know in my heart that I did my very best for them, but the guilt remains. Never a day goes by that I don’t remember my brothers and they are always in my prayers. You will never be forgotten.

Veterans Day - 2009

Tomorrow is Veterans Day and today at the VA there are cookies, juice and coffee from volunteers passing it out and thanking veterans for their service.

I have had only one or two thank you's for my service. You see, I come from the Vietnam War which was unpopular here at home and our service and return was not met by enthusiastic Americans. In fact, we seemed to carry a lot of blame for something we had no control over and just did duty called when called by our Country. Myself and many of my brothers were treated poorly upon their return. And I don't believe our Military Branches knew what to do with us. The war was going badly and I believe many of us carried that burden unjustly. I believe that carries on much today as it did way back then.

Veteran's day will be a very quiet day for me as usual and I'll keep a low profile. I'm sure I'll also watch some war movies that will be on and will just be focused on the war and all of my brothers. There will be lot's of tears and sadness as I remember the GI burned in the plane crash who died with the hospital staff around him, the two soldiers who died when their APC flipped over on them and the GI who had a RPG (Rocket Propelled Grenade) go off in his face and the sign that the hospital staff had by his bed that said "Don't say anything on how he looks as he is coherent at times". And I'll remember the night when mass casualties were coming in and we literally climbed into the chopper to get off the wounded who were pretty much piled on one another. One of those soldiers head was in my hand and I helped get him off the chopper. He was dead but I did not know it at that time. It was pretty bad as the NVA reversed a Claymore Mine, made a noise and they literally blew themselves up. As I went though his belongings there was a bloody card from his wife that said, "Just think honey, you'll be home in 33 days".

Veterans day is for remembrance. I will always remember all my brothers and you and your families will always be in my heart, memories and prayers.

November - A Time For Remembering Our Veterans

It's November and to many people it getting ready for turkey day and then the real start of Christmas shopping. To me, it was the time I learned I was going to Vietnam and the day I returned.

Most of all, it is a month that brings many tears and memories. I find myself tearing up at most anything and having a hard time trying to talk, hide my emotions and hold back the crying. I begin to wonder why this happens and then I remember that in November it is Veteran's Day. I believe it is burned into every veterans being, especially those who served at a time of war and more so for those who served in the war zone. For me it brings back memories of my fellow 24th Evac GI's and I miss them.

The memories of the fallen are so vivid and clear. I will never forget those soldiers that I encountered in Vietnam. The pilot so badly burned they could do nothing for him. My bunkmate who was an OR Tech told me of him before I went in that night. He spoke of the sadness everyone was feeling for him and that he was not alone as hospital staff took turns being there with him. HE stated that this young man told them that he knew there were other worse than him and were being treated first. When I went in that night I stopped into pre-op. He was unconscious but I came and went as the night wore on as others did. The nurse explained to me why they could do nothing for him, that he was blind and was not in pain. It was a very sad night. In the early a.m. I was there when the Dr. pronounced him dead. You could hear a pin drop as he listened for a heart beat but there was none. There were many tears flowing from the staff, much like the day staff had done earlier. God, how is wish I remembered his name so I could someday meet his family and tell them he did not die alone and that his 24th Evac family was there when he died and he was loved and shown the utmost respect. They will never be forgotten.

Ambu Bag - NVA

On Thursday I'll be having Cardioversion done again. It will be the third time I have had it done. My heart is beating really irregular and they will attempt to shock it back into rhythm. From what I found out by going to the Vet Center, heart problems are typical of veterans with PTSD.
During the prep time prior to the procedure, they will get everything ready including the Ambu bag should I stop breathing. The Ambu bag is the only thing I notice.

I had not been at my assignment at the 24th very long when several NVA soldiers were sent to our hospital. One of them was shot in the forehead. Because of the number of wounded in the ER, one of the staff took me over to him, showed me how to use the Ambu bag and then left me with him so they could tend to the other NVA and wounded GI's. At that time, this was very new to me. I had no medical training, and was just trained to be a Communications Center Specialist. This was totally alien.

I began to pump the bag as directed. After a short time I felt that I really needed to look at this person, the enemy, to prepare me for the time I may be needed for an American GI. I did not want to freak should I be needed to assist my fellow brothers. I looked at him and could see the wound which wasn't' that large and his eyes were half open and glassy. There was no movement. He was young. I kept pumping the bag and followed him into X-ray, etc. I was with him for quite some time before the staff was able to return to him. At that time I realized just how much blood I now had on my hands, fatigues, boots, etc. They took him to the ward for critical patients. I was informed a couple days later by my best friend Tom, an OR Tech, that he was dead.

As each day went by I realized that this would be my normal day from 7:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m. - seven days a week (a minimum of 12 hours a day). The only difference is that the above doesn't come near the horror I would see and the duties I would perform.

It's late and time to get ready for another joy and pray for all by Brothers. You are always in my thoughts and prayers.

My Birth to Kindergarten

I was born in August of 1950. I was supposed to be born later but the Dr. was leaving town so the decision was made to speed things up. I was born at St. Catherine's in Omaha to a Plasterer and Homemaker. My dad was a Catholic and my mom converted. Boy did she, I guess that would explain the eight kids. Of course I don't remember much of my early life as most others. About the only thing I remember is a couple things at Kindergarten at Edward Rosewater School. I remember the name cards with our names on them and another kid smiling at me when we were hitting the piano keys. I would later be in Catholic Grade School with him. The main thing I remember is that one day after nap time, I could not reach the higher shelf in the closet to put up my mat. (I was shy to tell the teacher or ask for help.) I tried and tried but was unable to do it. Somewhere, somehow I ended back in the classroom but missed the graham crackers and milk. My mom was angry and talked to the teacher about this and I actually remember being embarrassed by that. Well, that's all I remember up to five years old.

It may sound crazy but after 59 years on this earth I have often wondered if I hadn't been induced, would that have made any differences in my life? I do know that it would have had an impact on my draft number. It could have been higher or lower with a major impact on my life either way, but were there any other things impacted by the date I should have been born on the day I was to have been?

There was a positive in all of this and that was my Army service in Vietnam and I'll write of those impacts in future post.

The Korean Officer and His Soldier

At the 24th Evac, we saw many GI's from Countries who had soldiers serving in Vietnam from Australia, Korea, Thailand, etc.

One night two Korean Soldiers came into the A&D. One came over to me and, with extremely poor English, tried to speak to me. It was a rather odd moment for me. I had heard that the Koreans were fierce fighting men and perhaps that was a big carryover from the Korean War and that had been a conversation between me and other GI's from time to time at the 24th. Now here we had an Officer trying his best to seek help for his soldier. After a period of time I began to understand what he was trying to say and was then able to talk to the ER staff and then they spoke with the Officer and was able to treat his man.

One thing that really touched me that night was the Officers treatment of his soldier. He showed such concern, compassion, etc. for him and displayed that openly and by the look of his man, that was extremely important and needed. To this Officer it did not not seem to matter that the medical issue was small, what mattered was his soldier and a human being.

For a short time that night I didnt' think about all the tradegy around me but of the Officer's support and caring he displayed. I was touched by what I had witnessed and that in all this madness, there was a simple act of kindness and concern that not only touched his soldier but me as well.

A Good Catholic Boy

I was born into a Catholic Family, Baptized Catholic and had most of the Sacraments. I know that I will never change my Religion but have the utmost respect for all Religions but Catholic just happens to be mine. Now I'd like to believe I'm a "Good Catholic Boy", but I'm sure at the end of it all, God and I will be having it out. I have a lot of things to say to him and probably a lot in my life he wasn't too keen about that he wants to address. So, if you are up there at the same time as are waiting to find out where you'll end up, you better get in line before me because who knows long long this will take. But then again, it could be a good show.

My family was poor, but as Catholics had eight kids. (The eighth was free at St. Catherine's Hospital in Omaha.) I was second oldest and the first boy.

I'll have a lot to say on my upbringing and early life in other posts but I'll just touch on growing up Catholic a little here today. I went to St. Rose Catholic Church and School in Omaha. I started serving mass in perhaps 3rd grade or so. My speech wasn't the greatest then or now as far as I am concerned. To learn Latin was awful and I was awful at it. I remember my first mass with Fr. Moron. I was scared, he was mean and of course my mom was in the hospital giving birth again so she couldn't be there.

I did a terrible job, the priest got mad and I think I cried. Little did I know that until the eighth grade (and off and on in high school) I'd be serving mass a lot. Fr. Moron would call early many times as he was going to say mass earlier. I think he called me and I served so much as we didn't have money to give the church. My oldest sister was actually sent off to a Public School somewhere during her school years as boys were more important and had bigger shoes to fill and thought of less that women. (My opinion.)

After mass and before school me and the other Alter Boy would sometimes have a little wine and the large host (not yet consecrated) for breakfast. I think at times we even added a little jelly. Of course it was unleven bread so it didn't taste that great.

I loved serving funerals because we got to ride in a limousine (a real limousine) with the priest. And if we were lucky we would go to a cemetery clear across town and miss the whole morning of school. At the time I really knew nothing of death other than the people were sad and cried. One thing touched me was when the coffin had the American Flag on it. I can't describe how I felt or why, I just knew it was something very special.

Ok - I know the question that is burning in your head. Was I sexually abused as a young boy by the priest. No, never happened. Never close. Never?

Well, right after I got out of the service there was an incident. It could not have come at a worse time. I was a total mess and hanging on by a thread. In the near future I'll write of that incident.

Just a few more Catholic thoughts, etc.:

• I don't believe I have to go to church every Sunday. That does not mean I am a good Catholic nor is it the only place to pray. I do, however, feel very comforted when I am in church.
• I don't go to confession or reconciliation as it is now called. During mass in Vietnam there was a general confession where one confessed their sins directly to God and to me, that just made more sense and I could be more honest.
• I dislike it when the choir or parishioners sing "Let There Be Peace On Earth". I am overcome with emotions and flooded with memories. I find it very hard to try to hold my emotions and tears in and usually fail.
• For me, being in Mass in Church bring a flood of emotions at times which, at times, makes it difficult for me to keep hidden. But then - the congregation is probably looking at me as "Why is that guy crying - the priest just told a joke?"

Well, that's a little about my religion and I'm sure I'll be talking about it some more.

He said "I need help" - What could I do?

A young soldier came into the A&D office one night. He looked like all of the young men serving in Vietnam. The Jungle Fatigues, Jungle Boots, etc. I spoke with him. He became user of drugs and wanted help. I don't remember if ER Staff saw him or not but do remember that they felt there was nothing they could do for him and he would have to come back tomorrow.

It was one of those few nights where it was somewhat quiet. He was sitting on one of the four or five chairs we had. I grabbed one of the old magazines laying around and went over and sat by him. I started a little conversation and he asked that I close the magazine, which I did. Do I remember the little bit of conversation we had. No. But I remember him saying "I need help".

These three words really hit me hard. "I need help." What could I do?" He was already turned away as there was no physical injuries, wounds, etc. that we saw constantly. What could I do? I sat there with him for a little while, neither of us speaking. "What could I do"started to sound like "What can I do." Many different things. I could just sit in silence. I could go back to work on the admissions report or the 24 hour report, etc.

"What can I do" began to sound like "I can help". I asked him to sit there and I went behind the curtain into ER. I spoke to one of the nurses and pleaded my case for this young man. She listened. And she didn't say "What can I do". She said "I can get him admitted. It may be for only tonight but I can get him admitted." She did.

I'll never know what happened after he was admitted or what happened in the following days, weeks and years. But I do know that he is my brother always in my heart, thoughts and prayers.

Don't Ask - Don't Tell

In last Sunday's Parade Magazine in the newspaper there was a question on the status of the "Don't ask, Don't Tell" policy change. It quoted a Senator who stated something to the effect that he was brought up Catholic, was an Alter Boy and Straight but was for the change in policy as we needed more to serve in the war.

I believe it goes further than that and his remark should not be why we must allow gays in the Military. One's sexual makeup as being straight or gay does not determine the quality of the person or their abilities. I know many straight men who would do awful as a soldier and would tell you so. I also no many gay men who would make a great soldier and there are a large number of them serving today. I also had the honor of knowing some of them. And take a look at some of the officers who were discharged recently and huge support from there fellow service men but then again they were gay so they were apparently incompetent and unacceptable.

What are the determining factors that a person is solid and capable person? Why does being gay mean you are not capable to serve your Country. I served for over two three years and never once did that issue really become a factor as far as I was aware only only once did I hear a fellow soldier say it in a negative way towards another soldier. And this was in 1970-1973. Did I serve with gay men, along with married men, divorced men, men who got their girlfriend pregnant and need that job in their service for benefits an support of his new family, etc.? Yes. As in public life there are many, many types of people. I believe that I and most everyone else, do not have the right to judge and determine who is good and who is bad.

I myself believe those who commit crimes especially murder, rape, theft, abductions, taking advantage of minors, etc. are not good people and their are laws that have been broken and those people must be held accountable for their actions.

Who are we to say that two people who are attracted to someone of their own sex is unsuitable, bad, deranged, etc. When in the service, especially in a war zone one wants his fellow soldier to be qualified, watch his back, dependable and on and on.

When one is in the service, especially in a war zone that seems a zillion miles from home his fellow soldiers are his family. You depend on them. You eat together, shower together, go to church together, fight together, drink and party together, comfort each other, share your inner most thoughts and upbringing with. You will share a bond that those who never served will ever understand or know.

I believe that when in a foreign land and fighting a war for a people who have a different language, religion, history, etc. it brings even more loneliness, isolation and frustration. Many of those who served have made their best and most memorable friend they will have have in this situation and many times will never see again once they get back to the World. And for many of those soldiers that friendship will become more of a physical, hugging, horsing around friendship. At some time it may become a sexual relationship. They will reach out to comfort each other and to feel another warm body against theirs. Someone who will understand them, where they came from and how they feel.

Will this become a sexual romp just to get off? Probably not. It will be just two soldiers, two friends, two lonely and caring men who have formed a bond only other's in their same situation would understand. Is one or the other or both gay, bisexual or straight? Perhaps. But what I believe they are are just two men serving their country who in the midst of all the madness, death and destruction around them formed this incredible bond and at this moment in time share that bond and love for each other. They know they may not make it through this tough fight and may not see each other again after this is over but for that brief time know that tenderness, compassion, the warmth of another body and love exists.

Regardless if these soldiers just share that horseplay, headlocks, and just spending as much time together or take that it to the next level, Love is Love and I believe in this case more pure than most.
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After posting this I came across a website about soldiers who served in WWII, Vietnam who have died. One headstone carries the message:

"When I was in the military they gave me a medal for killing two men and a discharge for loving one."

A dad and his son in Afganistan.

There were two stories today, one on Fox's website and one on CNN's that caught my interest. Fox had a story and a video clip of a school children singing a song that praised President Obama. The other was a story that covered a father and son serving in Afghanistan. To me, the most important was the father and son story.

The story told of the "lifer" father and his family and how he raised his son and daughter. It contained information about the son wanting to go into the Army with the dad suggesting that he at least give college a try, which he did for a year. But he wanted to go into their service.

They are both paratroopers and part of the same command, but different units. This article spoke not only how close the family is but the closeness of father and son. When I looked at the picture it was clear to me the love the family has for each other. You know there are those pictures that don't seem really genuine and those tat are. The pictures were wonderful. One could immediately tell just how close and loving this family is and no doubt the love that is shared. And there was no doubt in my mind that both the father and son are true characters full of joy, excitement, adventure, mischievous, etc.

I believe it is time for our government to require that all representative of congress the senate and the president serve in the Armed Forces and receive an honorable discourage. Yes, there are some who could not serve because of physical issues that an alternative may have to be devloped, but still in service to our Country.

As for the praise for President Obama in the song, to me it's nothing more that some school children singing a song for an elected official who, as far as I'm concerned, has not yet proven his value to our Country and it's citizens - and I do wish him success and pray he will have all United States Citizens in his best interest. .

So instead of singing aobut him, let's sing a song of praise to the men and women who have served, are serving or will be serving our country. They are the true heroes that make our Country the land of the free.

May God look after you tonight and all nights and keep you safe.

Suicide is Painless????? ---- IT IS PAINFUL

Do your remember that song - tune from M.A.S.H 'Suicide is Painless"? I have heard that music over and over in my head for the last few weeks.

Today a women in Des Moines who works in the same arena as I do sent me an E-mail that a co-workers son committed suicide at 20 a day or two ago and she was overwhelmed with sadness.

In Nam at the 24th I experienced the results of both suicide and attempted suicide a number orf times. And I too have been overwhelmed with grief as to the loss of men who were soldiers and someones son, brother, cousin, nephew, grandchild and spouse.

As a good Catholic Boy and Alter Boy I was always told that if you committed suicide you would go to hell and were a sinner. But then I served in Nam and after I returned I began to feel differently. I missed my family in Nam and everything felt hopeless, just as I am currently feeling. I began to understand how one can be so overwhelmed in life that they either believe that is the only way to end their sorrow or, perhaps they are not even aware of their surroundings, feeling totally lost or just not aware of what is happening and beginning to fall off the edge of the cliff.

Have I ever thought of suicide? Often. I sometimes think that would be the best thing I could do. It would get me out of this sometimes horrible existence and reunite me with my brothers from Nam who my heart aches for. And, more recently, that hopefully I'd make people suffer and I'd feel - there I showed you. But what about those wonderful people who have crossed your path, if only for an instant. Those who you liked right away, who made you smile and in that instance touched your life forever? What about those you truly love and the impact to them?

You know, suicide really isn't painless. One may suffer incredibly before dying or may not die at all. And if they don't die, they could be maimed or disabled for the rest of their life living a truly horrible existence and totally dependent on others.

A number of years ago someone found my E-mail address from the 24th Evac's website who was a Nam vet. He wanted to know so much information about the hospital, casualties, their treatment, etc. To me he seemed to be close to the edge and very very sad. I responded and then made a point to E-mail him weekly and to tell him I was worried about him and to hang in there and that I was there if he needed anything. He too would E-mail me just a short note to say "Hi". After a period of time the E-mails stopped between us but I think of this stranger, a brother of mine, and pray he is well.

Suicide isn't painless and feeling hopeless, full of sorrow and lonely is not painless either. Remember, there is someone out there who cares and understands. If your a vet, go the VA. They have resources to help, something most Vietnam Vets were not aware of or made aware of when they were discharged.

Remember that there are people who really do care and I am one of them. It doesn't matter that we have never met, what matters is that you are a person, one who is special and worth the best life can offer you.

Going Back For Closure - Welcoming Dreams

Today on on either Fox or CNN was a story of Iraq veterans going back as civilians for closure. In this article, they referred to Vietnam Veterans and how that need was expressed or learned through them the need for that closure. However, for those going back to Nam this has been much later than what is happening with Iraq veterans.

I often go back to Vietnam in my dreams at night. The dreams are usually horror filled or extremely calming and welcoming.

In those welcoming dreams, I am back at the 24th Evac and nothing has changed other than there is no more war. All of the hospital staff are there and we all look and act the same. And we are so very happy to be together again. I know and remember every detail on the hootch's, the hospital, staff and perimeter of the hospital. It is sheer joy for all of us and to be around those familiar surroundings and each other. I don't' think I have ever experienced such joy

Unfortunately the dreams are short and as I awake from either the Horror or Welcoming dream I find myself so confused. Many times I believe it was real and I struggle to wake and figure out just what happened and where I am. And I can't believe it was a dream. How can something so vivid and alive be a dream.

A couple years ago I found out the 24th had a website and there had been a reunion in Washington, D.C. I searched out and was able to find a former 24th GI who served there several years before me. He sent me a book that had been put together for the reunion. I was devastated when I read that soon after the pullout of troops, the 24th was stripped by vandalism and that Long Binh was basically plowed under except for one building. It felt as if someone ripped my heart out.

My dreams of going back to see the 24th and Long Binh are forever gone but not in my mind and dreams. Those will never leave me nor would I want them to. I had always silently hoped of returning there and taking my son with me to tour the country for a couple weeks. My son was adopted from Korea and we have talked about going there together and stopping in Korea. How wonderful that would be to share that with him especially knowing he is one of the few people who have shown me respect for the little I've spoken with him about.

So, It's late and I'm off to bed after a very sad day or two due to comments made about my serving in Vietnam and the lack of respect I felt. I know in my heart I will once again be back in Nam tonight. It's so odd that one would want to be there rather than at home, but to me that was home and nothing can every make me feel otherwise.

When do you Fire?

Seven ex-CIA chiefs singed a letter to President Obama regarding opening up the criminal investigation of the CIA terrorist interrogations and the damage that it will cause.

When do you Fire at the enemy?

One night in Nam the radio crackled to life. A chopper had been shot up and the co-pilot was at the stick. He was directed to our hospital. Shortly thereafter, he radioed that he went down. Wide Minnow (the group that directed choppers to hospitals) wanted a fix and would try to get help to them. The co-pilot said "No" and he got the chopper back up in the air.

I was on the helipad that night watching the bird swaying all over the place as he tried to land which he finally did. The skids were bent from going down earlier and it wobbled on the helipad. We got off the pilot, crew chief, door gunner and the co-pilot walked in. All had been wounded with the pilot being injured the worst. As I remember it, his heel was pretty much torn off.

After everything settled down, the wounded taken care of and the pilot in surgery, we heard the tale from the crew. They were over the Saigon River hovering over a Sampan. There were two South Vietnamese Advisers on-board. The crew kept asking for the ok to fire. That approval never came. But the NVA on the Sampan didn't need approval and shot up the helicopter. It was a miracle that the GI's were not killed . And how were the Advisers injured? They weren't. I was on the helipad again as the co-pilot started up the bird and hopped over a small road to the small helipad that choppers used to load up on herbicides to spray the foliage to kill it. (Do you believe that? And taht close to the hospital) Again, with much difficulty he got it over to the pad and shut down.

In a time of war the emphasis should be on keeping our country, citizens and especially those in the direct line of fire safe. What happened to the rights of soldiers, this country and it's citizens? When do we fire? Do we become so immersed in the rights of the enemy that we risk the lives of our citizens and make them less important? Right now we are facing an enemy that places no value on the country, and men, women and children of their country. When do we fire? Human life must be valued but I do not believe that the enemies lives should be valued before out own citizens.

When do we fire?

Coming Home from War

On the CNN website today there are stories from IReporters regarding veteran fears on going home. I have not read them but had those fears on my return from Vietnam. As I had said in an earlier post, I was release a couple weeks early due to my little brother's hunting accident. It was on Thanksgiving day 1971. I was rushed to get my records, packed, processed and out that night.

It may sound strange but as that day progressed the more afraid I felt. I wasn't able to say my goodbyes due to the nature of my leaving other than to a few people. I remember one of the Ambulance drivers from the South who started crying and hugging me. I did not even get to say a real goodbye to my bunk mate nor exchange addresses with him or others I had been stationed with.

I was so confused. At first I was happy that my time had come to return to the "World". Then, slowly, I became afraid. It took me only a couple days to return home without those goodbyes or to even try to understand what was about to happen. It took me a day after I returned to realize this was a mistake. The "World" as I left it wasn't the same. It had progressed to a different time. Slang was different, people were different and I was what I was a year before, frozen in time except that I was no longer the same inside. I was overwhelmed with sadness for the sudden loss of "my family" in Vietnam. Those who you shared so much with. The joy of a soldier surviving his injuries and going home, working 12 hours or more a day with little time off. Sharing joys, sorrow and friendships. Hearing the song "Leaving on a jet plane." or "I'm five hundred miles from home." and not ashamed of crying or having tears run down your cheeks knowing that your feelings were truly understood. And sharing the biggest sorrows of war, dismemberment and death. Always remembering those whose suffered such pain, loss of limb, burns and death.

I have been back almost 40 years yet remember it as if it was yesterday. And how I long for those days again and I go back there daily in my thoughts and dreams. I have come to realize recently with the help of the Vet Center that no one would be able to sustain living that type of life for 40 years. But I have more understanding as to why I feel the way I do and I feel so proud of what I was able to do in that year and proud of my fellow soldiers. A number of years ago someone in Washington D.C. said that we were not the best but I beg to differ. We may have been from poor or minority families that were drafted, uneducated or could not afford college but we gave all we could for a country and it's citizens who were ungrateful for the scarifies we made. Yes, things may have tempered since then but the hurt we experienced, the name calling, etc. will remain with us forever.

To my fellow Vietnam Veterans - and all veterans from any era - we were all the best this country had to offer and this country is free because of us.

War Memories Renewed

It has been a week of sad stories from the wars in Afganistan and Iraq including stories of veterans who served and died for this Country. For me, this week has brought back many sad memories. I try to be what I perceive as my usual self, joking, telling stories for laughs, etc. Inside my heart is breaking.

First it is from all the E-mails I am receiving regarding sad stories of our veterans that break my heart. But when I investigate further, many of the stories in the E-mails are not true and I'm not sure where they are coming from. Is it from someone who believes they are being patiotic? Do they feel they are supporting our troops? Do these people, many who have not served our country, realize what this does when sending these types of stories to veterans, especially those who served or were involved in a war zone? I find myself crying more and more and trying to hold back my emotions. And as the week is progressing I find myself becoming more emotional for the simplest of reasons.

And then there has been the sad stories of Pat Tillman and his journal, letters and how he felt about the war, his fellow soldiers in boot camp, etc. And of the father who finished the book for his dead son and his traveling to Iraq. There was also a family that received word their son had died only to find he had not.

I read today how many soldiers are going to experience PTSD from their experience in Afganistan and Iraq. But I think of those who served our country in Vietnam and the huge impact these wars are having on us. Our war didn't really end in our mind and life (does any war) nor did we have the support of the country. For many of us, we hid our emotions and tried to be the best we could. Now many of us find that we can no longer hold in those feelings that we have felt for so long.

I yearn for the day when I'll no longer be on this earth and reunited with all my brothers and sisters from Vietnam. What is heaven to me? It is being with those wonderful veterans sharing stories our lives and service. It will be reuniting with all of those who died, especially those who I was personally involved with. Those who I was with when they died or stripped off their clothing secured their valuables and put them in that awful bag. I want to know their families and tell them that I and others were there with them, that weI cried for them and they were not alone.

Why does one wish they were still back there, reunited with people who you really didn't know but had this incredible trust and affection for? There is never a day that goes by that I have not remembered and nor will I ever forget. My thoughts go out to all our veterans past, present and future. I think of you daily and you are always in my prayers and thoughts. No matter what war you were from, branch you served, you were the best of this Country which would be nothing without you and your service.