New Years Eve - December 31, 1970

It will be New Years Eve tomorrow and on that day it will have been 40 years since I landed in Vietnam. And although it has been 40 years, it remains so much of me. The flight to Vietnam was via Airlift International from California to Alaska, Japan and finally Bien Hoa. The stop in Japan was the longest and one where we saw retuning soldiers. I remember them and us as being quiet. Most of them had their jungle fatigues on and they were really worn out, dirty and much different looking than our new fatigues. And even though I knew these were young men they seemed so much older than their years.

After landing in Vietnam we remained seated on the plane as some type of crew came on board with camera’s and lights filming. A GI screamed out that the plane could be attacked which started a mad rush to the open forward cabin door. I seem to remember the terminal being open with ceiling fans and it just being hot. After processing at the airbase we went via bus to Long Binh for in-processing. I remember looking out the open, wire covered, windows of the bus at this strange place that was hot, had strange smells, music, the Mama-san’s with their hats, etc. It was such a different world.

When we in-processed we had to brush our teeth with that gritty tubed material at an outside “cattle looking” trough. I seem to remember a Sergeant saying something like ‘You won’t know when you’ll get to see a Dentist again.” There was also a sign in both English and Vietnamese saying not to drink the non-potable water. What the hell did that mean? I know several others beside myself who did take a small drink. We were thirsty. Also, It didn’t’ take long to realize that everything was both in English and Vietnamese. Later that afternoon we finished our in-processing and we were pretty much free to wander a small area. We ate at the mess hall that had a sign “Alice’s Restaurant” and checked out everything we could.

During this short period of time friendships were established between total strangers. We banded together in small groups as we explored everything we could, laughed and made fun of things each other did, or reactions. We shared information between each small group about what we found, saw, heard, rumors, etc. We seem to go from being young soldiers to just young teenagers, 20 year olds away at school or camp. I suspect to an onlooker it would never appear we were going into a war. And as day turned into night we eventually all went to our assigned hooch to call it a night.

Then, in the middle of the night, we heard the gunshots and weapons going off. It was dark and no one knew what to do. A guy fell from the top bunk and I believe his nose was bleeding. It was 20-30 young men scared, not knowing what to do. Then somehow, someway we found out it was midnight and the local GI’s were shooting off rounds of ammo, rifles, etc. celebrating the coming of New Years. I think we all may have felt a little embarrassed but I think it was then we truly realized we were in a war zone.

The following morning, January 1, we started getting our orders. As our new found friends left one or more at a time, we said short good-byes and to me it felt like I was losing a very close and dear friend. I have always found this a very sad time in the Service, but it has left me full of wonderful memories. I don’t know how to explain how one can just meet a person and have this friendship/bond established so quickly. I have experienced primarily in the Service, especially in Vietnam. I felt so sad when we all parted ways. I still struggle with this as I want to see that person again, to share memories and our friendship yet I don’t even remember their name. I spoke with a counselor at the Vet Center and he tried to explain this all to me but I still have an intense struggle inside of me and such sadness.

I think that this next year I need to focus on just how wonderful it was to have met these young men and just remember those crazy, unpredictable moments we shared and how fortunate I am that our paths crossed. Not everyone can have an experience such as this.

So, to my brothers, I pass off warm thoughts of friendships past. I’m thankful that we shared friendships, even if only for a brief time. Please know that you are always in my thoughts and prayers.

U S Embassy Attack - 1971

A coworker just came back today to work. She took a trip that included a stop in Cambodia and she brought back small gifts. She gave me a wood bookmark with a metal Elephant emblem on it. Hearing of her taking this trip and now her return brings back memories from Vietnam.

In 1971 there was an attack at the U S Embassy in Cambodia. The soldiers (Marines I believe) were playing some type of team sport for recreation I believe and an attack took place where a number of service men were injured and I believe some were killed. Although later it would be said the wounded were medivac'd to a hospital in Saigon, many (most?) of them were sent to the 24th Evacuation Hospital in Long Binh. I don't remember the numbers or if they were all sent to us, just that there was a large number of incoming wounded. The emergency room and support staff went to work and I remember the ER being full of wounded with more coming in. I was to get information from one of the Marines and get armband on him, etc. I tried to speak to him but he refused to give me any information. He would not give me his name, rank or anything. His superior who was either enlisted or an officer laying on another litter close to him. He was also being treated. He basically raised his voice and told him (ordered him) to answer me. If I remember correctly he told this young soldier he was in an Army Hospital and we were soldiers and Americans. The young Marine then gave me what I needed. Other than that I remember the mad rush and work being done by all the hospital staff and, of course, blood and cut off clothing everywhere. I also remember bits of pieces of what these young men's stories of what they were doing and the surprise attack.

It seems the littlest thing will bring a memory back. For these you men I again wonder what happened to them, their lives,etc. I also get mad at myself because I can't remember everything that happened, was said or more about these young men. Actually, I feel this way about my entire time in Vietnam. I know this may sound very strange but I'm afraid I'll forget.

All I can say right now is that my brothers are in my heart and mind and prayers and you are not forgotten.

Veterans Day 2010 - Part 2

I wanted to go back to Veterans Day as a follow-up. I did as I had planned that day and went to Mass around 8:15 a.m. I became very rattled at first and there were a larger number of people (possibly 50 or so) more than I expected. And then, since the Parish has a grade school, the school children were being led in by their teachers. I was almost panicked, forcing tears not to flow especially when I saw a statue of a soldier saluting on the Alter.

After the children were seated I went in and sat in a fairly empty pew with a couple people in the pew behind and in front of me. When the Priest was walking in the Children sang a song about America. Mass then started and the Priest came down to where the children were and asked them about soldiers and what they do, how they protect us, etc. He also named all the Branches of Service. Soon Mass continued and at Communion he asked all active duty and veterans to stand. The children all turned to look at us. I was such a mess and could not control the tears no matter how I tried. They then asked us to go get Communion first. Then before Mass ended we again had to stand up. Young children then brought us a small American Flag and then a first grader brought each of us a hand made card for Veterans Day and my tears got worse and I was almost sobbing. To make it worse I brought no tissue or handkerchief. At that time, with the Children still looking at us, they all applauded.

It has been 40 years since I first went into the service and this was the only time I had ever received a Veterans Day card or recognition. I was, and still am, overwhelmed. The following day when I went to work I told a Vietnam Veteran who I know only a little about the day and told him that if I would die now my life would feel complete.

Tears come to my eyes as I enter this post and words cannot express how moved I was and continue to be by this experience. I will never forget that day.

Thanksgiving 2010

Thanksgiving is now over and I'm really glad. It, as many things, brought back many memories. Of landing back in the world from Vietnam on Thanksgiving night, 1971. When trying to make flight arrangemnts homes at Travis (I believe) I hear a voice calling for Mahoney. It was a fellow soldier I was stationed with in either Basic or Advanced Training. He wanted to say hi. He also needed $20 dollars or so to fly home which I gave him. He said he'd send it to me but I knew I would probably not hear or see from him again. Nor did it matter regarding the $20. (One of the few times I seemed to actually have money on me.)

I remember sharing the cab with him and a couple other GIs and getting to San Francisco International and pacing the night away until my flight left the next morning. The following night in Omaha I came to realize it was all a mistake and I should have never left Vietnam. I was lonely, angry, made fun of and treated poorly for being a Vietnam Veteran. I was so overwhelmed over the next few days, teeth hurt from flying and the fillings, jet lag and everything had changed over the last year. My slang was a year old and brought many laughs, only adding to my hating to be back in the States. Nothing prepared me for what I was experiencing or going to experience.

My thoughts are my own exept for writing a few of them here and thinking about Vietnam and just how important my service was and is. It is burned into my being for all time. And my dreams have been full of being in the service and back in Vietnam these last few days. I pray for my fellow veterans and wonder and hope that when my times comes I will be reunited with them. As always, you are in my thoughts.

Veterans Day

Veterans Day is in two days. Some will work and others have a paid day off. Regardless, many will remember what the day is for and honor our Veterans in some way. Veterans Day is like every day for me as I remember and pray for Veterans daily.

For me the real difference is that as it gets closer to Veterans Day my memory is flooded more than ever with vivid memories and much more sadness for those who died. I find myself crying more and doing my best to conceal my feelings or thoughts from anyone around me - something I have done for 40 years. It is also a time I feel even more guilt that I lived and wanting to be with those who died. I wonder how God chose those who died and I get angry at Him. How could He have let that happen. But I also have faith and believe in God and and Heaven and know that these young men and women are there.

All I can say right now is that I remember being with you and praying for you and that I am sorry. My heart is filled with overwhelming sadness my brothers and I pray for you and your families even more on this Veterans Day.

Armored Personnel Carrier (APC)

It's been a really bad week and I have been feeling so sad and just flooded with memories. Maybe because Veterans day is fast approaching and I know most veterans are greatly affected by that day. Anyway, Thursday was one of those days when out of the blue I got hit with a flashback of an incident driving into work where an APC flipped over and that flashback / memory was extremely vivid. I don't know what triggered it and tears welled up in my eyes and the memory just kept getting more and more vivid.

Not too long after showing up for my nightly duty the call came in regarding wounded from an APC that flipped. If I remember correctly, it was an explosion that flipped it. It got really crazy fast. I don't remember much about the wounded coming in an several choppers except for two soldiers. I remember that there was some communication about one of them either having died or on the brink of dying. I decided to bring him into the ER from the chopper since we didn't really know. As we got to the entrance of the ER from the Helipad a Corpsman opened up the poncho he was wrapped in and got very angry. He stated he was dead and wanted to know why was he being brought in. I told him. He had us take him to the Morgue by taking him around by the Helipad rather than through the ER.

Once everything settled down in the ER and the wounded were processed the Corpsman (He was actually older than most of us.) came and got me and told me I was going with him to bodybag the two soldiers. I told him no. I had gotten a glimpse when the poncho was lifted up and knew I could not handle it. The Corpsman gave me an order and we went to the Morgue. When we got in the Morgue he gave me a pair of gloves to put on, the one and only time I wore rubber gloves. even though I came in contact with blood most every day. We prepared the bag and put it on a litter and then slowly began to cut off the jungle fatigues. I remember this young soldier being crushed from his neck to his pelvis and split open. The process was slow and one done with respect . something I believe was always done. Soon the clothing was removed and we moved him into the body bag. I will not go into any other detail due to how horrific it was based on his injuries. I still remember the very strong smell of old blood while preparing this soldier and this smell from many years ago also overwhelmed me as I was driving in to work.

I assisted with the other soldier and I believe the injury he had was a broken neck. The only real memory I have was having to remove this soldiers false teeth.

After all was said and done my E-6 showed up and ripped me a new one, one of the only times I remember being yelled at. He stated he had told me when I came on to duty that we would be getting in these casualties and I was to locate him and advise him they were on their way in and he'd be over. I believe this was at a time we were very short staffed due to an eye disease affecting a number of my fellow soldiers. I told him I don't remember him telling me this and I did the best I could. Noting was ever said about this again.

I will never forget these and the other young men that crossed my path. My biggest regret is that I do not remember their names. I want to find out more about them and to honor them whenever on the rare opportunity I get to to to the Moving Wall. Regardless, they are always in my mind and I think of them and pray for them and their families every day. You are not forgotten my brothers.

The Snake Bite

I was watching a program tonight and it centered around animal bites. It brought to mind one night at the 24th in Vietnam when the call came in. The Medivac was bringing in a soldier from the field with a snake bite. The chopper landed and we brought in the guy along with the dead snake. I remember the snake looking very odd, rather large and green and yellow. No one at the hospital knew what type of snake it was and the only thing they could do was admit this young man and watch for dangerous symptoms.

I know those of us on duty that night were really concerned. I can't imagine how he felt being bitten by a snake that no one knew what type it was nor could they really do anything. This young man survived but again, I cannot comprehend how he must have felt through the night, most likely thinking and expecting the worst.

This was the only instance of a snake bit I can remember and this night and soldier have never been forgotten by me.

Don't Ask - Don't Tell

It is time to end Don't Ask, Don't Tell and let all men and women who want to serve our Country serve regardless of sexual orientation. Don't Ask, Don't Tell dominates the news right now as well as our politicians. We have so many more important things that need to addressed in our Country. Let's get working on them. Obama said he was going to end it so just do it, keep your promise.

Gay and Lesbians have served in the Military since the beginning of the Military and they served our Country well. Some died for our freedoms. No, we never really heard about their sexual orientation but now, some are coming forward and want to be recognized and accepted for who they are as well as continue to serve our Country.

There is a book from Vietnam called "Dispatches" and the writer (Michael Herr) states something as to being at a fire base and it is very quiet except for the two Marines making love in the sleeping bag )if my memory serves right). He didn't say screwing, fucking, queer Marines. He said "Making Love".

I served this Country in Vietnam and yes, I know a few men who "Made Love" to another man. I've thought about it for many times since returning. My conclusion is that it was just that, Making Love. Were they gay? I don't know - and it doesn't matter. What matters is that there were two individuals in a war zone far from home, living in a horrible situation. Yet they found friendship, warmth, kindness and tenderness  for that brief moment.

Yesterday I asked a fellow Vietnam Veteran what he thought. He said he didn't care about it at all - the only thing he cared about was that whomever he fights with watches his back as he does theirs. Enough said.

And in closing I want to mention the recent suicides this Country is facing of young gay and lesbian women. The individuals are being bullied, taunted, chased, physically and mentally abused, etc. In the current situation they can't even look to the future as they have no protections at work and if they wanted to serve this Country - forget that. Try to put yourself in those young peoples shoes. Sexual Orientation should not be an issue nor should race, religion, etc. What really matters is the person and that he or she is respectful, treats others with respect and that those same courtesies are returned. We all need to take care of each other and do the right thing.

Snyder vs Phelp

Tomorrow the Supreme Court hears oral arguments regarding the protests of Military Funerals by the Westboro Baptist Church members. That church seeks nothing but publicity be it at a funeral of a Serviceman or Woman, a Catholic School, etc. Now some may say it is freedom of speech but I do not agree. These Servicemen and Women fought for our freedoms. Without those sacrifices, this church would not have the freedoms they so abuse. No private citizen should have to face the harassment, anger, lies, humiliation, etc. that this so-called church spews out at the funerals. Don't we deserve the freedom to say goodbye and bury out dead? I pray the Supreme Court agrees and rules in favor of Mr. Snyder.

Urgent Urology Chopper Call

One night a call came in as all the others did:

"Queen Tonic this is Wide Minnow" After our acknowledgement we got the description the the wounded. All that was said as far a I can remember is that it was called in as an urgent urology case. The chopper landed a short time later and we got the wounded soldier off the chopper and into the ER. I remember him having this very pale/ashen look to his face and his groin area covered in bandages. From what I remember he was either a door gunner or crew chief on a chopper and was shot in the penis and testicles. He was in surgery within a short period of time. After surgery we got word (as we did most of the time regarding surgeries and patient status) that he had lost a testicle and the bullet sliced his penis. The doc said that they believed he would come out ok and be able to have kids. Everone was so glad to hear that.

I have always been so amazed and in awe of the wonderful and dedicated doctors, nurses, corpmen, medical staff, etc. at the 24th. They truly worked miracles and saved so many lives. And once all was said and done and things calmed down you could see the emotional toll each sitauation took on us and how much we all cared.

The Escape

It was about 0600 and I had about an hour of duty left and things had quieted down. Suddenly I heard a horn honking and honking outside the ER/A&D Entrance. I finally went out and as I walked around the bunker at the entrance and I saw someone in one of our Ambulances accross the road where the Ambulances were parked. I walked accross the road and came up to the driver's door. Inside was a young man who began to yell orders to me, I'm General so and so and where is my driver at. He was going on and on. I then noticed he had on hospital pajamas and I saw he had a wristband on. I started to play the game calling him General and telling him we needed to go in and find the driver. Luckily he agreed.

Just as he got out of the Ambulance a chopper could be heard right overhead and it was coming in to land on the helipad with causalties not very far from where we were. He yelled my helicopter, my helicopter and began to run to the helipad. I took off after him. My immediate thought was that he was going to get killed by the chopper or it's blades. I knew and saw the damage a chopper's blades can do and I also knew the chopper pilot would not know what was going on - on the ground and might think we were just running out to get the wounded off.  Luckily I did catch him and was able to keep him away from the chopper. I somehow convinced him to come into the A&D/ER. Once inside I matched up his wristband with a number in the log book. I called the psych ward. I said "This is Mahoney in A&D, did you lose someone?" A relieved voice said yes, where is he and in a flash they were there to pick him up. After this was all over it really hit me as to what had happened and just what a terrible outcome this could have been.

After all these years I can still remember seeing this very young man sitting in the Ambulance honking that horn. I often wonder how he is doing and how his life turned out and pray for him as I do the others. I suppose my feelings and worrying about these young men and women may seem strange to most, but they have left an permanent image in my mind and impact in my being and I will never forget them.

A Combat Soldier

A number of weeks ago I did a post regarding the Westboro Chruch that protests military funerals and prays for the death of our soldiers and so much more. There were also protesters protesting them. And then along came a 62 year old Vietnam veteran who tried to mace the Westboro Church members but instead got about 18 of their protesters. Later it came out that not only was he a Vietnam Veteran who was a Marine but that he also received the Purple Heart. I believe there were 18 of those who were maced and it is pretty evenly split among those saying he either should not be charged or charged.

Around two weeks ago I jumped a little bit into a converation regarding this incident. The the main thought was that this church is just looking for publicity and the veteteran should not have done what he had done. I tried to state during this ongoing conversation that many factors come into play and that I felt at this point in the veterans life he must have felt overwhelmed with soldier deaths and the ongoing protests and lack of respect coming from this church and their members.

I didn't get too far with this as a person stated that the Patriot Guard was there and that they have Combat Vietnan Veterans and don't do this. First I was hurt as I am not a Combat Vietnam Veteran and took this as a negative comment and and secondly, angry at what I thought was the dismissal of my thoughts or at least this was my perception. At that time I excused myself and left.

Before saying anything else, I cannot state how wonderful the Patriot Guard and the services they provide at these funerals and to the families. And I imagine these families are overjoyed at what the Patriot Guard does. I am so thankful for what they do.

Being a Vietnam Veteran and knowing other Vietnam Veterans I can say that there are many, many Vietnam Veterans suffer quietly on a daily basis. Many of us have held everything in. We really didn't have or know of any resources that were available to us on return. And, honestly, there were few. I suspect if I ever spoke to a Vietnam Veteran Patriot Guard Rider we would both be in agreement on this. Also, to this day I hold everthing in except for these posts. I'm not sure why I started this but I guess I need to talk.

Vietnam was an unpopular war and as Vietnam Veterans I believe we got the brunt of that in many ways. And even though their is so much support for Iraq and Afganistan Soldiers and those returning, they will need a continuing "great" deal of support and understanding. The impact of war is not just limited to those in a Combat situation but to those in support organizations as well and I think that is really important for people to understand. I hope to address this in my next post.

And for the general population it is very important to never forget that the freedoms you have are because of the Armed Forces and those brave men and women who serve for your freedom, both in peacetime and a time of war. Please remember that and keep them in your thoughts and pray for them and their safety.

Gas Chamber in Basic Training

"Knocked Up" has been on TV a number of times recently. Isn't that why we have and pay for cable? To see the same shows over and over again? Anyway, in this show the lead character is shown smoking dope using a gas mask. It brought back memories of the Gas Chamber in Basic Training. For some idiotic reason I couldn't wait to do that. The more they talked about it the more excited I got. Stupid huh? Anyway, that day came. We had a great meal brought out to the field that day and right after eating that meal we were lining up to go in.

You know, growing up I had heard and saw on TV of how one takes many breaths filling up their lungs with oxygen and that allows one to hold their breath for a long time. Well as a kid I tried it and it worked. I was always the winner at the pool for those contests when you see who can stay underwater the longest. So, my plan was to do this at the Gas Chamber.  I didn't know what to expect and just thought I'd be choking from the gas or whatever. As I walked in I realized my mask wasn't sealed, no problem, I was trained to get that sealed and got that done. Soon we had to take off our masks and this damn gas burned my eyes and they were tearing up and it penetrated the skin on my face from the morning shave. This was not expected, but I held my breath. I was watching as everyone else was choking and gaging. We had to walk around the room and then head for the door. I was almost there, shit this is going to work. Then I hear "Drill Sergeant, Mahoney isn't breathing." from a guy in my platoon. That's all it took - as the Drill Sergeants made the target and made sure I had plenty of time in there and really got some good lung fulls of the tear gas or whatever that was. Once that was done I exited gagging, trying to catch my breath and soon throwing up. I looked down at that puke and thought, shit - that was a good lunch too. (I think it was good on purpose just with them knowing it would be thrown up.)

We had one more training session that day while under barbed wire with smoke pouring over us so you would not know when they popped open the gas and we had our masks off. When you started to experience the effects of the gas, you could then put your mask on.

Well, at the end of the day the guy who yelled out I wasn't breathing got some grief/ribbing from others in my platoon. But mostly it was just a group of young men laughing at what had happened that day and what we had experienced. But, beyond the laughing there was also the quiet conversations that was serious on whether or not we will experience a gas attack while on duty and just how serious an attack could be. It really made us think.

And shit, that was a good lunch too.

A Silent Visitor

I was searching last night for a soldier from Omaha who died in Vietnam about 5 months before I went into the service. He had been on my mind for the last few weeks. I could not remember his name although I worked with his mother at a restaurant. Since my brother worked at the same place and still sees some of those we worked with, I asked him. He was able to give me enough of the name so that I could find him on the Virtual Wall. I was able to read a little about him and his death. I'm not sure why I keep thinking of him recently. I guess it must be that Vietnam is always in my thoughts. In this case I wanted to know more about this young man, when he died and was buried. It may sound strange but I do not want those who died in Vietnam forgotten.

Anyway, during this time I felt that someone was in the den with me. I turned and thought I saw the door closing and it was not fully open as it had been. I called for my wife and asked if she was going to bed thinking she was outside the door in the hall. No response. So I walked out into the hall and she was not even upstairs. I called down to her and she said she had not been up there but heard me ask about going to bed and was a little confused on what I was asking/doing.

I decided it was time to hit the sack and as I do every night I lay in bed and pray and this night said some special prayers for this fallen brother. And I know it may sound very strange to most people but I wonder if it was him (his spirit) in the room with me knowing he had been in my mind and thoughts. This weekend I hope to go to the cemetery to see him, say some prayers and thank him for his service and giving his life for us and to tell him he is not forgotten.

Goodnight my brothers - I will always remember you.

An Act of Kindness

I often read or hear of "Acts of Kindness" towards our servicemen and their families. There have been a number of times when someone sends an E-mail regarding those "Acts of Kindness" when I'm at work in my cubicle. They bring quick tears to my eyes and I have to do all I can to actually try not to cry as I try to read the article and hope no one comes into my cube. It brings such overwhelming feelings and warmth to my heart to hear these wonderful things. I hope they continue and our citizens keep realizing the sacrifices our service men and women give to our country so we may have our freedoms.

In hearing of these stories, etc. I also think back regarding "Acts of Kindness" that me and my fellow Vietnam Veterans may have received. I would love to be able to say we too were met with those "Acts of Kindness" but know that is not the case. In thinking back, I can only remember one.

I arrived back in the states on Thanksgiving night and finally ended up at San Francisco International Airport around 11:00 p.m. My flight was scheduled to leave for Omaha at around 9:00 a.m. the following morning. I spent the entire time walking the terminal - back and forth. I would see other service men who just returned doing the same. Little conversation took place, just an acknowledging look as we passed. Only once did I speak with a returning GI when he asked if I was old enough to rent a car so we could leave the airport. I do not ever remember speaking with a civilian. And I was scared and lonely for those I left behind. My thoughts were more of them than seeing my family the next day.

The next morning I boarded the plane and as I was walking down the aisle of the plane I saw an older lady who I would be sitting next to. "Shit" I said to myself, she is going to bitch at me as I smoke on this flight I thought as I got closer to my seat. When I got there I sat down and soon the plane took off. I don't' think the wheels were off the ground when she lit up. Relief. I lit up and took that long needed drag of my cigarette. After we reached our flying altitude the "Stewardess" started to serve lunch and we just had ours served. The older lady next to me spoke for the first time and asked me where I was going and I told her home. She asked where I had been and I said Vietnam. She said something to the effect of "Welcome Home" and then cut her meal in half and put it in my plate on the tray. She said that I really needed this meal more than she did.

You know, I don't' think she said much of anything else nor did I. But I will never forget that "Act of Kindness". To most this may seem a small and somewhat insignificant. I thought of it as nice and was actually embarrassed by it at the time. But as time went by I came to realize to me this is a major "Act of Kindness" from a complete stranger and probably the only one I ever received on returning to the World. I will always remember her and that day.

Maced Protesters by Vietnam Veteran

It appears to be common place here in Omaha for members of the Westboro Church to just protest away. They seem to just increase the protests and they are at our Catholic Churches, Catholic Girls school and worst of all at the funerals of our servicemen who have lost their lives defending this Country. We recently lost four veterans in a highway motorcycle accident and they state it was something like God doing that because Sarpy County NE had charges against one of their members. Four servicemen died in Afghanistan and the Westboro Church website states they pray for 10,000 more. And of course there are the plea deals where Sarpy County paid them 17,000 for violating their rights or something like that and dropping charges so they drop charges against Sarpy County and let's not forget the fear the Judges have and not wanting to try them due to lawsuits they will press.

This Saturday this so-called church again protested a service member who died Afghanistan during his funeral. And during the protest a 62 year old Vietnam Veteran drove by spraying industrial Mace. The church members who filmed this stated none of them were sprayed.

Unfortunately there appears to be 18 people who were sprayed and at least one was a police officer. From what the news is saying he is facing 18 misdemeanors.

What is wrong with this Country? We have the Constitution and rights as Citizens, that is unless you are a law-abiding citizen and even worse if you are a veteran or our service men and women. In this case, many of this churches members (most are family) are attorneys. But, the ACLU is on their bandwagon and fights and supports them. God forbid anyone violate their rights.

What about the right of free speech to express ones love for their child that they loved and nurtured. A child who grew up to become a wonderful son, daughter, uncle, aunt, brother, sister, etc.? A child who died fighting for the very freedoms that their families cannot have, especially in the funeral and burial of their child?

On October 6th the Supreme Court will hear oral arguments on the lawsuit regarding Corporal Snyder. I pray and ask every one to pray that The Supreme Court agree that these loving, caring and wonderful families have rights to mourn their loved ones who fought and died for your freedoms.

I can't say anything else - I just find this so emotional and I have such a hard time thinking and can't get it off my mind. I pray all the time and want to do something to stop this madness. I just can't say anymore right now and feel so helpless.

Can you help?

I was at the local Wal Mart with my Grandson tonight and I heard "Can you help?". I looked around and here were two men trying to work the blood pressure machine. I was asked "Can you help?" again. I knew immediately they were Vietnamese. Not by the look but the tone of the voice and how the voice sounded. I helped and showed how the machine worked. Although his English was fair I understood him and his asking how to know if the blood pressure was normal or not and I showed him and heard him tell the other man using the machine what I had just said. And then I was positive that they were Vietnamese by the language.

I asked them where they were from and they said Vietnam. I told them I had been there and where. One of the men was from the Saigon Area and was 55. The other one was from Cam Rahn Bay / Da Nang. I told them were I was stationed. The man from Saigon stated he was on the highway each day by where I was stationed. We talked some and I found out that they have been in the states since 1991 and they wanted to know how long I had been in service, what I did after and what I did now. We spoke for about five minutes and I then said goodbye and left.

I came home and told my wife what happened and she said "Why'd you talk to them?". You know whats odd? My wife and I never speak of the war or my service. Early in our relationship she said something about the war and that was it as far as I was concerned and we have never really spoke about it again. She has purchased some military items for me as gifts but we never speak of the service nor would we ever be able to. A two weeks ago I really needed to someone about it and wondered if I could with her. She had had surgery and was sleeping downstairs as she could not walk up them. I have been having a bad time and have been so emotional and flooded with memories. Anyway, I really felt a presense during a few nights and woke up due to a noise, feelings, etc. I believe, and have always believed, that my brothers who passed while I was at the 24th have been present from time to time late at night when it is dark and quiet. I guess it reminds me of being alone in the morgue taking care of them. Once I realize they are present, they are gone but I find it comforting. I wanted to tell her of this and was trying to attempt to say something but knew it would be a mistake.

So, I find it odd that I really have no one here that I feel I can speak to regarding my service or really have any friendships. Yet, here I am with two Vietnamese men who I do not know briefly speaking of Vietnam and it seems to bring some comfort to me tonight. Is it because we both had memories of a war? That there was some type of common ground? Was it a gift from God knowing I needed a type of comfort?

I know this probably sounds crazy but to me it makes sense. And how I miss my brothers from Vietnam, even those that crossed my path that I did not know. Please know that I think of you each day and you are in my prayers.

Westboro Baptist Church

One of the members of the Wesboro Baptist Church had court here in Omaha today for wearing a flag skirt that was dragging on the ground and allowing her 10 year old son to stand on the flag. This is against the Nebraska flag mutilation law. The individual is Shirley Phelps-Roper. Her attorney, Margie Phelps, is appealing to the 8th U S Circuit of Appeals. She also has to stand trial in August here in NE on charges of violating the flag law, disturbing the peace, contributing to the delinquency of a minor and negligent child abuse stemming from the process or something to that effect.

For those of you who don't know, this church protests at funeral services for our the brave men and women who have lost their lives for this Country. They only know how to spread hatred, lies and harass the dead serviceman or women's family and funeral service calling it freedom of religion. If it were not for our brave service men and women who have lost their lives as well as all us who have served in the service and the sacrifices of our families this so-called church and their members would not even exist.

I believe a private civil lawsuit against this church will soon be before the U S Supreme Court brought on by the family of Lance Corporal Matthew Snyder. I have attached a link to their website. At the present time I believe the only legal way to stop this madness is for the Supreme Court to rule against this church and confirm the millions of dollars in damages awarded Corporal Snyder's family by a lower court. Once this is done, you will then see an onslaught of lawsuits and hopefully this church and all of its members will be crushed financially.

Yes, we have "Freedom of Speech" in this Country, but think of the interpretation this church uses. They believe this gives them the right to protest, harass, inflict pain and suffering, lies and hatred. Think for a minute if all citizens of this Country took "Freedom of Speech" to this level. This Country would be in chaos - there would be no sexual harassment, freedom of religion and racism would run rampant. Anyone could say, do, harass, lie, terrorize stating it is their freedom of speech. Is this really the "Freedom of Speech" our founding fathers imagined?

I will never ever be able to express the horror, sorrow, pain and suffering I saw while in Vietnam at the 24th Evac. Only now am I barely beginning to realize just what I had been through and experienced and I have felt so overwhelmed this last couple years and there are many days I'm ready to just say, I have had enough and just don't feel I can go on any longer. And now to hear, read and see what this church is doing in incomprehensible.

It is time to take back this country and I pray the Supreme Court makes the correct decision so the healing can begin.

Easter in Vietnam - 1971

Easter in Vietnam was like any other day. The causalities continued to come in and we continued to do our jobs. I guess the only difference was that I received a large Easter package with candies and stuffed Rabbits.

There was a guy, Albert Wahl, who I had met in the early days in either Basic or Advanced Training. We didn’t really know each other very well but we did fly in the same plane from Chicago to Omaha after advanced training and from Omaha to San Francisco after our leave as we began our journey to Vietnam. Anyway, my mom met his family at the airport after we got on the plane to San Francisco. His was a very large family with about 10-12 kids and mine had 8. They lived in a small town, about 40 minutes from Omaha in Greenwood, NE. So, at Easter and Halloween the families got together and did Easter Baskets, Halloween trick or treat bags, etc. and sent them to us. (He was stationed elsewhere in Vietnam.) I also had worked for a restaurant in Omaha and they also sent large food packages especially at the holidays. Packages and mail were taken to our worksite as was the practice and there always seemed to be anticipation of what I was now receiving by my fellow GI’s.

At Easter I received the Easter package that resulted in lot’s of laughs, sharing of candy and Easter stories. Soon the stuffed bunnies were treated for head injuries and had their heads wrapped in gauze or had other injuries that were treated much the same way. They were then left in our small area outside the ER for any patient or staff to see as well as the candy to be shared by staff and patients. About a week later the stuffed bunnies and other stuffed animals had healed, bandages were removed and they headed off with the nurses as they went to a nearby orphanage to treat sick children where they would remain.I have had many, many Easters in my life but none that brings such fond memories.

I cannot put into words what this one Easter meant to me or how much it touched my heart and my being. I guess if there was every truly a Happy Easter for me, this was the one.

The Serviceman's Medal

I left Omaha the day after Christmas, 1970, for California and then Vietnam. My family could not really give me any presents but I did get a notebook and my sister gave me a Servicemans Medal. It is in a somewhat clover shape with the rounded top tip of it being red stating land, rounded rounded side tips white stating sea and air and the bottom rounded tip was blue. I always wore this cross along with my dog tags in Vietnam.

One night I had to bag a body in the morgue. The morgue was basically a somewhat rectangle building with wood racks up the sides and back. Those racks held the litters with the bagged bodies. All I seem to remember of that night is being in the morgue with a litter on the floor with a bag that was open with a dead GI. I carefully cut off his fatigues. The last remaining article was his t-shirt. When it cut it off I saw the Serviceman's medal on him. I was shocked at first and then angry. How could God do this. Let a young man die who was wearing the very medal that was to protect him. I was just dumbfounded. I remember standing up looking at this young man. I had not taken the medal off yet and he was just laying there in this bag, no wounds, just looking like he was asleep with the medal around his neck. I said some prayers and then took off his medal and put it with his other belongings and then tagged his toe, zipped up the bag and then tagged it.

The next morning I noticed that my medal was gone when I was getting ready to hit the sack. (At least in my mind it was the next morning but it was very soon after I took care of this GI.). I still had on my chain but no medal. I know it sounds crazy but I always felt God had given him my medal. And even now it is hard for me to think otherwise.

I have replaced that medal but have been afraid to wear it for fear that I would lose it. I have been wearing it for sometime but this morning I immediately noticed it was off my neck but I had the chain on. As I got out of bed I saw the medal lying there. Although I often think of this young man, this brought those memories back again unexpectedly and I again saw this young man laying there with the medal, asleep and with God.

The Cockroach Takes a Bite

Twice in the last few months I have helped people move from apartments where the buildings had cockroaches. So, I'm looking at them and thinking first of all they seemed tiny compared to those I saw in Vietnam. The second thing I fought about was having some flesh eaten by one of these.

It was a rare night when I was not on duty and was in my bunk sleeping. It was a restless sleep and I remember my right hand was hurting a little where I had a wart just under my little finger on the palm of my hand. I was thinking/dreaming that gee, I'd better get it cut off. Maybe there was something going on there. My hand hurt more and more and I was becoming more awake. Then I felt it. Something moved. I literally fell out of my bunk and got a light on. It was a cockroach and it had eaten off the wart on my hand. I now had a small hole that went down a under the palm of my hand past where the wart was and it was bleeding some. Talk about "Oh Shit, how did that happen". Well, I found out later that it can and did for me. Anyway, I killed the cockroach and poured alcohol in the wound and when it grew back I had it cut off in the E.R. It had to be cut off two different times but that did the trick.

So, there you go. I don't think I have ever really told this story to my family or anyone else except the ER and my immediate fellow GI's, but I look back at it with a BIG smile. After all, how many people can say they were bit by a cockroach?

Destiny or Stupidity?

I was drafted the first year they actually pulled your number by birth date. Mine came up as a 50-50 chance of getting drafted. Well, I was called up in the March/April time frame. Before I left for Basic Training everyone told me, don't sign up for additional time. They will ask you to, but don't do it. Well, that first week of orientation, I did sign up for additional time just before we actually got into actually Basic Training. Why? I was uneducated and had worked since I was a sophomore. Pretty much 40 weeks as well as school. I don't remember that education was important in my family. Family was big, we were poor and the money was needed. I thought that by signing up for that extra year I would be able to get a school and learn a trade and get an education. Make something out of myself. So I signed up for Communications Center Specialist.

Close to graduation from Basic Training I get called in. They want to know if I want to continue to stay at Ft. Lewis for pretty much the remainder of my time. Well, apparently they were not aware that I signed up for the extra year and school. Once I told them that, poof, that offer was gone. So off to Ft. Gordon and just finishing training, most of my fellow GI's got Germany, Italy and Belgium Civilian Status. I waited for 3 weeks or so and got Vietnam.

So the question is "Was this my Destiny?" As I said in a early post, I always knew I would go to war - even at a very young age and had actually talked about that happening. Now it was coming true. I guess one could say it was stupidity for signing up for another year but I believe it was my Destiny, a plan for my life from a Higher Being. As I do more posts I'll explain this a little more and give my reasoning on why I believe it was my Destiny and my Destiny played hand and hand with the Destiny of my fellow Brothers.

Well, time to get some Zzzzzzzzzzzzs. It's late and quiet and the night brings me back to basic training. One night it seemed to be especially quiet and I was sitting outside with a fellow Brother from Maine as Taps was being played. We had a very quiet conversation regarding the night and Taps. Somehow I knew right at that time that although I had no knowledge or meaning of Taps that it would become one of the emotional and gut wrenching things I could ever imagine. But it can also bring peace and comfort as well.

So as I fall asleep tonight, my Brothers will be in my thoughts and prayers as they always are. And although no one is outside playing Taps I still hear it and hear the words as I fall to sleep.

Day is Done,

Gone the Sun,

From the Hills,

From the Lake,

From the Skies,

All is Well,

Safely Rest,

God is Nigh.

My Destiny

Is one's Destiny defined at the time of conception. Is whatever going to happen in our life going to happen regardless and we have no control over it? Are the decisions we make predetermined as part of our Destiny? Or do we have the ability to really change our Destiny based on the decisions we made/make in our lives. I personally believed My Destiny was out of my control and just accepted what happened in my life as a part of my Destiny.

My earliest memory was in kindergarten. I remember several things. My name tag, the room, me and a person in my class banging on a piano. However, the biggest memory I had was not being able to put my mat up in the cubby once, which was too high in this large closet. I tried and tried but could not do it. Being very shy I never asked for help and continued to get the mat in the cubby. Eventually the teacher came and and put it up for me. I told my parents about it as I missed the graham crackers and milk. I remember that my mom spoke to my teacher about this and was angry. I was so ashamed and felt the teacher would no longer like me and that it was my fault.

Today I continue handle many things like this. I'm still what I consider shy, afraid to ask for help and always seem to put the blame on myself. I don't correct people if I am called the wrong name, rarely stand up for myself, etc. I don't want to hurt other peoples feelings but seem to be fair game for anyone else. And sometimes I know I'm going to screw up before it happens and know what will be coming next, "poor Mickey".

As I grew up I always heard, Poor Mickey, everything happens to him. He never has any luck. Gee, I feel sorry for Mickey. This really made me accept the fact that for some reason I was doomed no matter what I did. Bad luck would always follow me. And if there was any good, I rarely ever heard it.

When I think back I see many decisions I made that I knew was wrong before or at the time I made them. Was that part of my Destiny or did I really have the opportunity to impact that event. I'm not sure. So much is going on in my life right now and I'm really trying to look at each new event and see if I can change the outcome to something more suitable and not fall into the "Poor Mickey" syndrome.

Why is this important? I guess because I'm looking at my lifetime experiences more now than I have ever done because of these posts. It really makes we wonder if the outcome could have been different had my decision been different. And even though some of the outcomes could have been different, the experience gained may have helped me at a later time based on that experience.

Well, so much for questions regarding my Destiny. All this wondering has made me tired so off to bed for some Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz's. Now, that is a good decision and I'm making it.

Burn Patients

I was channel surfing and hit a channel showing a doctor treating burns of a crying child in Haiti. I watched for maybe 5 seconds and changed the channel. I felt very ill and nauseous after seeing this. I wondered why such vivid pictures must be show around the world. Was there a benefit to doing this? Will donations rise because of what we see? Is this for ratings or is it because this is what people around the world want to see suffering? Is this really news that we want to see? I find it so confusing and my emotions get so screwed up.

In March, 1971, the 24th took over as the Burn Center from the 93rd Evac which was closing. This brought in a whole new kind of casualty and something that I know I was not prepared for:

• Being on the chopper pad waiting to pull a burned pilot from and incoming chopper. He had been picked up by this small Loch Helicopter whose pilot was flying wildly as he tried to land. We thought we would be killed by this chopper as it made a wild landing literally sliding across the helipad towards us. The burned pilot jumped out of the door screaming with his arms up high in the air. He was burned on the upper body and had not shirt on. We didn't even attempt to get him on a litter, just ran with him into the ER.
• The experience of getting burned patients off the the choppers and into the ER.
• A burn patient in pre-op who had 2nd and 3rd degree burns who was speaking to us who died early in the morning with a number of us at his side.
• An unconscious soldier in pre-op who will never be operated on due to his poor condition who legs were horribly burned and ashen.
• The smell and look of burned flesh.
• Going into the burn ward each night to retrieve their 24 hour report seeing the patients having their dead and burned skin removed or being turned on the Stryker Frames.
• The high risk of infection.
• The horrible pain and suffering these patients experienced.

Maybe the confusion I feel is that I know what I saw on TV but have had the real experience of being there, participating and have the knowledge of what the patient and those who provide the care are actually going through. It leaves an imprint on your being that you will carry though your life and although it may be deeply hidden, it will rise at the least unexpected moment and feel as if it is happening before your eyes.

I don't know if one can say which type of wound is worse be it a traumatic amputation, head wound, burn, etc. but to me personally I always felt it was the burn patient. However, they are all horrific and they are always in my prayers.

Honesty and Telling the Truth

Being a good Catholic Boy and going to a Catholic Grade School I had to go to Confession once a week. I was really a quiet and shy kid and scared to death of the Priest. Fr. Morrin. Every week about the same time it was me trying my hardest to think of sins to confess. And, of course, he wanted to know how many times each sin was committed. So, each week I would “lie” in confession and make up sins because I didn’t want him mad at me. That must have worked because I can’t remember a time when I was yelled at in Confession after I began doing that.
When I did have the chance to go to church in Vietnam they did a general confession. One that they sort of announced and one just confessed their sins between themselves and God. I think that was the first time that I was really honest and truly confessed my sins. From that point on I always confessed my sins in church in that manner except for on one occasion.

I was living in Denver with my family and it was around November. My wife wanted all of us to go to confession so we stood in line for “Reconciliation” as it was now called. I remember that tears started running down my cheeks. I was a mess about Vietnam and this seemed to contribute to it. (It was an Anniversary date for something regarding Vietnam but at the time I did not have any understanding what that meant and the impact.) The longer we waited in line the more of a mess I became. Finally it was my turn to sit there, no longer hidden from the priest as in the confessional. I tried to speak to the priest; I wanted help and was so lost, afraid and sad. I tried to explain thinking that he would be able to help and take all this hurt away. After a couple minutes I realized that he would be unable to help me and soon my time was ended. I don’t fault the priest; it was just that I believed he could just immediately take all this hurt away from me which I now know was unrealistic.

Why do I write of this? I think it is because I started this site knowing that I’d be honest and truthful of what I am, who I am and what I have experienced. I am troubled at how truthful I should be. And if I am truthful what impact will it have to someone who knows me or someone who may view this site. Can they handle things I write about be it devastation of war or personal things about myself. And how will I handle it if it makes me feel more of an outcast than I have felt most of my life, especially since returning from Vietnam? What if that honesty makes a person who knows me or doesn’t know me think the worst of me or now dislike me?

So as I move forward I may keep some details I write about at a higher level based on what I think people who may read this can handle. And if people think the worst of me so be it. I'm just beginning to believe I’m am ok person.

40 Years Ago Today

40 years ago today I would have been in Nam for 7 days. I had landed on December 31st. I remember having to brush our teeth with unpotable water that we were not to drink but did take some sips - it was hot compared to Nebraska's winter. That day we in processed and ate at the mess hall called "Alice's Restaurant". That night all hell broke loose and a guy in the bunk above me fell out and ended up with a bloody nose. We didn't know what to do but then some how one figured out it was just the GI's shooting off some rounds celebrating the new year.

The following day I was assigned to the 24th Evac, a semi mobile 400 bed hospital. I showed up and the Top Sergeant wanted to know what the hell I was doing there. They didn't need a Communications Center Specialist. I was sent off to a hooch at an old NVA POW compound on the hospital grounds where I would spend time until a regular hootch would open up. There I met a new of the new and newer guys and Tom, who would become my best friend and who was an OR Tech. A night or two later I was taken out by the guys to drink and could not keep up with the beer I was being handed over and over again. They had to drag me back to the compound. Around 0200 hours I had to take a piss so bad and could not walk. I remember literally dragging myself and crawling outside in my jungle fatigues and taking a piss while laying on my side with the overhead spotlights lighting the compound and looking up at the fencing and barbed wire. What a sight that must have been. Around the 7th of January I was called into the Top Sergeant's office and told they had an assignment for me at A&D and that I'd be reporting in the a.m.

I knew nothing of what A&D stood for or what I was going to be doing. I was just glad to know that I was now going to be put to work. But, never in my life did I expect what was to come next.

GI With Leukemia in Vietnam

A week or so ago I was channel surfing. Something I do very often as I am finding TV and the regular programming making me very nervous. While surfing I came across MASH on TVLand. I noticed right away the actor was Patrick Swayze and told my wife to check out how young he was. She was in another room and just took a look and went back to her program. I have never really watched MASH before but seemed to be drawn to this episode. There was conversation that the Swayze character wanted to donate blood to his unconscious friend but that he had an arm wound that would not heal. I knew right then and there it was leukemia which Trapper and Hawkeye confirmed.

When in Nam there were a number of GI's coming in from the field to get circumcised. It was hard to keep clean in the field. One young man came in and had it done and after healing, etc. went back to his unit. No long after that he came back in via Chopper one night to the 24th with an urgent urology issue. I remember seeing his penis in the ER during treatment. It was very enlarged, swollen, red and not healed. The Doc's knew something was wrong. He was later diagnosed with Leukemia and he was airlifted out to Japan.

I have always remembered that young man. He was so young and looked like a teenage (which he was, like the majority of us). And such a great personality. I have wonder what ever happened to him. At the end of MASH it was pretty clear that the Swayze character would return to the states and fight a battle that he would lose. I pray that was not the case for that GI in Vietnam but fear that was what might have happened.

I have said some extra prayers for him and his family this last week and truly believe that if he did pass he is in heaven with his other Nam brothers.