A Remebrance and An Explanation

I can not say anything more impressive than what My Dad posted on his Myspace Blog . You will now see one of the reasons why I admire the man that I am so proud to call my Dad!

A Remembrance and an Explanation Category: Life

Forty years ago this month, an 18 year old boy landed at the airport at Bien Hoa, Republic of Vietnam. He was filled with enthusiasm, the boldness of youth, and the stylized, glorified vision of war as presented by Hollywood. Two years later, a person with the same identity boarded a Boeing 727 at Cam Rahn Bay, Republic of Vietnam for the last time. He turned at the top of the stairs for one last look at the country he had learned to both love and hate. A country of paradox. On one hand, a beautiful country of lush green jungles filled with exotic animals and birds and beautiful flowers and a land of wonderful, gentle, loving people. On the other hand, a country torn by strife where destruction lurked around every corner in innumerable forms and fashions. A country where Death ruled supreme and the Reaper's blade dripped blood.

He enters the plane and finds a seat, surrounded by so many others like him. Gone is the boy, replaced by an old man aged far beyond the 20 years shown on his ID card. The once bright, wide eyes now hold a deep haunted look, forever dulled by the scenes of death and destruction that have passed before them. Never again will the world look the same to those eyes. Eyes that have seen the look of surprise on the face of a young Vietnamese that the man has just shot when he realizes that his life has been cut short, over before he can live it. Eyes that have seen that same look over and over on the face of enemies and far too many friends. Eyes that have looked on the anguished faces of people who have lost everything to the ravages of war and seen the deaths of innocents whose only fault was to be in Death's way when he cut his wide swath.

The man's hearing has become dulled by the sound of bullets and bombs, by the screams of the wounded as they begged for help, by the moans and cries of the dying when they feel Death's icy grip and know their time is over. Dulled too by the whispered last request of so many comrades to please tell their families that they loved them and were thinking of them at the end.

The man's feelings are dulled as well. Dulled by the searing pain of hot metal tearing into human flesh, a pain indescribable and known only to those that have felt it. Dulled by the feeling of hot blood from and enemy gushing over his hand holding the knife he used. Hands forever stained with the blood of friends held close and tight trying to stave off the inevitable. His sense of smell has forever been altered. Altered by the smell of cordite and napalm, by the smell od blood soaking into the groung, the smells of decomposition and burning flesh. Smells forever remembered because forgetting them is impossible.

man's mouth is filled with the taste of death. Don't think Death has a taste? Ask someone who has been to war and they will tell you it has a very real and very distinctive taste. All these things have changed the boy who landed that first time into the old man that boarded that last plane. Many times in the past have I gone looking for that 18 year old boy. Looking for his enthusiasm and bright outlook on life and for the future only to find that he has become lost forever and has passed into oblivion.

So, to all of you, if I appear moody, reclusive and a bit standoffish these days, it's because I'm in mourning. I mourn the loss of that innocent boy. A boy whose passing was only noted and marked by me for I alone knew he was gone. So, bear with me for a time please. The mourning will pass as it has so many times in the past and I will return to being the crusty old asshole you have all come to love, or hate as the case may be.

Although I will always regret the loss of the boy, I do not regret the man I have become. I have accepted that death is inevitable and comes to all of us, but I will always fight Death to the bitter end and cheat him whenever possible. I have seen far too much death in my time to let that Bastard win without a fight.