March 29 is Vietnam day.
For the last few years i have posted this date with some added stuff and then had a short walk around the block in the town I live in with some others.
However. I came home in October of 1970 at the age of 22. It has now been 55 years, and I am now 78.
Been a long, long time and not sure why I posted this after all these years. It is time to move on.
I was in during Nixons time in the white house. He was bringing troops home. I did apply for a two month drop to come home and i was granted that. No one knew I was coming home. I walk into the kitchen of the house I grew up in. My mother was there. Shortly dad came in, shook my hand for maybe the second and last time and they were happy I was home. It was a good surprise for them.
Saturday came, put my field jacket on and went to the local bar. Cars were park outside. When I went in there were about 12-14 people, my age, that i knew and they knew me playing a game with cards at one table. Made eye contact for a few seconds, and then they went back to playing cards. Nothing said and I thought maybe hello. Been gone 22 months.
At the bar there was a guy sleeping, so i went and sat by him, paid for a beer. He was also in Nam and came home about two months before me. I knew him and he knew me. About the second or third beer he woke up, stare at me and then tore my e-5 strips off my left arm and threw on the floor. What the hell. As i bent down to pick up he tore the strips off my right arm. Pick both of them up. He looks at me and said, "DB forget it, nobody cares". He knew why i wore that jacket that evening. I assume his welcome home was not as he thought it would be either. I drank a few more beers. Consider going over to the table and introduce myself. But instead, I got another beer, paid for it and went out to the car. Drove home.
Okay, i did my thing, as many did before me and after me, nothing or anything special, did what i was trained to do. After that day, I thought very little of my time over there. I now needed to find a mate, a job and raise a family. I had my whole future to look forward to. It was all behind me.
Then the gulf wars started. I was in Brainard with two friends watching TV and drinking old mill. About 6 desert storm troops came wearing their desert storm uniforms in an airport. All the people in the airport started clapping. The soldiers all got big smiles on their face and the words were thanks for your service. I knew the difference from my time serving and the current time.
By keeping it alive each year I was trying to promote the time we serve there. Maybe jealous but we did not lose that conflict; this country lost it. What could one expect from a bunch of potheads. Not enough of us drinking old mill to win. It was steel, rusty cans i believe Black Label, but name was rusted off. Needed a church key to open.
The VA needed some stuff from me a few years ago and I had a Veteran Service Officer help me. He then asked me to write down my time overseas for a project he was working on. I finally got that done, about 7 pages on the computer. Maybe, later I can mention a couple of those memories I experienced. However, I am proud of that time, and glad I went and any issues I had, have been taken care of a long time ago. It is all good and people wish me a thankful for my services. Welcome home would be better. db
For the last few years i have posted this date with some added stuff and then had a short walk around the block in the town I live in with some others.
However. I came home in October of 1970 at the age of 22. It has now been 55 years, and I am now 78.
Been a long, long time and not sure why I posted this after all these years. It is time to move on.
I was in during Nixons time in the white house. He was bringing troops home. I did apply for a two month drop to come home and i was granted that. No one knew I was coming home. I walk into the kitchen of the house I grew up in. My mother was there. Shortly dad came in, shook my hand for maybe the second and last time and they were happy I was home. It was a good surprise for them.
Saturday came, put my field jacket on and went to the local bar. Cars were park outside. When I went in there were about 12-14 people, my age, that i knew and they knew me playing a game with cards at one table. Made eye contact for a few seconds, and then they went back to playing cards. Nothing said and I thought maybe hello. Been gone 22 months.
At the bar there was a guy sleeping, so i went and sat by him, paid for a beer. He was also in Nam and came home about two months before me. I knew him and he knew me. About the second or third beer he woke up, stare at me and then tore my e-5 strips off my left arm and threw on the floor. What the hell. As i bent down to pick up he tore the strips off my right arm. Pick both of them up. He looks at me and said, "DB forget it, nobody cares". He knew why i wore that jacket that evening. I assume his welcome home was not as he thought it would be either. I drank a few more beers. Consider going over to the table and introduce myself. But instead, I got another beer, paid for it and went out to the car. Drove home.
Okay, i did my thing, as many did before me and after me, nothing or anything special, did what i was trained to do. After that day, I thought very little of my time over there. I now needed to find a mate, a job and raise a family. I had my whole future to look forward to. It was all behind me.
Then the gulf wars started. I was in Brainard with two friends watching TV and drinking old mill. About 6 desert storm troops came wearing their desert storm uniforms in an airport. All the people in the airport started clapping. The soldiers all got big smiles on their face and the words were thanks for your service. I knew the difference from my time serving and the current time.
By keeping it alive each year I was trying to promote the time we serve there. Maybe jealous but we did not lose that conflict; this country lost it. What could one expect from a bunch of potheads. Not enough of us drinking old mill to win. It was steel, rusty cans i believe Black Label, but name was rusted off. Needed a church key to open.
The VA needed some stuff from me a few years ago and I had a Veteran Service Officer help me. He then asked me to write down my time overseas for a project he was working on. I finally got that done, about 7 pages on the computer. Maybe, later I can mention a couple of those memories I experienced. However, I am proud of that time, and glad I went and any issues I had, have been taken care of a long time ago. It is all good and people wish me a thankful for my services. Welcome home would be better. db
