Sunday, November 20, 2011

Giving Thanks

Have awakened early this Sunday morning for some reason.  It could very well be because I watched two hours back to back of VIETNAM IN HD before going to bed. I knew I should not have but, well, I did.  Earlier this week, for some reason, I recorded and later watched SAVING PRIVATE RYAN which I said I would never do again when I first saw in several years ago.  Alicia, my bride, went to bed early with the comment, "you know you should not be filling your mind with that junk for if you fill your mind with it you always dream about it!"  Well, as usual, she was right.

The entire night my mind was ablaze on Hill 937 in the A Shau Valley in 1969. No, I was not there but had many friends that some of which did not return. I vaguely remember Hamburger Hill but it was a distant noise to my 1969 mind so who cares, right?  The night after watching SAVING PRIVATE RYAN, I awoke about 0230 with my mind bursting with gratitude for people that were my age when I was a little boy like my father, uncles, a great friend Clarence Blasier who fought at the Battle of the Bulge, Kerwin Burgess who limped his entire life with a bullet wound at Normandy in his knee and on and on.  Why all this and especially this morning?  I have no clue other than that is how God has wired me.

There is this nagging, deeply rooted question or actually wish that has been inside me most of my adult life and simply stated, I wanted to and should have gone to Vietnam.  Yes, I served my country and was proud of that uniform, still am, but the training was never put to the ultimate test and as the years have flowed too swiftly that recurring reality still haunts me at times.  Alicia, my bride, has told me many times, not too nicely at times, that that is crazy, that knowing me, I would have been killed because I would have been the first one attacking a position, trying to help others, etc, but the fact remains that I will go to my grave feeling I did not do my part in not having been an operational element of my generation's war.

Having served seventeen years in the Army National Guard and served proudly, I was honored to command two tank companies and an armored cavalry troop.  In each command I had Vietnam veterans and oft I would feel this strange sense of emptiness inside as they would render me the hand salute, crisply refer to me as Yes Sir and No Sir and work harder than the others to learn the lessons and fully execute their training in action when called upon.  My admiration for each soared with each encounter trying to grasp and absorb how proud I was of each one.

As more and more of my student population are returning Iraq and Afghanistan veterans, many scarred in an array of ways physically and emotionally, those same feelings of having missed my war lurk just under the surface all the time.  When they refer to me as Yes Sir and No Sir,  I am simply humbled by what they have experienced and I have not but to this moment yearn to have experienced and yes, led, in Vietnam.

I guess for some of you reading this it sound sick and twisted by I feel, at times, almost tortured by the void in my life.  I did not have to go so why am I concerned about it now?  The short answer is, I have no answer to that but with each movie based on facts, with each interface with a true combat seasoned veteran, with each Fourth of July, with each hand salute when I see an American flag with each time I teach my grand kids how to come to attention and render the hand salute and cut it away sharply, there is this shadow that comes over me.

Those that know me would never have a clue of any of this but I guess, in this early morning and early awakening, I felt putting my thoughts to words was, perhaps, therapeutic.  I lost so many friends in Vietnam and some that came back are no doubt living with the demons to this day.  When I lock into the combat scenes in movies and documentaries, my mind is transcends to the smell of cordite, the zing of bullets, the glistening of tracer rounds in the night, the unmistakable sound of a Claymore doing its damage, the thud of incoming mortar, that eight second delay of a grenade before explosion, the smells, the sounds .... yes, at nearly sixty-four years old I wish I had experienced it live fire but it is highly likely I would not be sitting here in my home putting these deep thoughts to a computer screen but still real, deep and yearning. Crazy?  Probably!

My brother-in-law and my sister and their daughter will be visiting us from Alabama in a few days. He and I have never really discussed his valorous experience in Vietnam that made its way to the pages of LIFE magazine. Perhaps this will be the time in our history to have that open discussion finally!  So to your soldiers, Marines, sailors, airmen serving today,  please know how much and how deeply I love you for what you have given this country can never repay.  I guess that is why when I see the videos of the Occupy Whatevers, being nice here, I get so emotionally angered for they do not represent me or the fabric of this great nation but, for the most part, Occupy the 20% of society that feel the world owes them something!  The world owes them nothing.  If they want a job, contact your local recruiter; they can help you!

I will close by being glad I have put these words from my heart to  this screen. Most of my students' fathers served in Vietnam and I can tell many of them are, well, scarred in so many ways in listening to their off spring tell of a war they never knew and could really care less about. It was my war. I lost friends there. I should have gone. I did not shirk my responsiblity to serve and served well I believe.

I should have gone!

1 comment:

  1. God has a purpose for your life. He has you EXACTLY where you need to be. We are all a sum of our experiences, and you bring a wealth of that to the classroom and your friendships. Alicia is right, and for one, I'm glad you didn't go because that made it possible for you to be my professor, mentor, and trusted friend. God is good, sir!

    ReplyDelete