Rant

Rant...or Catharsis

This has been a shitty day for me, lots of memories coming back and kicking me in the head. 35 years ago, somewhere around this time I went down to the airstrip at An Khe with my buddy, later in the day I came back - he didn't. OH, I've gotten over blaming myself, it just hurts knowing he NEVER has come home, I dream of him laying on the jungle floor hearing the planes and choppers going over and not able to see him. A man was such a small spot against all that jungle, wish we could have found him. Time passes, laying in the trenches/bunkers at Pleiku, listening to the shit going over our heads, the sound as something hits the back of the bunker behind me. I look back and see a fuckin hole the size of a fist torn out of the sandbag directly behind me, how did it miss me? Why did it miss me? The only way in was thru the small slit in front of me, what was I doing that this chunk of death missed me. We had a hard time keeping the wire clear over those 3 days, lot of crap came at us, by us and over us, guess they didn't think we were worth the effort to kill, the rest of Pleiku caught Hell but we lived thru the showers of steel. As I sit here I can remember some of the times that I should have died, Two Bits - blown 20 yards into a foxhole that happened to be there. All I got was a 3" strip on shrapnel in my leg, the building I just came out of was demolished, pull it out, put a Band-Aid on it and keep truckin'. Coming back from English or headed to Uplift, can't remember which, and the truck ran over that mine, the whole bunch of us landed at least 20 feet from the truck, at least we had 2 radios cause one of them was shit. Had to get a chopper to get the driver and shotgun to the aid station cause they almost didn't make it - thank God I had ridden in the back. Never wanted to see what an autorotation was but at least we were within 5 clicks of the strip and inbound. The time the blue line turned out to be a great bloody brown swollen flood that we had to go a damn long way to get around. Sitting in the hooch, passing a joint or two and at least 5 bottles, trying to unwind from some operation that I can't remember. I'M AF, I AIN'T SUPPOSED TO BE DOING THIS SHIT, I DIDN'T JOIN TO BE SENT TO VIET NAM, I WAS SUPPOSED TO GO TO GERMANY OR ENGLAND, NOT HERE!!!!!!!!! I didn't drink much before I came over here, just a beer now and then, but now the bottle helps me hide from what is out there. I get down to Bao Loc, this is supposed to be an easy place to pull duty. Charlie decides to take the province over again after I've been there a little while, I get to go out with the MAC-V Teams, this ain't the fun I was supposed to get into. Riding the O-1's, looking for them, trying to make the last few months. Gosh, here's an O-2, it's fun and weird at the same time to ride in them, they cover ground at a faster pace, I can't spot as good as from the -1. Then one night the whole world turns upside down for me, I end up on the floor of the building (an old French villa we were sleeping in) with the entire wall on top of me. I'm wrapped up in an old oak desk that used to be beside my bunk, took me a week to get all the splinters out of my ass. Finally I get to go home, out process drunk, fly back to the States drunk, go home tipsy, hide it from my folks for the 3 weeks I stay there, break up with the one girl who ever was too good for me. Then down to Patrick AFB FL., in process tipsy, for the next 3 years I drink a fifth of likker each day. I'm trying to hide from my memories, ETS, stay in Fla trying to find the heights, ending up in the depths at the absolute bottom. The only thing I can say about drugs is that I didn't pierce my skin with any, I sure did find all the others tho'.

My rant is finished for now, seems I need to clear my soul once in a while, things have been very depressed and sad around here for the past forever. I'm missing my son really bad right now, I know almost for sure that I'll be the last one to die in my family, there is no one to carry on the name and the daughter doesn't look like she'll ever marry. I know there is just more pain in the future for me and I almost can't stand the thought of what is coming. Don't worry tho', I don't have any intention of stopping my own clock, I would welcome it stopping on it's own but that isn't going to happen for another 50 years.

View My Guestbook Sign My Guestbook

Webmaster: Thurman P. Woodfork