The Empty Handled Warrior

the planes take off, with a roar… its all over now, in my ears… no longer empty handed… war always ends. war always ends the same way. war always ends in death. we just don’t know who’s or when… flying out of saigon, i’m gone. taking it all back home.

40 Years

Ongoing. I stopped posting these items several months ago. Didn’t stop writing them, but I have been building rather than remembering. Someone needs to do both. Anyhow 40 years ago, Jun ’68 I returned from Vietnam. A tough journey, with lousy seats and noisy neighbors. My date of expected return had come, and passed. Oddly, I went back to Fort Monmouth, NJ where a friend had been able to stay out of the fray. He was still in the Army, while I wasn’t. Nevertheless I was able to eat at the mess hall, stay in an empty bunk… A high security facility teaching electronics, intercept, etc, but with shiny shoes, black socks and a short haircut, I could walk onto base among the crowd of drunk GIs returning from leave… ain’t the Army grand? I still had passes, tho they were for Dalat, and such…

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Remember kids, it is all in how you flash your badge. If you are forceful enough, disdainful enough, the guard won’t even look at you. That, is command presence. In many cases a sharp look is better than a sharp knife.