wow Grumpy. I don't know what to say but I am glad you have others who know what you endured. {{{{{HUGS}}}}}

There are no words. Only a hug and a thank you. From an Airman's wife.

I know what you mean. I watched the video a couple of times over a week before deciding to post it.

Like you, There are things I want to block out, and forget, but they are there, in the back of my mind.

There are things I don't want to forget, some of the views from the huey while moving our firebase to a new location.

The ever present kids, they always had a big smile and a hand out, and we were always ready to give them what ever we had to help keep that simile on their faces.

I travel back to Vietnam a few times a week. No, I don't hop on a jet and visit, but I do it either in my mind, or on Google Earth. On
Google Earth I have found several of the old bases that I was stationed on at one time or the other. The larger ones are large brown spots surrounded by green, you know what thats all about. Something called Agent Orange. Most of those bases are fenced off, and still not used 40 plus years later.

My best friend Jim died a few years ago, complications from that orange stuff, I knew Jim since 1968, we worked together, got drafted together, ran into each other in Basic training, and even in Vietnam. Most everyone who knows me has been bored by the story of my going AWOL in Vietnam for 3 days with Jim!

Rod Stewart is not one of my favorite artists, but he sang a song called "Forever Young". When I visited the "Wall" in DC, back in the 80's, I was not prepared for the flood of emotions that hit me. I went at night, and just looked at that never ending list of names. They are truly Forever Young. How many were cut down in the prime of life, what would have become of them if they had returned home? Sure, many would have problems, many would become normal dads, and husbands, many would be haunted as we are my friend, and some would become good at hiding their true feelings and experiences.

I learned soon after returning home, to keep my mouth shut. It took me almost 40 years to speak publicly about my tour. and that is what started my blogging, first at Blogster, now here. When I came home My cousin who is the same age as I, asked me a question that set me off. He asked how many babies I killed. He is a true war protester, professional college student, and a total A**. The icing on the cake was my sister. She sat there laughing about it like the A** she is. The answer they got shocked them, all of them.

It was November, I returned on the 11th, and Mom made a big Dinner and the relatives came to dinner. When my cousin asked me that, we were in the process of shaking hands. Me being left handed was my cousins biggest problem. As we shook hands with the right hands, my left hand clinched and came around and landed squarely on his jaw, throwing him out the front door and down the stairs. I think that was the beginning of my family problems.

I put a cork on it, vowing to never speak about it again, and try to not let anyone know I was ever in the Army. Until Blogster.

So yes, the video was a tough one to watch, how many of those guys didn't come home? How many are "Forever Young"? A vet knows another Vet when he sees one. He doesn't have to be wearing a hat or pin, you just know. There is something in the eyes, maybe something that's not in the eyes now, that use to be there before our tour.

Hope you have a good Christmas Grumpy.