SwiftVets.com

[Cam Ranh '71]

Traditional Memorial Day 2004

It's the SOLDIER, NOT the REPORTER who has given us
Freedom of the Press.

It's the soldier, not the poet, who has given us
Freedom of Speech.

It's the soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us the
Freedom to Demonstrate.

It's the soldier, not the lawyer, who has given us the
Right to a Fair Trial.

It's the soldier who salutes the flag, serves under the flag and
whose coffin is draped by the flag,

Who gives the protestor the right to burn the flag.
~Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, USMC


“The willingness with which our young people are likely to serve in any war, no matter how justified, shall be directly proportional to how they percieve veterans of early wars were treated and appreciated by our nation”. ........George Washington

America’s Wars ..........1.32 million KIA’s 1775-2004

Compiled by CS - Cam Ranh Bay '71-'72
Vietnam Veteran

[Sharps Shooter]

The following was all in Korean when it transpired.

"I thought you were staying on the compound tonite.'

Two other girls had already jumped out of the bed where the three had been sleeping, and sleepy-eyed, had gone to the hooch next door, when he knocked at 2AM.

Her boyfriend was a strange being, who spoke her language like a college-educated moron, with a huge vocabulary but few idioms, and a stilted, labored speaking manner. Tonite he was asking her if she knew about America's Memory Day, for Remembering Soldiers.

No, she didn't.

Hadn't she once said her father was a RoK soldier?

She closed the paper door against the island's cool night outside, sheltered the candle, and climbed under the quilt. Her back was to him, and his arms were around her, dispassionately.

Yes, I remember Father.

And she began sobbing quietly, long moments until she could gain control again. He didn't press her for details.

I was 11, and we were walking to Pusan. He met us, and talked with Momma for a few hours, then in the afternoon he met several more soldiers, and the 6 of them walked northward, with carbine rifles and
pistols.

Six of them. With carbines and rifles.

She shook with sobs, racked but silent.

He went to fight a division of Soviet tanks and heavy artillery. I never saw him again.

That was just a few days before Grandma sat beside the road, refugees streaming southward, and she said she was tired. She made Momma take me, saying she'd just rest for a while. I never saw her again.

It was near Pusan that I saw Americans for the first time. My mother yelled at me to pick up the things they threw from their big truck, and that was my first taste of chocolate. And gum.

My whole life was war, do you understand? My whole life was war. I could only remember one image of Father smiling at Momma, then war.
Yoog-ee-oh War (6-25 War... June 25th War)

After the long walk back to Seoul, we were told the war was paused. Not ended, but waiting. I was still fearful. And always hungry. We found a dog killed under the wheels of a GI truck, and it fed us well for 3 days.

I was almost 14 when Momma dressed me in a dress she'd found and washed. Others looked badly at me, but Momma said we cannot eat shame. Don't let them 'do something to you' until they pay you, at least two dollars.

(Long quiet)

It hurt the first time, and the second. Now, my brother is 19 and I'm 22. He may know HOW he had enough money for uniforms and food and that black market transistor radio, but he has never said one word.

I've been on KangHwa Island for almost one year. The money I get pays for Momma and my brother, and for me a little.

My father was a good man. He left me, to fight against the Soviet tanks, with a rifle and no helmet.

Do you understand, American?"

Then we put out the candle, and slept quietly.

Memorial Day KWD 1966 (KangWha Island, Korean DMZ)
_________________
America's next Hannity, sharp as Steyn, clearly firm like Cox & Forkum...
4 years ASA; Korean linguist/teacher at DLI; served during fallout of USS Pueblo;