Quoted:It's amazing how much serving during Vietnam times changed us all - whether we were front-line grunts or just in country - or even just people who enlisted and stayed stateside got changed a little I would guess. I will admit that I reenlisted because the first time that I went back home on leave after my first tour was over, I didn't fit in any more. It was sort of like a dream. The people at home didn't seem real any more. I wonder if vets coming back from Iraq and Afghanistan feel the same way when they first get home? I hope not because it's not good. When you are in country, you count down your days to get back to the world, but when you get back, you find that you have changed and nothing seems the same. It's like you crossed a bridge and can't get back to the other side ever again.
I don't see my best friend Davey much these days, due to his work. He was a LRRP troop in the 101st. He has at least two bronze stars, purple heart, etc. and was shot up in the A Shau. One night when we ah,,,,had a bit too much to drink, he got out his old pictures and medals and citations and let me read them. Trust me. He earned his bronze stars. His wife, who is nosey by nature, has always nagged Davey to tell her "how it was" in SEA. She gets pissed when he and I get together to talk and drink that she feels "left out" of our conversations. He drinks too much, smokes too much and his hands shake a little. He doesn't sleep very well without a healthy dose of wild turkey at bedtime. My sister is afraid of him and asks me why I am friends with him. I have told her that I would trust this man with my life any day and if I ever got in a fight, there is nobody I would rather have beside me - especially if we were getting shot at. She can't understand my confidence in him and she just looks at me with wide eyes. How do you explain things like this to a civilian?
Now I am an old professor in a small very liberal university full of whiney, spoiled liberal Obama lovers who think the government owes them something. They strut around in their yuppie slacks and shoes, smiing like they know everything, ready to tell people how the world is. Most of them would have broke in country in a week. They have never spent one day living in the mud, eating C-rats, shitting in a hole, seeing people KIA in body bags, having to pull leeches off their legs, or just wanting a drink of clean water. These were the people marching and protesting when they were young while we served. Some days I want to grab them and slap them and tell them how weak their game is, but you can't do that. You just have to press on, keep your mouth shut and smile.
I have recently had three students who were in country in Iraq. I have taken care of them and helped them personally to make sure they succeed. They are our brothers now. When I look out at 25 students, all I have to do is look in their eyes a few minutes and observe how they interact with other students. It's easy to spot the young vets. During a class break
they will be the three standing together apart from the others. They are changed now just like we were in our day.
And that's what it boils down to.