I think it was Thomas Wolfe who said that you can't go home again. I think the sentiment he was expressing was that you grow up and change and so does everything at home. So when you revisit your past, it isn't there anymore. At least that's how I have experienced it. MamaCharlie accuses me of being overly nostalgic and maybe I am. I prefer to regard it as a respect for my history but I can see her point. I am kinda stuck in the sixties....
The Army's policy for soldiers returning from Vietnam was that if you had six months or more left on your enlistment, you would be assigned somewhere in the States. If you had less than six months left you would be discharged early and sent home. Even shaving off the short-timers like that, Stateside posts soon became seriously over-populated. My brother was sent to Fort Ord in September of 1966 and was assigned to a signal unit that had so many soldiers in it tha...
Caudell was a mechanic in our maintenance shop. He spent as much time after hours working on other peoples, and his own, cars as he did working on the company's trucks. He also spent a lot of time over at the Army junk yard looking for parts and such. On several occasions he would catch someone turning in a car for junk and buy it cheap before it got into the Army's junk system. One afternoon he intercepted a young GI who was turning in an Audi because he cou...
When I got out of the Army the second time, in 1971, it was still pretty much a "boys only club"...the Women's Army Corps (WACs) was a separate world: separate billets, separate job assignments, and fiercely enforced anti-fraternization regs. Sneaking into the WAC barracks was a general fantasy, sometimes discussed and even planned, but only rarely attempted...usually by fellas on the way home from the club who were well past the legal blood-alcohol limit. At the ...
I made the mistake of watching the video that Whip posted the other day, "We Gotta Get Outa This Place"...by the Animals...a song that almost every GI in Vietnam knew by heart...well...at least the chorus. I remember sitting in the Hua Lu Hotel's rooftop bar; thirty-some hours left in-country and some other drunken short-timer kept playing it on the juke box...so we all sang..."We gotta get outa this place, if it's the last thing we ever do..." and drank more beer a...
Elroy was a bully. He was big, probably 6'4-5'', 225 or more, and malicious. He got crosswise with me at almost our first meeting; he was throwing his weight around in the drivers' waiting area of the motor pool. He, a SP4, called me "Stoney", a nickname reserved for my friends...very few friends. I gave him a minor dressing-down, in front of his cronies, reminding him that even in the relaxed atmosphere of EUCOM, SP4s do not address Staff ...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghXatUGIi9g This morning I came across one of those movies that I cannot resist watching whenever I stumble across it. "Mr. Majestyk" was released in 1974, starred Charles Bronson, was filmed in Colorado (in areas I am familiar with), and was full of 70's TV people. The plot was unremarkable: reluctant love interest, bigger-than-life bad guys, beautiful moll, simple farmer just trying to get along gets crosswise wit...
Mom walked me to school that first day; just a few city blocks. We lived in the middle of the block on Kalmea Street. Walk up to State Street and turn right; then it was only a few blocks to the school. Straight forward, easy, even for an eight-year-old who was reluctant to start in a new school again. She showed me which door to come out of at the end of the day, "Go to the right" she said, "it's only a few blocks to K...
Black Canyon Highway ran south through Phoenix, turned east just south of McDowell, and then came to an end at 40th Street. To get to Tucson you went south on 40th to Baseline, then east to some two-lane highway that went south to Casa Grande. Just past Casa Grande that highway finally reached the freeway that went to Tucson. That's how I did it almost every Sunday in June. The semester had ended at the University of Arizona and MamaCharlie and most of the other girls in the dorms had move...
Warning: This article contains nothing controversial, religious, political, or of social import...it is just a pointless ramble through a few random memories of days gone by... We lived in the small town of Lampertheim, north of Mannheim. Where you could regularly see little ladies doing their daily shopping with their tuetten (shopping bags...reusable ones like grandma used to use), chimney sweeps in traditionally garb toting their sooty brushes and wires, win...
It was a week or so after the Morning of the Rude Awakening. After the attack we were inundated with "experts" advising us on how to make our compound more secure. Fortunately our First Sergeant was a sensible guy and didn't try to implement all the suggestions. So all the lower ranks were assigned to work on security upgrades whenever they weren't doing their regular jobs. That meant that after a twelve- to fourteen-hour day, you would be expected to pu...
The hearse arrives at the cemetery and stops as close to the open grave as possible. The back door opens and the casket team, dressed in their Class A uniforms, immaculate with razor sharp creases and all awards and decorations displayed, secures the flag-draped coffin and prepares either to carry it to the grave or place it on a cart to roll it there. The Chaplain, or the Burial Detail's Officer in Charge (OIC) if a civilian pastor is conducting the gravesi...
One of my favorite kinds of humor is an adage that starts off sounding familiar but then takes a left turn and leaves you with a giggle...or a gasp. I will show you a couple of examples that are among my favorites: Give a man a fish and you will feed him for a meal; teach him to fish and you'll never see him in church on Sunday again. Light a man's fire and you will warm him through the night; set him on fire and he'll be warm for...
From October of 1977 until May of 1983 I was at Patch Barracks, Stuttgart-Vaihingen, Germany; home of the Headquarters of the United States European Command - the highest US command in Europe. I have written a lot of articles about events that transpired there, mostly related to my job in the Protocol Office. MamaCharlie and I regard Patch as some of the best years of our life together. It was a great combination of facilities, good schools, and good military du...
When the doctor says "Cancer", no matter how simple or minor the cancer may be, something happens inside your soul that will never be reversed. Before the doc can continue and explain all the things he wants you to know: survivablity, surgery options, radiation, chemo, diet and exercise, and all the rest, your mind races through everything you know about cancer, who you know that has had some sort or another, who lived and who died, what body parts would you give up t...