My own private War

Thanks for this thread and as Caity said, sharing it with us

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Health is the greatest gift, contentment the greatest wealth, faithfulness the best relationship.
Buddha

The birth of my firstborn son was like having jumper cables hooked up to my heart and the giving source being a muscle car on steroids revving up to the max. As I held my wife’s hand during his breach, I cried and I smiled, and I rejoiced, and then my son cried and I cannot think of a more wonderful sound in this world. The doctor asked if I wanted to cut the umbilical cord, and even though I was drenched in happiness and euphoria and adrenaline I declined…yeeechhhhhhh!!.. Still, after the “cutting” and clamping was done I held my son and looked at him and his beautiful existence. He was still bawling like a scalded dog, and so was I. I placed him on his mother’s chest and felt more complete than I had ever felt before.

Three months later I was off to join the Army; it was the toughest thing I had ever done: leaving my family, but one has to provide, one has to provide.

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“The gladdest moment in human life, methinks, is a departure into unknown lands.” – Sir Richard Burton

That is so lovely

My firstborn is now 21, ok.

Oh wow... was today his birthday? It's my aunts too... 'course she hasn't seen 21 in a while... but don't tell her I said that...

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Ok

Thanks

Is it over? This is incredibly interesting. Your dedication to your family is crazy.

I'm confused though. You were saying how you got in a fight and that a sergeant, or someone from the military, saw you fighting. Did you go to a military school before enlisting, or does the Army have a section for civilians who are about to enter? I'm coming from the Air Force. I always like hearing about the way other branches do their basic training.

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Thank you, and no I have a few more things I want to put down on paper/screen, and the thing about my son being 21 was an incomplete post, I did not mean to click the "history erasure" button. I figured it is true so I just left it. I would not put too much stock into Basic training from my day to the way it is now, and the confrontation I had was at a Reception Station, the place you hang out before Basic.

And here I thought you posted it because it was his birthday... and cut it short because you might have been having a wee bit of trouble, shall we say, coming to terms with his age.... Note to self: do not drink... think... and post....

Well you are right about the coming to terms part.

Most of the days after the Gulf War were much worse than the war itself. I was blind. I see little flashes now and then of bodies run over by tracked vehicles and of their guts staining the tan desert purple and yellow. That’s the color of mashed guts ya know? Yellow and purple, not red. I honestly try not to see these things; I mean who would want to right? But I do; I see them even though I try to blind my memory with drink and typing and reading and movies. I am glad I am able to forget the worst; isn’t that a horrible thing to say: glad to forget? I cannot think of a worse time in my life than the cleanup, the burning, the burying, the forgetting, the numbness, the hate, the horn of plenty filled with negative emotions until it bursts out yellow and purple on the ground at your feet. All you can do is step over it and come back with a shovel and a bucket and say yes sir and hurraaa sir and can I have some water sir? Can I have some water now? Clean water, not salty and dirty with bile? Please sir, God? May I please wash this away with fresh water from a spring that flows rapidly into my mouth so I may drown in cleanliness?

Wooo Heavy stuff 7th

“Jesus Elliott, you need to cleanup your act!” Drill Sgt White so loudly screwed into my head like I was a dirty used-up whore and he was Mr. Clean on a weekly trip to the local cathouse.

I had been cleaning the latrine for almost five hours for a punishment that was so miniscule I cannot even remember what rule or code I had violated. It might have been rule #2: If you have never done anything wrong, then you are wrong and will be punished rule. Either way I alone had to spit shine the bathroom with only four things: My toothbrush, a can of brasso, paper towels thinner than my great grandmothers forehead skin, and a garden hose stuck through the jalousie windows of the second floor like a pale green snake spitting rusty brown water that just made things dirtier. I had learned from others that no matter how hard you try; no matter how good it looked and smelled, even if the Virgin Mary herself had decided to visit the latrine and bless it with unadulterated steams of pressured water from the melting snowcaps of the Alps, it would never pass first inspection. I did a half ass job the first go around, I cannot lie. The sad truth of it is that the Drill Sgt knew I had sandbagged. I did a decent job, I mean I scrubbed and cleaned all the obvious blemishes that reside in just about any restroom, but I knew it was not even halfway done.

DS White asked me, “Do you think you have done a good job?”
I could not help myself, and my sense of humor has brought me trouble so many times I have lost count, but I said, “Good enough for Government work Drill Sgt.”
I thought I saw the slightest hint of a grin on one of the corners of his mouth, but I was probably mistaken. 26 hours later I was done and had to get ready for a road march.

I had made a mistake. I married early, and young, and without lack of pride. I was told by my future wife’s stepfather that we would be divorced within the first year and that the $50 in his wallet, which he pulled out and shoved in my face, was more than I would ever earn honestly. I tell him now, even though I have no clue where he is: Bobby, I remember when you were demanding things from my future mother-in-law, I remember how she tried to deny you, but you took what you wanted, I remember that the thin walls of the house did nothing but amplify your sick power trip, I remember that I hated you more than anything, but I was too young, too scared to do anything about it. Today though, if I saw you again, I would clean up the world a little bit by removing you from it. Kind of like flushing a used piece of toilet paper, yeah, clean it up- I would.

You were right though about the lasting part, but it was 15 years not 1, and it was one of the hardest things I have ever done, unlike how easy it must have been for you to divorce my mother-in-law after 6 months because you found out she was not getting a big settlement from her fathers death. I hope you feel like a man wherever you are.

You know, 7th, I'll be honest. This was hard for me to read through at times. Not because it was bad because it's good, and not because of the content, either. I guess I felt like I was intruding on your private life. This was very personal, and therefore a little uncomfortable for me. I thank you for sharing part of your self with us and serving our country so selflessly.

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If God had wanted me otherwise, He would have created me otherwise.

Johann von Goethe

You need some help from this lady

It was a dream I had when I was around 14 or 15, but I will never forget the clarity of it:

“Cleanup that bloody mess boy”, some strange male voice spoke to me through a loudspeaker system hooked up to my mind. Almost like the kind that they used in middle school to tell you who won this award or that accolade and what was for lunch that day.

What mess? I asked curiously.

The blood and guts, and remnants of your new life that you have spilled upon this pristine environment, you useless piece of garbage!!!!, he screamed.

What?, I asked

Grab that mop and that bucket that are part of your life and use them to clean up the mess that you left after you were born, the voice demanded.

What? I asked again.

You are not a kitten; your mother does not eat your sac for you and does not bite the cord to set you free, clean, sharp cutters do that little freak. Clean it up yourself so that the only thing that remains in this place is what you will become, not what you were or what shell brought you here.

I do not understand, I said.

Just clean it up fool, I am done with you.


It was only a dream and I have had it only once, but I remember every detail to this day.

But what does it mean? You must have an idea.

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