I'm afraid I'm gonna have to hold you to that kiss, Izzy.
I, by the way, am gonna have a brick made with my name and info engraved on it, so it could be a part of a veteran's walkway in a park here in my town. My name, the ship I served on, and the inclusive dates. It costs so little, and it's an awesome thing, to be there with other vets.
Today, I'm thinking of my grandmother's second husband, a wonderful man who served in the infantry in Mark Clark's Army, as it struggled up the boot. He came back emotionally damaged, to a marked degree, and spent much of the remainder of his life in VA hospitals. There's also my maternal grandfather, who fought in the Army in the Pacific Theater (although he was an emotionally disturbed human being already without having to blame it on combat). I'm thinking of a man I knew, a Korean veteran who worked for a major publisher in New York (a publisher we all know, by the way), who helped spearhead the campaign to get a Korean memorial built. There was the Chief who I served under, who served Brown Water Navy, going up the Mekong in PBRs, kind of like what John Kerry did, as did Martin Sheen and a very young Laurence Fishburne in "Apocalypse Now". I'm thinking of a very young, very angry Iraq vet who I met, driving a flatbed, towing yet another brokedick VW into my dealership...a very puzzled and angry young man who can't get over how the American people don't have a clue as to the sacrifice he and his colleagues are making over there.
Most of all, I'm thinking of one of my main characters in my novel...a guy who served in Korea, and is haunted for the rest of his life by the nightmares. This is for Bernie, and all the other Bernies.
This is for all the vets on the board...you'll always stand tall.
