Memorial Day Remembrance

This memorial story details just one day, of one tour of duty, of one in the Vietnam War.  He came home, but so many others didn't.  Over 58,000 men didn't return, and this is to honor their sacrifice.  If you have never been able to see the Vietnam War Memorial Wall in person, thanks to the internet you can see the virtual wall.  It is a very sobering project. This particular story is my dad's.  He is 1st Lieutenant Glen Bradley Weeks, Army Ranger and Vietnam Veteran, honorably discharged in 1969.  In memory of the ultimate sacrifice of two friends, Artie Comstock Jr, and Vic Mika.

Screaming missiles with white hot trails flew through the sky. One landed in the helicopter with us before exploding.  No time to think or understand.  No yell of “Incoming” - just the impact itself.

The concussive blast knocked out my hearing, mercifully perhaps, because my friends and brothers in arms were screaming in pain all around me.  The bird to my left took a rocket hit and crashed and exploded in the earth below us.  The air smelled of fire, seared flesh, and fear.

It was a horrible nightmare come to life in the steamy, pre-dawn, April morning as we arrived that day at Dinh Tuong Province otherwise known as “Fish Hook.”  My heart pounded hard in my chest, in tune with the whirring chopper blades.  The adrenaline surged from knowing that we were now landing in enemy territory. What had started as a routine mission, was quickly becoming anything but that.

The reality, though, of the Vietnam War, was that danger lurked everywhere, and we were trained to be ready to face it no matter what.  The enemy could be directly in front of us, or they had just left after hiding the mines that blew up our friends.

No one could be trusted, not even the women or children.  Too many times, other soldiers had made that mistake believing an innocent just needed help only to be blown up with them.  It was an extreme sort of torture for the soul to view everyone with suspicion.

1st and 2nd platoon of Charlie Company came in with about 60 men that morning.   Ambushed as we were landing, some birds were being brought down from the sky having taken on heavy machine gun fire, and being hit by rockets. Those birds not hit by artillery fire dropped soldiers and got out as fast as possible.

Our routine mission had just landed me regretfully in charge.  My Commanding Officer was wounded and needed pickup by the MedEvac personnel, otherwise known as the Dustoff, and the 1st platoon leader, Vic Mika, from Fords, New Jersey, only a couple weeks shy of his 24th birthday was now dead beside me.  Time slowed for just an instant, and I had a chance to think about how I had gotten to this place.

Having joined the Army after failing out of my college classes at the ripe old age of 18,  I headed off to Fort Bragg, North Carolina for basic training.  Soon I advanced to Fort Dix in New Jersey where I specialized in advanced Infantry training.

I relished the physical labor and the discovery of what I could push my body to do. I had finally found a place to excel.  Officer Candidate School was the next logical move, and so off to Ft. Benning, Georgia I went.  After graduating as a 2nd Lieutenant, I headed to Ranger School.  Rangers were the elite, and I knew I had what it took.  Just reading the Ranger Creed inspired me.

RANGER CREED

“Recognizing that I volunteered as a Ranger, fully knowing the hazards of my chosen profession, I will always endeavor to uphold the prestige, honor, and high esprit de corps of my Ranger regiment.

Acknowledging the fact that a Ranger is a more elite soldier, who arrives at the cutting edge of battle by land, sea, or air, I accept the fact that as a Ranger, my country expects me to move further, faster, and fight harder than any other soldier.

Never shall I fail my comrades. I will always keep myself mentally alert, physically strong, and morally straight, and I will shoulder more than my share of the task, whatever it may be, one hundred percent and then some.

Gallantly will I show the world that I am a specially selected and well trained soldier. My courtesy to superior officers, neatness of dress, and care of equipment shall set the example for others to follow.

Energetically will I meet the enemies of my country. I shall defeat them on the field of battle for I am better trained and will fight with all my might. Surrender is not a Ranger word. I will never leave a fallen comrade to fall into the hands of the enemy and under no circumstances will I ever embarrass my country.

Readily will I display the intestinal fortitude required to fight on to the Ranger objective and complete the mission, though I be the lone survivor.

RANGERS LEAD THE WAY!”

(source www.goarmy.com - read more about the elite force Rangers here also)

After completing my training, I headed home to visit my family.  When my parents came to pick me up at the airport, though, I could tell they had been crying.  They said we had to wait for my best friend, Artie.  But that couldn’t be right I told them since Artie had joined the Marines before I did and he had already beaten me over to the war zone.  Unfortunately, Artie was coming home - in a box.  Much to my great sorrow his flag-draped coffin arrived that night, and the next day I saw my best friend buried. That was September of 1966.

Shortly after this I was ordered to Ft. Campbell, Kentucky to train the new recruits. It would not be long after until it was my turn to be called up for my tour of duty on the front lines.  I left for Vietnam in February of 1968.  I was a 1st Lieutenant with the Army Ranger force, and I was just 20 years old. I left full well knowing that I might not return.

My focus came back to the chaos unfolding around me. The rest of that day was a blur of gunfights, and battling for protection on the ground from a daunting enemy.    We had many wounded, myself included.  I was knocked down but not out, yet.  There was still life left in me and a battle to be fought - and won.  The men that were left alive dug in and returned fire for the most of the day.

We had no idea how many NVA enemies we were up against, and we had no reinforcements for most of the day.  Mercifully the 3rd platoon was airlifted in with artillery bombardment, and 30 more men for reinforcements, by late afternoon.  Later we learned that radar detected the mass retreat of at least 5,000 enemy troops.  60 men had held off 5,000 - what are the odds?

The war raged on, and there were many more stories and firefights the rest of that year.  I finished up my tour and was sent back home to New York shortly after being honorably discharged. I was awarded three purple hearts and a Bronze Star medal for valor.  In trying to get these men in my charge to safety that day, I had to stop and retrieve a wounded soldier and pull him along with me while still under fire.

As we celebrate this Memorial Day, I remember the men that didn’t come home.  They gave their lives in service to our country, and while the rest of us returned, we are forever-changed men.  Physical and emotional wounds that will live on for the rest of our lives remain with us.  We will never forget the smells, sights, and sounds from those terrible days in the bush, nor will we ever forget the loss of life of our friends and brothers.

Coming home from Vietnam was gut-wrenching since it was not a war with a definitive win, and since our nation was at such odds over being involved in the conflict, there was no celebration to be made.

War is an ugly business.  Many devoted men have sacrificed their lives in war. Maybe even in wars that you don’t agree with having been waged.  Regardless of which side of the controversy you claimed for Vietnam, the men who gave all they had should be remembered and celebrated.  They died in noble and brave service for our great nation.  This Memorial Day perhaps you don’t personally know the name of anyone who has died in war - if not remember the name of my best friend, Artie Comstock Jr., and my buddy Vic Mika with me today.

We will always remember. We will always be proud. We will always be prepared, so we may always be free — Ronald Reagan

(if you also have a story to share, it would be an honor for me to read it in the comments below.)

The image used for the photo was one I found online - attributed to Horst Faas/AP

This is a short story written this weekend, compiled from notes my mom had, the rare stories my dad has shared, and research accomplished online.

Sounds all around us

The hummingbird buzzed my head this morning as I was watching the sun rise. I didn’t see it, I heard it. The distinct whir of it’s wings and my thought was “a hummingbird!” - I love hummingbirds! I turned to look in the direction of the sound, and sure enough it was a hummingbird. Just as soon as it realized I was moving, it flew off. There and gone, but unmistakable the sound of it’s wings. My mind started wandering, do I know other birds simply by the noise they make? And I for sure can tell you the pair of woodpeckers that are in the tree to the right of the deck where I like to sit and write have their own unmistakable chirp. It’s fascinating. I know when I hear it, that they are close by and I start to look for them. Usually very quickly I can find the redheaded bird in the tree from there. They are also immediately recognizable when they are pecking the tree! I recognize the call from the hawk. I’m convinced she has a nest high up at the top of one our trees. Her sound is unmistakable as well. I could go on, the pair of cardinals, have taught me their chirp and the Canadian geese on the lake - well everyone would know that one.

As my mind continued down this path, the sun shone brighter and brighter. It’s a clear morning not a cloud in the sky but distinctly cooler than it has been all week. I started thinking of our dog Daisy’s bark. We know when it’s her bark at night keeping us up. My mind travelled to my children. Like when they were younger and I heard "Mom", I knew it was my child. That alert panic that enters your soul when you hear the cry of “Mom” with a note of something desperately wrong in it, or the sweet sound of something fun and exciting - you still know when it’s your child. Today I still recognize their voice in a crowd and sometimes still sense that panic of the cry of “Mom” if something is wrong.

Just as swiftly as I thought about my children, and the fact that I can pick their voice out of a crowd, I thought of my Heavenly Father. Just as I have learned as an ordinary person to listen and hear the sounds around me and connect them with what I have seen, how much more extraordinary is it that we can “hear” what our Heavenly Father says to us. He has already told us that He knows who we are - that we were planned from the beginning of time, that he formed us in the womb. He knows the number of hairs on our heads, and the tears that we cry. He is intimately involved in every aspect of our lives. Our Creator God is astounding and awesome. My mind fails to understand how he can keep up with all of us, it seems so unlikely and impossible. What’s even more amazing to me is the way that if we spend time reading His words, meditating on His Scriptures, and talking with him in prayer, we can learn to hear the sound of his voice. The unmistakable leading of His hand just as clearly as the sound the wind makes when it moves the trees to bend and sway.

Unfortunately this is where I have a breakdown personally. I sense His leading, I hear his calling, and I start to walk the directions I know He’s told me to go. But I am full of doubt, and insecurity and start to wonder “did I really hear what God was telling me?”. This morning, I sensed that God just wanted me to remember that as I am faithful to walk daily with him, and hear from him, I can walk ahead confidently knowing that what He has told me and placed within my heart is His specific leading.

What a great way to start the day! It’s been a lovely morning so far, I can’t wait to see what lies ahead.

Building A Platform - huh?

I know most people are wondering what in the world is Vicki up to these days.   There's always something going on and things are always interesting.  But I'm in the process of learning and doing some new things and one is to finally sit down and write a book.  I've talked about it, joked about it, but never actually decided to do anything about writing, well because I'm busy doing some other stuff.  So here I am finally attempting to do the things I've talked about for so long, and finding out that there is a whole LOT more to the process than I ever dreamed!   It's not quite as simple as deciding to sit down and write a book! Actually more than one book, but that is really beside the point.  Why write one thing when you have a lot of ideas?!?! Over the next few posts, I want to take time to share what I'm working on but I don't want to throw it all out there at once.  I'm going to post some of the images I've worked on lately, and ask that you my friends and readers (hi mom!) to please follow me on Twitter, on pinterest ,and on Facebook.  (just click the word and the link should take you there)  Also if you'll go ahead and sign up on the blog, I'll send out emails from time to time sending you special content that won't be on the blog.  It may be a short story, it may be a devotional thought, or a new image.  It won't be so often you'll feel like you are being spammed, and you can always opt out at any time.

Early on in this process I have learned that platform building is hugely important.  Today's publishing world cares how many people you have access to, and can reach.  No one really cares what you have to say, if people out there aren't already following you, interacting with you and responding to you.  To this end, one board at a time, one connection here and there is what I am working on.   I'm thankful for social media connections, but I am even more thankful that there are apps now that help you schedule ahead your day, or even your week so that you don't have to spend ridiculous amounts of time on social media.  That was a huge issue for me before I discovered that in just a few short minutes a day, I could get things ready for the day ahead and get them posted automatically.  So while it may appear that all I do is sit on Facebook and Twitter, I promise I don't :)

At the end of the day, I'm just a girl asking you to follow me and see what I'm doing and where this path takes me.  I don't truly know why this is the time and place for this, but I am going to Carpe Diem and all.  I'm ready and now I need you!  I need an organic group of folks who know me and still like me to support my writings and "creatings" and will help me get to the next level and God willing get published one day.

I'd love for you to be on my team!

The Story Teller

Fascinating!  as I am working on my novel I am intrigued by the process.  As a voracious reader for my entire life, I am fascinated by being on the flip side of the coin.  The idea of creating something that I would like to read - so many fun parts to doing this! There are parts of the story that I am writing, while already knowing in advance how the story is going to end.  I know the plot, and I know the characters and how each will play their role through the story.  As I am working to write a scenario that will end up being unfinished as far as a particular relationship goes, I know it has to be unfinished because I know the end of the story.

As I sit back and think through the implications of this, I had the most impressive thought strike me that that is exactly what is going on in our own stories of our life.  We don’t see the end. We aren’t infinite.  The only point of view for our story is the moments that we are in right now and when things don’t turn out the way we expect them too we feel failure, pain, disappointment and even discouragement.

NEWSFLASH! But here’s the thing we don’t KNOW the end of our story.  We have no idea how the Divine Storyteller is currently weaving the story of our lives, and we don’t understand the plot twists.  We can’t understand because we haven’t seen the ending yet.  BUT HE HAS! And, even better, we are promised that He works all things for our good and for His glory.  Forgive me for having a moment here my friends, but I feel as if God has just given me a bit of insight into some of the things He’s working in my own story right now.

Many times I don’t understand the discouragement, the disappointment or the doubts - but I don’t know the ending.  Even better, I don’t have to know the ending, I just need to trust my StoryTeller and have faith that He is writing my story perfectly.

Best Laid Plans & the Moon

Sometimes the best laid plans really do go awry. 20 years ago, my husband had a perfectly orchestrated proposal planned out. He rented the convertible, planned the dinner and dessert, suggested the drive out to the beach for a walk and pre-recorded the midnight phone call for my very own cellphone.

It was all perfect, except for one small detail – me.

I’ve always kept him a little off kilter I think. I don’t think like he does, and I don’t look at things the way he does. So when he expected me to have my cellphone charged that night, I didn’t. Mistakenly, I assumed that since we would be together on our date that evening, it wouldn’t be necessary then to charge my phone since he was the only one who ever called me on it.

Of course, that threw a monkey wrench into everything.

I wasn’t really sure why he even rented a convertible on that April evening. It was still kind of cool in the evenings on those April nights in Pensacola and so while the top and windows were down, we had to blast the heat because I was so cold!

He also kept acting strange all night. He kept asking why I hadn’t charged my phone and how much battery did it have left. I had almost left it at home that night – again he was the only one that called me on it – but I kept flipping it open and telling him –it’s got 10%, it’s got 5% etc. We were out walking on the beach when it finally died. He asked if it had any battery left and I said no. So we sat down on the sand and looked out at the sky. It was a beautiful night and the moon was beautiful. He started talking about the moon and how round it was and he ended up just winging his proposal and I remember being shocked and excited all at one time. He give me the ring and I said yes -  but I had literally no idea what I had put him through.   I had no idea how I had messed up his plans by letting my phone go dead.

We sure have laughed about this through the years – the reality is I wouldn’t change a thing! 20 years later it’s still a precious memory and I have loved reminiscing about it all day today!  And as Paul Harvey used to say "and now you have the rest of the story!"