Thom Rock.... Silk Pajamas & Tombstone Eyes....My Story Told

LAST DAY IN VIETNAM...

2009-05-14T06:53:00.000-07:00

Well, the time has arrived to call an end to the journey. Today, we brought it to a close by going to the war museum. I knew this was going to present the ugliness of war from the Vietnamese perspective, however I did not expect to be impacted like I was. Of course, the presentation is pretty one sided, but the one side is rather accurate. The photographs were most disturbing. It is bad enough seeing what we as Americans were put through, but the things, the horror we delivered to the Vietnamese people is nothing short of criminal. I know only too well, that war is ugly, but without a doubt, our conduct and activities were beyond comprehension in some respects. Once again, I did not handle it well as I got noticeably upset. A Vietnamese man came up to me and was most kind and concerned about me. Told me it is in the past and let it go, that the Vietnamese have opened their hearts to us and all has been forgiven and that they only want to look to the future. Not only in the photos of the museum, but on the streets, the deformed people from our agent orange is enough to make you throw up. Then a reporter came up to Lieu and I as I was reading the last paragraph to "The Bunker and the Cracker Jack Kids" and put his mic to pick up what I was saying. Then the government police came over and wanted him to stop and took the nice man a way for a short time. We were being watched pretty closely as we moved through the museum. One guard came up to Lieu and asked her if she had permission to talk to the tourists (me) and she said that she was with me, so OK, but we were continually watched. Be thankful you live in the USA. The two hours in that museum took its toll on me and I was glad when we left and yet I am glad I saw it. WAR SUCKS!!!
We will leave for the airport at 3:45 in the morning and be home about 24 hours later. I am ready.

The Efforts of Lieu....

2009-05-12T07:04:00.000-07:00

Lieu, our interpreter, went on a mission after we left Can Tho today, heading back to Ho Chi Minh City. She did not want to accept that we did not find Muoi, you might say she has gotten caught up in this story rather heavily. She went back to Tao's house in the alley to get a critical piece of information that she needed to follow up on a lead that Muoi, in fact is still alive in Ho Chi Minh City living with a relative. However, we do not have the address. Part of the information we need to get the address is known by Tao's landlord. When Lieu spoke to her to get the information, she wanted a $100 for it. With that piece of information, she would then travel two hours to a Vietnamese jail where a woman who is locked up has the other piece of information needed to locate the residence that Muoi is in. Sound confusing, yes it is and the sad part of it is the landlord holding out for the money. Under those conditions, I told Lieu to let it be, that this is the end of it. I will not pay for information that I have no way of knowing is accurate. It is sad that people stoop to such a level for the almighty dollar. And in contrast, we have Lieu, that out of the kindness of her heart and wanting to help makes such a valant effort....the contrast is stark. The whole thing is a long shot based on some heresay... Gary and I smell a rat. So, for now we will ignore this side twist as it probably is a scam and neither one of us are interested in dealing with it. Lieu is disappointed, as she tried so hard to see this come out good for me. I have thanked her, she did a marvelous job for me. I could have left this out, but if I am going to tell the story, then tell it, the good and the bad. So, after a round of excitement, thinking we were on the move again, we are back at the conclusion that Muoi has died. All over this globe, there are good and bad people, the trick is knowing who is who.
Tomorrow, Gary and I are going to Cu Chi to see the famous tunnel complex built by the Vietnamese.

A NEW DISCOVERY...

2009-05-11T00:46:00.000-07:00

Today was a tough one. The three of us, Gary, Lieu and I returned to the alley this morning with two beautiful bouquets of six roses each, one red and one pink to fulfill a request by Tif. Her older brother was killed in Vietnam about a month before we met in San Francisco. To honor her wish, I left one bouquet at the house of Tao, the woman who helped us so much yesterday and asked her to display them at her front door to honor Michael and the other to honor Muoi. She was pleased to do so. Silence was spoken. While we were there, I was told some new information that I wish I had not heard. My little girl, My Han had been killed by her husband. Needless to say, this did nothing for my day. I can not explain the feelings I went through...you do not want to experience what I did. Right now, I don't know what to say, as it is beyond words.
Tomorrow morning, Gary and I will drive back to Ho Chi Minh City to wrap up our trip. We both agreed we are going to see the famous tunnels at Cu Chi and maybe a museum. Then we will start the trek home. This has been a needed experience and I have no regrets that I made the trip. I thought I was at peace with all of this before I came, but walking that alley, the smells, the people, it all hit me with an emotional overload the likes of which I could not have imagined. Now, so much is clear and I can say, peace is with me. I have learned some valuable lessons and experienced, once again, the beauty of the Vietnamese people. Lieu has been an incredible interpreter as Gary and I have made a new friend. Now my focus is on home and the life in front of me. I am anxious to be back at yoga with my friends. I will continue to post until we start flying. Love to you all.

MY CLOSURE...

2009-05-10T12:57:00.000-07:00

Good morning or should I say "good middle of the night". It is 3AM here and I am feeling much better. So, here is the rundown on yesterday's events. At 9AM our interpreter showed up. Her name is Lieu and she is a 21 year old student from the University here. She drove 50 miles on her sisters motorbike to get here. Gary and I explained to her what it is we want her to do for us, help us find Muoi and the family if that is possible. We started at the Ben xe Muoi parking lot and started walking down the alley that we called "bar alley". The alley and adjoining walkways were the same, but there are more houses packed in there now than there used to be. Lieu took the folder of photos I had of Muoi and the kids and started knocking on doors, looking for elders that would have been alive at that time. At first we were striking out... no one seemed to know her, some said she looked familiar. Then a monsoon rolled in and we took cover in a house/cafe on the alley. It used to be a bar when I was a soldier there. We bought some bottled water and sat down to wait out the downpour. Of course we started showing them the pictures and the chatter started. This drew the attention of the neighbors and people near by, who all started to gather around. Lieu told us everyone had ideas, but no one could say for sure. Then one took the photos and left to show to some other neighbors. At this point, we had quite a few people involved in our quest. While we were waiting, two little girls who were so very intrigued with my shaking hand as I held a bottle of water, one reached out and covered my hand with hers, trying to stop the shaking. It would stop, she would let go and then of course, it would start again. She would hold it again, to stop the shaking.... this went on the whole time we were there. When the monsoon ended and we got up to leave, one of the people said there was an elder neighbor down the alley that might know, so we left in pursuit of this person. The little girl that was holding my hand came with us, still tending to my hand. As we stood just inside the door, Lieu was inquiring for us, the little girl was petting my hand. Lieu turned to me and said, "She said there was a woman named Muoi who had six kids, she had died." I fell apart. Gary hugged me as the compassionate man he is. After compossing myself, we left, however, Lieu was not satisfied. We stopped at another house, which used to be a bar and asked again, hoping it was not my Muoi, but it sounded rather hopeless. A woman our age invited us in to her home after Lieu explained our purpose. She looked at the pictures and was talking alot in Vietnamese and then I heard her say Tokyo Bar, which was one of the bars, most likely the one we were in. I used to go into the Tokyo Bar. Then she started talking to me in English and rather good English at that. She was one of the bar girls that used to flirt with the GIs. She said she recognized Muoi in the picture, did not know her personnelly, but would see her walking the alley. She had heard that she was the woman that someone bought her house for her and I told her that was me. She then said she had not seen her for about three years, didn't know if she moved or died. She told me that I am a very good man to come back to see her, that no one came back to see her and that Muoi would be very happy to know that I did come back. She told me, if I ever come back to Vietnam, I can come and see her. We laughed, she gave me a hug, told me "you are good man" and wished me well. As we left, walking back up the alley, Lieu took my hand and walked with me, as I was a wreck. When we got to the corner and I turned to speak to her, she was full of tears...we all had a good cry. When we got back to the hotel, Gary, bless his loving heart, shared his thoughts with me. He is a man with a knowledge and understanding of the human element that is a gift of God. He has been my savior...none of you have any idea what he has meant to me on this journey. We now have a bond that is like nothing I have ever known. Dear God, I am so blessed. He showed me the way to my closier...I love him. He pointed out to me, that obviously, she had lived there in the house that I had bought for her for the rest of her life. "Thom, that one act of love on your part, had cared for her for the rest of her life. You have to assume that she had a good life, just knowing that she lived out her life there." Like I said, Gary is someone very special in his understanding of people and life, I can never thank him enough. As for the kids, no one has a clue where they are and that is OK. Knowing that Muoi lived out her life in our house brings me peace and with that I can move on. Lieu, our interpreter is coming by this morning to have breakfast with us. She, too, is all caught up in this and wants to say goodbye before we leave. You can't imagine the emotional power that has been unleashed, as now I am still releasing.
Let me thank all of you for your support through this, as you have changed my life for the better. Lyndee, Trish and Marion, it all started with you, encouraging me to write my story. Rusty, your kindness and generosity in getting me here, you are an angel. Without Gary, I could not have managed all this. We are bonded, he has touched my soul, my brother. And to all the rest of you, who have offered your support and caring, I thank you all, I love you all.
Now, to close. Kibbey, my beautiful wife, who has endured so much with me as I worked through this. I know this could not be easy for her and yet she has been there in her own way. Honey, thank you for the love and support. You are the love of my life. I have brought this final chapter in my life to a close and look only to the future with you, not to the past. May God bless us all.

HEAVY EMOTIONS...

2009-05-10T02:38:00.000-07:00

I would like to write and tell you all that has happened today, but I can't right now. Today was very emotional and exhausting. It is difficult to just get this note out. I will tell more when I recover a little...typing is a struggle right now. I am OK, so don't worry. Please be patient with me, more will come shortly. Loving you all...
Thom
PS: Happy Mothers Day, Mom.... Love you.
Kibbey, I miss you, love you.

2009-05-09T07:45:00.000-07:00

Hello, Friends... Gary and I made it to Can Tho today, five hour drive including a ferry ride across the Mekong River. The ride was the most insane thing I have ever experienced. I have it on film and when you see it, you won't believe it. Our driver said there are four million motor bikes in Vietnam and I think he is underestimating. Ten million might be closer. I swear, I can't believe we did not see someone get killed today. Well, you will see the video and then you will understand. More about our driver. He is 30 years old, very polite and nice, born in Hanoi and moved south to work. His father is 60 and fought in the war for the North or Harnoi, he was an NVA. Truly a pleasure meeting and talking with this young man.
The Can Tho of today is one high rocking and rolling place. Kibbey, you are right, forty years is a long time and things have changed alot. Google earth is using pics that must be 10 to 20 years old. At 7pm tonight, Gary and I walked to my old neighborhood looking for the house. I did find the parking lot and "bar alley", however, where my house is supposed to be is a 3 or 4 story building. The area around my house has all filled in and I can see no remnants of my house at all. And it definately does not look like the pic from Google Earth. Tomorrow morning, we will meet with a lady who speaks good english and then go back to the neighborhood and start asking around and showing pics to see if we can find anyone who can tell us anything about them. We will be searching out the elders of the neighborhood. The young people wouldn't have a clue.
The hotel here in Can Tho is BEAUTIFUL, beyond anything I could have imagined. Truly beautiful and the food is out of this world...met the chef...fine dining. Every one we meet are so very nice and curteous...I am impressed with them as much or more than I was forty years ago. They are a kind and friendly people. So, the plan is tomorrow, we will walk the neighborhood and see what we can find. If it all strikes out, then it is what it is, but I must say, just getting this far has been really good for me. Even if I find nothing about them, it still will be closier and I am thankful for that. Well tomorrow is a big day, so I need to end this and get to bed.
Kibbey, I LOVE YOU.... more to come later. Love you all.

Thom

Just a quickie...

2009-05-08T06:28:00.000-07:00

I just got back from dinner. Gary and I had a delightful time on the 12th floor (top of the hotel) restaurant sitting out on the veranda, enjoying the view and the good food. We had the wonderful opportunity to converse with a lady who speaks rather good English. Gary and I are going to get a good night sleep and at 8:30 in the morning, we will head out for Can Tho. Tomorrow will be the real start of our purpose here. We will have an interpreter when we get to Can Tho, so that will allow us to be more effective in our quest. Thus far, it has been a wonderful experience. I can't say enough how wonderful Gary is as a partner on such a trip.... I would be really struggling with all of this if it were not for Gary. Wow, does he ever make a difference. Truly a beautiful friend. Take care and will post again tomorrow after we are in Can Tho. Love ya all.....
Thom

We have arrived...

2009-05-07T18:37:00.000-07:00

Greetings, my friends. Well we finally made it. 24 hours of flying or being at an airport. What a challenge. From Portland to Hong Kong, we never made it to business class. We traveled economy the long haul, but fortunately, they set the two of us in an isle of four seats, so we could spread out and have room for all our stuff, really wasn't too bad. However in the last four or five hours, I went to the back and laid down on the floor, where there was just enough room to be out of the isle. I thought they might roust me, however, a stewardess showed up with a blanket, got me up and laid the blanket on the floor, making a bed for me. It was so sweet. The last two and a half hours from Hong Kong to Saigon or Ho Chi Minh City, I got to fly first class. Thank you Rusty, I have never flown first-class and it was sweet. However, Gary was wearing tennis shoes and they wouldn't let him in first class. Anyway, we made it safe and sane. Rusty, the pilot flying us to Hong Kong, I believe his name was Miles, came back and talked with us and told us if we needed anything, to let him know. He said he already tried to get us into business class, but couldn't pull it off. It was very nice of you to call ahead and have Miles and Venesa, the head percer check on us. And yoga girls, Miles was the only male in the cockpit. The other three flying the 747 were three ladies...gotta be my kind of airplane. ;>)...Your the best, Rusty.
The ride from the airport to the Grand Hotel was the biggest excitement. I did see two traffic lights on the way and a short piece of road with a double yellow line, however, nobody pays any attention to any of it. If traffic stops, they just go against the on comming traffic and find a slot to squeeze through. I swear, I thought we were going to kill some of the hundreds of motor scooters, who are worse than the cars. No way on this earth would I drive over here, I wouldn't make it two blocks. Seriously, I really believe they have no traffic laws. What a ride!!!
The hotel here is very nice, especially when you look at the surroundings. People are very kind and friendly, which doesn't surprise me. Today we are spending it here in Saigon to settle in and make are next plan. After breakfast, which was excellent, Gary is off on his own photographing the streets and people...he likes to do this by himself, which works out great, because that gives me time to do this, write to all of you and simply get some needed rest before we head out for Can Tho in the morning. There is no flight to Can Tho, so at 9:30 in the morning we will be driven to Can Tho in an air conditioned car, just Gary and I and the driver. They tell us it will take about four hours, but it should be really interesting as I have never driven the route. I used to watch convoys leave our airbase making that run to Saigon, however, it was not so comfortable under those conditions...bang, bang, boom!!!
For those of you, like my mother and my wife, who may be worried about how the travel and Parkinson's is getting along....so far, so good. I am having no problems at all, at least no more than I would at home. I will attempt to get some photos posted a little later, right now I need a break and want to get this sent off. So, to all my wonderful and beautiful friends, I love you all and am thinking of you. I probably won't get the chance to post again until we get to the hotel in Can Tho tomorrow afternoon. Just know, all is well and good..... already emotional, but that is good. If you have the time to comment, it would be welcomed here. If it is easier for you to email me, that works too. tgrock@comcast.net
Till then, love ya,

Thom

The RETURN...

2009-05-01T15:26:00.000-07:00

Hello, my friends....
I must say, when I stood in the gym at Oxford among my new friends, the "Yoga Ladies", Lyndee and I discussing the story writing of our Vietnam experiences, never in a million years would I have guessed that it all would lead up to this, returning to Vietnam. From the start, the insistance and support from these ladies started me to write. Oh my, the flood gates opened and a book was born....a book that is not the work of a literary genius, but instead "my story told". I feel my book, "Silk Pajamas & Tombstone Eyes" has been well received among those who have read it. Now, it seems the energy around it has taken on a life of it's own. People are coming into my life with cause and effect that blows me away. Rusty, a new aquatance and friend enters the scene. In a matter of minutes I am exposed to his kindness, compassion and simply put, a loving soul...he offers me free airfair (standby) for two, round trip to Vietnam. Now I am faced with the unimaginable, returning to Vietnam. Two days later, I was at my dentist, Gary Gilbert, sharing with him my new and exciting development. As many questions were asked, I discover Gary is interested in going with me...he is a man of adventure, a bit of a risk taker and another loving soul. It has been decided that he will go with me and be my companion, photographer, documentarian and the truth of it all, my good friend who is looking out for me. I have never been so humbled in my life....the show of kindness and generosity leaves me overwhelmed.... Friends....friends....friends.....
I truly am blessed. So, the time is upon us, as we leave PDX Wednesday morning at 7:30 on United Airlines. Here is a short summary of what we think will be our approach. Once we have arrived in Can Tho and are settled into the hotel, we will secure a translater to travel with us. We will have camcorders and film the whole journey. We will walk to the neighborhood where we lived during the war. I will walk up to the house I bought for Muoi forty years ago, knock on the door and see who answers...could be Muoi, could be one of the kids who are now in their forties and fifties, or no one I know answers. If they are not there, then we will walk the neighborhood, talking to the residence showing pics to hopefully find someone who remembers them and knows where they went or what happened to them. As you can see, this is like walking into a dark closet and not knowing what you will encounter. Of course, why not.... it is time to go out on the edge, don't want to take up to much space. It is obvious to me, this is meant to be, I have to follow through on this as it does have a life of it's own. Come on, Gary... let's go find the edge.

I will attempt entries every day to keep you updated.

2009-01-09T18:55:00.001-08:00

Yes, I am still alive... been gone so long, I was beginning to wonder. I have now been through the cancer surgery, recovery time and am good to go. Tested out 0 cancer. Yes, I am a happy boy.
Since I have been gone, I have published my book "Silk Pajamas & Tombstone Eyes". Sunday I had my first book signing and reading at a local coffee house. I am overjoyed with the results. Let us just say I sold every book I had and took orders. The feedback I have been getting from those who have read it is very encouraging.
I must say, I have been busy getting this finished and on the market. I'm sure you can understand, the first time you do something, you won't be the quickest. You can find my book on Amazon.com and via a link at my website will work also.
I have started writing another book and I am finding myself a bit excited about it. We are going to leave it a secret for now, as I have not selected a name for it, but I am working on it. Thank you one and all.

I Will Be Back....

2008-09-16T13:00:00.000-07:00

Greetings.... I want to inform all of you that I am going in for cancer surgery tomorrow morning, so it may be a week or two before I am back writing. It has not been the most conducive time for writing, but shortly it will be again. All of us have such minor details as this that can interfere with our program. So, please bare with me and I will be back to writing on a regular basis.

I am going to provide a link here to an article that was featured in the Oregonian Newspaper this morning. I do hope you read it and enjoy it for whatever you may get from it. You may have to cut and paste to your browser. Thank you for taking the time to view this.

http://www.oregonlive.com/living/index.ssf/2008/09/turning_point_climber_makes_mo.html

Stay on your edge,

Thom

The Bunker & The Cracker Jack Kids

2008-08-20T14:20:00.000-07:00

The Bunker and the Cracker Jack Kids

The day starts like any other day in South Vietnam, much too warm for this early in the morning; the humidity is relentless and seems to challenge your every breath. I walk in the door to operations and report to the First Sergeant, ready to start my day. He informs me that I have an objective to meet, build a bunker that will hold forty men and withstand mortar and rocket attacks; build it next to the barracks.

That is my order for the week and it almost gets me, if not killed, surely beat up by my own men. The sergeant instructs me to go to the barracks and wake the men up who have just finished swing shift and graveyard, tell them to get up and work on building the bunker. I have a very bad feeling about this. This is going to be like dancing the waltz through a minefield. I start walking through the barracks, moving slow and quietly, as if I don’t want to disturb anyone, and yet, what am I doing here? I am going to wake them up, interrupt their sleep. I am about to make a very serious decision, who do I wake up first? I do not want to pick the wrong personality, someone who is bigger than me and definitely not someone who has an attitude.

After making one stealthy pass through the barracks, I approach Robert. He always seems a rather calm and rational sort. I gently shake him while speaking, “Robert,” his head rolling side to side, “Robert,” one eye opens with a squint, followed by, “Dammit Rock, what do you want?” I respond with, “You have to get up and fill sand bags for our bunker.” No surprise to me, Robert’s next words are, “Get the hell out of here if you value your fucking life, Rock.” I am trying to apologize and in the process wake up three others, who immediately take sides with Robert. There is now a chorus of threats sounding off in harmony. My survival instincts are telling me things are about to get physically ugly and I am going to be the ugly part of it all.

I retreat from the barracks, electing flight over fight and go back to the sergeant, telling him, “This is not going to work.” I continue with my plea, “Sarge, I have a possible solution to the problem, if I may.” The sergeant, despite his facial expression of doubt gives me his attention as I start to explain. “Give me a truck and four armed guards and we will go over to the P.O.W. camp and get prisoners to build our bunker. I have done a little investigating and found out we can take the prisoners for work details as long as we have one armed guard per four prisoners.” This is what I call working smarter, not harder. The sergeant’s doubting stare fades from view to be replaced with a smile and a wink: he agrees.

I take my detail of armed guards and the truck and drive into the P.O.W. camp. I check in with the American officer who oversees the compound, which is really being run by the ARVN’s (Army Republic Vietnam). He orders the prisoners into formation for our review. He identifies sixteen and has them board my truck. I am looking at their faces, eyes that tell stories they would rather not know themselves, expressions that expose an underlying theme of sadness and frustration. In their every movement, I can sense the despair, the inner cry for help, for loved ones, for family. I am just glad they are my prisoners and I am not theirs. As we drive to our barracks, I can imagine what these prisoners must be thinking: “Where are we going and for what purpose?”

As we pull up to the bunker site next to our barracks, the answers to their questions present themselves. Standing before them is the wood beam frame of the bunker they are going to build.

We unload the prisoners and line them up for a show and tell. Since they do not understand English, I demonstrate what it is we want them to do, first by setting two empty fifty-five gallon drums two deep at ground level. I gesture that this pattern be followed all the way around the framework and then fill them with sand. Next I stack a second row of drums on top of the first ones, one drum deep, filling all drums with sand. Then I start filling sand bags and stacking them in place, thicker at the bottom with a taper towards the top. Now, this is not rocket science and these prisoners know what to do and they do it well. They are not fast and I don’t blame them. I am letting them work at their own speed; the war is over for them, they are just waiting for it to end.

As the morning progresses, we have a little time to interact. I find myself taking a liking to them. Yes, they are my enemy and you are not supposed to like your enemy. I can’t help but think of my father right now. I was a small boy, maybe ten; my father was talking about World War II, when he fought the Japanese in the Pacific. He spoke with anger in his voice, “They wanted me to hate them, and I did. Then when the war was over, they wanted me to love them.” I know from further conversations that he felt used and manipulated and told me he would never hate anyone again. I can remember that so vividly, it had a strong impact on me. Now I smile and thank Dad for the insight.

It is just before lunch break; I decide to go over to our supply tent and barter for C-rations. They have candy, cigarettes and the food is not bad either, if you are hungry. I have returned for lunch and I give each one of them a box of C-rations. As I am handing out the boxes, it is obvious they have no clue what it is; time for more show and tell. I teach them how to use the P38 can opener. I open one box and take out the cigarettes; that gets their attention. The rest of them are starting into their rations, digging for the prize. They look like little kids who just got their first box of Cracker Jacks. They are acting as if it were Christmas or should I say TET, their Vietnamese New Year. For the rest of the week, they look forward to their Cracker Jacks experience. All faces are smiling. After lunch, the work pace picks up a little. We finish the day and take them back to their compound.

The next morning, we drive into the compound to get sixteen more prisoners. As we are parking the truck, I notice

that our same sixteen are right there in front. There is a little jostling going on for position, as it appears others want their spot. I would bet the stories of their day were told and many of their comrades want in on it. It’s obvious they enjoyed their day with us, plus the C-rations helped, I’m sure. When the order is given to board the truck, the same sixteen jump on as if it is a ride to freedom.

We are now starting work on the bunker and all is going well, when this southern boy named Burt, a GI out of our barracks, walks by and starts giving me shit. “Rock, you don’t know how to get work out of them. I’ll show you how you bust their ass. Just give me ten minutes with them and … ” You might say I am taking direct offense to this kind of harassment. He continues with his ignorance as he passes by us going to the barracks. I know these prisoners have no understanding of our English, but they definitely know the universal language of threatening tones and inflections in one’s voice, body language that is spelled out in stance, hands that are clenched in fists presenting vulgar gestures. When they read the eyes, the violence is known. I have had enough of him and call him down off the porch. “Burt, I am going to bust you up right here in front of them.” Words of insults and threats are being directed at my prisoners, challenges are flying, body language is talking loud and bold, and Burt and I are dancing the dance. In my emotional state, I start to hand my rifle to one of the prisoners--not a good idea. His eyes widen and his hands show he wants no part of it. Burt is not coming down the stairs to meet me, but instead disappears into the barracks. I guess I out danced him. As that confrontation ends, I turn my attention back to the prisoners. They all are smiling at me, as I am sure they understand very well what has just taken place. I will be damned if someone thinks they are going to harm and harass my prisoners, these people, especially when there is no cause for it.

It is Cracker Jacks time and we are all sitting around together interacting with sign language and any other means by which we can make ourselves understood. One thing becomes obvious and that is who is the leader of the group. He is mid twenties, tall and maybe Cambodian, not sure, but I would say he is an officer, judging how the others respond to him. We are having a pretty good time of it all, when I challenge him to a sparring fight. As I present my challenge, his expression shows he isn’t too sure about this; but what can he do, but play along. Now, I am thinking I will teach this boy a thing or two, given that I had a rather successful history in wrestling. As he and I stand up, instinctively, my guards and the prisoners make a circle around us and the challenge is on.

I must say, this is rather humbling, not to speak of embarrassing. Every move I make on him, I catch an elbow, or a fist or a foot or a knee… I cannot make a move without this guy totally kicking my ass and he never lays a hand on me. He is stopping an inch from contact, but he makes it obvious that I just took the hit. His boys are cheering, laughing and proud. My guys are giving me shit and I tell them, you can take over any time. It all ends in good humor and fun. He is a good man. We are finishing our lunch with a group photo shot, he and I in the middle, arms over shoulders and swapping hats; I am realizing just how insane this war is. We are supposed to be trying to kill each other and given what we are now experiencing, that is the last thing that any of us wants to do. I am sure a beer would be more appropriate right now.

One of them is indicating he needs a bathroom break, so I take him to the latrine. Now, our latrine has stalls and doors and is the standard American toilet. I show him the toilet and then just step out of the latrine and wait by the door. It has been a couple of minutes and I go back in to check on him. I bend over to look under the door for feet and--shit! There are no feet. I freak-out; the thought of losing a VC prisoner on our base is not a good idea and out of panic, I kick the door open. There he is, feet up on the toilet seat, squatting over it. He has a very startled look on his face and so do I. We stare at each other for a moment and then I close the door so he can finish. It then dawns on me, they don’t really know what a toilet is or at least have never seen one like ours. Their toilets are two footpads in a shallow sink of sorts with a hole that you squat over and drop in. After he finishes and comes out, we give each other a funny smile, he’s probably thinking, “Americans are strange.” The day ends with no damage.

When I take them back to the compound, there is a prisoner handcuffed to the flagpole in his underwear. I ask the officer, what is with him? “He tried to escape last night.” My response is, “What are you going to do with him?” The officer points and says, “See that tin box over in the corner of the yard? He will spend three days and nights in that.” This box is not big enough for me to get into, just big enough for a small Vietnamese to curl up and be stuffed in. Cook in it by day and can’t straighten out for three days. Damn, that is ugly.

My guards and I worked for better than a week with these same prisoners. They did a good job on the bunker, despite the attempts of harassment by Burt. I do believe they feel much the same as we do at this point. Given the opportunity to meet each other without an environment that harbors conflict and pits us against each other, we all discover that we get along just fine and actually like and enjoy each other. It is kind of sad that it is ending.

It is our last day; they bring us sandals they made from old tires. They have cut the soles out of tire treads to fit each foot. The inner-tubes are cut into straps and laced through cuts in the tread to complete the sandal. Their creative ingenuity is rather impressive. We call them Ho Chi Minh One Thousand Milers, guaranteed for one thousand miles on the Ho Chi Minh Trail. To us, these sandals are the best, just the fact that the prisoners made them for us has us all feeling pretty good. One thing my guards and I have come to understand, they are not “gooks” or anything lower than human life. They are no different than you or me. They laugh; cry, hurt and bleed just like us. This is one of the many evils of war; you are conditioned to hate and kill someone you may actually like, given the chance. I still say, I would rather we drink a beer together than fight each other over someone else’s proclaimed war. I wonder what their choice of beer would be.

The End....

Silk Pajamas & Tombstoneeyes

2008-08-20T13:43:00.000-07:00

Greetings!
I am in the process of writing a book and at this point in time, I am approximately 3/4 of the way to completion. This is an exciting time for me, as this is a new road for me to travel. Actually, all of this is new to me. Nothing like a new adventure. I am going to be presenting snippits of my book on this blog and do welcome your comments. My book is named "Silk Pajamas & Tombstone Eyes".