Page 159 - Echo 127

sometimes caves. No, this was not a pretty war—not that any war ever is—this war was ugly and for many of us the unspoken word was —unwinnable—a word that Marines never use but it’s a word I thought and kept to myself. I realized that I had done my best —to keep my troops alive and accomplish our missions and done so in keeping with the traditions and customs of the United States Marine Corps and we had done it ‘the right way’!
I’ll forever appreciate the ‘little things’ that makes life go around—the hot shower, hot food, clean water, cold drinks, a safe place to sleep, a comfortable bed and not having to ‘duck’ when I heard a loud noise. I had been ‘lucky’—blessed and unable to comprehend how I had somehow ‘dodged’ the bullets, the mines, the mortars and although I had been injured several times I was always able to continue to function. I appreciate being alive and in one piece—grateful for one more day—one day at a time. I had moments of prayer and I feel those prayers were answered—there were a couple of times when I know there was ‘divine intervention’—I know when those happened and I’ll always keep those moments near and dear to my heart . People that know me best know I’m not a ‘religious’ type but they don’t see what’s inside —we all worship in our own way—I know what happened to me and that’s all that’s important.
I turned in my 782 gear and my trusty .45 pistol that I had carried since it was issued to me at Camp Las Pulgas in Aug. 1964. I had slept with that pistol — carried it everywhere I went ( in Viet Nam ). It never let me down and saved my life at least on one occasion. I carried a few personal belongings but I was
159