THE SKY IS FALLING!!!

THE SKY IS FALLING!!!

Or maybe.....

THE WORLD IS COMING TO AN END!!!

THE WORLD IS COMING TO AN END!!!

There is just can't be any other explanation for the miracle that happened last week.

What miracle you ask?

MY SON CLEANED HIS ROOM!!!!

No, not just cleaned it, HE CLEANED IT!!!

Friday I got home a little late, okay, a lot late. Next to the front door is this pile of six large bags of old clothes.



Then I walk into the kitchen and I see this huge pile of trash.



I know it wasn't there when I left. WTF is this all about? Is Brian making a few dollars taking in other people's garbage, or what? Brian was in bed so I asked him about it the next afternoon when he got up.

"I'm cleaning my room", he said.

If I hadn't have been sitting down, I'd have fallen down. You see, Brian has never cleaned his room. I think the last time it was cleaned was when he graduated 6th grade, well, okay, maybe 7th grade, but not since then.

I was sitting in the den and Brian walked by carrying something downstairs. I gave him a glance as he walks by. A minute or so later, he walks by carrying something else. Now he has my attention.

"Brian, what are you doing?"

"I told you, I'm cleaning my room", he said.

I get up and walk in his room and see his girl friend dusting the shelves he keeps his collection of turtles and shot glasses. (I know, collecting turtles and shot glasses doesn't make any sense to me either)

I just walk quietly away as not to spoil the mood.

A few of hours goes by and they say their done. I walk into Brian's room and was shocked! Shocked I tell you!

I look in the closet, It's practically empty. The shelves under his loft bed are cleaned off and I can actually see there is a desk top and shelves. The crap all over, under, around and through all the furniture in his room is gone. Carpet! I forgot he had carpet on the floor of his room.

I practically broke down in tears and give Brian and his Cheryl big hugs.

"What brought this on" I asked.

Cheryl said, "His room was a pig sty and I couldn't stand it anymore."

Hey, anyone know the Pope? I have a young lady I want to nominate for sainthood, because God knows, Cheryl performed a miracle.

My BIG News!

BTExpress is retiring. I gave my two weeks notice at work today. Who's up for a visit?

Please help

A little over a week ago, a fellow blogger Jodes, posted a message asking for help in raising money for the Breast Cancer 3 day Walk she is participating in this in November. Please consider donating to this worthy cause.

This an email I received from her.

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This year, I'll be participating in a very special event called the Breast Cancer 3-Day. I'll walk 60 miles over the course of three days with thousands of other women and men. The net proceeds will support breast cancer research, education, screening and treatment through the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation and the National Philanthropic Trust Breast Cancer Fund.

I've agreed to raise at least $2,200 in donations. I've set my personal goal at $3000. So I need your help. Would you please consider making a donation? I realize that some of you barely know me or only know me thru the Blog World, but I consider all of you my friends and would be so thankful for anything that you can give. I also totally understand if you cannot donate, no pressure. Your words of encouragement are plenty. Here is the link:

http:///">http://www.the3day.org/SanDiego06/jelliott

According to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation, approximately 200,000 American women will be diagnosed with breast cancer this year, and nearly 40,000 will die from the disease. That's why I'm walking so far. To do something bold about breast cancer. I look forward to hearing from each of you.
Thank you in advance for your generosity!

Sincerely,
Jodi

50th Birthday Party Last Night

Arlene and I went to the 50th birthday party of one of her co-workers last night at their Temple. We were looking forward to it because Tony, the birthday boy, told her there would be music, food and a bar. Great we thought, 50th birthday parties are always a lot of fun right? We weren't going to know anyone except Tony, so we were going to treat it like a night out on a date.

Katy, a young lady that Arlene works with, and her good friend, came along so we enjoyed talking among ourselves while everyone arrived. We had a drink and when the food was ready, we ate some of that and had a couple of more drinks. The drinks and food turned out to be pretty good. They had a lot of different appetizers which is always fine with me.

The music consisted of a CD player on the floor playing Frank Sinatra tunes, so dancing was out of the question. Everyone sat around 6 or 8 large round tables and almost never moved from their seats. Katy left after about an hour, so Arlene and I chatted and counted the minutes until we could get out of there and go dancing somewhere else.

That was pretty much the highlight of the party. Well, there were these two ladies at our table from the temple that I thought were going to start mixing it up, but no luck. They just got catty and made snide remarks to each other all night.

A little before 10:00, we managed to leave. On the way out, Tony's wife handed each of us a goodie bag. How cool is that? We wondered what cool things they put in 50th birthday goodie bags. I was driving so Arlene checked out the goodie bag. The contents matched the mood of the party to a tee. It contained a few pieces of candy and a yo yo. Yes, that's what I said, candy and a yo yo. WTF was that all about? The frigging yo yo wasn't even a Duncan.

I drove over to the bar & grill near her we have been going to. They usually have music Saturday nights, but not last night. They were hosting a party instead. It just didn't seem like it was going to be our night, but as usual, we enjoy each other's company so we still had a good time. Later that evening, the young woman that lives across the street from Arlene, and the woman's sister, came in. The four of us had a good time talking until the bar closed around 1:30.

After I took Arlene home, I stopped at McDonald's on for an early breakfast of cheese burgers, fries and a diet coke. I had a 25 minute ride ahead of me on the highway, so I just set the cruise control for 62mph, listened to some oldies and enjoyed my breakfast.

Everyone was passing me of course, but I was in no hurry. I had a good time and just wanted to enjoy the ride and going back over the night in my mind.

I saw two people zoom by me at a high rate of speed, which, of course, very quickly by flashing lights and pulled over. That gave me a good laugh.

Happy Hour

Yesterday after work, a bunch of us got together at a local bar for Happy Hour. They had live music and the place was packed. I got there about 6:30. I stayed about 2 hours and then Scott and I headed over to a place closer to home called Kenny's. It's the place I have been going to most of the time when I go out now. My first long night there was after my company Christmas party.

Remember my 10 hours of drinking story? Well, last night was pretty much of a repeat, except I only drank for 7 1/2 hours and stayed away from the Southern Comfort shots this time, but did have a few shots of this blue stuff. Not really sure what it was, but tasty none the less.

When we got to Kenny's I was hungry, so Kenny made me a salad, stuffed shrimp scampi and pasta with white clam sauce. Just a little salad I asked, but he didn't keep his promise. I already finished the salad when I took this picture, but trust me it filled a large dinner plate.

I have to say, that was the best shrimp scampi I have ever eaten and I've eaten a lot of shrimp scampi. He was going to give me the recipe but I forgot to get it from him.

Scott's wife and her sister showed up around 9:30 but only stayed about a 1/2 hour because since Scott can't drink right now, he wanted to leave so they all left, but I stayed. You didn't expect me to go home, did you? Why go home? It was Friday night in a place that treats me like family, great food and a live band at 10:30.

Now this band was great, not like the one I heard there about two weeks ago. This band played music from the 60's, 70's and 80's and were terrific and played some of my all time favorites. Not being exactly shy, I introduced myself to the band during their breaks and they introduced me to most of their friends that came to hear them.

I was really enjoying myself talking to everyone. Then to top it all off, one of the women they knew went up to sing, "You May Be Right" by Billy Joel. I walked over to the dance floor to get a better view. I started singing along and "moving to the beat" so to speak and as soon as I did, she spotted me and pulled me out on the dance floor up in front of the band. I am not exactly what you would call shy, so out on the dance floor I went. It was empty so we had it all to ourselves.

I wish you all could have seen me, I really got into it. We were dancing and singing the song together. I stayed as far away from the microphone as I could, because I don't sing very well, but sing I did and danced like a dancing fool.

She was spinning around like this and I have no idea how she kept from getting her feet caught in the microphone cord. Yes, we really got into it.

When the song ended, she gave me a big hug and when I turned around to go back to the bar, I saw almost everyone had gotten up and had gathered around the dance floor to watch and were applauding. I'm sure most of it was for her, but I was thinking maybe a little of it was for me, the "Singing and Dancing Fool" that was having a ball.

The band stopped about 2AM, so I asked Billy the bartender how much I owed him. "Give me $25", he said. Obviously not enough, so I negotiated him up to $40, plus the $20 I'd given him earlier for the blue stuff shots I shared with a young couple I'd met.

Damn, it felt good to dance again. Tonight I'm hoping to get to dance some more. I'm going to a 50th birthday party for someone Arlene works with. It's at a hall and they're having music so let's see how it goes.

Happy Little Family HNT

Here is a picture of our happy little happy family on Baby Brian's 1 month birthday on May 26, 1982, . We took pictures like this on the 26th of each month for the first year and then on Brian's birthday, April 26th, each year for many years there after.

Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday Everyone!!!

Click on the boobs of the lady in red lady if you want to check out some more half-nekkid pics!

My Fractured Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, in a far off land called New York, there were a bunch of castles in a sprawling housing development named Riviera Ridge. Riviera Ridge was in the sleepy little town of Smithtown way, way, far, far out on an island named Long Island. In the large castle at 10 North Ingelore Court in Smithtown there lived a family of four boys and a mom and dad. The two youngest boys were stepbrothers and best friends. Their best friend was a boy named Gary who lived a just a few blocks from them. Tony was the oldest at 16 and Eddie and Gary were both 15. The boys lived so close to each other that they could stand out on the front stoop of their castles and by yelling really, really, really loud, they could talk to each other. Why didn't they just use the telephone you ask? No way, yelling was much cooler and it pissed their mom's off, but that's what teenage boys do, so what did you expect.

Riveria Ridge was just a few years old, so more castles were still being built near by. So of course with new castles, new roads were being built, which in turn meant the water run off from the roads, needed a place to go. So that meant some of the scrub oak forest had to be bull dozed and a large sump dug. The sump was only about 200 yards and across the street from the castle at 10 North Ingelore Court on the other side of what was left of the scrub oak forest.

Then one cold winter night on the 31st of January in year 1965, it snowed and sleeted, which meant that Tony, Eddie and Gary might be able to go sledding the next day. The three best friends woke up nice and early the next morning, well, not that early, heck, it might not of even been morning for all I know. You see, Tony, Eddie and Gary liked to sleep a lot.

Eventually when the three best friends did get up, they looked outside and saw that a couple of inches of snow covered the ground. I know that's not much, but with the sleet, the surface of the snow was a frozen sheet of ice, so they decided it was good enough to give sledding a shot.

After the three best friends eventually got their asses out of bed, they got their sleds and decided that first they would go over to the sump to see if they could go sledding there. The sump was new so it wasn’t fenced in yet. If that were no good, they would go over to Blueberry Hill. (I have no frigging clue why they called it Blueberry Hill, because there weren't any blueberries there)

They met up at the castle at 10 North Ingelore Court and then walked through, what was left of the scrub oak forest, over to the sump. "Let's give it a shot!" they decided. They knew if they picked their spots carefully, they could avoid the exposed lumps of sand and go all the way down the side and most of the way across the bottom of the sump.

So off they went! Oh what fun the three best friends were having zipping down the side of the sump and even falling off once in a while after the sled stuck in the sand. That was the most fun, sliding across the ice snow and getting very dirty and ....laughing all the way...Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells.... woops, got side tracked here. Sorry.

When the three best friends wore out one spot, they moved around the sump looking for new places to go sledding. They were starting to run out of places to try, when one of the boys discovered the bestest spot ever. What a beautiful sight to behold it was. There was a largest pile of sand covered in snow you ever did see just off to one side of the sump. (okay, maybe I'm exaggerating her, but it's my fairy tale, so shut up)

The three best friends took turns climbing up to the top of the large pile of snow covered sand and then raced down the side of the pile of sand on their sleds, across the flats and then down the side of the sump. They were so excited, but the fun didn’t last very long, maybe two trips each. You see, the sleds wore away the snow very quickly, exposing more and more sand and it became tougher and tougher to make it down the hills and into the sump.

The got discouraged at how crappy the sledding had become at the sump, so they decided to leave the sump and go over to Blueberry Hill and see how the sledding was there. But Tony wanted to try one last run. Gary and Eddie started yelling at Tony because the sleds were getting stuck, the sledding sucked and it wasn’t safe anymore, but Tony just ignored their warnings and climbed up that large pile of sand for one last run. Little did Tony know that this run would turn out to be his last one that winter.

Just as Tony took off, Eddie, his best friend and step brother, yelled out, “I warned you! I hope you get killed!” Gary and Eddie started to walk away and figured that Tony would catch up when he was done.

The last thing Tony remembers was seeing the large patch of sand right in front of him at the top edge of the sump. Tony tried to avoid the sand but alas, no such luck. The sled stuck hard and fast in the sand and Tony slid forward off the sled rolling head first down the ice and snow covered hill and all the way to the bottom of the sump.

Gary and Eddie turned to see if Tony was coming yet, but they didn’t see him. They called to Tony to hurry up, because they wanted to get going, but Tony didn’t answer. They called again, but he still didn’t answer. So Gary and Eddie walked over to the sump to see what was taking Tony so long and saw him lying motionless in the bottom of the sump with blood on the ice and snow around him. “OMG! HE”S DEAD!” Eddie said to Gary. “I DIDN’T MEAN IT, I WAS JUST MAD! I HOPE HE’S NOT REALLY DEAD!”

Gary and Eddie raced down the side of the sump and found Tony lying unconscious face down in the ice and snow in a pool of blood, they both thought he was really dead. Tony's face was very bloody and cut up pretty badly. Eddie stayed with Tony and Gary ran back to the castle to get help. Gary ran back to the castle at 10 North Ingelore Court and in the front door screaming “TONY’S BEEN HURT, I THINK HE’S DEAD!” Tony’s father was down stairs in his jeans, tee shirt and slippers watching TV and Tony’s stepmother was sitting in the kitchen in her bathrobe smoking, reading and drinking coffee like usual.

Tony’s dad ran up the stairs lickity split and grabbed his coat and dashed out the door. He followed Gary to the sump running through the frozen snow still in his slippers. They got to Tony and saw that no, he was not dead, just unconscious but bleeding quite a bit from all the cuts on his face and from his mouth. Tony’s dad picked up Tony and carried him back to the carriage in the castle driveway and put him in the front seat of the carriage (motor powered not horse drawn, it is 1965 you know). By now Tony’s step mom had gotten dressed and was waiting outside when they got back to the castle.

They all got in the carriage. Dad was driving, Tony was in the middle in the front seat and his step mom was holding him with a towel on his face soaking up the blood and Eddie and Gary were in the backseat. They drove up into town to the doctor’s office and Gary ran inside to get the doctor. The doctor came out, took one look at Tony and told them to go to the emergency room. They drove over to the ER at Smithtown General Hospital in the village of Hauppauge about five miles away, down Maple Avenue and then on down Route 111 to the hospital at the corner of Route 111 and the Smithtown Bypass.

On the way to the hospital, Tony remembers waking up briefly and asking what had happened. He could see they were in the car driving somewhere, but went right back out again. Tony doesn’t remember anything until he woke up in his bed in the hospital.

Tony spent a few days in the hospital because he had a severe concussion and needed a few stitches to close up a split upper lip. In case your worried, Tony fully recovered from the sledding accident and was still the hottest looking boy in the kingdom after his face healed. Tony also went sledding many more times in the winters since then, just not in the sump. They fenced it off very soon after this happened.

BUT WAIT, boys and girls, the story doesn’t end there.

The next day, Eddie and Gary went back down into the sump and scooped up all the bloody snow, put it in a plastic bag and put the bag in the freezer downstairs in the castle freezer. They wanted to save it to show Tony when he got out of the hospital. When Tony saw it, he thought it was just about the coolest thing he had ever seen. When Tony's friends came over, Tony showed them the bag of bloody snow and they all thought it was very cool too, well except for the girls. You see, the girls in the development were sissies and thought things like bloody snow, frogs, snakes and dragons were gross. (yes, dragons. I did say the three best friends lived in castles didn’t I?) Well, there was one girl named Jean that wasn’t a sissy. Jean was bigger and tougher than all the boys in the kingdom and had been known to kick a few of their asses from time to time. She was from New York City and a very, very tough young broad.

Tony left the snow in the freezer for many months and only took it out for show and tell from time to time. Then one day, Tony’s step mom found it while rearranging things in the freezer.

“TONY, EDDIE, GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!” she yelled. “Oh, shit! What did we do now”, the boys said to each other. I hope she didn't find the cigarettes.

Well, Tony and Eddie slowly made their way down stairs and saw their mom holding the plastic bag full of bloody snow. “WHAT IS THIS!” she demanded to know. “It’s the snow from when Tony fell off of the sled” Eddie said.

“WHAT!!!! WHAT IS IT DOING IN MY FREEZER?!” she roared. “Gary and Eddie saved it for me so I could see how much blood there was. I thought it was cool, so I kept it”, Tony said.

“TAKE IT OUTSIDE AND GET RID OF IT THIS INSTANT!” she yelled while handing the plastic bag filled with what was by now, a red lump of ice to Tony. “But I want to keep it” Tony said.

That went over like a lead balloon and his step mom said :“I SAID GET RID OF IT!” at the top of her lungs. “AND AFTER YOU GET RID OF IT, I WANT YOU TWO TO GO TO YOUR ROOM AND STAY THERE UNTIL YOUR FATHER GETS HOME!” “Oh great” they thought, now their father is going to kill them, or worse, ground them. So Tony and Eddie, the two best friends and step brothers, went back upstairs to their room to wait for their father to get home.

When their father came home, Tony and Eddie could hear him and their mom talking down stairs for a while, and pretty soon they heard their dad's size 13 lineman’s boots stomping up the stairs. He barged right in to Tony and Eddie’s room without knocking and closed the door behind him and stood there glaring at Tony and Eddie.

Now just picture this, (just setting the mood you know) two very frightened, skinny little15 and 16 year old stepbrothers and best friends, sitting close together on the edge of the bed, staring up at their six foot three inch, 200-something pound bear of a father with a look in his eyes that could kill. At first their dad just stood there for a minute glaring at them. The two stepbrothers just looked at him waiting for the lecture and the eventual consequences they would suffer.

Then they strangest thing happened, a smile started to show on their dad’s face and then he busted out laughing. The two stepbrothers turned and looked at each other with the “WTF is happening” kind of look. It seems their dad thought it was just as cool as the two stepbrothers and all their friends did. Except all the girls still thought it was gross the sissies, but don't include Jean or she'll kick your ass. Remember, she was from New York City and a very, very tough young broad.

Then they all lived happily ever after in that far off land called New York, in that sprawling housing development named Riviera Ridge, in that sleepy little town of Smithtown, way, way, far, far out on the island named Long Island, in the large castle at 10 North Ingelore Court in Smithtown.

Now that’s the end.

No Dancing Last Night

I know you all were looking forward to hearing all about my date to go out dancing with Arlene last night, but something came up and we couldn't go.

I spent the evening writing another chapter of my Vietnam story instead, so all was not lost. That may not be a consolation unless you look forward to my stories.

Getting my ass in gear

Yep, I'm finally getting my ass in gear. After Barbara passed away, I got into the mode where I just didn't feel like doing anything, but I'm now actually starting to do the things home owners are suppose to do around the house. Things like cooking, cleaning, shopping, laundry, things like that.

After the first week, I went back to work, which was good, because it distracted me. Each night I'd stop on my way home from work to get something to eat. It was always the same, have a few beers and eat dinner while I read the newspaper. Then I'd go home and sit on my ass and do nothing, not even going on the weekend.

After about 1 1/2 month of eating out everyday, it finally dawned on me that I was wasting the $30 to $50 a day eating out, so I started going home after work and eating something frozen or eat take out I'd have delivered. Once in a while I'd go shopping and stock up on the necessities and more frozen food. Sometimes if I was ambitious, I'd buy a pound of chopped meat and make a Hamburger Helper or something like that. I usually didn't cook it and wound up tossing it out a week later.

By now I was doing laundry one in a while but only if I absolutely had to and ran out of something. Brian had picked up the slack with that, but he was hardly ever home since he had a girlfriend, so it just didn’t get done.

One day around this time, I took a good look at my clothes and realized how shabby they looked. I hadn’t bought any in years, yes years, so I shopped on line and bought almost $900 worth, I even bought new shoes.

Then on Saturday November 6th, I had my first big step in getting back to normal and spent the night out listening to live music and didn’t get home until around 2 AM. I remember chatting with the bartender and the two guys next to me and buying their CD. Damn that felt good. I told you about this right after it happened.

Around this time Brian and his friends were turning the garage into a clubhouse. A bunch of them would come over at night and have small parties. I popped in one night on November 12th to say hello and was introduced to an interesting game call Beer Pong. That evening started to get me back into a partying mood.

The next big step and I think the biggest one, was the day we had our company Christmas party on Friday, December 16th. Briefly, since you’ve heard this one too, I started drinking at 4 PM, after the party my friend Scott from work convinced me to go with his wife and best friend to a bar/grill near where we live. I spent the rest of the night listening to a Santana knockoff band, flirting with Scott’s wife and the ladies behind the bar and eating free food the owners swiped from an IRS party the were catering. Then around 12:30 AM small group of 21 year old firemen came in and I drank more beer and about 6 or 7 shots of Southern Comfort before leaving and getting home around 2 AM. Of course I suffered the next day or two, but it was the best kind of suffering. Because it felt so good to actually be back to my old self for that one evening. It was then that I decided to get my life moving forward again. Thanks Scott, for convincing me to go with you guys.

Right after Barbara died, I said I would know when I ready to start going out and dating again, when I could talk about Barbara and what she went through, without getting upset and crying. The night of the Christmas party was the first time I realized I could do just that. I’m still overly emotional about things I see or read about, but not about that. Now I decided I was ready to move on.

Then about 2 ½ weeks ago I took the day off to just hangout. It was Brian’s day off so I actually got to spend more than two minutes with him. I remember him getting up, walking into the kitchen in his bare feet and then yelling, “WTF is all over the floor? It’s all sticky?”

“I spilled something last night and I guess I did clean it up very well.” I said. “I’ll clean it up.”

“NO, I’ll do it, where’s the bucket?” he said rather loudly. “This place is a pig sty!”

You know what, he was absolutely correct. The house had not been cleaned at all since the Friday before Barbara died which was October 14th, three months ago. Brian turned into a cleaning madman and cleaned the whole house, vacuum, dust, polish, mop the floors and even cleaned the big mirror over the sink in the bathroom. He would let me do anything so I just sat at the computer watching him for the next couple of hours and felt ashamed of myself. Ashamed that I had been so neglectful.

His yelling at me was just the thing I needed to snap me back to reality. I would have never been able to get away with that stuff while Barbara was alive, either her, or her caregivers would get on my case when I slacked off, so I kept up with things. I really needed that from him.

Then Thursday morning, about a week and a half ago I read an email just before I left for work and then a second one when I got home that evening. They were from a woman not too far from me that had read my MySpace profile and was interested in meeting me. We met, went to the high school and saw a show and then had dinner one night and have talked for too many hours to count since we met. You know her, Arlene (aka, SassyLadi). She really is a wonderful person and very pretty, so don’t listen to her when she says she’s not.

Yesterday I started catching up on the massive pile of laundry downstairs and put in another load when I got up this morning and another one just now. That’s another thing, I’m actually getting up at a reasonable hour on the weekends and not sleeping my life away anymore.

So my friends, lets all say hello to the old BTExpress, because I’m BACK!!!!!

GOOD MORNING VIETNAM! Chapter Seventeen

Chapter 17: My Purple Heart & the Telegram

The morning after my surgery, the batallion First Sergeant came to see me and award me my Purple Heart. He told me they were also putting me in for a Bronze Star, but I told him I didn’t want it. I didn’t really think I did anything to deserve it and I would feel guilty taking something that so many others had earned. He disagreed but said he would do as I asked.

I asked him about all the other guys that got wounded and he filled me in. A couple of men were only wounded slightly and would be back out with our unit in no time. The rest required more care so would be sent somewhere else to recover and possibly go home. The sergeant pinned my purple heart to my pillow as all I was wearing were bandages and there was no place else to put it. Here’s a picture of my Purple Heart.


One of the other men in my squad came in to see that morning too. He was walking with the help of a cane. He had gotten a large piece of shrapnel in his thigh and would fully recover. He didn’t have that long left in his tour in Vietnam so they were sending him home in a couple of weeks after the wound healed.

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Now I take you to the kitchen in my house in Smithtown, New York sometime that same day.

My step mother was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee, smoking a cigarette and reading the Sunday morning Long Island Press like she did ever Sunday. Something caught her attention outside, so she looked out the window and saw a car stopping in front of the house she didn’t recognize. A man got out, walked up to the door and rang the bell. Not really giving it much thought, she answered the door and the man told her he had a telegram for her. Her heart sank, because she was afraid it had bad news about me. At first she refused to even take it she told me, because she didn’t want to know what it said, but then signed for the telegram and went back into the kitchen and sat back down at the table. She put the telegram on the table and just stared at it. Many things ran through her mind as she just sat there staring at it.


Finally gathering the courage, she opened the telegram and read it.

(Click on it to enlarge)

My step mother couldn’t believe what she had just read, so she just sat there and cried trying to comprehend what the telegram said. Sometime later my father got home and saw her sitting at the table crying. She told him I had been wounded and just handed him the telegram. I remember them telling me that even though it said I wasn’t seriously wounded, it didn’t read like that so they didn’t know what to think. My step mother called my mother in Michigan to break the news to her and my younger sister.

They tried to get more information about my condition by calling their Congressman the next week, but he couldn’t help them. He told them they would just have to wait and hope I would call them soon. I did call eventually, but it was about a week before I was able to use a phone to call them.

My Deer HNT

After we bought our boat in early 1994, spent almost every weekend at Watch Hill on Fire Island where we docked our boat in the marina. Watch Hill had a large marina, a beach on both the Great South Bay and the Atlantic Ocean, camp grounds, a nature walk, restraunt, snack bar and a bar. If you walked a few hundred yards east on the ocean beach side, you entered the wilderness area of Fire Island. The wilderness area on Fire Island is the only wilderness area in NY State as I recall.

But there was one thing I didn’t like about Watch Hill, it was those damn deer. They were infested the Lyme disease carrying ticks. They weren’t afraid of people at all, as I guess you can tell by this picture. One day we were eating at one of the picnic tables and the person next to me got up. A minute or so later, one of the deer tried to eat the food right off the table next to me. I reached over, smacked it on the nose and it took off. Damn deer!

Date Update

I want to start out by saying your comments these last few days have overwhelmed me. I do know that my blog has slowly gained popularity over time and my friendship with many of you has developed into something very real, but this outpouring of love and compassion is something I really didn't expect from so many of you. I am truly humbled by this. I am so fortunate to have you all in my life and wouldn't trade you for anything. I really do love you all and look forward so much to meeting many of you when we get together later this year. Be prepared for many hugs and kisses. :-D

Now about last night.

I met Arlene for dinner about 6:30 last night at a place near her after I got off of work. It is her favorite place to go so she knows everyone there. I met everyone and they treated me like I was an old friend. I love going to places like that. There's a place by me that does the same thing and I'm going to start going there a lot more.

We had a few drinks and ate dinner. We had the same thing; Salmon in a potato crust on a bed of spinach and some rice. They even served home made bread. Everything was delicious. Around 10:00 Arlene's son came in so I got to meet him. What a terrific young man and can he sing. He is going to a college upstate and studying voice. Arlene played some music from the juke box (do they still call it that?) and he sang a few songs for us. He was so much better than all of the kids on the American Idol show we watched on TV earlier. The bar has 10 TVs all around the bar.

We all talked and had a great time and the next thing you know it was 12:30 so we left. It was one of the best times I've had in years. It's been a long time and I've forgotten how much fun life can really be. I can't wait for Saturday.

Sorry I missed posting tonight...

...but something more important came up. Uh, like dinner with Arlene. :-)

I just got home and it's late, so I will talk to you tomorrow.

Update: Post Big Date

Let me introduce Arlene to those that not seen her picture on her MySpace web page. Not only is she very attractive, but is also a terrific lady and we have hit it off very, very well. Today we emailed back and forth and even exchanged recipes at one point. The more we talked, the more we found we have in common. I mean so much in common it was scary.

Tonight we talked on the phone for a couple of hours at least, I lost track of the time so who knows how long it really was. I wanted her to know exactly who I am so at one point, I took her around my blog and even introduce her to many of you. I showed her your date comments and all the nice things you are saying these last couple of days about my date. All of your comments gave her a very good feeling about who I really am. I know you know me for who I am, but understandably she is cautious. Thanks.

I showed her the HNT pictures of my ass and others, and even the scar pics in Chapter 16 of my Vietnam story, which is the most visually offensive part of my body. I wanted her to know the BTE you all know and love. No secrets. She got a big kick out of my willingness to show all sides of me here and nothing she saw bothered her. Matter a fact, she liked it because it showed how open I am and how much fun I really can be when I cut loose. (FYI: Look out for nekkid ass mooning shots at our get together later this year. I hope I won't be the only one flashing my ass and other nekkid parts of my body if you really want me too. *cough*I can be bought for liquor and tips*cough* ;-)

While we were talking, she put me on speaker phone to do something and I had her, her son and a lady friend of her son laughing their asses off. I could hear them telling Arlene they though I sounded like a lot of fun and was funny. (Got to get on the good side of the kids too you know)

That's about it for today's update, except we are definitely on for next Friday night for dancing.

My Big Date

I know you are all dying to find out how my big date went with Arlene, so here are all the juicy details.

Since this was my first date, out side of dating Barbara, in about 35 years, I was kind of nervous. Not so much at meeting someone new, but with just going on a date. I wanted to make a good impression, so I fixed myself all up. I shined my shoes and even ironed my clothes. Yep, I even ironed my clothes.



Here’s the finished product. I fix up good, huh?

(Take note SisB, that there isn’t any porn on the TV. See, I told you I don’t always have porn on the TV.)

This is the musical comedy we saw.

We met at the high school. She got up there early to get the tickets and make sure we had good seats. When I got there she was standing right inside the front door waiting for me. I was on time BTW, always am. I recognized her right away because she looks just like her profile picture on My Space. I must say I was very impressed. She really is as pretty as her picture, more so even, with a great smile and she looked great.

The doors to the auditorium weren’t open when we went in so we stood around and chatted. That went well with no awkward moments of silence. Matter of fact, it was that way the whole night. The more we talked, the more I found we had in common, which is probably the reason why we always found something to talk about.

When the doors opened, we went in and sat down. The seats were really good, center section, right on the aisle. In a little while, a couple sat down in front of us. The man kind of tall, in front of Arlene and the woman, with this poofed up massive head of hair. We looked at each other at the same time with the same thought, “No longer that great a view of the stage”.

Ms. Poofy Hair never stopped eating the whole night. She had brought a plastic bag full of food, so as soon as the lights when down low, she started eating. About 15 minutes before the played ended, her and her husband, at least I assume it was her husband, got up and left. Arlene commented that she didn’t understand how they could leave before the end. I figure she probably ran out of food and needed to refill the bag.

The play was really good and I enjoyed it a lot. I won’t get into what it was about, but let’s just say all the kids did a great job and the kids that played the leads were very talented. Singing, dancing, good timing on the jokes, all very well done.

Went the play ended I asked her if she wanted to get some coffee and she said yes. We went to a diner not far up the road, drank coffee and talked some more for about two hours. Still no moments of awkward of silence, so that went well too.

We walked to the cars, I opened her door for her like I always do. I asked her if she wanted to go out again and she said yes. “Woo Hoo! I made a good impression”. I asked her to go dancing, since that’s something we both enjoying doing. That got a big smile from her. It seems men just don’t dance all that much (DUH!). I’ll call her later today and see what we can arrange.

Guess who has a date Saturday night?

Can you guess who it is?

Can't figure it out I'll bet, so I'll give you a hint.

His initials are B.T.E.

Got it yet?

No?

It's me silly.

I met her on My Space. Her name is Arlene and is very pretty.

This is for my lady friends

One flaw in a woman:

By the time the Lord made woman,

He was into his sixth day of working overtime.

An angel appeared and said,

"Why are you spending so much time on this one?"

And the Lord answered, "Have you seen my spec sheet on her?

She has to be completely washable, but not plastic,

have over 200 movable parts, all replaceable

and able to run on diet coke and leftovers,

have a lap that can hold four children at one time,

have a kiss that can cure anything from a scraped knee to a broken heart

-and she will do everything

with only two hands."

The angel was astounded at the requirements.

"Only two hands!? No way!

And that's just on the standard model?

That's too much work for one day.

Wait until tomorrow to finish."

But I won't," the Lord protested.

"I am so close to finishing this creation that is so close to my own
heart.

She already heals herself when she is sick

AND can work 18 hour days."

The angel moved closer and touched the woman.

"But you have made her so soft, Lord."

"She is soft," the Lord agreed,

"but I have also made her tough.

You have no idea what she can endure or accomplish."

"Will she be able to think?", asked the angel.

The Lord replied,

"Not only will she be able to think,

she will be able to reason and negotiate."

The angel then noticed something,

and reaching out, touched the woman's cheek.

"Oops, it looks like you have a leak in this model.

I told you that you were trying to put too much into this one."

"That's not a leak,"

the Lord corrected,

"that's a tear!"

"What's the tear for?" the angel asked.

The Lord said, "The tear is her way of expressing her joy,

her sorrow, her pain, her disappointment, her love,

her loneliness, her grief and her pride."

The angel was impressed.

"You are a genius, Lord.

You thought of everything!

Woman is truly amazing."

And she is!

Women have strengths that amaze men.

They bear hardships and they carry burdens,

but they hold happiness,

love and joy.

They smile when they want to scream.

They sing when they want to cry.

They cry when they are happy

and laugh when they are nervous.

They fight for what they believe in.

They stand up to injustice.

They don't take "no" for an answer

when they believe there is a better solution.

They go without so their family can have.

They go to the doctor with a frightened friend.

They love unconditionally.

They cry when their children excel

and cheer when their friends get awards.

They are happy when they hear about

a birth or a wedding.

Their hearts break when a friend dies.

They grieve at the loss of a family member,

yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left.

They know that a hug and a kiss

can heal a broken heart.

Women come in all shapes, sizes and colors.

They'll drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you

to show how much they care about you.

The heart of a woman is what makes the world keep turning.

They bring joy, hope and love.

They have compassion and ideals.

They give moral support to their family and friends.

Women have vital things to say and everything to give.

HOWEVER, IF THERE IS ONE FLAW IN WOMEN,

IT IS THAT THEY FORGET THEIR WORTH.

PLEASE pass this along to all your women friends and relatives

to remind them just how amazing they are.

I received this poem in an email this evening and when I read the last line, I immediately thought of those of you that have forgotten how special you really are. I can see it, I just wish you could too. Maybe this will help you to see it.

I love you all

Tony

Okay, here you go

I know the suspense was killing y'all, so here is Chapter 16 of my story.

GOOD MORNING VIETNAM! Chapter Sixteen

Chapter 16: 12th Evac Hospital at Cu Chi - Recovery

When I opened my eyes again to tell the doctor not too cut on me until I was a sleep, I was in a different room and there was a nurse standing next to me in fatigues, not that green operating room outfit they wear. I still said “Don’t cut on me untill I’m a sleep.”

“The surgery’s over. Your in recovery now,” she tells me.

“Am I okay?” I asked.

“Surgery went well and your going to be fine,” she assurded me.

“What happened to me?” I asked.

“Here take a look.” And she reaches behind my head lifting it a little so I can see my body. I was completely wrapped in bandages except on my right arm. I looked like a frigging mummy.

“Wow, I got fucked up!” I said without thinking.

“She says with a little giggle, “Uh, yeah, I guess you did.”

I was very thirsty when I woke up and asked the nurse for a drink. “Sorry, you can’t have anything yet, but I’ll get you a gause pad soaked in water” she said. She got it and came right back and put it in my mouth. I sucked it dry but it wasn’t enough so I asked for more. “One more and then that’s it, you need to wake up some more first.” she told me.

I remember how pretty she looked, again a sweet looking brunette. I am partial to brunettes. After looking at all the Vietnam peasant women for the last month, any “Round Eye”, as we non-asians were known as, looked good to me. Damn she looked good, but this time I kept my mouth shut about it. I am a gentleman, at least sometimes, you know. I remember this time when I was in the hospital in Japan recovering, this really hot Hawaiian nurse with, I’m guessing C-cups, leaned over my bed to turn on the light and put her right boob right in my…….woops, I’m getting side tracked. I’ll tell you about that in a few more chapters. Now back to this chapter.

It wasn’t long before they wheeled me into one of the wards in the hospital and put me into a bed. The wards were long rooms with a lot of beds from end to end and a nurses station, little else.



I looked around the room and the place was filled with wounded soldiers. I saw a Vietnamese man in the bed across from me. I asked the medic getting me settled in, who he was. He told me “He’s a VC that has been wounded that night but don’t worry about him” as he pointed out an MP standing near by in case of trouble. The VC was out cold with tubes everywhere, so he wasn’t going to be a problem for anyone.

The surgeon came in after a little while to check on me. I asked what had happened to me and would I being going home. “Yes”, he said, “you will be going home.” Then he told me I had about 30 to 40 different fragment wounds all over my body, a few quite large, but all superficial. Meaning I may have a lot of wounds, but none of them that serious or life threatening. He also told me they had to leave the wounds open for about ten days to try and prevent infection. During those ten days, they’ll clean them all a few times and monitor them to make sure infection doesn’t develop. If everything goes fine, then they’ll close them. He did tell me they had to close the one in my neck, that one couldn’t stay open. He said a large piece of glass went into my neck just missing my jugular vein. It sort of bounced off my Adams apple lodging right under my chin. (So that’s why he asked me if I could breathe okay.) That took with 35 stitches to close.

Here’s a picture of the scar from that wound. It’s right above my collar. There is a nick on the front of my Adam’s apple from when the glass hit me. That’s how close it came to severing a jugular vein in my neck and killing me. The scar has faded quite a bit over the years so it may be a little difficult to make out.



Everyone left me alone and I went to sleep for a while. When I woke up I really started to be conscious of all of my wounds and was very uncomfortable. I asked for a shot for pain which, by then, was due. I started moving around a little to try and get more comfortable and then realized I couldn’t move my legs at all. I tried, but it was no use, they wouldn’t move I called for a nurse in somewhat of a panic. A couple of people rushed over to me and I told them I couldn’t move my legs. They pulled back the sheet and asked me to move them. I tried to move them, but they wouldn’t move, I was paralyzed from the waist down.

“Get the doctor!” the nurse ordered someone. A doctor came very quickly and asked me to move my legs. “I can’t! I’m trying but I can’t!” We went back and forth about this a couple of times and then poked me a few places on my legs and feet to see if I had any feeling in my legs. “Yes, I can feel it” I told him.

“Good. Now just try to move your big toes.” I tried and tried but no use.

“Yes you can, now concentrate.” I saw first the right toe move a little, and then the left. Not very much, but they moved.

“That’s great!” the doctor said with a big smile. “You be fine, but it’s going to take some time.”

“You mean I’m not going be paralyzed?”

“No. Like I said, you’ll be fine.”

“What’s wrong with me then? Why can’t I move my legs?

“You have two very large wounds on your back and one of them goes very near your spinal column. The spinal cord may have been bruised and there’s a lot of swelling. So once the swelling goes down and trauma to the spinal cord starts to heal, you’ll be able to move your legs more and more. Eventually you should make full recovery.”

What a relief!

The doctor sent for a physical therapist and the therapist and one person or another from the ward that became free, spent the next couple of hours and then the rest of the next day off and on, moving my feet and legs around. The therapist told me that it would encourage healing faster. He must have spent two straight hours doing that that first night. It hurt like hell, but by morning I could actually move my feet pretty good. Everyday after that I could move my legs more and more and then almost four weeks later, I was able to stand for the first time with the help of crutches. I went through physical therapy for the next 18 months, but eventually made a full recovery.

I should point out that about a year later when I was stationed at Fort Meade in Maryland, I checked into Walter Reed Army Hospital in Washington DC and had the scar on my neck and the two on my back, cleaned up by two plastic surgeons. Also, I never actually saw the two scars on my back or the one on my hip all that clearly until I bought my digital camera in early August 2005.

Click the picture to enlarge it a little.

HNT - Now I'm getting yelled at...

...by the fans of my Vietnam series stories. I posted chapter 15 on Monday which covered the pre-op before surgery after I was wounded. I ended that story just as I was going under the anesthesia.

Boy oh boy, did they get mad at that. You'd have thought I did something terrible by stopping there and leaving them hanging. Wondering why the doctor was concerned if I could breathe or did I even survive the surgery. Now my feelings are hurt and I don't know if I want to continue with my story. I wonder what it will take to get me to post the next chapter?

Any ideas?

*cough* *HNT* *cough* *boobs* *cough* *half-nekkid* *cough* *full-naked is even better* *cough*

Sorry, I have a cold. ;-)

Gee, I can't think of anything myself. I'll use this picture as my HNT post this week and see if this will generate any ideas. (Hint: It's related to the breathing thing)

Here’s a picture of the scar from that wound. It took 35 stitches to close it. It’s right above my shirt collar. The scar has faded quite a bit over the years so it may be a little difficult to make out. Click on the picture to make it larger if you want.

GOOD MORNING VIETNAM! Chapter Fifteen

Chapter 15: Surgery at the 12th Evac Hospital in Cu Chi

The 12th Evacuation Hospital was established in Cu Chi along Highway 1 on December 1, 1966 in support of the 25th Infantry Division and remained on site until its deactivation on December 15,1970. The hospital was situated across the road from a petroleum dump and the artillery battery. The hospital, which could accommodate up to 300 casualties, was situated in a violent corner of Vietnam between Saigon and the Cambodian border and rarely lacked for action...


Here are a couple of pictures of an OR nurse that served at the 12th Evac Hospital in 1967, the pictures were just labeled Sarah.

Sarah outside the operating room and one of the hospital buildings.

Chopper landed outside the 12th Evac Hospital

The instant the medivac chopper touched the ground outside the 12th Evac Hospital in Cu Chi, my stretcher was taken off.


The first face I see is of the cutest little brunette nurse you’ve ever seen. “Hey, your cute.” I said. I didn’t get any response, I suppose, because the helicopter engine was making so much noise. (Yeah, I was a horn dog even then)

They took me inside the building and several people started checking me out. First thing they did was cut off every stitch of clothes I had on, including my boots. Bandages were removed and some replaced right away. They started poking and prodding me and moving me around, even took a couple of x rays.


Damn, that was uncomfortable. So I asked them for something for the pain. I wasn’t really in pain, just kind of very uncomfortable, but I was afraid, and didn’t want to be in pain.

“Did they give you anything in the field?” the doctor asked.

“No” knowing damn well they had. I just didn’t want to be in pain.

The doctor says, “Nurse, give him some demoral.” I got the shot.

I felt the doctor squeezing a piece of skin on the front of my throat, right under my chin. He asked me, “Can you breath okay?”

“Yeah, I can breath fine” I said. “I’m just cold.”

“Are you sure you not having any problem breathing?” he asks again, while still squeezing that little bit of skin under my chin.

“I’m sure. Why?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing. We’ll have you in surgery in a few minutes.” The doctor said calmly. “Get him covered with something, he’s cold.”

I don’t remember how long I laid there, not long though. The demoral and morphine had really kicked by now and I really wasn’t feel much of anything. They came an got me and wheeled me down through some doors and eventually in a building rolling me past some operating rooms which were all filled. They were all separated from each other, but there was an opening in the front of each of them so I could see in as we passed.

They rolled me into the area I was to be operated on, picked me up and placed me on the operating table. Got me settled in, strapped down, blood pressure cuff on, IV in; you know the drill if you’ve ever had surgery.

“Were going to put you a sleep now" the surgeon says. I want you to start counting backwards from 100."

“Wait an minute Doc,” I said “make sure you don’t start cutting on me until I’m asleep, okay?”

“Don’t worry, we won’t, now start counting”.

I start counting and my eyes started to close, but I quickly opened them again and repeated, “Make sure you don’t start cutting on until I’m a sleep.” Again the surgeon repeated not to worry and I fell a sleep.

How do you like your coffee?

I like my coffee regular. I made a fresh pot when I got up this morning like always. It was just after 11:30, so still technically morning. Then I poured a cup of coffee, put in a little raw sugar and then poured in some milk. I guess those little white curds floating around means I need to buy fresh milk? I better go food shopping today.

GOOD MORNING VIETNAM! Chapter Fourteen

Chapter 14: Wounded

7 November 1968

Tonight was my squad’s turn to go out on night ambush. We were heading to our usual spot in the local cemetery through a heavily wooded area when the last man in our column told us he thinks he heard something moving around behind us. He said he was dropping back for a second to see what it is. We kept moving and about a minute later he caught up to us and he told us he was sure someone was following us. The sergeant instructed us to take cover up ahead in a ditch. We all moved up and got down in it. I landed right on a piece of corrugated tin making a loud racket. Now if there were really VC following us and they didn’t know where we were, they sure knew where we were now.

I moved over off of the piece of tin so I wouldn’t make anymore noise, which of course made even more noise. Then we sat sat silently watching and listening. We could hear movement in several places off to one side. It sounded like there were a group starting to move around us. It had to be either VC or NVA regulars because they were the only people besides our night ambush patrols that were out at night.

The sergeant got on the radio and reported back about our situation. He told them he felt we were in danger of attack and we were coming back in. The CO told him no but the sergeant stood firm and we headed back moving in the opposite direction away from the noises we were hearing.

We made it back to the FSB without incident and were all told to immediately report to the command bunker. The CO was in there and was totally pissed that we didn’t stay out like he ordered. The sergeant explained in more detail what had happened and made a good case for doing what we did. The CO understood better now and let the whole thing slide. Well, almost slide. He told us that since we didn’t stay out tonight, we would have to go out the next night again, sort of a punishment. We bitched a little under our breath, but resigned ourselves to the fact of two nights in a row on night ambush.

8 November 1968

The next day we discussed what had happened and we all agreed that we weren’t going to go back to the same area tonight again. We decided to sandbag it and go over to the ARVN (South Vietnamese military) compound and spend the night with them.

Sandbagging. Definition: Bush term meant to describe the act of avoiding the assigned ambush, patrol, listening post, observation post, etc. and usually the act is meant to be unknown to the powers-that-be that ordered the particular activity.

I found out this was done quite a bit. Sometimes the ARVNs would even take our squads into Trang Bang for a little R&R at night. That sounded good to me.

When night came, we headed off first in the assigned direction and then in the direction of the ARVN compound. We were walking between a fence behind some buildings and a wooded area. It looked to me like we were cutting through a village.

I had no idea were we were going or how long it would take us to get there, so I caught up to the man in front of me and asked him how far this place was. He told me “not far”, so as to put some distance back between him and I again, I stopped for a few seconds to drop back a little. As soon as I took my first step, to start moving again, there was a loud explosion.


I felt strange sensations all over my body; I’d been hit. It felt like my left ear had been shot off so I reached up toward it with my right head. As I neared my face with my hand, I felt blood squirt on it from what I would find out later, was a large wound in my neck. Then I felt a sharp pain in my back like I was being stabbed over and over. I began twisting and contorting my body while trying to remove my backpack, while rotating toward my left and collapsed on the ground. I was writhing in pain on the ground and finally succeeded in removing the pack the rest of the way.

Then the next second I found myself looking down at me lying on the ground. It’s as if I was floating about ten feet up in the air looking down. Then instantly I was engulfed in a bright white light and was no longer where I was just a second before. I had no idea where I was and began looking around but didn’t see anything, just white. There was nothing at all. I didn't see anyone or hear anyone or talk to anyone. All I saw was white light, not a blinding kind of bright, just pure bright white.

I knew at that point that I was dead. I remember saying to myself “So I’m dead, huh? So this is what’s it’s like to be dead?” still looking around to see where I was and still seeing nothing but white light.

Then just as quickly as I found myself in the white light, I was back in my body lying on the ground. I hear someone call out, “Anyone hit! Anyone hit!” I tried to speak but nothing came out, I couldn’t talk.

Then I heard someone call out again; “Anyone hit! Anyone hit!” I called out again and this time the words “I’m hit” came out. The sergeant came over to me and asks me if I’m all right, “I’m hit!” I repeated again. He told me I’d be okay, and yelled over at the RTO, “Get on the radio and tell them we have wounded and we need help right away.”

I started feeling cold and pain in different parts of my body, but mostly in my back. I was trying to move around, get up or something but couldn’t do it. Someone told me to lie still and put a bandage on my neck and kept repeating to hold still and that help would be here in a minute.

It wasn’t long before I heard our men arriving. I was quickly picked up by my arms and legs and put onto a poncho liner. The picked me up and started carrying me back to FSB Stuart. The pain in my back was so hard to take as they carried me. I asked them over and over to put me down so the pressure on my back would subside if only for a second. It hurt so much, but they didn’t listen, moving as fast as they could, almost running to get me back.


They carried me back to our base camp at FSB Stuart and put me in the mess tent. The medic started tending to me. My clothes were being cut up to give him access to my wounds and he placed bandages in various places on my body. I had no idea at all what was wrong with me. I just knew I hurt so much and was so cold and wet, wet from all the blood I must have been loosing.

The company commander, Captain Wissinger came over and kneeled down next to me and began trying to assure me I would be all right. I asked him how many men had been wounded, he told me seven and that the VC had set off a claymore. He told me they called in for a medevac as soon as they found out there was wounded and the chopper would be here soon for us.

I asked him for something for the pain, but he seemed to ignore me and just kept telling me I would be okay. I asked again, but this time I screamed at him, “GIVE ME SOMETHING FOR THE PAIN GOD DAMMIT!” The medic was way ahead of him I guess after hearing me the first time and gave me a shot of morphine about then. That calmed me down just knowing the morphine would kick in soon and the pain would begin subsiding.

Pretty soon I was carried out of the mess tent, this time on a stretcher. We went out the front through the opening in the rolls of razor wire that surrounded the FSB and across the highway to the landing zone where we waited for the medevac chopper to come pick us up. They called that a dustoff.


As I laid on the ground waiting, a lot of thing ran through my mind, but the one I remember most clearly “Was I wounded bad enough to get out of this awful place? Would this be my ticket back to the world?”

It wasn’t very long before I heard the chopper coming in to land. The sound was unmistakeable, kind of a WOP, WOP, WOP sound. When it landed they put everyone else on first and then put my stretcher across the width of the chopper on the floor.


Up we went and I felt such a sense of relief, but damn, I felt so was so cold and wet with all the wind blowing around. They had covered me with a poncho liner but that just wasn’t enough to keep me warm. Then I remember feeling my pants sticking to my left hip so I reached down to pull them away with my left hand. My hand went about half way in to that large wound you’ve seen on my hip . “WTF happened to me!” I remember thinking in somewhat of a panic. This was the first time that it really hit me that I was in such bad shape and then I really got scared. I just folded my arms across my chest, tried to calm down and didn’t move for the rest of the flight to the hospital in Cu Chi.

8 NOV 68, Saturday
Co's B and D (-) maintained NL at FSB STUART/Trang Bank Bridge vic XT501194. At 1900H vic XT494198 Co B AP enroute to AP site was eng with 1 claymore by an unknown element, resulting in 7 US WIA (dustoff). At 1015H vic XT516200 Co B eng 6 VC with SA, results unknown.

THE 12,000TH VISITOR TO MY BLOG

Yep, it just happened, my StatCounter just hit 12,000!

		Page Loads	Unique Visitors	First Time Visitors	Returning Visitors
Total		12,001	8,558	5,724	2,834

Thanks y'all!

Baby HNT

My son Brian would kill me if he knew I was posting a picture of him nekkid while he was taking a bath. So y'all have to promise not to tell him, okay?

This picture was taken in 1982 right after we remodeled the bathroom. We had the large sink put in so I could bathe him in it. Prior to this I gave him baths in the kitchen sink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pieces of Me just asked if Brian was still cute. So I'm posting a very recent picture of him and his girl friend so she can decide.

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I am so excited! We are world famous now! All of us Half-Nekkid Thursday folks have hit the big time!! Woo Hoo!! All because of the MAN! Our leader! The man who thought up this crazy Half-Nekkid Thursday idea. And all just to get pictures of women's boobs.



Tonight we must all give a big hand to Mr HNT himself, Osbasso!


Click on this fine lady's boobies to see what all the fuss is about!

Edit: I got the artcle off of Os's blog.

I Love My Insurance Company

No I'm not out of my mind, I ready do love my insurance company. I just opened today's mail, and received a wonderful letter from my insurance company.

Click on the picture to make it larger if your having trouble reading it.

I am so excited that they have idiots working for them that over charged me originally. I really thought I was getting a great deal already, now it's going lower.

I just love these guys.

GOOD MORNING VIETNAM! Chapter Thirteen

Chapter 13: Scotch, Pot and Puff the Magic Dragon

One of the days we were off, our squad decided to have a party. The Captain frowned upon any alcohol so we had to be secretive. During the day, we went out to the vendors selling things on the side of the road right outside our FSB. We picked up a bottle of Scotch, some ice and had the tobacco in a carton of cigarettes replaced with pot. We put the ice in a bucket and buried it up to the rim to try and keep it from melting as long as we could.

After dinner, we broke out the soda (all we had left was grape) and mixed in some scotch. The guys lit up a joint and I tried smoking pot for the first time. I did what a lot of people probably did and took a hit like I would on a cigarette and blew it right out. I got my lessons and in a short time, I was an old pro.

We were having a grand old time when some guys came running out of the command bunker all excited and started running around to all the bunkers telling people something. We put everything away in a hurry so not to get caught. Someone came over to our bunker and told us a large number of NVA soldiers had been spotted heading in our direction.

“Son-of-a-bitch, why did I have to drink the scotch and smoke the pot?” “Why didn’t we listen to the captain?” I swore right then that I’d never do anything like that again as long as I was in the field.

We were told we were going to be supplied with extra claymore mines, rounds of ammunition and hand grenades, as an attack sometime during the night was imminent. We were on 100% alert that night, which meant no one was to go to sleep. If it looks like we were going to be over run, the artillery would be set level to the ground, and fire shells filled with nails at the NVA.

Well, news like that has a way of sobering you up very fast. We set up all the claymores out in front of the bunker (no, I didn't fuck up this time), unpacked and distributed the hand grenades and ammo and just waited.

I don’t remember what time it was, maybe 10 or 11, when the artillery started firing. At about the same time, off in distance, you could see what looked like a firework show was just starting. You couldn’t hear anything, but could see the light from a lot of explosions and then saw the light from red tracer bullets being fried from up in the sky.

Word spread fast that the NVA had been spotted and was under attack from the air. That’s what our artillery was firing at. The picture below gives you a very good idea what we saw off in the distance. The circle of red lights and the red funnel shapes in the sky are from the gattling guns firing in AC-47 airplanes.

This is an AC-47, otherwise known as "Puff The Magic Dragon" after the Peter, Paul, and Mary song of those days. This dragon, however, was not the benign one of song. Clearly visible on the left side of the aircraft are the barrels of three 7.62-mm gattling guns protruding from the open windows. Each was capable of 6,000 rounds per minute (that's correct - 100 rounds a second) for a full output of 18,000 rounds per minute, although the guns were normally only fired one at a time. The guns were aimed by rolling the aircraft into a left turn and visually lining up the target with index marks on the left wingtip and the pilot's side window. The door was left off so that illumination flares could be tossed out. Spent cases from the guns were collected into ammo cans placed beside each gun. It was not good to be the object of Puff's attention. This photo was taken at Phu Cat where the AC-47 squadron was based

Next thing you know there were very large explosions. They told us they were bombs that were dropped from a B-52’s.


We all just sat in awe watching the whole thing. At one point we even saw an explosion in the sky from one of our aircraft being shot down. Never did find out what it was. I don’t remember how long that went on, but it was quite awhile. We got updates pretty regularly on what was going on as the command bunker was in constant contact with whoever organized these sorts of things.

We never did come under attack that night because of everything we saw the night before. The next morning after breakfast, we packed up all the extra supplies we were given the night before and gave them to the supply personnel when they came around to pick them up.