VietNam

Damn!
I have watched a multitude of videos on The Great War, WW2, and the (so-called) Vietnam War. My interest in any of those conflicts has been thru personal, or familial, contact.

I can not say much for the first World War, other than my great grand-father - John Erskine Johnston Simpson  -, who fought in Europe in WW1 and died due to complications from inhalation of "mustard gas". I have no familial connection to WW2.

However, the so-called VietNam War is tied to me because I (as in ME!) wanted oh-so desperately to go there and fight! Mainly because I was disheartened with my life at home. But, my cousin Steve left home to avoid that stupid mandatory draft in what? '71? '72? Much as my immediate family wanted to decry his actions, I applauded them.

Then, Steve returned home, enlisted, and joined the Marines! At that time, I was confused and, yes, dismayed. Mainly, because of the vitriol media was giving at the time about this conflict. "They said" this, and others "said that". And I stood confused.

Of course, today, with all the video and TV attention now given to this "war", I realize that my desires in that time were perhaps not so, ummm... confused? I have seen vets from the VietNam  conflict who have emphatically stated that their actions were for their country. (remember Afghanistan and Iraq??)

Bleh. Ever since I heard that Steve enlisted, joined the Marines, AND did what he could do, I relented somewhat. My confusion still remained in wtf was the USofA doing in South VietNam anyway?

My conclusion was that the US was in a conflict, its armed forces did what they were told and the rest be danged.
Me, being 62 yrs of age today, have realized far before now, that maybe kinda sorta (Iraq? Afghanistan?) that the political powers that be might be........???

Blah. Bleh. Blah. Dang. The whole intent of this missive was to tell you that in the dying daze of the VietNam fuck-up was that I wanted oh-so desperately to go there and FIGHT!

 Yeah, today, I know that I had no idea of death, of what it means to face someone who wants to kill you or what the fuck it all meant. I just wanted to escape today... then.

Blip! And then, yup, I found my escape. Drugs.
(excusing the fact that I just passed my 28th year of clean time!) Even now, I sometimes feel like I missed my calling by not pursuing that irresponsible thought of "I should go to VietNam!" 

Regardless of which, I am proud of my cousin Steve for his actions (both con and pro) and who he is today. I am proud of all those folk who went to that war believing that what they did was right -- yes, and even if they didn't believe it! -- but still died for freedom.

I am now filled with a feeling of angst. Because I have met folk who avoided the draft by coming to Canada, and those who did what might have been right.

Me? I wanted to be away from every fucking thing I didn't want to be around (1971 to 1973?) I  just wanted to run away. And still, modern media wants to remind me of... every fraking mudder-frelling yadda blahblah I thought I dealt with ages ago.

Aye, Perhaps it be time for me to go to bed, Aye?

Keep The Faith*