T
here was a time that I was sane. But, the time that I spend in the
"Nam" changed that. I remember the time that a "brother" came over to
are FSB postion and talked to the other "bro's" in my squad, and it so
happens that it was after a resupply. We were going thru the
sundry-paks, and this guy (white) got some shoe laces. This "gun-bunny"
who was black, came over because we had some black's in our squad. Well,
this guy who had the shoe laces, began to make a black power wristed
band. This "gun-bunny" told him to not to make it because his skin
wasn't the color of his. I took my 45 and pointed at him and told him to
get the *uck out of here .
Later me and some of my black buddy's went
to this covered shack around the 105's. We crawed into this area where
we would start to smoke a joint. As the joint was passed around, the the
arty bro didn't pass it to me. After awhile I realized that he didn't
like whites. I left shortly after a very akward moment, and went back
to my position. I sat ther and thought about the situation and decided
to take manners in to my own hands. I took a CS grenade and walked
slowly over to the place they were at. I pulled the pin and toss the
grenade into the bunker. I walked away slowly, back to to my position.
The truth of the story is that is not what happened. In reality, I just
walked back to my position. The hate, still at times comes to my soul.
I wish that I had the guts to had done what I should of had done, back
then.
After, we left the hill, I asked the two bro's what was that all about. They now seemed to be in a different state of mind
and it seemed that they were at lost for words. Now, we were back in the bush and they knew that their lives were in my and
everybody's else's hands.
Oh, how I wish I could've killed them. But, that is not what
happened.
I think about it alot from time to to time. Now, it's
happening again.
I've been married for 25 years, and my dear wife has,
as she states, "she has had enough", and she can't deal with a crazy person
anymore. It's kind of funny the last child is going off to college, and
this should be the time we get to share some time together, but that is
not the reality. She wants out. I have bad thoughts, and again think of
ways to harm, those who seem to put me into a position of akwardness.
The truth is that i will not do anything. I will probably just let the
situation take me away.
I should be thankful that she stayed so long. I
wish i was back in the bush, where i know i could handle this fate. I
must be in control, and be cool. My son depends on me. But the devil is
at my door, knocking!
I know that I'm not that young guy anymore, and
have to be a stand-up guy. Oh, how I hope the guy up above will give me
something to hold on to. There again, i'm a fake, because I've lost my
faith along time ago. "Sympathy For the Devil" rings in my ears. The
things i wish i could of done, and the things i did. Choices, choices,
choices!!! The voices in my mind will not let me have peace. I do not
blame anyone. I will have to deal with this. This is reality!!!
Ken Hornbeck D/1/501: Vietnam 1969-'70
Got a good story? Please submit stories in the format of "plain text."
email link