(Homecoming) Not your standard war story
Jul 11, 2014 22:13:34 #
The other night my wife and I were setting on the couch, I'm watching television and she's looking at some magazine. She folds the magazine over to a page and shoves it under my nose. The page is actually a three quarter page, full color advertisement for satin sheets. What a flash back those satin sheets evoke!
December 28, 1971 and I'm leaving Vietnam for the third time and what I hope will be my last combat tour. In order to make this a memorable homecoming I've diligently shopped the Army & Air Force Exchange System (AAFES) catalog to come up with just the right stuff. In this case, the right stuff is a set of satin sheets and pillowcases for our king size bed, which I had mail ordered home two months before. Not only have I sent the sheets and pillowcases ahead, I've also ordered a white silk nightgown for my wife and a pair of red silk pajamas for myself.
Now to really dazzle my young farm girl when I get home, I've raided every PX in I Corps within flying radius of Phu Bai for pearls. I bought so many pearls Mikimoto had to put their oysters on a third shift and overtime to keep up with my demand.
Getting out of country was simply a pain in the ass of paperwork and standing around in line for everything that had to be done. I don't remember much about the flight home except it was long and I got the distinct impression the pilot needed practice with his landing skills. It seemed like every time he put that bucket of bolts on a runway (we refueled in Japan and Alaska plus the final landing in Seattle) he tried to bury the wheels in the asphalt. Maybe I was just being a little too sensitive about maybe dying before I could get home. The plane trips to St. Louis and then on to Louisville, Kentucky seemed like they would never end.
Karin was waiting for me at the airport along with our two boys. Rick, my youngest, was 19 months old and a bundle of energy. I'd forgotten what it was like to hold a little one like that. He had my left side stripped of Captain's bars, unit crest; flight wings and jump wings before I could react. So much for those quick combat reflexes I'd developed. With hand speed like his someday he'd make a great scout pilot or pick pocket. Well, I guess that's the same thing, but he was fast. Karin said she had standing orders to call our parents as soon as we got home and they would take care of notifying the rest of the clan. That was fine with me because I really had other things on my mind and I sure hoped she did too.
Slipping behind the wheel of the station wagon felt as easy and natural as if I had been driving a car every day for the past year instead of a helicopter. It was easy and natural until I hit the Watterson Expressway traffic. God, what I would have given for a little gun cover out there. Vietnam was a snap this driving in rush hour traffic was dangerous.
We managed to make it home without incident but I got a couple of disapproving looks from Karin about my language. When Mike, my six year old, piped up and repeated a couple of the words I'd used, I knew I had probably stepped over the line. Well, with a B-4 bag loaded with pearls and seven months since I'd been home on R&R, I figured since there was no blood on the floor I wasnt hit too badly and I should be able to recover. Boy the house looked great, Bedford stone, a shingle roof instead of a tent, hot and cold running water, indoor plumbing, and not a bunker, barbed wire, or machine gun emplacement in sight. Yes sir, life just doesnt get much better or at least not until we get the kids to bed.
Getting the children to bed turned out to take a little longer than I'd planned. They were really excited with the toys I'd brought them and it seemed to take forever before they began to nod off. After we got the boys tucked in, Karin said she was off to take a shower and for me to turn down the bed.
When I turned the bedspread back, there were the satin sheets. They looked good; cool, soft, and shinny. There wasn't a wrinkle anywhere, not even on the pillowcases. I found out later Karin had actually ironed them before putting them on the bed. The bottom fitted sheet was jet black. The top sheet was solid cherry red with a pencil thin, black accent stripe about four inches from the top. The two king size pillow cases were also cherry red except for a pencil thin black accent stripe about three inches from the opening. Looking back on it I guess the bed pretty much resembled something you'd find in a "whore house." I'm only supposing here mind you since I've never been in one of those places, but I have heard the big boys talk about them. Man oh man did I turn back the covers! I pulled everything back and laid it over the cedar chest at the foot of the bed. I folded and tucked and smoothed so there was nothing but flat surface on that big old king size bed. I figured it was a good idea to get the extra material out of the way. If we did this right we were going to use all the available flat surface and maybe some of the rounded parts too with the floor as an option.
When Karin showed up at the bedroom door she looked gorgeous. The short, white silk nightgown showed just enough leg to get the remainder of my blood pumping furiously. I said what the heck I really didn't need a shower. After all, I'd showered some 30 odd hours earlier, so by Vietnam standards I was squeaky clean. I got the wave off and told to hit the shower. I was not about to argue at this point and risk bringing on a headache, so off to the shower. Karin had laid out my silk pajamas on one of the towel racks. It was nice to know that I had practically unlimited hot water after a year of taking cold showers if we got a shower at all, but I've got to admit, I didn't waste a lot of time standing there soaking. I took a little longer shaving as there was no need risking cutting my throat at this point. Finally, I slipped on the pajamas. Wow, that silk felt cool but I didn't plan to have them on that long.
A quick check across the hall and Mike is sound asleep. Tiptoe into the baby's room and Rick is sound asleep too. When I reached the bedroom door it was the scene I'd played out in my mind a thousand times during the past year. Karin was seated with the pillows pulled up behind her and leaning against the headboard. She was sitting with one leg pulled up under her and she'd let her hair down. She'd dropped one shoulder strap and let the nightgown fall a little to reveal just a hint of........
She looked up and crooked her finger in the "come here" gesture. Ah yes, the little girl's in a playful mood and so am I. I backed up about four steps into the hallway and made a running approach to the bed. About a step away from the bed I did my best imitation of a rocket attack, bunker entrance dive. The moment I hit the bed I realized I'd made a terrible tactical blunder but it was too late. When those silk pajamas hit the satin sheets I discover what slick was all about. An ice cube dropped on a brand new Teflon frying pan isn't even close to the slick of silk sliding across satin. There just isn't any friction. Mag Lev trains my ass, if they want something frictionless they need to investigate the silk and satin combination. I caught a momentary glimpse of surprise on Karin's face as I whizzed by. As I went speeding across the bed I also discovered, there was absolutely nothing to grab hold of. That damned fitted bottom sheet was as tight as a banjo string and I'd done such a thorough job of clearing the decks there was nothing but an unobstructed path across the bed. Yep, I'm about to set the world's land speed record. I probably would have if the bed had been a tad bit wider and the opposite wall and night stand not so close. I had no idea the human body would crumple like aluminum foil, but it will when slammed into a solid object with enough force.
Ive been shot down twice and made better crash landing than that! I staggered upright, did a quick body check for form and function and found most of my parts still attached and operational. My jaw was a little tender from smacking into the nightstand so I wobbled it from side to side to make sure it was still hinged. When I brought my hand away it was bloody. I'd opened a gash that required a trip to Ireland Army Hospital and four stitches to close. When we finally got back to the house it was almost four in the morning. Nick and Ellie, our next door neighbors, who we woke up to watch the kids, were dying of curiosity. After telling them what happened I couldn't get Nick, an old retired soldier of W.W.II and Korean War vintage to stop laughing. Karin took the sheets off the bed that night, put them back in the boxes, and we didn't take them out again for twelve years. When we did take them out again it was to give them to a Captain and his wife along with a few words of caution. Here it is over forty years later and I still have no idea what it is like to sleep on satin sheets and don't really care if I ever learn.
There is an old Army saying about war stories that goes, if you dont have pictures---then it didnt happen. Well, I don't have any pictures but I still have the scar on my chin and the knowledge that I probably missed the best..................well you know what I missed that night.
December 28, 1971 and I'm leaving Vietnam for the third time and what I hope will be my last combat tour. In order to make this a memorable homecoming I've diligently shopped the Army & Air Force Exchange System (AAFES) catalog to come up with just the right stuff. In this case, the right stuff is a set of satin sheets and pillowcases for our king size bed, which I had mail ordered home two months before. Not only have I sent the sheets and pillowcases ahead, I've also ordered a white silk nightgown for my wife and a pair of red silk pajamas for myself.
Now to really dazzle my young farm girl when I get home, I've raided every PX in I Corps within flying radius of Phu Bai for pearls. I bought so many pearls Mikimoto had to put their oysters on a third shift and overtime to keep up with my demand.
Getting out of country was simply a pain in the ass of paperwork and standing around in line for everything that had to be done. I don't remember much about the flight home except it was long and I got the distinct impression the pilot needed practice with his landing skills. It seemed like every time he put that bucket of bolts on a runway (we refueled in Japan and Alaska plus the final landing in Seattle) he tried to bury the wheels in the asphalt. Maybe I was just being a little too sensitive about maybe dying before I could get home. The plane trips to St. Louis and then on to Louisville, Kentucky seemed like they would never end.
Karin was waiting for me at the airport along with our two boys. Rick, my youngest, was 19 months old and a bundle of energy. I'd forgotten what it was like to hold a little one like that. He had my left side stripped of Captain's bars, unit crest; flight wings and jump wings before I could react. So much for those quick combat reflexes I'd developed. With hand speed like his someday he'd make a great scout pilot or pick pocket. Well, I guess that's the same thing, but he was fast. Karin said she had standing orders to call our parents as soon as we got home and they would take care of notifying the rest of the clan. That was fine with me because I really had other things on my mind and I sure hoped she did too.
Slipping behind the wheel of the station wagon felt as easy and natural as if I had been driving a car every day for the past year instead of a helicopter. It was easy and natural until I hit the Watterson Expressway traffic. God, what I would have given for a little gun cover out there. Vietnam was a snap this driving in rush hour traffic was dangerous.
We managed to make it home without incident but I got a couple of disapproving looks from Karin about my language. When Mike, my six year old, piped up and repeated a couple of the words I'd used, I knew I had probably stepped over the line. Well, with a B-4 bag loaded with pearls and seven months since I'd been home on R&R, I figured since there was no blood on the floor I wasnt hit too badly and I should be able to recover. Boy the house looked great, Bedford stone, a shingle roof instead of a tent, hot and cold running water, indoor plumbing, and not a bunker, barbed wire, or machine gun emplacement in sight. Yes sir, life just doesnt get much better or at least not until we get the kids to bed.
Getting the children to bed turned out to take a little longer than I'd planned. They were really excited with the toys I'd brought them and it seemed to take forever before they began to nod off. After we got the boys tucked in, Karin said she was off to take a shower and for me to turn down the bed.
When I turned the bedspread back, there were the satin sheets. They looked good; cool, soft, and shinny. There wasn't a wrinkle anywhere, not even on the pillowcases. I found out later Karin had actually ironed them before putting them on the bed. The bottom fitted sheet was jet black. The top sheet was solid cherry red with a pencil thin, black accent stripe about four inches from the top. The two king size pillow cases were also cherry red except for a pencil thin black accent stripe about three inches from the opening. Looking back on it I guess the bed pretty much resembled something you'd find in a "whore house." I'm only supposing here mind you since I've never been in one of those places, but I have heard the big boys talk about them. Man oh man did I turn back the covers! I pulled everything back and laid it over the cedar chest at the foot of the bed. I folded and tucked and smoothed so there was nothing but flat surface on that big old king size bed. I figured it was a good idea to get the extra material out of the way. If we did this right we were going to use all the available flat surface and maybe some of the rounded parts too with the floor as an option.
When Karin showed up at the bedroom door she looked gorgeous. The short, white silk nightgown showed just enough leg to get the remainder of my blood pumping furiously. I said what the heck I really didn't need a shower. After all, I'd showered some 30 odd hours earlier, so by Vietnam standards I was squeaky clean. I got the wave off and told to hit the shower. I was not about to argue at this point and risk bringing on a headache, so off to the shower. Karin had laid out my silk pajamas on one of the towel racks. It was nice to know that I had practically unlimited hot water after a year of taking cold showers if we got a shower at all, but I've got to admit, I didn't waste a lot of time standing there soaking. I took a little longer shaving as there was no need risking cutting my throat at this point. Finally, I slipped on the pajamas. Wow, that silk felt cool but I didn't plan to have them on that long.
A quick check across the hall and Mike is sound asleep. Tiptoe into the baby's room and Rick is sound asleep too. When I reached the bedroom door it was the scene I'd played out in my mind a thousand times during the past year. Karin was seated with the pillows pulled up behind her and leaning against the headboard. She was sitting with one leg pulled up under her and she'd let her hair down. She'd dropped one shoulder strap and let the nightgown fall a little to reveal just a hint of........
She looked up and crooked her finger in the "come here" gesture. Ah yes, the little girl's in a playful mood and so am I. I backed up about four steps into the hallway and made a running approach to the bed. About a step away from the bed I did my best imitation of a rocket attack, bunker entrance dive. The moment I hit the bed I realized I'd made a terrible tactical blunder but it was too late. When those silk pajamas hit the satin sheets I discover what slick was all about. An ice cube dropped on a brand new Teflon frying pan isn't even close to the slick of silk sliding across satin. There just isn't any friction. Mag Lev trains my ass, if they want something frictionless they need to investigate the silk and satin combination. I caught a momentary glimpse of surprise on Karin's face as I whizzed by. As I went speeding across the bed I also discovered, there was absolutely nothing to grab hold of. That damned fitted bottom sheet was as tight as a banjo string and I'd done such a thorough job of clearing the decks there was nothing but an unobstructed path across the bed. Yep, I'm about to set the world's land speed record. I probably would have if the bed had been a tad bit wider and the opposite wall and night stand not so close. I had no idea the human body would crumple like aluminum foil, but it will when slammed into a solid object with enough force.
Ive been shot down twice and made better crash landing than that! I staggered upright, did a quick body check for form and function and found most of my parts still attached and operational. My jaw was a little tender from smacking into the nightstand so I wobbled it from side to side to make sure it was still hinged. When I brought my hand away it was bloody. I'd opened a gash that required a trip to Ireland Army Hospital and four stitches to close. When we finally got back to the house it was almost four in the morning. Nick and Ellie, our next door neighbors, who we woke up to watch the kids, were dying of curiosity. After telling them what happened I couldn't get Nick, an old retired soldier of W.W.II and Korean War vintage to stop laughing. Karin took the sheets off the bed that night, put them back in the boxes, and we didn't take them out again for twelve years. When we did take them out again it was to give them to a Captain and his wife along with a few words of caution. Here it is over forty years later and I still have no idea what it is like to sleep on satin sheets and don't really care if I ever learn.
There is an old Army saying about war stories that goes, if you dont have pictures---then it didnt happen. Well, I don't have any pictures but I still have the scar on my chin and the knowledge that I probably missed the best..................well you know what I missed that night.
Jul 11, 2014 22:26:52 #
Great story of a Nam home coming. I can picture your bunker dive. Thank-you for your service.
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