I like modelling because it allows me to connect with the men and women who have made history, for better or worse. People make history, not machines, but modelling their machines brings me a tiny bit closer to them. It’s the history …
In June, 1971, I took my one-and-only cat shot, in a C-2, off the Kitty Hawk on Yankee Station. I was the better part of one line period from completeing the entire cruise, but my Exchange privileges were set to expire in a week, so they had to send me away. I spent three of what rank among the truly best days of my life in the P.I., at Clark AFB (which was a beautiful place), off the duty radar, waiting for transit stateside. To make a long story a little shorter, on arriving in the States, I took a bus from Travis to San Francisco International, where I caught a PSA jet to San Diego. When I got to the airport, I ducked in the first restroom I came to, went into a stall and changed out of my uniform into a set of civies I’d had on the ship, shoes and all. It was the very first opportunity I’d had to do so after re-entering the civilian world.
I did not do this because I was ashamed of my uniform, or of anything I had done, because I wasn’t - I did it because, at that time, groups of people sometimes roamed the airports of our country, throwing blood, feces, urine and garbage on men in uniform as they came upon them, following them and chanting insults at them (‘baby killer’ was a favorite). Especially in SF. I just wanted to sit in the lounge, have a drink and wait for my flight home to San Diego. I didn’t want to have to put up with those people, not that day.
In college afterwards, I learned that it was simply best not to mention being a vet at school, or even in social situations. There was a serious political/cultural divide. Literally half of everybody, in those days, was strongly opposed the war. Some, especially at school (but everywhere/anywhere, really), felt compelled to take their anger over the issue out on vets - because we were available, I guess - usually by way of a highly-charged, personal verbal assault, right out in public. Few people would take your part in those days, and many simply didn’t want to know you if they found out you were a 'Nam vet. I kid you not. I just wanted to go to school and recreate, like a normal college kid. So, mum’s the word (though I never denied it, if asked, just never offered it). As it turned out, my friends in college were all ex-GI’s …
Over the years, as I established and reared a family, it became less and less socially acceptable to verbally assault 'Nam vets. Even the stereotypical homicidal-maniac 'Nam vet villian, so common in the 70’s and early '80’s on TV and in the movies, disappeared from our culture. The past twenty years or so, seeing the American people receive their Dessert Storm, Afghanistan/Iraq vets back with the honor and respect they deserve has pleased me greatly - more than I can say - and I thought we were past all that.
I am proud of my brother 'Nam vets, all of them, not only because they are mine, but because they served their country faithfully through extraordinarily difficult circumstances.
I, for one, am simply not going to keep it to myself anymore. When it comes up, it comes up. I had thought this forum a place where I could do that, where there might even be some mild interest in it, besides trading modelling knowlege and technique (absorbing it, really, on my part). I still think it so, mostly.
Doug,
My son’s middle name was given after his uncle Paul, who was killed in action in Vietnam. He was in the 101st AB, same as your cousin. The helicopter he was riding in was shot down. It burned. I lost relatives, friends, shipmates, drinking buddies, neighbors, acquaintances, HS team mates, and on and on … to the war Vietnam. None of them would have wanted me to suffer through the rest of my life for it, or hold it against anyone else.
I may be ‘frivilous’ when talking about liberty in the P.I., but never about war.
Further, please understand that I was not drafted into it - I enlisted. Serving was a privilege, and I knew it (though, at the time, I didn’t realize just how much of a privilege it truly was). I served with WWII vets and Korea vets, side-by-side, day-in and day-out. That is special to me now in a way I can’t describe. Besides that, I got to man a flight deck in combat, and it was the grandest adventure of my life.
If I may (hopefully) offer some constructive advice: I skip a thread item from time-to-time on this forum because I can tell from the title that it wouldn’t interest me. I’d do so, also, if I thought - from the title of the thread - that a subject might cause me an adverse emotional reaction.
Peace.
Mark
