USMC

USMC

Quilt Part Six

Almost every time I write a resume, or a bio, I start off with the fact that I was a Marine Corps Captain with time in Viet Nam. That overshadows all the rest of my story. But I do know some former Marines, some Viet Nam vets, or both who let that fact become who they are. It has become their whole identify.

There is a bar on the East side that mid-afternoon, every afternoon, has a large pick up truck sitting outside with a Viet Nam vet sticker on the back. I want to meet the guy and probably will at some point. I am guessing that is who he is. Though I do have Viet Nam vet license plates on our van, there is a balance that needs to be maintained. If you get stuck in the past – who you were – it can keep you from moving on to who you want to become.

There is a ritual to two Viet Nam vets meeting. They are recognized by the ball caps, or less often the jackets. The one not self-labeled will identify himself. It may be in a grocery store or a restaurant, but he will make himself known to his brother in the ball cap. Then they will compare parts of the country where they were, what parts of the service they were in and the years they were there. There will be a brief reference to major battles and perhaps to the lingering effects of any injuries. If both were Marines the Marine Corps slogan “Semper Fi” will be exchanged, then as they part company each will say to the other “Welcome home.” That’s a recognition that during the Viet Nam war, service men were often not welcomed home. They were instead shouted at and ridiculed.

After they pulled me out of Viet Nam, they put me in a paper pushing job on an air base. It was part of the routine, established to ensure that all new officers got a balanced set of experiences, but I told them that if they had left me in the dirt and grease, I might have stayed in. I am glad I had that time in the Corps, but I am glad I got out when I did. Semper Fi.