qfreak69

Second Installment.

Life sucks. I went to a couple of concerts last week, music was great, Flesh Factor rules. Lacuna Coil lead singer rocks my clock. Then, it happened again, for the second time in my life. A young lady, at the Big Fish Pub, asked me if I was a Vietnam Veteran, and I fell for it again. She must have seen my tiger. When I got off the plane in San Francisco, thirty-two years ago, I had an old gray haired lady, that looked like my Grandmother, walked up to me, and spit on me, because I worn my uniform back to the states. It made me feel so low, to think what we had went through meant so little. Last Friday night this young lady, younger than my kids, asked me if I was a Vietnam Veteran, I told her yes. She must have seen my tiger. The next comment out of her mouth, set me back thirty-two, she said, "Your are a killer, then." I just turned and walked away. We that defend this country are not allowed to fight back. We must just turn and walk away; the rules of engagement are not the same, as when we were in combat. We will never have any peace, because the ghosts of are past live on in the youth of tomorrow.
I am sorry to the friends I have made, I just don't know if I can take that again. It took me years to be able to be around more than six people at a time. I lived my life from my single room, and with work. I didn't tell anyone it happened that night, because I didn't want to ruin the night for anyone, ever that young lady. But it made me feel so low, and bad, I never killer anyone, unless it was in self-defense, or in defense of other. My actions were always honorable. Those who have not sacrificed for their country as I have, can't understand what its like. In just one op, I lost 123 fellow bothers of the blue, 90% of my sister squadron. We volunteered to go in and recover our friends. The horror, you children will never know. Our two squadrons were the first in the Air Force to have subdued rank, name, and insignia patches. I carry a bible in my pocket, its is for the saying of last rights for fallen bothers. It carries the souls of those I lost in it. Total number, 139, the 123, plus 8 more in combat, and 8 during a peacetime mishap. I didn't just loss a husband or bother, not just one or two. They all died to give that young lady the right to say what she feels.
I honor my flag, my country, and my fellow bothers of the services, by haven turned and walking away. But my soul is crushed, again, as it was before. I now have 26 years of Government service, 9 years as an airman, and 17 years as a civilian. I serve my bothers even now, by making sure that the equipment that they received in the field works as it should. I take VA Meds to just get sleep 4 hours a night. I have 7 bad vertebras in my back. Ghosts in my head. I sleep with a loaded 45 across my chest. All this so I can be called a KILLER. Justice is only for the forgiven. Will we never be forgiven for our service to this country?
Only the grave awaits me, I live in a country where my language is becoming a second language, where other flags are flown in disrespect to the flag that has draped so many coffins, that all might have the right to disrespect what my bothers have died for. I live in this prison, I have made for myself until my bothers call for me to come home.