The Lieutenant in the last jeep yelled at us
to set up a perimeter around the area of the dead body. He pointed to a nearby
tree line thirty yards from the beach and ordered me to take a position in the
trees. I dutifully jogged there and dropped to the prone position taking guard.
I would learn, while in Vietnam ,
I would have a lot of silent alone time while lying face down in the dirt. This
would happen often, such as while on patrol, after receiving incoming sniper
fire, or watching out for other Marines as they disarmed a landmine, or – as in
this case-the recovery of a dead Marine. But I had no idea what I was watching
for. There were a few Vietnamese around the area; I assumed they were local
farmers. That’s when I noticed the Mimosa plant, it was growing everywhere. I
remembered it. When I was a child my grandfather showed it to me while
we were in the greenhouse at Garfield Park .
It was magical; when you touch the leaves they mysteriously wrinkle and fold up. From that day forward it became my lucky
charm.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
First day in Vietnam
As we were traveling along the beach I first realized the tropical heat. Even though there was a good breeze the hot sun reflected and magnified the heat off the pure white sand. The temperature had to be triple digits with a kick-ass humidity. The convoy I was in was four jeeps long, with four or five men in each.
Suddenly, something on the beach came in view. It was a bright orange bundle that washed up to shore. Everyone else saw it as well because the short caravan was ordered to stop. That’s when I realized the pasty white and orange mass was a dead body. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit. Everyone assumed he was a Marine jet pilot, must have been shot down and his body had washed to shore. His body was all bloated and starting to decompose, bugs were all over it. Even though this was not the first dead body I had seen, it was still shocking. And this was just my first day in Vietnam. We were ordered to get out of the jeeps. Unconsciously and instinctively I put my hand to my heart.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
"Spirit of an Angel" Vietnam-the untold story

Mothers cry in torment and suffer with emotional pain and agony during every second their son’s are away. The war is as tragic to them as it is to the soldiers that fight the battles. To them it is the worry of what their sons are suffering and the unknown and worry of when and if they will return, and their hope that God is listening to their every prayer.
Vietnam Combat
- This is the first of a series of stories about my experiences in Vietnam
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Excerpt From Life with an Angel
Just as Chuck Miller began to start his rampage toward his son, they began to hear loud footsteps coming from the other end of the alley. They looked, but didn’t see anyone. But the footsteps got louder and louder. They then saw a dark shadow coming toward them. It had their attention. As the figure got closer, they noticed that whoever it was had a serious limp. The suspense was terrifying. Finally, the stranger arrived. He was a horrid-looking demon. Then a strange thing happened. Chuck Miller said, “Dad, is that you?”
At about the same time, Tom said, “Grandpa?”
Sure enough, it was Chuck Miller’s father. Now that may not seem to be too unusual, except for the fact that Tom’s grandpa had been dead for six years.
At about the same time, Tom said, “Grandpa?”
Sure enough, it was Chuck Miller’s father. Now that may not seem to be too unusual, except for the fact that Tom’s grandpa had been dead for six years.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)