I’ve been to a lot of Veteran sites. This is my story from the beginning. I was brought up in a Uranium mining town not much like the old west as it was. The town itself was quiet. The people were hell born. Loved to fight. My dad was no exception. A Vietnam veteran he was hell born to fight. And he fought! My earliest memories are learning how to handle a weapon… I was born in Okinawa. I look at the place I was born from a distance and see it’s purity and beauty. It really is very beautiful.
I remember my dad making bets with neighbours. I’d could beat their sons in a fight. I always won… if that’s winning. I remember the first time I knocked someones teethe out. I was 7.
My fight was taken out of me after I left high school. I entered the delayed entry program. Through training I knew things were bad. Went to country. Saw some things I will never say again. At home I met my wife….this woman brought me to me knees. I loved her more than anything.
She died. In front of me. God! I’m so sick. I’m so tired.