Something that Daddy wrote a long time ago when he first started on the internet and joined a vets club. I warn you, he pulls no punches with anyone and his language is course: Becky
NAM vs REAL WORLD
Someone here has made an issue of tours in Nam in the bush versus tours in the "Real World" and they seem to think that being a bush puppy makes them some kind of hot shit, well folks, from my dumb ass redskin point of view, you're suckin hind tit if you think that. Here's how I feel about this issue, if you don't like it, fucken delete it idiot.
There is no shame in the fact that you done your tour in the Real World, There is no shame in having done your tour in Europe, there is no shame is having done your tour on Guam or in Japan. You served where you were needed and you served with Honor, nothing else matters.
It didn't take a lot of brains to hump the boonies with a rifle or a thumper or whatever. The brains came into play in just keeping our young ass's alive. The jungle was a dark and vicious place to have to live, some of us adapted quite well, most didn't. Hell, Saigon was a vicious place to be.
Viet Nam was a leech infested, snake infested, mosquito infested, disease infested and cong infested cesspool that took too many lives for no reason. Many of those who were "Combat" Troops look down their noses at those that did not, and these are about the dumbest shits in the world. Yes there was some vicious fighting and yes they lost friends, but that does not give them any kind of right or what the fuck ever to look down their noses at anyone. All it gives them is the right to wake up each day, say a prayer for their lost and then look around in absolute wonder and say to no one in particular "Well fuck me till it hurts, I fucken ey made it, my dumb ass made it out more or less intact. Thank you, Lord, for giving my dumb ass another chance."
Never forget those that fell in combat, they are the Heroes, they are the one's that left a family behind, they are the one's whose daughters will never know them. No, never forget them not for even a split second, they are a part of you and always will be. Weep for them if you must, have a drink for them if you must, visit them if you must, but always remember this "THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF GOD GO I" They went, they served, they fought, they died, and their families still mourn them as do you. There is no glory in death, dead is fucken dead. The glory is the battle, in counting coup, in making the enemy die. In dying in battle with your enemy, that is the glory of combat, not death, dead is stone fucken cold dead , Count your blessings and love and grieve for your dead, Welcome your Bros home if that is what you must do, but when you welcome them home, welcome yourself home as well. You served, you deserve the welcome yourself. I don't give rats ass where or when you served, all that matters is that you did. Period end of conversation.
If any of you have a problem with this viewpoint, who the hell cares? I damn sure don't. We all have our own viewpoint and this is mine, don't like it, go fuck yourself with handles with barbed wire because I really don't give a flying fuck. Oh yeah, have a nice day
Ferret One-Zero