I said in a recent post that my father, all those years ago, didn’t go waste his life (because that is what happened; my father never returned; a shell came back to live until 1998) all those years ago to see an American president emulating Hitler.
I have decided to post here a brief excerpt from my little memoir, Saigon 1967, which addresses that exact issue, but from the standpoint of someone who was hopelessly embroiled in the first of America’s optional and, from the viewpoint of the career military, “best war we’ve got”.
Here it is.
“My father fought in the final stages of World War Two in Czechoslovakia. And millions of other Americans had also fought in various parts of the world starting in 1941, or before in the case of those who had joined RAF. And the world was different than it would have been if they had not fought, and I really believed that the world was a vastly better place as a result of their fighting than it would have been if they hadn’t fought. I really believed that it was my turn. I would have preferred to have had a world free of the obligation to go fight somewhere – a world where I could have continued singing and telling jokes with Joe and Dave in a youthful attempt at trying to be something that I had dreamed of for years - but that wasn’t the way the world was. It was clearly my turn. And once the wheels had turned in whatever way they were going to turn and I had gotten my orders to go I would go with, fear, yes, but shored by the certainty and the belief that nothing could abrogate the debt I owed to my father and his generation.”
I continue to owe him and his generation that debt.
That is why I will not shut up until Drumpf is out.