Sunday, June 8, 2008

How you bring them back counts, they don't forget...


I came back from Vietnam, alone, sure there were lots of soldiers on the jet but I didn't know any of them, and the stewardesses were wonderful - but I still couldn't talk to women so they were all safe. There was a stop for fuel in Hawaii, but didn't get far from the plane, then we flew on to Washington State and landed in the dark. Got on a bus, rode to Fort Lewis, and into outprocessing. We were weighed and measured, issued a new Class A uniform with all awards and decorations and fed a steak dinner. Given our orders for our next assignment, 82nd Airborne Fort Bragg for me (I was finally so lucky!) then paid, tickets issued for our flights out to leave destination and given the day to report to next unit - and sent off into the night and America the unknown. It was on that flight I had the woman, with daughter and anxiously hovering husband tell me that she wanted to thank me for serving in Vietnam. I was dumb, mute, and unable to say anything because of the shock - that she would thank me, that she had no idea what the war was to me and I wasn't going to dump it on her. I had been told America was ashamed of me and all those other baby killers and war ravagers, so met the first of many lies by mainstream media. I did get home, I did settle in, I did keep a lot to myself (still do) and I should have ridden off on my motorcycle then, but didn't.

At 12:30 am (dark of Saturday morning), on my motorcycle I met some of the Patriot Guard Riders at Galloping Gertie's Cafe, and rode onto Fort Lewis, got lost on the wrong road in the dark, back tracked and found the place I was to be, and was issued a flag for carry. Instructions were simple, how to hold the flag, what the commands were and joined the unit welcoming back the troops from the 4th Brigade of the 2nd Infantry Division, a Stryker unit coming back from Iraq, 240 in the group and fourteen months of deployment to Operation Iraqi Freedom. As we waited the arrival of the soldiers I looked at the families, friends and children with flags and wishes and dreams and making noise, waiting for the soldiers and the reunion. I was told by another PGR that two of the women waiting were War Widows, their husbands had died earlier. I remember the battalion's return from the Gulf War I, flags flying, battalion formation and families waiting on Pope AFB, North Carolina - signs made and wishes and dreams and noise.

Finally the buses pull up outside, soldiers getting off lining up and instructed and they are coming in. They march in passing the line of American flags held by the Patriot Guard Riders, and our children. This is a family event. There was some canned message by a Command Sergeant Major about the job the Brigade had done to improve life in Iraq, I didn't like it because it was poor sound, poor form and just so wrong for a serving Sergeant Major not to be here in person (only my personal opinion) - but that they had done something important did need to be said loud and often. Once they were all lined up, everyone got up for the Prayer of Thanksgiving and Memory, and the National Anthem to salute and remember, then a member of the Brigade Staff spoke a few words, but he didn't spend too much time, the important thing was to get the unit dismissed and joined up with their family and friends. So he did and they did and we marched out to return the flags to the car, we got our own debriefing and pep talk and thanks for honoring the retuning soldiers. This was my first, and another man was at his first and we received a Mission Accomplished tag from the Commander. So we rode off in the dark, 3 am in the morning, I returned home feeling the night well spent.

After church today, I rode to Fort Lewis joining the already prepared Patriot Guard Riders, getting a flag, instructions and into line. The times had been changing all weekend and I had missed the second reception because of conflicting schedules and sliding arrival times. It wasn't fifteen minutes after I arrived that we were inside on line and waiting, and five minutes later the buses arrived with the soldiers, the families and friends, the canned Command Sergeant Major's story about the Brigade's mission accomplishments, the Prayer, the National anthem and the new Brigade Staff Officer to welcome the returning soldiers and to give the command to dismiss. We marched outside, rolled the flags or folded them and packed up, debriefed and thanked by almost absent commanders, who got there just before our performance (a wrong turn along the road). I liked that those that weren't in command stepped up and did the correct thing at the time - the way it works in the little wars I was privileged to attend.

I don't know what the soldiers think of motorcyclists in leathers and jeans standing with flags at their return, but I know how I feel being part of it - I feel great, they are owed so much more but this I can do. As I am sure the reason we had the Armed Forces that could win in Iraq was because of Vietnam, I am sure the reason the Patriot Guard Riders show up is because of the void from Vietnam Vets' returns. How you bring them back counts, you only get one first impression... Toy Soldier sums his return up well. From the point of view of those that waited...
SondraK

3 comments:

Jeffro said...

Thank you, Earl. I was never in the military, but I can sure thank you for what you did and still continue to do for our country.

Old NFO said...

Thanks Earl! I know the troops appreciate it, and I appreciate what the PGR is doing to honor those coming back. You're right, we got nothing, if not spit on...

Anonymous said...

I don't know if you just joined or if these were your first missions or not, but I always like hearing from fellow PGR members. I don't get to play nearly as often as I'd like, but it is an important mission and I urge anyone and everyone to get involved...biker or not.

Thank you for your service my brother, both "back when" and now.