While watching the movie "The Best Years of Our Lives", it reminded me of my first day home.. After ETS at Fort Dix, I had the pleasure of meeting two idiots who called me a baby-killer, (really), while waiting for my flight at Newark, New Jersey. I caught a flight with only three people on it, all of us GI's.It was approx 6 in the moring. Got to my home airport and I couldn't rent a car as I had no credit card, and I couldn't get one for cash as you had to be 25 at that time, (I was only 21). I called my best buddy, and he took me home. No special greetings from Mom, just a "hi, your stuff came in a few days ago". Got a phone call that my sister's camaro broke down.Fixed that, and on my way home, passed my dad coming from the bank. He waved hi, just like it was an ordinary day. Changed from my dress greens, and went on down to the gas station where I held my second job.Spoke to my boss, (his son was killed earlier in the past year in Viet Nam), and he said work was piling up, when was I coming back?? 24 hours at home, and back to the same ole stuff, no de-briefing, no parades, no thank yous', no one clapping or giving me a kiss or a hug..Sorta hurts... But I was proud of myself and my brother and sisters in green and blue.Guess that's what counts..
ETS's outa Dix in 10/71 from Germany. I had already done a tour in Nam in 69/70. I caught a flight out Philly to MSP and on to Billing MT where Mom, Dad and little Brother met me. Folks gave me a great welcome home (both WWII vets) then it was home to the ranch and the next morning I saddled a horse and went way back in the upper pasture and just stared off into nothing just savoring the feeling of being home again.
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"I only use my gun whenever kindness fails"
Forbidden fruits create many jams
While watching the movie "The Best Years of Our Lives", it reminded me of my first day home.. After ETS at Fort Dix, I had the pleasure of meeting two idiots who called me a baby-killer, (really), while waiting for my flight at Newark, New Jersey. I caught a flight with only three people on it, all of us GI's.It was approx 6 in the moring. Got to my home airport and I couldn't rent a car as I had no credit card, and I couldn't get one for cash as you had to be 25 at that time, (I was only 21). I called my best buddy, and he took me home. No special greetings from Mom, just a "hi, your stuff came in a few days ago". Got a phone call that my sister's camaro broke down.Fixed that, and on my way home, passed my dad coming from the bank. He waved hi, just like it was an ordinary day. Changed from my dress greens, and went on down to the gas station where I held my second job.Spoke to my boss, (his son was killed earlier in the past year in Viet Nam), and he said work was piling up, when was I coming back?? 24 hours at home, and back to the same ole stuff, no de-briefing, no parades, no thank yous', no one clapping or giving me a kiss or a hug..Sorta hurts... But I was proud of myself and my brother and sisters in green and blue.Guess that's what counts..
I don't know...I'd say a quiet acceptance back into the fold might be one of the best homecomings possible. I didn't go home after I got out; I went on into the big, wide world instead. And there were times I would've savored the old routine...
