My Life Between the Dimensions

 Jelly Donuts IF IT TAKES YOU THREE BITES AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T FOUND THE DOT OF JELLY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DANGED THING, IT AIN’T NO JELLY DONUT! I don’t like what’s happening in my world. Things are looking bad.  We have one crisis after another.  We focus too much on military arsenals, technologies, politics, whether we are wearing the right stuff, and what other people think of us on social media.  We have forgotten how to correctly do the simple stuff that makes life worth living. Like making a decent jelly donut. Or knowing a decent jelly donut when we see it. College isn’t for everyone.  Trade school isn’t either.  Apprenticeship is hard and bosses are annoying anyway.  So it seems many become entrepreneurs. They become bakers of donuts.  Or rather they become owners of places that employ people who don’t require sleep to bake donuts. How hard can that be?  You hire some people to show up just when the bars are closing, and I submit ma...

 REMEMBERING A KINDNESS I write this while remembering the sensitivity of a family member.  It is not about the artifact, though, in itself it is a remarkable collector piece.  It measures 4 ⅝” by 3” at its widest point.  Made of hematite, it is as heavy as lead.  This ax head was a valued commodity and a real prize in its day.  It was heavily used by its owner, a right-handed individual, and served as an instrument of war, as well as a utilitarian function. About 1954, for those who can recall the time, on the Poplar Bluff side of the Highway 67 bridge above Old Greenville in Wayne County, Missouri stood an old trading post.  The owner worked diligently collecting artifacts to sell, and on the sly, chipped arrowheads of his own to pass off to unwary tourists passing through.  His collection of the real stuff was impressive though.  Mother and Dad always stopped to let me look and on one occasion, allowed me to buy a couple of arrowheads....

A couple of months before my time elapsed in Vietnam, Colonel John Terrell Carley left as Brigade Commander and he was promoted to a position in Saigon as Brigadier General. I remember him as tough as nails, methodical, and tremendously dedicated. A master tactician. Yet he noticed me, recognized my contributions and made me feel important and I will always feel honored to have served under him. His departure culminated in the dissolution of the Brigade  Headquarters Recon Team and reassignment of its remaining members to other units. The new Brigade Commander was a Lieutenant Colonel, younger, and though very committed, he did not bond with many of the NCO’s.  His commitment to the war effort was clear, though his seemingly unwillingness to communicate did not make the NCO’s feel as integral to the success of the Operations team. I will not mention his name, as I do not wish to go on record as being less than respectful to my commanding officer. The new Brigade Commander (L) ...

However physically demanding my brief time as a LRRP had been, the responsibilities of holding so many lives in my hands in Headquarters Command Operations--- dependent upon me and my ability to process situations quickly and accurately and to direct the needed tactical support every minute of every night---  demanded a whole other level of commitment and sacrifice.. It took everything, absolutely everything of which I am capable . The brigade operation team.  A duty shift in 1969 with from L-R: Major Austin, Operations Officer; Specialist 5th Class Terry Brown, Operations Artillery Forward Observer; Sergeant Keith Wayne Ragan, Operations NCO. My last months in Vietnam as the Brigade Night Duty NCO were as first described in my duties as Day Duty NCO. The big difference was there were no convoys moving, ambushes were positioned for the night and were not advancing, and the curfew for civilians was in effect making all locals instant Viet Cong if they were active past this time...

  Somewhere between 0900 and 1000 hours I was walking into the Headquarters mess hall hooch, and the cooks would feed me whatever and however much of anything I wanted for breakfast...pancakes, eggs any way I wanted them, bacon, sausage, biscuits, toast, and S.O.S (chipped beef and gravy would be the polite translation).  I began to gain some weight back to my emaciated frame. Decompressing with some hoops. 1969. I usually would let a little time pass to decompress, often de-stressing on the makeshift basketball court, before lifting the mosquito netting and crawling into my bunk in my room at the back of the barracks. With my work now from 2300 hrs to 0900 hrs, more if required for debriefing completing sitreps, ect., daytime sleep was an adjustment, and I was always restless from the stresses of the previous night, drenched with sweat and on edge. My brain could never let go of the sounds, the voices, the urgencies of the night before. My nest. 1968-1969. Nam, our hooch “Mo...

Photo attributed on Twitter to Mary Todd Since when has political affiliation been more central to self-identification than being, in every sense of the word, an American? The Conservative agenda has at its fringe a fraction of people that identify as such, but do not represent in any way the majority of the party membership.  I am speaking of the depraved individuals that identify as white supremacists.  There is no denying their right to believe that way based on the facets and core values of our republic.  I say that with the caveat that that belief may be a right, but promoting, enacting or in any way condoning violence to the other Americans of this country--of every creed, race, life choices, and religions is abhorrent and a disgrace to the American creed.  Further, it is illegal and immoral. Most of the fine people I have known over the course of my life on this planet that identify with the Republican Party are of like mind as I am.  Yet racists are amon...

  THE DI AN DIARY--MEMOIRS FROM THE VIETNAM WAR PART FIVE: DEJAVU--BLACK TO RED AND A MARRIAGE After a shower one day in base camp, I walked into the back door of the hooch into my quarters to find the Headquarters and Headquarters Company orderly standing there with a crooked grin on his face.  I was told to dress and report to the 2nd Brigade Headquarters Executive Officer (XO).   I was to cross that dusty road once again to the TOC and report to Sergeant Major Demarinus in Tactical Operations.  For what I was unsure. The conversation turned out to be short and ended with a welcome back from Captain Roberts, the XO.   Captain Roberts was always one of my favorites, a likable man, gentle in nature and always with his Bible close at hand.  It was the news I was both hoping for and fearful of...a reassignment back to Headquarters Operations as the Night Duty NCO for Tactical Operations.  The new LRRP Team Leader would be arriving in a day or two. The ti...

The Di An Diary--Memoirs From The Vietnam War Part Four: Ghosts Along The Rivers    Situational map of the 2nd Brigade’s area of operations for the 1st Infantry Division.  Di An forward base  Camp is in yellow. Though my time in field operations was short, I write about it in detail because it is not something that I heretofore discussed in detail with friends or family.  I do, however, want to remind those interested that this was not a substantial part of my overall tour in the Vietnam War.  The greatest amount of my tour was spent in “the pit”, the Headquarters Tactical Operations bunker.  But, to continue with my recollections of long range recon, I provide these additional insights: We operated in an area between the Song Saigon and the Song Dong Nai Rivers on a northern line from roughly Phu Cuong on the west, connecting eastward to the west bank opposite Bien Hoa.  Everything south of that line between the rivers through Thu Duc to an area ...