Tuesday, October 28, 1969 – Camp Eagle, Vietnam.

Hi Lover,

It’s late, so this may not be very long.  Before I started on this I wrote Brian and the folks.  Didn’t think they would take so long.  In the folks’ letter I kind of got carried away when I answered Mom’s question on what I thought of M-Day.  One thing’s for sure tho – I can’t express myself in writing very well, at least not to my satisfaction.

I have three letters of yours here to answer – written three days in a row.  Keep it up – I love it!

First off I’ll answer your question about china for your folks.  Remember I said your Xmas gift was on its way?  That’s china.  You can give that to your folks if you wish, and we can get yours later on.  Or you can keep it yourself, whatever you decide.  I should tell you that it’s as close to your favorite pattern as I could find, so unless you’d want the same pattern as your mom you’ll have to settle for something else.

This is Thursday the 30th now.  Sorry this is taking so long, but I’ve got a ship in the hanger that’s giving me a headache, so I had to work last night.  I’m a team leader now, which means twice the work.  Hope to get it and tomorrow.

Did I tell you about the crashed ship they lifted in the other day?  I don’t think so.  Seven people had been killed in it. The two pilots were still trapped inside, so we had to take crow bars and hack saws to get them out.

I’d like to make this a long letter tonite, but I’m just too damn tired.  So I’m going to bed and dream about you.  That’s the next best thing to being with you.  I love you Reet!



P.S. It was all Dex’s idea – your date.  Came as a surprise to me.

My father has worked to remove the dead bodies of soldiers from a helicopter.

There are some things you just can’t imagine, and this falls into that category.  You look at people walking down the street every day, strangers and people you know, and never really know what they’ve experienced in their lives.  How many of them have had to do something like this?  Or worse?  How many people do you know who have never told you about the pain and suffering they’ve witnessed?

Would my father, if he were still alive, have ever told me this story?  Or would he have been like so many veterans and kept it all inside to avoid laying the burden on those he loved?

I desperately hope we would have the type of relationship that would allow him to share these painful experiences.