Monsoon Delight: by Loyd Cates

Monsoon Season During Vietnam War

This is the peak of the monsoon season in South Vietnam. It is miserable in the jungle.

Monsoon Delight

by Loyd Cates

The rain is relentless day after day
Nothing you do keeps the ringworm away
Jungle rot eats at your crotch
All you can do is scratch and watch

You share your blood with the devious leech
They affix themselves where you can’t reach
While those nasty bastards suck you dry
The relentless rain conceals the sky

Just trying to eat becomes a chore
Go away rain, you relentless whore
The water flows like a flooded creek
I ain’t slept in a friggin’ week

Rusty gear will get you killed
Cleaning your rifle becomes a skill
But you better do it if you want to live
You only have one life to give

Big assed mosquitoes have one hell of a bite
They swarm your body both day and night
You do what you can just to endure
But they are a plague, that’s for damn sure

No matter how wet it’s always hot
This humid air is thick as snot
I am sick of this rain but it don’t matter
The mosquitoes and leeches just keep getting fatter

One of these days I will board that jet
Never again will my ass be wet
This relentless rain, months of it
Monsoon rain, I’m sick of this shit.

SSG Cates RVN '69-'70
199th Light Infantry Brigade D5/12

Also by Loyd Cates:

Maybe Tomorrow

The Sport of Kings

Memorial Day: by Loyd Cates

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


Add your opinion, thought, or comment, about this post. You are also invited to write about anything you want to share. Send it to me in an e-mail and I will be proud to post it for you.

Memoirs From Nam is YOUR blog.

Maybe Tomorrow: by Loyd Cates

Vietnam Vet Reading a Letter From Home

Perhaps the most overlooked wound of war is a broken heart. 

We all lived for the day we would return to "the world" to be reunited with our spouse or girlfriend, families and life-long friends. It motivated us, we dreamed about it, and it gave us a reason to survive.

I suspect most of us knew someone who received a "Dear John" letter during his tour. I can't imagine what goes on inside the mind of a young man whose entire world is turned upside down by a few written words from the person he lived for. 

I have often wondered what happened to these men. I suspect the majority found someone else and moved on with their lives. 

But what becomes of a man whose world was suspended many years ago, and yet he still lives? 

Maybe Tomorrow

A fragile high school yearbook 

and two fading pictures 

is all that remains. 

These are my treasures 

and most valuable possessions. 

Each day they become more cherished. 

Some would say I am approaching 

the “winter of my life”, but truthfully, 

that began the day you said goodbye. 

On the very last page of the yearbook 

is a long and lovely affirmation 

professing your love for me 

and acknowledging mine for you. 

I can recite it word for word 

yet I often read it aloud 

while pretending 

we are speaking face to face. 

My love is so intense 

I do not hear your words, 

I only delight in your presence.

I have no sense of where you are, 

what you do, or if you are content. 

I realize, I do not have the right 

to know these things, 

but my heart never asks 

for permission to wonder. 

Broken hearts are rebellious. 

As I lazily doze 

in my old threadbare chair, 

I am pleasingly disturbed 

by a waft of your sweet scent 

as it floats on a gentle breeze

outside my window. 

I recognize it without doubt 

and it is like candy to a child.

My memory whispers your name 

and my soul is comforted 

by your presence. 

Yes, it is only a dream, 

but it is mine. 

I cling to it with all I have 

and all I am.

Your image comes into focus 

and I am mesmerized. 

You are even more beautiful than yesterday. 

We touch and I am overcome 

with a serenity that warms my body 

and brings comfort to my marrow. 

My world is absolute 

and my prayers answered. 

Is it possible I am conscious? 

Is this bona fide? 

No, it is all as empty as my arms. 

I must dream harder tomorrow 

and I will.

Each day I waken 

to the Wilderness that is my heart 

and I hope, pray and sometimes mourn. 

And then I do it again tomorrow 

and tomorrow 

and tomorrow.

My need for you grows stronger each day 

but age weakens me and I often tire. 

I will continue my quest 

until my parting breath 

because I must. 

I simply must. 

If I had the opportunity 

to strike a Devil’s bargain 

I would seize it 

like a starving wolf to a bone.

After so many years, 

my thoughts debate my memory 

as to the sound of your voice, 

the softness of your skin, 

or even the sparkle in your eyes. 

I can recall the way you made me feel 

as if it was this morning, 

because it was.

Can one so old remember 

the passion of innocent love 

and youthful wonderment? 

I can, or else I am daft. 

After so many years 

and so many dreams 

I am sometimes confused. 

I will investigate no further today 

as I am tired 

and my mind is teeming 

with pleasing thoughts 

that need not be disturbed. 

And if there is another tomorrow, 

there is another dream 

and that is my deliverance 

Loyd Cates

and my salvation.

SSG Cates RVN '69-'70
199th Light Infantry Brigade


Also by Loyd Cates:

The Sport of Kings

Memorial Day: by Loyd Cates



“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


Add your opinion, thought, or comment, about this post. You are also invited to write about anything you want to share. Send it to me in an e-mail and I will be proud to post it for you.

Memoirs From Nam is YOUR blog.

Live Free or Die: by Roger Sanchez

Don't Tread On Me

It is August 29, 2014, and in the past year or so, I have been thinking a lot about our country, our government, and the rising tensions in the Middle East.

It is my opinion after watching the television news on the main stream media and Fox News, that many Americans are not truly informed or simply don’t care about what goes on in the world.

Today, some things are evident to me: the Middle East is a mess, our government is broken, and Radical Islam -- if not all of Islam -- is a real threat to America and the free world. 

I see that the premise of Islam is to control the world in some form, or fashion. From what I can see, Islam is a religion not of free will, but of obedience to men who claim that they have authority through their Prophet to be judge, jury, and executioner.

I am a Christian whose God gives me free will to choose between good and evil, and based on those choices, someone who must be judged in what we believe is a final judgment. But whether you believe in a religion or not, as Americans we should all believe in one important tenet, “Freedom”.

[TENET: a principle, belief, or doctrine generally held to be true; especially: one held in common by members of an organization, movement, or profession]

Now with the battle cry from ISIL (The Islamic State in Iraq), “Convert or Die!", our battle cry should be “Live Free or Die”. What ISIL has shown is that there will be no mercy for those who do not convert to their way of thinking. 

For those of us in America who think that we can be diplomatic, or try to reason with the ISIL, or other Islamic terror groups, we might as well put a gun to our head and pull the trigger.  It will be far less traumatic than what ISIL has in mind.

ISIL has already said that they are hell bent on seeing America punished and made to conform to Islam or die. I say then, "I will fight to the death.  Will you?" 

So I believe we must get back to what made America great, the Constitution of the United States, and pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America. Either you are a true American, a resident living here legally who believes in the American way, or you are not.

There is a real threat looming overhead today that is as real as the evil axis that caused us to fight for our freedom during World War Two.  We pulled together then. Will we do so now? 

True Americans must now be like Paul Revere during the Revolutionary War and sound the alarm. Only instead of, "The British are coming!", the call should be, “Wake Up America to the threat of Radical Islam!"

GySgt Roger A. Sanchez Sr.

Roger Sanchez

U.S. Marine Corps Retired 1969-1991

Other Articles by Roger Sanchez:

The Home Front

A Warrior's Dream: by Roger A. Sanchez

Author of: "Black Dragon Red Sun, The Vietnam War"
Available at Amazon

Roger's Blog

Connect with Roger on Twitter

See Also:

Homeland Militia Survey: by James Hathorn - August 24, 2014

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


Add your opinion, thought, or comment, about this post. You are also invited to write about anything you want to share. Send it to me in an e-mail and I will be proud to post it for you.

Memoirs From Nam is YOUR blog.

Inside the Wire: by Tom Allemeier

E-book
Published by Smashwords
$1.99
Word Count:  59,630

About the Book:

The majority of American troops in Vietnam were not involved in the shooting war. They did have their issues, however.

Written over 30 years ago, this series of anecdotes takes you through two years in the life of one such soldier, from being drafted until after being discharged. 

From the Local Draft Boards to Nixon’s War on Drugs, it’s all here.

Buy on Smashwords

An Interview with Tom Allemeier

Tom Allemeier

About the Author

Tom Allemeier was born in Lima, Ohio, in 1950. He spent his early childhood playing football and baseball with the neighbor boys, and exploring the woods with his dog, Skip.

His parents divorced when he was ten and he spent the next few years living in Columbus, Ohio, and downtown Lima.  He then returned to live with his father and stepmother in his childhood home until he graduated from Elida High School in 1969.

Allemeier was drafted into the Army in March 1970, spent fourteen months in Vietnam and served until October 1972.

He worked a number of jobs and then, still working, attended Ohio State University and graduated in 1990 with a bachelor's degree in journalism.

In 1996, he returned to Vietnam as a tourist, fell in love with the place, and he has been living and working there ever since as an English teacher at the International English School in Ho Chi Minh City.

Visit Tom Allemeier on Facebook

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


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A Return to Vietnam: by Byron Edgington

Byron Edgington's Return Visit to Vietnam - 1992

For veterans of the war in Vietnam considering a return visit, I encourage you to do so. 

I went back in 1992, and the experience was not only healing, it was energizing, fun, revealing and filled with gratifying insights.

It was, admittedly, one of the stranger experiences of my life when the airplane stopped at the gate, and I looked out the window at a sign that said: "Welcome to Hanoi International Airport."

It was a bit unsettling, but oddly soothing in a way, to know that Vietnam might be just another tourist destination. (The sign was in English.) Indeed, many of the people I interacted with spoke English. This was one of the first revelations. Vietnamese kids study English very early in school. Indeed, I was told that more than ninety percent of Vietnamese people are literate.

I stayed in Hanoi two days, visited Hoan Kiem Lake in downtown Hanoi made famous by a certain Naval aviator who parachuted into it in October 1967, a fellow named John McCain. I drove by the old central prison where McCain spent the next six years as a POW, the infamous Hanoi Hilton. I went to the mausoleum where Ho Chi Minh lies in state, guarded day and night by the same North Vietnamese soldiers whose fathers likely took pot shots at me.

Speaking of which, the above photograph was taken near the national park forty miles from Hanoi. The fellow seated to my right was a retired NVA soldier. 

In the course of our conversation, we came to realize that he and I shared the experience of war. He’d been posted in and around Khe Sanh and the northern end of the AShau Valley, the same areas I flew, and at the same time. 

Sitting next to my old enemy, I realized—as I’m sure he did—that twenty years before we posed for this picture I may very well have flown my Huey over his position in South Vietnam, and he may very well have put my aircraft in his gunsights.

With a car and my interpreter, I traveled around my old AO, visited what’s left of Camp Eagle, (my old base), and toured the old city of Hue’. From Hue’ & Phu Bai I drove south, across the Hai Van Pass, into Da Nang, then to Marble Mountain and Hoi An. The accommodations were first rate, roads (mostly) excellent and when I went in October, the weather was perfect.

The people I met were incredibly friendly, welcoming, warm and happy to see a returning GI. They were of another generation, mostly, so the war was a memory to them at best, a lesson in school for the most part. For those who lived through it, they seemed willing to discuss it, but preferred to move on to what the new Vietnam looked like.

So despite the fact that Vietnam is still very much a communist, one-party country, it has recovered very well from the years of war and sacrifice, and is taking its place in South Asia as an economy to be reckoned with. 

My return visit was a high point of my life. I encourage anyone who served there to go back. It’s a trip you won’t regret taking. 

Byron Edgington

Byron Edgington

The SkyWriter

Other Articles by Byron Edgington:

The War That Will Not Let Us RestWar: A Waste of Youth
The Right Seat is the Wrong Seat
Jim, Frank, and The Snake
Smokey, The Alcoholic Pup

Book:
The Sky Behind Me: A Memoir of Flying & Life 

Byron's Website

Byron's Blog

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


Add your opinion, thought, or comment, about this post. You are also invited to write about anything you want to share. Send it to me in an e-mail and I will be proud to post it for you.

Memoirs From Nam is YOUR blog.

The Marine and The Cure: by Frank Fox

Frank Fox

It doesn't hurt to include a little humor from the days during the Vietnam conflict.

I remember when we were stationed at Kaneohe Marine Corp Air Station in 1967-68, we had this Marine who wanted out of the Marine Corp -- and he most definitely didn't want to go to Vietnam.

He would go to the library, look through some medical books, and then show up at sick bay, trying to convince the Doc that he had some exotic malady.  Doc easily saw through it and showed him where he was just fine. 

One night when I was was on duty in the emergency room, I heard someone running up the sidewalk. A Marine came in the front door, sat down on the stairs to the clinic and he was gulping large breaths of air. I recognized him right away from the stories the other Corpsman had passed along.  

At first, he wouldn't answer any of my questions about what was wrong with him (this time). Then finally, he told me he had seen a ghost in the barracks squad bay the last two nights in a row. 

Well, I took him back to the emergency room, told him to relax and I would be right back.  I said we had a new drug just for that and I would get it for him. 

In Corpsman school, the nurses would watch to see if we were paying attention when we practiced giving each other shots in class. 

When it was necessary to reconstitute an injectable medication (some came in powder form), we were taught to use sterile saline, since sterile saline doesn't hurt when injected.  We were to inject the sterile saline into the powder, shake it, then we could inject the patient.  (This isn't done as often these days). 

Anyway, the fun-loving Nurses would mix vials of sterile saline in with vials of sterile water, just to see if we were paying attention and reading labels. Sterile saline doesn't hurt when injected, but sterile water will hurt like the blazes. 

So in class every now and again, you would hear someone holler, and the Nurse would admonish us all about not reading labels. 

So anyhow, I figured if I could make his visit uncomfortable enough, we would stop seeing him and his list of symptoms as often -- some of which were female-related, if you catch my drift.  (This was no rocket scientist).

I woke up the duty MD and told him what I wanted to do. He said, "But Frank, that will be painful."  I smiled and he caught on to me and said, "Don't make it too painful."  I told him I would give him 1/2 cc ... in each arm. 

So I went back to my Marine and told him this was a specific new drug for people who see ghosts. I gave him the first injection and he started to wiggle against the needle a bit. "Damn Doc, is it supposed to hurt like that?" 

I said, "Unfortunately, yes. Just rest a bit and then I will give you the other injection."  His eyes dilated in anticipation. 

Ten minutes later, I came back.  He said, "I think it's working, Doc." 

I said, "Okay, that's good.  But I still need to give you the other shot for good measure, you know, to lessen the likelihood of a recurrence." 

After the second injection, I had him rest a moment to let it all sink in.  Then I turned him loose, and said, "I think that will do it. Come back in, if it happens again." 

That was the end of his visits to our medical facility.  He was cured.

Frank Fox
Combat Medic
Sea/Air Rescue
US Navy with USMC
August 1964 – August 1970 (6 years 1 month)

More Articles by Frank Fox:

More Thoughts on War and Youth

Opinions, Thoughts and Feelings

A Different Perspective

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


Add your opinion, thought, or comment, about this post. You are also invited to write about anything you want to share. Send it to me and I will be proud to post it for you.  E-mail CJ

Memoirs From Nam is YOUR blog.