WAR WAR, all wars, has about them certain sameness. They composed of, more or less, equal parts of boredom, fear, exhilaration and sadness. War, means dust, mud, heat, and chilling cold, hunger, thirst, fatigue, blood, death, and comradeship that last forever. WAR, smells of burning cordite, or gun powder, urine, excrement, decayed and putrefying burning flesh. WAR, has the bitter taste of vomit, of warm stale water drunk from a metal canteen. The sounds of WAR is the eardrum-smashing blasts of big guns, exploding mortars and grenades, the whine of shrapnel, the sobbing of the wounded and a silence, a silence so profound you can hear your own breathing, the throbbing of your heart and the blood flowing through your veins. The sights of War, the combat veteran blots mostly, from his memory, hoping it will never return. In KOREA, men cried, cursed and prayed in much the same way, as they did in WWII, Vietnam or any War. You feel the "ícy hand of in your heart, and the surge of adrenaline in your veins. The prayer of the Combat Soldier, "Lord, just give me tomorrow." The nights, oh how I hated those nights. The silence, millions of stars in the big sky, if it was not raining or snowing. Some nights were so black, you could not see your fox hole buddy next to you. Being alone, with your thoughts, thoughts of the good times, with loved ones, and places far away, and waiting, waiting for the Hoards of Chinese to come |
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at you, out of the night, blowing bugles, yelling, throwing grenades and shooting Burp Guns. You never forget the sound of the "Burp-Gun." "Lord, just give me tomorrow." The long awaited dawn filtered through the frozen gun smoke-fog-haze. Combat "crescendo" faded to sporadic bursts of vicious actions at scattered locations in and around the perimeter. Men who thought they would never see the dawn, greeted exhausted "Battle Brothers" with big grins on their powder-smudged faces, checking to see who survived and who be- come memories. Most men who pass through the "Combat Gauntlet," know that each new day is a "Gift" from God. This day may bring us joy, pain, grief, or a mix of all the above. "We don't understand everything that is happening in our lives, but we were given this day for a purpose, a great purpose, if we let Christ lead us. Yesterday is History. Tomorrow, a Mystery, Today, is a Gift that is why it is called, the Present! I think this is special. So live and savor every moment! This life is not a dress rehearsal! Remember, God still has "HIS PLAN" for us. FREEDOM IS NOT FREE! This article was read at the opening of our banquet dinner in St. Louis prior to the invocation by Harold Mulhausen. The article was written by "Muley" about four years ago and is part of his "Tell American Program" that is presented to school children and churches. In his opinion all |
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children need to hear this article concerning war and to know "FREEDOM IS NOT FREE."
When "Muley" read the article many of the Marines and guests came to him after the banquet and asked for a copy. He emailed me the article and asked if it could be in published in this issue of the REUNION NEWSLETTER. I forwarded his article by email to other members of "Stable Able One Seven" who did not attend the reunion. I received this comment from Eddie H. Arechiga 3rdSqd 1stPlt 11/51-9/52. By the way Eddie just joined our association on the 7th of October. "Shifty, Thanks for forwarding the Invocation. I had a "Kodak moment" reading that. Muley did a superlative job and I appreciate very much having received it. So sorry I missed the gathering, just could not leave the Inn. (Remember my wife and I run a family Bed & Breakfast here in Santa Barbara). We had a full house and between the hours of 1600 and 1800 we serve free wine, port, fruits, breads, cheeses, fresh pastries and assorted goodies. The tearoom and living room were full; I took the liberty to read the Invocation aloud to our guests. Most were veterans from WWII, Korea and Nam. When I finished, there was complete silence. Two wives were crying and the men were contemplative. The eldest gentleman stood and raised his glass, everyone stood. He offered a toast to our fighting men and all we owe them. Amid resounding, "Here, Here's" we drank a toast. Thanks for sending it. It was |
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Semper Fi |