Three Men and a Map...

While eating breakfast in Fulton today, Tommy and I listened as three men shared memories from 1968-1971. Memories of Vietnam bounced around the restaurant and across the aisles as a newly acquired map of Vietnam was discussed. One man had received the map from the VFW. He was proud of it, showing off the details of all the places he had been stationed. Soon another man wanted to see the map. These two men were later joined by the third gentleman, each one looking at the map and remembering their stay in Vietnam. They were, once again teenagers with guns, young men forced to grow up too fast. The restaurant became quiet as we listened to their memories. Each man, with his words, painted a picture of Vietnam.

I was surprised at the twists and turns of the conversation. War was not the subject. War was the unseen 'elephant' in the room. One man pointed to a place on the map where he had been stationed. Another man said," I was there too."  They looked each other in the eye and nodded. The first man shook his head, two minutes of silence followed as they mentally relived something they did not want to conjure up by speaking it aloud.

When the conversation resumed a tall black man took the discussion in a different direction. He said, "I fell in love with a woman over there. You know what I mean?" His companion said, "I know what you mean." 

The black man said, "Man, I loved her. She was a tiny woman with long black hair down past her waist." He paused and remembered her all over again. He talked about staying with her and her three brothers every time he got a pass. He laughed when he spoke of her brothers, evidently, they hated him with a passion. He said he never slept soundly there. He always had one eye open...just in case. He spoke softly as he remembered, " She cried when I told her I was going home. She wanted me to stay. I saw her three brothers in the background and knew I was going home." He gave a soft laugh and left the conversation for a while.

A short husky redheaded man, the owner of the map, picked up the conversation. He recalled the horror of the snakes he saw while "in country." He shuddered at the memory of walking upon one called a 'two-step'...if it bit you, two steps was the amount of time you had to live. His buddy killed the snake he was about to step on. The man said, "I had nightmares for three days about that damn snake!" His companions grunted and agreed.

The third man was small and quiet. When he talked he recalled the rice patties. He told how they were the 'toilets' in Vietnam at that time. He said, "even today, I can seldom eat rice." Again, all three men agreed. 

Eventually, the conversation ceased. Each man needed to be somewhere else. They stood, shook hands and gave each other a hug as they departed. Each one going their separate way. I wanted to give them a standing ovation for sharing their memories, but I didn't.

Tommy and I finished our breakfast. We didn't talk much. We were both still in Vietnam with a beautiful girl, a killer snake and a bowl of dirty rice.