Monday, April 28, 2014
Morro Bay, Festival 2014
Yesterday Rhonda and I drove down to the beach to see part of the kite Festival. It was very colorful, and seemed to be more of a turnout this year. I walked a little across the dunes and took some pictures.
Using a Photoshop technique out of bounds I edited the picture of the kite I'm posting here.
Using a Photoshop technique out of bounds I edited the picture of the kite I'm posting here.
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Reuniting with the man who drove the tank that I was riding on into an ambush in 1968
I recently reunited with the commander of the tank that I rode into an ambush on January 24, 1968. This reuniting was by phone and although our conversation was brief it was great to share our memories of one afternoon 48 years ago.
It turns out that the nickname for the tank I was riding on was Why Me. To me it was ironic that I would be trying to hide behind that tank barrel with those words painted on the opposite side.
Although it was only an afternoon of my life it was comforting to talk to someone who shared that experience with me. It turned out the man that I talked to was the man that I had placed a field dressing on his severely damaged hand and arm.
Thank you Harry for reaching out and allowing yourself to revisit that horrible afternoon and sharing your story with me.
The story of this event in my life is recorded in my book Whiteblooms. It is the chapter titled Seven Out Of 55
It turns out that the nickname for the tank I was riding on was Why Me. To me it was ironic that I would be trying to hide behind that tank barrel with those words painted on the opposite side.
Although it was only an afternoon of my life it was comforting to talk to someone who shared that experience with me. It turned out the man that I talked to was the man that I had placed a field dressing on his severely damaged hand and arm.
Thank you Harry for reaching out and allowing yourself to revisit that horrible afternoon and sharing your story with me.
The story of this event in my life is recorded in my book Whiteblooms. It is the chapter titled Seven Out Of 55
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
I now have three books available in paperback as well as Kindle versions. Information about these books is located at the following address www.whitebloom.wix.com./whiteblooms
Addition to 35 Letters from Vietnam
I was going through some writings yesterday and came upon something that I wrote in 2001. I resubmitted the interior files to my book 35 letters From Vietnam to include the following.
August 20, 2001
I fought against men in a foreign land. I listened as the bullets and rockets went by. When the bullets and pieces of rockets would be stopped by young men, sometimes the young men would die. Always the pain always the fear, never the question what are we doing here. Our country said we were needed and might have to give our lives, they never said our youth would be lost. They never said you will become a stranger to the ones you left behind, your life will be changed if you survive.
Over mountains, through Rice paddies soaked with rain, and soaked with fear. Hungry, thirsty no one to hold but dying friends who would never grow old. Coming home after being through hell to be called names instead of being held. No one to comfort no love for the soul, leaving behind friends that would never grow old. The years passed, the stories of how wrong we were to fight and die, talk of the waste of life. Talk of remorse for the hurt we caused the failures of our plan, the only war we ever lost.
Popular words to say so easy if everyone agrees but I hope my voice is heard in history. We fought we died we paid more than anyone should have to pay so you can stand in a free country and speak words that are popular to say.
August 20, 2001
I fought against men in a foreign land. I listened as the bullets and rockets went by. When the bullets and pieces of rockets would be stopped by young men, sometimes the young men would die. Always the pain always the fear, never the question what are we doing here. Our country said we were needed and might have to give our lives, they never said our youth would be lost. They never said you will become a stranger to the ones you left behind, your life will be changed if you survive.
Over mountains, through Rice paddies soaked with rain, and soaked with fear. Hungry, thirsty no one to hold but dying friends who would never grow old. Coming home after being through hell to be called names instead of being held. No one to comfort no love for the soul, leaving behind friends that would never grow old. The years passed, the stories of how wrong we were to fight and die, talk of the waste of life. Talk of remorse for the hurt we caused the failures of our plan, the only war we ever lost.
Popular words to say so easy if everyone agrees but I hope my voice is heard in history. We fought we died we paid more than anyone should have to pay so you can stand in a free country and speak words that are popular to say.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Recently published Whiteblooms on Kindle and after reading my free copy found a lot of mistakes toward the end of book. In dictating unless I am more diligent the program will pick up the wrong word and I found these in my read. I apologize to the folks who downloaded a free copy for these mistakes. I have republished as of today and will check again to see if I missed anything else. Lesson learned to be more attentive to the mistaken words from my dictation program and to not be in such a rush to publish.
Billy
Billy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)