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