|
| More and more old friends seem to be finding me as the
internet expands; and it's a good thing, I guess, except for
one revelation. They keep speaking of things of which I have
absolutely no recollection. Apparently, I was stationed with
them in the time frame that they speak of, and must have
been somewhere in the area when this stuff happened, but the
events are washed from my memory as if they never were. Gone
like the moisture from a quick summer shower that fell on
arid ground after a drought.
A guy I was stationed
with in Montana spoke of a fire that took place in the
trailer park section of the housing area while I was there.
The entire Squadron fell out to fight it; total blank for
me, although I remember the trailer park well enough. Maybe
I was on duty at the time the fire occurred, but
nevertheless, I should remember the event. I mean, when
you're isolated out in the middle of nowhere, little things
like housing units burning down should stick in your memory,
if for no other reason than they broke the monotony.
However, I've discovered that those cobwebs don't just hang
out in my mind. I'm not the only one afflicted with CRS. One
fellow didn't remember being mortared and rocketed
repeatedly in Tay Ninh West until I reminded him. He
recalled attacks while we were on Trang Sup, a few miles
outside of Tay Ninh, but not the attacks in Tay Ninh until I
brought them up.
It's a good thing I did, since he
was trying to get compensation for PTSD symptoms from the VA
and was looking for someone to verify that he had been under
hostile fire while in the Nam. Amazing that he would forget
events that had lasted several days, the very events that
would help bolster his claim. Maybe he was on one of the
first flights out, and what happened is more vivid in my
memory because the Captain and I were the last to leave.
I suppose it's inevitable that memory falters as the
frost gathers on our pumpkin heads in the autumn of our
years. Trouble is, I keep wondering how much juicy stuff has
slipped into the sub-basement of my consciousness over the
years. What delicious, titillating adventures am I
forgetting to drag out and savor anew? In view of some of
the things I do remember, I could definitely be missing out.
Especially those times in Bangkok and Barcelona. |
By Thurman P. Woodfork
Copyright 2003
About
Author...
Thurman P. Woodfork (Woody) spent his
Air Force career as a radar repairman in places as disparate as
Biloxi, Mississippi; Cut Bank, Montana; Tin City, Alaska; Rosas,
Spain and Tay Ninh, Vietnam. In Vietnam, he was assigned to
Detachment 7 of the 619th Tactical Control Squadron, a Forward Air
Command Post located on Trai Trang Sup. Trang Sup was an Army
Special Forces camp situated about fifty miles northwest of Saigon
in Tay Ninh province, close to the Cambodian border.
After Vietnam, Woody remained in the Air Force for nine more years.
Visit
Thurman P. Woodfork's site for more information |
Comment on this essay |
|