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All My Bright Tomorrows
April 8, 2011
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I lie there looking up into the sweaty face of the
medic leaning over me. I'm surprised how much he
looks like my father. But that can't be; I never
noticed the resemblance before. Besides, he's only
twenty-seven, and I'm twenty.
I remember a
particular picture of my father, bare-chested,
wearing shower clogs and jungle fatigue pants,
taking a short break from his own war. Except that
Dad was smiling then, he looked very much like this
weary, concerned friend gazing down at me now with
so much pain in his eyes.
“Doc?” I must not
have spoken as loudly as I thought, because he leans
closer, as if to hear me better. “What is it,
Buddy,” he asks gently, smiling now. The smile
doesn't quite reach his eyes; the pain and concern
remain there. “Am I going to make it?”
“Sure,” he says reassuringly. “You got my personal
guarantee.” I close my eyes momentarily, and he
says, “Stay awake, Partner; the chopper is almost
here.” I know he's telling the truth about the
chopper because I can hear it in the near distance,
the sound of its rotor growing steadily louder. I
sigh, and he speaks again, still gently reassuring,
“Don't worry, you're gonna make it; everything's
gonna be fine.”
“I know,” I say, as the
medevac chopper sets down close by. It's suddenly
important that I try to make him feel better; it's
probably because of the pain in his eyes. He's
dry-eyed; the tears must be running down inside him.
I look up into those eyes once again, and then down
at the bloody bandages covering my torso and hiding
the mangled mess that's what's left of my left hand
and lower left arm. I wonder if a one-armed jazz
pianist can make it to the big time. |
 By
Thurman P. Woodfork
Copyright 2007
Author's Note:
Dedicated to Bruce “Doc” Melson
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.
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Thurman P. Woodfork's site for more information |
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