Posted on 10/19/2002 3:53:18 PM PDT by Exton1
In 1989 Bob Greene wrote the book Homecoming. In it he researched the question were you spat upon by anti-war protesters. When you returned? He asks the question to let the American People know if it was a myth or fact.
Any reader of this post wish to relate their stories.?
In my case it was a figurative spit. I had just finished my time at Lowry AFB in Denver, Colorado where I was a shift supervisor in an Emergency Room. As most solders returning to civilian life I went looking for a job. At an employment agency, I told the lady behind the desk about by time in the Air Force, and how I was trusted to run an Emergency Room. She looked at me and said, Well that is nice, but what kind of real work experience do you have? I was totally crushed. Four years in the Air Force and it counted for nothing. Later that week when I told the story to the boyfriend of a girl I had know before I went into the service. His comment was even worse, for he said, Well what do you expect, you were a fool for going. You should have been brave and fought the draft board. Needless to say, I never talked to her or him again.
Exton
Some of the response follow.
Alvin L. Long, Wimberley, Texas
For the record, I was t two-tour Vietnam vet, 1969-1970 and 1972-1973, In April 1970, when I was returning home from Vietnam, a lady spat at me in the airport in San Francisco. She also called me a baby killer, which was probably true.
Do not kid yourself; the peace movement was not just against the government, but also against us fools who served this country loyally.
The American people can go to hell before I or my sons fight another war for them.
M. Tierny, Las Vegas, Nevada
I attend a military reunion in New York in 1968. I was standing in front of the Waldorf waiting for a cay when a young girl walked up to me and spat. She said something and walked away.
The doorman told me that it was not a good idea to wear a uniform in New York.
Robert E. McClelland, Massillon, Ohio.
Yes, I am a Vietnam veteran who was spat upon-literally and figuratively. San Francisco International Airport on October 11, 1971 at 3:15 p.m., and yes , I was sill in uniform. To be exact, it was the same uniform that I wore during the last Fire Support Mission I was involved in, just 36 hours before landing in SF. No, I didnt have mud, dir, or gunpowder on my uniform. A very kind Vietnamese woman at the Transit Company washed and ironed it for me so that I could come home to the country I love, looking nice. This was one hell of a lot more than I received upon arrival.
If I were the only one to be spat upon, the score would be: not spat upon, 1,999.999, spat upon 1. Of course, I know this score to be wrong. Literally because I saw others spat on, and figuratively because to spit on one Vietnam veteran is to spit on them all.
The person who spat on me was wearing a shirt that said Welcome Home Baby Killer. Now I am sure that this person did not represent all people in the US. In fact, I know this, because my wife and family didnt spit on me and call me a baby killer. Of course, why would they. They know me. They know I was only doing what my country asked me to.
I was young, 20, when I went to Vietnam: I was there for a year and came back 21 going on 50. No joke intended here. I was so confused when the girl in the mall asked me if I just came back from Florida because I had such a nice tan. Then she moved a couple of steps away from me and stopped talking when I said, No, back form Vietnam.
Did you see Platoon? Try living what you saw in Platoon for a year. Go from that to McDonalds hamburgers, fast cars, and flush toilets in just 36 hours. Have you ever had a 12-year-old kid ask you, how many people did you get to kill, mister? Try a few scenes like that and see if you feel spat upon.
I am sure by now you thing I am probably one of the Vietnam veterans who sit in a bar all day and cant hold down a job. WRONG. I own an auto repair business and employ six other people.
About that image of a burly Green Beret walking through the airport and being spat upon by a war protester-lets also remember that most war protesters or hippies or whatever name you want to attach to them were also becoming very aware of their rights as US citizens, and they knew that if this burly Green Beret did nothing they (protesters) had won, and if the burly Green Beret retaliated, they (protesters) still won. How could they lose?
For fifteen years I put Vietnam behind me by working 12 hours a day and telling myself that it couldnt get to me because I wouldnt let it. Then the tough guy started to fall apart. My wonderful wife of sixteen years couldnt do anything right, and I was about to lose her and my three children.
After some of my friends (Vietnam veterans) told me that it wasnt her that had change, it was me, I went to three doctors to find out what was happening to me. I ended up at a Veterans Clinic talking to psychiatrist, who told me this was very typical posttraumatic stress and depression from Vietnam. My wife (very understanding and supportive) and I are working on putting things back together while I am trying to learn to deal with my problems. Yes, my problems-not yours, or the US governments, or that hippies, or the war protesters, or the girl at the malls, or my employees or my customers, or my childrens. For Gods sake and by His Grace, never my childrens, yours, or anyones.
The book tells of hundreds of stories like this. I pray that it is not repeated in this war.
If I saw a anti-war idiot spit on a returning GI now ... jail or no jail that clown would lose some teeth
If you get a change to visit the VN War memorial, The Wall, please go. It is so moving. I found the names of two boys who died in VN, boys I grew up with. I did pencil rubbings of their names. Ricky James and Larry Henshaw of Sapulpa Okla. HS class of 1968. Beautiful wonderful promising young men, gone, but never forgotten. Thank you Ricky and Larry for your sacrifice. Shame on all peace protestors everywhere.
This is off topic but something I wrote about the V.A.
MY DOCTORS APPOINTMENT-
All of this is true-
Got into the VA hospital for a routine exam, but as the day turned out, it was anything but routine.
Decided that the first order of business was a cup of coffee and a donut. Went down to this little alcove where they give away coffee for donations. There was this little old lady, about 80, pouring coffee into the pot. A guy in a wheel chair asked for one of her donuts. She laid into him, calling him a poor imitation of a man, telling him to wait this turn, etc. He said excuuuuuuse MEEEE, with sarcasm. Then she let into him, me, 3 other guys, and another lady. She said we never get any tips for all the coffee we make, the napkins we give away, the cups, or anything. Unfortunately, I started laughing, and she noticed it. Then it was my turn. She turned her wrath on me. I listened until she ran down (about a min or two). When she paused to take a breath, I quietly asked her what she was like when she had a bad day? That brought down the onlookers, everybody just roared. Smoke started coming out of her ears. She said that she wasnt going to volunteer any more Mondays. And she tottered off down the hall.
My appointment came. The nurse called me into the room, gave me one of those paper dresses they call a gown, and told me to strip to my skivvies. I did. Got on the examination table, laid down and waited. Guess what, a lady doctor walks in, introduces her self as Dr. XXX, from the Middle East. Im not going to say anything, but thoughts did go thru my mind.
Dr. XXX starts typing on the computer, with her back to me. I noticed that the exam table had stirrups on the end, so I stuck my heels into them. She turned around, saw what I had done, and said I dont think that is necessary. It went down hill from there.
She listened to my heart, heard a murmur (I have had it all my life) and asked me what the source of the murmur was? I was at a loss for words, couldnt remember the correct word, so I said Genital?. She said, in her accent you mean congenital?. After I quit giggling, I said yes.
As she was pulling on the rubber gloves and coating them with KY jelly, she said jump off the table, and pull down your underwear. Not wanting to get ahead of her, I waited for the dreaded words bend over. She said them, and I did. She said spread your cheeks, soooo, I reached up and pulled the cheeks on my face apart. Bad mistake, this lady didnt have a sense of humor at all. After I started obeying her commands, I found out why she used the KY jelly all over the glove. It is a good thing she wasnt wearing a watch.
She said, pull up your underwear. I did, she then said get up on the table, I started to, when she said wait I want to see..... She only got that far, when I pulled down the underwear, knowing she was going to check out other parts. She finished her sentence ..... your feet and legs. Then she giggled. There is one thing a man doesnt want to have happen. Stand in front of your female Doctor, naked, and have her giggle.
This Doctor had no tact. Her next question to me was if I wanted a prescription for Viagra? I couldnt have been more embarrassed, so I said sure, bring it on. She asked me how many I needed in a month, I said 15. She looked at me sternly and said now, realistically, how many do you need in a year? I said realistically, give me 3 for the year, I can throw away the 2 left over.
Exam was over, so I went down the hall to the coffee pot. The volunteer wasnt there, so I got a cup of coffee, went to the phone, to set up my next appointment. Damn, the volunteer was there, by the phones. She told me in no uncertain terms that I wasnt allowed in that part of the hospital with coffee or food. I innocently asked her why she had coffee on her cart then. She told me that it wasnt any of my business, but she was delivering coffee to the nurses. I asked her for a refill, but she refused.
Went out to the courtyard for a cigarette. Doc XXX was there, being served coffee by the volunteer. Dr. XXX asked me why I didnt tell her I smoked. I said after 20 years in the Army, I dont volunteer anything; besides, I like to smoke. She said when you are sucking oxygen off a little roll around cart; Ill have a bumper sticker printed up that says I LIKE TO SMOKE. She put me on a no smoking program, right then and there.
God bless those who were injured and perished; God bless those who retain the nightmares of war; and God bless those who will experience it in the future.
No not at all, but these people haven't gone away, they grew up and became Clinton/Gore supporters.
They're still here, and mostly unapologetic.(sp?)
That's right, and they're still spitting...
Oh, by the way, the first Marine casualties in Desert Storm served in 1/9.
We could not get on the planes. Students on standby had no difficulty.
I came back from Nam in January, 1969, through Seattle. I flew military standby with not trouble, visiting everyone I knew on the way home. Military standby was supposed to have the lowest priority, but I was never bumped. Made every flight I stood for. Of course I mostly flew the red-eye, late night flights.
You should be ashamed ..... very very ashamed !
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