Warrior to Warrior

Vietnam veteran and author John Harriman returns to Mudville with the seventh installment of his series Warrior to Warrior, letters from a Vietnam veteran to our soldiers in Iraq. See the intro to the series here).

Welcome to The World, Capital W
By John Harriman

Dear Warrior . . .

After you were in Iraq a while-say, 10 minutes-you started thinking about coming home, right?

That's how it is for soldiers. You count the days down and always know the number. You keep time with Xs on your calendars, and one bold, circled, starred and underlined X marks your day of departure.

Vietnam veterans had a name for home: The World, capital T, capital W, our name for the only world that mattered.

The World was an idealized world, to be sure.

Back in The World, we thought, the air is fresher, the sky is clearer, the beer is colder and the women are hotter.

Back in The World, we argued, the food tastes better, the work is safer, the neighbors are friendlier and the dog might have had an itch, but it never had fleas.

Back in The World, we vowed, we would go back to school and spend more time in class and less time in bed. This time we would earn that degree, and this time with a B average.

Back in The World, we promised, we would not cut corners on the job and not call in sick just to get extra days at elk camp . . . okay, well, maybe just one extra day.

Back in The World, we swore to God, we'd go to church every Sunday and be more considerate of our parents and more thoughtful to all of our loved ones.

Then we got back to The World.

There we found that many of our good intentions didn't last any longer than our best efforts. Because we found the world we live in is where we are and what we make of it, whether we're in a foreign country or in the Sweet Grass Hills of Montana. We found that the world--small t, small w--is no more awful nor more beautiful than our ability to make it so. We knew this all along, but in our fascination with getting to that bold, circled, starred, underlined X on the calendar, we simply ignored reality. So we missed a lot of day-to-day living by living only for a day on the calendar.

We found, too, that The World went on without us.

We found that our families loved us and missed us, of course. But Dad didn't stop bird hunting. Mom didn't stop taking her famous muffins to church, Sis got engaged with no regard for us, and, inconsiderate kid that he is, Little Brother didn't stop growing until he got taller than his older, bolder, soldier brother. And, "Oh, dear," said Mom, "Would you mind giving Dusty a bath? He's got fleas again." Not again, Mom. Still.

We found that news people didn't care all THAT much whether we came home unless we came home in a coffin.

We found that our neighbors, if they acknowledged our return at all, didn't really want to talk about our war. And they seemed to get more than a little uncomfortable if we mentioned it. So we kept our mouths shut for decades.

We found that people stared at us because we poured our milk or beer over ice, which was the only way we could cool it down over there. And Mom was shocked at how we drowned so much of our food in catsup, which helped the meals go down in that other world.

On the plus side, our wives were way more beautiful than when we left. The air was fresher, too, the food better, the mountains and prairies and skies every bit as grand as we had dreamt.

One thing we didn't expect, though. We found we missed something from that other world. A thing we didn't appreciate while we were over there. Isn't that always the way?

We found we missed the men around us, our brothers in arms. We missed the bond we had welded in a brotherhood of war. We never felt it until we left, and for some of us, it took decades to appreciate.

You have a chance still to make it a part of your experience. Put a circle around tomorrow instead of an X. For just one day, instead of looking to come home, look to your brothers at war. Write down their names in a journal and in your heart. You may think you want to forget the guy who keeps filling your boots with sand every night. Later, when you return to The World, you will want to remember his name--all their names--for all time. Believe me.

Till next week . . .

God bless you and Godspeed.

____________

John is a veteran of two combat tours in Vietnam and a member of the American Legion. These columns are excerpts from an upcoming book. His current book, Delta Force #1 : Operation Michael's Sword is a fictional account of the 9/11 attacks and the early days of Operation Enduring Freedom.