A Soldier's Thoughts Bring Me Understanding

Show and Tell Friday



The Thoughts of a Soldier

Before I share all of this, I guess I should explain that the people who owned this house, prior to our purchasing it, were originally from Texas.

While sifting through items left in a building in our back yard, we came upon this old scrapbook.

It is filled from front to back with Texas newspaper clippings and greeting cards, with more to spare running loosely among the pages.

There are a few clippings of famous artists the folks use to enjoy such as Minny Pearl, Roy Acuff, Roy Rogers, Red Foley and more. We read through the clippings with news of appearances in Texas of the famous stars. I felt like I had just taken a stroll down memory lane because many of these were the entertainers we'd watch on Hee Haw and the Grand Ol' Opry when I was growing up.

There is also a very large amount of clippings pertaining to President Roosevelt.



Also included is news of the war and families effected by their loved ones being away from home serving their country.






Then there is also some coverage of the funeral of President Roosevelt.




I came to this one clipping that caught my eye because the woman in the picture was quite lovely with a look of concern in her eye. Then I noticed the picture of the soldier and the headline.


Mind you all, this is one time I will speak of my oldest son, a rare thing for me to do. For those who wonder why I don't speak of him often, it is out of respect for James. He is a private person. He doesn't want me to talk about him much so I don't without his permission.

My oldest son, James graduated from public school with a bright future in mind. He has an extremely high IQ, for whatever that's worth in the world today and could have had scholarships. He has been thinking about joining the Air Force. He has met with a recruiter and of course things do look appealing to him.

When I saw the pictures and the headline, my first instinct told me I better fold up this piece of paper and pretend I didn't see it. I felt like I shouldn't read it. But of course, being human, I did.


Now that I have read it, I see what the soldier sees, at least a piece of it anyway. I have a better understanding of their commitment to their country, their buddies in combat, their families at home and now I know they do feel the same fear and grief their families are feeling. This letter was an insight I needed in understanding everything about what it really means if my son walks out the door to join up.

By the way, my other son Curtis, plans to join the Navy in 2 years. . . . .

I thought I'd share it with anyone who may have an interest.

WARNING: The following letter contains racial slurs, references to violence, death and adult language.



A Letter Home

(From Somewhere In Korea)

Dear Mom,

I'm sorry I haven't written in the past few days. It isn't that we don't have time.
I received a pretty hard jolt yesterday-a very good buddy of mine was killed by a mortar. He's the third one this week. The other two, although in my squad, were not as close to me as Pee-Wee.
It's been pretty rough the past week, an infantryman's nightmare. They don't come out and give us a target, they sit back and lob those ****ed mortars at us and all we can do is sit and take it.
Our positions are proof against anything but a direct hit from the larger mortars and artillery.
Pee-Wee and the others were careless, they got outside the protection of their bunkers. Graham and Chang, our Korean, were killed not 10 feet from where I was working inside my bunker.
* * *
BELIEVE ME, not a man among us has showed an eyelash above the trench in daylight since.
I was given an interesting job today. Lieutenant Peterman says I am the best shot in the platoon, so he gave me a sniper's rifle with a telescopic sight, and told me to kill the Chinese mortar observer.
He has to show his head to direct the mortars, so I had a clear shot. I'm pretty certain I hit one and maybe two. The first shot was fired at a man with a white cover on his helmet; when the head came back up, it had a dark green cover. Apparently it was another observer.
Somehow, after seeing Graham, Pee-Wee and Chang, the thought that I might have killed a man doesn't bother me. Do you think it should?
* * *
I STILL DISLIKE the thought of taking a life, yet when that cross-hair is centered on the Chink's binoculars, there's no hesitation in my trigger finger.
Does that make me a killer? God, I hope not.
You know, as brutal and horrible as this is, I wouldn't trade the education I'm receiving for a hundred college diplomas.
I'm seeing man, the Man and man, the Animal. I've seen the human soul laid open. I watched a 260-pound ex-weight lifter who could easily break my back in his two hands, break down and bawl like an infant when we got Graham's body out of the ditch.
* * *
I'VE SEEN BRAVERY and I've seen cowardice.
When Graham got it, the only three who would go out after him were the medic, my squad leader, and me. I carried him (Graham). Chang, killed by the same blast, needed two men; one to hold him up, and one to hold him together. He stood only three feet from the shell.
Sights like that are bitter pills to swallow. I've aged 10 years in the last five days.
If man in his ignorance can't iron out his troubles peaceably, can't straighten out problems without violence, then may God save him from himself. He's his own worst enemy.
* * *
WELL, ENOUGH of that. It may be that I shouldn't have told you these things, yet I thought you'd want to know just what was going on. I only wish the whole world could be told.
Well, it's time for me to go back to my post. I have to spend the entire day sniping at Chinese. In a way I enjoy making them duck.
So long for now. Write soon. I'll write as often as I can. And don't worry, I have every intention of coming home.
Love,
David

Below the mother's photo it says,
"Message to mom- Mrs. W. S. Spice, a dental hygienist, of 3900 Carolyn Rd., learns about war and broken bodies and death-in a letter written by her son, Pfc. David Herring, 18, former Poly High student and night switchboard operator at The Press. She didn't even know he was in combat.