“Thank the Living Christ”
They hadn’t told me that I was going to make it yet, when my brother came by to visit on his way home. We’d been hit only two weeks apart. The telegram came to me about his injuries, dropped in by a supply chopper late in the day on a place called Ganoi Island in Vietnam. I was a Marine Corps second lieutenant company commander because all the other officers in the outfit had been lost to a friendly fragmentation grenade. I’d been lucky in being added to the unit the day after that unfortunate event took place.
I was hit by machine gun fire later that night, after getting the telegram, and evacuated to Da Nang early the next morning. My torso had been ‘stitched’ across the center but I’d lived. I was condition critical and prognosis ‘poor.’ My wife told me that information by letter the day my brother came to Yokosuka to visit. He’d been released from an Army hospital in Yokohama and was on his way back to the states. He was very happy to have made it. A booby trap had blown up his armored personnel carrier and the gasoline from the tank on the thing had burned his face. Mike had always had scars from adolescent pimple infections. The scars were gone. His face was now smooth and his other features unaffected.
We celebrated the ‘good news’ combat can bring, and the ‘funny’ news. The funny news was that both of us only found out in the hospital that we didn’t have to be in combat together. All one of us would have had to do was opt out because of the Sullivan Act, keeping brothers from having to serve together in combat. We hadn’t known about the act and nobody told us until after. The ‘good news’ was that my scars would be hidden under shirts or coats. His scars made him look better. We both got Purple Hearts and a bunch of other medals and we were going home. There was plenty of good news. “Thank the living Christ,” was the expression Mike loved to repeat every time he talked about going home, which was just about all the time down in the underground and draped ICU room we spent our visiting time inside.
“Why that?” I asked him, over a chess game he was letting me win because I was loaded on Demerol.
“Why what,” he asked, sacrificing yet another major piece, which I gleefully grabbed and set shakily on the board next to his other lost pieces.
“The Christ thing?” I asked. We’d both come up Catholic, having attended all Catholic elementary schools, but both had agreed long ago that we weren’t really religious at all. In fact, only a day earlier I’d mentioned how relieved I’d been after being shot and laying in the mud, knowing I probably wouldn’t make it, that I didn’t believe in God so I didn’t have to worry about going to hell.
“Just an expression,” Mike replied, uncomfortably. So uncomfortably that I had to pursue the subject further.
“You didn’t?” I asked, stopping my play on the chess board in trepidation.
“What?” Mike replied. “Find religion? Because of what happened to me over there?”
“Yeah,” I said, already knowing and fearing the truth.
“Maybe a bit,” Mike went on. “Why not? I mean, if He got me through. All the other guys died. What about you? How many of your men lived?”
“You know,” I replied, very softly. I’d lost everybody the night I was hit. Eleven of us left and nine of the other ten were shot in the head.
“Well, He got us out when nobody else made it. Both of us. I’m flying home. Thank the living Christ,” Mike whispered.
I said nothing, making another brilliant move on the chess board instead.
Mike flew home the next day. The same day the doctors told me I’d live and be shipped home in the next few days myself.
Mike made it home, or at least back to the states. His Army plane crashed on arrival when he got there though and there were no survivors. I never saw his body but they gave me his completely crushed college ring and a quarter bent in half that had been in his pocket at the time. I was able to get out of bed and fly to Arlington for the burial. He’s there today in a small grave way off the beaten path. There’s a half bottle of Bacardi rum buried under the sod just to the right of his marker as you read it. I got drunk there the one time I visited many years ago.
We both drank Bacardi Light. I always promised to go back and finish the bottle but then quit drinking along the way. Maybe, like visiting the Vietnam War Memorial, maybe one time is enough though.
I joined the CIA and eventually got a “Q” clearance. High enough to get hold of my brother’s crash report, which had been classified due to supposed secret documents being aboard. When I finally was able to read the report I was astounded. There were no secret documents. The crash was classified because neither pilot of the aircraft had been checked out to fly that particular aircraft before and both had two missed approaches in their flight jackets. Back in those days a missed approach, one in which a pilot has to go around and try to land safely again, was seen as some sort of negative thing.
In a rainstorm, in a plane neither man had flown before and with two missed approaches recorded in their jackets, the pilot and co-pilot elected, upon discovering that they were too far down the runway to safely stop, elected to try the brakes and reversers anyway. Everyone died. I found out the ‘good news’ too. Because of that crash the military stopped putting missed approach information into pilot flight jackets. Pilots were, and are today, encouraged to make as many approaches as they feel necessary to get on the ground safely.
The final upshot of my Army Officer war hero brother, buried in Arlington cemetery story, is the listing on Google about his death, and the same listing about everyone else on board, including pilot, co-pilot and every passenger: “Booby Trap Connected Intentionally Self Inflicted.” The record is not changeable. The U.S. Army, the U.S. Government and the bureau that handles such information will not change any record like that, much less that one.
I wonder to this day about what Mike would have to say about that final insult. Would he have seen it as good news or funny news? I am willing to bet that he would not murmur: “Thank the living Christ” if he was alive.
Dear Uncle Jim (I count it a great honor to have your permission to address you as such),
I was so sorry to read about the loss of your brother. You have my deepest condolences even at this late date from your loss, and my utmost respect for the life you have lived and service you have given.
Religion is a human construct and I won’t touch that. However the Gospel of Christ is the cornerstone to Christian faith. Scripture says if you believe in your heart that Christ was the Son of God and that he died for all of the sins of the world and rose from the dead the third day and confess with your mouth that you accept His free gift of salvation that you will be saved and receive eternal life. It’s really that simple. I believe your brother got it, I pray that you will be able to accept Him as your Saviour.
As for all the suffering in this world and bad things happening to good people; that can make us angry at God, it comes down to free will and sin. For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God, and the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life. Unfortunately the “free will” of others can still have consequences on us. If all of this was to get your attention, my prayer is that you respond and accept Him and His gift and that He richly blesses you beyond measure.
Keep writing, you have stolen many sleep hours from me these past few weeks and drained my emotional well more than once. A price so small to pay for the vicarious experiences that are priceless. Forgive my naïveté as this response is submitted with all humility and heart felt respect.
V/r. Dennis M. Pustinger (a sinner saved by grace.)
What can I write in response to an emotional and brilliantly laid out treatise about life itself. I am, like you, that kind of Christian, but it is hard for me.
I judge God himself and there’s no allowance for that in His work. I am working on that.
I cannot thank you enough for taking me into your intimate family.
Semper fi,
Jim
I am simply stunned by your brothers death . I am at a loss for words.
Thank you for your expression, Andrew.
What can be said? What can be added? I am truly sorry for the loss of your Brother and can’t begin to fathom the seemingly unfathomable twists and turns of life. I will say I believe with my whole being there are purposes that transcend our short stint here on this earth. That life began long before we came here and continues long after we leave. This I know you will see your Brother again and it will be a joyful event. This life is but a mere instant in an eternal journey and Christ is the center of it..
How can life be so cruel. To have your brother ALMOST make it home. I can only offer my sincere condolences……….
Thank you for your comment, Bob.
Semper fi
Jim
Jim, Prayers for continued comfort & strength continued to be sent. Best regards, Doug
Your regards are appreciated more than you know. Thank you. I continue on,
and the odyssey continues. Strange that, in my life, I’ve been around so many famous people
without ever becoming one. Gift of God, I think, not to be one!
Semper fi,
Jim
Is that crash report still classified?
No, but no longer available. Have a thick copy though.
Semper fi,
Jim
I went to a Jesuit University in Milwaukee. I had a Catholic friend who gave me this reason for believing in God. ‘If I don’t believe in God and die, and there is a God, then I am in big trouble – if I don’t believe in God and die, and there is no God, then it doesn’t matter. It’s safer to believe in God.’
And there is the best roll out of rational thought about the subject…
Semper fi,
Jim
I know you don’t need or want platitudes at this point Jim, but that is so sad but ironic too. As to the Army’s position on the crash, I think your brother would probably find it funny. Thanks for sharing
thanks for caring, my friend…
Semper fi,
Jim
DAMN, my mind won’t let me put anything else in my comment ; damn don’t mean nothin ; sorry man about your Brother! Man this rattled my head ; damn
Thanks Bill, and the word ‘damn’ seems to fit a lot of the story!
Appreciate your compliment in writing about it…
Semper fi,
Jim
James, I am always astounded as I learn more about your story my empathy is little to express the life situations and grief you have gone through. As I study daily the way of Christ, all I can say is even unto death, Christ is the answer. He allows all the free will to believe or not to believe. I count it a joy to live or die in Christ, knowing the outcome, either way, is eternal fellowship with Father God, His Son Christ and the Holy Spirit. With Christ, all things are possible if it is His will. He even gives us the power to have a taste of will. Whether good or bad, our consequences are determined by choices or the absence of making choices. We are to glorify God in all we do, for the credit is all His. He was so merciful in forgiving us of our sin nature, He gracefully gave us His own begotten Son as our advocate for all sins past, present and future. You are a true patriot, scholar, linguist and friend. Be blessed, the choice is yours.
Your friend the chocolate cracker,
Wheatley
Wheatley. Sergeant Major. How are you? It is so good to read your words of wisdom and all of your friends here in lake Geneva talk about you and miss you pretty deeply.
I hope your travels and life stream will head you back in our direction one day soon. These are not the type of stories we shared but then the sharing of such combat stuff
is risky, at best, even in the presence of someone as terrific as you are. God Bless, my friend,
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim…after following your story since day 1, I knew that you were eventually hit but I was clueless about your brother until now…so sorry for your loss and the way it happened…just SOP Army stuff…not surprising the way it was handled…not much back then made any sense…you have stirred many hearts and memories for many of us…I was never exposed to anything like your story and I am thankful that I wasn’t…but keep telling your story, keep cracking that door open to let that flicker of the light of the truth come in…so that those that are sitting in the dark, that don’t know, will know the truth, so those that don’t understand why we vets are the way we are might understand just a little, and why most vets never talk of the experience…forge ahead marine…you are still a leader…and we are the followers…
Thank you Mark. I still had open wounds when that call came in while I was living in San Clement. It was my Dad calling.
I rememvber the counter, the old black wire phone, the red vynal stools. I simply said “yes” when he told me, turned and walked out the front
door. I walked the mile to San Clement Beach. I went out to the end of the San Clement Pier and sat with my feel dangling over until my friends and
wife found me hours later. I dont know how I accommodated the loss so soon after getting home. It was like all the rest was a prep for that horrid single
event. I went to the funeral at Arlington. The rest you know. Thanks for the comment. The way it is written. The meaning.
Semper fi, my brother,
Jim
Shit sucks, and often people SUCK, and THIS $%$@#^&@ HORRIBLY sucky reality that has happened to you sir and your brother I will add to the far too many unfair F#%^@@#@^#$ experiences list I carry in my innermost being…. You sir, should see what its like to KNOW this living CHRIST personally for who he is (as your brother clearly stated, the LIVING CHRIST) and have to bear the knowledge of all this shit and not hear a word when I ask for answers to certain unbearable experiences. Often I think it would be a whole lot easier when the shit is hitting the fan, to NOT KNOW HIM!!!! Then I can bitch about it, get good n fn drunk off my ass and do it again the next day and the next day, and the next day…. Yet In the midst of all this unacceptable suffering, His grace and embrace far exceed the meds of this place.
Freakinn AAA sir, that you purposed to get to that crash report!!!!! Proves the horrid reality of the present kingdoms of this earth.
From a veteran of a different kind of combat. peace… James Sheridan
James, your email address has judah guitars in it. Is that what you are doing now? Those are some kind of guitars on The Facebook page.
Thanks for the usual comment from you. Rough and elegant at the same time. And Christian for real on top of it, like sweet frosting.
Thanks for being what you are where and when you are…it gives me a good feeling to know you are out there.
One day I’ll be able to afford a Judah Guitar if I sell enough books!!!
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
As of this very moment sir, I can say, one day I’ll be able to afford a James Strauss book if I sell one of these guitars!! Hee Hee… I have not sold any yet, still in the development stages. Having done high end residential const. most of my life, I acquired some handy skill at woodworking and played guitar since a kid so, starting from scratch, turned the page to a new chapter. Crazy and a bit scary yet, never too young to start to learn and never too old to stop learning!! And, getting a bit old to be running across roof rafters which I love dearly. The name Judah, means praise. The words Jew and Judaism come from this name, the fourth son of Jacob and Leah. My intention is to make weapons of war, as in the war David waged (as he praised) on the tormenting demons over king Saul in 1st. Samuel 16:23… And praise is a secret weapon, I often forget to use, lifting hands and all that gawky, big n clunky kinda stuff that is somewhat of a high maintenance thing to drag around AND can get a bit noisy. BUT very effective in the hands of someone who knows how to use it. Kinda…. like… an…. Ontos…. peace….
James, what you are about is so cool! A real life’s work and with your inventive mind and able hands.
I love it. Makes me want to start building guitars in my garage! Not that I will. Please keep me posted on here as to how its going.
You don’t need to afford my books. I will send them to any vet that doesn’t have the money for free…and that’s why I put every chapter or part of whatever I write on
this website for free…and you don’t have to pay to belong.
You go brother!
Semper fi,
Jim
I was the only son in my family just me and my Sister. I asked if my Co. if I could get out of Combat zone . Because I was the only son in my Family. He told me No that they don’t have anyone replace me with. I don’t know what I could do or go to for help after that. I did all my time and made it back to the Home. Keep doing what you do James Thanks James
Catch 22. Heller wrote it with deep inside eknowledge. Nobody wants to take anyone in a combat zone out of it. They say they do, just like they say that they admire you
for being there. Nobody wants you out of the zone because then someone has to replace you…and the guys in the rear have all figured out what’s really going on out
in the shit. Better you stay there. When you get back nobody, mostly men, do not admire you for that service. They say they do. But you went where very few have gone before
and lived…and that out other men don’t want to hear or believe…because they feel inadequate. Coming from combat it is hard to have friends who have not been in combat,
unless you make sure nobody knows about your service at all. I lived a long time that way.
Semper fi, and I am so happy you are here with us.
Jim
I new at some point in your book that you would be hit, but I didn’t know you had a brother that was there at the same time. I am so sorry that this happened to him and for you and you’re family. War has only the living to get out the massage of what really happened to the brave men and women who died there. You are doing just that. I had a young brother that passed away a few weeks ago and it so hard to say goodbye but I know where he is in God House and I shell see him again. Semper Fi
Tragic and ironic – reality trumps fiction and fiction at its best pales next to tragic truths expressed in the poetry of first hand pain and suffering and loss. I’m at a loss to say any more. You give me much to contemplate.
Thanks for the depth of your comment Mike. Really appreciated reading it…
Sempe fi,
Jim
I’ve grown nearly 50 years since I started reading “30 days” and now this short part of your life……. and yet…… it only stands to confirm what I knew so many years ago. How can I ever thank you for putting so much life into print. Thank You for your stories of life and your thoughts, God Bless…..
I’m so sorry for the loss of your brother, Lt Strauss. What an irony, he was almost home. I buried my sister recently and she was only 53. You just can’t prepare yourself for the loss of a sibling or child. It sucks the bag. I take comfort in knowing she’s with the Lord and all who have gone before us. I’m sure your brother is at His table as well….saving you a seat when your time comes. God bless.
I’m happier for having read your reflection, James. In light of what you’ve shared I feel closer to those of my family who’ve helped to keep my eye on the prize. On this day, and at the behest of my late brother who passed the knife to me, and to my father who took a bayonet through his forearm, received a purple heart, and then left it to me, we’re brothers. What makes us so isn’t that we both gave up a piece of our soul to the Catholic faith. Only that it gave us perspective on religion, which has little to do with faith. It’s not that we both can use words to convey the image of where we’ve stood even as we stab blindly into darkness to capture a mood. What makes us brothers James is our successful struggle throughout our life to recognize the veterans of this world. For a mother’s love James, we choose test the very thing she’d raise us to respect.
My glass is empty because my next toast is for the living, not the dead. The only remembrance I’m going to honor, which makes it appear that I need to drink,is for the love that guides us both to raise our glass to “will”. Love, for the will to survive, the will to keep looking for purple leaves on plum trees fluttering in the breeze. Brothers James, for knowing that our will should never be given up for something unknown, unless it is our own will, to go there!
The knife was passed to you my brother, and it’s your story now!
I was never there, and I almost feel like I’m not even qualified to submit a comment. But I have to tell you how absolutely riveting your story has been, and to thank you for reliving what you experienced, for us. Especially now that we have eliminated the draft and have an all-volunteer force, it so important that we all understand something of the meaning and the horror of war – that we don’t feel so insulated from the reality of it that we just shrug when our leaders are on the verge of lighting another fuse somewhere. Also, I have to say that I value the comments you get, and your responses to them, as much as I do your story. Thank you.
Mike, of course you are ‘qualified’ to write on here. Anyone who cares is qualified.
In fact, we don’t even dump comments that are not so nice, although there really have not been many of them.
Thanks for liking the story and even writing on here. There is an insulation of the public and that is a good thing
in many ways, for the public, but it entails an even greater charge against the vets who come back and have to live
a life of make believe or have no life at all.
Your care, as you describe here, is appreciated by us all!
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, Dammit! You have this old man cry..again! Nothing else to say! Semper Fi from an old AF warrior!
I told anyone who asked that I was the luckiest man who ever wore the uniform: volunteered for the draft (blew a 4-year scholarship in 1 semester), jump school (1-up my older Jarhead brother in our lifelong pissing match), requested infantry (more of that “mine are bigger’n yours”) & was sent to DINFOS to learn to be an Army journalist; an MOS guys took a 4 year enlistment to get. Go figure. Volunteered for VN (the sibling rivalry gone stupid) & got sent to IV Corp PIO. Rest of the story: took number of trips to the Mud on operations to write stories about the Amercan adivisors trying to get the ARVNs to make soldiers…escorting some media types to a fight …got shot at by Mister Charles, his artillery & our short rounds…13 days to DEROS & came as close to dead as anytime when TET happens. And I’m discharged on Valentines Day 1968. And wonder over my good fortune for the next 30 or so years, until I found my dog tags one evening after I’d donated a pint to the Red Cross. My blood was typed by the Army as A Negative, but the Red Cross says A Positive. I called them the next morning, told them about the error. They called me that afternoon: it’s not the first time dog tags were wrong. Needless to say, had I needed blood in the Nam, it would’ve been a problem and possibly fatal. I never got the Purple Heart and I have no doubt it was no matter of luck. Fact is, my Momma prayed both of her boys through the War: she asked & pled, God heard & agreed. One other thing: I spent enough time in the Mekong Delta, humping a ruck, eating mud, drinking thick water, having the dog-shit dickens scared out of me to thank God himself that I didn’t have that every day. Nobody suffers like a Grunt suffers. Nobody.
Wow, now that’s a compact and neat description of a tour man! It don’t mean nuthin!
Yes, the guys in the field humping the shit, eating that shit and living that shit had a tough go of it.
It was strangely grand while it was frighteningly horrid. Hard to put those two things together but there it was.
thanks for the comment and for the reading.
Semper fi,
Jim
Neil we must’ve had our dog tags switched. Mine read A positive and my blood is A negative. I flew as a DUSTOFF medic 70-71. Good thing that I wasn’t wounded and needed blood.
Clear Left 🇺🇸🇺🇸🚁🚁
Fortunately my dog tags showed my AB+ type. The universal receptor, so I would not
have been killed by the reception of the wrong type. Still, Dr. Ahtai presumed back in that
time that huge unnatural gallstones were the result of a bad transfusion. He was taciturn
however so I never found out the basis for his conclusion.
Semper fi,
Jim
I’m sorry.
Interesting two words Harvey. I don’t know you but from those two words, and after some thought
I’m going to guess that you were in Vietnam, in the shit and it was the Marine Corps.
I understand the depth of those two words and I share your
thoughts, condition and some of these nights since.
Con Dios, my friend,
Semper fi,
Jim
I’m one of three veteran brothers, all from the 65-73 time period, all Navy. The older bro was in country on PBR’s, younger bro was West Pac/VN, I was 6th fleet/Med. Youngest bro, we’re all 65+ now, called older and told him about We are all addicted to your book! You have a unique ability to put the reader on the ground, in the style of the late Peter Capstick. Keep writing, we’ll keep reading! 30 Days was exciting, sad and many other adjectives at the same time! Any more planned?
Yes Benny. The second book I am writing just now is called The Second Ten Days
and it will be followed by The Third Ten Days. After that I intend to write about what happened
after and all the weirdness of that.
Coming home, but not, getting care, but not, and having no money, no job, evicted, repossessed
and with a tiny child and a woman who would not quit. And a chest full of worthless medals nobody wanted to see.
That story may find a few interested vets too.
Thanks for you guys sharing the story like that.
Makes me smile. Glad I’m making some kind of strange lemonade out of that fucking lemon
of a place and time…
Semper fi,
Jim
Thanks for sharing such deep and moving thoughts. I remember helping you and Mike memorize the Latin altar boy responses! He is with the rest of the Ecker clan now. Always wondered what really happened. Keep writing! Your style is riveting!
Thank you Pam. It’s been an age. But there you were, just as described.
I am glad you are enjoying the story. I don’t think it would have fallen on
interested ears if much of that clan was left. They just didn’t get it
and there was no sense trying to talk to them. But then, regular citizens
have no clue about what really happens when they send kids off to war
and they kinda don’t want to know when some of them come back. You are
different, but then you alway were cousin. Thanks for coming on here
and writing, and being my cousin, of course.
Semper fi,
Jim
James, I was in a fire department for 13 years and I saw a lot of people die. Some of them should never have died, like the man on the first floor of an apartment building where the fire was started by a man smoking in bed on the second floor who lived. And some of them should never have lived but did, like the arrogant Private who took a ladder to the second floor and yelled “You have to fight a fire from the inside.” when the deputy Chief told him not to go inside. The building collapsed right at the arrogant Private’s toes. Everything in front of him went down, everything from his toes back to the wall stayed. God is the one who decides what day you die and nothing you do can change that. I once found the body of what I thought was an old man. It turned out to be a 22 year old Marine just 3 months back from Viet Nam. He lived through a combat zone and died in one of the most peaceful places on earth.
Thanks Tom for that lengthy descriptive comment. The philosophy and belief
system holds pretty true but when you are deep into the shit you develop a feeling
that you are terribly responsible too, not just God. I think, when I was there,
I was more disturbed about the way in which God took people more than they being taken
at all. And, of course, I had something to do with that too, and that part is not easy to lay down.
Semper fi,
Jim
Lt, you keep moving me and walking with you, sir! So much has been said by others that is SO on target! It’s THERE for me as well. ALL of it! So deep and strong…. STRONG. Soul deep. Much love and respect. Left stuff for you to see when you get there. Trust it may help.Hope so! Vaya Con Dios!
Con Dios. It is what we used to say, later in the tour. With God.
Thank you for that, Someone.
I am working away to get it all down and the first book out there on Amazon
It’s damned hard to get stuff up on there with some kind of cover and edited
properly and all. Thanks for injecting your spirit into me…
Semper fi,
Jim
As a combat veteran, the insight you impart in your writing and comments still astounds me! I agree with Chuck Bartok. Keep putting the real stories out your books! Try to keep extra facebook posts/comments going for as long as you have time. So many veterans and families deserve to hear the truth. I fear once you are a “famous” author you won’t have the time to interact like this.
Well Marty, thank you for the thoughts laid out in print here.
Should I become a famous author I will still be here because there’s no place
I’d rather be. Have great importance placed upon my writing by a vast unknowing public
out there is of little interest to me in how I get through the rest of my life.
I would much rather associate and enjoy the camaraderie of the guys and gals I meet here.
I’m staying in the corner of my small coffee shop and enjoying being
what I have managed to become. It’s most kind that you think I’ll be famous.
Semper fi,
Jim
Sorry about your brother. Glad he found Christ before his demise. Terrible the way government covers things up. You can rest easy that your brother suffers no more. But you will always have an empty spot where he once was. What I felt was so bad about the accident is that you had to live another survivor guilt story. I hope you have recovered from his & your comrades deaths. I have seen a lot of people die & as a nurse I found we don’t get to pick & choose who lives. Remember only God has that power. We don’t understand but must accept that His will is better than our wants.
Thank you Cathy, that is really a feeling and kind comment to make on here.
Losing my brother was devastating in the middle of a hugely devastating time of
recovery for me. I don’t think you ever ‘recover’ so much as accommodate.
Thanks for the neat comment and caring.
Semper fi,
Jim
What a touching and powerful story as always, Mr.Strauss. I’m so sorry about the loss of your brother.
Thank you Diana. It was a powerful time, tied in with a lot of on the spot powerlessness
to boot. Thanks for coming on here and saying something and thanks for the support.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, Sorry for your loss of your brother, it is tuff to lose a sibling. Am looking forward to your publishing of your book, you are a amazing man & Marine ! I would be proud to have served with you! Semper Fi !
Thanks for the kind words Pete! There are a lot of guys on here, and a few gals too, that
I would much loved to have served with. But what you get is like where you get in that kind of
situation. It’s the luck of the draw. Thanks for the comment and also for the unabashed support…
Semper fi,
Jim
Apparently what you get for good and faithful service is a lie in some obscure, never to be seen by the public report that makes others look better? Sorry for your loss. Not as unexpected as yours, but I lost my brother years ago and can feel your loss. “Down In The Valley” has been ordered and waiting anxiously. Work hard, publish a lot, I need the education.
Walt, the reward for performance is always a reward delivered from and through perspective.
What’s the reward for a lot of education and life experience? You get to be lonely because what
you learned out there is mostly not believable to people who have not gone and don’t want to go.
The reward for doing what you think is the right thing is seldom the opinion of what someone else,
with their own survival and comfort in mind, may experience and apply. Thanks for liking the work.
The edited version of Down in the Valley won’t be available for another week so forgive me. I used that
manuscript to figure out how to use Amazon to publish. I am getting better…in my opinion and through my
own perspective….
Semper fi,
Jim
I know I have heard the story and am glad to see it written.
How many other Occurrences are swept under the table such as that plane crash
Did not like the results but fantastic article… thanks, again.
Richard. Thank you. The intent was to get you to reflect and think about it,
not sway you one way or the other about anything.
Most of us have established beliefs by the time we reach adulthood
and those foundations don’t change much,
but we can influence them by thinking about things.
Appreciate the candor and the reading.
Jim
I appreciate your story about Christ. I also feel the hurt of losing a brother. I was released from active duty on January 5, 1971. I was in the Marine Corps for three years. I spent 12 months and 12 days in Vietnam. I met Jesus Christ on February 15, 1983 and have lived a good solid life since then. The alcohol, drugs, and other bad habits are gone. I’m glad your brother met Christ before his death. He is rejoicing in Heaven as we speak. Your writings are very much appreciated.
I think other website proprietors should take this site as an model, very clean and magnificent user genial style and design, let alone the content. You are an expert in this topic!
Thank you for the reading and the comment!
Semper fi,
Jim
Sorry to hear about your brother James. We had a saying in the Air Cav that became NY mantra F**k it don’t mean nothing. I got shot down three times the last the worst a Sam. But it was most I ever felt alive in my life.
A friend of mine, back in the day, said that his combat experience
was like standing in a giant bowl where he was at the bottom and ten
symphonies were playing….so I get what you mean Dan. It kind of takes
one to know one in this kind of thing. I wrote, not expecting anybody
except guys like you to understand at all…
and thank you for that.
Ooooorah!
Jim
I am so sorry for The Loss of Your Brother… However, I do not believe that His Death was Self Inflicted…. My Uncle Colonel Donald George LePard, was Killed in Veit Nam………and They Said “Killed by Friendly Fire”………while riding in a Helicopter… He was an Amazing Pilot and had told us Many Times, “Never Fly in a Helicopter, they Fly like a Rock”……I do not believe The Government…….and, It is getting worse all of the time. Blessings James….Glad You Made It….. Thank The Living Christ.
Jesus, you are a pithy writer! I hope you’re hard at work on a novel. I’m a lover of great writers (Uris, Clancy, Michener) and I believe you are absolutely one of them. Don’t waste all that fantastic talent on Facebook, James. Write that novel while you still can. A and many more.
Thank you Beth….
My confidant and Internet guide, Chuck Bartok says the same….
But Facebook has introduced me to a larger base.
Did you see we also have a sign up for Update Notifications her on the site?