War has many faces. My father and I encountered a solitary soldier walking along the side of the road many years ago. I don’t know his name or what became of him, but I will never forget him.
I was around ten or so; call it 1971. The war in Vietnam was raging but I didn’t know a lot about it. I watched the news with Mom and Dad and felt sorry for the soldiers who were killed or wounded. I was insulated from the horror of war in the safety of my small Missouri home by youth and distance, and by loving parents who sought to limit my exposure to it.
In the early afternoon of a hot summer day, my dad and I were driving down Main Street on our way to Flat River to pick up our order at the auto supply shop. Pop had been working on putting an engine in a lady's car. He’d run into a lot of problems with this one, and for one of the few times I can remember, my dad was in a foul mood. He didn’t have a lot to say, and was in a hurry to pick up our order and get back to work.
As we drove, I could see someone walking in the distance. The heat rising off the blacktop shimmered in the sunlight, giving the man an almost ghostly appearance. Minutes later, we passed a soldier walking along the shoulder of the road. He looked tired as he wrestled his duffel bag into a more comfortable position on his shoulder and trudged on. Dad didn’t say a word; he simply pulled over and waited for him to reach our truck. I felt sorry for the man; his face and uniform were streaked with sweat and he looked worn out. I remember thinking how young he looked. Maybe eighteen or nineteen, and that surprised me. I thought soldiers were older than that.
"Where you headed, son?" my father asked.
"Potosi, sir. I’m headed home," the young man wearily replied.
"Hop in, we’ll take you home."
The soldier's face lit up in a bright and happy smile. Thanking my father, he tossed his bags in the bed of the truck and climbed into the cab.
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Article comments
1 - diana hartman
i know better than to read these kinds of stories...i remember when my uncle gary came home from vietnam...my grandmother, who had seemed so sour a woman for so long, lit up like a christmas tree when she saw him...it was one of the most beautiful things i'd ever seen -- until my husband came home from iraq, and i only know that looked beautiful from the pictures the kids took...it felt beautiful, though...
you and your dad -- there's a beauty all its own...
2 - STM
You nailed it again, old boy. Good words mate, straight from the heart as usual. Thanks for brightening up my day and making me think outside the square.
3 - STM
Incidentally, I have frends in Australia who are also Vietnam vets, and who were also treated very badly when they came home. Yes, abused and spat upon, even bashed up in bars.
One was so ashamed of it that he never told anyone outside the circle.
Now he marches with the others on Anzac Day, and with all the old surviving Diggers or their relatives from the other wars, and with his medals - and we saw him on TV last year with his chest stuck out, still marching in time.
He was drafted straight out of school into the Army in a lottery and shipped off to Vietnam without having any say in it. In doing so, he served our country, and us, even if it was in a war that no one liked.
In reality, he has nothing to be ashamed of, unlike those who treated him so poorly.
4 - Ruvy in Jerusalem
Good job, Donnie, really good job. There's nothing wrong with a soldier on the tramp, but there is everythng right with a citizen who recognizes what that soldier has done for his country and pays him in a tangible way.
Your father did good, and you did very good to remember it.
A soldier with a heavy duffle, backpack and gun can always use a ride home. Sometimes, the civilians, too. I see it every day here...
5 - bookishboy
One thing which speaks well of the American public this time around:
They're not confusing their disapproval of an unpopular war with hatred for the soldiers who are ordered to fight it.
There has been a lot of division over the subject of the mess in Iraq, but I'm not seeing countless stories of soldiers who return home and come face-to-face with protesters, get spat on, have rotten fruit thrown at them, just because they got sent into an unpopular war.
6 - Donnie Marler
Thanks for the comments. STM, my uncle and a few of his friends stopped over in Australia during his time in the service. He loves your country but said he couldn't keep up in the pubs. lol.
I'm glad the people aren't confusing the war with the warrior as they did in that era.
Ruvy, always good to hear from you, my friend.
7 - S.T.M
Yes, there were lots of American troops on R and R in Sydney during the Vietnam War and then quite a few sailors used to come over afterwards as the USN docked here. All the ones I met were pretty good fellas ... can't believe your uncle couldn't keep up ... one guy drank me under the table one night and seemed to be still going when I walked past the bar the next day.
8 - Donnie Marler
LOL, that's my Uncle Johnny, he talks a good bout of beer drinking and fisticuffs but comes up short on implementation.
We have a retired fellow in our local VFW who spent a lot of time down under in his career. We stock Fosters, just for him.
I've had a few of those keg size cans myself! Not bad, but I'll stick to Budweiser!! lol
9 - alessandro nicolo
I'm late to this post. Still felt moved to comment. Super. A piece of Americana yet universal.