This page is the place where I will share some of my observations on life. Not
terribly exciting to most--but to those few that resonate on the same frequency--perhaps
something to reflect upon.
Philosophy is defined as being the oldest form of systematic, scholarly
inquiry. The name comes from the Greek philosophos, "lover of wisdom." The term,
however, has acquired several related meanings: (1) the study of the truths or principles
underlying all knowledge, being, and reality; (2) a particular system of philosophical
doctrine; (3) the critical evaluation of such fundamental doctrines; (4) the study of the
principles of a particular branch of knowledge; (5) a system of principles for guidance in
practical affairs; and (6) a philosophical spirit or attitude.
I have noticed that, after imbibing a reasonable amount of V.O., I tend to reflect on the
woes of the world in general, and of our society in particular. I wonder at times
how much of this is true concern, and how much is simply a function of gravity, getting
older, and perhaps the mellowing affects of the V.O.?
Folklore has it that "The eyes are the window to the
soul".
Doug's lore has it that "Writing is the window to the
mind".
Thoughts on Viet Nam
I have been thinking about Viet Nam. Thirty years later, I wonder if memory serves me well, or if I just have free floating and often repressed emotions relating to my time in country.
I served as a medic with the 498th med-evac unit, fondly called "dust-off",in 1967. We flew out of Quin Nhon ( I have forgotten how to spell the names properly- please forgive me this reminder of age and gravity taking its toll) and out of Rock Valley.
I was never wounded during my tour-- something that completely defies logic and probability.
I last cried on a small hill located around Duc Pho, after one of our crews went down near Titty Mountain on a routine mission. All of them had served a complete 12-month tour and were due to rotate home within a few days. None of them walked away that day. They all went home in a bag.
I shut down at that time, not wanting to feel and hurt any more. I did a good job, with the effects of that afternoon still with me to this day.
I will not attend a funeral.
I don't feel emotional pain like I believe others do—I seem to have a void in the place where other people have buckets of tears.
"It don't mean nuthin"
means something to me.I have been browsing sites with poems and stories written by my brothers and sisters that were there and by their children--and I can cry for them and for what they write. The intensity of the feelings that I have and the fact that I can cry, amazes me.
I wonder if catharsis is necessary and useful? I wonder if the intensity and the in-your-face reality of Viet Nam is something that I do not wish to be totally free of?
I also wonder if I was maybe damaged emotionally before I went to Nam -as far as some of the emotions that I don't seem tohave today- or if I learned how to survive by repressing those that caused the most pain while I was in-country? As a 19 year old, I did not have the tools to deal with the reality that was Viet Nam. Not sure that I have those skills today.
Any thoughts-- those that have ventured this far?
Enough words for now-- not nearly enough VO imbibed to continue on this track--
DA
© Doug Avery 1996. You can e-mail me at dougavery@earthlink.net.