I was only nineteen…

 I was just nineteen…
15,000 days ago, he was a soldier. He learns the soldier’s minute, fight or die? kill or run?
Young man thought he was saving his world, he came home, was called a baby-killer at the airport, returning home.

He tried to hide his ugly face, he shows fake face to his world, rarely showing real face.  No-one wants to listen to a crazed man.

The old man told me; I am alone. I don’t like no-one, and I receive 100% disability from the Army. He told me, I lost my youth to Vietnam, lost dear wife to bad dreams and anger outburst. I lost my buddies in the Asia dirt.

I tried to talk to him, and he looked at me and he whispered to me. Too late to talk about it, too late to thank me for my service. I became what I am. No-one wants to befriend a bastard, left behind and forgotten.

I left him be. I understand his story. My father waited forty years to receive a ribbon for the Korea war. He did appreciate. Today the Vietnam vets are showing their colors, maybe the “Thank you” is too late to have any meaning.

                         Dancing Coyote