Back at you friend.To all the Nam vets out there:
Welcome Home My Brothers!
Today I'll celebrate later by getting fucking drunk. Otherwise I'll just sit and weep.
A few minutes ago I saw a veteran waiting for a cab to take him to a service.
He was wearing his dress uniform. At least ten medals on his chest. Many campaign ribbons. I've met him socially a few times and never knew he was a vet. He had the same reaction when he saw me.
My grandfather fought at Vimy Ridge and Yep where he was blinded by mustard gas. He was seventeen when he was sent home to England. He made string shopping bags to survive. He died when he was thirty.
He fashioned a small brass ring from a cartridge shell on which he had stamped 45FA also the words Vimy and Ypres. He gave it to his new wife of three months in England when he returned.
I inherited this ring.
I wore it with my dog tags. I believe he protected me from harm.