Less than a decade after the Vietnam War I met a man who was delivering my mail. In the ensuing years we became fast friends. In those years he often would deliver the mail in the blisteringly hot July afternoons while on foot. He enjoyed being outside and the heat was just a consequence of doing his work.
On one such occasion he stopped to talk. I offered him water which he gladly took in. The conversation got around to what his experience was in the Army. We had spent time together and talked some about his experience but on this day he went into great detail.
At first he confessed that he had never told anyone this story. It was too painful a memory. He had to get this load off his chest.
He began by talking about how as an infantryman in the Army in Vietnam it was quite a grueling slog. It was punishing and it drained you. His company was often called upon to traverse the jungles, find the enemy, and engage them. It was not uncommon for them to “party it up” a bit at night at the end of one of those kind of days.
It was on one of these occasions that something terrible and life-altering occurred. As he awoke in the morning he discovered that every other member of his team had been slain during the night in their sleep. Their heads were cut off and placed on their chest. As he looked down the row of his fellow soldiers he could see a severed head on every other body.
Certainly that was an emotionally and physically traumatic experience. What troubled him most was the fact that how did he get chosen to live. This is one of the most profound emotional issues with veterans. The question is why did I survive? The answers are seldom forthcoming.
As it happened on this hot July day under the shade of the big tree in front of the house, he told the story for the first time. He nearly collapsed as he told the story and came to the realization that once again he did not know why he was spared and that he had just confessed for the first time to the pain and the suffering he had been carrying around.
Through the tears and embraces we consoled each other. What was irreconcilable was why was he chosen to live. It was never resolved at that time. What would take place years later would finally give him solace.
As with many men and women they work hard to take care of their families, to do their job well, and to make life be purposeful. This veteran performed in that manner in a stellar way. He was very good with his family. They often traveled and met together at various homesteads throughout the state. On this one occasion near Casa Grande Arizona, his question would be answered.
The family gathered together and barbecued at one of the homesteads. It was a trailer on a lot in the open desert. It was nothing fancy. They lit up the grill and cooked hot dogs and hamburgers… maybe some steaks. Everyone ate well. Lots of potluck was brought along. It was a wonderful day and as evening descended upon them they retired to their beds and their cars and the grill was placed next to the trailer. There was no wind and the charcoals were nearly out.
In the night screams awoke the veteran. The winds had come up and the grass was caught afire. The flames had begun to consume the trailer. All of the children were in the trailer. Nieces, nephews, sons, and daughters were all about to be consumed by the flames. He threw the door open and ran to the back of the trailer. He broke out a small window and began to hand the children out one at a time. The flames were burning his flesh. He was in anguish but he was determined to get those children out. The other parents gathered those kids up as quickly as they could and got them away from the trailer. By then the flames had the entire rest of the trailer involved. The window was too small for him to get out. It was obvious he was not going to make it. It was at that point that he stood up and looked out the window and waved goodbye. He had saved all the children.
It was not until some time later I heard of his demise. It was then that I remembered the confession under the shade tree in the front yard. I knew that now he would be at peace.
If you believe in the soul and the spirit and the value of life it’s difficult for anyone to go into war and to come back whole. It is our responsibility to take care of those individuals. The government and the politicians cannot do it.
I would hope that on that day under the shade tree I had given some solace to a heroic veteran. I am sure that now he is in a good place.
June 9, 2017
Bernard Lambert