Without a thought or ounce of will,
for certain not as planned,
the beauty of another thrill
is making its demand.
How can I fall in love again
my heart has run this course?
And who would bet an also-ran,
a gray, uncertain horse?
A dirty trick for hopeless fools
is this October wind
that blows the sails and all the rules
but how can I pretend
the evidence is plain to see,
I fall for you each night--
and when it's dark... ... ... and in between
those periods of light.
Friday, July 7, 2017
The blue in the drab
On April 22, 1969 (my 21st birthday) I started a yearlong assignment at the U.S. Naval Communications station at Cam Ranh Bay, Vietnam.I lived on a small U.S. Navy base built in the sand near a beautiful beach on the central coast of South Vietnam about 240 miles north of Saigon. I spent the year missing my life and my new wife and marking time until the day I could return to "the world".
We were near a very large U.S. Army installation and my Navy friends and I enjoyed wearing our “Blue” Navy Dungaree working uniform in the middle of a zillion Army dudes in “Olive drab” greens. I particularly enjoyed visiting the Army NCO club ("Non commissioned officer club" in Army speak). Looking at our denim bell bottoms and shirts with unfamiliar markings, they would often try to stop us at the door. I guess they didn't believe we were U.S. Military, much less NCO’s, but when they checked our ID's they would, reluctantly, let us in. I was issued greens, as you can see from the photos below, but seldom wore them.
I arrived and left Vietnam (12 months later) with a group of friends who had been, previously, stationed with me aboard the "Essex class" Aircraft Carrier USS Oriskany. A couple of these friends are in the group photo posted below the poem. Over the years we've lost a few of these guys but 47 years later (and counting) I'm still friends/brothers with several of the fine "young men" in the photo.
So......that explains ....the poem...
We were near a very large U.S. Army installation and my Navy friends and I enjoyed wearing our “Blue” Navy Dungaree working uniform in the middle of a zillion Army dudes in “Olive drab” greens. I particularly enjoyed visiting the Army NCO club ("Non commissioned officer club" in Army speak). Looking at our denim bell bottoms and shirts with unfamiliar markings, they would often try to stop us at the door. I guess they didn't believe we were U.S. Military, much less NCO’s, but when they checked our ID's they would, reluctantly, let us in. I was issued greens, as you can see from the photos below, but seldom wore them.
I arrived and left Vietnam (12 months later) with a group of friends who had been, previously, stationed with me aboard the "Essex class" Aircraft Carrier USS Oriskany. A couple of these friends are in the group photo posted below the poem. Over the years we've lost a few of these guys but 47 years later (and counting) I'm still friends/brothers with several of the fine "young men" in the photo.
So......that explains ....the poem...
I wonder who was this shadowy boy
tucked, for a year, on a shelf…
wearing the blue in the midst of the drab,
and sharing the joke with himself?
Going through motions and flubbing his lines,
enduring mysterious rules,
caring for nothing but breathing the air,
he suffered innumerous fools.
Living was something he’d do in his sleep,
safe in his comforting nest,
dreaming the future, ignoring the past,
shunning and doubting the rest.
His singular focus was joining the world,
escaping his prison of sand…
closing the circle and purging his mind...
surviving to leave with the band.
~Dean Neighbors ~
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