Soldier's Story

Quietly...he sips aged Brandy and begins to clip a cigar tip. I watch as he inhaled the past once again and exhaled memories, with a puff characters came alive like phantoms unfurling. Ebony eyes pondering passersby with a distant gaze. Follow him down memory lane, if you're brave. Sips Brandy akin to skin, deep mahogany, strong spirit, and aged of life's fermentation. Seen days without air when America inhaled war and exhaled gun-smoke...a story told again and again and ever sobering. "To God be the glory, I'm still here", he simply says. Today, I sat still listening to my father reflect upon his days in "Nam" amid the countless prayers said in Saigon six ways from Sunday. These moments and the lessons therein never ceases to amaze. My eyes have never witnessed fallen friends join the ranks among fields of poppy, nor the pain of coming home to an ungrateful nation. No job Joes. War heroes drifting train stations by day and sleeping in shadow by night. It wasn't right. No amount of words can amend. Only a soldier can comprehend. Yet, with sincere thanks America gives tribute. I ‪‎salute to the end our veterans and troops, as we uphold stories of strong spirit, aged of life's fermentation to be told this day again and again...ever sobering.‪