Davey and Eddie
Davey Johnson and Eddie Williams. Two of the best in one of the best units;
Eagle Dustoff. Both were crew chiefs. Our hooch consisted of them, their
respective medics (who I haven't remember yet, just faces but those are
clear) and myself.
Eddie was the typical all american kid; blond, blue eyes, had that look that
mothers loved and fathers hated. Easy with a smile and showed no fear.
We had all our plans set for when we got out. Each was going to go home for
a couple weeks to see the folks. Then I was going to his home town where he
had a friend that sold motorcycles cheap. After that we were off to see
america via the old route 66. You know the plan, work small jobs, party
every night, break all the young ladies hearts.
Eddie was a good crew chief, treated that huey like a man in love with his
machine. His last pilot drove him a little crazy because he liked to bush
hop, but Eddie had faith in that machine and his own skills. And Eddie liked
to show me things. He showed me how to cinch your strap so when you stood on
the skids you could get just the right angle to lean out and be able to see
what the rescue hoist was doing. He showed me the budda in the valley for
the first time.
Eddie never seemed to let things get him too much, but I know that was
just surface. If things had gone bad, a rescue had turned out futile; he got
that glazy look that many had; but with Eddie there was always that smile
and laughing words.
On that last night, Eddie and I sat listening to his music talking our plans
just three months off. Eddie, fuck you and route 66.
Davey Johnson was a big man. Had that walk that many big men have; you know,
that kind of stiff legged walk where his whole body seemed to swivel from
side to side. The only thing bigger than his body was his heart. Davey knew
that my family never wrote and his family was one of those really close knit
ones. First, he got his mother writing to me and sending ME my very own care
packages. Then his sister starts writing me and then all her girl friends at
the university. Mail got to be a good time.
Davey liked to wrestle, I guess cause he was so big and could. I remember
the one day he started to wrestle with me. I didn't really want to but Davey
never did hear too well when he wanted to do something. After a few minutes
of pain, I decided enough. I got Davey up on my shoulders and then dropped
him. Never piss off a bear. Davey picked me up, tossed me through the ammo
box shelves and stomped off. Guess he didn't like the airplane ride.
After Eddie's death, Davey cut up the tail rotor chain from Eddie's ship and
made each of us a non-removeable bracelet. I know that may sound a little
dis-respectful, but believe me it wasn't. The chain had been a part of
Eddie's ship, and that machine had been a part of Eddie.
About a year ago, I decided to try and find Davey; the time was right.
Someone told me that if I contacted the army for a roster of my unit, got
Davey's SSN, that I might be able to trace him. I did, and I did. Fate had
decided that Davey should join Eddie and the two medics ( guys forgive me,
I do remember you). Fuck all of you and your mothers too.
When next we meet, don't laugh at how old my body got, my memories are still
young. Now my soul? That has gotten older than God, himself.
Guys, look down and meet some new friends of mine. There's gene'o and C4, h,
mo and druid, doghandler and carol, mike, trixie, monte, brazilla, habu,
demaj, saint, snake, art, parson, ken and some others. They knew you guys,
you knew them. Fuck ya all and pass that bottle.
As morning broke, without a sound
Our boys lay dead upon the ground
The mist, a shroud, to lay across
Lonesome souls whose lives were lost
Ten thousand miles away from home
A pity, they should die alone
No mother's tear, no father's grasp
To comfort as they breathed their last
But now they're gone, forget their names
For with them pass our nation's shame.
Words of Wisdom
"Words of Wisdom"
Words of wisdom, give to me,
communal thoughts of what should be.
The kind that cause me to beware
of feelings that I shouldn't share.
For if they're strange, don't fit the mold,
it's best these thoughts I do not hold.
For none will look on such as me
as having vision which to see.
This seer gift was given to
the special ones, the chosen few.
And, none have spoke a single word,
at least not one that I have heard,
to indicate within my mind
are thoughts worthwhile from which to find,
a place on earth to call my own
so, here I sit, sit all alone.
Sit and wait for words from you.
I'm sure you'll tell me what to do.
Words of Wisdom, give to me
provoking thoughts to set me free.