So this one is kind of random - or at least I have to admit that it looks that way. In truth, it's something I've been meaning to do for years. Tropical Storm Debbie is coming through my neck of the woods today and my work is closed - so I thought I'd use this time to post what I have so far...hopefully I will come back and add to this as the opportunity presents itself.
When I was finding my way, after my time in the army, one of the things I felt necessary to do was to torch my past. I burned everything. My baby blanket, my old family photos, my projects from the past - everything.
...But it all started out with my Army stuff. Plaques, medals, awards, photos - all of it. If it was environmentally unconscionable to burn, I gave it away - but I got rid of everything...I felt I needed to live my life in a way that didn't require artifacts to prove I had been where I had been; I needed to live in the here and now, and let the past be over with.
Years later, I wouldn't go so far as to say that I regret what I did, but there is definitely a slight element of something along those lines. I have kids now, and they ask about my old music and other things from my past, and all I can do is tell them what I once would have been able to show them - but I did what I did in order to heal/find myself, so ultimately I still believe it was necessary to get me to where I am today.
Since that time, once in a while someone from the Troop will reach out and share an old photo. I always think "I need to save that somewhere," but then I never do. So last night I sat down and went through my messages, my google drive, my files and photos, and dug up what I could. There are many pictures I remember having that are now gone, possibly forever, but I wanted to put together an old Army photo album post, so that if/when pictures surface in the future, I have a known place to put them.
One of the guys shared this awesome bit of troop history a few years ago, and I thought this would be a good place to start.
I joined H Troop by way of chance. I didn't join as a cavalry scout, I joined the army as a mechanic and was sent to 4-1 Field Artillery. They hated me there from day one, I honestly don't know why - but when the Cavalry Scouts needed their own mechanics attached to their small Brigade Reconnaissance Troop, 4-1FA was happy to take the opportunity to get rid of me, and I was grateful to find myself amongst the most elite soldiers to be found on top of the hill at Ft. Riley. They took me in and raised me as one of their own. They trained me in the fine arts of combat and brought me along to help out on regular combat missions - a fact I will take to my grave with great pride, regardless of how I feel about the US Government or its motivations for sending us over there in the first place.
This picture (above) is worth a lot to me. The guy with the ghost eyes, raising the glass, that was Amondo Pittman. He was a wild cat, man. He was one of my closest friends. One time he tried to confide in me, regarding a girl back home who had stopped responding to his letters. I was rude to him at the time, I told him no one cares about girls back home, we're here now and it would be best to forget her - and in any case I said, I don't want to hear about her whether you decide to move on or not.
You know what Lucky?
(That was what they called me in those days. Bess had given me the name because he said my tattoo was easier to read than my last name)
You're a fuckin' fair weather Goddamn ASSHOLE.
He chided. I stopped and thought for a moment, realizing he had come to me with his pain, looking for a friend to console him. I was the one he felt he could come to, and I had been a dick about it.
Ok, ok, I'm sorry man, you know I care about you and I hate to see you going through this...so tell me, what was the last thing she said to you?
He went on and told me all about it, and I was proud to be there to support a good man, and a most unexpected friend. I love this man, he was a true friend. He was in many ways a tormented soul, his heart was too big for this little world.
Pittman died while I was going to school for art, a year or two after I got out. I will always carry the guilt of not having been there for him right away when he needed me, but I am grateful to him for helping me learn to recognize when it's time to put yourself aside and care for others.
...love you Mondo.
The other thing that makes this picture worth so much to me, is 1SG Yuraska. I think this is the only photo I've seen of him. Maybe one or two others over the years, but I've lost them. I've never admired someome the way I admired this man; he was a patriot and a hero - and basically a father to all of us.
One time he asked to borrow my Willie Nelson box set, and I swear, it made me so happy to finally be able to give something back to this beast of a man, who had done so much to prepare and protect us. There's a special place on Fiddler's Green, waiting for this cavalry hero.
This is Abraham, in what I believe (from the uniform) would have been a later picture. We just called him AB. He had his moments as a kind of goofball. He was in charge of getting us to take the malaria pills, but none of us did. He insisted on the importance, as he was directed to do, but wound up being the only one to get malaria.
AB was the first person to teach me about astral projection. He told me all about his exploits in the astral realm, visiting a crystal castle and accessing akashic records. He once said
You know why I'm always in such a good mood Lucky?
Because you're a goofball? I thought
It's because while you all waste your down nights sleeping, I get the hell out of here and go home! I'm seeing my friends and all the people I have always visited in the astral realm.
I never doubted him. Once I asked him if he could check in on my girlfriend for me.
I could, but things are different in the astral. I can't guarantee that she wouldn't find my astral form irresistible, and then I would almost certainly fuck her.
馃ぃ馃ぃ馃ぃ
Many of us were practically kids still when we headed over for that first tour. We had learned as much as we could through the years of training; the rest would come from real world experience. We didn't choose each other...we learned one another's strengths and weaknesses, and we banded together to form something that was greater than the sum of all its parts. We made up for each other's weaknesses and they in turn lent their strengths when needed. When the mission called for it, we were hard and strong - but behind all the stuff you see in movies, even the deadliest combat soldiers are just men, they're just people - in the nights, when the skies were mostly quiet, we were there for each other, listening to stories of home, thoughts about what we missed the most, our fears, struggles, losses and pain. We didn't have mothers, sisters, girlfriends or wives to nurture our hearts and souls, so in the same theatre that hardened us and taught us to speed towards the things that make everyone else run away, we also learned how to care for and nurture those around us.
I miss those days, I miss those guys. I am grateful for the life I lead now, grateful for my wife and children - but there will forever be a part of my heart and soul that has been carved out and assigned to the brave men of H Troop 1st Cavalry Regiment - the men who depended on me, the men I depended on.
Thanks for checking out some more of my work! As always, I hope you enjoyed witnessing as much as I enjoyed creating!
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