Mercy! Mercy! That Dang Nabed PERCY!

I hate it when you do that.

Today is the 26th of March. It is cold in Wisconsin but not as cold as it has been. It looks like a thaw is coming.

TWO-SIX is my lucky number. In Vietnam I was a Rifle Platoon Leader and the men called me "two-six." The Company Commander explained to me not to be surprised if nobody ever got to know my name. Attrition was high and it was easier to stick with the platoon number and a "Six" leader designation.... hence as second platoon leader I got the designation, "Two-Six." I survived, even though I can't recall any of the men ever knowing my name. I know some of you might be wondering about a name tag on my BDUs. The first set of jungle fatigues I got issued over there, I had all the stuff sewn on but once they got dirty they went into a common heap of dirty clothes that everyone replaced with whatever came out of the base camp in a laundry bundle. We all looked the same, a bunch of OD colored rag-bags.

At one time I could damn near relate all that happened on each day I was over there. Now it all runs together and like a defensive back, I've forgotten most of the mundane stuff and the intense part is all I can dredge up.... It returns to me in not so fond recollections, bad dreams and flashbacks. Sometimes in the car... a moment wafts back over me and I cringe, draw up and mutter an explicative. My sweet and gentle wife jumps in her seat and says..."I hate it when you do that!"