Reflections

In March 1960, I reported to Delta Company, 17th Infantry, Seventh Infantry Division, based at Camp Kaiser, a smallish compound of low cinder block buildings and Quonset huts some 60 miles north of Seoul and about 30 miles from the muzzles…

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I stare down at the sink to avoid eye contact. The only sound between us is the lazy drip of water on porcelain. I can’t take the silence, so I look up at her. “When did you become my worst enemy?“ Her cold, blank expression stares back at…

If a picture is worth a thousand words, consider the power of our memories that linger like hazy images until they are resurrected by the smell of burned rubber or bug spray, the nostalgic power of a song, or the sound of helicopters…

It felt like a punch in the stomach. For a few seconds, I was breathless, then overcome by anxiety. Finally, a certain calmness took over.The call came around lunchtime on Feb. 5, 2009, a pleasant, sunny day. I worked as a letter carrier…

I fold my hands over my pregnant belly and shift in search of a comfortable position in an uncomfortable chair. My body feels the stress of the nearly full-term baby, but my brain is blissfully unaware of the full weight of impact the child…

I met Lt. Col. Benjamin Palmer when he took command of my first fleet unit in the summer of 2009. Later that year, I attended a Christmas party at his home, a place filled with family photographs and collages from each of his duty stations…

At a point in time some five or so years ago, I found myself at a party early in my first semester of college. It was supposed to be some introductory thing for the people in our dorm to get to know one another, and to this day I still…

In early 1968 I left school, married, got drafted, and entered the Army. A job as a clerk interested me, but after flunking the typing test during basic training (nice try, but eight words a minute?) I ended up in Infantry Advanced…

One minute.I can breathe. Inhale for four beats, hold for four, exhale for four, hold for four, then repeat. In. Hold. Out. Hold. Our front yard is filled with mourners, all in black. A bead of sweat rolls down the nape of my neck, melting…