My Village
...
by: Patrick
Camunes
(© 1997)
DEROS, San Antonio - December 13, 1967
I was pulled out of Tam Ky and assigned new permanent duty station in San
Antonio. I returned to the World without debriefing of any kind. Of
course, I've still got the commitment of training the new meat assigned at Fort Benning. 
If I was smart, I'd tell them the truth about the "Nam", but
I've got my medals pinned to my chest and can put on a good show for the
trainees. I needn't teach them what scared crapless is, or to
recognize the unmistakably putrid stinch of death, since they will learn
that soon enough.
I
arrive at my old village of San Antonio which undoubtedly has been pacified,
as I've been removed of all my weapons. All I'm left with is my uniform
and medals, which as soon as my fellow villagers see them, they'll realize
what I've been through. I walk through a crowd and I can't believe the
comments and resentment I get from my fellow villagers. What have I done
to deserve this? other than what I thought was my patriotic duty. The
crowd is angry and hostile and I must get away as soon as possible since I
am unarmed. It is not me that I fear may be hurt---my instincts are still
razor sharp and I feel coiled and ready to strike.
I grab a cab and feel uncomfortable with no
wire mesh over the open windows. It would be so easy for anyone to
throw a ... never mind that---I'm home again. As I approach
my old neighborhood, I notice the lack of sand bags and make a mental note
of checking the fields of fire from my hooch. People are here to
greet me outside but I hurry to get inside, under cover, even though the
night has fallen and there shouldn't be any fear of snipers--- I'm home
again.
The villagers are the ones that I have
grown up with, and many family members---why do I feel detached from
them? A feeling of shame comes over me with a quick memory of where I
had just came from, and I avoid any conversation. Besides, I've learned
that getting too close to anyone only means more hurt and heartbreak when
they are taken away.
The years pass as I try to live in my home village of San Antonio, and the
fortifications around my hooch have improved along with the weapons that I
keep exceptionally clean and ready for use. The attitude of my
fellow villagers has changed to the best, and I associate with others that
have been through what I've been through.
We need to talk about our memories, or
quietly we will all meet again when the night falls---and dream the
dreams and walk the walk again ... here in my home village of
San Antonio. [photo: Pat is 2nd Row, 3rd from left]
APVNV
Pat "Beanie" Camunes
D/4/31 196th Lt. Inf. Bde
Tay Ninh Dec.1966-Apr.1967, Tam Ky Apr.-Dec.1967
