Vets

I can't say my family has a military tradtion that runs back to the Revolution or even the Civil War...heck, even World War One was passed over by saner elements. My great grandfather, Andrew, was allegedly a deserter from the Austria-Hungarian Army. Good for him! Other reports have him sneaking to America under a lady's skirts on the boat across...I could care less. Once in the States, he settled down with a lady from the Old Country (Slovakia), farmed the land, and raised a family. His son Paul, my grandfather, not only managed his own farm, but worked shifts at Bethlehem Steel during World War Two. Dad as a kid, won a trophy from Campbell's Soup for his prowess with a tractor and the family's success in harvesting tomatoes. (well, maybe it wasn't tomatoes, but that's what I think of when I think of Campbell's Soup.)

Up to this point, there are no veterans in the family, except for Dad's cousin Harold, who was a Marine hero at Okinawa. I wish I could say more about him, but all I know about him is that he was a Marine at Okinawa. I added the hero description myself.

Dad joined the Air Force in the mid-50s as an engine mechanic and later cross-trained into fuel systems for KC-135s and B-52s. I saw him go to and return from Viet Nam in the early 60s as I was almost a toddler and go short-tour to Taiwan and Guam later. Now I realize that Guam meant Vietnam War...all Taiwan meant was typhoon damage to the cool furniture he brought back. Mom's brother was in Air Force electronics in Nam and her half-brother was a machine-gunner who won a Purple Heart.

For some reason, I joined the Air Force while Jimmy Carter was CinC...my brother joined a couple years later. He had inherited all the mechanical talent in the family and worked for eight years in the weather equipment maintenance field. Now he trains folks to maintain lab "clean room" equipment. Not having many civilian-marketable skills, I hung around the USAF for 22 years, long enough to ensure Bill Clinton wouldn't be signing my retirement paperwork. The closest I came to being a real veteran was being on the rotation to deploy to Italy for the Kosovo war (Noble Anvil). Not that my other tours didn't have their share of thrills. I was next door to the Osan Air Base JP-4 fuel tank when it exploded in 1986 and almost died of carbon monoxide poisoning during my first tour there. Other than 9/11, I only wore my "Fear Gear" for exercises; every other crisis involving North Korea (Rangoon bombing, SR-71 SAM shoot, spy submarine washing ashore) was met in the routine of my duties.

I made a jump from being an intel geek to being an airborne electronic warfare geek late in my career. Survival school at a fat, slow 36 years of age was no picnic, but worth it to get to wear a flight suit and train for killing Communists instead of watching them train for killing us. And finally in a mobility position! And temporary duty out the ying-yang! In four years I equalled my career total of TDY days, including trips with the airplane across country (to say "howdy") and to Las Vegas (to pretend to kill people). As a bonus, I made annual pilgrimages to Monterey, California.

Yeah, I had it tough...but the AF brought me back to Korea for one last unforgettable tour, starting with record snowfall my first day in-country and ending wound-up with post-9/11 adrenaline. Then I got out. Could I have more for my country? Maybe, but not much more at the place they wanted to send me. I didn't have it in me. It was easier to come back and cheer on my friends hopping on the "jet" to head into harm's way. Thankfully, they all made it back.

I hope the rest of the guys and gals make it back.