Jericho: My Viet Nam

I hate it when I can't tell if I'm over reacting or not.

My brain just put some things together that I'm not happy about. If you can find your way to the comments around here through the barrage of news, you may find some interesting information about my friend, Hud.

A while back, I found out two of my friends, completely independent of each other, both over thirty, decided to join the Army. Jim, well, I haven't talked to him in forever and frankly I'm angry at him - whatever. But, Hud, one of my closest friends, was the other. At the time, he was talking about linguistics training or something like that. All I hear is "DIA" and "Desk Job". Perfect, a thirty year old man takes his intelligence and education off to serve his country and they put him someplace where people will not typically point guns at him and expect him not to duck. Fine. I'm happy he chose to serve. It certainly sounded better than the job he had at UPS.

Next thing I hear, he's going to be an MP, Military Police. Fine, all I hear is "Gate guard for some installation in Germany or Guam". Sure, there's danger, but there's enough bases around the world that my friend won't be in direct danger, right?

So, now, in the comments field below, Hud puts all the bits together for me: Military. Police. One. Hundred. Miles. From. Baghdad.

This is not a desk job. He is not a gate guard. My friend is now a target.

He leaves in less than a week. The last time I saw him was my wedding. The last time I saw him before that was his wedding.

Do you know what a Russian made 7.62 bullet can do to a human body? Do you know what it will do to his wife? How about his two kids?

I know.


Hud, I love you. You have been part of my life for almost half of it. I have always looked up to you. You have always been the man I wanted to be. You have always been my hero. I know this sounds stupid, I know you aren't even there yet. But, you know how those people in books and movies always say "I never had the chance to tell them how I feel." Well, I just told you. There are other stupid things I want to tell you. I want to tell you to not win any medals over there. I want to tell you that incoming fire always has the right of way. I want to tell you that when in doubt, empty the clip. I want to tell you lots of stuff. But, mostly, I already told you what I wanted to tell you.

I never thought my Viet Nam would come after I turned thirty. My Viet Nam was supposed to have been in college, Desert Storm. I know someone who got a Purple Heart in Saudi. He tripped into a fox-hole and broke his tooth while delivering the mail. That was enough for me.

Hud once broke his tooth while playing frisbee. Now, they have given Mr. Coordination a gun! I saw him fall off a bike once while standing still! Now they'll give him a Humvee - I've seen him in his Camaro! You people don't know! The boy can't put one foot in front of the other but behind the wheel he's an animal!

Look, I don't know what any of this means. To think I was worried about you on your wedding day! (Sorry, Linda.) I guess what I'm trying to say is, Hud, please come back in one piece. Okay?