Ninety-nine percent of the world’s lovers are not with their first choice.
That’s what makes the jukebox play.
–Willie Nelson
Thanks to all of you for your concern about some events that happened recently. I will try to explain as best I can. The story is as old as life itself but is heartbreaking as it happens. Some have had similar experiences, I’m sure.
A long, long time ago, in 1967, a Not So Young Soldier went off to war, believing in the cause as it was explained at the time by our leaders. He was a married officer with two young kids and a troubled marriage. He was assigned to a unit on a mountaintop, the highest one in Viet Nam, Nui Lang Bian. The mountain, in the Central Highlands, had a temperate climate but tropical seasons. Dry and dusty, followed by torrential rains and knee deep mud.
As an ambitious and experienced trooper he set out to do the best job he could and after a few months was reassigned to one of the safest and prettiest towns in VN named DaLat. DaLat had a French flavor, with expensive villas owned by the upper military echelons as well as the political cadre, hence the security was as good as it could be in a war zone. The Not So Young Soldier was assigned to a villa for living quarters along with other junior officers. He worked on a small compound a few miles away. His position was such that he had his own vehicle, an M151A1 (a jeep), as did most of the other officers. All of the people living in the villa worked in different sections, in different units, occasionally with each other but went to work at different times.
There was a little store near the front gate of Chi Lang Compound, where the Soldier worked. There were four young Vietnamese girls in their traditional ao dais (VN dresses)that worked there and the Soldier would shop there often, to tease the girls as they were learning English. One girl spoke good English, the others not so much but always tried. Another of the girls was very pretty with a smile and would always help the Soldier with his shopping. They all got off work at the same time and walked about a block to catch a jitney that would take them into town. One day the Soldier offered them a ride to the jitney and they all got in the jeep. Soon this became sort of a routine.
1968
One day the Pretty Girl was walking alone, either late leaving work or perhaps waiting for a ride. The Soldier, being a gentleman, offered her a ride home and as it turned out she lived not far from his villa.
This became a routine, the Pretty Girl was from a middle class family that had fled North Viet Nam in 1954, when VN divided (and the conflict escalated). Her father was a high school math teacher and she had 8 siblings, 3 sisters and 5 brothers. She would always get out of the jeep a half block from her house so her family wouldn’t see her.
The friendship developed, the two different people laughed and talked and were becoming serious friends. Somehow, driving a 4 on the floor jeep and their hands touched and so began a ritual when they were alone.
The Not So Young Soldier went on R&R to Australia and found himself thinking of the Pretty Girl and bought her a wool sweater and a kangaroo hide handbag. She was delighted with the gifts. When the Soldier mentioned he had taken several rolls of 35 mm slides she wanted to see them and invited him to her family’s home for the first time. Her parents were conspicuously missing from the living room but two younger brothers came in and introduced themselves. They looked at the pictures with one of those little viewers. She made tea and it was a pleasant evening for the Soldier.
The rides home from work developed into morning rides to work as well, with the hand holding, the laughs and the teasing. The other girls at the store would laugh when the Soldier would show up and they would tease their friend in English.
Then the inevitable came, the Soldier had to leave and return to the US. They had talked about it for days and weeks with much sadness. The parting was sorrowful, the Pretty Girl cried, the Soldier had a lot of dust in his eyes. The Soldier stopped in the US just long enough to gather his family and a passport and leave for Spain. The Soldier and Pretty Girl wrote many letters and exchanged many photos for almost three years. Then a big surprise! She wrote that she and a brother were getting passports and coming to Madrid, he to go to school and she was looking forward to the future.
Now the Soldier had to tell the truth, to confess, that while never lying he had never told the Pretty Girl the whole truth. He wrote her a very long letter but it was necessary so she could go on with her life. The deep sorrow and guilt he felt was depressing but deserved. A few weeks later he received an unexpected letter in return, chastising him for his gross treatment of a young and vulnerable girl. The Soldier was deeply remorseful and vowed to never repeat the lies, even by omission.
Just a few weeks later the Soldier got orders to return to Viet Nam. His marriage had continued to deteriorate but he loved his children and wanted to protect them. He found an apartment for his wife and kids near her parents, thinking they might provide some oversight while he was gone.
The Soldier’s assignment in Viet Nam would be as an adviser and he hoped to get assigned back to DaLat, to apologize to the Pretty Girl for the harm he had caused. Instead he was assigned to a team in the Delta, not far geographically, perhaps less than a 100 miles but enough to preclude any visits. He returned to the US to find his wife in deep schizophrenia, unable to cope with life. After several hospitalizations it was apparent that she would never stabilize and divorce was necessary, for the Soldier’s sake and the health of his young children.
Two years later he was divorced and now involved with a Vietnamese girl he’d met at the Defense Language Institute, where she’d been an instructor. As the war in Viet Nam was winding down fewer instructors were needed and the Lovely Lady lost her job. She enrolled at a college near Fort Hood where the Soldier was stationed and two years later, in 1974 the Lovely Lady and the Soldier were married. The war continued to de-escalate and in 1975 was suddenly over and the Communists came to power.
The Soldier was greatly saddened, not knowing what had happened to the Pretty Girl, was she alive? What happened to her family? It had been five years since they had said Goodbye, with heavy hearts and anguish.
Then some good news from another direction. The Lovely Lady’s family had all escaped and had arrived in CA as boat people. We soon had a family of 14 living with our family of 4. Hectic times, in retrospect, happy times watching 7 new kids adjust to our 2. The Lovely Lady had been gone from Viet Nam over 10 years and now was reunited with her Mom and sisters and brother and families. The joy we all shared can not be over-emphasized. Time passed quickly and soon the new people were restarting their lives and moving on to their own destinies. In a couple years we were back to our original 4.
Some of the new families stayed near by and all was good. A year later the Not So Young Soldier became an Old Retired Soldier and moved on to a new chapter in life. The Love Lady graduated and began a career search.
As the years passed the Retired Soldier always was wondering what had happened to the Pretty Girl. He kept her pictures in his brief case and would look at them a few times a year. He tried to remember on August 3rd, her birthday, to look at the pictures and savor the memories. He just could not forget her. She had a common Vietnamese name and as he traveled around the US for work he would check the local phone books, looking to see if she might be listed. There were a number of positive hits but no way to know if she was the right one and he finally gave up.
The years passed by, since that day in 1970 when the Soldier had written his last letter to the Pretty Girl. Ten, twenty, thirty years. He and the Lovely Lady had retired to the woods of Minnesota, young enough to still enjoy life and fortunate to be comfortable in their travels. One day, it happened to be Aug 3rd, 2000, the Soldier was watching TV when he saw an ad “PeopleSearch, find anyone in the US” was their claim. Was this an omen? He puzzled over the thought, maybe he would get a negative report but at least that would sort of answer some questions.
After a few days he called the number, answered the questions but they needed an SS number or a date of birth to start the search. The Soldier had never forgotten. They asked “When and where did you last see this person?” He lied and said, “25 years ago in California” since he knew that many Asians stopped off and stayed there. They said they would give him a written answer in three weeks. Three weeks came and went, four weeks and the Soldier called back to complain. They checked the file and told him he’d have an answer in a few days but wouldn’t tell him what it was. He asked if he would be happy with the results?. They assured him he would be.
The letter finally came, the Soldier was excited, shaking, opened the envelope to find that the Pretty Girl was alive! She was in Texas! And an address and a cautionary note about contacting a newly located person. He was ecstatic, He couldn’t believe it! He had found her! He was high-fiving himself, over and over. Then of course, what to do with the new information? Would she remember him? Would she still hate him? What to do? Finally he decided to write a letter, explaining that he was married to a VN Lovely Lady and retired. He sent the Pretty Girl a couple “safe” pictures, one of him catching a very small fish and one working at honey harvest. He also sent a picture of her from the days before. He didn’t know what to expect, if anything, but even nothing would answer a question.
About a week later he got an answer back. Again the excitement. He sat in the car at the post office, an adrenalin high. The letter started out, “I’m so happy to get your letter after 30 years” and she told him she was married to a Vietnamese man and had a grown daughter. Now she was asking the questions and then asked him to come visit her at work and gave him her work phone number and business card. There was joy in Podunkville after 30 years!
The Now Retired Soldier parsed every word, making sure he understood exactly what was written. Finally he got up enough nerve and made the call. It was received well and he continued to annoy the Pretty Girl at work, she finally said to call her at home at a prearranged time and gave him her home phone number. The calls were long and happy. There was 30 years of catching up to do and the calls were frequent. She explained all that had happened to her and her family after the Communists had taken control. There was some sadness but she and 7 of her 8 siblings had gotten out with 6 in the US (5 in the Houston area), 1 in San Jose, the brother that had gone earlier to Spain was a successful business man in Belgium and a brother in eastern Canada. Her sister that had stayed in VN had 9 children of her own and didn’t want to leave and died about 15 years ago.
Late November 2000
The Old Soldier and the Pretty Girl were so happy, to revisit the memories, now thirty years old. Of course they wanted to see each other. The Soldier and Lovely Lady always went on vacation to Texas in the winter, to visit many friends and family. So they went, the Soldier and Lovely Lady had different friends to visit. He was able to meet with his friends that the Lovely Lady didn’t like while she visited her friends.
The Soldier and Pretty Girl were able to meet in a mall, for the first time in thirty years. Both were very, very nervous, as they were walking towards each other. The Soldier recognized the Pretty Girl from a distance. She, on the other hand, walked past the Old Soldier and didn’t recognize him. Finally, the awkwardness was overcome, they shook hands like newly introduced people. She had told her sisters in advance and they wanted to meet the stranger. As they drove over to visit her first sister she took off her glove and laid her left hand on the console. The Soldier picked up her hand and thirty years disappeared. The first sister was a widow whose husband had died in a re-education camp. She had heard a lot about this stranger and was happy to meet him, though her English was lacking. They went to the second sister’s home, her husband survived the five year re-educational program. The husband had been a Lt Colonel in the VN army and spoke good English and interpreted for his wife. They too had a lot of questions for the Old Soldier and the Pretty Girl. The day was spent together, the Soldier and the Pretty Girl laughing and remembering, it was wonderful, being young again..The Pretty Girl took the next day off from work to spend a whole day with her Soldier.
It was a repeat of the previous day but this time together at a mall, with catching up on thirty years of family news and the joy of being reunited and together again. As the afternoon rolled around and it was time to say goodbye again they both knew that their lives would be changed. The next twenty years sped by, almost daily phone calls, birthdays remembered, occasional happy reunions from time to time but always knowing they both had spouses and those vows would never be broken. They laughed and teased on the phone, enjoying each other’s lives and consoling each other with their daily woes. The days together were so happy, so wonderful, like being teenagers again.
There were discussions of the future but it was a dream. The years crept by but with a bonding dream.
September, 2022.
Then on January 9th came a late evening phone call. The Soldier recognized the voice of the Pretty Girl’s niece, she was crying and very difficult to understand. Something, something “funeral will be Friday at (sob,sob) ‘something’ at 9AM at something, (address)”
Oh my god, was she telling the Old Soldier the worst possible news? No, no, no, it couldn’t be, no,no, that’s impossible! A sleepless night, tearful. The following morning, the Soldier located the funeral home at the address he’d understood and got an affirmation. His Love of fifty-five years had had a heart attack and passed away. No history, no explanation and had died in bed. Then more information from the niece’s husband trickled in via message. It was the worst day in a Fourscore’s life.
I am grateful for the extension of condolences and sympathy extended by the Glib Family. I have gotten through the shock portion. I have the memories of more than fifty years. The Pretty Girl can never be forgotten and I should be happy having known her for so long but it’s hard to understand why she was taken from her family and from me.
I was eleven years older. I expected to go first. We had discussed our mortality and she was always sure that she would be the one to pass away before me. I am so glad to have met her, to know her, to find her, so sad to lose her.
“We laughed together, now I grieve alone”
That’s a beautiful story, Fourscore. Thanks so much for sharing.
+1
As the late Queen Elizabeth II said after the death of her husband, “Grief is the price we pay for love.”
Thank you for opening up and sharing, Fourscore.
That’s quite the touching tale. My condolences.
Wow. Amazing story, and so well told. I’m sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing with us.
Getting old seems to involve attending way too many funerals.
Eventually we run out of friends and just start looking to see which church it’s at, sandwiches or hot dish?
Last one I went to was at a Lutheran church. Can you guess the entree?
My dad is the youngest of six. They’ve all since passed, except for him. Not long ago he told me “Well, I’m the only one left.” Of course I knew that, but hearing him say it was like a gut punch.
Same for my dad, youngest of 5. They all developed Alzheimer’s (except the one “lucky” enough to die of emphysema due to heavy smoking), so he saw his own future manifest in the slow inexorable decline of each sibling.
He told me and my brother to off him if he got to that point. Well of course we didn’t, but Covid came along and carried him off quietly while he was still able to enjoy aspects of life in the VA memory care home with fellow VN war vets. As good an outcome as could be expected; glad he never suffered through the non-verbal, scared phase of Alzheimer’s,
+ 1 I’ve been to more than a few in the past year or so.
Thanks for sharing Fourscore and my condolences.
As they drove over to visit her first sister she took off her glove and laid her left hand on the console. The Soldier picked up her hand and thirty years disappeared.
Beautiful.
Thanks for sharing.
Sad it didn’t work out how you had hoped in the first place, but it sounds like you both had good lives.
My condolences for your loss.
great story
That is a touching tale.
My condolences.
Another Vietnam love story.
The Vietnam aspect of the story made me think of the Nordsteam talk this morning.
Seymour Hersh who wrote the Nordsteam article, broke the My Lai Massacre story in 1969. In all that time despite the people in charge desperately wanting it, has one of his stories ever been debunked?
Scanning Wiki – he spun furiously regarding the assassination of Osama bin Laden.
Der Spiegel finally mentioned it, but it’s below-the-fold and tagged with “being used by Russian propagandists.”
Fairly predictable.
Die Welt is giving it some coverage.
I like this disclaimer:
Of course, they don’t mention that the former leaders of the OPCW agree with him on that issue.
I’m re-reading Hersh’s account of the Bin Laden raid. it sounds a lot more likely and credible than the nice, sanitary version of events the Obama administration fed us to include the parts about how female analysts played the decisive role in finding him.
It was just Pakistani greed and corruption that allowed the whole thing to take place and the Seal team really wasn’t doing anything all that great.
Bild will probably be all over it, unless they’ve been skinsuited since the last time I read it, oh a few decades ago.
Hey, what a coincidence? Investigators say today that Putin ordered MH17 to be shot down.
Could it be any clumsier?
Not really
That came out a few days ago.
Apparently my local news’ wire feed is by carrier pigeon.
Not that I know of. Some have been disputed, obviously, and he’s been criticized for using anonymous sources. I guess those critics think real reporters just regurgitate whatever government officials are telling them to say.
isn’t that what “real reporters” do anymore?
Dude, the government is full of experts. We must listen to them.
Real reporters reference and quote multiple Twitter posts as a source without doing and sort of vetting or basic fact checking first.
That, and attack anybody who questions the current official line.
💔
A deeply touching and heartfelt tale, well told. Thank you for sharing it with us.
My sincere condolences.
Have you ever been back to VN, Fourscore?
I have not but Mrs F has been back. OTOH, she’s been everywhere, did the 7 continents over the years.
Such a beautiful place. Thanks again for sharing your love story with us.
I’m sorry Sir, the words…….
😔
Thanks Fourscore, beautiful story and tribute.
“The first sister was a widow whose husband had died in a re-education camp.”
I lingered on this line awhile before continuing onward.
I did too. I read it a couple of times trying to comprehend.
Middle class family – nothing they hated more.
What we try to tell people…eventually you’ll be against the wall.
Its really windy in SW Ohio today, and in this drafty house, a shit-ton of dust must’ve gotten kicked up in here my “office”
Thanks for sharing.
MIKES
This cannot go on any longer. I cannot abide the foolishness. The pretense of you being First must end and end now. There is only one way to settle this and keep my dignity intact for even engaging with you.
A First-Off. A final confrontation so that you know your place. I have already seen the result with my Third Eye. I know exactly how this will all play out, and why it must play out and when.
January 1st at 1:11:1 AM Firster time in the year 1-2023-1. One Firster and one seconder enter, and one Fister leaves.
What do you think you are going to do when Firstamania runs wild on you?
CWAC
Look at a calendar?
I have the ability to First through time. Someone who claims to be on my level should be able to do the same.
But fair enough. 2024 will do.
Hell, he couldn’t read the room.
Firster’s are the room.
Let me elaborate. Questioning the timing of The Three Eyed Firster formerly known as The First Of All Firsters and carrier of The First That Shall Change Everything is akin, in your Christian lingo, to challenging the timing of Moses revealing the commandments. Every First I offer the world, and all words on Firsting, are divined from The Great Firster himself.
Dude? Really?
You seriously picked this post, of all posts, to drop in more of this horseshit? You picked a moving and deeply touching post by one of our senior members, one describing a dear friendship that lasted across decades, to drop in more of this horseshit? Really? What the hell made you think this was appropriate?
+ 1 inappropriate first.
“What the hell made you think…”
I believe we have narrowed in on the problem.
Honestly, Drake’s post almost elicited this response – just because it jarred. However Bro’s bullshit is far more egregious. You really are better than this Bro.
No, he’s really not. The well dressed and well spoken person who shits on the public sidewalk is not a good, or better, person, for all the fancy dress, erudite remarks, or other public displays of what is a faux probity. Contemptible behavior is contemptible behavior.
Way dead-threading here, but why? Why is Drake’s schtick so much more acceptable? I think Bro is an ass for dropping that in this thread. I think Drake is every bit of an ass for his twisted “Vietnam you say, well how about this…”
And yet Drake’s gets a total pass (and some warm fuzzies from the usual suspects) and Bro gets the venom.
AGREED, MIKE S.
Now I have dust in my eyes, much like the Soldier upon leaving VN.
Strange, it just got really dusty in SW Michigan as well.
You have my deepest sympathy Fourscore. I saw you were dealing with terrible sadness recently but I didn’t know any details. Thank you so much for sharing this story here.
A beautiful tail Fourscore and well told.
It’s an honor to have you share it with us.
In the good news front, I accepted a position as an instructor at a trade school teaching HVAC/R.
This is a dream come true for me, I always wanted to teach but the credentials got in the way.
Thanks to all the glibs who believed in me, you are an inspiration.
Good news, Yusef! Congrats.
In a sad post I’ll take some good news. Congrats!
Lesson 1: Did you check the thermostat?
Congrats, Yusef! Very happy for you.
Yep, its 70 here, enjoying the day,
Cheers🍻
Congratulations!
Thank you all, I had to audition for the job, teach anything for 15 minutes, I chose disc golf, I nailed it
Congrats, Yusef. , I hope you get off for HH.
I are thinking about it, very doable
That’s funny! I’ll bet they expected HVAC. Well played!
I think they expected the Spanish Inquisition.
Fantastic!
Huzzah!
Fantastic Yusef!
Congrats Yusef!
Congratulations!
This is great!
Dust storm seems to be hovering over North America
https://youtu.be/9cgQJzJsM5U
Wonderful and touching story Fourscore. I’m amazed the deep connections that can be made in a short period of time if they are sincere and loving.
I think “the one that got away” is pretty common (obviously). Too bad it is often in hindsight – being young and dumb brings a lot of pain later.
I had a a few i’m glad got away. They were great at the time or so I thought. A great relationship can make you see a shitty one for what it was and not what you wanted it to be.
Sometimes we get lucky, TL.
I would have had a “one that got away” story, but luckily, she was too stubborn for that.
I have had one instance of where it was instantaneous. No reason, but a cosmic binding of two souls. They are special. I don’t regret losing touch with the person, but its there, in the back of the mind and in the heart of that connection and that person.
Perfectly stated.
This. For what it’s worth, multiverse theory posits that when we act, we create another universe or universes. So somewhere, What we wanted to happen did. That may not be a complete consolation, but it helps.
I don’t have a “one that got away.” I have a lot of unrequited crushes. I have two “Damn I’m glad that one was never a possibility.”
For some reason made me think of this one fling I had. Everything worked except when together.
I had the “Damn I wish that one was never a possibility.” I got out before it went too far and glad I did. Looking her up to see what happened after 20 years was an eye opener. Lots of carnage in her wake.
Condolences, Fourscore.
Got over my cold, but now my nose is in full allergy attack mode. Iph my typhing ish a little stuffffy, you’ll know why.
Fourscore, did the Lovely Lady know about the Pretty Girl?
Don’t answer if it’s too personal, I’m just curious.
No, since our spouses were not involved. It would have been difficult for them to comprehend.
And so you’ve been grieving alone. 🙁
I did have the support of our Glib family. It’s been exactly a month since I got the news. I had talked to the Pretty Girl on Sat, 3 days earlier, she was going to call me on Sunday.
I’m still waiting for the call that will never come. I’m grateful for the last 22 years of memories. I still need more time…
I’m closer to our Glib family than most of my blood. Sometimes that concerns me, but most of the time I’m just really grateful.
A significant portion of my extended family is batshit crazy. They’re the last people I want to hang out with.
d00d, your Glib family’s batshit crazy, too.
Maybe, but most of y’all wouldn’t turn me over to the Stasi.
Ah but the difference is we know we’re nuts!
There was a small brief period my wife just assumed I was talking with various versions of myself. Zoom helped clear that up
Depends on the number of silver pieces the Stasi is offering this week…
I had seen you commenting , but I did not know the whole story. My condolences. Thank you for composing this to let us know what happened.
She does now.
/ducking
Thank you for sharing Fourscore. Lovely story.
Wonderful story, 4×20, it’s certainly dusty here in central Iowa.
Very touching. Thank you for sharing.
No wonder you were too overwhelmed to tell us – until you were ready. A beautiful story, sad in many ways, but beautiful just the same.
This was something I stumbled upon:
–Joseph Campbell (from Reflections on the Art of Living)
I’m glad to read that you found her again.
Lovely yet saddening tale, 4×20. I saw you mentioned a loss a few weeks ago but didn’t want to bring it up. Thank you for sharing.
I’m so glad I didn’t miss this story, Fourscore. Hard to go back to work after reading it.
::e-hugs 4(20)::
“If a man loses anything and goes back and looks carefully for it, he will find it”
/Sitting Bull
Thanks to all of you, for your good wishes, for your understanding. Glibs are really the best. I felt that you all needed an explanation and as it turns out it’s probably a good catharsis for me.
I completely understand waiting for the call that will never come.
My very first virtual Japanese language exchange partner (likely) passed away from lung cancer. We talked about her, her husband and her two young children for over three years. We lost touch, but she reconnected with me via my wife’s Facebook account. I found out the reason that we lost touch was because she was diagnosed with lung cancer.
We started communicating again along with emails how she was doing well on chemo and had a shot a beating the odds. I was cautiously optimistic and after about six months never heard from her again. A part of me continues to believe she’s alive and too busy with her family to continue to do language exchange, but I’m still hoping I get an email…
This was an absolutely beautiful and bittersweet story Fourscore. I’m glad you shared it, and glad I read it.