24 hours- A Prisoner of War 1972
We were finishing up 1344 hours of Warrior training under the Famed watch of MG Moore—a soldier's soldier- when all Hell broke loose. We had no idea of what was to happen. We were grunts—the lowest of the low, the spear of the javelin. This is my story. Perhaps you can understand why your grandfather failed to share his stories with you. All is true, to the best of my recall. It started like a typical day on the front lines. We were sleep deprived and shaken by a lack of food and a grueling schedule that even a prince would not be able to keep up with. I was being gassed before I could put my mask on properly, despite having received expert training just weeks prior. The shock and awe of War is not to be underestimated, regardless of why you are there. Even pointing loaded weapons on full auto at college-aged students in the railway yard later could not compare. After the snott and teras cleared away, I was shocked by an automatic weapon going off so close to my right ear. I would...