Dressed in denim jackets and bell bottom jeans with colorful patches sewn over holes that never existed, we tried to be normal 1970’s youth. We listened to Neil Young, Cat Stevens, Eagles, America and Pink Floyd. Our attempt to be non-conformists only managed to create more conformity. And short military haircuts can’t be disguised in a world where the length of your hair is a status symbol. No matter how hard we pretended to be friends, it was still just a stranger that passed the hash pipe back across the table. We’d take a hit and dream we were home.
Tag: Army
On The Train…
written while stationed in Germany – 1976
We ride the train at night. Store front signs flash neon onto our faces through the window. Red, green, blue in words we don’t know. Just four foreigners crowded in with a hundred faces. They speak in a language we can only catch a few pieces of. We get stern looks from disgusted fellow travelers each time we speak. So we travel in silence. But I know what they are thinking. They don’t need to say it. I can see it in their anger. “You’d think if they are going to be stationed here, they’d learn to speak our language.”
Basic Training
The humidity was doing a good job of outpacing the temperature. Until around 10 AM when the thermometer pushed over 100. That’s when 176 frightened kids and a few old hippies staggered out of the crowded cattle trucks.
“Alright maggots, RUN,” voices screamed in unison from under wide brimmed Smokey Bear hats. So we ran, duffle bags slung over shoulders, for hours before finally coming to attention under the blistering Missouri sun. All the while the bears circled, sniffing the air and grunting.
“Don’t show them any fear,” one of the old hippies told me. “They prey on the weak.”
Love, Honor and Cherish
On our wedding day, the summer was beginning to fade away but autumn had not taken over the world. The sky opened and dropped a few tears of happiness onto the church rooftop while we said our vows. Although the temperature was mild, our passion still scorched our skin like a burning July sun with every touch. My Army uniformed paled against the brilliance of your winter white wedding dress. You smelled like wild flowers in the spring. We laughed when we promised all our worldly possessions to each other. We did not understand yet how rich we truly were.
Jerry Brotherton 