A Soldier's Daughter

I really have no idea what it means to be a soldier's daughter. I do not know what it means to say goodbye to my daddy as a little girl and know he is far away in a foreign country where people wish for him to be dead. I do not know what it is like to have a letter or email from my daddy on my birthday instead of a hug. I do not know what it is like to go to bed at night and pray for my daddy's safety because while I am sleeping he is fighting a war. I do not know what it feels like to wonder every day if my daddy will come home. I ache for all of those little girls who do know how this feels.

At one time, years before my sister or I were born, our daddy was a soldier. He was drafted into the United States Army when the United States was in need of good men to support the cause in Vietnam. It was never his intention to be a soldier, yet he now takes such pride in having been a part of such an important part of history. While in Vietnam, he was a member of the First Calvary division. He was a door gunner for a UH1B helicopter. He refers to those helicopters as "Huey's".

I love to listen to his stories and he is quite a story teller. He didn't really speak of Vietnam when I was a little girl, I guess the memories were still too vivid for him to relive. He tells of being on a hillside covered in lush greenery one night and waking the next morning to a totally barren hillside as planes had covered the area in Agent Orange during the night to expose the enemy's hiding places. His stories include hiding in fox holes for hours on end and falling in love with the children whose fathers were after his life. I do not have the picture but somewhere there is a picture of him holding a little girl and he would tell me how much he wished he could have brought her home with him. As a child, that made me jealous. As an adult, it makes me wonder what happened to her. Hearing daddy's stories when I was taking history classes made them come alive to me. I have always been so proud to know he fought to defend his country. I am so thankful God protected him and brought him home.

We have been collecting information and pictures for a Veteran's Day special at church for November. Daddy brought a few pictures to me for us to use. Those pictures prompted this post. I love that I have them scanned but I also want to make sure I record what daddy had written on each one.

On the back of this picture he had written...

"my last stay in the field June, 1967"

 and he had underlined the word last two times
I can't imagine the relief to know he was finally close to the end and almost on his way home.

On this picture...

"April, 1967 This is outside the billits where I live now."

On this picture...

"1966 This is not my regular ship. I was just filling in here."

When we have watched movies about Vietnam and a helicopter would be shown, daddy would always point out the door gunner and tell me that is what he used to do. It has always scared me and often made me wonder how he survived such a war...only the Lord brought him home.

On this picture...

"me + A-2"

Not sure what that means...I will have to remember to ask him.

On the front of this picture...
"The Boys"
29 Jan 67
On the back of this picture...

"Ship is armed with 12 air P ground rockets. 4 mini (word I can't read) of 50 caliber and 2 M-60 machine guns, and of course, ME! (ME is underlined) We have the M-60's off for cleaning."

On this picture...

"August 1966 1st Cav. Div. Viet Nam"

I know someday I will regret not sitting and writing down all of his stories. I need to take the time to do that now while I have him here to relive those memories. They are important to him and because of that, they are important to me. While I may not know the emotions of being a soldier's daughter, in some ways, I am a soldier's daughter and I am very proud of my daddy for serving his country and being a Veteran. I still enjoy the freedoms today that he and others like him in the past and present risk their lives to provide. What a blessing to be his daughter.