My uncle Lee Weeks was more than just an uncle. He was my friend. We talked often and kidded around a lot. At least, until he was drafted into the U.S. Army. He was in the 101st Airborne Division and spent four tours in the Vietnam War, which he would write about ... a little, and mail the letters to me. Of course, I was a teenager then. But when he came back the last time, Agent Orange had taken its toll on him and he suffered every time it rained. But he talked a lot more about what he had seen and been through when we were face to face.
My uncle Lee Weeks was more than just an uncle. He was my friend.
We talked often and kidded around a lot. At least, until he was drafted into the U.S. Army.
He was in the 101st Airborne Division and spent four tours in the Vietnam War, which he would write about ... a little, and mail the letters to me. Of course, I was a teenager then. But when he came back the last time, Agent Orange had taken its toll on him and he suffered every time it rained. But he talked a lot more about what he had seen and been through when we were face to face. He talked and I listened.
Then, in 1973, I received a draft notice for Vietnam and he said that bothered him more than his pain. But, of course, when I reported in June, they sent me home saying the war was over.
My uncle was happy, but I was sad. All those talks had made me feel that I needed to do MY part ... to be like him. Wounded in combat many times, then the Agent Orange. But he never regretted his decision.
So, later I did join the U.S. Air Force, and I too went to war.
So, I remember my uncle every day (he is gone now); my only regret is that he was not here for me to write or talk to about MY experiences when I came home. I am happy I did my part. I just wish he had been here to see it.
- Your Words