To all veterans, this is your day

Today seems like a good day to tell this story.

I spent all but three weeks of 1969 stationed in Vung Ro Bay, Vietnam. I was attached to the 18th Military Police Brigade, and our mission was to provide harbor security for the many boats and ships that would offload everything from jet fuel (that would then go to the nearby Tuy Hoa Air Force Base) to pallets of beer (PBR being our favorite).

On our off hours, when we weren’t being harassed by our first sergeant, we used to catch rides on the trucks headed to Tuy Hoa. Because while we lived in wooden hootches set just off a sandy beach, the living arrangements were a bit spartan.

Meanwhile, at the Air Force base, the airmen lived in air-conditioned billets, got served hot meals three times a day, could go and order ice cream and hamburgers and even sit in an indoor movie house. At Vung Ro, we were lucky to eat cafeteria food and, sometimes, see movies projected on a sheet draped over the side of a bunker.

Anyway, one morning after night patrol I hitchhiked to Tuy Hoa, checked my weapons at the base’s main gate, enjoyed a hot meal and then made my way to the movie house where Franco Zeffirelli’s “Romeo and Juliet” was playing.

If you’ve seen the film, you know how good it is. Olivia Hussey, then barely 16, plays Juliet to Leonard Whiting’s Romeo. John McEnery is Mercutio, while a young Michael York is Tybalt. And the whole thing was shot in scenic parts of Italy that I have since visited.

But here’s my point: When the movie ended, and the house lights came back up, there I was sitting amid a bunch of tough guys, most of whom were - as I was- dressed in our worn fatigues, our boots still muddy from the red Vietnam clay. Everyone stood, stretched, and got set to go back out into the real, dangerous world.

But I kept my seat. At least for a couple of minutes. I didn’t want the moment to end, didn’t want to leave the world that Zeffirelli had so artfully crafted, didn’t want to have to go back to a world of patrols, C-rations, mindless filling of sandbags, martinets who confused sadism with necessary military discipline and the spectre of danger that lay over everything.

But there was another reason, too, I didn’t want to get up.

I was crying. For Romeo and Juliet, sure, but for myself as well. And while crying wasn’t something you saw a lot of on military bases, even on patrol at 2 a.m., Zeffirelli’s movie had given me the opportunity, not to mention the impetus, to let down emotionally.

So I sat there and cried. And then, after a few minutes, I wiped my eyes, blew my nose, went back out into the sunshine, reclaimed my weapons and went back to work.

That’s the world of the soldier, the sailor, the airman and Marine.

To all of you, I say, this Veteran’s Day is for you. Enjoy it, wherever you are, however you can.

Below : “Romeo and Juliet,” circa 1968, on YouTube.