Captain

 The chopper blades began to whirl.  Cool air was stirred all around me, and I held the hand of my 5 year old son.  The sound and vibrations overwhelmed our bodies as the Huey powered up.  We were both so excited to take our first helicopter ride.  And my eyes filled with tears. 

Vietnam:  The word shakes me to the core every time I see or hear it.

I've never been there, and yet it has had such a profound effect on my life.

My Father, Captain Ronald Martin, flew medevac helicopters in and out of battles in the Vietnam war.  What that means is that he had to load up the dead and dying and fly them to safety, while enemy troops were shooting at him despite the red cross.  

What it means is that he lived a nightmare.  The war has never left him, and so in turn it lives with those of us who love him.

Getting to sit inside the very aircraft that my Dad flew, I couldn't avoid envisioning him as the pilot, 47 years younger, checking the instruments and getting ready for take-off.  I envisioned, with sadness, the bodies he would have loaded onto the helicopter and the ones he would have had to come back for in a later trip.  And sitting there with the sound so loud that you can barely yell above the noise, I could finally understand why that sound still haunts my father in his dreams.  There is a lot of his life that I don't understand, but getting to sit in that chopper today opened my eyes just a little bit more.   

 I managed to swallow the thoughts.  William and I waved to my Dad who was standing a short way off proudly wearing his badges.... badges that would have gotten him ridiculed if he'd worn them on his return from the war.  We began to float straight up, and off we went for one exciting ride.  With doors wide open, there was just open air between us and the ground as we made sharp turns and dives that sent butterflies through our bellies.  

I'm not sure you ever recover from war, but there are moments of healing.  My Dad talks to every Veteran he comes across, and when he met Doug a number of years ago it brought one of those moments of healing.  As they got to talking, they realized that after Doug had been wounded in battle, it was my Dad who flew him out to safety.

My Dad and Doug

"Pa Pa is a REAL-life hero, William," I explained to my son, who had asked if super-heroes are real.  "He risked his life to rescue many hurt soldiers."  I am proud of my Dad... a true hero.