Someone was telling me about flying helicopters in Nam and I, as usual, thought of something funny.
I thought I might say, “HELICOPTERS? Yea, you spoiled brats had HELICOPTERS in Nam. But in Africa, we had no damn helicopters! One unit had an old defunct ‘copter we used to call ‘Wishful thinking with a propeller on top.'”
In Africa you went in on foot or by parachute. They offered me parachute training and I said, “You ain’t seen hand-to-hand (combat) until you try to get me out of a plane at five thousand feet!”
If I had said what spoiled brats they were in Nam to have helicopters, I could have been one of the paper-hat brigade, one of the group that calls itself The Greatest Generation, the one that talks about its Sacrifices, and how everybody needs to show them Gratitude, Gratitude, Gratitude and how about some Gratitude for a change?
Gratitude is the main lyric of The Song of the Greatest Generation. It gets them money. But the refrain is how easy everybody else has it. “We were raised in the great Depression, we fought The Great Big War,” they sing, tears in their eyes.
I have all the money I want, but I sure would enjoy doing some of that “You have it easy!” bit. It sounds like a lot of fun.
The paper hat crowd wears paper army hats. What kind of hat would an ex-spook wear? He could have on a paper Casper-the-Ghost hat. The trouble is that that looks just like a Ku Klux Klan hood.
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