My Brother, Part 2
Last Friday, I shared with you the sadstory of what my brother’s life is like now. And on Wednesday, I alluded to histime in the service. Here is the rest of that story.
My brother, Tom, served in the US Armyfrom 1965 to 1967. As you may have read in my post from earlier this week, wedrove to New York in June 1967 to visit him when he was stationed at WestPoint.
Somehow, he dodged the bullet which tookso many others to Vietnam. But before his cushy job as an MP at the militaryacademy, he was dispatched to the Dominican Republic, where he did dodgebullets.
Ever since I could remember, the onlymilitary conflict I heard about my entire childhood was the war in Vietnam. Butother places in the world were also embroiled in tension.
The Caribbean paradise of the DominicanRepublic was a mess for many years. From 1930 to 1961, it was ruled by aruthless dictator who used repression, torture, and murder to keep the massesin line. When this guy was assassinated in 1961, you would think things wouldsettle down, but not when his son and other relatives tried to keep control.After several coups and many deaths, the US deployed troops to the island inApril 1965 to keep the peace.
And my brother showed up early thefollowing year. His role was that of a driver; whether driving militarydignitaries around or picking up the payroll at the airport, it was the job ofTom and his partner to get it done.
As Tom has told the story, one time, theypicked up the payroll and were driving back to base with it. The payroll wasall in cash, in American dollars, so that the servicemen would have quickaccess to it. Also, I thought all military bases had their own airport, but inthis case, the airport where they picked up the payroll was several miles away.
As they drove out of the airport in theirJeep, local rebels started following them. They could only assume it wasbecause the rebels knew what they were carrying. When these guys with machineguns began shooting at them, their assumptions proved to be correct.
I don’t remember if Tom ever said who wasbehind the wheel, but one of them drove like a madman back to base while theother kept firing rounds at their pursuers.
They made it safely back to base, and theheavy chain-link gate slamming shut behind them was music to their ears.
Tom even got a commendation for it. Maybehe didn’t serve his country in Vietnam or fight to keep the communists at bay,but he still served the men and women on that base, all of them, just doingtheir jobs in the name of freedom for someone.
But what is heartbreaking is that we had to take away his truck to keep him from ever drivingagain.
