I was born during war on Christmas Day; eighteen days after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.
I have always been an honor bearer and seeker of the truth, but it hasn't been until recently when I realized how much of a burden, the truth is and the power the lie holds. I guess everyone who writes an autobiography intends on telling the truth-or the truth as they know it; or the truth as they want you to know it.
Some of the individuals I write about in this memoir will have their versions of the truth that counter mine or their reasons for the decision they've made.
It's been more than forty years since my foot left the battlefield, but you can ask any combat veteran who has "seen the elephant" (A Civil War term for close combat.) and he will tell you it was only yesterday in his mind. I've tried placing my combat experience in present terms, and I find it interesting for me when I talk to a current soldier about combat; it would be like a veteran from World War I talking to me about combat when I was going off to war in Vietnam.
It does not matter the war; honor, integrity, courage, camaraderie are all desired traits in a combat leader-but!-what happens when there is an honor call, and the reward for breaking that call seems to be higher to the individual than upholding one's honor?
I have served under dozens of officers, and they all demanded absolute truth and would not tolerate any subordinate lying to them-but, I have only served two superiors who would not tolerate a subordinate lying for them.
This is my memoir, and the price I paid to maintain my honor has been great, but one's honor is like virginity and then unlike virginity. Eventually, one wants to lose their virginity and one never wants to lose their honor-but with both cases, once given up it can never be regained.