After much backslapping and "call my wife, call my mom, give this to my girlfriend", the line truck takes us across to the terminal building. After the SP's searched our bags, cleaned us out of what was not supposed to come back, we just went outside and waited. Then it hit me....I looked across the runway and saw my squadron, launching them out....saw papa San selling his cokes....saw Lady and Grunt running around (this hit me hard as I loved those dogs and got them their shots and everything), smelled the musky air, JP4 and exhaust. Looked left and saw the houses at the end of the runway. I realized that there was so much I wanted to see and people I didn't get to say good bye to. I started to tear up...knowing I would never be back.

After about a half hour a 130 landed, we got on, strapped in (I got a window..such as it was) and the last thing I remember seeing is the yellow F we had painted on our shack (F-Troop). I put my head in my hands and stayed that way for an hour...I don’t know why, but I felt such sadness and sense of loss. This was the day I had waited for...why was I upset? What the hell was the matter with me? I managed to pull it together, and after an uneventful flight, we landed at Clark. We were told that we would stay overnight and catch the flight out the next day.....Before we left customs I was told, "Nope, wrong info. Plane leaves in 20 minutes"...So we just changed lines and got on a Pan Am 707. I started to get excited at the prospect of seeing family and friends again.

A looongg flight later we landed in Frisco. We got off the plane and started to wonder why people were staring at us....shit!! We still had on our fatigues and our bags were being transferred to the next flight. At this point the senior guy... forget his name, suggested we call the base and see if we can fix up some leave and head straight home. He called Base ops and finally got the sqdrn. on the horn....."Sure, give us your names and we'll do the paperwork...how many days you want?"  Shocked, but happy that it was this easy and somehow we had "gotten over", we went to the ticket counter and changed our tickets, mine to JFK and the others to their respective hometowns.

Now when we were together it wasn't so bad...(the fatigues), but when we said our good byes and I was alone, I became very self conscious....I found a seat in a corner and tried to hide as the stares got to me. I went from a TAC trained killer to a scared 18 year old again. I didn't have enough money to buy any new clothes, as it all went for the ticket change. The stews were real understanding to JFK..moved me into first class and fed me drinks on the arm. I started to feel human again.

Once we landed at JFK the stares started again, but I was half lit and didn't care. I figured I'd change when my duffel came out on the rack...Guess what....no duffel. It went to Raleigh, N.C. on my original flight. I was dumfounded and lost. Thank God, a Marine Sgt. loaded with ribbons saw me and came over..."Hey son, just got back?" I explained what happened and said, "Yes sir...I don’t know how I am going to get home, no money." He said, "Well son you cant stay here..tell you what. I'll front you a some new duds or a taxi ride home, pay me back when you get back to your base." I chose the cab ride.

We went out...hailed a cab and I told the driver where I lived and how much to take me home. The Sgt. handed over the fare and wished me well. "Be careful son, over there you know what the enemy looks like...here you don’t...Welcome home." On the way home I was shocked, and it started to sink in... Less than 30 hrs before, I was sleeping in my bunk in Ubon and now I was back in the land of the big BX!! Everything looked the same...so I thought. I pulled up in front of my parents house, thanked the driver and walked up to the front door.

"Shit!! I never called, they don’t expect me...I smell...I'm in my damn fatigues..shit!! What do I do...I can’t just ring the bell. Christ...what do I do?" Just then I heard my name yelled...It was my youngest sister riding her bike down the street. "RICHARD!! MOM, DAD, Richard's home!" She was screaming at the top of her lungs. My mom opened the door and almost fainted...my dad came up and went white. They pulled me into the house and sat me down..."Why didn't you call us? Why are you dressed like that? God you need a shower! Look how much weight you lost...you look like a scarecrow. You are sooo tan. How did you get home?"

I was overwhelmed and started to tear up again...I took out one of my last cigarettes and went to light it up. My dad said, "What?? You smoke..when the hell did you start that? No smoking in the house." I started to get up and go outside..."Where are you going, young man?" "Umm... to have a smoke dad." ..."No way, get upstairs and get out of those smelly clothes, take a shower and come back when you’re presentable"... I just stood there shocked." He doesn't see me, he cant know...what it was like, what we did...he's just sees the kid I was, not the man I was forced to become." I put the smoke in my pocket and started to walk upstairs to my room...I laid down on my old bed and just stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours...Yep, I was home.