Part 14… Face to Face

I would like to be able to vividly describe the moment I saw Boyd. I cannot remember. I remember snippets of my first visit. He was in a bed and he had a long leg cast with windows cut in it for the open wounds. I was content to just look at him. There was a sense of unreality. He had bought a radio in Japan. He had gotten paid in cash and someone stole the money. He was very thin, almost emaciated but oh, so very happy to be back. Our joy was immense.

Fitzsimmons hospital looked like any hospital from the outside but when I arrived at the medical floors it was nothing like a hospital I’d ever seen. The space was very large and filled with long rows of beds. There were no walls, just partitions and hanging curtains for privacy. Spaced sporadically along the large room were nurses’ stations. Everything was out in the open. The beds were filled with the wounded with all types of injuries. I recall a guy across from Boyd whose shin bone was exposed and they cleaned it with ether. Wow, it brought back my memory of having my tonsils out. It was loud with guys yelling at each other, throwing things, and trying to relieve the boredom. There was no television or anything for entertainment. To pass the time Boyd read a lot of books and we played a lot of cribbage.

There was no sense of sadness and illness. They had all survived and were alive and back in the states. They had not yet experienced the name-calling and disrespect of their fellow Americans who protested the war. They were insulated in an environment of camaraderie and safety after the horrors of war. Eventually, they would leave and have to reenter the “world” and experience the cruelty of others as well as flashbacks and nightmares. Some, like Boyd, would go home to families and jobs. They would be supported in their transition. Others would be lost to the streets unable to find their way.