I remember when the sound of distant thunder and lightning was when the surrounding counties were getting our needed rainfall and not trying to figure out if it was their artillery or ours.

I remember when the sight of a hilltop, a woodline, or an open field was something beautiful to admire and not something to expect ambush and death to come from.

I remember when the oncoming of darkness was the time to settle down and feel at peace and not the time to dig in and expect the worst.

I remember when hunting season came around and you prepared for your trophy and not search and destroy missions that meant misery for many days.

I remember when going camping with your family or friends was a time to be together and enjoy each other and not a time to be in the open and vulnerable to our enemy.

I remember when the holidays and sounds of celebrating were a joyous occasion and not the dread of your enemy's offensive.

I remember when the sounds of overhead aircraft were looked up to in awe and envy of the pilots and not the dreaded sounds of airborne assaults, napalm runs or medevacs coming to pick up your wounded and KIA.

I remember when making friends was the thing you could never get enough of and not the dread of losing someone you had really been close to.

I remember when loud noises was something that scared you and made you laugh at yourself and not something associated with death.

I remember when going fishing and being out on the water was something you enjoyed and looked forward to and not the memories of riverboat patrols and crossing flooded rice paddies.

I remember when being alone was a time to enjoy your hobbies or do your own thing and not a time to surround yourself with your weapons and be suspicious of every little noise.

I remember when happiness was being with your family or friends and doing things that you enjoyed and not one of your superiors telling you that you were getting hot chow, a shower, R&R or the big one ... going home.