Most of us Viet people who grew up in Viet Nam before 1975 are familiar with these sandbags. Contrary to what most my American born friends think, sandbags, in my childhood memory, were lots of fun, because it meant … skipping school.
My Dad was an Airforce officer, and after my Mom died, he relocated us to live inside the officer’s airbase compound; easier for him to supervise us because during the war, sometimes, we had a 24 hour curfew, or Martial Law, meaning no school, and no civilians permitted to leave their homes.
So, when my siblings and me heard incoming rockets, we all hid in the basement filled with sandbags, flashlights, and finger food having shared ghost stories to hear each other laugh and scream.
Today, seeing these sandbags, brought back childhood memories and appreciation for all the soldiers, and saddened for those that had to die so we could live. It’s Veterans Day. THANK YOU, SOLDIERS. We appreciate you.
I am a child of war. I chose to remember the happy stories, not sadness. Same world. Different memories. Your choice.