Story originally printed in the Westby Times or online at www.westbytimes.com
Published - Friday, May 30, 2008
Across the Fence: Friendships Forged In Fire
Time passes, but some friendships never die; especially those that were forged in fire. I've used the phrase "Band of Brothers" before. It's the title of Stephen Ambrose's book about World War II veterans. I was reminded this past weekend that there's a lot of truth to those words.
It was Syttende Mai weekend and the celebration in Westby was in full swing. I was in the Heritage Tent, displaying and demonstrating Norwegian folk art woodcarving. I was standing at my carving bench, working on a carving, when I realized someone had stopped and was watching me carve. I looked up to see if I could answer any questions, when I saw this mountain of a man looking down at me and smiling. "Hi Doc," he said.
It had been 41 years since I'd seen him, but I knew him immediately. "Don Hanson," I said! You'd think I could have come up with a better greeting for an old friend, but I was "a little surprised" to see him standing there.
We shook hands across the carving bench. Not a wimpy "nice to meet you" handshake, but a "My God, it's great to see you again" kind of handshake.
Don and I go back a long way. He was from Osseo and I was from Westby, but we both went through the Minneapolis Induction Station where we received our physicals and were sworn into the Army together. We spent the next two years together. We were in the same basic training company, went to Vietnam, and were in the same unit there. We spent time on operations and ambush patrols together. We shared all those experiences, and then, like so many Vietnam veterans, we went our separate ways after we returned home, and were never in contact again.
It took 37 years before Harlan Springborn, Larry Skolos, and I got reunited. We all live in Vernon County. Then Elmer Wischmeier in Missouri and Kenneth Lee in California came back into our lives; and now after 41 years, Don Hanson, who lives in DePere. We were all in basic training and Vietnam together. Those friendships were forged in fire and they're still strong after all this time.
But why did it take us so long to get back together? We think it was the nature of the Vietnam War. It was not very popular to be a Vietnam veteran. Most of us retreated into the closet and didn't let anyone know we'd been there. We went on with our lives and in the process, left all our old army buddies behind. Maybe some of the shared memories were a little painful too, and it was just easier to go our separate ways. But there's a loneliness in carrying those memories all by yourself. There's a bond among all veterans, but there's a special brotherhood among those who shared the same experiences with you. It's hard to even describe.
On Saturday, Don and I began visiting together as if only a day had passed, not forty-one years. Both of us being Norwegian, we had some coffee and rømmegrøt together, and talked about the times we'd shared so many years ago. Most of our memories are good. The years have helped to smooth the sharp edges. We went on six-man ambush patrols together. During the day we patrolled the countryside, looking for the enemy and trying to avoid detection by them. One day we came across a cornfield. Another time we found a small tobacco field. We were Wisconsin farm boys and were surprised to see those crops in the Central Highlands of Vietnam. I took a photo of Don examining the corn. I said he was probably checking the moisture content.
We remembered the night "Puff the Magic Dragon" saved us from being overrun. Puff was a converted AC-47 equipped with three Gatling guns that dropped flares and then poured out 6,000 rounds per minute. It was a sight to behold. Whenever I hear the song "Puff the Magic Dragon," sung by Peter, Paul, and Mary, I think of that night.
We also remembered some of our friends who weren't as lucky as we were. I have a photo of Don, myself, and four other friends about to leave on an ambush patrol together. The man kneeling in front of us is no longer alive.
We talked about our shared experiences and it felt good knowing we had experienced them together. I'm reminded of the words of Colonel Potter in the final episode of M*A*S*H. "It would be hard to call what we went through fun, but I'm glad we went through it together."
A lot of us were from rural backgrounds. Most of the guys in our unit were Midwest farm boys. We remembered Sgt. Hudson telling us after basic, he'd requested all the farm boys he could get, because they knew how to work, were already in good shape, and knew how to fire a gun.
Don had brought along my "Across the Fence" book that our friend, Elmer, another farm boy, had sent him. Don could relate to the things I write about. That's how he found out I was living in Westby. I told him he'd be in the next book!
It was great for a couple old Wisconsin farm boys with Norwegian blood, whose friendship was forged in fire, to be reunited after all these years. As Don said, "It doesn't get any better."
All stories copyright 2006 Westby Times and other attributed sources.