This is a late addition to the storyline, but here you go! The Prologue.
Life as we knew it, was about to change.
It was 1954, and the war had just begun. Our father, Daniel Ryley had been transferred from the Reserves to Active Duty.
The minute he got the telegram, my brother Jack and I knew he had to go. When we hugged our father for the last time, we held on as long as we could.
Two years passed without hearing anything about Dad, but on June 19th 1956, two military officers, wearing dark blue uniforms, lined with red, marched up to our door. I knew what was coming.
They knocked light, but strict. My mother answered the door with a tissue box in her left hand, just in case.
"Are you Mrs. Ryley?" said one of the officers, with a Texan accent.
"Yes, I am. What do you need?" she replied, sniffing.
"We are sorry to inform you of this most unpleasant news." said the other officer, who sounded British, "Ma'am, your husband passed away in Central Vietnam on Saturday morning."
My mother burst out into tears. Her face was pale and she looked like she was holding her breath.
"How?" I asked, as I did not know any better.
"Um, is it OK if I say it Mrs. Ryley?" said the Texan.
"I guess... Just don't describe how he died. Don't describe the wounds." she said, still crying.
"Well, he and his squadron was ambushed in Vinh, Vietnam," he replied, "and he was one of my closest squadmates."
"You were his squadmate?!" I asked him.
"Why yes, little feller." he said with a slight smile on his face.
After that, the officers left. My mother was in shock. She just stood in the same spot for an hour, crying with her tissue box.
I wanted those jerks who killed my father to die!
I wanted to join the war and get my revenge. As soon as Mother told Jack, he felt the same.
We are going to get back at them! We are going to either live heroes or die legends!
Our Assignment
About 8 years later, when we were 18, my brother and I applied for the US Army Active Duty.
They accepted my application and I took the truck to Basic Training. There were many other guys who looked tough and had clean cut hair, while I was kind of wimpy and my hair was shaggy and down below my ears.
As soon as I got there, they shoved me into a barber and gave me a haircut. Wow, these guys are serious.
After three weeks of Drill Sergeants, training, and punks who goofed off too much, I was sent to Southern Vietnam/Laos.
My brother was sent to the North. I have not seen him since.
I fought my way through Vietnam, earning my rank as Sergeant and getting bumped up to the Rangers.
Now go ahead and read the novel!
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