History Lesson

Hope tripped while walking to the bathroom Sunday while we were camping. Her knees were pretty skinned up and one was bleeding quite a bit. She isn't the bravest of souls and was milking her injury for all it was worth. We were in the motorhome putting a bandaid on her knee, and instead of really sympathizing with her, I said, "Ya know, Uncle Ron got shot with a gun. Maybe you should ask him if that hurt worse than scraping your knee."

Ron and Cindy had come for the afternoon, hence my comment about him getting shot. As we got out of the motorhome, I asked her if she wanted to ask him about it. She said she wanted to know, but wanted me to ask. So when we got over to their campsite, I said, "Uncle Ron, Hope wants you to tell her about getting shot." Perhaps I should've been more clear: she wanted to know if it hurt. But with Ron, you never get one-word answers.

He told her all about it, more than I've ever heard:
-who all was in the boat
-he was supposed to be delivering the boat and then leaving the country for a week of R&R- obviously that didn't happen
-he was driving the boat
-he initially didn't realize he'd been more than grazed
-he was hurt worse than anyone else in the boat
-it took almost three hours after he was shot before he was even evacuated
-it took a couple more hours to get to the hospital
-he nearly bled to death before he got into surgery
-it was almost a week before anyone here knew

He never did really answer her 'did it hurt' question. It was typical Ron story-telling, and this morning Hope asked me if he really got shot; she didn't even know whether or not to believe him. But I hope, years from now, when she learns about VietNam in history class, she'll remember that hour, and that what he told her will make the war a little more real and a little more personal. I wish history classes could be taught by people who helped make the history.